Cold be hand and heart and bone,

And cold be sleep under stone:

Never more to wake on stony bed,

Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.

In the black wind the stars shall die,

And still on gold here let them lie,

Till the dark lord lifts his hand

Over dead sea and withered land.

—J. R. R. Tolkien

Chapter Seven

The stars around Bespin shone peacefully in the inky blackness of space, undisturbed by the war raging in the galaxy around them. They simply existed, shining their light to whoever decided to gaze away from their terrestrial bond s and to the sky. It was stars just like these that had prompted the first creatures to relinquish the known to venture into the great unknown. The stars had awoken something deep within their souls, a stirring that could not be satisfied.

These stars had seen everything. The rise and fall of kingdoms, of galaxies, of empires once so strong they were thought they could never end. Individual lives were like a flash, a quickly fading flower, the tiniest speck of ink painted on a tapestry galaxies wide.

Yet one life shone almost as brightly as these stars, a shining, striating, supernova of power. Ordinary eyes could not see this light—only the few blessed by the light itself. But just like a supernova often rifts time and space, turning something beautiful into something so dark, so too was this light edged in darkness.

So while the stars could not see it, that path was being tread, the line in the sand had been drawn millennia ago and one foot was placed firmly on both sides.

That opaque light was streaking toward Bespin's moon, heedless of anything but reaching his destination. It was no longer a want, it was a need—an overwhelming desire to find his former master and pull him out of whatever mess he had gotten himself into, all while lecturing him on how this really was the eighth time he had saved him and it really was becoming a nuisance.

The entire time flying back he had been searching for Obi-Wan in the Force. Bonds between Force sensitives, however deep they ran, were not an exact science. While Anakin could generally feel Obi-Wan's presence when he was near, it was unusual to sense him from parsecs away—except in times of great duress.

Yet, Anakin's connection with the Force was . . . different. Even planets away he could feel his former master if he wished. Not that he often did; Obi-Wan would feel it was an invasion of privacy, not to mention he would find it offensive that his former padawan felt the need to check up on him. The exasperated tone of his friend floated briefly through his mind. Anakin, I seem to recall that you are my padawan and not the other way around . . .

No, Anakin never did it often, but it always calmed him to know his former master's calming presence was merely a touch away. Therefore, his nerves still ragged and his mind still searched frantically as they sped toward Bespin. Only rarely did a vision come through the Force so strongly. The continued absence of Obi-Wan scared him, sending a knife of fear straight into his heart.

Thus the sudden thereness, the abrupt return of awareness on Obi-Wan's side caused him to gasp out loud with relief. He was alive, but beyond that . . . he could not tell.

At long last, his ship slipped out of hyperspace and streaked like a falling star toward the moon. Artoo burbled and beeped something at him. "That probably means his comlink is dead," Anakin said in reply. "Don't worry about it, Artoo; I know exactly where he is."

And he did. As bright as Anakin burned in the Force, Obi-Wan matched him lumen by lumen. His signature was more subtle, like the warmth of a glowing sunray caressing an upturned face, yet by no means did that mean he was less powerful. His former master never admitted it; in fact Anakin sometimes wondered if he even knew. Deep down, he admitted to himself that that is where some of his anger toward his friend came from—jealousy. It was almost laughable that he, Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One would be jealous of someone else, but in the darkest depths of his soul he knew it to be true. Obi-Wan possessed power, and people loved him for it. Anakin had that same power—more, even—and people feared him for it.

But now, that light guided him, calling him like a flame set high upon a hill, like a beacon in the night. He flew straight and true, his mind and eyes searching for his friend.

There.

The lengthening shadows lent an eerie quality to the flashing colors of the battle raging below him. The fiery red of the blaster bolts clashed with the electric blue of Obi-Wan's spinning lightsaber, skillfully deflecting shot after shot.

Obi-Wan, I leave you for all of five hours and this is what happens?

For a brief second, he considered blasting the droids surrounding his former master with his starship, then immediately reconsidered. The blasts would be incredibly powerful and the accuracy limited—and he couldn't afford to miss.

