Chapter Two
No Sacrifice Too Great
It would have been an understatement of the worst kind, to say she was nervous. She was, in fact, nearly out of her mind with terror. Lisseth Warda Solo was never an outspoken woman. . .never even a brave woman. She had not even a tenth of the courage or strength of her mother-in-law. In fact, aside from the last moments of her life, the bravest thing Lisseth ever did was to go on living after her husband betrayed and abandoned her and their two children. Otherwise, she was a coward.
But. . .this was her children they were discussing! Her children, for whom there was truly no sacrifice too great for her to make. She was willing to die for them. . .and she was just as willing to kill for them. Thane and Merit were, without a doubt, her two greatest accomplishments. She really didn't give a Hutt's behind why Anakin Skywalker wanted to help them. . .what mattered was that he did! (And, in truth, she did know. . .the boy was still atoning for what he did to his children. And yes, she knew he was actually several decades older than she was, but the true self he had chosen was that of the twenty-two year old General before his Fall. Ergo, he was a boy)
By the same token, she couldn't comprehend why Qui-Gon Jinn hated the idea of helping them. . .or rather, resisted the idea so strongly. Supposedly, Jedi didn't hate (although they might make an exception for Palpatine). The point was, her children were Jedi. . . indeed, they were among the only Jedi remaining in the galaxy. They found ways of helping people, usually with the assistance those who kept their secret and protected them from Jacen's squads. Unlike their situational predecessors, Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi, there was no 'new hope' for them. There was no Luke or Leia to protect. . .they were it. There was nothing more.
She wished, briefly, that her mother-in-law was here. Leia always knew what to say. Except at the end, in those last few minutes before Jacen's troopers took her life. Besides, right now, Leia was with Han and Obi-Wan, watching over the children. Her babies. Lisseth took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She had to do this. For her children, for the little ones she failed so terribly. When she opened her eyes, she found someone staring at her. . .Anakin Skywalker. He smiled at her gently, and she found the strength she needed in that smile.
Honored Jedi. . .by all rights, I shouldn't be here. I was never a Jedi. . .I was the wife of a Jedi, for a time, and I gave birth to two Jedi. But I was not a Jedi, and I am not even Force-sensitive. However, the woman who received that Force-vision that, if you will excuse the term, left everyone here breathless, is my daughter, my youngest child. For nearly twenty years, Merit has been haunted by my murder, and the murders of her grandparents. A terrible burden for any child to bear, I think you will agree, much less a granddaughter of Han and Leia Solo. Just a few moments ago, she received a Vision of a way to fix the present and the past, perhaps even the future. My Merit is a fiercely determined woman. . .now that she knows it's possible to prevent the pain and the horror of the last century, she will do whatever it takes to make it happen, Lisseth began.
She paused, looked at Anakin again, and received another encouraging smile. Lisseth went on, Let me state this: my daughter, and by extension, my son, will do whatever they must, to fulfill the will of the Force. I do not know the will of the Force. As I said, I am not a Jedi. But my daughter is. My son is. With your help or without it, my children will do this thing. But with your assistance, it will be much easier. They will do it not because it is their wills, but because they serve the Force. As my daughter is wont to say, I serve the Force. . .it does not serve me.
Much to Lisseth's relief, this last statement drew smiles from nearly all of the Jedi gathered. Good. That made things much better. But she wasn't quite finished yet.
Lisseth told the gathered Jedi, One last thing. I have told you that my daughter considers herself a servant of the Force. The last time I heard her say, I will do what I want, she was five years old. Do you know why, honored Jedi? Because my daughter is a woman. . .not a child. She understands this is not about her. . . but about protecting those who cannot protect themselves. She is Jedi. If this venture succeeds, there is a strong possibility that all four will no longer exist. They knew that. None of them are stupid. But to them, it is worth the sacrifice.
She supposed there was more she could have said. She could have told them about her daughter and son when they were children. She could have pointed to the things they accomplished, even in hiding, ever since Luke and Ben joined the Force. But in the end, she thought it best to remind the Jedi of one thing: they were servants of the Force, just as her children were. Even if the Jedi in the afterlife chose not to assist their descendents, Thane, Merit, Aidan, and that darling little girl would still willingly sacrifice themselves to avert as much of the catastrophe that was this present. As Jedi, they owed it to the children, and to themselves, to assist them.
Keeping that in mind, Lisseth bowed from her waist, as she had seen her Jedi relatives do so many times, and said, The choice is yours, honored Jedi. You can get your hands dirty, assisting my children. . .or sit here, with your hands and your consciences clean, serene in the knowledge that this is not your fight. Your choice. Your decision. Your honor. Your damnation. With those words, she inclined her head and stepped back behind Yoda. She wasn't entirely sure what caused her to make those last few statements, but she wasn't sorry she made them. She was fighting for her children, and though she knew herself to be a coward, she was willing to fight dirty.
Once more, she sensed eyes on her. . .once more, she followed the source of the sensation. . .only this time, she found Anakin Skywalker beaming proudly. Lisseth smiled back shyly, starting a little when she heard his voice inside her mind, Great job, Lisseth. I think you may have carried the day for us! She hoped he was right, though she knew that to save the future, Thane and Merit could die. It was likely and even probable. If they succeeded, her children might cease to exist. But if they failed, if they didn't even try. . .then the galaxy would cease to exist. And as Jedi, so far as Merit and Thane were concerned, there was no choice to be made. As a mother, as Thane and Merit's mother, she could only support them both. . .no matter how much it broke her heart.
SWSWSWSWSWSW
In the end, his father was right. . .the words of Lisseth Warda Solo swayed most of the uncertain Jedi to assist the mortal Jedi. It must have awed them, Luke Skywalker thought, that this ordinary woman was willing to sacrifice her children to bring light back into the galaxy. Such a sacrifice to make! It must have torn her apart. . .Luke couldn't imagine sacrificing Ben, not even to bring light back to the galaxy. In some ways, Lisseth's words on behalf of her children far outweighed whatever part Luke had in bringing his father back to the light. What did Luke sacrifice? A hand? It seemed like a truly small sacrifice, compared to one's children.
