Epilogue…
The Face of the Dark Side...
"Reach out," Yoda called to the group of younglings. Several of them moved their lightsabers in haphazard ways, trying desperately to keep up with the movement of the hover droids. "Sense the Force around you."
A droid dashed in front of Liam, one of the older but less gifted of the children. He tilted his head as if listening to the hum of the droid's movement, and then moved his lightsaber to center on where he clearly expected the floating machine to be. It was not. A gentle burst of energy struck the boy on his hand. Impressively, he did not squirm in response, despite that being the fourth time he had been hit during the session.
Yoda shook his head. "Use your feelings, you must."
The boy seemed to recognize right away that Yoda's attention was focused on him, because he quickly nodded in acknowledgement and did a better job of pretending he was not listening to the device's movements with his ears.
Yoda smiled inwardly. Every padawan class had at least one youngling who did his level best to circumvent the blast shields that were lowered over the face in order to obscure the eyes and compel the student to rely on the Force. Yoda chuckled as he remembered how a young Qui-Gon Jinn had snuck into the crèche training area the night before to drill a hole in his helmet's solid face plate for him to see through. The boy's embarrassment at having been caught in the act was enough to spur him to reach his potential.
Yoda watched the children continue to struggle with the exercise, smiling. On the edges of his consciousnesses, he sensed the approach of the young Jedi Master. From the corner of his eye, a flash of brown Jedi robes confirmed Obi-Wan's presence. He tapped his gimer stick gently on the marble floor to get the children's attention.
"Younglings! Younglings!" he announced. "A visitor, we have."
The class quickly lifted their face plates and looked up at Obi-Wan respectfully as they deactivated their lightsabers. "Hello, Master Obi-Wan," they said in unison.
Obi-Wan smiled. "Hello," he responded, nodding briefly. He quickly turned to Yoda. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Master."
Yoda could sense the puzzlement and turmoil that swirled about Obi-Wan, though the young Jedi Master was doing an excellent job of keeping it well hidden. "What help can I be, Obi-Wan, hmmm?"
"I'm looking for a planet described to me by an old friend. I trust him, but the systems don't show in the archive maps."
Glancing over at the padawans, Yoda raised his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth. "Mmmm….lost a planet, Master Obi-Wan has." His smile widened as the younglings began to giggle. "How embarrassing…how embarrassing." The giggles turned to laughter, and Yoda grinned in earnest when he saw even Obi-Wan relax into a genuine smile.
Glancing about the room, Yoda settled his gaze on Liam, who was doing his best to not be seen. "Liam, the shades," Yoda ordered, smiling as the boy's face flushed bright red. He turned to the rest of the class. "Gather around the map reader. Clear your minds…and find Obi-Wan's wayward planet, we will."
The room darkened, and a small sphere that sat on a thin, cylindrical console came to life. Instantly the space was filled with a hologram of the entire galaxy. Bright orbs of various sizes and colors representing stars, systems, and planets lit the chamber.
Immediately Obi-Wan walked through the hologram and went straight to a darkened area in the Outer Rim, just south of the Rishi Maze. "It ought to be…" he pointed at empty space, "…here. But it isn't. Gravity is pulling all the stars in the area towards this spot."
Yoda pursed his lips, contemplating the implications of the only likely answer he could come up with. He glanced at the students, wondering whether any of them would come to the same conclusion he had.
"Hmm….gravity's silhouette remains…but the stars and all its planets, disappeared they have. How can this be?" Yoda looked about the room, observing the children. Some squirmed and avoided his gaze. Others seemed to be deep in concentration. "A thought?" he prodded. The lingering silence in the room grew. "Anyone?"
"Master?" Yoda turned and caught Liam's uncertain stare. He could sense that the boy dreaded failing this impromptu test as he had been failing at the exercise with the training droid. Yoda nodded his head in acknowledgement, which seemed to be enough to prompt the child to proffer his thought. Liam lifted his chin, and spoke with a certainty that he did not normally display. "Because someone erased it from the archive memory."
In an instant, the boy seemed remarkably familiar. The image of a small migru boy on a planet he no longer knew came as a flood to Yoda's mind. For a long moment Yoda focused on the vision of the youngling who had shone so brightly in the Force. He glanced at Liam, who was desperately trying to hide his eagerness for approval from his Master.
Yoda chuckled.
"Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is." Yoda laughed quietly again before directing his gaze to Obi-Wan. "The padawan is right!" He glanced at the boy, who beamed proudly. "Go to the center of gravity's pull, and find your planet, you will."
Obi-Wan nodded. Yoda turned to put some distance between himself and the children. When Obi-Wan pulled the map reader orb to his hand, Liam proudly opened the shades to let light back into the room without prompting. Yoda made a note to himself to assure the boy that he was doing well.
When they were out of earshot of the younglings, Yoda redirected his attention to Obi-Wan. "Hmmm….the data must have been erased."
Obi-Wan's look of confusion was mirrored in the Force. "But Master Yoda, who could empty information from the archives? That's impossible, isn't it?"
