From Darkness, I Rise

by Kurenaino

The Jedi are thrust into a war that threatens to tear the galaxy apart, and prospects are bleak when the fearsome Sith Negotiator begins to win key victories against the Republic. Sequel to From Grace, I Fall. Also, more Sith!Obi keeps the sadness away. Search your feelings. You know it to be true.

15. The Clones of Kamino

Chapter 15: The Clones of Kamino

"I'm going to make her a droid!"

Qui-Gon stood in the doorway of the room in Padme's luxurious Naboo estate that he and Anakin would share. The Master had just come back from his walk around the perimeter, checking the security and making certain that everything seemed safe and secure, and he returned to see their room filled with wires and parts and plating and broken droids. Anakin's personal droid, a small, blue and white astromech droid called R2-D2, was rolling around in the limited space, beeping rapidly and prodding the broken droids for parts.

"A droid..." Qui-Gon repeated, tired blue eyes looking over the mess, and he couldn't keep from sighing. "Anakin, why."

"She's really into politics, right? I'm going to make her a protocol droid, it'll help her out in the Senate!"

"I'm sure she has a droid already."

"Yeah, but mine will be smarter," Anakin chirped, shaking a wrench at the Master. The broken, degraded frame of a humanoid droid was laid out before the young Jedi. The thing was beyond repair, the innards looked ancient, and Qui-Gon thought that it was better suited for a trash heap on some forgotten planet. If anyone could fix it, could make it worth fixing, it was Anakin.

"Where did you find this piece of rust?"

"It's a masterpiece!"

"It's starting an electric fire, Anakin." The Padawan's eyes shot to the wires of the neck, the things sparking and smoking as small fires began to burn in the chest cavity. R2 activated it's thrusters, flew over a heap of scrap, and activated a fire extinguisher, spraying the broken droid and Anakin with foam.

"Alright, okay, enough, R2, stop it!" The droid beeped and whistled in response, and the Padawan frowned. "Ha, ha, you're funny! This isn't an improvement, it's a mess!" More beeping, and Anakin flushed. "Look, I know I make messes, but...wait, why am I explaining myself to you?!"

"You are going to clean this up before we sleep, aren't you?" the Master drawled, and Anakin nodded. "It is getting late enough as it is."

"I'll make sure your half of the room is clear," Anakin said swiftly, his hands busy fiddling inside the droid, removing things that were broken beyond repair and searching the scrap piles for things he could use to replace them. Qui-Gon sighed, lifting his hand and the scraps and broken droid rose into the air, and he moved it over to Anakin's bed and unceremoniously dropped them, the heavy pieces bouncing off the soft mattress. "Oh, come on, was that really necessary, Master?"

"Anakin Skywalker, I am an old man, and we have been traveling all day. I'm tired."

"Oh, come on, Master, you're not that old! You're perfectly spry!"

"You aren't winning any points, my young Padawan. Build your droid, but please, keep it down."

"Yes, Master!"

Qui-Gon sighed, watching the teen for a moment before he shed his heavy cloak, unbuckled his belt and removed his tunic. He carefully folded the garments, placing his lightsaber on top of the pile and laid them on a nearby desk, his fingers ever so lightly running over the dark, deep scar on the right side of his strong stomach, a physical reminded of how close he had come to death that day on Naboo. He was just about to crawl into the large, comfortable bed when his comlink began to beep, and the Master had to fumble through his folded robes for his belt, pulling the device out and answering the call. The hologram before him displayed the image of a very wet, very pleased Quinlan Vos.

Upon seeing the old Master, Quinlan's already foolish grin became wider and more foolish. "Master Qui-Gon! I'm so glad I caught you while you were indecent! Are you with the Senator? Your Padawan?!"

"Anakin is here, yes."

Quinlan was beaming, and even through the hologram, Qui-Gon could see the tracker's face light up. "Oh Force! Hold on, let me get comfortable! Qui-Gon Jinn, I will give you anything you want if I can watch you two kiss!"