He knew that his niece by marriage believed she was a coward. . .he also knew that she was wrong. In some ways, Lisseth reminded him a great deal of his grandmother, Shmi Skywalker. . .or Aunt Beru. Lisseth would have protested such comparisons, but he felt sure his grandmother would have been pleased. He often had the chance to speak with her, here in the Force, and he had come to adore her. She was one of the few people to whom his father would listen. . .and she was also the first person to whom his father would go when he was worried about his descendents.
From his grandmother, Luke learned about the many different kinds of courage. He thought he knew about them all: from his sister, from his brother-in-law, from his wife, from his aunt and uncle, from his two Jedi teachers, from his parents. He was wrong. There was a whole new kind of courage, which he found in his niece-by-marriage and in his grandmother. Of all the people within the Force, Luke knew the person who would understand what Lisseth was experiencing was Shmi.
After it was established that yes, they would help the mortal Jedi (how could they do aught else, if they wanted to call themselves 'Jedi,' as Kit Fisto put it), the debate next turned to the next question. Namely, who among them would contact the mortal Jedi?
Not surprisingly (although the suggestion made Asajj roll her eyes), Master Jinn was of the opinion that Luke's father should contact his descendents. Much to Luke's amusement, Father had followed Asajj's example and rolled his eyes, pointing out that if he should contact anyone, it would be Thane or perhaps young Ami Kenobi. Merit inherited more than just her grandmother's name after all. . .an observation that made more than one Council member laugh.
It was, in fact, Asajj who suggested that Luke speak to his grandniece, a suggestion that Anakin Skywalker quickly backed. Something that surprised Luke, but even Anakin could see she was right. Leia was never a Jedi, so she was not among those who would speak to the children. To appease Qui-Gon Jinn, it was decided that Yan Dooku would accompany Luke when he spoke to Merit. Yoda and Mace Windu thought it best for Anakin to talk to Thane Solo. Master Jinn thought he should talk to the Kenobi father and daughter, but was quickly overruled by the unlikely tag team of Asajj and Siri Tachi.
It was then that Luke learned his former teacher's other reason for staying out of the Council. He planned to spend this time, reaching his grandson and great-granddaughter, with assistance from Leia, Ben, Anakin Solo, and possibly Jaina. Luke's father stared at the two in astonishment, then burst out laughing. Around his giggles, the gathered Jedi could only make out, can still surprise me. Apparently, Obi-Wan either never doubted that the Council would make the right decision or chose to do this on his own. According to Anakin, once he stopped laughing, it could go either way with his Master.
So, less than a mortal hour after Merit was struck with the Force-Visions, Luke Skywalker and Yan Dooku placed themselves in the mortal world. When Luke was a young man, the old Jedi he knew as Ben Kenobi would come when he asked it of him. This time, they would not wait for Merit to call upon them. (Besides, now that he was a Force-spirit himself, Luke realized just how disrespectful it was to do such a thing). Yan observed quietly, She chose to meditate anyway. Luke nodded. There were times when Merit found it impossible to simply rest, and try to calm down by meditating instead. This was likely one of those times, given what she had seen.
He watched in silence as she ended her meditations and rose slowly to her feet. The meditations hadn't helped that much, for she rubbed her temples wearily. She looked so tired. But that was the norm, ever since the beginning of the Second Jedi Purges. Even with all the changes made, all the precautions taken, the Jedi and the New Republic fell a second time. And those who helped to create that New Republic paid with their lives, as did a few innocent bystanders.
Your mother knew what she was doing when she named you for my sister, he said. She paused from stripping down to her undergarments long enough to roll her eyes at him. She did not, however, look surprised, though she cast a curious glance at Yan. The older man remained silent while Luke spoke with the girl he helped to raise. He smiled and said, It's true. You're so much like her. She is so proud of you. I know I am. Merit sighed and sat on her bed, rubbing the back of her neck. She wouldn't make this easy on him. That really wasn't a surprise to Luke.
For a moment, he imagined what she would look like, in the Jedi robes of old. Would she choose white and beige, as Obi-Wan Kenobi did? Or earth-tones of brown, like Qui-Gon Jinn? Or. . .or perhaps black, as her great-grandfather did? Unlikely. Merit had more or less the same view of her great-grandfather as she did of her own father. While Jacen himself had not killed her mother and grandparents, Merit had never forgotten the last day of Lisseth, Leia and Han's lives. And like both her grandmother and great-grandfather, Merit never found it easy to forgive. . .a truth that made life in the Force very interesting for Luke on occasion.
"Death has dimmed your eyes, Uncle Luke, I look nothing like Gran, and you know it," Merit replied, drawing a glare from Luke. She knew perfectly well that there was far more to resemblance than simple physical features! On the other hand, it would be just like Merit to play dumb with him. She was contrary in that way. Merit continued, "I'm guessing you're here to talk about the Force-vision I had while I was in the simulator. Speaking of which, I still don't think it'll do much good, but why not. It certainly can't harm anything, either. Aside from one of us, maybe. Good day, sir." This was said to Yan, who bowed to the girl, smiling faintly.
Greetings, child. I am Master Yan Dooku, grandmaster of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and great-grandmaster of Anakin Skywalker. I suppose that makes you my great-great-great granddaughter, in a manner of speaking. Or, as my grandpadawan is fond of saying, from a certain point of view, the elder replied. The corner of Merit's mouth quirked, and Luke had the uneasy feeling that these two would be fierce enemies or very fast friends. He wasn't certain which would be more dangerous. It was time to get this conversation back on track. . .before he learned the answer to that the hard way.
That is precisely why I'm here, myself and Master Dooku. You know, of course, that according to legend, your great-grandfather was the Chosen One. The being who would return balance to the Force, the Force-ghost observed. Merit nodded, making no reply. Her expression was neutral, never a good sign. Luke continued, ignoring the coughing Jedi beside him, Unfortunately, even after Palpatine's destruction, the balance was still missing. More to the point, the Force was out of balance for too long. And then. . .the Second Jedi Purges began. Again, the girl nodded, her face grim with a combination of anger, grief, and guilt. She knew all of this. The murder of her mother and grandparents was the first blast fired in the Second Jedi Purges.
