Chapter 22 – Path to Destruction

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Star Wars or any of the characters in it, though we wish we did. xD

Author's Note: In which Ahsoka tries to cope with her guilt, and Anakin continues his mission...

Thank you all so, so much for all the support you've shown this story! Brotherhood now has over 100 favorites and 150 follows. I'm speechless with gratitude to each and every one of you! If not for you, I probably would have long since abandoned this concept. I love reviews too. Just knowing what you think about the chapters means a lot! :D

If there's anything you would like to see such as relationships or moments between the characters, just let me know! I'll take everything you say into consideration, promise! :) My best ideas come from you, the readers!

In response to the guest reviews: I have to balance emotions and actions. If I don't include action to speed up the plot, everything will become stagnant and boring. I know what I'm doing and what I'm planning, and there will be more emotional moments coming up. :)

~ Amina Gila

Ahsoka sits with her knees pulled up, arms crossed atop them as she stares out at the gardens. Let it never be said that Dooku doesn't know the beauty of greenery. She returned to Serenno yesterday, and despite the time, she's still very troubled. She – she doesn't know what she wants, actually, but the gnawing guilt inside her isn't fading. Though she's been keeping a distance from the others in the hopes of sorting out her thoughts, it's not helping nearly as much as she'd hoped it would.

The clones have established a sort of rhythm here which she knows about only because she asked Anakin what they've been doing. Apparently, he got Rex, Hardcase, Echo, and Appo involved in his numerous engineering projects, most of which involve taking apart damaged shuttles and creating completely new, personalized models. It keeps them entertained, so she doesn't mind. Besides, the shuttles will probably be useful, even if they're not employed in battles.

Dooku had once spoken to everyone about the political aspect of the Clone Wars, and as a result, unintentionally inspired Fives to find a way to not only free the clones from their forced servitude, but also, end the war diplomatically. Ever since, Fives and Tup have spent their time doing research and learning more about the political arena. Even if their skills will never be used, she admires their dedication to their studies.

Coric, as would be expected from a medic, has been furthering his medical knowledge, while Kix – and Jesse – have been spending their free time in the garden. They've taken a liking to caring for the plants there, maybe because they've never had the chance to on Kamino. The last three clones, Droidbait, Hevy, and Cutup, have generally been trying out different hobbies including cooking. Frankly, Ahsoka doesn't think they're too bad at it, even if the thought of trained soldiers cooking is weird.

She can see Jesse in the garden if she leans forward, so she does, half-heartedly watching him move around. "Ahsoka, can I come in?" Obi-Wan calls from outside. They spoke once, when Ahsoka reported to him and Dooku the details of the mission. That was last night, and its late afternoon now. This was a conversation she was expecting.

"Yes," she replies flatly, straightening to look at him. He steps inside, eyes darting around the room before settling on her, the worry in them evident.

He seats himself at the other end of the couch she's in and regards her in silence for a long moment. "Talk to me, Ahsoka," he murmurs softly. "Tell me how you feel."

Anakin had told her to talk to Obi-Wan; she doesn't want to talk about it, but she knows that he's right. She exhales harshly, eyes flicking to the window again. "She was my friend," she begins quietly. "I shouldn't have betrayed her like that. I manipulated her with the intent of leading her to Anakin when I know what will happen to her."

"What would have happened if you hadn't?" Obi-Wan prompts.

"Anakin would have found another way," Ahsoka tells him. "He told me when we landed that I didn't have to help if I didn't want to, but I told them that I could do it. It was wrong, Obi-Wan." She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to ignore the guilt which is threatening to consume her. "Maybe I shouldn't have done it. I didn't think I had a choice anyways, because even if I didn't do it now, there will always be a later."

By the time she finishes, her voice is shaking, and she's struggling to hold back her tears. She loves Anakin dearly, but that doesn't make it any easier to betray another friend.

