Chapter Eight

A Dark Path Beckons

Anakin's lips parted in a snarl that would've scared a Sand Panther, and he struck downwards with his blade. The blue bar of sizzling energy hummed as it raced down towards Ventress's skull.

Anakin! No!

A voice from the past, a voice that seemed to emanate from inside Anakin's very skull, stopped the young Jedi's swing. Instead of using his sabre to burn through Asajj Ventress's skull, Anakin shunted his blade far to the left, just avoiding maiming or killing the Rattaki Dark Jedi.

The voice of Qui-Gon Jinn had stayed Anakin's hand.

"Master Jinn?" whispered Anakin. Suddenly, the young Jedi was dizzy. He stumbled to the side, his hand loose on his blade. Qui-Gon had spoken to him from beyond the grave twice; once, begging hum futilely to stop as he slaughtered Tusken Raiders, and again on Praesitlyn when he'd been about to execute a Separatist General.

Anakin. The Force is too strong to be used for anything but good. Let go of your hate, and be wary of P—

But Anakin's rage had returned, full force, and Qui-Gon's voice had vanished instantly, like a scream being drowned out by rushing water.

Anakin's mind was once again focused on the task at hand. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, and refocused his vision, just in time to see Ventress throw herself at Anakin, her crimson sabre ignited and swinging towards Skywalker's chest.

Anakin brought his blade up, and ruby energy met sapphire energy in a hissing and sparking fight.

Anakin kicked out, his booted foot meeting Ventress's jaw, catching the Rattaki off balance as the Dark Jedi tried to recover from the fierce block. Ventress flew back from the power of the kick, just as the clones nearest the two combatants in the hangar brought up their blasters and fired.

Ventress flipped in mid-air, her sabre weaving through an impossibly fast series of twists and strikes to deflect every blue blast of energy that came her way. Seventeen clones dropped to the ground, killed or wounded by their own deflected fire.

"Hold your fire!" roared Anakin, "She's mine!"

The clones stopped firing instantly, and Anakin thrust forward his left hand. Instantly, Ventress's controlled fall became a chaotic, bullet-like acceleration; the Dark Jedi had been hit by Anakin's Force-push.

Ventress barely had time to curl into a protective ball before she hit a large ARC-170, smashing into the fighter-bomber's port hull. The hull dented under the force of the impact, and the ship skidded a few metres backwards on its landing skids. Ventress slumped to the ground, her eyes vacant. Anakin seized the opportunity, hurling his lightsaber at Ventress's fallen form; the sabre flew forward, its course straight and fast, the tip of the blade aiming for Ventress's right eye.

Anakin's sabre was almost at Ventress's face when there was a surge in the Force. Anakin's sabre flew just off target, burying itself in the wall of the hangar instead of burning Ventress's brain into ashes.

"Obi-Wan!" screamed Anakin, whirling, his eyes wide and panicky.

Obi-Wan stood in front of the hangar bays main turbolift, his face set in an expression of utmost disapproval. His lightsaber still hung on his belt, and Obi-Wan's hands were still curled loosely by his sides.

Kenobi wasn't looking for a fight.

Anakin turned away, his head swimming; if he murdered Asajj Ventress, with Obi-Wan standing, watching, the former slave knew he would be expelled from the Jedi Order.

But who did he love more; a load of old, deliberating monks, or Padmé?

So Anakin extended his mechanical hand, and smashed it into a fist so tight the mechanical servo-motors in the arm whined in protest.

Ventress was lifted slowly, almost gently, off of the hangar's metal floor. She slowly rose into an upright position, although her head lolled to the side and her arms were limp. Then, Ventress's immobile form shuddered.

And then her immobile form suddenly jerked her knees and arms shaking wildly, her head swinging madly from side to side, deep, haggard breaths coming from her lungs; she looked and sounded as if she was being electrocuted. The crack of snapping, breaking bones filled the suddenly silent hangar, as Anakin grinned evilly.

Anakin was crushing Ventress with the Force.

"No!" Obi-Wan's voice was a command, and Anakin faltered for a brief second, giving Ventress a relief from the pain…

Snap-hiss.

Obi-Wan raced forward, swinging his blade in a defensive arc, "Anakin! Let her go!"

"Never! She's mine," Anakin's words referred not to Ventress, but to Padmé. To allow Ventress to live was akin to killing Padmé himself.

Obi-Wan ran forward with the knowledge that he would never be able to kill Anakin. To do so would burn his heart to ash.

But he had a different plan.

Obi-Wan through himself into a leap, leaning back and aiming a two-footed kick at Anakin's mechanical arm; snapping Anakin's arm off would give Anakin an electric shock, not enough to kill him but enough to knock him out and free Ventress.

Anakin whirled around as Obi-Wan's leap reached its highest point, and faltered, staring up at his former master, tortured by sudden indecision.

In that second, Ventress struck like a cornered animal leaping at her hunter in a moment of distraction.

A pair of red sabres spat into existence, stabbing down towards Anakin's throat. But Anakin is once again the Jedi Warrior he usually was, and instead of feeling red hot blades slicing into his neck, he simply flopped backwards, and rolled away as Obi-Wan, reacting purely on instinct, ignited his blade and landed in front of Ventress.

The Dark Jedi attacked, blades weaving and dancing across Obi-Wan's sky blue patchwork of parries. Her anger was steadily returning, and her attacks quickened, but Obi-Wan merely fell back calmly, not retreating but simply redirecting the battle; it was his way. He'd done it many times.

