If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.

― Ernest Hemingway

Chapter 12

Anakin had never enjoyed the ride up to the Council Chambers. More often than not, a summons to the Council room meant a reprimand for Anakin and a dispute with the Council for Obi-Wan. He always loathed the seeping disappointment from the faces of the Jedi masters, their staring eyes piercing into his soul, their thoughts plain on their faces and in the Force.

Too old, too impatient, too angry, a failure.

He hated to see the stiff stance of his master's shoulders and tense line of his lips pressing together in disapproval. It took Anakin many years to realize the disapproval was equally directed towards the Council as it was towards Anakin. It also took him years to realize the extent of Obi-Wan's work and dedication to keep his corrections to a minimum. Being the Jedi's Chosen One had many disadvantages, including being the one on whom the Council leveled harsher punishments against as an example to others.

As a child, the ride up to the Cambers had seemed to take a lifetime, but nothing compared to the eternity of this one. Gathering the Force around him as protection, he steeled his face as the door swished open.

He had seen Obi-Wan's council seat empty before. The war effort demanded much of all the Jedi, be it Padawan, Knight, or Master. Anakin had even teased his master that he may have been one of the youngest masters ever elected, but no one would ever know because he was never there. His master had simply rolled his eyes and stated if he would be remembered for anything, it would be his long-suffering patience he had developed while training him.

But this time was different. Stepping forward to the center of the lofty room, Anakin bowed stiffly to the council, his eyes steadfastly avoiding the conspicuously empty seat.

The fact that Obi-Wan had been dead for several months—one hundred and twenty seven days, Anakin's mind filled in—but no other council member had been elected in his place clearly indicated the dreadful shortage of Jedi. They were losing more each day. Sometimes Anakin found himself walking through the entire Temple without encountering another soul. The war was taking its toll on all.

"Knight Skywalker," Master Windu's deep voice rumbled through the air. Anakin could sense his disapproval even before he began to speak.

What else is new?

"Masters," he replied, keeping his voice even and neutral, his mental shields locked down tight. He knew what was coming. And he held no illusions to what was going to happen to him either. He no longer had Obi-Wan to fight for him. Fine.

But he was not about to let the only life he had ever really known go without a fight. Thrusting out his chin, he looked defiantly at the two Grand Masters in front of him, ready for their verdict. Master Windu glanced over at Yoda's diminutive form beside him, pulling his brows together. But neither master said a word.

Go on, throw me out. I know you've been waiting for this your whole lives. A brief flash of guilt sped through him as he pictured Obi-Wan's face at his thoughts. But Obi-Wan was gone. He was on his own now.

The silence continued and for the first time Anakin felt a shimmering of something in the Force—not fear—but an emotion close enough to it that he almost stepped back in stunned astonishment. The masters of the Jedi Council, the best and brightest of the entire Jedi Order were unanimously and exceedingly worried about something.

Me?

Surreptitiously he probed further. No, it wasn't him they were afraid of—it was something else.

As if responding to a hidden signal, both Master Yoda and Master Windu turned to look straight at the young knight standing before them.

"Hear, we did, of your encounter with Malus," Yoda's large ears twitched as he gazed owlishly at Anakin. Anakin unconsciously straightened his tense shoulders. He knew better than to interrupt to defend himself. Yet.

Yoda paused and looked around the room at the other council members. For the first time Anakin noticed that all the council members were present, physically or not, their holographic bodies flickering in the red sunlight. He could see the thick branches and vines of Mygeeto crowding in behind Ki-Adi Mundi even through the flickering hologram. His stomach dropped lower.

Master Windu continued where Yoda had left off. "While we are not pleased,"—his emphasis on the word clearly indicated how displeased he was—"about your…actions on Stenos, we have a mission that we believe that only you have the qualifications."

"Masters—" Anakin began, then stopped in shock. "A mission?" His mouth tried to form words, instead his thoughts seemed to freeze before ever reaching his lips. "I-I thought...I mean...I'm not..."

A muscle in Master Windu's jaw jumped. "Believe me, I thought so as well. However, these are difficult time. The Force grows dark, Anakin. We all can feel it." He looked around at his fellow council members, their grim and scarred faces saying more than words ever could. "This is not a decision we came to lightly. Consider this mission as a probation, Skywalker. Your actions are not befitting of a general, but especially not befitting of a Jedi knight. However, we are at war. Such times call for uncommon actions."

Shaking his head and feeling utterly confused, all Anakin could do was wait for the Council to continue.

Master Yoda blinked slowly again, his ears dipping slightly as he gazed at Anakin. "A mission, we have for you, young Skywalker. Stay with the Chancellor, you must. Watch him, you will."

"I'm-I'm sorry, masters. I don't understand. Is the Chancellor in danger?"