"Artoo, get me right over Obi-Wan," he ordered, already moving. "Then get yourself to a safe place." In one swift move, he popped the cockpit hatch and leapt out into whistling wind. He ignored Artoo's frantic bleeps and whistles, focusing on balancing on the wing of his fighter. A feral grin broke out on his face as they skyrocketed toward the fray, his eyes glued on the form of his friend.

This was what he did, saving people.

It was his destiny.

Flipping silently in the air, he sliced a droid on his decent, landing directly behind Obi-Wan's back. "What did I tell you, Master?" he whooped over his shoulder, deflecting another round of blaster bolts. "I definitely think this counts as the eighth time I've rescued you!"

Lightsaber never faltering, Obi-Wan barely deigned to glance in his former padawan's direction. Nevertheless, his disbelief resonated through their bond and his blue-grey eyes betrayed his surprise. "For the record, Anakin, I had it under control!" he growled, dancing to the side. "This doesn't count!"

Anakin grinned fiercely. He would say that. "Now, now Master, what have we said about denying the facts?"

"It will only be a fact once I am actually "rescued," my young friend!"

Even as they fought and bantered, both men slipped easily into his customary position to guard the other's back. Because this is where they belonged—fighting side by side, like brothers. Apart they were powerful but together . . . they were unstoppable.

"So what's the plan?" Anakin asked, spinning to keep a blaster bolt from striking him in the shoulder.

"Plan?" Incredulousness rang in Obi-Wan's voice. "I thought you were the one doing the rescuing!"

"Well, I am rescuing, we just need to figure out the details!"

Obi-Wan didn't answer as he flipped and sliced another droid, trusting Anakin to cover his flank. His breath was becoming labored and Anakin could feel his pain from previous injuries beginning to demand attention. Really, Obi-Wan, we've talked about this . . .

Behind them, Artoo had landed Anakin's starfighter below the hangar and to the right of their position. Anakin caught sight of him peripherally as he flew up to the open hangar.

"We can't take your fighter, it only carries one person!" Landing, Obi-Wan gestured quickly to his right and upwards, to where the sides of the open hangar could be seen about half a kilometer away. "I have a frigate in that hangar over there; it can carry both of us."

"We're running, Master?" If there was one thing Anakin hated more than meditation, it was running from a fight.

"Not running, Anakin." The exasperation was clear. "We are living to fight another day!"

Anakin opened his mouth to argue, but at that very moment another figure appeared, blasting at the Jedi from an outcropping in the rocks above them. Anakin barely caught a glimpse of him as he began his barrage. "What in the nine hells—who the kriff is that?" Anakin swore as he spun and dipped, deflecting the blasts into another droid, sending sparks into the air as it crashed to the ground.

"Language, Anakin! And I have no idea; he's been hunting me all day!"

Anakin was taken aback. "All day? Master—" Before he could finish his comment, a sudden chill slithered into his consciousness. There was no mistaking the sickly burning within his bones provoked by the Dark side.

I know that presence.

"Jahut Malus," he growled, his eyes flashing. "He's bounty hunter scum! I ran into him months ago on Ryloth. He killed anyone who got in his way—including children." The tang of death still rose in his mouth at those memories, grey clouds of ash from mindless death for mere fortune. But in war, justice truly is blind, and senseless deaths of a few became outweighed in the grand scheme of destruction threatening the galaxy. And for him to be here, now . . . the implications tangled and snarled their way through his mind. "Why is he after you?"

Even exhausted, Obi-Wan managed an impressive eye roll. "If I knew would it matter?" Just as the last word left his mouth, he suddenly cried out and sank to one knee, still defending both of them.

"Obi-Wan!" Fear snaking down his spine, Anakin doubled his own efforts, force pushing two droids into one of the sinkholes around them. He could feel Obi-Wan clamping down on his pain through their bond, and knew the wound wasn't serious, but that didn't stop the sudden fire to flare up in his soul.

It's time for this to end. He had seen where the blast had come from, and there was no way he was letting Malus get away now.

