Interlude Two
The Last Jedi
I am alone.
I do not know what power possessed me to return here – yet here I stand.
The bodies have been removed, but the stone walls still scream, echoing the cries of hundreds of lost Jedi.
My kin, my family, all gone.
Murdered by the boy I raised and trained.
The man I call my brother.
I watch a shaking hand that looks like mine touch a gouge in a carved pillar. The mark was made by a lightsaber. The blade swung sure, coldly calculating.
Empty of all emotion.
Like a machine.
The hand draws back as if scalded, and my feet carry me further into the ruins, the scent of smoke hanging heavy in the air.
"You owe me one. And not just for saving your skin for the tenth time."
You have betrayed us all, Anakin.
And now I think I know why.
I see it now in his stance, his anxiousness to return to Coruscant when we finally received a reprieve from assignments.
I saw it in her eyes, the desperate, fervent love that poured out of her.
In the gentle curve of her swollen belly.
I cannot believe that I was so blind to it. That I chose to be blind to it for his sake, for the sake of his happiness, however brief. Because she could give him what the Jedi and I could not.
"Master, I've disappointed you."
I disappointed myself.
Qui-Gon gave him into my care. The Council trusted me to train him, to rear him up steadfast and true in our ways so that he might fulfill the prophecy.
The Chosen One is a lie.
Anakin never really followed the ways of the Code. He constantly contradicted them, seeking new ways to undo ancient precepts and challenge tradition.
And he married the woman he loves.
I knew, of course. Even I am not ignorant of emotion. But I had hoped that he would be wise, and would look to his training for guidance through a web of intense, tangled emotions whose epicenter was a girl grown into a woman that had captured his heart since their first meeting. But he perceived himself as invincible. Maybe he is.
And my plan to find him has certainly failed.
If Padmé does know his whereabouts, she is not seeking him out.
I overheard her new orders for the Captain as the sun set, bringing an uneasy twilight and the haunting call of the Temple.
For the sakes of my fallen brethren I must carry out my duty.
For the sake of the galaxy.
"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"
I must…but I will destroy myself along with him.
Padmé is a friend, an old, very dear friend. And the child will not be safe with him.
He has turned into a monster.
Even if he is convinced he could never hurt her, hurt them, the hate will become too strong for him to control. It will sever all ties to humanity and burn everything to ashes.
I will not allow that to happen.
Contrary to what she may think, I care about her and the child.
She is the widow of my best friend.
Assurance is born from that statement in my heart, filling me with purpose.
Anakin, my Padawan, my friend, my brother…is dead.
Darth Vader is all that remains.
He will return eventually from whatever task his Master has given him, and seek solace in the arms of Anakin's wife.
Resentment clouds my vision, and I struggle to push it aside. I need clarity of mind if I am to succeed against a Sith.
I could tell when I spoke to her that she clings to the hope that he is still in there somewhere. That the smallest sliver of the man she loves is buried under all of that rage and darkness and death,
and she will find it and bring it to life.
Perhaps she can.
But I cannot afford to take that risk.
I stride for the Temple doors, pulling the cowl of my hood lower over my face.
It grieves me to use a friend in this manner, but if it will help me protect her and her baby then I am at peace. I will fulfill my sworn duty as a Jedi.
I will defeat the Sith.
I will kill my best friend.