The partnership between Anakin and Obi-Wan was suddenly rekindled.

Anakin leapt forward just as Obi-Wan mixed a touch of Ataru, the aggressive, acrobatic sabre style favoured by Yoda, into his extremely defensive Soresu. Obi-Wan leapt upwards, flipping over Ventress, binding the blade in her right hand with his own and pulling it out of line as Anakin raced forward, lightsaber angling for the kill.

Ventress twisted to the side, half-expecting Anakin to gut his former Master by mistake.

But, incredibly, Obi-Wan merely spun in mid-air so that Anakin passed harmlessly by; the Jedi Master was almost levitating!

Ventress realised, with a sinking feeling in her trio of stomachs, that Anakin and Obi-Wan had improved drastically since the last time they'd met.

She also got the impression that her chances of surviving this particular, unintentional encounter were starting to get very, very slim.

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, right now.

You are fighting with the man who's been like a father to you; you're keeping him alive and he's keeping you alive. You're surrounded by thousands of loyal clone troops, and a war that killed trillions has just ended. You're going home, to Coruscant, to celebrate the Jedi who've survived and mourn those who have died. You're fighting an opponent so effortlessly that you're not even truly fighting; you're just preparing to strike her down.

But none of that matters.

None of that matters because, right now, the opponent you're fighting is going to kill you're wife. You don't know why, you don't know when, and you don't know where. All you know is that she will kill your wife and her unborn baby. All you know is that she will kill the woman that you love more than anyone, that she will kill the woman you love so much that the fire of your love makes stars look dim.

All you know is that, if you're a second too slow, a second too late, a bit too weak, or a bit too uncertain, she'll die. And it'll be your fault. Completely. Totally. For Anakin Skywalker, everyone who's not threatening someone else must be saved. You must save everyone. Always. Most of all, your wife. And anyone who threatens her must die. End of. Asajj Ventress must die, here, and now, for Padmé to be safe. The Force has shown him the truth. He knows he must act. He knows he must act quickly and decisively. He knows that if he's just a second too late, like he was at the Tusken Camp, Padmé will die, and he will fail.

Which is why rage embraces you, which is why you embrace rage, and become swallowed in its dark arms.

Anakin swung his sabre in a vicious uppercut. Ventress blocked feebly and staggered under the weight of the blow, off-balance.

Anakin's rage smashed against his wall of restraint, cracking it ever so slightly, and Anakin's hand shot out.

Ventress was blasted off her unsteady feet and catapulted against an ARC-170 fighter. She smashed into the fighter, rending the metal. She slid forward, but stayed on her feet, blood trickling from a cut on her back.

She started forward unsteadily. Anakin raised his hand again, flicking his fingers forward dismissively. Ventress flew backward as though fired from a cannon and slammed into the ARC-170 so hard it flipped. Ventress dropped to her belly and tried to struggle to her feet. But, when she was just on her knees, Anakin tapped his forefinger against his thigh. Ventress was pushed to the floor, gasping and choking as though under a crushing weight.

Obi-Wan flipped forward, about to stop Anakin's rampage as the young Jedi snarled angrily, his lips parting in an angry sneer.

"No, Anakin!"

Anakin froze, panting heavily, the red mist that had descended over his vision slowing diluting. His lightsaber hummed and spat, hanging motionless in his right hand. His mechanical fingers tightened, as Anakin tensely considered his choices. His lightsaber handgrip squealed as the metal strained…

Anakin thumbed the activation plate, and the blade shut off with a swish. He stepped forward warily, his face stony in an attempt to hide his anger. He released his crushing grip on the Dark Jedi. Ventress looked up and closed her eyes, avoiding Anakin's imposing gaze.

"Shackle her! Now!" he barked, gesturing around and using the Force to let his voice carry into every section of the hangar bay. Eight clones raced forward and took up positions around Ventress, rifles trained on her kneeling form, whilst another two raced forward to shackle her hands and feet, whilst yet another one took her two lightsabers.

"We'll finish this later," Anakin roared, his booming voice echoing around the vast hangar, "I swear on the Force, you'll never be free again, Ventress! You're going to rot!"

"Anakin—" Obi-Wan was the picture of calmness as he grabbed Anakin's shoulder and projected soothing Force energies into the troubled Jedi, "—Don't worry. She won't escape us this time."

Anakin tensed, as if Obi-Wan had touched upon a raw nerve. The pensive Jedi Master wondered for a brief second what had his former Padawan so riled up, before leading the former slave towards the turbolift out of the hangar bay.

Anakin's body was rigid with tension, his jaw locked. Obi-Wan knew better than to ask what was wrong; Anakin would deny, deny, and deny. Even now his mouth was a grim, tight line, as if he was preparing to say 'Nothing's wrong' without meaning it.

Obi-Wan knew what would happen. He would go back to Coruscant…

Then deny, deny, and deny. He would cover for Anakin like he always had. Not because he wanted to betray the Jedi Order, not because he and Anakin were too good friends.

He did it because, if he exposed Anakin's rage, if he showed the Council, then his promise to Qui-Gon, his promise to train Anakin, to help him, to let him flourish into a great Jedi Knight, would be forfeit.

And, in Obi-Wan's mind, that would be the same as failing.