A/N: So, what do you think so far?
Chapter Seven
A Contrast, and a Mirror.
Anakin strode forward, oblivious to the stares of the clones all around him. His lightsaber hummed and wavered, as if it was sniffing the oily air for prey. The only sound apart from the hum was the slight clang as the hangar doors slid shut.
This is Anakin Skywalker. Hero of the masses. Idol of the younglings. Protégé of Palpatine. Symbol of the Republic. The warrior. The lover. The pod racer. The pilot. The most loyal man in the galaxy
He is everything, yet he is nothing.
He is nothing, not because he's a lesser warrior than anyone else; his skills with a sabre are virtually unmatched. Not because he is weak; his Force powers are akin to Yoda's. Not because he is too calm; his rage consumes him constantly, like a tornado battering at a homestead.
He is nothing, because he is terrified.
He remembers the day that he stood in front of the Jedi Council, just a young slave boy, just nine years old. He remembers the freezing temperature of Coruscant, the smell of various aliens.
But most of all he remembers the stare of Yoda. The piercing stare that could see into Anakin's very soul, the stare that could see the tiny larvae of fear growing inside him.
The rage that was tipping the galaxy inexorably towards the dark side.
The fear in Anakin's stomach had once been like a larvae; small, wriggling, insignificant. But over the years, it had grown, until it had become a Rancor, a massive, roaring beast of pure terror that threatens to consume him with every second.
A Rancor that had fully matured in a camp full of Tusken Raiders. A Rancor that had fully matured as Anakin realised that he'd come too late to save his mother; that he'd been simply too slow, too indecisive, bending to the will of the Council rather than trusting his feelings.
That is what makes Anakin Skywalker nothing. The memory of weeping over his mother's broken body.
And the fear of coming too late to save his friends is what makes Anakin Skywalker everything. That permission, that animal need to use his rage, to turn it into a vicious metaphorical lightsaber that would destroy any foe, so that he would never be too late, so that he would never be too weak to save those that he loves.
So that he would never be too late to save Palpatine. So that he would never be too late to save Obi-Wan. So that he would never be too late to save Padmé.
So that he would never be too late to save his unborn child.
But, that fear is what makes him everything. The fear that spawned the rage had then been engulfed; the fury had created a nuclear shelter around the fear, locking away the fear.
But, at night, the shelter weakens. Sometimes it cracks. Sometimes the fear makes Anakin awake in a cold sweat, his hand reaching out to feel for Padmé's pulse, to cry out her name as he realises he's on the other side of the galaxy from her.
But, at that moment, Anakin is everything. He has to be.
Because, if he's not everything, if he's not all powerful, he might fail. He might lose Padmé. So he is everything. He has no other choice.
Of course, being all powerful is impossible. But, for Anakin Skywalker, the impossible has an eerie way of being merely difficult.
If Anakin is faced with something impossible, with a friend's life depending on the outcome, like the moment when the Invisible Hand had plunged towards Coruscant, Anakin decides to do the impossible thing anyway.
That is what makes Anakin Skywalker the so-called 'Hero With No Fear'. Because he has fear, he has rage, which nullifies the threat of his fear.
The Hero With No Fear stopped his slow advance five metres away from the battered shuttle's hatch. He reached into the Force, probing…
He found Asajj Ventress. He could clearly picture him in his mind's eye. Her large, white, bald head, with its strange tattoos and black, staring eyes… Her thin, but strong body, her mouth twisted in a leer, her hands curled around the curved handles of two crimson lightsabers…
But there was something different about Ventress in the Force, at that time. Anakin remembered her as a fiery, furious presence, filled with nothing but blind, animal hatred towards the Jedi.
But she was different at that moment.
She was a cold, detached presence. Anakin detected dread, and defeatism. Despair. Asajj Ventress obviously had no intention to fight; she would surrender, trusting to the Jedi's mercy.
Anakin mused over that for a split second. He mused over that single thought, then decided he didn't care.
The Force suddenly presented him with a vision.
Asajj Ventress was kneeling on the ground, panting, her shoulders arched, her body defeated. A stab wound occupied the space where her liver had once been. Anakin stood above her, emotionless, his eyes cold, detached. His sabre was humming, its sapphire blade hovering a centimetre away from Ventress's pale, offered neck. There was a tiny pause, and then the sabre passed through Ventress's neck so fast that the blade appeared to stretch.
Ventress's neck sizzled and glowed orange as it was flicked into the air, tumbling down onto the hangar's deck. It bounced a few times, and rolled away, before coming to stop against a white-robed… Body?