Obi-Wan reaches out, squeezing her shoulder. "It will always be hard," he answers, "But this is something we have to do. As Jedi, we must strive to work for the greater good." He pauses, giving her a meaningful look, and Ahsoka appreciates that he's not simply telling her to let it go. After all this time, he knows how useless that is, not when they're surrounded by Sith. They've been forced to change, to forge themselves a new path, but she doesn't regret it.

"I know," she whispers, "But how can we decide what the greater good is? Was it really good to let Barriss be captured, to let her suffer and break?"

Obi-Wan seems troubled, but the compassion on his face never fades. "The greater good is stopping Sidious and bringing peace to the galaxy," he assures her firmly. "We can only do that if we're here, and we can only do that if we save Anakin." She stares at him wordlessly until he continues speaking. "Anakin is troubled and misled, but he hasn't completely Fallen. He's suffered Force only knows what, but he's still capable of using the Light Side."

As Obi-Wan explains, Ahsoka finally begins to understand what he's saying. "If we help him, he won't completely Fall," she deduces, "And that means we're putting his well-being over that of others? Isn't that… one over many?"

The Jedi Knight wordlessly shakes his head. "If Anakin completely Falls, no one will be shown any mercy. He's so strong already, and Sidious will use him as a weapon. I have no doubt that he'll be able to take on dozens of Jedi and come out on top."

Ahsoka looks at him skeptically. "Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. "Is it?"

And Ahsoka realizes with a chill that she has no idea. She's seen him fight, but she's never once seen him at his best. She's never seen him unable to come out on top. And with what she does know about him, the question isn't what can he do, but what can he not do?

It hurts. It'll probably always hurt, but if she keeps sight of the end goal, of keeping Anakin with them so they don't lose him entirely, is what matters most. Of course, they could always take the coward's way and simply kill him – she imagines the Council would suggest that probably – but if he's not evil, killing him for what he could do is cruelty.

Obi-Wan is watching her, probably guaranteeing that she understands when someone else knocks on the door before opening it. Dooku steps into the room, somehow managing to look as though he's not intruding on a private conversation. Ahsoka can't find the energy to be annoyed at him, so she settles for a half-wave.

"I was hoping to see how you were doing," he informs her, "But it seems that Master Kenobi has already spoken to you."

"Just discussing priorities," Obi-Wan answers a bit dismissively.

"Oh?" Dooku raises an eyebrow, eyeing him curiously.

Obi-Wan glances at Ahsoka, as if uncertain if she'd care if he explains to Dooku. She doesn't. Not anymore. She knows that Dooku cares deeply for Anakin – and them, by extension – and he'll do whatever he must to keep Anakin safe. "I was explaining exactly why it's important for us to do things which might be against our morals if it means ensuring Anakin is safe," he explains.

Dooku's expression darkens slightly, and he nods. "I have… been apprehensive over what might happen should he fully Fall," he admits. "After you came, he changed a lot. You know how dark he can be, but he used to be like that all the time until you came."

Ahsoka nearly forgets how to breathe. What Dooku is saying is impossible from the Jedi's point of view. He's saying that Anakin's caring for them, and the attention and affection they've shown him, has slowly been drawing him away from the darkness which is eating at his soul.

"I had noticed that he seems more… balanced," Obi-Wan agrees, "But I wasn't sure if it was because of us or because he was here."

Dooku sighs, and there's a weariness in it which Ahsoka hadn't been expecting. "I've done what I can, but he views me as something more like a grandfather. It doesn't help that I'm the one who trained him to be a Sith. He cares for his mother too, but there's not much she can do. Senator Amidala doesn't even know, and Ventress does her best, but she's a very troubled young woman as well. She compliments Anakin in many ways, and they're much like siblings."

Though he keeps his tone neutral, Ahsoka can hear the underlying fondness he feels for both Anakin and Asajj. Interesting. "They get to be dark together, and they keep each other from slipping, but it's not enough to pull either back, is that what you're saying?" Ahsoka wonders, curious despite herself.

