A/N: This one was really hard to write.

RESOLVE II

10.

Time itself appeared to slow for Obi-Wan. The fires' flicker traced slow patterns as it raised into the sky and the running Tuskens seemed almost frozen in the moment—some running away from the commotion, some running towards it with gaffi sticks raised. The blue glow of Anakin's lightsaber left the body of the Tusken child.

There was no blood spatter. Lightsabers vaporised and cauterised as they cut through organics. A dangerous weapon, yet with perfect control it was possible to bring down the most dangerous beings without killing them. No one bled to death as a result of a lightsaber wound. The wielder had complete control over the fate of their adversary, and Jedi were known for their restraint—always seeking peaceful resolutions before resorting to violence, and killing only as a last resort.

Obi-Wan saw no restraint in the tilt of Anakin's blade as it sliced clean through the neck of the small Tusken.

Frozen in that moment where Obi-Wan drew in the scene, more children had their backs to Anakin, attempting to flee. Mothers had their arms held open, beckoning the children back. Men with gaffi sticks and primitive rifles charged down on the young Jedi. Despite their aggressive and desperate defence Anakin stood calm in the motion, showing neither shock nor regret for what he was doing. His brows were drawn low over his eyes, his face set into a hateful scowl.

In that moment, Obi-Wan sensed Anakin's pain transform into hatred.

Time resumed its normal pace and Obi-Wan found himself struggling to take in proper breaths. His knees felt weak. Eyes wide with his mounting horror he nearly slumped against his starfighter. A Tusken charged him from his left and Obi-Wan reacted on pure instinct, pushing his attacker away with the Force.

The whir of Anakin's blade drew Obi-Wan's attention back to the Tuskens' desperate fight. With a concerted effort Obi-Wan drew the Force around himself and pushed away his shock so he could act.

He ran towards the spinning blue blade and the cries of death, ignoring the frightened children and women he passed. Ahead the men took notice of him and a few split off to attack him.

Obi-Wan would not harm them. They were only defending themselves and perceived him to be allied with Anakin. That was the logical conclusion and Obi-Wan would not fault them for their aggression.

But he didn't have time to try and explain.

Obi-Wan calmed as the Force swelled and came to him with an eagerness he'd not felt since he battled Dooku. He sent a powerful wave of Force-suggestion out over the Tuskens near him and charging towards him. Be at peace, I'm here to help.

The charging Tuskens slowed to a stop and lowered their gaffi sticks as Obi-Wan rushed passed them, his lightsaber in his hand, but not yet ignited. Ahead, Anakin swung towards another Tusken warrior. The angle of his blade would have severed the man's torso from his legs, but Obi-Wan reached them in time to block Anakin's deep blue blade with his own cerulean lightsaber.

The screech the blades made as they clashed and struggled to overpower one another set the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck on end. The scent of electrical discharge mixed with that of burning flesh and smoke.

"What are you doing, Anakin!" Obi-Wan yelled.

The nineteen year old boy gave no response, still too lost in his own hatred to register the words, or even who spoke them. He drew back from the stalemate and lashed out at Obi-Wan with a series of powerful strikes.

Obi-Wan parried them and kept his defence tight while simultaneously sending waves of Force-suggestion outward, urging the Tuskens to flee. Most turned tail and moved towards the outskirts of the settlement, joining the women and children already heading for the craggy canyons to the west. But many strong-willed warriors stayed rooted and ready to attack. Obi-Wan sensed their confusion, but also their wariness and understanding. They'd seen what Anakin's lightsaber could do to their people. And while the two Jedi battled, Obi-Wan knew the Tuskens would not interfere.

The moans of the grievously injured rose into the night and sent a jolt of distress through Obi-Wan.

His padawan had done this.

"Anakin!" He yelled again, trying to rouse the boy from the vengeful trance he'd slipped into. Obi-Wan continued to block and parry his apprentice's deadly attacks, knowing that the longer he allowed this to continue, the worse it would get. But he could not harm Anakin. He simply couldn't.

With a desperate move after parrying a downward strike Obi-Wan stepped in close, underneath Anakin's guard. He took his right hand off his lightsaber and slapped Anakin across the face. Hard. Hoping the unexpected blow would knock him back to his senses. The force of the blow knocked the boy off his feet, and as he fell backwards the tip of his blade seared across Obi-Wan's left arm, carving a burnt line midway between elbow and shoulder.