A ripple of unease percolated through the room. "Not in danger," Master Windu said with intent, his dark eyes boring into Anakin. "We want you to report on his doings to the Council."

The Korun master's words hit him like an out of control speeder. Shock and anger seethed to the surface of his mind, seeping out from their dark recesses, threatening to curl out from behind his durasteel shields.

"Report on his doings? You mean to spy on him?" His mind balked at the word. "That's treason!"

Windu's voice was cold as ice. "Anakin, as you know, we are at war. Our loyalty is to the Republic, not to a man who has managed to stay in power long after his term has expired."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "The Chancellor is a great man! He has only stayed in power because the Senate asked him to!"

Drawing his brows together again, Master Windu's face gathered together into a fierce scowl. "A great man whose only actions seem to prolong a war that no one benefits from, except a Sith."

Anakin felt his resolve faltering. "There's no way...the Jedi would sense it!"

I would sense it.

"Clouded, the future is," Yoda emphasized his words by thrusting a clawed green finger toward Anakin. "But sense, we do, the darkness centers on Coruscant, it does."

That nagging feeling, the underlying fear...

There's someone high up, someone with power...It's here, on Coruscant...be careful...

Stuttering to a stop, his eyes darted around the room, seeking desperately for support, for assurance that what he was hearing was simply a joke even while knowing it was all too true. It was like a never ending nightmare that he wished to wake up from but knowing the night had just started. Could they be right? Could the one man who truly listened to Anakin, who cared about the person he was and not the Jedi, could he be the Sith they were looking for?

His anxious eyes flew around the room once more before finding themselves irreversibly drawn to the one seat he had been avoiding. Suddenly his resistance crumbled. Force, he missed his master's guidance terribly. If Obi-Wan was here now—he would know what to do.

But it was only Anakin now—he was alone. Everything in him screamed against the mission—treason, for Force's sake!—worse, it was betrayal of a friend.

But this mission, it gave him the chance to stay on Coruscant. To stay with Padmé...the baby...his heart jumped at the thought. Perhaps Padmé wouldn't have to hide on Naboo. Perhaps...perhaps he could be there when their child was brought into this world. Suddenly that thought overwhelmed any doubts he had. He could be to the child what Obi-Wan had been to him, a father.

He would do it, but he knew the Jedi had made a choice they could never come back from. War had changed everyone in the Galaxy, even it's self appointed guardians of the light. There was no going back.

He bowed, forcing the self-hatred and bile back down his throat. "I will take this mission, Masters," he said.

And the Force help us if we are wrong.

Sidious gazed at the young knight pacing restlessly across the soft carpet in his Senate office. Even without the Force he could sense the turmoil roiling underneath his calm façade. He earnestly doubted Anakin had gotten a decent night's sleep after the death of his master—the dark circles under his eyes, the almost imperceptible sloping of his shoulders testified to that fact. The boy was in drowning in chaos. He was fighting a losing struggle with the waves, struggling to keep from drowning. Sidious could feel the pain and confusion eating away at his very core, slowly fragmenting away the light within.

He loved it.

"My dear boy," he schooled his voice to sound like the grandfatherly figure with whom the galaxy equated him. "Will you please tell me what is bothering you?

In the past, such a request would have had Anakin venting anything that came to his mind—his frustration at his master, his feelings for Padmé, his anger and disillusionment with the Jedi Order. Playing the role of sole confidant and listening ear to the young slave boy from Tatooine gave Sidious a leverage over Anakin that no one else had, not even his own master. He preyed on his doubts, cultivating the seeds of disillusionment and anger, stoking the fire until it was ready to burst into flames.

Anakin opened his mouth, pausing for a second before snapping it closed and shaking his head. "Forgive me, Chancellor," he said, finally stopping his pacing and halting beside the sprawling desk annexing half the room. "I'm just on edge. This threat against your life has me worried."

He's lying.

Shock and rage simmered through Sidious. There was not threat on his life. Being the one who truly manipulated the players on this galactic version of Dejarik did give him a slight insight into the ways of the Separatists. However, for the past several days Anakin's company followed him wherever he went under the pretense of responding to a threat against his life. He didn't know what game the Jedi were play at now, and it made him uneasy. He didn't like being uneasy.

Before answering, he smothered his reactions with the correct combination of concern and weary indifference.

"I'm sure there must be something more important for you to be doing, my young friend, rather than guarding little old me. Surely the Jedi aren't simply keeping you here in response to that...unpleasantness on Stenos?"

Fists curling almost imperceptibly Anakin huffed a mirthless laugh. "And here I remember you telling me several months ago that I was the only Jedi you trusted to protect you..." He trailed off, suddenly distracted, his eyes looking somewhere only he could see.