The Count inclines his head. "If we keep Anakin in the Light, we still have a chance against Sidious," he says finally. "If we lose him… may the Force have mercy on us and the galaxy." With those final words, he leaves the room.

Ahsoka exchanges a look with Obi-Wan, suddenly realizing for the first time how much of a burden is on their shoulders. Her guilt has finally receded as she understands just how high the stakes are. It will be hard, no doubt about that, but she will never shirk from her duty as one of the few who can actually protect the Chosen One from the darkness threatening to obliterate him. Obi-Wan gives her a small smile of encouragement, obviously sensing, and agreeing with, her sentiments. Together, they will succeed, no matter what she has to do to guarantee it.

**w**

Anakin stalks around Offee, much like a wild predator might tease its injured, helpless prey before moving in for the kill. The Jedi is hanging from the ceiling by a chain, wrists fastened above her head. She's glaring coldly at him, at least as best she can. Finally, he stops in front of her, arms crossed, a sardonic grin on his face. "Well, well," he croons cruelly. "It looks as though the little Jedi is trapped. You're stuck with me here. No one will find you on this planet. You're not important enough."

Offee clenches her jaw, but otherwise doesn't respond to his taunting. Chucking, Anakin resumes his leisurely walk around her, footsteps echoing off the dungeon walls. The Force dampening is irritating, but Offee is almost completely cut off from the Force; the chains are Force restraints as well.

"I can feel your anger, your guilt," Anakin continues speaking in a slow, measured tone. "You mourn for your master, do you not?" There's a flare of fury, which only makes him grin, the darkness drawing him in like an insect would go to light. He studies her, yellow eyes calculating. "She was pathetic," he states decisively. "She fell like a cowardly weaking. If she couldn't even stand up to me, how do you think you can?"

He swings around her, standing only two feet from her, searching her face for some traces of emotion. "You should let it go," he whispers mockingly. "You shouldn't be mourning for a dead woman who failed you. The Jedi have failed the galaxy, don't you see?"

"The Jedi protect the Republic from people like you," Offee hisses, blue eyes burning with anger. "You're a coward for picking out defenseless victims and slaughtering them."

The barb hits harder than he wants to admit, and he slaps her viciously with his mechanical hand, relishing the pain it causes. "Ignorant child," he spits. "You see, yet you refuse to understand the truth. Accepting it would be too painful for you. The so-called peacekeepers are lying. They are leading a war! What is heroic about that? You're far too old for blind hero worship."

Offee raises her chin defiantly, but stubbornly remains silent. Time for a new tactic. "I killed your master, you know," he states casually. "It was remarkably easy. You couldn't even save her, so what kind of Jedi does that make you?" He pauses, before giving a sigh of feigned sympathy. "The Jedi will never understand your pain. They'll never let you mourn. They won't let you express your anger, a totally natural emotion."

"And what's more," he continues in the same, gentle tone. "You don't even understand why it happened. You feel helpless, don't you, Barriss?" For the first time, he uses her first name. "You haven't yet comprehended the mockery which the galaxy is enduring. There is nothing you will be able to do if you persist in clinging to the outdated ideologies of the Jedi Order. Their sight is clouded. They are blinded by their own arrogance. They think themselves infallible, when, in reality, they've already fallen from their path. The Jedi are no longer bringing justice to the Republic. They serve the Senate, not the people."

He looks into her eyes and sees loathing there, directed at him and also, directed at herself. She's trying to ignore his words, but in the coming isolation, he knows she won't be able to stop thinking about what he said.

"It's so easy." His voice is soft, like a caress might be. "All you need to do is reach out and touch the power you have been denied. The Dark Side gives everything you could ever have wanted. I could never have found the truth had I rejected this part of the Force."

"Lies," she hisses. "The Dark Side only takes. It never gives. The price it would demand is far too high for me to accept."

