"I can't believe it…" Padmé breathed, shaking her head in shock. It had been many hours since Palpatine was kicked out of the Chancellor's office, and now she and the rest of the Jedi High Council were discussing, in full detail, Palpatine's identity as the Sith Lord who orchestrated everything. "He'd stage an invasion of his own homeworld to get himself elected as Chancellor?"

"That's what the Dark Side does to you," Meetra mused, "If you submerge yourself in it entirely, then it leaves you a broken, empty thing, only hungry for all the power you can get." She shook her head, looking kindly at Padmé. "Suffice it to say, you did the right thing getting Palpatine out of the Chancellor's seat."

"On the subject of the former Supreme Chancellor," Yoda cleared his throat, looking around, "Where has he gone, hm?"

"The official story - that is, what he told the press - is that he's retired to Naboo. But where he's actually gone is unknown," Mace replied, "He's very good at covering his tracks, and we can't open an investigation into his movements without due cause, which we don't have."

"We may have to stand back for the time being," Meetra outlined, "And wait until he slips up. Until then, however, we should look at this as a victory. A Sith Lord is no longer running the Republic. We very narrowly dodged a blaster bolt on vaporize, there."

"Indeed," Plo Koon agreed, "Is there any word on who is to succeed Palpatine?"

"Not as of yet." Meetra shook her head. "I believe Padmé's words about needing a leader with experience leading their people through wars hit home. The Senate is being much more careful with the nominees than Palpatine's election."

"Speaking of the war," Mace rumbled, taking a breath, "I'm not certain you're aware, but when Palpatine ordered the recreation of the Republic military, the Jedi were automatically folded into the command structure."

"I… see." Meetra frowned, narrowing her eyes. "What was he playing at, I wonder…"

"A very dangerous idea, it is." Yoda hummed, "Suited for the fields of battle, not all Jedi are."

Meetra very quickly nodded in agreement. "We aren't a military organization. We train and hone our powers for control over them, but that doesn't automatically translate to battlefield experience."

"Then what shall we do?" Ki-Adi Mundi inquired. "The Senate will be depending upon the Jedi to lead the conflict, and secure more victories like Geonosis."

"Yes, I know." Meetra muttered in response. It had been the same story during the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil Wars. The Republic went to war, found an enemy they couldn't fight, and called upon the Jedi to pick up the slack. Some gladly did, herself included, but not everyone who went into it was prepared for the blistering fires of war. "...It will be a voluntary service, then." She decided, looking around. "Only those among the Jedi who wish to fight will be sent into the conflict. No Padawans under a certain age, and before we send them, we train them."

Yoda closed his eyes, thinking quietly. "Be careful, we should… Wanted us to take part in this war, Darth Sidious did. Be mindful of ourselves, we must."

Mace nodded in agreement, looking to Meetra. "There is one more item on the agenda. The datacard you recovered from Dooku's corpse."

Meetra nodded, hitting a button on the arm of her chair, allowing a hologram of a spherical space station with an equatorial trench and enormous dish in the northern hemisphere to appear in the center of the chamber. "Master Nu and the data scribes were able to decipher the data's encoding scheme. Their analysis is still ongoing, but at the moment it appears the plans are for a battlestation of some sort, most likely a mobile headquarters of some type. Beyond that," She waved the hologram away, "It's unclear."

"I see." Mace frowned. "Then if that's all, we should adjourn this meeting. We all have much work to attend to. If the Separatists make another move, we need to be ready."

"Agreed," Meetra stood up, "Allow me to show you out, Padmé."

The Senator nodded, following Meetra's lead.

It is an important, and commonly repeated fact, that things, do not always, go as planned. For instance, Darth Sidious had planned to stage a proxy war with him pulling the strings of both sides to enable himself to accrue unlimited power to turn the Republic into his own personal Empire, only to have his position usurped by the same tool he used to get him into it.

Of course, it must also be said that things do not always go as planned for the good guys either.