Numbed by the pain Obi-Wan's left hand lost its grip on his lightsaber. He dropped to his knee and held his right hand out to call the hilt to him, but before he could ignite it once more he found the tip of Anakin's lightsaber beneath his chin.

Obi-Wan dared not even breathe.

He looked up into Anakin's hate-filled eyes, and wondered if he was truly about to die by his apprentice's hand. A deep sadness overcame him in that moment. He'd been unable to protect Anakin from the Sith. Their hatred had taken hold.

His vision blurred as he felt the tears gather in his eyes, but Obi-Wan did not allow them to fall. He blinked them away and kept his gaze steady on Anakin's eyes. "Solah," he managed to say. His voice was barely above a whisper, and went almost unheard among the cacophony of moans, flames, and Tusken cries.

But that one word of surrender appeared to penetrate the obscuring fog of Anakin's hatred.

The boy blinked, the hatred in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by confusion and fear. His mouth fell open in shock, his jaw quivered as he tried to remember how to speak. Noticing his lightsaber poised at his master's throat he retracted the blade and dropped the hilt, as though it had burned him.

"What. . . I. . ." he said, chest heaving.

Obi-Wan pushed himself to his feet and ignored the searing pain in his left arm. He held his right hand out to Anakin in a calming gesture.

"Anakin," he said gently.

"What have I done?" Anakin said as he spun around and surveyed the carnage around him. "What have I done?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan tried again, his tone soothing. He gently gripped Anakin's shoulder.

"What have I done?" Anakin repeated as he met Obi-Wan's eyes. His eyes lit up in sudden remembrance and he turned and ran towards one of the huts. Obi-Wan followed.

"Anakin!" He called after him, but the boy did not slow.

The boy peered into the hut, then recoiled and started pacing, holding his head in his hands. Obi-Wan reached the hut and looked within, still unsure how in stars' name he was supposed to handle what he'd just witnessed. A woman lay on the ground, and Obi-Wan sensed no life in her.

"They killed her," Anakin said. "They killed my mother."

Obi-Wan pushed away his own feelings and attempted to study Anakin with a calm heart.

"They killed her," Anakin said again. Obi-Wan noted that the anger was returning to Anakin's eyes, and could no longer ignore it.

"And you would have slaughtered them all had I not come here," Obi-Wan said quietly, hoping that his words would be enough to shock the boy into seeing reason.

"They're animals!" Anakin yelled. Pain and grief and hatred dripped off every syllable.

"They are sentient beings, Anakin!" Obi-Wan's gentle voice rose in frustration and disbelief.

"I don't care!" Anakin yelled.

"You don't remedy one injustice with more injustice, Anakin!" Obi-Wan shook his head, his disbelief and impatience rising. His horror returning.

"All they do is hurt people! They deserved to die!" Anakin kicked a stone into a nearby fire and glared at Obi-Wan with a torn and angry expression.

"And the younglings?" Obi-Wan yelled, voice breaking on the final word. Lines carved deeply into his brow as he tried to fight back his own despair. The boy he had trained had fallen so far and the Jedi Master had no idea what to do. How could he justify this? Obi-Wan's tight reign on his emotions snapped. His breathing became ragged as he ran a hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at Anakin.

Perhaps it was seeing his stoic and enduring master so crushed that finally broke through to the young man.

"I. . ." Anakin said, trying to find the right words, but failing.

"You will be expelled from the Jedi Order," Obi-Wan managed to say through the lump in his throat. "I cannot save you from this. You've given in. . . to hatred, Anakin. You've killed with a vengeful heart."

Obi-Wan was beginning to feel light-headed. He was breathing too fast. With concentration he slowed his breathing and rebalanced himself, releasing his distress into the Force. He would break down again later, he was sure, but right now he needed to stand firm.

"I understand the heartache of losing a parent, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "And I understand the anger. But I cannot condone what you've just done."

"How could you understand?" Anakin said, tone accusatory. "You grew up in the Temple. You never knew your parents. You've been a Jedi your whole life. You don't see how the Order tries to control you! It's natural to have emotions. To love!"

For a moment Obi-Wan held his tongue. He took a deep breath. "I loved Qui-Gon as a son loves his father," he met Anakin's eyes. "But there is a difference between love and attachment, padawan. Have I not taught you this?" Obi-Wan's voice tapered into a whisper, his despair fighting to resurface. He glanced at the maimed bodies around them. At the Tuskens still hesitating nearby, their gaffi sticks held firm in front of them. "You've slaughtered innocents because you couldn't let go."

