Chapter 17: The Tuscans

AN: I hate a lot of things about how they handled certain things in Attack of the Clones. Like the bloody Tuscans. So I'm fixing that too.

There was pain. Lots of it. Suffering and agony like he had never known before, and for just a moment, Anakin Skywalker saw the face of his mother. He awoke with a loud, anguished cry, his heart pounding in his cheat and his breathing sharp, ragged, so fast he nearly hyperventilated, and it took the comforting hand of his Master to get the Padawan breathing properly.

"What happened?" Qui-Gon asked softly, his voice calming and smooth, and Skywalker tightly grabbed the Master's arm.

"...a nightmare, Master. That's all. It just..." Anakin ran a hand through his hair and down his body, faint traces of pain still burning his skin. "It was so real."

"Was it a nightmare, or a vision?"

"...I-I don't know."

Qui-Gon sat on the Padawan's bed, grabbing the teen's hands in his own. "Meditate with me. Open your mind, think of this dream, show me what you saw."

Anakin nodded and did as he was told, but he could not focus. His blood was racing, his heart pounding, his mind distracted, and though he was failing terribly to calm himself, his Master remained serene, patient, and it gave Anakin strength. Eventually, he felt his entire being relax and calm, and he felt his Force connection with Qui-Gon light up as the Master entered his mind. The Padawan focused on the dream, bringing the images to his mind, and he soon found himself in pain again, trying his best to hang on to the images so his Master could look, but his panic became too great after a very short time. Qui-Gon was forced from his mind as Anakin instinctively threw up his mental defenses to protect him from the pain.

But it was enough. Qui-Gon's hand grabbed Anakin's shoulder, his kind face concerned. "A Force vision," the Master said softly. "It's not a vision of the future, it's an empathetic connection through the Force. It's happening right now."

Fear gripped the Padawan, and for just a moment, he felt the Force that surrounded him become veined with cold. His Master's comforting presence quickly cleared it, though. "My mother was in that vision, Master, does that mean she-"

"Yes." The Padawan's clear blue eyes widened in abject horror, and Qui-Gon stood from the bed and grabbed his pack, throwing his neatly folded robes inside and pulling a tunic over his head. "We need to go."

"W-what?"

"Get dressed, we're leaving." Qui-Gon fastened his belt and clipped his lightsaber on. "If something is wrong, we need to be there. It's important to you, and it's important to me."

Anakin bit his lip and looked gratefully to his Master. He wanted to thank him, but his throat was tight and trembling, and no words could pass from his lips. He got up and dressed quickly. "What about Padmé, Master?" he asked quietly, his hands nervously grabbing at things to put in his bag. He didn't have much, but his anxiety was making him uncertain of what was actually his.

"We are supposed to guard Padmé," Qui-Gon said sternly. "She's coming with us, of course."

"...why?" The Master's dark blue eyes narrowed, and Anakin blushed deeply. "No, I mean...Master, why are you doing this?"

"...I've never shied from the call of the Force, Anakin. If the Force sent you a vision, than we must follow the will of the Force." The Master found the air squeezed out of him as the Padawan wrapped his arms about him in a crushing hug.

"...thank you..."

"Hush. Go wake Padmé, tell her we are leaving." The Padawan didn't waste a second running from the room. Qui-Gon sighed, taking in the living space that he and Anakin had shared for the past week. The droid the teen had been working on was nearly done, all it's innards replaced and working. All he had left to do was find the proper outer plating, but the creation was functioning. The Senator, of course, had loved it, kissed the Padawan's cheek when he presented it to her, and the boy seemed to be floating on air for the next few days.

Qui-Gon found it to be an anxious, pessimistic and irritating thing, but Padmé seemed to like it, and, he supposed, that was what mattered. After all, it was a gift for her. The two young people had grown quite close in their week together, and Qui-Gon watched in satisfaction as an easy friendship developed between them. It was...true that occasionally the Master found them lightly brushing against each other as they passed, gentle touches of fingers on arms or hands as they spoke, furtive, secret glances when they thought nobody was looking, but Qui-Gon was always watching.

Nothing had happened, not yet, but the call of duty could only hold attraction back for so long. It had happened with Obi-Wan, and it was happening with Anakin now. Sith Hells, it had happened to Qui-Gon as well, and he was never one to stand in the way of things if they were meant to be. Anakin was emotional, much more than a normal Jedi, but he would never be a normal Jedi. He could still be balanced, and the boy knew he needed his Master's guidance to succeed. He wasn't humble, no, but he was grateful, and that went a long way.

Anakin rushed back into the room, his anxiety making the Force about him shift to unbalance. "Master, she's getting ready, and she's not happy about being woken up so early."