The fact of the matter is that the Republic cannot be without a Chancellor for an extended period of time. All fine and dandy there. Another fact is that the Senators can propose whatever candidates they like for the election, with or without that candidate's prior knowledge.

It was that perfect storm of factors that led to a veritable army of supporters standing outside the Jedi Temple, assaulting Padmé with questions about her bid for Chancellorship.

So, in a classic example of the Force having an ironic wit, after thwarting Palpatine's plans, Padmé's plans to go home and sleep until the heat death of the universe were also thwarted.

"I can't believe this!" Padmé incredulously explained, back in her apartment with Meetra, Anakin, and the droids, looking through the headlines.

She seemed to be repeating that phrase a lot.

"Oh, look!" Meetra held up one with a wide, joyful smile. "Galaxy's Got Talent's been renewed for its five-thousandth season! Though, if you ask me that show really peaked during season three-thousand-and-twelve. They had an ex-Jedi on there that could use the Force to fill in for an entire orchestra, great stuff."

"Meetra," Anakin, most unusually, was the one to sternly addressed her, "Looking for articles about the person who nominated Padmé, try to keep up."

"Query:" Hk-47 spoke up. "Does Galaxy's Got Talent still have that delightful troupe of droids that combine into a giant blaster rifle? There was something about their act that spoke to me on a deeply personal, spiritual level, Master."

"Oh, they are!" Meetra looked up with her eyebrows happily in her hairline. "Though this go-around, they're breaking the mold and all combining into one massive super-droid." She scoffed, swiping the article away, "Give me a break, that act will be stale the first time they perform it." She came up on another article, scoffing again at the headline about the latest celebrity couple gossip. "Well, that won't last. He's gay and she's a Zeltron." She looked at Anakin, tapping her nose knowingly. The nose always knew. "If you think regular women always find out your secrets, you've never met a Zeltron." She tapped her head. "Telepaths, you know?"

"I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously." Anakin crossed his arms, tilting his head in her direction scathingly.

"We're in a tricky situation - not dead." Meetra answered, looking back down at the datapad in her hands. "Besides, whoever nominated her does make a convincing argument."

"Excuse me?" Padmé repeated, practically spluttering it out. She couldn't be Chancellor! The idea was preposterous on every level! Besides, what might the others say if she did wind up winning? That she ousted Palpatine to take power for herself.

"Like you said in the Senate," Meetra shrugged simply, "The Republic needs a leader with expertise leading their people during wartime situations. Does the Trade Federation's occupation of Naboo ring a bell?"

"No, that's not-" Padmé spun to Anakin for help.

The Padawan, however, held up his hands. "Don't look at me. I agree with Meetra."

"Seriously!?"

"You kicked the Federation off Naboo yourself when the Senate wouldn't help, you were the first person to help Meetra and I with the Hyperlane, you are really good with a blaster-" He began to gush, going from what would make her a good leader to the traits he found personally attractive. To his own credit, he did catch himself, clearing his throat. "Your people loved you, Padmé, to the extent they tried to amend the constitution to let you rule for life. You'd be perfect for the position."

"When's the vote due?" Meetra inquired.

"Tomorrow," Padmé chewed her lips, "Now that the nominees have been named and alerted - it's just a matter of time." She looked at the duo, "You really think I have a chance?"

"Padmé," Meetra addressed, "I think you'd be the best damned Chancellor in galactic history."

"That's a stretch," Padmé huffed.

"It's what I believe." Meetra replied honestly.

Padmé would make a good Chancellor. Hopefully, she'd get the chance to prove it.

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, Darth Sidious was having a meeting of his own with Lama Su, Prime Minister of Kamino.

The Sith Lord was led slowly through the halls of Kamino, on a tour of the almost assembly line-like production of the Clone Troopers.

"The training is, of course, up to the selection of the customer." The Kaminoan outlined, gesturing to the legion of Clones extending before them out a window.