No…not impossible, Yoda thought as the memory of his own lost planet pounded against his ribs. Yaddle had managed to do it with very little trouble. Erasing all mention of a planet was no small thing. The circumstances under which Yoda had chosen to do so had cost him dearly….
"Mmm….dangerous and disturbing, this puzzle is," Yoda replied. "Only a Jedi could have erased those files. But who and why? Harder to answer." Yoda looked up at Obi-Wan. "Meditate on this, I will."
The cloth coverings on the hassock were plush beneath Yoda's crossed legs. The waning sunlight filtering through the closed shades diffused into the artificial illumination of the bright room. Immense care had been taken in the design of the quiet chamber to create a soothing place for the greatest of the Jedi Masters to meditate in peace. From the curvature of the walls to the muted colors of marble floors to the positioning of the hassocks in the chamber, everything was crafted to set anyone in the room completely at rest.
Yoda noticed none of it.
For more than eight hundred years he had visited chambers much like this one to swim in the powerful currents of the Force. In those rooms throughout the centuries he had learned to quiet his mind and to listen to the whisperings that only quiet meditation could bring. He had not always understood. There were times when he would have to meditate for days just to begin to come to any new understanding. But it had always been rejuvenating—and effortless. Meditation had only required quiet surrender of his will to the Force.
Until now.
For almost two decades, the Force had been silent. Shrouded in a cold blanket of darkness that only he among the Jedi recognized, the will of the Force had become a mystery that was almost impossible to solve. Where centuries before, the Council could come to agreement without uttering a single word, the Jedi Order was now full of conflict and uncertainty. Yoda could pierce the dark clouds, but it was not without intense effort. Meditation no longer sustained him.
Diving deeper into the Force, Yoda focused his will on the blackness that obscured the path he wanted to follow. The currents of the Force flowed from the present to the future and into the past. Only around the immediate present was the murkiness absent. Plummeting into the past, Yoda quickly found the tendril connecting the Jedi Archives to the erased data. Concentrating on that wispy strand, he plunged after it.
The cold void moved in response to try and block his progress, but Yoda waved it away. There was something significant about the vibration in this thread. It was strong. It belonged to a Jedi. It felt familiar...
The Force exploded.
Anakin! Anakin! Noooo!
Spinning helplessly, Yoda lost his grip on the filament he had been following. He drew a deep breath and tried to regain his bearings. He looked around the landscape of the Force and gasped. The normally blissful waters of the Force were twisting and roiling as if caught in a hurricane. Another fierce detonation pounded against Yoda's mental shields.
And then he knew.
Then he saw.
His heart crashed hard against his breastbone.
The azure blade moved with swift vengeance.
Rage poured forth from Anakin Skywalker and emptied out into the Tatooine desert night. Masked marauders fell. And the rage grew. A crimson tempest billowed about the padawan as he hacked and slashed through the throng of terrified villagers. Their fear fed his fury. Their terror made him strong.
Yoda's chest felt as if it would shatter as his heart pounded in tune with the boy's…
His breath grew ragged…
His throat closed…
His chest tightened…
Deep within the abyss of rage, something far more powerful bellowed from the boy—grief. Palpable anguish howled into the Force—sorrow so intense that Yoda could no longer distinguish the boy's heartache from his own.
They killed my mother!
They killed Migruna!
They're animals! I'll slaughter them like animals!
A soothing presence alighted beside him. How had it arrived on Tatooine? No…not Tatooine….
Yoda opened his eyes. He turned his head slowly and tried to focus on the figure to his right.
Mace Windu sat across from him, his normally implacable face wrought with concern. "What is it?" he asked.
Unshed tears stung his eyes as Yoda searched for the words. "Pain…suffering. Death, I feel." Gasping, he tightened his fists. "Something terrible has happened. Young Skywalker is in pain….terrible pain."
Mace leaned forward. "Shall we go to him?"
The rage receded….
Yoda stared at his hands.
The storm passed, leaving the shattered husk of Anakin Skywalker on a distant planet alone with his thoughts.
Yoda had been alone.
He turned away and wiped a stray tear that had chosen that moment to fall from his face. He stared at the far wall. The Jedi would never understand the boy's rage. They would never appreciate his loss. They would never comprehend his grief.
His connection to the boy began to fade as the Light descended on Anakin and wrapped around him like a mother nurturing a child with a wounded knee.
The Light would save him.
Time.
Anakin Skywalker needed time.
To heal….
"Yoda?"
Yoda glanced over his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
The head of the Jedi Order stared unseeingly at the blinds. No. But they—both he and the young Skywalker–would be all right. "Speak to Skywalker, I will, when the time is right." His voice sounded stronger than he felt. "When ready he is, help him, I will."
The ground reverberated beneath his feet as yet another explosion rocked the battlefield. The putrid smell of charred flesh and burnt ozone assaulted his nose as dust and wind crashed against his face. Yoda raised his arm to shield his eyes.