"I'm going after him."

"Anakin, no, he has—!" But the rest of his mentor's words were lost in the thrumming of his ears and the anger in his heart.

He had fought Malus before, he was formidable, but he was no match for Anakin. In three large leaps he bounded up the side of the jutting rocks until he landed on the same outcropping as Malus. Landing gracefully in a crouch, his lightsaber was already a blur of motion to deflect the shots fired at him from several feet away.

The narrow ledge proved to be his downfall. He found his range of motion severely limited, his lightsaber dragging as it carved deep furrows into the surrounding rock. Before he could disarm Malus the bounty hunter hurled himself at the young Jedi. For any normal bounty hunter, such a move would have spelled doom. But Malus, untrained in the Force though he was, used what skills he had to power into the lighter Jedi, knocking them both of the ledge and into the air.

The fall was short. Reinforced duralloy met human flesh as both men crashed onto Anakin's yellow starfighter below. Momentarily stunned, Anakin sensed rather than saw the bounty hunter reaching for his weapon beside him. Acting on instinct, Anakin kicked out, smashing the bounty hunter in the knee. With a cry of pain his knee crumpled.

That second was all Anakin needed. Arching his back, he vaulted to his feet, igniting his lightsaber as he did so. The tip of the humming blade stopped centimeters from Malus' throat. Chest heaving, the bounty hunter's eyes looked flinty as he glared at the young Jedi.

"Alright sleemo," Anakin rumbled, his own eyes glinting, blood singing hot and red from the fight. "Who hired you?"

The bounty hunter leered at him, his lips curling into a snarl. Anakin pressed in, the heat of his 'saber singing the hair on Malus' neck. "Who. Hired. You?" Anger churned in his heart.

The bounty hunter opened his mouth—then raised his blaster and fired. It happened so fast that for the briefest of seconds Anakin's concentration waivered as he dodged to the side. The gloating thought he missed quickly transmuted into oh kriff at the realization of where the bolt was heading.

Really? Again? Between one breath and the next he turned and hurtled himself off of the fighter, the explosion from the ignited fuel propelling him forward. The explosion ripped his deactivated lightsaber from his hand as he flew through the air towards the dusty ground. Dimly he was aware of its trajectory, following it with his eyes as it bounced along the ground—

—and into a mine shaft.

He landed less than gracefully, attempting an awkward roll with his momentum. Dread shot through him. Coming to a stop, he groaned to himself. Obi-Wan is going to kill me!

Of all the lessons impressed upon him by his former master, none had made more of an impact. He could hear Obi-Wan's Coruscanti accent echo through his mind. This lightsaber is your life, my very young apprentice!

"Anakin!" Through the smoke and his own confusion he felt rather than saw his former master racing toward him. "Catch!" As his friend rushed by him he deflected one last blaster bolt from the remaining five droids before tossing his own lightsaber toward Anakin. Surprise almost caused Anakin to miss the hilt flying toward him, and a tug of the Force brought it to his hand.

Even from his position on the ground Anakin could see Malus was struggling. Perhaps he had miscalculated the explosion radius, but his jetpack was faltering and he could see where his left arm hung limply against his side. Gathering the Force around him, Obi-Wan leapt into the air, colliding with the bounty hunter where he hovered above the ground. The midair impact carried the two men into the open hangar and out of Anakin's sight.

What is he doing!? The weight of his friend's weapon rested heavy in his hands. The unfamiliar feel drew his attention down, his eyes skimming the silver and black cylinder. A lightsaber is a Jedi's most precious—if not only—possession.

Dread abruptly coiled tighter in the pit of his stomach.

The remaining seeker droids thwarted his desperate urge to follow his master and Malus into the hangar above him. Igniting the humming sapphire blade, he turned to make quick work of the remaining droids. Blade flashing, his mind fixated on the possibilities taking place above him. Obi-Wan had been hurt. He had been fighting and running all day, he was exhausted.

What could he have been thinking?