"...what! Quinlan, no!"

"Don't like being watched?" Quinlan purred, crossing his arms over his chest, his thick cloak soaked with water. "Don't worry, I get it."

"I'm not sleeping with my Padawan!"

"Riiiiight..." the Kiffar drawled, his eyebrow waggling suggestively. "You're sleeping on him!"

"I give up. How Obi-Wan handled you for an entire year, I'll never know..."

"He sure did handle me..."

"Quinlan!"

"He said that to me a lot."

"I imagine so..." Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose, observing the other Master. "I know I will regret asking this, but why are you soaking?"

"Alright, get this. I had a fight with a bounty hunter in the rain! Kriffing hell, it rains a lot on Kamino, I don't think it ever stops!"

"Wait, you're on Kamino?" Qui-Gon nearly dropped the datapad, fumbling with it for a moment and putting it on the desk. Even Anakin looked up, his hands absently working on the droid while he focused on the image of the Kiffar.

"Uh, yeah. I said I was going. You're not going to believe what's here, Qui-Gon. The Council won't either. That's why I called you, I..." Realization dawned on the Kiffar. "Oh, that's why I contacted you." He frowned. "Damn it, Qui-Gon, it's your fault for distracting me, you sexy son of a bitch!"

"Your out of control libido is not my responsibility. What's on Kamino."

Quinlan removed the heavy, wet cloak and shivered, rubbing his arms and trying to warm up. "Cloners. The Kaminoans are cloners, and damn good ones. They've made an army, Qui-Gon. All clones based on your Mandalorian assassin friend."

"An army?" he asked softly to nobody in particular. "What could they want with an army?"

"Nothing. They made it for the Republic."

"...what?" Qui-Gon felt the floor fall out from under him and he held his breath, his swift mind trying to connect the dots, struggling to make sense of the pieces he had that fit nothing else. "How is this possible? Did the Senate quietly commission an army?"

The hologram flickered. "No. These clones were commissioned by a Jedi. Master Sifo-Dyas. I pretended to know him, but I don't know him."

"I knew him," Qui-Gon said swiftly, his previous fatigue gone. "Master Sifo-Dyas died over ten years ago when his ship went down."

"Could he have commissioned this army? The Kaminoans say he commissioned the army for the Republic, but...Master, if it was over ten years ago, that was before the assault on Naboo, wasn't it?"

"Yes..." Qui-Gon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, remembering the dead Master as best he could. Any information he had may help the Kiffar in his mission. "Master Sifo-Dyas was on the Jedi High Council, but he was dismissed because of his...extreme views."

"Which were those?"

"...you have an unusual gift, Quinlan. Psychometry is rare, and were you not such a playboy, you'd find yourself on the Council because of your ability. Sifo-Dyas was in a similar situation, but his talent was the gift of foresight. They say he foresaw the galaxy at war, and he believed the Republic would need an army if it was going to survive." Qui-Gon took a deep breath and held it. "...I didn't think he'd actually do it."

"Well, that solves that mystery," Quinlan drawled. "But it does get worse. The Kaminoans have been in contact with someone recently that claims to be affiliated with the Republic. And he was here yesterday."

"Who?!"

Quinlan shrugged. "There isn't a thing I haven't touched around here, and I get flashes of...something. I can't see what it is, or who it is, but it's there. Obi-Wan was sure there's a Sith Lord in the Senate, and I'm beginning to really believe it."

The old Master closed his eyes, breathing deep and even. "This calls a lot of what we know into question. We have been assuming Dooku is Sith, but-"

"He is Sith, Qui-Gon. He killed Obi-Wan."

"Yes, I know." The old Master took a deep, frustrated breath. The more they learned, the less the pieces fit, the less sense any of this made. "If the Sith Master is in the Senate, why would Dooku be at the head of the Separatists?"

"Maybe he's breaking away," Quinlan said swiftly, shrugging and wringing out his hair. "Maybe he's had enough of his Master and is looking to kill him. I mean, that's sort of what the Sith do, isn't it?"

