A/N: Credit to Elfpen, and my usual support team.
Seconds after Anakin's death
The Jedi Temple, much like the city planet it called home, was deceptive in its appearance. Coruscant was a radiant hub of power on the surface, bustling and endless. But beneath the shining veneer of durasteel, technology, and endless lights, there were thousands upon thousands of layers of civilization, places which saw little sunlight and remembered times long forgotten by those above. The Coruscant underworld was a thing of legend, and of nightmares. Few ventured there, and even fewer returned. A certain dead young boy could testify to that.
The surface dwellers had places to go, business to attend to, lives to run. None spared a thought for the millennia rotting beneath their feet. There would always be places of Coruscant that only a few people knew about or remembered. There would always be vast swaths of existence worn into secrecy by the slow and merciless vote of time.
The Jedi Temple was a parallel to its host planet in this respect. Only, without so much death and nightmares. Perhaps the comparison was a poor one, thought Aayla Secura as she pushed her custodian's cart along the vast, abandoned hall, levitating a small globe lamp to light the way. It was true that the Temple had hundreds of forgotten levels such as this one, most of which now lay in disrepair below the surface, but they were not hostile as the wilds of Coruscant's underbelly. No, the Jedi Temple, even in its darkest, neglected depths, was a harbour of safety and tranquillity.
It was beautiful down here, in its own way. Dark, yes, and cold in places. Devoid of life and furniture alike. But the Force was thick here, so thick she could taste it. Its flavour was rich and delicately seasoned, generations of Jedi wisdom pressing up against her like a smouldering hearthfire, the embers of light that kept the surface dwellers alive far above. It was a shame that they only used these levels for utilities, now. Electric generators, antigravity backup systems, repulsor regulators, and maintenance units were just some of the commodities that found a home here down below. Ever since her master had went out on another mission relating to the criminal underworld, it had been Aayla's duty to care for them, until the Jedi Knight in charge of the duty came back from her mission. It was a lonely, tedious job. But with the Force so strong here, she savoured the atmosphere like fine wine.
In such a vast and ancient underworld, Tala's exiled clan of technology lived in disparate pockets, webbed together by halls of old statues and monuments, sacred rooms of meditation and forgotten rituals. Tala had even seen books down here, on some occasions actual paper books. They were remnants of the archives' oldest collections, which Jocasta Nu allowed to remain down here in their ancestral homes, and no wonder. There was no one to disturb their fragility here in the dark. No one but the generators and regulators - and Aayla, of course.
However, by the will of the Force, her solitude was not to last. At thirteen hundred hours on the second day of the tenth month of the year 3623 after the treaty of Coruscant, the Force slammed through the foundations of the Temple and sent Tala to her knees.
She would learn later of the mass chaos that erupted above as thousands of Jedi sensed the upheaval. Students froze in their katas, Healers stopped their work, even the High Council faltered in their daily sessions. But after a few breathless heartbeats, the fissure in the Force closed up as quickly as it arrived, leaving Jedi everywhere to clutch at their focus and wonder, what in the galaxy was that?
Half a planet away
The reddish-brown Devanorian bounty hunter turned around with a start. For a moment, he thought that he had felt something strange, prickling on the edge of his consciousness. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that it had been horrible.
He could always feel things like this around him. Always had. He was extremely attuned to his surroundings, more so than normal Devanorians, which made him good at his job.
He narrowed his eyes. A bad feeling probably meant something bad was about to fail him. His intuition had never failed him. The question was what?
He scanned around his surroundings cautiously, spotting the Ubese growling suspiciously at all that passed by him, the old human leaning heavily on her walking stick, the tanned, dark Kiffar lounging at one side, eyeing him with undisguised malice.
But he did not feel any sense of danger when he looked at them.
Strange. He shrugged. He had to be wrong for once, but better safe than sorry.
He turned, and continued walking to his contact's apartment, the weird incident already nearly forgotten.
Galaxies away
The thing at the bottom of the pit stirred. He had felt something so faint he doubted that it was there. But it had to be. The familiar emotions, hate, anger, pain, loss, failure… For a moment, he … it had complete clarity. I must get revenge on Kenobi. It thought.
Kenobi.
KENOBI.
KENOBI. KENOBI. KENOBI. KENOBI. KENOOOOOOOBIIIII
And that moment was gone.
Back to coruscant
Chancellor Palpatine was expecting it, looking out for it. So when it happened, he knew he had been correct. And he knew what his apprentice would do.