It always surprised him when people thought of him as the reckless one, the one who jumped into fights without a second thought if it meant saving someone else, the one who gave no regards to his safety while fighting for what he believed in. Where exactly did they think he got it from? Obi-Wan may exude serenity and a façade of "perfect Jedi,"—because it was a façade. After all he did have Qui-Gon Jinn as his master—a legacy he proved again and again. He still remembered being a brand new apprentice watching his master duel others in the Temple with wide eyes, feeling both awe and pride that Obi-Wan Kenobi was his master, and his alone. To tell the truth, he idolized his former master. Yes, he may annoy him incessantly, but in the end there was no one to whom he looked up to more, no one whom he regarded as highly.

The Force seethed around him, surging and undulating to his will. A visceral cry exploded from him, sending a shock wave of power into the droids. Their metallic bodies were nothing against that power; exploding parts skittered and sparked, collapsing into the dust.

Without sparing a backwards glance, Anakin bounded toward the open hangar and to where he had last seen his friend.

Obi-Wan knew he should not have been surprised. To be completely honest, if he was surprised at all, he was surprised that he was surprised. Anakin Skywalker, not listening to direct orders from anyone, let alone the Chancellor of the Republic?

No, of course not. Just another day in the young Jedi's reckless and impetuous life.

By now many would have thought the boy would have outgrown his headstrong nature. But as evidenced by the young man fiercely fighting beside him, protecting his friend with no thought to his own safety—he was very much the same young man who vowed to come back and free the slaves.

Despite his irritation, he felt a warm glow. Despite his many flaws, his friend was aggressively loyal and protective to a fault. And despite his own insistence to the contrary, he knew without his former padawan by his side, he would not have lived as long as he had. They truly were The Team, Kenobi and Skywalker, and their strength consisted of so much more than Jedi principles.

But as the Force was his witness, Anakin would be on the receiving end of a lecture after they got out of this mess.

"So what's the plan?" Anakin's flippant voice floated into his awareness.

"Plan?" Obi-Wan gaped. Scratch that. Anakin would definitely be on the receiving end of a grand lecture after they got out of this mess. The incredulousness ringing in his voice would have to do instead of actually glaring at his former padawan. The glaring would come later. "I thought you were the one doing the rescuing!"

"Well, I am rescuing, we just need to figure out the details!"

Obi-Wan barely contained his groan. I knew I shouldn't be surprised . . . He didn't have the patience for this right now. Night was coming upon them, and his former padawan for all his powers could not see in the dark. He was also tired and in pain, his injuries from before screaming for attention. There was only so long he could push the pain down and back and fighting for your life did nothing to help the body heal.

They needed to leave. Something about this whole situation was wrong. Why had Anakin been pulled away right when a bounty hunter came after me? How did he know I would be here? The thoughts leached through his brain and the sickly feeling from before continued to grow.

They could regroup back at the Negotiator and try to understand the motive behind the bounty hunter. He needed to talk to Anakin.

"We can't take your fighter, it only carries one person!" He had seen Anakin's droid land the fighter several hundred feet away. The open sides of the hangar were barely visible in the darkening light. He pointed to them, dodging and deflecting bolts at the same time. "I have a frigate in that hangar over there; it can carry both of us."

"We're running, Master?" Obi-Wan could hear the scorn dripping from Anakin's voice.

"Not running, Anakin." His former apprentice never liked running from a fight. Sometimes that mentality won battles, and other times it simply led to more death. In Obi-Wan's opinion, this time was probably end in the latter. "We are living to fight another day!"

He had barely finished speaking before the bounty hunter once again made an appearance. His barrage of blaster bolts pelted the two Jedi, adding to the hail of shots coming from the remaining seeker droids.

"What in the nine hells—who the kriff is that?" Anakin swore, his pent up frustration building up in their bond as he slashed and fought.

"Language, Anakin!" Obi-Wan scolded, attempting to keep his own frustration at bay. Until the bounty hunter showed up, both Jedi had almost completely destroyed the droids. "I have no idea who he is; he's been hunting me all day!"