"Uncle Luke, please. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I'd really like it if you came to the point. Why did I see those things? Why would I tell Thane that the past is the way to put the present and the future to rights, especially since we have no way of correcting the past?" Merit asked softly, rubbing her hand over her eyes. Ahh. Interesting. The Force showed her the past and let her see that they could change the past, but did not tell her how to do that. Now things became more clear. The Force had wanted the Jedi within its embrace to help the mortal Jedi. Luke and Yan exchanged a glance, and then Yan inclined his head. Merit was Luke's grandniece, he would allow the Skywalker heir to handle this. Luke knelt in front of the girl, wishing he could take her hands.
Because there is such a way to set things to rights, my dearest Merit, he replied. That was something else that came out of the Council meeting, after the debates were finished and the vote was taken. Ah, now he had her undivided attention! Ben always used to wonder if that was a good thing, having Merit's undivided attention. His grandniece canted her head, eyeing him suspiciously. Luke chuckled, adding, And right now, you remind me of your grandfather. Looking at me with such suspicion, wondering what sort of trouble, exactly, I would get him into this time. He (and Merit) ignored Yan's muttered, the same kind of trouble he could create for himself.
She ran her fingers through her hair distractedly, murmuring, "You know there's a price to be paid for time travel, don't you, Uncle Luke? I mean. . .you change something in the past, you run the risk of making the present, the future, worse. Granted, I don't see how this can possibly get much worse, but that's always a possibility." Now, how did he know she would say that? Perhaps because she was very much Leia Organa Skywalker Solo's granddaughter, and she inherited more from her grandmother than just her dark hair and dark eyes. Oh yes, and a healthy dose of her grandfather's pessimism. On the other hand, she wanted to be convinced. She wanted to do this, but couldn't see how.
This, then, was why Yoda and Mace wanted him to be the one to speak with Merit. Her natural caution was starting to take over. The hope which led her to tell her brother that the way to fix the present and the future was to travel to the past. . .that was lost. Luke had many reasons to be angry with Jacen Solo. . .his wife's murder, the loss of Han and Leia, Ben, Jaina, Luke himself. But the greatest of Jacen's crimes was against his three children. Even if Luke could forgive him for the other atrocities, he knew he could never forgive Jacen for what he had done to Allana, Thane, and Merit. Never. Not like a Jedi, true, but Luke was a man before he was a Jedi.
Twenty years of hiding, of living in the shadows, made Merit cautious. . .and taught her to fight dirty. She kept fighting, because there was nothing else to do, but she had no hope left. She knew she could change the present by changing the past, but she didn't know how. She could not rest, meditation provided no relief or guidance. She was angry, frightened, and felt helpless. That was a bad combination in a Skywalker. . .but she wasn't giving up. Still, Luke wished briefly for Leia's presence. His sister would know how to point her granddaughter in the direction she needed to go, even if it meant ordering her to do it. That was not an option open to Luke. That was when Yan made a suggestion. . .a very good suggestion, reminding him that Merit was also Han's granddaughter. Which prompted his next statement.
I'd say that the payoff is worth the risk. Merit, I know I'm asking a great deal. I know that by changing the past, you and your brother might not exist. Sithspit, I might not even exist! But think of the possibilities. The Force itself sent you that vision, Merit, and there's a reason for it. Everything happens for a reason, nothing is a coincidence, much less when you're a Jedi. And you're one of the last, Merit. I'm afraid that if you four don't do this, there won't be any Jedi left. . .the New Republic has fallen and a new Empire has taken its place. With your father at its head, Luke replied.
His grandniece really didn't need that reminder. Even as the words came out, he cursed himself when she flinched. Merit said softly, her voice nearly too soft to be heard, even by two Force-spirits, "Odd, isn't it? How history repeats itself. Darth Vader, or Anakin Skywalker, if you wish. . .tortured his own daughter and cut off the hand of his son. Now, Anakin's grandson is pursuing his own children across the galaxy. . .quite willing to do the exact same thing. Oh, wait, that's right. . .he's already done the same thing. He did that when he killed Allana for standing between us."
She rose to her feet once, more pacing back and forth in front of Luke and Yan. The irony hadn't escaped Luke, either. He thought, as he burned his father's suit on Endor, that it was over. If someone told him that night, as he smiled at the images of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Anakin Skywalker, that his twin's first-born son would follow in his grandfather's footsteps, Luke would have never believed them. Merit continued softly, "In a way, we're getting an answer to that old question. If knowing about you and Gran could have saved Anakin Skywalker." She raised her eyes to look at him, smiling sadly, adding, "The answer is 'no,' it would seem."
Your father is not mine, Merit. And despite what you think, Jacen does still love you, Luke said quietly. Not surprisingly, his grandniece snorted in disgust and sat on her bed, running her fingers through her hair. The blue-ghost Jedi continued, Even on Mustafar, during their final battle, Obi-Wan Kenobi still loved my father. Just as my father still loved him. Now Merit's head reared up, her dark eyes burning with fury.
"Loved him? Loved him? Oh, please, Uncle Luke! Yes, yes. . .you told me all about how your father saved you from the Emperor, killing himself and Palpatine at the same time. Wonderful. Good for him! Anakin Skywalker finally grows up and behaves like a father. . .after torturing his daughter, maiming his son, killing his older brother/mentor, murdering his own wife, and too many other crimes to note! Oh, and let's not forget the murder of the younglings!" she snapped angrily.
Luke didn't answer. This subject remained a sore one for his grandniece. He was just a baby when his mother died. . .but Merit was six years old when her mother was cut down. Luke knew he could have told her that Lisseth sacrificed her life to save her children. . . but he would be telling her what she already knew. At which point, he really would lose her attention. As if to drive this point home, Merit sighed heavily, rubbing the back of her neck, "Just come to the point? Please?"