"What would you have had me do?" Anakin cried, rubbing angry tears from his cheeks and sniffing loudly.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan said.

"What?"

"It is far harder to let go of our vengeance than it is to act on it," Obi-Wan took another deep breath. "It is far harder to show compassion to an enemy, than to a friend. I have tried to teach you this, but clearly I have failed."

Lines danced across Anakin's brow as he absorbed Obi-Wan's words. His eyes darted between Obi-Wan and the corpses littering the settlement. "What do I. . . do now?" He said, the fight draining from him, but his chest still heaved with thick emotion.

"You return to Coruscant with me, and face the consequences of your actions," Obi-Wan worked hard to keep his voice steady, but a slight tremble persisted.

"To the Jedi?"

"Yes."

"I can't," Anakin almost wheezed, as though the thought itself caused him physical pain. "They wouldn't understand. They just want to control me. They've been trying to control me since Naboo. Just like the Sith tried."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as a sense of hopelessness tried to overwhelm him. The Jedi were trying to guide him down the path of balance. The difference was that Anakin had given in to the dark side. He'd felt it from the boy as he cut through the Tuskens. Anakin had been engulfed by a choking void of pure hatred, passion, and vengeance. But, a voice in the back of Obi-Wan's head reminded him, he was able to stop himself before he killed you.

Perhaps that was his only saving grace.

Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his throat. "You have a choice to make here, Anakin," he said.

"What?" Anakin's pacing stopped. He stared at Obi-Wan with wide eyes and parted lips.

"It is your choice," Obi-Wan restated. "The Republic, and by extension the Jedi, have no jurisdiction on Tatooine. My mind wails at me to drag you home, kicking and screaming if I must, but my heart knows that it is not my choice to make.

"I have tried to guide you towards a place of balance, towards the side of life. Your actions here today are reprehensible, and a reflection of my own failure, but you are not irredeemable, Anakin. So I leave your next step in your own hands.

"What will you do, padawan mine?"

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin's face slowly broke into an expression of complete loss and anguish. The boy sank to his knees, and Obi-Wan took quick strides towards him. He knelt down on one knee next to the boy, and placed his right hand gently on the back of the boy's neck, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

"I can't go back," Anakin said, voice broken. "I have to bury my mother."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, then sighed. "Siri will not give you this same choice."

"She's here too?" Anakin's voice was overcome with tears, his shoulders quaking.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "She's with Ferus and Senator Amidala."

"I. . . I don't know what to do."

Anakin's voice was so broken that Obi-Wan struggled to keep the frayed edges of his own composure together.

"Listen to the Force, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "Feel it. Trust your instincts. What does it tell you?"

"I don't know," Anakin said. "It doesn't guide me the way it guides you, master."

Obi-Wan's heart broke at how lost Anakin sounded. He knew what the Force wanted him to do. He could feel it in his very bones, but he could not tell Anakin this. The boy needed to make this decision for himself.

"Emotion, yet peace," Obi-Wan said calmly. Anakin raised his head to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. Confusion shone on the young man's expression. "Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force."

"That's not. . ." Anakin said. Through the tears still clinging to his cheeks his expression clearly displayed that he did not understand why Obi-Wan suddenly decided to recite a mantra to him.

"It is the old code, young one," Obi-Wan said.

"What do you mean?"

"Long ago, the Jedi thought the version of the code currently taught to our younglings would make it easier for them to cultivate self-discipline, tolerance, compassion, and harmony within themselves," Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "It's a very old philosophical discussion. When I began your training I followed the modern precepts, but I should have taken a more unorthodox approach for such an unorthodox student. That was my failing. You feel so deeply, Anakin, and I fear you've been trying to repress your feelings instead of accepting them and releasing them into the Force.

"Your greatest challenge has always been to find peace within emotion."

"But how?" Anakin almost wailed. "My mother is dead and I. . . I killed. . . She. . . She would be so ashamed of me."

The boy broke down and all Obi-Wan could do was pull him close with his uninjured arm and brace against the quaking shoulders. He shoved his own emotion away, determined to be a pillar of strength for the boy.

"Would your mother forgive you?" Obi-Wan asked gently.

Anakin held his breath, his shoulders jerking to a stillness. "I don't know," he said, releasing his breath and gasping in more air.

"She's your mother," Obi-Wan pointed out, hoping the boy would figure it out for himself.

"Maybe she would," Anakin sniffled, calming slightly. "But not if. . ."