"No, I imagine not. I'm going to get the ship ready. I want you to clean this room up. I want it looking the way it did when we arrived." The Padawan looked like he would object, but Qui-Gon held his hand up to silence him. "I suspect the Senator will take her time to get ready. Be at ease, Anakin. We will be on our way soon." The Padawan nodded and quickly set to his task while the Master went to prepare the ship for the flight to Tatooine.

The Lars homestead was in a state of panic when the Jedi arrived. Owen had quickly found his brother and hugged him tightly, tried to be brave and stern and act like a man, but his voice was cracking with emotion and grief and fear. The Tuscan's had raided, and in their attack, they had made off with Shmi Skywalker. Owen and Cliegg had managed to fend off most of the raiding party, keeping them mostly away from the valuable vaporators, but in the end, they had found that the Tuscans managed to grab Anakin's mother from right under their noses.

Qui-Gon didn't understand the sand people of Tatooine. Nobody did. They were ruthless and brutal, though the Jedi Master thought that there must have been some reason for their actions that went beyond the primitive need to destroy the settlers that lived scattered about the desert. But still, kidnaping a middle-aged woman seemed pointless and random, certainly beyond their usual method of simply sweeping in and killing all they saw. The Jedi didn't understand. He must have been missing something.

While Anakin was off with Owen to fret and worry, Qui-Gon and Padmé were met by Owen's girlfriend, a homely, kind-faced woman named Beru. She had recently moved into the homestead to help with the moisture farming after one of their maintenance droids took a turn for the worst, and it was beyond Owen's knowledge to repair it. She was fretting, her face concerned, her hands tightly winding the strings of her apron around her hand until her fingers turned red and purple from lack of circulation. She bowed deeply when the towering Jedi and the small, well-dressed Senator approached. Qui-Gon bowed in return.

"Owen was speaking very quickly when he took Anakin away, so my understanding of what has happened here is limited," the Jedi said softly, and the young woman averted her eyes. "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn. You are?"

"B-beru," she stammered softly. "I've heard all about you, Master Jedi. From Owen."

"I'm afraid there's not much to say. What has happened here?"

The woman bit her lip, her eyes wetting with tears, and Qui-Gon reached out to lay a calming hand on her shoulder. Sniffling, she stuttered, "Shmi was taken in the raid. Cliegg rounded up a rescue party of thirty men to go get her, but-" Her voice hitched with a sob. "Only four came back. Cliegg lost his leg, he's-"

"Is he alright?" Qui-Gon asked swiftly, and the woman shrugged. Without another moment, the Jedi rushed into the small farming house, making a beeline for the room he knew belonged to the Lars family patriarch. Twenty six men were dead, and one woman, maybe more, had been taken from their homes, but there was nothing he could do about that right now. He could, however, help the man that had saved Anakin's mother from slavery.

He was laid out on the bed, bloody rags and cloth everywhere as a physician attended the unconscious moisture farmer. The wound was bad. He swiftly approached the bed and knelt by the leg, crudely severed at the knee, and the doctor glared at the Jedi, about to object to the intrusion before Qui-Gon cut in with, "I'm a Jedi Knight, I have some knowledge in Force healing. May I?" The physician was wary, but he nodded, and Qui-Gon laid his hands on the farmer's leg, channeling the Force while the doctor continued to work.

Beru stood in the doorway, watching with rapt interest as the Jedi and the doctor worked, and slowly, Qui-Gon could feel the farmer's presence in the Force stabilize, evening out as the stub of his leg was tightly wrapped. Cliegg would be fine. He sighed, standing and quickly thanked the physician before he left the room, gently grabbing Beru's arm and guiding her away.

"Will he be alright?" she asked softly, and the Jedi nodded.

"In time, yes. I'll see if I can't have Anakin make something to help with his mobility. He has a talent with-"

"Owen's told me all about Anakin, yes," she smiled softly, her hands trembling, and Qui-Gon carefully took them in his hand. "Thank you. I'm...glad you came. And so quickly."

"When did this happen?"

"Last night." Qui-Gon frowned. Anakin's Force sense was distressingly accurate. He'd have to help the boy work through the intense feelings that could come through empathetic visions. These things could lead quickly to the Dark Side. He'd have to ask Quinlan for help when he had apprehended the assassin. The Kiffar Master dealt with darker emotions often through his use of psychometry, and his own personal experience could help Anakin.

"Beru, do you know why the Tuscans would do this?" The woman shook her head, sniffling.

"They're just...savages This is what they do."

"They kidnap?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. I don't know why."