There is a way for you and your brother, along with Aidan and Amidala, to go back in time. The Force. . .it is the will of the Force that you change things. Things were never meant to go as far as they did. None of this was supposed to happen, Luke answered. Merit's expression didn't change. Of course not. She wasn't just Thane's younger sister, but his padawan as well. And his grandnephew would want to know far more than Luke was telling him right now. Such as the 'how.' Luke continued, Do you remember my stories about the cave on Dagobah?
Cautiously, she nodded and Luke continued, What I didn't know then, and have since learned, is that the cave is not only a reflection, but a portal, a gateway. Just as it shows you what you are, what you can be. . .it can also take you places. Literally. It can take you into the past. The only thing you have to decide, my dearest niece, is where and when you want to go.
"Just to clarify, Uncle Luke. . .this is possible. Thane and I could go back in time and fix things. . .so that Anakin Skywalker never falls to the Dark Side? Am I correct in that?" Merit asked slowly. Luke nodded, sensing that he was on the verge of winning her over. She wanted to be convinced, and that was a large part of the battle. She wanted to travel back in time and put things to rights, but didn't know how. Merit was silent for several moments, then glanced at the still-silent Yan, and asked, "And what, exactly, is your part in this, Master Dooku?"
Luke expected him to say any number of things, including a mild jest about the impetuous nature of the Skywalker clan (especially the male members). Instead, Yan replied with a sad smile, Redemption, my dear child. I seek redemption. Merit's brows shot straight up into her hairline, and she folded her arms over her chest, nodding to the elder Jedi to continue. He did so, observing, There were a great number of people whom I hurt deeply during the first timeline. So many times, when I see what I helped to create, I have longed to go back and do things over again. This is my greatest chance to redeem myself for the crimes I committed.
"You were a Sith," Merit stated. Yan dipped his head in acknowledgment, and Luke's niece observed, "You said earlier that you were Obi-Wan Kenobi's grandmaster. I don't know that much about the Old Republic or the Jedi of that time. There was so much history wiped out by Palpatine and Darth Vader. How did you factor into this?" Luke started to tell his niece that it wasn't important, but Merit was focused solely on Yan as she continued, "Something happened, there was a reason why you left the Jedi. The gray-haired man in my Vision, the one the young man was holding. . ."
That was my former padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn, and master to Obi-Wan Kenobi. The intended master for Anakin Skywalker, or so everyone thought, Yan replied. Luke didn't think it was possible, but Merit's eyes widened further. Yan smiled slightly, adding, Oh yes, I forgot that my grandpadawan allowed Luke to think something that wasn't entirely true. You see, child. . .my padawan extracted a promise from his own padawan as he lay dying, to train the nine year old Anakin Skywalker. Yoda opposed the boy's training. . . and, in truth, Obi-Wan wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea.
"Truth from a certain point of view," Merit whispered. She looked at the two Force-spirits, observing, "He blamed himself for Anakin's Fall, just like my grandparents blamed themselves for my father's sins. But he took all of the blame on himself. Was that untrue as well?" This time, Yan lost no time in nodding. Luke was well aware of the old Jedi's apathy toward Luke's father. . .but Yan's reaction surprised even him. Merit asked, "You know because you were there?"
I was the first casualty for Darth Vader, though he did not know it at the time, Yan replied. Merit's lips rounded into an 'o' of astonishment. Yan smiled at her gently, adding, I know we ask a great deal of you, child. And it is patently unfair, being asked to correct the mistakes of other people, to put things to rights when you had no hand in them. But you, your brother, and my grandpadawan's children are our best hope. . .our only real hope. Will you do this thing, though it may well mean your death?
Merit's shoulders straightened and she proudly informed Yan, "I am a Jedi Knight. I will do what I must." Luke reflected a bit wryly that his grandniece's words were a combination of his own statement to Palpatine decades earlier and Obi-Wan's own words to Ana. . .no. No, his words to Darth Vader, on Mustafar, as Luke's father admitted that Anakin had given way to Darth Vader at that point. Somehow, he didn't think his grandniece would mind either comparison, though he was a bit miffed that a total stranger had better success in reaching Merit than he did. It didn't matter, not really. The girl looked from one Force-ghost to the other and asked, "Where do we start?"
SWSWSWSWSWSWSW
While Luke Skywalker and Yan Dooku were discussing their next move with Merit Solo, Anakin Skywalker was on a solo mission to speak with his great-grandson. His former Master, quietly pleased with the Council's decision, offered to go with him. . .but Anakin wanted to do this on his own. His Master spent nineteen years, watching over his son on Tatooine. This was Anakin's responsibility. . .and he was utterly determined to do it right. Leia was the next to offer her assistance. Anakin wasn't certain if his princess wanted to help him, or if she simply didn't trust him with her beloved grandson.
He declined her offer as well, telling her that this was part of his atonement. She pursed her lips, momentarily reminding him of his mother, then said quietly, Just be sure that you don't carry atonement too far, Father. He simply smiled, touched her cheek with his fingertips, and then materialized in the abandoned Imperial outpost that his great-grandchildren and the Kenobi family had been using as a base for the last six months.
Kenobi family. Huh. Even now, it was strange for him to think of Aidan and Amidala in that way. It pained him, seeing his former master's shame at being unable to remember the night that resulted in Rilla's existence. As far as Anakin (and Padme) were concerned, there was no reason in the world for Obi-Wan (or his daughter Rilla) to be ashamed. Aidan's grandmother, however, was another story. If Anakin was still a Sith, he might have visited the woman and taught her the error of her ways. Of course, if he was still a Sith, he wouldn't have cared about a Tatooine whore taking advantage of a desperately ill, heartbroken man. . .especially not when his name was Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Fortunately for all concerned (especially Aidan), Rilla was very much her father's daughter. Now in the Force, Rilla had her own way of watching over Aidan and her granddaughter. Anakin had few chances to talk to her, but he liked her very much, and it always amused him when Rilla chided her son for not 'exploring his feelings for that lovely girl Merit.' Like Anakin, Rilla could see that Aidan was as attracted to Merit as she was to him. But if Rilla was her father's daughter, then Aidan was his grandfather's grandson. Anakin rolled his eyes. There was a very good reason why he referred to his former Master as 'beloved' and 'dense.' Because Force take it all, he was!