If they switched places, he would have did it himself. That made both of them predictable, but often in favour of himself.
"Chancellor?" his assistant's thin, reedy voice screeched out.
"I'm coming soon."
An hour after Anakin's death
Darth Tyranus, knew that they knew him for what he was. No doubt at least Yoda and Windu among the fools of the council, perhaps even Ki-Adi-Mundi had detected him. He had concealed his presence well, of course, by the torrent of emotions Skywalker had released had shocked him.
Though the midi-chlorians were practically swirling around the boy, but he had not expected such a young child to exhibit powers about that of the average Jedi Master, albeit for only a second before he was silenced.
The boy needed work on his reflexes, but in time, he could have become powerful. Fifteen years of harsh Sith training and he could have rivalled Dooku himself in raw power. A shame, Dooku shook his head, as he walked past a Jedi Knight staring suspiciously at him.
It seemed that the fools had really vamped up security. Still, there was no way they were going to catch him unless one of those from the council was standing really close to him.
The Jedi Knight walked right pass Dooku, in the guise of a tall blue-skinned Twi'lek, to stop a bearded man in his tracks. Dooku snorted. The man had a grey beard, and while he matched Dooku's actual height, he was in no way a force sensitive.
Unless, he thought, unless they knew that he could hide his force signature. Only skilled knights and Jedi masters learned about the mere existence of that tactic. But he was careless. Yoda was his master, after all. He, of all people, would know. Even if they knew, there would be no way to guess. There were simply too many people on Coruscant for the Jedi to check one by one. And surely, they would think that he would be a lone man with nothing on him, no matter what his disguise would be.
He looked at the sack draped on his back. It aided in his disguise as a manual labourer, but there was a much more important part. Like how they cloned the clone troopers, perhaps he would soon have many of the "chosen ones" at his personal service. The challenging part would be to bend all of them to his will, but he had never liked things to be too easy.
3 weeks after Anakin's death…
Darth Tyranus looked at the boy, admiring his prize. Dead, but his DNA could certainly be re-used. Who knew what effects it would have? He allowed himself a rare smile. His master's plan had most certainly backfired on him.
The doors of his apartment flew open, pushed aside by the force. His master strode in, hooded, as always.
"Very well, I knew that you would do it, apprentice." His master said, with a trace of mirth in his voice.
"However, it is not the time now, is it?" Darth Sidious whispered silkily, to Darth Tyranus's discomfort. He knew that he was not yet strong enough to challenge the Sith, not with his comparable lack of knowledge of the dark side.
"You are dismissed." Darth Sidious said offhandedly, continuing to glance at Anakin's body a calculatingly. However, Darth Tyranus was not to be tricked.
He turned his back, and braced himself for pain to come.
As always, it was almost unbearable.
"Be warned," the high, cold voice behind him rang out, "I am a better Sith then you'll ever be."
Count Dooku stood up in humiliation. Not since when he was a padawan under Yoda had he had this mix of emotions. It was most belittling of a man perfectly of being a Jedi Master, and in a few more decades, perhaps even Grandmaster. But he had to bide his time.
Swallowing the bile in his throat, and keeping his tone neutral like Sidious would expect him to, he said "Yes, Master."
A year after Anakin's death
A note: Darth Sidious labelled the Juyo Form as the "Sith style", due to its intense focus on physical combat. Darth Maul used the form to great effectiveness because of his connection with the dark side.
Mace Windu watched Obi-wan Kenobi silently, watching as the younger Jedi's lightsabre flashed left and right, fluid and confident. Mace couldn't help but nod to himself.
The Jedi Knight's lightsabre skills, already decent previously, had attained an even higher level in the last year. He could now best some of the other Jedi Masters with decades more experience and practice, though he indeed had youth and vitality on his side.
Still, it was a remarkable improvement. Even he himself had not improved so much in the space of a year, especially when he was young and inexperienced.
Maybe soon Obi Wan might surpass him, Mace thought wryly.
Though, from another point of view, it might not have been that big a surprise. Ever since Anakin's death, Obi-Wan had barely spoken a single word to most of the Jedi in the temple. Even when he was sent on missions he had been mostly silent, but extremely effective. Sometimes, Mace wondered to himself, what had happened to that hot-headed young Jedi Knight that had been reckless, but charming in his own way. Why had this silent yet competent young man taken his place?
Though he knew he had no right to control Obi-wan's behavior, he still missed the careless but brave young knight.