"I suppose..." Qui-Gon looked over at Anakin. The young Jedi had abandoned his work on the droid for the time being and was paying rapt attention to the datapad in his hand. "That may account for the Negotiator. He's been working with the Separatists for a long while. Maybe Dooku has been training him to be his apprentice when the current Master is dead."

"Maybe the Master is dead. Maybe Dooku is looking to take this army for himself."

Qui-Gon scowled, crossed his arms over his bare chest, his quick mind running over every possibility they had discussed and all the ones they did not, but he quickly realized the attempt was pointless. There were too many possibilities, and they knew just enough to make speculation possible, but just little enough to reach any reasonable conclusion. "We're talking in circles. The path of the Sith remains elusive to us. We're just going to have to trust the Force to bring the answers to us in time."

Quinlan groaned loudly. "Oh, come on! That's what the Council's going to say to me, I don't need to hear it from you too!"

"There are too many factors at work here, Quin." The Kiffar smiled gently, his features softening considerably. Obi-Wan used to call him that. He liked that nickname. "We have to consider Dooku's role in all of this, the supposed Sith Master in the Senate, the kriffing Negotiator. It brings everything we know into question. I don't like this anymore than you're going to, but we need to go back to the beginning and reconsider what Obi-Wan discovered as well."

"...you're right, I don't like that."

"But we need to. If we don't look at this from every angle, consider every possibility, than the Sith will have us before we can figure out what is happening."

"Everything Obi-Wan discovered was kept on his datapad, and as you know, that was lost on Serenno, along with everything else." The Kiffar crossed his arms, a stubborn frown on his face. "But it makes sense if we assume he was right. Everything makes sense if we accept he was correct. I mean..." Quinlan's eyes shifted, his features softening as he considered his words. "Everything fits...except the stuff that doesn't..." The Kiffar growled in irritation. "I wasn't made for puzzling things out, Qui-Gon! Kriffing Hell, this is why I had Obi-Wan!"

"Perhaps we should focus on what we do know," Qui-Gon said softly, and the Kiffar nodded in agreement. "Let the Council talk circles around this."

"It is what they're best at..."

"You said the clones are based on the assassin you were pursuing. Are you certain of this?"

Quinlan nodded, a sly smirk coming to his face, happy to be back into the realm of hard evidence and no speculation. "You bet. It's him. He's the clone template, he's been living here for...well, over ten years, I suspect."

"Do you have him in custody?"

The Kiffar scoffed. "No, of course not." Qui-Gon looked immensely disappointed, and Vos couldn't help but feel like he had disappointed his father. The old Master was worse than anything the Council could throw at him. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that! It was raining and wet and his ship was already on when I started to give chase! Not to mention his stupid clone baby that he had running after him! The kriffing thing was firing rockets! At me! I've never been so offended! Except for that one time-"

"You lost him..." Qui-Gon bemoaned, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"I didn't lose him, Qui-Gon, he just got away!" When the older Master glared at him, Quinlan threw his hands up defensively. "Hey, have a little faith in me, would you! I didn't just let him go, I threw tracker on his ship! And I'm in his room right now tearing it to bits, see?" Quinlan turned the comlink around, allowing Qui-Gon a view of the room that had been unceremoniously torn to absolute pieces, just as the Kiffar had said. The mischievous Master came back into view. "I wanted to contact you first before I really got into looking at his junk, but if he somehow notices that he's being traced, I should be able to find him anyway. If this guy is working for the Sith Master, or Dooku, or whoever, that's where he'll go. You don't just take your clone brat and fly unless you've got a place to go."

"...nicely done." He sighed. "I apologize for before, Quinlan, I shouldn't have been frustrated with you."

The Kiffar shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Mm, I imagine you are."

"Master?" Anakin said hesitantly, his voice wavering with nerves, and Qui-Gon looked away from the other Master. "You need to see this," the Padawan said slowly, his voice hushed as if he were telling a secret. When his Master sighed, looked like he would object, he quickly cut in with "Dooku's giving a speech."

