Crouched behind a hut of dried skins, in the middle of the Raiders' camp, Anneke unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and activated the blade. The sense of her mother's pain had grown stronger and stronger until she had arrived here, and she knew without doubt that this was where Shmi was held captive. She had snuck into the camp, hiding in the shadows as she made her way to this hut—though a part of her wanted simply to cut a swath through the bodies between her and her mother.
By the light of her saber and the three moons, she cut a hole in the stretched hide that made up the back wall of her mother's prison and slid inside. Candles flickered in the gloom inside, lighting the form of Shmi Skywalker where she was bound to a wooden frame, hanging upright in the centre of the hut.
Letting her saber fall to the floor, Anneke rushed to her mother's side and untied the leather thongs that held her to the rough wooden slats. Shmi's body fell bonelessly into Anneke's arms—she was so light!
Gently lowering her to the floor, Anneke sat and cradled her mother's head in her lap. If not for her Jedi senses, she wouldn't know if Shmi lived; her breathing was so shallow it was almost indiscernible. She was covered in so much dirt and blood it was impossible to tell how badly she was injured. Anneke didn't realize she was crying until the tears spilled over and splashed on her mother's face.
Shmi's eyelids fluttered, then her eyes slowly opened, fastening on her daughter's face. "Anni…? Is that you…?" Her voice was a rasping whisper.
A choked gasp escaped Anneke. "I'm here, Mom. You're safe. Hang on. I'm going to get you out of here."
Shmi lifted her hand and touched Anneke's cheek with trembling fingers. "I'm so proud of you, Anni... So proud... I missed you so much…"
Anneke caught her mother's hand and cupped it against her cheek. "Just stay with me, Mom. I'm going to make you well again. Everything's going to be fine." Her voice broke.
Shmi smiled. "I love…" Her voice trailed off, and her body went limp in Anneke's arms. Her eyes rolled back, staring as her head fell to the side. The pain that had been a constant in Anneke's senses for so long disappeared, and the bright spot in the Force that was her mother winked out.
"No—!" Anneke clutched her mother's body to her chest as if she could bring her back through sheer will. The fire in her veins that had receded while speaking to Shmi came rushing back, hotter than before.
She sat still for a moment, her face buried in her mother's hair, then gently laid Shmi's body down, closed her eyes, and rose, calling her lightsaber to her hand, the blade casting a cold blue light over everything.
The first light of dawn hinted at an end to the night, and the camp began to stir. Anneke stepped through the door of the hut that had been her mother's prison, cutting down the guards before they saw her. An old woman had stepped out of a hut across the way to dump a pail; she froze, staring at Anneke, then screamed. It was an eerie sound, high and shrill, clawing up Anneke's spine to burrow in her skull.
As if summoned by the shriek, several Raiders appeared from between the huts, waving weapons and rushing at Anneke. She welcomed them, her heart a furnace burning through the walls of her Jedi training. She seized the Force in a fist of white-hot rage and blazed through her attackers without thought or hesitation.
A frantic, familiar voice echoed through the roaring in her ears: "No, Anneke! No! Don't! No!"
"Qui Gon?" she whispered. Her eyes focused: all around her, Tuskens lay broken—dead or dying—all around her. Not just the ones who had attacked her, either; the old woman who had screamed lay unmoving beside her empty bucket, and a smaller body—possibly around Anneke's age—stared at her from unseeing eyes.
Cowering before Anneke, a mother shielded a child with her own body. Their fear floated on the morning breeze like the smoke from the cookfires. As she paused, the mother caught her child up in her arms, and fled into the dunes.
A sudden trembling took hold of Anneke, and she fell to her knees, her lightsaber slipping from her grasp. The fire in her veins fled, to be replaced with ice. Teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms around herself. "What have I done?" she whispered.
"She's back!"
Padraig leapt to his feet at Owen's shout, rushing out the door on the other young man's heels. The speeder bike approached, Anneke easing up on the throttle as she neared. A body wrapped in rough grey cloth was strapped to the seat in front of her. Padraig's hand went to his mouth, and he choked back a gasp.
Beru brushed past him, and slipped her hand into Owen's. Cliegg's hoverchair paused between Padraig and Owen. Ignoring all of them, Anneke lifted the body from the bike and carried it to the house. Her face was streaked with tears and dirt, her eyes chips of cold blue fire.
Padraig reached out toward her as she passed, but stopped just short of touching her. A wall of pain and grief surrounded her, nearly visible to the eye. He let his hand fall and stood helplessly watching as she disappeared into the house.
Padraig hesitated at the door of the workshop. Anneke had been in there for hours. At first, he had let her alone, respecting her need for solitude, but now he could no longer stay away. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.
Anneke stood at a workbench in the middle of the small cluttered room, tinkering with some kind of mechanical part. Her eyes flickered up as Padraig entered, then dropped back to her work. "The shifter broke." Her voice was rough. She took a shaky breath. "Life seems so much simpler when you're fixing things. I'm good at fixing things... always was. But I couldn't—" She broke off with a choked sob.
Padraig crossed the room and put a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes there are things no one can fix. You're not all-powerful, Anni."
She slammed the broken pieces onto the bench, her hands clenched around them. "I should be! Someday I will be! I will be the most powerful Jedi ever! I promise you..." Her voice broke, trailing off into silence.
He tightened his grip on her shoulder. "Oh, Anneke…"
She snatched a tool from the workbench and flung it across the room. It hit the wall and fell clattering to the floor. She lifted her hands before her and stared at them as if she didn't recognize them. "I killed them," she whispered.
"Killed who?" When she didn't answer, Padraig gently turned her face toward him. "Killed who, Anni?"
Her eyes focused on him as if coming back from far away. "I was so angry. I slaughtered them like animals." She clutched her hands to her stomach, her gaze dropping to the floor. "They killed her, and I hated them." Her voice faded to a whisper. "I don't want to hate them…"
His heart dropped. No matter what they had done, he couldn't justify wholesale slaughter. But somewhere along the way, she had become more important to him than any number of other people, and she clearly regretted what she had done. He took her hands in his. "This is not who you are, Anni."
Her eyes snapped back up, intense and pleading. She shook her head savagely. "I'm a Jedi. I know I'm better than this."
"You are." He pulled her into his arms, and she came willingly, clutching at him as she fell into his embrace. He traced circles on her back, murmuring soothing nonsense as she wept into his shoulder.