Mace regretted Anakin's death. Of course, the death of the force's chosen one had a negative impact on the force as a whole, but on an entirely personal level. As Master Saesee Tinn had once said, the boy had made the temple a more interesting place to live in, and that was in his opinion, a gross understatement.
But above and beyond that, he was still most concerned about Kenobi himself. He and Qui-Gon had been friends, brothers even. He had respected the other, younger Jedi's strength in the force, skill with a lightsabre, and most importantly, his straightforward, caring personality, which Obi-Wan had to have appreciated the most, in what seemed to be like a lifetime ago.
Seeing Obi-Wan in this state, reduced to no more than a machine-like shell, made him worried and slightly guilty, though it was not like he would make it show. Which was another reason why he felt duty-bound to do what Obi-Wan wanted. Perhaps he would get to better know the younger Jedi through this. And there was almost no risk. Even now, Obi-wan was still like a beacon of shining light in the force, not any dimmer. He was still fiercely loyal to his friends and the Jedi order, though he had distanced himself from all the senior Jedi.
But yet... what if granting Obi-wan his request aggravated the situation further instead? He could not take the risk, especially considering Obi-wan had already lost two of the closest people to him. This made him extremely vulnerable indeed...
"Obi-Wan," he called, and the young knight ended his display with a sweeping strike. The young knight nodded, panting heavily. Mace said nothing, but he shook his head inwardly. Against appearances, the young knight did not have complete control of himself.
"I'm sorry, but I will not teach you Juyo nor permit anyone to. I don't think it is suitable, especially after what happened to master Bulq, who was more skilled in the various forms of the saber. "
Obi-Wan's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, "But Master Windu, I have been strong in the force, and I have mastered the Makashi form, along with Ataru and Soresu, and I…" Windu held up a hand, and Obi-Wan broke off. "Though you have indeed improved in Ataru and Soresu, you have not mastered them nearly as well as Makashi, especially considering the time you have spent in the latter. I think Makashi's offense and Soresu's defense are enough to handle both Jedi and long-ranged opponents." Obi-Wan started, but Mace stared coldly at him and the Knight wisely shut his mouth.
"Practice Makashi, you have, and practiced it well. Master Juyo, you shall not. Few have studied, one has fallen. Only one student, to mastery has risen." A familiar voice croaked out.
"Master Yoda!" Obi-wan exclaimed in surprise, turning around to see the open door to the room they had been practicing in. However, Mace did not seem to be surprised
"No." Mace shook his head firmly. "I understand that you are angry about Anakin's death. I know that you are angry because if you had greater skill with a lightsabre he might not have died. I know that you think that you need to get better, and that you want the Sith to pay, but that is," Mace paused "against the principle of the Jedi."
Obi-Wan's face crumpled, and Windu felt slightly guilty, but he did not let it show. He did not want Obi-Wan to risk falling to the dark side, not like Bulq, not like Dooku. But it only lasted for an instant, before the young knight composed himself again.
"I am sorry, Masters." he bowed. "I have regrettably let my emotions get the better of me," Obi wan intoned in a flat voice before sweeping up his lightsaber and striding off.
However, it seemed that Yoda was not going to let the matters rest. In the blink of an eye, the wizened Jedi Master had hurried to block Obi-wan's path, narrowing his eyes at the young Jedi. To Mace, Obi-wan looked very unnerved. Some things would never change.
And Yoda spoke, "Easy, it is, Obi-Wan, to make the wrong decisions, to take the wrong path. Alone, he is not. With others, it is. Guidance, is the key to prevent the fall. "
Obi-wan blinked and for a moment, Mace thought that he saw a hint of deep sorrow in his eyes. He was further convinced that he had made the correct choice. Juyo users did become exceptional swordsmen, but even the masters of the Form (including himself) acknowledged the possibility of emotion getting the best of them, leading to their fall to the dark side. It took a master of not only the form, but their own emotions, that could truly master Juyo. And from what he saw, though he tried to pretend else-wise, Obi-wan was far from ready.
"I understand, Master Yoda." Obi-wan nodded.
There was a long pause, where Obi-wan met Yoda eye to eye, to Mace's surprise.
At last, Yoda sighed "May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you, Master" Obi-wan murmured. Almost droid-like, he gave a stiff bow and walked off.
In his living quarters, Obi-wan collapsed on his chair. He allowed himself the luxury of burying his head in his hands for several long moments, breathing, trying to gain control of the large gaping pit that had opened up in his chest, until he felt like facing the world and it's responsibilities again.
A/N: Please leave reviews.