"...Quinlan, I need to go. Good luck with your investigation."

"I don't need luck, Qui-Gon, I'm good." With a cocky smirk, Quinlan cut the com, and Master Jinn came to quickly stand behind his Padawan, dark blue eyes focused on the datapad in his hand.

It was bad. Amazingly bad. Dooku was a brilliant speaker, a talented leader, a skilled and commanding presence, and he was in rare form here as he addressed the newly minted Confederacy of Independent Systems, the man decrying the Republic as ineffective, corrupt, and greedy. He claimed that the Senate held on to planets and systems as if they were owned, slaves to the illusion of democracy and freedom when they, in fact, had none, and this was no more apparent than in how the Separatists were treated when they desired to be free. They were met with violence. With the denial of their freedom. With the Senate desperately trying to hold on to worlds that desired to break away.

He pointed to the recent tragedy at Antar 4, where the peaceful Gotal were attacked by the brutal Jedi Order, who had abandoned their commitment to peace. He pointed to the bill in the Senate that would raise a Republic army against those that desired freedom. Dooku made the Separatists out to be peaceful, committed to freedom and independence, while the Republic tightened a slaver's grasp on the galaxy, and he drove his point home when he pointed to the black cloaked, hooded man at his side, the peaceful Negotiator that yearned to free the galaxy from the corruption of the Senate, and he did so without violence, a commitment to peace that embodied the Confederacy. It was time to begin anew, Dooku said. It was time for the Republic to let them go. War could still be avoided, and any system could follow suit, join the Confederacy when they were ready to be rid of their chains.

"This isn't good..." Qui-Gon whispered, his hand gripping the back of Anakin's chair tightly.

"Master, will the Senate vote in favor of the army? They can't now, not after this."

There was a loud, piercing scream out in the halls, and the Jedi jumped up to see what the trouble was, but the door swung open before they could leave, the panting, wrathful Padmé Amidala standing in the doorway. "Are you watching this?!"

"Yes, we just saw it," Anakin said swiftly, holding up his datapad. "Dooku's really raising the stakes, huh?"

"He has an army! How could he even pretend to be committed to peace?!" She stalked into the room, avoiding the heaps and heaps of scrap on Anakin's side and she threw herself on Qui-Gon's bed. "...we need someone like their Negotiator. I have tried to be like that, I really have, but he's just...better at it." She sighed, covering her face with her hands. "Maybe I'm just too young."

"I don't think that's true," Anakin said softly, and Qui-Gon nodded beside him.

"The Negotiator may not be what he seems, Senator Amidala." The girl rolled her eyes.

"I know you Jedi don't trust him, but you have no cause to. He's peaceful, Qui-Gon, he's doing what you Jedi should be doing."

"Wait, hold on!" Anakin said sharply, rising from his chair. "That isn't fair, Padmé, the Jedi are doing all we can! We can't be held responsible for when things go wrong on missions the Senate sends us on!"

"What, this is our fault now?" Padmé hissed, rising to her feet and glaring at the teen. "The Jedi have been going around crying Sith Lord at anything that offends them! Sith Lords in the Senate, Dooku is a Sith Lord, the Negotiator is a Sith Lord! Do you see what this looks like?!"

"Listen," Anakin snarled, striding to stand before the angry Senator, but Qui-Gon's strong hand shot out and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him back down into his chair.

"You will calm yourself, Anakin," the Master hissed, and his sharp blue eyes darted to the Senator. "And you. Sit." Padmé held her breath, her wide eyes shocked, and she slowly lowered herself back onto the bed. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, his bare chest slowly rising and falling as he touched the Force, surrendering his emotions and allowing calm to settle over him. "This," he finally said softly, "is exactly what Dooku aims to do. He wants to tear us apart, and this is how he's going to do this. It isn't with his actions, it's with his words. They are poison, each and every one of them. If we cannot be united, than the Separatists have already won." Neither of the young people said anything, they just bowed their heads. "Anakin." The Padawan looked up at his Master. "Apologize."