"Not if?" Obi-Wan prompted, rubbing the back of the boy's neck.

"Not if I wasn't truly sorry."

"How do you feel about what you've done?" Obi-Wan stayed steady against the storm of emotion coming off his padawan.

Anakin was still for a long time. Then, he shrugged Obi-Wan's arm from his shoulders and stood, moving away from the Jedi Master who stayed kneeling on the ground. Anakin turned his back to the scene and furiously wiped his eyes.

"They deserved it," Anakin said, voice rough.

"Maybe so," Obi-Wan pushed himself to stand even as his heart fell through his boots. "But that was not for you to decide. You have great power, Anakin. And power without restraint is simply chaos and destruction. Will you see the universe fall to ruin just so you can have your way?"

"They killed my mother!" Anakin yelled, the fury returning to his eyes.

Obi-Wan was unmoved by the sentiment. "Yes," he said. "And you indiscriminately slaughtered half their people."

Anakin took a step back as if struck. "You're taking the sand people's side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side, Anakin!" Obi-Wan yelled, finally allowing his frustration to show. "I am a Jedi! I preserve peace in order to preserve life. We cannot change entire cultures to make things easier for ourselves! To abuse our power in such a way is a path that can only end in death and darkness."

Obi-Wan kept his focus on his padawan, watching with a steady gaze as the boy scowled and took note of the Tuskens still watching from a safe distance. Anakin took a deep breath through his nose and then ignited his lightsaber again. A flash of fear travelled through the Tuskens.

"Don't you dare," Obi-Wan said as he ignited his own saber as well. He steeled himself against the possibility that he would have to fight Anakin in earnest, and waited.

Anakin breathed harshly through his nose, shoulders heaving again. He looked around, turning his head to face Obi-Wan, then the Tuskens still lingering with gaffi sticks, to the corpses littering the ground, to the stars. Finally, with a cry of pure anguish he turned around and swung his blade in an inelegant arc at the nearest hut.

Obi-Wan lowered his lightsaber, but did not extinguish its bright glow, and watched passively as Anakin unrelentingly hacked away at the dwelling's leathery walls. When he finally exhausted himself nothing but a charred skeleton remained. The cuts along the leather skins and bone supports glowed orange, and slowly faded to black.

Anakin extinguished his lightsaber, his back still to Obi-Wan.

"Will you bury my mother?" He asked, voice rough, but unusually steady.

Obi-Wan withdrew his own blade and stowed the hilt at his side before he found himself willing to answer. Anakin's outburst may not have surprised him, but he feared for the boy. He feared where such a lack of control would lead him.

"You've made your choice, then?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice a whisper of its former strength.

"Will you bury her?" Anakin asked again, more forceful this time.

"I will return her to her family," Obi-Wan said, fighting against the pain he felt at what he knew was next to come. "Please, Anakin. . . do not cling to hatred."

Anakin said nothing, but he nodded his head, back still turned away from Obi-Wan. The boy did not glance back as he walked away, into the darkness of Tatooine's bitter cold night.

Obi-Wan let him go.

The moans of dying Tuskens were the only reason Obi-Wan did not sink to the ground to meditate on the spot. He turned, eyes dry but heart aching, and walked towards the nearest injured warrior. The other Tuskens leaped to his defence, holding out their gaffi sticks in warning.

Obi-Wan stopped, and after taking a deep breath made his intentions clear through the Force. He did not speak their language, and they did not speak his, but the Force was universal. They parted with some hesitance, but allowed Obi-Wan to crouch next to the fallen warrior.

A burnt slash ran from the Tusken's shoulder to stomach. Obi-Wan sensed the being's distress as it lay there shaking. He held a calming hand above the Tusken's head and sent a wave of sleep compulsion to his mind. The warrior stilled immediately, and the rise and fall of his chest changed from its erratic tempo to a steady rhythm. Obi-Wan studied the slash, and determined that the Tusken would survive.

The Jedi moved on to the next injured lifeform. Then the next. At some point he retrieved the medical kit from his starfighter, and through the night he did what he could for the victims of Anakin's brutal assault. There weren't many who would live, but maybe those who did, and those who had escaped unscathed would remember the strange human's compassion, instead of the angry youth's violence.

Obi-Wan shivered in the cold desert night as he walked back to the hut where Shmi Skywalker's remains still lay. A grey bantha wool sheet lay on the floor near her. He stretched it out on the floor, then—ignoring the still searing pain in his arm—he carefully picked up the slight body of Shmi and placed her in the centre of the sheet. Obi-Wan worked slowly, and gently.