"Of course I trust you explicitly, Anakin. I merely wonder..." he sighed and shook his head with feigned sadness. "I sometimes wonder if the Council takes advantage of you."

"This war is trying for all the Jedi, Chancellor." Once again Anakin trailed off.

"Yes?" Sidious prompted. He would get information out of the boy one way or another.

The young man turned his gaze out the windows that overlooked the sprawling artificial expanse of Coruscant's surface towards the Temple. In this light he seemed diminished somehow, as though someone had taken the Hero With No Fear and removed something vital to his wellbeing. To be fair, Sidious thought gleefully, someone had.

"Sometimes I wonder what's going to happen to the Jedi after the war," Anakin's voice spoke up softly, as though surprised at himself to daring to voice his thoughts. His lips twisted as he drew away from the window and turned back into the room. "At times I can't even recognize the Order anymore."

The twisting tendril of doubt came to Sidious like a drifting perfume. He grasped at it, playing a game of souls like others play at Sabacc. He stood up from behind his desk, placing a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the young man before him. "Perhaps it is time for the Jedi to change," he said carefully, watching for his words to take root, to twist and destroy the already fragile trust Anakin possessed in the Jedi. "There are aspects of the Force the Jedi dare not explore."

Anakin seemed to start at that. Drawing his brows together, he shot Sidious an indecipherable look before answering. "You know the ways of the Force?"

"I am merely commenting on what I have observed, Anakin," he responded vaguely, gesturing dismissively in the direction of the Jedi Temple. "In my opinion, the Jedi view does sometimes seem rather narrow and dogmatic."

A distant look crossed Anakin's face, a shadow of sorrow and pain. "Obi-Wan would not think so."

Within the hidden depths of Palpatine's soul—if what deformed and twisted flickering form within him could be called that—he sneered. Even in death that narrow-minded devotee to the light maintained his control over Anakin. Removing his hand from Anakin's shoulder he inclined his head and narrowed his eyes as he responded.

"Anakin, your master is no longer here. You don't need to be bound by his teachings any longer."

Something within Anakin appeared to flicker. His shoulders straightened as he looked at the Chancellor, the depths of his eyes shining with an emotion Sidious could not place. "The Jedi may not be perfect, My Lord, but they understand the need for hope in this Galaxy. Obi-Wan understood that. Dogmatic or not, that will always be relevant."

Due to the politician within, Sidious knew when to demure to his challenger. "Of course, you are right my young friend. I meant no harm."

Anakin appeared withdrawn as he nodded. "Of course, Chancellor." He blinked and swallowed as he backed away from Sidious. "I-if you'll excuse me, I need to go." Bowing hastily, he turned and almost fled out the door.

Something was wrong. Sidious could tell the boy was not acting like himself. Closing his eyes, he probed Anakin's mind, slipping in behind his wavering shields unawares as the young Jedi slowly faded from his senses into the mass throng of beings populating the Senate rooms.

Fear, sorrow, guilt, betrayal, suspicion.

Sidious nearly hissed out loud at the last emotion. Whatever was happening in Skywalker would need to be stopped. He had worked too hard on this insolent pup to allow the cursed Jedi to take his prize away from him.

No. Skywalker would be his. The rule of the Jedi was almost over.

It was time for the rise of the Sith.

As if in a daze, Anakin slipped out of the Chancellors quarters. His body suddenly felt a thousand pound heavier, his legs struggled to hold him up. He pressed his trembling arms against the wall, his head hanging down between them.

Your master is no longer here . . . there are aspects of the Force the Jedi dare not explore . . .

He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Wrong wrong this is wrong! his instincts screamed at him.

But the remembrance of the past hit him so hard he almost staggered. I seem to remember you thought I was the only Jedi who could protect you...

The only Jedi . . .

He had been called away while Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan had been left alone.

No. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't. The Chancellor of the Republic, his friend, was a Sith lord.

His heart seemed to be torn in two. If he reported his suspicion to the Council he would be vindicated. He would prove his worth to the Jedi Order. He would be fulfilling his role as the Chosen One.

But at what cost?

The man would be taken to trial. Whatever punishment the Senate dolled out could not even begin to hurt the monster in that room the way he had hurt the Galaxy, the way he hurt him. The thousands of lives lost, the clones, the civilians, the Jedi. His own personal betrayal.

Anakin's world seemed to be spinning around him, the dizzying colors intertwining and merging in front of him. His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps. Nothing seemed to make sense, but at the same time everything did.

If he went to trial, Palpatine would never truly pay for what he did. He would never answer for the anguish Anakin felt day in and out at the ragged hole in his heart where his master used to reside.

He could not let that happen.

With sudden, purposeful strides, Anakin stormed back towards the rooms he had just exited. And if any being walking by had glanced into the young man's face, they would have noticed the strange yellow hue seeping into his flashing eyes.