It displeasured Sidious to no end having to rely on the Kaminoans for his second army after having the rug ripped out from under him the first time. But, it was a temporary solution, at best. Just until the Techno Union could get their new clone assembly lines up and running.

Of course, the visit had another purpose. While he kept Lama Su occupied, his spies would be sneaking around, appropriating the Kaminoans' research for the Sith.

"Have you given the training regimen you desire consideration?"

"Indeed." Sidious rattled in response, glaring out on the factory of humans. "They are to be trained to kill targets no less difficult than Jedi, at least."

"I see," Lama Su looked down at the Sith Lord curiously, "This army is to oppose the Republic, then?"

"The Republic and any who would stand in my way." Sidious spat. "If you have a problem with that, I will merely take my credits elsewhere."

"I understand," Lama Su shook his head, "However, the Republic's troops have had a great deal of lead time."

"Then you must increase the growth factor, and I will be taking with me a portion of the Republic's clones until my army is complete." Sidious ordered, putting the might of the Force behind his suggestion, "I require a capable, effective, and utterly devoted army as soon as possible."

"What you ask is possible, although not advisable, but very well." Lama Su bowed his head. "Of course, we must discuss the subject of payment…"

"You will be well-compensated, of course. But, my organization will handle the procurement of equipment and starships." Sidious told the Prime Minister sternly, leaving no room for argument. "All you are to provide is the bodies and training. As for the transaction itself…" Sidious produced a small datapad, tapping in a few values, handing it to Su. "I believe this will be a suitable down payment, don't you?"

The Kaminoan's already massive eyes widened at the number, before nodding. "Of course. I'll see to it that production begins immediately, with all the additions we discussed."

Sidious grinned. "Excellent."

The universe, oftentimes, has a way of thrusting things upon us regardless of our wants, or what we think we need. It's the simple fact of life, of course - challenge is the crucible in which we are forged as better people. The Republic had gone without that for too long.

It was thus that Meetra stood in the Senate, watching as the count deciding who would become Supreme Chancellor to lead the Republic through the coming war, with anticipation, perhaps a little anxiety, but not any dread.

The Republic had almost fallen several times over by now, and it came back. It always came back, even when things seemed to be at their darkest.

"So," Someone spoke up next to her, glowing faintly, "Another war's on. How about that?"

"It happens," Meetra shrugged, sighing, "People will fight, it's just the way things are. We'll get through this, though. I know we will."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Revan agreed, glancing at her. "You realize she's going to make you lead the entire military, right?"

"Oh?" Meetra raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So sure Padmé's going to win?"

"I am." Revan nodded, his bearded face locked in tranquil contemplation. "The vote's just a formality - despite her fighting against the military bill, she's the shoe-in for Chancellor. The one candidate everyone can agree that is right to lead the effort… and a convenient sacrifice if everything goes wrong." He suddenly scowled, shaking his head. "This is why I hate politics. Everyone's too concerned covering their own asses."

"They'll learn," Meetra looked out upon the Senate, just as grave, "The hard way. Why do you think she'll pick me?"

"Well, for starters, she knows who you are." Revan answered simply, "Your history."

"You'd think that would make her less inclined to pick me for the job." Meetra snorted.

"Maybe, but it proves you have the experience." Revan shrugged, clasping his hands behind himself. "You always were good at leading groups of people."

"Is that why you made me a General?" Meetra cocked an eyebrow.

"No, it was because you were a looker - reminded the soldiers what they were fighting for." He flashed a slimy grin, earning him a smack on the arm.

"Did you know what I was capable of?" Meetra questioned after a moment. "With my Force bonds? Is that why you chose me?"

Revan sighed. "You ask me that every time I visit."

"Every time you visit, you don't give me an answer."

Revan rubbed his eyes, "To a measure. You were a compelling woman, people trusted you. Your battles would become your followers' battles, and they'd follow you into the abyss without question. I saw that… Alek saw that." He glanced in her direction. "We needed people who could inspire that, in order to win against the Mandalorians. Just as you'll need it now."