"B-but-"

"No," Padmé said softly, her brown eyes averted from the Jedi. "I started this. I'm sorry, really I am, I just..."

"Everything's just gone wrong, right?" Anakin said softly, and the Senator nodded. "None of this should be happening. The Invasion of Naboo, the return of the Sith, the Separatist Crisis, the Sithkiller's death...all of it is just...wrong. The Force is out of balance. We need to set it right."

"We can't just balance the Force, Anakin," Qui-Gon said softly. "The Force is its own living, breathing thing. All we can do is follow its course. In time, it will show us the way so that we may aid in its balance. This isn't something you can just fix."

"But the Sith are forcing it out of balance! How can we follow the Force when it is turbulent and clouded?"

"It always finds a way to speak to us. Close your eyes and listen, Just because there is darkness doesn't mean all is darkness."

Anakin said nothing. He just nodded, bowed his head and contemplated his Master, the Force, and everything that had been happening. "Qui-Gon?" Padmé said softly, and the tall man looked at her, his dark blue eyes weary. "What would it mean if the Negotiator was what you believe?"

"It would mean he is using the Force to bend people to his will. They come to his side because they are being made to."

"...like your Jedi mind trick?" The dark blue eyes sharpened and looked the small woman over.

"How do you know about that?"

"Obi-Wan taught me a little about the Force. He showed me."

"Showed you?"

"Yes," she affirmed, nodding and keeping her intense gaze locked with the Master's. "He said he had been practicing. He said..." She bit her lip, searching her memory for the images of her Jedi protector. "He said a Jedi could use the Force to influence someone, but it doesn't work on strong willed or very smart people."

"That is true..."

"But he also said that if you push hard enough, even the intelligent and strong-willed will comply."

"Well, yes, but-"

"He did it to me."

Qui-Gon was at a loss for words, didn't know he was holding his breath until his chest began to ache. Obi-Wan did that? His Obi-Wan? It didn't seem possible. Force suggestion was one thing, gently influencing someone who was open to persuasion to believe something else, and it was a valuable tool of the Jedi. Qui-Gon himself was a practitioner of it, and he used it regularly to avoid conflict when necessary. He had taught Obi-Wan how to do it as well, and the boy was talented, but...

It wasn't like the studious, quiet and cautious Obi-Wan to push hard at any living thing, and that he managed to succeed doing it to Padmé, who wasn't in the least weak willed, was startling. Slowly, he shook his head. "That is...unlike him."

"Well, I did ask him to show me. He actually used me to get me to stop asking." She shrugged. "It didn't last for long, and I knew he did it. He said the effect wouldn't last because I was too strong to be influenced." She frowned, looking at the distressed older man. Even she could feel his unease, and she thought she may have known why. "Qui-Gon. If the Negotiator is what you seem to believe, than how is he doing what he is? If the Force can sway only the suggestible, than he shouldn't be able to do any of this. People don't rise to power by being easily swayed or stupid."

"The Negotiator isn't using the Force, Padmé, he's abusing it." His cold, dark blue eyes locked with hers, and the Senator shivered. "The Force is a living, breathing thing, but he has weaponized it. This Jedi mind trick, as you like to call it, is a tool of the Jedi, a natural, easy use of the Force, but that isn't what he's doing. He isn't suggesting, he is dominating. Obi-Wan pushed slightly too hard with you, and for a moment, you did as he asked. The Negotiator is doing exactly that, but on a much grander scale."

"...he and I both agreed that this power was dangerous in the wrong hands."

"And it is in the wrong hands, Padmé."

She took a deep breath, looked over her two Jedi guardians, and smiled sadly. "I suppose calling to meet with him may not be the best idea."

"That would be extremely ill-advised. I doubt he'd even agree to it."

"...Master?" Both pairs of eyes drifted to Anakin, the teen's face smiling deviously the way it always did when he struck on an idea, and nine times out of ten, those ideas were reckless, foolish, extremely dangerous and indisputably brilliant. "I think that might be an excellent idea."