The white-robed body of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who lay, his cold, dead hands clutching the lightsaber wound that had chewed away his heart…
Anakin was jerked back to the present, his mind reeling, his mouth dry. Of course! Why hadn't he even considered it! Obi-Wan would try to intervene to stop Anakin as soon as the young Jedi attempted to kill the surrendering Ventress… It all made sense in a most horrific manner. Anakin's speeding mind somehow realised that he had to kill Ventress immediately, before Obi-Wan arrived. Anakin knew he couldn't kill his best friend, unless he was threatening Padmé.
Which, in a way, he might. If the vision came true, Obi-Wan would be threatening Padmé by trying to save Ventress… It all made a twisted sort of sense!
So Anakin stepped forward, just as Asajj Ventress emerged from the shuttle.
Ventress didn't step from the shuttle; she stumbled. Her body was even thinner than before; her features drawn, haunted and gaunt. Her lips were colourless, and her clothes mere rags.
But, on her belt, two curved lightsabers still hung in place.
Anakin snarled, his lips parting in a gesture of animal hate. He then stepped forward, raising his lightsaber up for the kill, staring down at his helpless victim, who hadn't even looked up…
Exactly two minutes before Anakin arrived on the hangar bay, Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing in the engine room, overseeing repairs, had sensed Anakin's raw anticipation. He'd also sensed Ventress, and got the misinformed but correct impression that Anakin was going to kill Ventress. Obi-Wan hazarded a guess why; Ventress had been personally responsible for the slaughter of many Jedi, thousands of clones, and billions of innocent civilians, both Separatist and Republic.
So Obi-Wan smiled calmly, serenely, and started walking briskly towards the turbolift.
This is Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He is selfless, courageous, gracious, modest, humble, polite, cheery, and the best friend Anakin Skywalker could hope for.
Obi-Wan Kenobi is the sum of all contrasts. The brilliant warrior who'd prefer to talk situations out. The awe-inspiring pilot who hates flying. The incredible negotiator, who, frankly, would rather sit, alone, on an uninhabited planet and meditate on his own. He is the only Jedi in the Order who could possibly fight a Sith Lord without calling upon even a hint of anger, the only Jedi who's never even considered the Dark Side's powers as seductive.
In short, he is a Jedi extraordinaire. He is the best at everything a Jedi should be. His powers are overshadowed only by Anakin's and Yoda's. Yet he never uses them for anything other than the greater good. He can immerse himself so completely in the Force that he becomes the Force entirely; his body, the thing that calls himself Obi-Wan Kenobi, is nothing but a collection of molecules, of atoms, that form loosely together to create a human. When he speaks, sometimes he's not speaking; sometimes it is the very Will of the Force. When he engages in combat, he does so reluctantly, but without hesitation. He puts himself in the Eye of the Storm that is the anger that engulfs all conflict, releasing his passion, his emotions, and becomes a pure being in the metaphorical sense. He becomes an angel, in certain ways.
He regrets that he is usually, in the war, the Angel of Death.
He knows that, should he die, whether at the hands of a blaster bolt, a lightsaber, an electrostaff, a fall, or some other exotic weapon or natural occurrence, he will transform into the Force.
That is what makes him a Jedi.
But he's more than the perfect Jedi.
He is Anakin Skywalker's best friend.
Obi-Wan Kenobi is the type of man that could be everyone's friend. He has no bad qualities. The only thing that stops him from being loved by the whole galaxy is his ideals. The fact that he's personally hewn down millions of battle droids earns him the permanent resentment of every Separatist Loyalist in the galaxy.
But Obi-Wan doesn't care. Because to him, every life is valuable. And every life he takes, is only with a deep, bitter regret. This is why he goes to the help of Asajj Ventress, a war criminal, an evil, corrupted soul, with no hesitation.
Because he's a Jedi. That is what he does.
Anakin stood above Ventress, and was about to slash downwards, to end Ventress's twisted, corrupt life, when he stopped. Yet another vision flashed through his mind.
Anakin, duelling Obi-Wan on Naboo. Anakin, killing four Jedi alongside Durge. Anakin, bowing to Dooku. Anakin, slaughtering Padawans on Jabiim. Anakin, killing. Anakin, killing. Anakin, killing…
Anakin faltered, confusion flashing across his face. He'd seen himself, in that vision, doing many things that Ventress had done.
And then he realised the purpose of that vision.
In slaughtering his helpless, surrendering opponent, he would become just a mirror image of Ventress.
"Get up," barked Anakin. His voice was harsh; his rage hadn't faded at all, but his method for dealing with Ventress had.
Ventress looked up for the first time; her formerly cold eyes were streaked with tears. She looked startled, but obeyed.
Once she got to her feet, Anakin reached out with his free hand, and plucked one of Ventress's sabres from the Dark Jedi's belt. Then, he pressed the sabre's cold, metal handle into Ventress's right hand.
"I'm going to kill you now," hissed Anakin… He'd done enough. He'd given Ventress a weapon, something to defend herself with.
The rest, was entirely up to Ventress…