"About that," She turned, glaring at him, "You always seem to know what's going on, popping in, telling me what to do without telling me why, then popping out."

Revan sighed. "Meetra, we've been at this for four-thousand years. You still haven't come to the conclusion I'd tell you if I could?"

"Oh, I know that," Her eyes blazed, "I'm more upset that you only visit when you want me to do something."

Revan's eyebrows shot up. "Ah. Right…"

She crossed her arms, "What kind of man only visits a woman he needs something?"

"…a dead man?" Revan answered, grinning at his own, double-meaning joke. "Ah, you see, it's funny because-" He cleared his throat under the force of her glower, "It's not funny at all." He rubbed his face, tired. "Look, Meetra, I'm sorry, but I could never visit because… well, because it would hurt too much."

She looked away, shaking her head. "I could've handled it."

"No, I mean it would've hurt me." Revan elaborated, Meetra's eyebrows shooting up in surprise that he would have admitted such a thing. "It's… well, you don't know what it's like. All of us are here, in the Force. Every one of your friends and family, and we want nothing more than for you to join us, but we know you never can. That's why we never visit unless things go seriously wrong." He admitted. "Because every time we leave you, we die again."

"You big sap." She rolled her eyes, as he took it in stride with a chuckle. "So, last time then, when you visited, telling me I needed to bring the Mass Shadow Generator to the middle of empty interstellar space, that was just the excuse, then?"

Revan, if at all possible for a being without flesh anymore, lost the color in his face. "I'd tell you the details… but you know the importance of living in the moment." He shook his head, placing his hands into the pockets of his robes. "It will all work out eventually, you know that. For now, focus on the moment."

Meetra opened her mouth to retort, before a loud buzz yanked her attention away momentarily, as the results of the vote came in, and she grinned. "Look at that. You were right."

"I'm always right." Revan snorted. "Well, about people at least. That's why I was such a great leader." He chuckled to himself, as the Senate went bonkers as Padmé was declared the victor.

"People are going to find it suspicious," Meetra rightly pointed out, "Padmé winning the election while being the one to suggest the Vote of No Confidence."

"It happens." Revan shrugged. "She deserves it, though. She's a strong, compelling woman, with an understanding of the human cost of war. Exactly the leader the Republic needs."

"Which means…" Meetra began to realize with a groan, "She'll make me lead the military."

Revan actually laughed at that. "You'll do fine. You always do." He began to fade slightly. "Besides, you're not the only one who's going to suffer," A wide smile spontaneously crossed his features, "She's already considering replacing Mas Amedda with Senator Organa. She's a troublemaker, that Padmé. Going to rock the whole Senate's boat, I can feel it."

"The perfect counterpart to Anakin," Meetra mused, as Padmé began to speak to the Senate, addressing the enormous responsibility granted to her, her reluctance… and her acceptance of it.

"Speaking of," Revan looked pointedly at her, "I think it's time you complete his training, don't you?"

Meetra took a breath, slowly nodding. "It is."

The Sith had returned, a war was now on, and he was old enough.

It was time Anakin knew what was expected of him.

That night, long after everything had died down, Anakin was startled, jolted awake to find Meetra standing over him.

"Meetra?" Anakin double-took, "Wha-?" His eyes popped out of his skull, as he yanked the blanket over his chest, covering the bare skin.

"Put these on," She ordered, tossing a bag onto his bed, "Now."

Anakin looked down into the bag of robes with a confused look, wondering just what the hell was going on.

He did obey Meetra, though not without some confusion. At last, however, after he got ready for the day, she began to speak.

"Ten years ago, when you were brought before the Council, Qui-Gon Jinn professed his belief that you were the Chosen One," Meetra began to explain, "Destined to restore balance to the Force."