"...you want to meet with the Negotiator." Qui-Gon said slowly, deadpan, as if he could not believe the words he was hearing. "Anakin, you understand that this man is likely a Sith Lord."

"I know. Hear me out." He took a deep breath, his bright blue eyes shooting to Padmé, her face interested and listening, and he found his strength to continue. "The Senate asks to meet with him to discuss terms. He's probably going to deny us, which makes him look like a hypocrite. It can discredit him and the Separatists."

"That's an awful plan, Anakin," Qui-Gon said swiftly. "What if he agrees? We would be welcoming the Negotiator into the heart of the Republic, he'd destroy us."

"If he comes to us, we do it on neutral ground, with conditions. The Jedi must be present, and...a-and he must be in a containment field."

Qui-Gon frowned. "We can't do that, Anakin."

"What's a containment field?" Padmé asked softly.

"It's an extremely expensive device that's used to hold Force users. It effectively disrupts our connection to the Force. And it's can be used for torture."

"But we won't do that!"

"We may not, Anakin. Others will not be so kind."

"Well, he's Sith, isn't he? Does he really deserve kindness?"

"Anakin!"

"I'm not certain the Negotiator is what you say," Padmé said softly, crossing her arms. "I like the idea of meeting with him. Under heavy guard, of course, but I think we should call him out. Dooku's speech has given the Republic a chance to respond, and I think we should respond with negotiations." She nodded, pleased with herself. "I'm going to draft up the proposal."

"Padmé, please-"

"Qui-Gon. If there's a chance for peace, we must try. The Jedi will protect us, won't they?"

Qui-Gon hung his head. "...of course, Senator Amidala." She smiled, and left the room, and there was silence.

"...Master-"

"Don't, Anakin." Qui-Gon dropped onto his bed, burying his face in his hands. This was like his last mission guarding royalty, but with less dirt. Like Satine, Padmé was an idealist. Unlike Obi-Wan, however, Anakin was an enabler. Obi-Wan had challenged Satine, debated with her frequently, argued with her often, and his pragmatism and logic clashed with her lofty ideals, and at the end of the day, they came away with a view that was reasonable and benefitted the most people. It was the perfect combination of fire and ice, and they balanced each other.

Anakin wasn't like that. Like Padmé, the boy was idealistic and passionate, and the two together was like adding fuel to a fire that already burned too hot.

"...Master?"

"Work on your droid or go to bed, Anakin."

"...would the Negotiator try anything in the presence of Master Yoda?"

"I don't know. I don't know the Negotiator, we don't know anything about him."

"...we know he's smart, Master."

Qui-Gon breathed deeply, laying back on the bed and shutting his eyes. "Let's pretend this absolutely asinine idea somehow happens. The Negotiator is smart, yes. Frightfully so. You may think he will not show up, but I disagree. He's smart enough to sense a trap. He will show up to save face."

"Then we get him!"

"And then the Republic is vilified. We offered a branch of peace, but held a blaster in the other hand. If he agrees to the meeting, he will be completely safe. As you said, he is smart, but he is also bold. He would trust that he would be safe, and he would be."

"W-well, if we can't trap him, we can still disrupt his connection to the Force!"

"No, we can't. A containment field-"

"What if it's not a containment field? What if we build a room. A whole room that can block the Force."

"...maybe."

"And as you said, he's smart. He wouldn't try anything in the presence of Master Yoda, he's too strong, even for him."

Qui-Gon inhaled deeply, his bare chest rising and falling with each even breath. "...I will consider your ideas, Anakin." The Padawan smiled and returned to working on the droid, but rest would not take Qui-Gon Jinn. His mind was disturbed by thoughts of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Negotiator. There was so much he didn't know about his former Padawan, and the more he learned, the more uneasy he felt. And the Negotiator, hidden in shadows, seemed to be drawing closer. The man was nearly within reach, and if the Jedi played their cards right, they may have a chance to meet their enemy and learn about him.