Obi-Wan could sense Anakin's surprise and consternation. "All day? Master—" Recognition suddenly flickered across his face.

"Jahut Malus," he growled, his eyes flashing. "He's bounty hunter scum! I ran into him months ago on Ryloth. He killed anyone who got in his way—including children." Remembering, his chest heaved from exertion and anger.

I knew he seemed familiar . . .

Obi-Wan remembered Anakin after that mission. Obi-Wan himself had not witnessed the destruction left behind by the bounty hunter, but had seen what it had done to Anakin, and had mourned with his friend as he described what he had seen. They had both tried to find the bounty hunter after that, but the man knew how to disappear, and the war demanded their attention elsewhere. Before, the death of innocents would not have gone unpunished, but justice had become one of the casualties of the war as well.

Anakin's growl brought him back to the present. "Why is he after you?"

His muscles burned. The added barrage from Malus was proving to be tiresome. He could feel himself slowing, his concentration slipping just like the blaster bolts past his lightsaber. Still, he managed to roll his eyes at his former padawan's vehemence. No matter how many times he lectured about Jedi reserve the young man simply seemed to disregard it. "If I knew would it matter?"

Yet that split second slip in concentration resulted in misfortune. The shooting pain of a blaster bolt skimming his arm seared into his consciousness. He cried out as he momentarily stumbled, his already exhausted body demanding relief. Blackness sparkled on the edges of his vision, and he found himself fiercely relying on the Force to help him protect them both.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin's fear was evident in his voice and through their bond.

Fear leads to anger . . . Oh Anakin. But his alarming thoughts were pushed away at Anakin's next words.

"I'm going after him."

The gauntlets! Obi-Wan forced himself to his feet, turning just in time to see his friend leap toward Malus, a snarl on his face. "Anakin, no, he has—!" But the younger Jedi was too far away.

That lecture has just upgraded to a full-blown scolding, Obi-Wan thought grimly to himself. If we actually manage to leave this Force forsaken moon. Their combined prowess often proved to be undefeatable, yet all strengths had weaknesses, and Obi-Wan knew for the two them, it was each other. Anakin's reckless behavior often manifested in reaction to his fear for his former master, much to Obi-Wan's vexation. Yet he knew deep down he was a hypocrite, as he would do anything for his former apprentice.

The starfighter explosion rocked the ground, sending fire and heat and a deluge of superheated metal shards into the air. Obi-Wan took it all in with once glance. He saw his friend leap and twist in the air before colliding with the ground. He saw his lightsaber fly from his hand and disappear down a mine shaft. Anakin, what have I always told you? He saw the bounty hunter get thrown by the explosion as well. And he knew what he had to do.

His lightsaber would be no use against the bounty hunter. One touch to the gauntlets and both Jedi would be without a weapon and without a way to defend themselves against the droids. In the dim light Obi-Wan could see the bounty hunter was wounded and struggling with his jetpack, the sputtering jets quickly losing power and altitude. However, the bounty hunter had recognized their escape route, and was heading toward the hangar.

Without a second thought, Obi-Wan raced toward his still tumbling friend. "Anakin!" he called. "Catch!" His lightsaber flew lazily through the air, flipping end over end as it arced toward Anakin. His former padawan could easily finish off the remaining droids as long as he kept Malus occupied.

Gathering the Force around him, he leapt into the air, sailing toward his target. Colliding violently with Malus, their momentum carried them both into the hangar itself.

While Obi-Wan might not have his lightsaber, he did have his fists.

Jedi were trained in all types of combat from a young age. Padawan learners studied the basics of hand-to-hand combat and were encouraged to know how to defend themselves in all types of situations. Obi-Wan knew the basics and various bar fights and unruly brawls throughout his own apprenticeship and that of his padawan had taught him the rest. A Jedi did not seek out a fight, but that did not mean fighting for the right reasons was wrong.