Anakin shook his head, drawing his mind away from his occasional bickering with his former Master, and refocused his mind on the current mission. Anakin rather liked the idea of sending his great-grandchildren into the past. First, it was obvious to him (and to many other Jedi), that there was no future in this galaxy. The children were running out of time. . .running out of places to hide. . .running out of allies. They would fare better in the galaxy of old, the one in which he grew up. . .and so would it. Which brought him to his real reason for approaching Thane.
His great-grandson finished his conversation with Aidan, who agreed that the simulator would wait until the morning. Anakin knew exactly what was wrong with the kriffin' thing, and he'd tell his great-grandson. . .after they finished the far more important conversation regarding the issue of traveling through time. Anakin waited until Thane was safely back in his room before saying conversationally, You know, this place kinda reminds me of some of the barracks Master and I slept in during the Clone Wars.
He had to give Thane credit. . .the young Master didn't show any sign of surprise, though Anakin felt him release his shock into the Force. Instead, Thane turned to face him and observed coolly, "Anakin Skywalker. It's been a long time since I saw you. . .what's it been, nearly twenty years? That sounds about right. . .I was thirteen or so. Am I to assume this has something to do with my baby sister's Visions?" He folded his arms over his chest, his bright blue eyes focused on Anakin.
I'm sorry I didn't come before. I know you needed me when. . .after Leia, Han, and Lisseth joined us in the Force, Anakin said contritely. The horror of seeing his daughter murdered by her own son's troops was still entirely too fresh. Thane looked away, his jaw tightening at the reminder. Respecting his great-grandson's feelings, the Chosen One continued, To answer your question, Thane, yes. . .I am here about Merit's Vision. While your sister had that Vision, we felt it in the Force. Right now, even as we speak, Luke and my great-grandmaster are talking to Merit about this very subject.
"She's not resting. Damn her, why does she do this to herself?" Thane muttered. The young man rubbed his hand over his eyes, looking almost as tired as his sister did, then asked, "All right, I really shouldn't be surprised by this. Let me guess. . .she tried to rest, and then when that didn't work, she turned to meditation. . .only to give up in frustration, because she couldn't meditate properly, either?" Anakin didn't bother trying to hide his smile, since Thane was completely right about his little sister. Then again, he did raise her, with some assistance from Anakin's son and youngest grandson.
I think she may have inherited that tendency from me. Thane. . .what your sister told you, right after she came out of the Vision, is true. The way to fix the present and the future is by fixing the past. . .and, that is possible. I'll explain that later. Right now, I want to explain what exactly I want you to do in the past, Anakin stated. Just as his sister did, Thane raised both eyebrows. Just as his son and great-grandmaster could while speaking with Merit, Anakin could practically hear Thane's mind working.
Even so, the mortal Jedi asked, "Then my assumption that you want us to prevent your Fall would be incorrect?" Anakin smiled wryly. . .of course he did. They all wanted that. But there was far more to his request than simply preventing his Fall. The Council agreed that things in the past needed to be changed, including the removal of the no-attachment rule. They would have to be careful, because possessiveness and such emotions could and did lead to the Dark Side. However, given that it was love which defeated the Sith (even temporarily), it was agreed that Jedi who fell in love should be encouraged to remain in the Order.
This would also stop the slow bleed-out from the Order. While Force-sensitivity didn't necessarily pass from parent to child, Anakin's own family demonstrated that it did happen, as did Obi-Wan's. And that brought Anakin to the true reason he had approached Thane, the real purpose of sending his great-grandchildren back in time. He said quietly, Yes. It would. I don't want you to save me. I don't even want you to save the galaxy. I just want you to save Obi-Wan.
Thane blinked, obviously surprised, and Anakin repeated, Your task is not to save me. Someone else will do that, or I will save myself. No, Thane Luke. . .your task is to save Obi-Wan. Your job, and that of your sister, is to make sure I don't break his heart again. If you manage to save the galaxy from Palpatine and Darth Vader, wonderful. So much the better, you'll be the greatest hero ever known to the galaxy. But you save Obi-Wan, you protect him with your very life if you have to.
"How, exactly, do you want us to do that? The question isn't whether we want to do it, or whether we'll do it, but how do we protect him? How do we make sure that you don't break his heart again, how do we make sure you don't destroy everything that mattered to him?" Thane asked. Anakin began pacing the room, trying not to wince at the last comment, even though he knew it was true. He hadn't really thought that through, but when he looked at his past, everything began at one point.
He swallowed hard and said quietly, You make sure Qui-Gon Jinn doesn't die on Naboo. You wouldn't know this, since you became Merit's master out of necessity, since you and Aidan Kenobi are the last two Jedi Masters remaining, but the Force is supposed to lead a Master to a padawan. Obi-Wan became my Master because his own Master extracted a promise from him as Jinn lay dying.
"Master Kenobi could have said 'no,' Anakin," Thane pointed out gently. Anakin shook his head. How could he explain this in a manner that Thane would understand? And for the moment, he didn't have to try, as Thane continued, "I hadn't realized that Master Jinn meant so much to you. I saw some of Merit's Vision. . .he was the gray-haired man she saw, the one dying in the arms of the young man, wasn't he?" Anakin nodded, grateful he didn't have to explain that part.
Yes. And you're wrong, on both counts. I don't think it ever occurred to Master Obi-Wan to say no. Besides, Jinn was like his father. . .could you have denied anything Lisseth asked of you on her death bed, no matter how uncomfortable it made you? Anakin asked. Thane looked away. The Force-ghost continued, In answer to your other question, I don't want Qui-Gon Jinn as a master. . .he and I are too much alike. But I do want Master Obi-Wan to be happy, to have a chance to become a Knight without the burden of teaching and raising the Chosen One.