"Wait, the Chosen One stuff?" Anakin raised an eyebrow. "You mean it's not all just something he made up to get me into the order?"

"Ha!" Meetra threw her head back, before quickly shaking her head, sobering up quickly. "No, no… It's a very real prophecy. And with the Sith having returned at last… I think now, the time is approaching where you'll need to know what is expected of you, and how to accomplish it."

"Expected of me?" Anakin repeated with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"It is said that the Chosen One will destroy the Sith," Meetra answered, "As well as the Dark Side itself, and bring balance to the Force."

"H-Hold on," Anakin rubbed his head, holding up a hand, "Destroying the Sith, that makes sense. But destroying the Dark Side itself? That doesn't make sense! It's part of the Force, just as much as the Light."

"A common misconception," Meetra answered wisely, "Here and now, we refer to the Light and the Dark to refer what most believe are two halves of a greater whole, coexisting as one. But, what if I told you that they aren't meant to coexist? That the Dark Side of the Force is, fundamentally, unnatural?"

"…what?" Anakin blinked cluelessly.

"Long ago," Meetra took a breath, sitting down, like she was beginning to tell a story, "The Force was everything." She looked at him, almost conspiratorially. "All of it - the good, the bad, emotions like love, pride, hate, and fear - all of it was unified as one in the Force itself, and it was just the Force. But along the way, something happened. Something terrible." She shook her head, "The Sith - the True Sith, the Sith that evolved on the ground of Korriban - they discovered how to use the Force. The Sith are a treacherous, power-hungry, and blood-soaked people, and the True Sith were no different, even back before they mastered their homeworld, riding around on the backs of mounts, using spears to hunt and forage. But for the individuals of the ancient Sith, merely being able to hear the Force wasn't enough. It wasn't just enough to be special, they had to be special amongst the special - the most powerful. Some of them could have done it through study and practice in the Force, but they all wanted the same thing - power now, and more power than everybody else. Now, ordinarily, evolution takes care of things on its own. A species so treacherous to itself doesn't survive long enough to disseminate knowledge amongst its individuals, but somehow, the Sith managed to hold on long enough to realize what the Force was, what they could do with it… and how to make their own version."

"Wait," Anakin put a foot down, looking at her in stunned disbelief, "The Sith created the Dark Side?"

"Maybe," Meetra replied, "Or maybe it retroactively gave rise to them so it would have worshippers to sustain it. I don't know. The point is, the Dark Side of the Force is, plain and simply, unnatural. It's an aberration - a cancer. The Force accepts us, all of us, and our emotions, even the most negative. But, somewhere along the way, the Sith introduced the Dark Side into the process. They… took a chunk of the Force and twisted it into something monstrous, or they made it from scratch, and now it's sitting there, like a leech, feeding off everything negative that Force Sensitives can feel, amplifying those feelings in turn, and becoming even more powerful. Our emotions are the best parts of us; they give us reasons to fight, but the Dark Side is taking them, corrupting them, feeding off them, and leaving the Light all the weaker for it because we're too scared of Falling to feel them."

"How do you know?" Anakin questioned. "You weren't there, unless- wait, were you?"

"No," Meetra shook her head, "The Rise of the Sith was… well before my time." She went quiet in thought for a second. "An old teacher of mine said she hated the Force. That it seemed to have a will, that it was okay with using us to bring balance to itself. But… that never gelled well with me, for years after the fact. If the Force is some omnipotence presence directing everything, then why would it get out of balance in the first place?"

Anakin pursed his lips in thought, before answering the question. "I don't know."

"Neither did I," Meetra replied, leaning forward on the table, clasping her hands together, "So, after Revan and I took care of the True Sith, we went in search of answers. And… we found them."

"Really?" Anakin straightened up, his curiosity piqued. "Is that how you know all this?"

"It is." The Ancient Jedi confirmed. "And in order to fulfill your destiny, you'll need to know it too. To understand the Dark Side, not fear it."