Qui-Gon could hear a speeder powering on, the engines engaging as the thrusters roared, and the high pitched thrum of the rupulsors crescendoed and then quickly began to fade. Rushing out of the home, the Jedi Master saw the silhouette of a speeder as it disappeared over the sand dunes into the setting of the twin suns. Anakin had left. The Master didn't move from his spot in the sand, looking out in the direction the speeder had gone. He had a very bad feeling about this. There was...cold. A faint chill in the Force that made the Master shiver. This was...exactly what Obi-Wan had described so long ago when they faced the Sith, the same feeling that Qui-Gon had felt as well when he stood in the presence of the Apprentice on Naboo.

The Jedi Master activated his com and tried to reach Anakin, but the boy did not pick up. Qui-Gon rushed back to the home and ran to the garage, but there was nothing but broken droids and spare parts for the valuable vaporatos. He tried again to contact Anakin, but there was nothing. The Jedi could hear Beru calling for Owen, her voice becoming more and more frantic as her calls went unanswered, and Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief. Anakin had brought his step-brother with him. It wasn't that Qui-Gon didn't trust Anakin, but he was young, emotional, impulsive, reckless. With family there to protect, even if they discovered the worst, it may keep the boy grounded. Owen was a cautious, reasonable sort. Perhaps Anakin would follow suit.

There was nothing to be done but trust that the Force would guide his Padawan down the right path. The Jedi dragged his feet to the kitchen and dropped into a chair at the table, Beru and Padmé both talking in hushed tones as they fretted over the safety of the boys that they discovered had left without a word.

Padmé rushed to Qui-Gon, sitting opposite him at the table, her brown eyes focused and intense. "What do we do," she demanded, and the Jedi sighed.

"We...wait."

"Wait?! How can we wait, we have a ship! We can follow him!"

"It's dark out, Padmé, we wouldn't be able to find a single speeder out there, and we certainly couldn't find the Tuscan encampment. Your Nubian cruiser isn't exactly meant for low altitudes, and I doubt anyone but Anakin could pull off the feat."

"We can't just stay here! Anakin could be in danger, what if he's hurt?"

"He's in no danger of being hurt," Qui-Gon said softly, pressing his fingers together, and his whole body tensed, startled when his comlink beeped. He answered it quickly, pressing the flashing button to get the holographic feed, and his heart sank when he saw it wasn't Anakin.

"Quinlan..." Qui-Gon said softly, and the Kiffar hushed him.

"Not so loud. I'm hiding."

"...you called when you are trying to hide? Are you an idiot?"

"Well...yes." The tracker shot a furtive glance over his shoulder, freezing in his place, and then turned back to address the Master. "I've tracked your assassin to Geonosis. We were spot on, this guy is working for Dooku, or the Separatists, or whatever. That Senator of yours must be doing something right since they want her dead. Tell her to keep it up."

Padmé grinned. "I will!"

"What, is she there too?" Qui-Gon nodded, and the Kiffar grinned. "Hello, Senator. You keep up the good work. I'm-" There was a loud screeching and the sound of blaster fire, and the Jedi pressed himself low to the ground, only the top of his head visible in the hologram. "I'm going to do my best to get this asshole, Jinn, but if we're being really honest, that's not going to happen. Bastard destroyed my ship."

"Quinlan, find a way to get out," Qui-Gon said slowly, his voice serious and his proud features drawn in concern. "You can track the assassin again, this isn't worth your life."

"We're a bit past that point. Dooku's here, along with the entire Separatist Council. I'm going to blow up the compound."

Qui-Gon stared at the com in disbelief. "...what?"

The Kiffar crouched, his head disappearing from the hologram and reappearing a moment later. "There's a droid foundry here, a massive one, and it's running at full tilt. There are thousands of them being made right now, and I ran past a hanger bay. They're manufacturing warships. Huge ones. Dreadnaught class heavy cruisers, Jinn. They're absolutely full of it when they said they want peace. This is a fleet ready for war." He grinned. "I'm going to blow the whole thing up. With no Separatist leadership, there will be no war."

"Quinlan, you can't just-"

"Sure I can. That Sith bastard killed my friend. He's done."

"Revenge isn't-"

"No, it's not the Jedi way, it's my way," Quinlan growled, but the anger quickly faded. "The Sith needs to die anyway. I want to be the one that does it. For Obi-Wan. Tell the Council what's happening here in case I fail."

"Tell them yourself, Quinlan, get out!"

"I'll try, but..." He looked up again, and then looked back to the com, a smirk on his face, but his eyes showed concern. "I'm in the Pentranaki region. Send for help. Please. This planet sucks, I don't want to die here."