"Wait a minute. . .how old was Master Kenobi when all of this happened? When he became your Master?" Thane asked, perhaps realizing for the first time what his sister saw in her Vision. Anakin closed his eyes, realizing once more than when he fell to the Dark Side, when his children were conceived, he was only three years younger than Obi-Wan when he become Anakin's master.
Twenty-five standard years old, he said softly, smiling a little at his great-grandson's stunned expression. Thane mouthed, 'twenty-five?' No doubt, the young man was noting that his own sister was twenty-five years old. Anakin nodded and repeated, Twenty-five standard years old. He had no idea when he would take his final Trials to become a Knight. He went from a padawan to a master, in a heartbeat. I want you to spare him that. I want you to spare him the heartbreak of being shunted aside by his Master for the next best thing, spare him from thinking for decades that he was to blame for my stupidity. That is all that matters. Just save him.
SWSWSWSWSWSWSW
Although Yan Dooku knew it might require some convincing for Merit Solo to accept her true destiny, the girl's resistance startled him somewhat. It wasn't resistance to doing the right thing, he knew. Rather, it was much harder for him to quantify the source of her resistance, and the longer he spoke with her, the better he understood and better able he was to explain it to one of the Jedi in his own reality. Her resistance came not from a desire not to go back in time, but the exact opposite. She wanted to go back in time, wanted to make things right. . .and wanted a better life for herself.
Nearly everything she ever wanted in her life was taken from her before she could properly enjoy it. . .her mother, her grandparents, her older sister, whatever chances she might have had to find a mate. All done in the name of her father. Now, she was being given a second chance, in the past, and she was afraid to want it. Afraid he would take that from her, too. Many times in the last two decades, since Han and Leia Solo, and their daughter-in-law, joined them in the Force, Yan wept for this young girl. He thought he could shed no more tears for her, after her older sister Allana died in her arms. . .died while protecting the little sister she had met just a few short months earlier.
He had been wrong. But all he could say as Luke Skywalker joined him within the Force once more was, She has a great deal of anger within her, nearly as much as your father did when my padawan first met him. The younger Jedinodded his agreement. Yan expected very little argument. Luke was quite good at telling the truth, no matter how unpleasant he found it. The former Sith continued, She does have excellent control, however. Was that your influence, or perhaps your son's?
Not entirely. Some of Leia's as well. She doesn't believe us, you know, Luke pointed out. Yan nodded in acknowledgment. Luke went on, She especially doesn't believe us about her father. I suppose I can't blame her. But Jacen has never stopped loving her or Thane. She doesn't remember when she was very small, before Jacen regained his memories. She doesn't remember him dancing her around the room, pushing her on a swing, or falling asleep in his arms. Merit remembers none of that.
She can't afford to remember, from her point of view. And speaking of which. . .has your grandniece always been so protective of my grandpadawan? Yan asked. To his credit, Luke didn't bother asking which one. Just as his twin became close friends with Asajj, Luke became friends with Xanatos. And truly, his father never was Qui-Gon's padawan (something Yan's padawan had a hard time remembering). Yan could only mean his youngest grandpadawan.
She's become especially protective of him ever since she met Aidan and Amidala, Luke admitted. Ah, yes, now Yan remembered. Merit's exact words, upon learning how Aidan's mother Rilla was conceived, was along the lines of 'Sithspit! You mean my family hadn't taken enough from the man?' Yan wondered if there was something more driving her anger than that. It was hard to tell with Merit. She was a strange child, in many ways. Her protective attitude toward a man who had been dead for almost a century before her own birth was evidence of that.
Then there was her fury toward her great-grandfather. Merit found it hard to forgive Anakin Skywalker. Not even Luke's repeated explanation regarding his father's actions made a difference to his grandniece. Her own wounds were too fresh, and she was too much like Leia. . .too much like Anakin. Not that Luke was foolish enough to say so to his sister or to Merit. Ben might have said something to his Aunt about her struggle to forgive her father, but he would say nothing to his cousin about the same issue. . .not when he still could not forgive Jacen for robbing Ben of his own mother.
Jacen is much like your father. Too much so, at times, and young Merit sees what he did to her mother, what he's done to her and her siblings. In some ways, what Jacen did to his children was worse. You and Leia were babies when Padme died. . .you knew nothing of what transpired between them on Mustafar. But Thane was thirteen and Merit was six when Jacen's troops made them orphans, Yan murmured. He looked at Luke, adding, And yet, she remains a Jedi. You did well with them both.
Sometimes I wonder, Luke admitted, sometimes I fear that she'll fall to the dark side, as Jacen and Jaina did. As my father did. I look at Jacen, and I begin to understand Ben. . . Obi-Wan. . . a little better. Merit has such rage in her. . .they both do. Jacen hurt them both so badly. Yan nodded in agreement as he and Luke looked past the finally sleeping Merit to her older brother. He left his room after his conversation with Anakin, and returned to the broken simulator, which Aidan Kenobi was attempting to fix.
Nearby, Amidala Kenobi was working on something that drew all of her focus. Though she was eleven standard years old, she often seemed much older. Yan often said that of the father and daughter, Ami was the most like Obi-Wan. He never explained what he meant, choosing instead to allow others to figure it out for him/herself. However, this time, he chose not to be so indirect as he recalled again Rilla Kenobi's conception. Yan said venomously, Your grandniece is quite correct. That woman raped my grand-padawan. He lost everything that meant anything to him, he was gravely ill, and that woman raped him.
He saw the surprise in Luke's eyes as the former Grandmaster looked at him. Yan didn't really care. He forgave Asajj for torturing Obi-Wan, eventually forgave himself for the pain he caused that young man and other innocents. But he would never forgive Rilla's mother. He could not. In her own slatternly way, she was just as much of a Sith as he ever was. She took what she wanted. . .no matter what the price, no matter whom she hurt. And not even the occasional reminder that Rilla's mother had been used could quiet his fury. It was true, he knew that. . .he also knew that Obi-Wan was not among those who used her. He was, in fact, unfailingly kind to her.