Both men crashed to the floor, sliding to a stop by the far wall. Malus had lost one of his blasters in the explosion, and his left arm hung useless at his side. However Obi-Wan wasn't in much better shape. His ribs and wrist screamed in pain and his legs felt like lead as he staggered to his feet. He still felt a grim satisfaction as he landed a solid punch to the bounty hunter's face. The man grunted and spat blood. Rage poured from him as he turned back to Obi-Wan, his teeth coated with blood as he snarled.

Obi-Wan danced around his high kick and ducked under a swinging right cross. Feinting to the left, he responded with a kick of his own, catching Malus on his wounded arm. The man roared in pain.

His own response was quick. He could mask his intentions with the little Force ability he had, and the swirling cloying pull of the Dark side coiled around and through the room, clouding Obi-Wan's already tired senses. Malus hurled himself at the Jedi, once more swinging wildly with his right arm toward Obi-Wan's face. But at the last moment he shifted his trajectory and drove his fist into Obi-Wan's cracked ribs.

Air exploded out of lungs as the pain threatened to pull him under. He collapsed to his knees, wheezing as he tried to gasp in precious oxygen. His vision wobbled and swam, his eyes refusing to focus on the form of the bounty hunter standing over him.

"Time to die, Jedi," Hot, fetid breath washed across his face. The bounty hunter stepped back and took aim. Obi-Wan only had time for one thought.

Anakin—

A pulsating light, a swirling rage, a call of fear and of love rushing through their bond.

Master!

The blurred form in front of him disappeared in a flurry of blue light, the sapphire blade deflecting the blaster bolt millimeters away from his heart.

His friend stood in front of him, a wall of protection, a specter of retribution. Dark blue eyes flashed dangerously under a tangle of sweaty dark blond curls, wrath marking deep lines into his face. His mouth didn't move, for there were no words to say. With that one shot, the bounty hunter's doom had been sealed. With a wordless snarl, Anakin leapt toward Malus.

No! Obi-Wan's silent cry came too late. Anakin slashed at the bounty hunter's head with speed and strength born of fear. Such a blow would have meant death for any other being in the galaxy. But with shocking speed and strength of his own Malus raised his arms, catching the blade marked for his death against the gauntlets on his forearms.

For the second time in so many hours, the thrumming blade vanished into oblivion. Such was the strength behind Anakin's blow that the lack of contact sent the young Jedi reeling. He stumbled forward, his surprise and indignation evident on his face before the iron fist of the bounty hunter crashed down on the back of his head.

Anakin collapsed to his hands and knees, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Air rasped from his chest and blood dripped from a newly opened gash below his hairline. Both men were so close Obi-Wan could almost reach out and touch the sweat stained tunics of his friend where he knelt on the floor. Obi-Wan could still feel his own wounds screaming for attention, their siren call luring him into the darkening edges of unconsciousness. But the fierce compulsion of protection resonated within him, setting his blood alight. Nothing could have kept him from seeing the glint in the bounty hunter's eyes and the hand aiming the blaster at the back of Anakin's head.

It was as if all the years and responsibility of the totality of the Jedi crashed and collided together in a surging wave, a call of duty and the life cry of the Force. It assaulted his senses, swirling and pulling and surging and calling to him.

His midi-chlorians are off the scale, not even Master Yoda's are that high . . .

Promise me, Obi-Wan, you will train the boy . . .

He is the Chosen One . . .

I do . . . care about you . . . I would not change those years spent with you for anything in the world . . .

You will be a Jedi, I promise . . .

Seeing what was to come, Obi-Wan realized he had a choice. We all must choose what to do with the time that is given us. Obi-Wan Kenobi chose.

A body moved.

A finger twitched.

A blaster fired.

The smallest gasp escaped from Obi-Wan's mouth as he looked down at the smoking hole in his chest.

And an answering gasp of abject horror from Anakin as he saw what had happened. "No!"

Obi-Wan swayed for a moment before his legs buckled beneath him. His knees hit the floor, a jarring sound in the sudden quiet. Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, lips parted, his eyes bright. "Well, this can't be good," he breathed. Then his eyes slid closed and he crumpled to the ground.