If Meetra could say anything that could shock him beyond that point, Anakin wanted to hear it.

"You want me to touch the Dark Side!?" Anakin raised his voice.

"You need to know what it feels like," The Jedi reasoned, "So that you know when it's trying to exert its influence on you to do that, and get the explanation you deserve, we can only go to one place."

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"You'll see." Meetra replied, "We're still some time out, however. So, then… do you have any questions?"

"Just one." Anakin admitted, "You use dark side powers. Force lightning, for example…"

"You want to know how I use them without using the Dark Side?" Meetra questioned in response. At his nod, she continued. "You'll figure it out yourself, where we're going." She admitted with a slight smile.

"I hate you," Anakin shook his head with a smile at the bait-and-switch.

"I know."

Meanwhile, back across the galaxy, on Coruscant, Padmé was just coming to terms with what victory in the election meant. She was no fool, of course. She was a nice, ready, self-prepared sacrificial lamb to the war gods, ready to be chewed up and spat out. If the war went in the Republic's favor, any number of Senators could spin it to make themselves look better, due to their invaluable counsel during her Senator days. If not, they could toss her aside, and say, "Well, she is on the younger side. She just didn't know as much as she thought she did, evidently."

It didn't matter much to her either way. Her priority was ending the war, whatever way she could. Diplomacy, preferably, but with things being as they were now, it became a matter of fighting, until both sides were willing to do what they were always going to have to do eventually from the very beginning:

Sit down and talk. Until then, the Republic needed its Chancellor ready and able to lead. And the Chancellor needed someone to lead the army - a High General overseeing it. Padmé herself, while she'd led small squads from the ground, had no effort leading an entire military - at least, not deployments.

So, she put in a request. It did take some time now, of course, given that Mas Amedda had been thoroughly sacked, though it was just something she had to deal with until she could get things in order. She was not about to trust Palpatine's closest aide not to spy on her, or poison her meals, or steal her hair for some Force Voodoo magic ritual.

Eventually, the door did open, but it was not Meetra who entered, no. It was instead two bearded men, and men she knew quite well.

"Qui-Gon?" Padmé stood up in surprise. "Obi-Wan?"

"Senator Amidala," Qui-Gon greeted with a gentle, almost fatherly smile, "Although, I suppose it's Chancellor now."

"I must admit," Obi-Wan, now sporting neck-length hair and a thick shroud of hair on his jaw as opposed to the clean-shaven and short-cut Padawan she'd met, spoke with no small amount of surprise, "When we left for Huk, we didn't expect to be returning with a new Supreme Chancellor already in-office."

"Well, the universe has a way of moving us past expectations," Padmé sucked in a breath through her teeth, stressfully shaking her head, "Everything is moving so quickly… it feels like I haven't slowed down since Geonosis. Things are only going to keep winding up with the Separatists getting ready to strike any day now."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon hummed in agreement, "It seems the drums of war are sounding for all across the galaxy now. But, that's not why we're here," He crossed his arms sagely, looking around the office. "Obi-Wan and I have been assigned as your bodyguards by the High Council's request."

Padmé bit away a laugh. "In case you hadn't noticed, the assassin and the man who hired him are both dead now. My need for protection is done. Besides, don't you still have the situation on Huk to dissolve?"

"The Huk situation has been taken care of," Qui-Gon waved away, as he typically did, "We've submitted a report and a request for a full planetary quarantine until they can learn not to eat the young of other sapient races. It will cross your desk soon, no doubt."

"And the Council has yet to officially close your request for Jedi bodyguards." Obi-Wan continued. "And to be honest, Chancellor-"

"Padmé," She corrected him with a slight face, "I'm still getting used to all this."

"Padmé," Obi-Wan immediately corrected himself, "Darth Sidious is still out there. You've usurped his position, but the Sith are violent, vile, vengeful beings. He will not allow a slight like this to stand."