Luke finally said, You do know that when she became one with the Force, Asajj was there to meet her? Yan felt his eyebrows wing up into his hairline. That, he hadn't known. Knowing of his apprentice's almost desperate desire to atone for the suffering she caused, that meeting must have been. . .interesting, to say the least. Luke went on, From what Rilla has told me, Asajj told her mother that she knew exactly what she had done to Obi-Wan, and that if she stepped out of line, even a little bit, Asajj would find a way to go back in time to ensure she never existence. You know how Asajj can be. Rilla told me that her mother had absolutely no doubt Asajj would do just that.
Yan tried not to laugh. Truly, he did. But he knew just how intimidating his apprentice could be, especially when she was being protective of someone she wronged in the past. Luke, for his own part, was struggling not to smile, especially when he added, From what I gather, some of the Jedi padawans whom Asajj killed or orphaned backed her up. They were not happy. They might not have forgiven Asajj, but she at least was honest. What? You thought that Father threatening her was the only reason she hasn't made an appearance? Asajj is far more frightening than Father.
Master Yan Dooku would not argue that point, as he completely agreed. With one last glance at the mortal Jedi, he told Luke, We should go. . .we have more work to do. The human Grandmaster nodded and the pair dematerialized to return to their home in the Force. There was a great deal of work to do, especially if they wanted the assistance of all of the Jedi within the 'great blue glowy beyond,' a phrase of which Yan was inordinately fond. Great blue glowy beyond, indeed!
SWSWSWSWSWSW
Anakin Skywalker was not expecting the body slam he received when he returned to the embrace of the Force. Technically speaking, he didn't have a body, but there was still sensation and touch. And body slams. The Chosen One found himself lying flat on his back, staring up at his assailant. . .his great-granddaughter Allana. The little imp beamed down at him, looking quite pleased with herself. She must have learned that from Obi-Wan, Anakin decided as he grabbed her under her arms and lifted her, that expression at least.In certain other ways. . .well, just like her younger sister Merit, Allana was very much Leia's granddaughter. Fortunately for him (and her father), Allana had inherited her great-grandmother's ability to forgive. There was absolutely no doubt in Anakin's mind that if she had not, Allana could have hurt him badly.
Depending on which self she chose. Allana still hadn't chosen her true form. Obi-Wan really didn't care, so his true form was however the people loved him saw him. Allana, however, deliberately chose to be either the young woman she was when she died in her sister's arms. . .or the form she had chosen today, that of her ten year old self. Anakin asked his great-granddaughter, still holding her under her arms, I take it you're pleased with the Council's decision and what we've done?
Well, that was a silly question! Were you pleased when Chewbacca gave Uncle Anakin and Obi-Wan a hug. . .at the same time? Allana demanded. Anakin barely managed to hold back a snicker. No, actually, he wasn't pleased. . .he was nearly on the ground, laughing hysterically. That was his reaction, as a general rule, at his former master's response whenever someone showed him physical affection (well, except Ventress. . . whom he would probably never forgive, but could tolerate, for Leia's sake).
That is not the same thing at all, little miss, and you know it. Tell me true, Allana, are you pleased with what we've started today? No, don't answer immediately. Think about what you want to say. Because there's a chance that you, your brother and your sister will no longer exist if they succeed, Anakin pointed out. The laughter died from Allana's eyes, and between one breath and the next, the little girl became a young woman.
I know that, Anakin. . .I know it better than anyone. But I also know there's also a chance that we'll still exist. Grandmother and Uncle Luke. . .Father, Uncle Anakin, Aunt Jaina. . .Thane, Merit, Ben, and myself. I know why you're doing this. I heard what you said to Thane. You want to save Obi-Wan. You want him to be happy, without the baggage he received the last time around. Myself? I want my brother and sister to be happy. And the sad truth is, Anakin, both Thane and Merit will be far safer in the waning days of the Old Republic than they are now. If Father finds them, he will kill them. There is no doubt in my mind of that. He will kill them, because he can't forgive himself for killing me. He cannot forgive himself, he knows he is to blame and only himself, but he will kill them for it, Allana replied.
She turned away from Anakin, sliding easily out of his hands, and observed as she watched the mortal Jedi, You want to save Obi-Wan. I want to save my brother and sister. Uncle Luke and Master Dooku want to save the galaxy. Aunt Asajj wants to save a lost child. Uncle Anakin and Aunt Jaina want to save our father. Do you ever ask yourself, my ancestor, whom Obi-Wan wishes to save, aside from his grandson and great-granddaughter? I don't. . .because he's told me. He wants to save you, and my great-grandmother, he wants to save the Jedi Order, he wants to save the galaxy, Uncle Luke and Grandmother. But never does it occur to him to save himself.
Any idea whom Yoda wants to save, Anakin asked, only half-joking. Allana merely shrugged, as if the question didn't interest her. She really had little to do with the ancient Grandmaster. Anakin had decided that he didn't care why Yoda sided with them. Only that he did. After a moment, the Chosen One said softly, And I'm not surprised. It would never occur to Master to save himself. Do you know, Allana. . .and much as I despise that woman, I have to admit the truth. . .Ventress and Bant often team up to make him take care of himself?
Allana actually laughed, replying, Of course they do! Aunt Asajj will never stop trying to atone for what she did. . .not just to Obi-Wan, but to the Jedi she killed. Why do you think she spends so much time with the younglings? Why do you think she was the first to befriend Rilla Kenobi? There was no way in the world Aunt Asajj would allow anyone to speak against Rilla for her mother's crimes against her father. Like it or not, Anakin, there's a very good reason why she's my grandmother's best friend. There's this huge, gaping need in Aunt Asajj. Grandmother isn't just her best friend. . .she's her big sister, her mother, her little sister, her aunt, her cousin, all rolled into one. She sees how vulnerable Aunt Asajj is, and she would never take advantage of it. Do you know how rare that is? For someone like Aunt Asajj to find someone she can trust implicitly?