Red packets of particle energy shattered the mechanized monstrosities that fired upon the manufactured warriors led by Jedi Masters once committed to peace. How had this happened? How had the Order become so embroiled in so much senseless destruction and loss of life?
Cold.
A black cloud in the Force rose from a distant hangar and blanketed the battlefield.
Two single points of light descended into the dark.
"Sir! The droid army is in full retreat!" a clone Commander reported sharply.
Yoda turned to him. "Well done, Commander. Bring me a ship."
His knee ached as he struggled into the hangar bay. Immediately his gaze settled on the two fallen Jedi—Master and padawan—in the far corner of the alcove. Both were severely wounded. Yoda stared at his former padawan and his breath caught in his throat.
The crimson cold of the Sith shone from his former student like a beacon. Dooku was no more. Whoever it was that stood at the console, it was not the boy Yoda once knew.
Dooku turned. "Master Yoda," he said appraisingly.
"Count Dooku," Yoda replied, resting his hands atop his gimer stick.
"You have interfered with our affairs for the last time."
Dooku raised his hand, ripping a large transformer from the wall with the Force, and sent it hurtling towards the closest thing he ever had to a father.
The stick fell to the ground as Yoda called on the Light, tossing the makeshift missile harmlessly to the side.
Apparently undeterred, Dooku tore another transformer free and heaved it across the room. Again, Yoda caught it and tossed it aside.
Dooku's eyes widened with obvious frustration, and he directed his attention to the ceiling above Yoda's head. The rock face rumbled under the assault and came asunder. Large shards of stone tumbled from above.
Raising his hands above his head, Yoda created a cushion with the Force, catching the debris and holding it steady before tossing it away.
He turned to the Sith, breathing heavily. "Powerful, you have become Dooku. The dark side, I sense in you."
The corner of Dooku's upper lip lifted in a sneer. "I have become more powerful than any Jedi." He raised his hand, pointing it at Yoda. "Even you."
Lightning poured from Dooku's fingertips, but Yoda was ready. Catching the attack in his open palm, Yoda threw it against a wall.
Clearly surprised, Dooku's rage exploded from his hands with greater intensity. Yoda grasped the assault and channeled the energy through himself.
A single heartbeat.
"Much to learn, you still have."
Dooku's inscrutable mask returned. "It is obvious that this contest cannot be decided by our knowledge of the Force…" The sound of the eruption of Dooku's fiery blade echoed in the chamber. "...but by our skills with a lightsaber." He raised the energized weapon to his face in the classic Makashi salute.
Yoda's lightsaber found his hand with a flick of the Force. A twitch of his thumb, and his emerald blade's song joined his opponent's.
In a single leap, they were on each other. Dooku's power in the Force had grown, and so had his adeptness with the blade. Yoda flipped high in the air, deflecting blow after blow.
As their blades locked, Yoda took measure of the man before him. Dooku was indeed powerful, but he would not prevail. Yoda made the message clear in a single hard push against the Sith's blade.
As more strikes swirled toward him, Yoda leaped ahead of every attack. A lesser Jedi would easily have fallen to Dooku's skill.
Yoda bounced off the side of Dooku's ship a fraction of a second before Dooku's blade struck. He used the wall he landed on to hurl himself at the Sith Lord. Their blades locked.
"Fought well you have," Yoda breathed, "my old padawan."
Dooku's eyes widened. "This is just the beginning!" Pulling one of his hands from the hilt of his weapon, he directed his attention to a large metal power conduit. The bottom of the tower crumpled under Dooku's assault in the Force and began to tip toward the prostrate Jedi.
His blade forgotten, Yoda centered himself in the Force and extended the tendrils of power to grasp the massive durasteel cylinder. In his peripheral awareness, he sensed Dooku fleeing. As he tossed the improvised weapon aside, Yoda sighed.
Dooku's ship was already getting underway. The sound of useless blaster fire from outside the hangar filled the air. A glance at his discarded gimer stick brought it flying to his hand. He directed his attention to the wounded Jedi.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, as always, glowed with the Light from within despite his obvious pain. Already he was centering himself and helping his padawan to his feet.
Anakin Skywalker seemed to focus on the searing agony, feeding on it instinctively. Yoda hobbled across the floor, determined to talk with the boy and root out the source of his palpable connection with the dark side.
Abruptly the fiery tornado that swirled around the padawan vanished, replaced by cool, harmonious, azure light. Yoda squinted in confusion.
A moment later, Padmé Amidala dashed by the Jedi Master and wrapped her arms around the wounded young man.
Realization dawned.
He caught Obi-Wan's concerned gaze as the boy's Master clearly had come to the same conclusion Yoda had—Anakin Skywalker was in love with the Senator from Naboo. But as Yoda quietly shook his head to silence Obi-Wan's intent to interrupt the embrace, he knew that the Jedi Master did not truly understand.
Skywalker needed attachments.
When his mother died, Padmé Amidala had filled the void.
She was Skywalker's anchor.
She was his Migruna.
Nothing must ever happen to disrupt that connection.