When he emerged from the hut with her fragile weight resting in his arms the Tuskens watched him. Their gaffi sticks rested lamely against the ground, and none of them made a sound as they followed Obi-Wan's trek with their eyes.

Arfour opened the cockpit when Obi-Wan approached. With the care of a mother holding a newborn babe Obi-Wan lowered Shmi into the cockpit, and strapped her in.

"Take her to the farm, Arfour," Obi-Wan said. "Then come back for me. I'll activate my comlink's homing signal so you can find me. I'm not staying here."

Arfour beeped its confirmation and closed the cockpit. Obi-Wan stepped back and watched as the ship took off and soared into the distance. The ion engines became two tiny pinpricks in the distance, then disappeared.

Obi-Wan walked away from the Tusken settlement without glancing back to the devastation left by his padawan's blade. He took his comlink out of his belt, noticing for the first time the fog his breath created, and the chill in his fingers. He sent a comm request to Siri's device and waited.

"Obi-Wan!" Siri's voice came through almost immediately.

"My starfighter is on its way to you," he said. "Anakin's mother is in the cockpit."

"What happened?" The urgency in Siri's voice made it clear to Obi-Wan that Siri had felt the volatile conflict.

"I'll explain when I get there," Obi-Wan said, unwilling to discuss it over a comlink frequency. "Siri, prepare the family."

"I take it she didn't make it," Siri's voice dropped to a near whisper.

"No," Obi-Wan said.

When Arfour returned for Obi-Wan the twin suns were cresting over the dunes. He collapsed into the pilot's seat, feeling like he'd aged fifty years in that one night alone, and let the droid fly him back to the Lars farmstead.

Arfour set the starfighter down next to the shining Nubian cruiser. Obi-Wan listened to the whir of the ship's systems die down to silence, but made no effort to get out of the cockpit. He leaned his head back and stared at the sky as it shifted from deepest turquoise to bright blue. He felt Siri's presence standing on the sands outside, but felt no compulsion to speak to her. Yet, he knew he could not delay forever.

Obi-Wan opened the cockpit and used his right arm to leverage himself out of his seat. With a soft groan he managed to get his feet under him and stepped out onto the wing, then down onto the sand where Siri stood waiting.

Ferus stood a respectful distance away, next to a visibly shaken Padme.

No one spoke.

Obi-Wan gazed past them all into the distance, where vaporator towers loomed in neat rows. He could feel the sand in his beard and in his hair, in his boots and between the layers of his tunics. He found it difficult to care.

He felt the sting of the lightsaber wound on his arm, the ache in his head and the bruises on his torso from his fight with Fett, and found he did not care about the pain either.

He felt Siri's stern and questioning eyes on him, and Ferus' nervous presence. He felt the sadness from the beings in the dwelling below, and the uncertainty from the Senator. He tried not to care, but found his heart wouldn't let him.

Padme was the first to break the silence.

"Where is Anakin?" She asked.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth and he suddenly realised how thirsty he was. "He's not coming back," he said once he'd gotten his tongue under control.

"What do you mean?" Padme asked, uncrossing her arms and stomping forward to stand next to Siri. "Is he all right?"

"He is deeply troubled," Obi-Wan said, beginning to feel oddly detached from his emotions. "But physically he is fine."

"What happened out there, Obi-Wan?" Siri cut in, her tone sharp like a blade. She did not mince her words when she said, "I sensed a great disturbance, a hatred that was almost palpable, and beings dying left and right. What. Happened?"

"Anakin. . ." Obi-Wan paused to take a breath he didn't know he needed. "Anakin cut them down. The Tuskens. Killed them. Would have killed them all had I not been there."

"And where is he now?" Siri asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said, tone conveying his rising apathy. Perhaps he was simply exhausted. Maybe he was in shock.

"You let him go?" Siri asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, still staring at the pattern of vaporators sticking out of the sea of sand ahead.

"How could you let him go?" Siri asked, her brows carved angry lines on her forehead. "He—" Siri cut herself off, too angry to speak.

Obi-Wan stared out at the vaporators.

A/N: I rewrote some of the dialogue several times, and I'm still not sure if I've managed to balance the circumstances and character reactions well enough. You be the judge!

I'll be responding to reviews on last chapter shortly. If I am unable to PM you, know that I appreciate the time you take to give me your thoughts!