Qui-Gon nodded in agreement, turning to face her properly. "Obi-Wan is right, Padmé. Palpatine cultivated many connections, reputable and otherwise I'm sure, during his tenure as Chancellor. Don't make the same mistake as the rest of the Republic, please."

"If nothing else," Obi-Wan offered a kind smile of his own, "We can help you assemble proof that Palpatine was up to no good. And take care of any potentially-boobytrapped Sith artifacts."

"Well…" Padmé leaned back somewhat, thinking on it. "You'll tell your Grand Master I have a job offer for her?"

"Of course." Qui-Gon bowed his head slightly.

Padmé nodded. Two more Jedi bodyguards, ones she trusted as much as Anakin and Meetra themselves, ready, willing, and able to help her, and defend her from threats she couldn't see coming…

Well, she wasn't stupid, and her mother always told her to never look a gift shaak in the mouth.

Days later, the Ebon Hawk landed on the surface of a vast desert world, coral-like trees extending as far as the eye can see.

Meetra and Anakin walked down the ramp, but notably, Meetra didn't set foot onto the planet.

"What is it?" Anakin worriedly looked to her, as his feet sunk slightly in the sand.

"This place is a nexus of the Force." Meetra answered. "You're here to learn the Dark Side, and your destiny. Unfortunately, that's not my subject to teach. I can tell you the theory, what I know, but I'm not infallible. Even though I trust what I said about the Sith and the Dark Side is true, that doesn't mean it's true. The only way for you to be sure, and know what you must do, is to walk this path yourself, and learn from this place."

"How can I do that if you don't go with me?" Anakin questioned impatiently.

Meetra, however, smiled. "I'll always be with you, Anakin. If not in body, then in spirit. Don't worry… you can do this. I know it." She turned and walked back up the ramp, leaving him on his own.

Anakin frowned, before taking a breath, and he began to wander, just like he had on Ilum, looking for his lightsaber crystal.

Time on the planet… wherever it was, seemed to stretch like the desert before him - vast and endless, threatening to scorch, and burn, and drag him under the sands. Seconds stretched out into hours, as he just… wandered, shutting off his sense of direction, letting the Force guide him.

Eventually, he reached an opening leading into the ground, a darkened cave entrance, the one shelter from the scorching heat. Anakin practically fell over himself, trying to run inside.

In fact, that's exactly what he did. The sand was so loose and slippery that he tripped, faceplanting, getting a faceful of sand like he would sometimes when he was a kid.

The Padawan lifted his head, wiping the sand off and spitting it out, opening his eyes. When he did, he shot to his feet in surprise.

In the time it took for him to fall and recover from it, night had fallen.

Anakin looked around, spinning every which way in confusion.

"Lost?" A deep, booming voice, tinged with a faint Coruscant-ish accent.

Anakin spun back around to the source, finding a man sitting in front of the fire that, like the night, most certainly was not there before.

The man was human, or near-human enough to be indistinguishable, with a face ravaged by the passage of time, all full of deep valleys and loose skin. The elderly gentleman's eyes seemed to want to escape their sockets, the faded blue locked directly on Anakin, as his short, curly silver hair caught the moonlight, like wisps of smoke off the top of a candle, his hooked nose giving the impression that he was, in fact, melting.

"Well…" Anakin shifted. "I suppose you could say that."

"Ah," The man's voice, best described in the terms of vast and sweeping, took on a chuckle, "Things do get lost, you know. But very rarely do they do so on purpose." He mused, "Oh, where are my manners?" He suddenly asked of himself, leaning on his cane, "Sit, my son, sit. You've come a long way since Tatooine, hm?"

Anakin straightened, frowning in suspicion. "How do you know where I'm from?"

"You are Anakin Skywalker? Son of Shmi Skywalker, born on Tatooine?" The man inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"How do you know that?" Anakin questioned, rail stiff. "Did Meetra tell you I was coming?"