"Do you not want justice?" he queries mildly, "Or do you genuinely believe that the Jedi should serve the politicians who have never seen the horrors of war? The Dark Side is the path to true power. The Force is one. You cannot have the light without the darkness. Why else do you think the Force is out of balance? The Jedi shun the Dark Side. They fear it. That very fear has blinded them, has made them susceptible to the alluring call of the dark."

He exhales slowly and continues his monologue. "There is a hidden beauty in the wildness of the dark, the soothing touch of its bitter coldness. It never lies. It can't lie. In the Dark Side lies all the truth we wish to ignore, the truth we would seek to twist for our own benefit. You are young. You know little of the mysteries of the Force. The darkness isn't cruel; it just is."

Anakin sidles closer, lowering his voice. "In the silence and darkness in this cell, you would do good to reflect on your life's choices, and on what you truly desire. Everything you have ever believed is a lie, young Offee. Remember your failings. You failed your master. You let her die. You didn't defend her. Remember your guilt and anger as you languish here. No one will come for you. You are completely alone."

With those words, he withdraws a syringe which he'd brought in here with him. It contains a powerful drug designed to cause acute pain in the victim. He doesn't hesitate, plunging the needle into her upper arm. Though she doesn't react visibly, he can feel her pain in the Force as he leaves the prison cell. His work is done for one day, but he has a lot to reflect on.

It will take time to break her, and patience has never been his forte, but he will succeed. He will prove to Sidious that he's useful, that he's worthy of being a Sith. Mind games have never been easy for him, even though his master thought him about their importance in breaking Jedi. Anakin listened to the lessons, absorbing everything. Only now has he been given the chance to test his knowledge. If nothing else, he can resort to torture. If Offee is alive, Sidious won't care what condition she's in when she finally breaks.

He comes back the next day, late in the evening. As before, he's alone. "I hope you have thought about what I've said," Anakin states calmly as the prison door closes behind him.

Offee only glares at him, keeping her mouth closed, and Anakin tuts quietly as he moves closer her on silent feet. "Why hold onto your anger until it destroys you?" he asks mildly. "You resist the inevitable. You resist when your only hope is to surrender. I'm not asking you to become a monster. I'm not asking you to slaughter a village of innocents. I'm only asking that you open your eyes to the true nature of the Force."

That's all true. He doesn't want to break her to make her into a monster. He's following orders, and he can't help but hope that she'll see the truth and join their silent resistance against Sidious. The Jedi are doomed; he knows that. It's far too late to save them. All he can do is resurrect something better from their ashes. It's time to destroy everything which has been built, Sith and Jedi alike, and rebuild.

"Speak to me, Barriss," he practically implores. "Tell me what you're thinking." He might want to lure her into his confidence, to use her words against her, but he also wants to help her, strange though that may be.

Her eyes narrow, and Anakin can almost see the gears turning in her mind. "What would you like me to say?" she demands scornfully. "Do you want to hear how much I detest you? Do you want to hear how much I resent Ahsoka for betraying me to you? Do you want to hear how certain I am that your sole purpose is to twist me to do your will?" She shakes her head violently. "No. I won't listen to you."

Anakin tilts his head and nods slowly. "I see," he murmurs. "You have these feelings, and you refuse to use them. You refuse to understand yourself, and that is your biggest failing. You won't admit to your weaknesses and desires. How can you choose to enslave yourself in this manner? If you want freedom, it is at your fingertips. Accept the Force as it truly is, one cosmic body with no boundary between Dark and Light, and you will break your chains."

Slowly, he withdraws the Sith mask and approaches her, pulling it down over her face before loosening the Force restraints. Anytime she reaches for the Force, all she'll find is the Dark Side. No Jedi has been able to resist this particular torture device. He'll return periodically, using words as weapons to tear her apart. If she doesn't break within two weeks, he'll have to up the torture. Part of him – an exceedingly small part of him – hopes that it doesn't go that far.