Anakin's mouth opened and closed, trying to figure out how the kriff she changed the subject like that. Allana sighed and tapped on his chin, effectively closing his mouth. She said, You've said so many times in the past that Merit is much like our grandmother, and she is. She's just as headstrong as Grandmother, and she can be every bit as unforgiving. She has the same capacity for love and compassion. And then, Anakin finally understood what his great-granddaughter was trying to tell him. That lost child Ventress was trying to save. . .was herself. Allana nodded, saying, We're all trying to save the past, Anakin, and trying to save ourselves. It's just that Aunt Asajj is honest about it. While Obi-Wan, true to form, is trying to save everyone else. Now Anakin's head was starting to hurt. Allana sounded as if she was all right with this, all right with the idea of Ventress using other people to save her.
But there was more to his great-granddaughter's argument. . .as there usually was. Allana went on, You say that you want to save Obi-Wan. But is it just that you want to save him? Or do you want to save him, so he can save you? Do you see what I am telling you, my great-grandfather? I believe you do love him, very much. But I also believe you feel that Obi-Wan can save you from yourself, from Palpatine. Sometimes, there is such a fine line between selflessness and selfishness. Perhaps that is why Master Jinn is so vehement against this course of action.
Master Jinn is so vehemently opposed to this because he thinks he knows everything there is to know about the Force, Anakin bit out, and because Lisseth was quite correct when she said that he wished to punish your brother and sister for what he perceives as my failings. Allana raised an eyebrow, and Anakin added without bothering to turn around, I will not take back what I say, regardless of who hears me. With that, he did turn around to face Qui-Gon Jinn.
In a way, he regretted the distance between them. As a young boy, he had idolized this man, who took him from Tatooine. But when they were reunited within the Force, Anakin quickly discovered his childhood idol was much different from the man he remembered. His joy at reunited with the man as he thought of his as his first Jedi master soured quickly. Anakin still didn't know if it was their rift that caused Qui-Gon to become so bitter, but honestly, he didn't care.
I oppose this action because you're putting yourself above the Force, Anakin, just like you always did when you were young, the older man said quietly. Anakin just smirked and folded his arms across his chest. Oh, this should be good! Qui-Gon continued, It's quite understandable that you wish to save your great-grandson and great-granddaughter, but it's utterly wrong to use the Force to do it. You may have fooled Padme, but I know you sent those visions to your great-granddaughter.
White-hot rage exploded within Anakin's soul, and he growled out, Be mindful of your words, old man. It's one thing for you to accuse me of lacking in wisdom. I never denied that. But one thing I'm not, and never have been, is a liar. I did not send those Force-visions to Merit. You evidently missed the part of the Council where I pointed out that after being used as a pawn myself, I would never do that to a child of mine. Then again, you wouldn't understand anything about being a parent, would you? Wouldn't understand how much I love my great-granddaughter and my great-grandson. I love them more than you can imagine, yet I'm sending them to what could be their deaths.
I raised two boys to either adulthood or near adulthood, Qui-Gon fired back, I think I know more about being a parent than you do! Anakin merely raised his eyebrows, starting to enjoy this conversation. So, Qui-Gon wanted to play that game, did he? Anakin gently pushed Allana behind him, his eyes never leaving the other man. Was there actually a time when he accused his master of being no Qui-Gon when it came to wisdom. . .and meant it as an insult? The next time he saw Obi-Wan, he would have to apologize for that. Again.
Don't you mean, you abandoned two boys? Let's see, there was Xanatos. . .who has rejoined the Light, apologized to all the Jedi he either harmed or killed. In fact, he's one of the few Jedi or former Jedi who actively supports Asajj Ventress. Maybe that shows the bad judgment on his part, but he's willing to give second chances to people. And then there was Obi-Wan. Let's see, what was it that you said in the Council Chambers? Oh yes, that's right, 'I take Anakin to be my padawan learner.' Never mind that you already had a padawan! Stars end. . .it was bad enough that Vader cut my son's hand off. I might not be much of a father, but at least I never cut out my son's heart like that! You cast him aside as if he was a droid who was of no further use to you! And you have the arrogance to say that you know more about being a parent than I do? Do you really want to have this conversation with me, Qui-Gon? Hmm? Anakin demanded. His hands curled into fists at his sides, bright eyes blazing with fury.
Qui-Gon blanched when Anakin mentioned that day in Council, but the Chosen One wasn't finished. He bitterly reminded his first mentor, My legacy to the galaxy is my children. . .Luke and Leia, Ben, the twins, my namesake, Allana, Thane, and Merit. My legacy, not Vader's. Your legacy was not the Chosen One. No, your legacy's name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he's a Chosen One in his own right. Maybe not yours, and maybe not the Jedi's, but one thing you seem to have forgotten, Master Jinn, is that all servants of the Force are chosen for something. My great-grandchildren have been chosen to go back into the past, so the Force can be balanced. No. . .don't say it. I did not balance the Force when I killed Palpatine. I only killed Palpatine, I did not kill his legacy. The Force is still out of balance, all these decades later, because he already planted his legacy. I will not allow the galaxy to fall into darkness a second time, and I will not allow either of us to betray Obi-Wan and break his heart. Again. Do you understand me? Yoda sacrificed Obi-Wan to save you. . .you sacrificed Obi-Wan for me, and I sacrificed Obi-Wan for Padme. It ends now! Obi-Wan will not be sacrificed again!
He was more than a little startled when he felt a small hand slip into his own. Anakin looked down, to find his great-granddaughter choosing her child-self once more. Allana smiled up at him and said, You're right, Anakin. The Force has chosen my brother and my sister for this. And that is why they'll succeed. Come! We must tell Obi-Wan! Thane and Merit have received their instructions, and next it is time for Aidan and Amidala to receive theirs! Obi-Wan has already reached them, but Master Yoda thinks a second team should go and speak with them in person. I think Aunt Asajj should go. Do you think Obi-Wan would agree? Anakin was on the point of saying no, when he stopped and actually thought about it. And. . .it wasn't a bad idea. It wasn't a bad idea at all. Sensing his agreement, Allana beamed at him happily, then dragged him off in search of his former master and Asajj Ventress.