"Meetra," The old man repeated thoughtfully, "Oh, no. I felt you coming," He confessed, leaning forward slightly, "There is a great imbalance within you. Just as well I turned up then!"

Anakin frowned at the man, looking him up and down. "You're Meetra's teacher, aren't you? The one who taught her the truth about the Dark Side?"

"The truth?" The man repeated in disbelief. "I taught her a truth - the truth she wanted to hear, but calling it the truth might be a stretch."

"Then you're a liar. You told her the Sith made the Dark Side."

"Maybe they did," The man replied, tapping his nose, "Or maybe they just gave it strength. It doesn't matter, in either case."

Anakin scowled. "You told her I needed to destroy the Sith, and the Dark side."

"Ah, that." The man pointed, "I did no such thing."

"Look," Anakin let out a breath, his patience already at an end, "Who are you?"

"Who indeed." The man chuckled to himself, like a great joke had just been told, and he was the only one to understand it. "Let's see… You have the Ashla, which the Jedi use to enable their powers, and the Bogan, which the Sith slave themselves to in order to become stronger."

"You're talking about the Light and the Dark." Anakin quickly deduced.

"Light and Dark would imply one is inherently moral and the other is immoral." The man retorted. "They are not. As to who I am - I am the whole that both comprise. I'm the Bendu."

Anakin silently stared, dripping disbelief. "You're the Light and the Dark combined. The entire Force. Really?"

"Oh, good, you've heard of me!" The Bendu grinned, wider than a Lothcat. "It's a serviceable name, but not what I call myself. Although… if I told you what I call myself, we'd be here for fifty-thousand years just to speak the first syllable of it. For now, my child, 'Bendu' will do in a pinch."

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. This was Meetra's teacher of the Dark Side? The entity that gave her all the elusive answers she'd sought?

An old man, driven senile by the isolation, naming himself after an old religion (that was the same one the Republic took its symbol from?).

Anakin shook his head. The man could go around, flapping his arms, calling himself a Porg for all he cared. He was there for a purpose. "I've come to learn about the Dark Side."

"No." The Bendu shook his head, gesticulating rapidly despite his advanced age. "You came to touch it." In a single instant, like a planet orbiting far around an unstable star having its oceans snap-freeze once the sun went down, his geniality, his slightly jovial, almost playful demeanor evaporated, making way for a wide-eyed, focusless expression pointed right at Anakin as he leaned closer to the Jedi Padawan, the old man's voice practically hissing and growling the words. "To feel it's power. To know it. To know what to run from. To hide from."

With every sentence, the Bendu's eyes seemed to grow, covering all angles of Anakin's vision, before the old man suddenly broke into a smile, and pulled back, leaving the Padawan put out and with the urge to get through this and get out.

"If that's all you came for, that's all you had to say." The Bendu chuckled to himself. "New experiences are important, you know. Especially for one such as yourself." The old man reflected, before turning to the cave, pointing. "That place is a shroud, of the Dark Side and for it." He got to his feet, walking with his cane toward it by just a few paces, before stopping, rooting himself to the ground. "You will find yourself confronting fears you didn't even know you had. It will bubble in you. It will boil. It will burn. Your legs will become too weak for your body. Your hands will lose all co-ordination. And you will want nothing more than to turn and run. But you mustn't run. You must feel that fear. Grab hold of it, tightly. Use it to fuel yourself, without letting it control you. You must learn how to navigate the Dark without allowing it to consume you. Only then, will you have a true grasp of it."

Anakin blanched, "I only need to learn what it feels like-"

"Then you will fail!" The Bendu slammed his cane into the sand, causing a gust of wind-propelled sand to blow out the fire. "Feeling fear will still allow it to rule you. And then, you will lose yourself, and all that you hold dear. Go into the cave, my child, but when you do, you must be ready to fight. And use your fear."

Anakin looked between the old man and the mouth of the cave, before unclipping his lightsaber, walking into the yawning cavern.

The Padawan disappeared into the darkness, as his trial began.