He held the Kiffar's gaze for what seemed like an eternity before Qui-Gon nodded. "We're coming for you, Quinlan. Just hold on." Master Vos grinned widely, ignited his lightsaber, and the com cut, the high pitched, electronic whine of the cut transmission deafening to the Master.

"What do we do?" Padmé asked softly. "If a Jedi dies on Geonosis, the Republic is going to go nuts, especially if they can link this to the Separatists."

"I'm going to contact the Council," Qui-Gon droned. "Pray Anakin returns soon. If he's not back by morning, I'm going to have to leave without him." He didn't wait for the Senator to answer. He just stood from his seat and left the house for the ship. Hopefully this time, the Council would take swift action.

The speeder arrived just before dawn. Qui-Gon and Padmé had been waiting outside all night, the Senator drifting off to sleep every now and again, but Qui-Gon remained vigilant. The Council was alarmed, of course, by Quinlan's plight, and they promised immediate action. They didn't say what Qui-Gon should do, however, and he was already resolved to mount a rescue of his own. When the speeder stopped just outside the house and Anakin jumped out of it, he looked at his Master and Padmé standing side by side, and, with a strangled sob, he ran to them, throwing his arms around Qui-Gon and sobbing uncontrollably.

"Qui-Gon, can I-" the Senator started, but the Master quickly cut her off.

"Get ready to leave. Wait on the ship." The woman looked to Anakin, briefly touched his shoulder, and went into the house to collect the few things they had brought.

Owen slowly climbed out of the speeder, reaching into the back and taking out a person tightly wrapped in cloth and rags, and Qui-Gon knew what had happened. He knew before he saw the body, before the boys had returned. The Force had trembled, and the Master had been flooded with his Padawan's pain.

"She died on the way back," Owen said softly, his voice raw, and he laid the woman outside the small house in the sand. "We did everything we could, but her wounds were too severe, we couldn't-"

"It's not fair!" Anakin snarled, his voice straining and cracking between sobs, and he clutched his Master tighter.

"Hush, Anakin, I know...it's not."

"If I was stronger-"

"Strength has nothing to do with it. All the strength in the world couldn't have helped you." The Padawan returned to his hapless sobbing, the Master's hand in his short-cut hair. "...what happened out there, Owen?"

"...we snuck into the Tuscan compound. Anakin found it. He just...knew where it was, I guess. I don't understand it."

"The Force guides his actions."

Owen shrugged. "We found her. She was...already dying. Then the Tuscans found us, and...I-I don't know. There was chaos. I-I killed two. Anakin killed six. I think one of them stabbed mother in the fight, we..." He took in a shuddering breath and calmly rubbed tears from his eyes. Anakin was watching him closely, and, taking in a shaking breath of his own, pulled away from his Master, trying his best to emulate his stoic step-brother. "The Tuscans fled when Anakin killed a big one. They let us go after that."

"We should have killed them all..." Anakin growled, his face contorted with rage, but before Qui-Gon could say anything, Owen shook his head.

"Why?"

"They killed my mother!"

"Yeah, but killing them all is what they do to us. We're better than that. We got our revenge, we did what we could. The rest were afraid. They won't come back."

"Your brother is right, Anakin," Qui-Gon said softly, and the Padawan lowered his head.

"...I know."

"...we can't stay here." Anakin looked up, his wide blue eyes filled with betrayal, but Qui-Gon stayed resolute. "Quinlan called, he's in danger. We need to go help, there's nothing more you can do here." Anakin stubbornly refused to budge, and Qui-Gon sighed. "You can stay if you like, but I need to leave."

Anakin started to say something, but was silenced when Owen quietly drawled, "He's right. You need to go," the young farmer smiled sadly, looking back at their mother wrapped in the linens. "She was so proud of you for becoming a Jedi. It's almost all she talked about. She missed you all the time, but knowing what you were doing made it worth it to her. You can't abandon that."

"I-I won't, but-"

"Mother always told you to be mindful, obey your Master, and that's what you need to do now. Please, Anakin."

The Padawan slowly nodded. "What about you?"

The young farmer's chest puffed slightly. "I...have to grow up. With father's injury, he won't be able to work anymore so...it's time to be a man." The brothers didn't say anything else. They embraced tightly for a moment, and without looking back, Anakin boarded the ship with his Master, the Padawan settling into the pilot's chair and lifting off into space.

Padmé had stopped by to say she was sorry, and if he needed anything, she was there for him. He thanked her, of course, but the words were hollow. They sat in silence for a long time, Padmé leaving to get some much needed rest and the ship entered hyperspace. It wasn't until a few hours into the trip, the blue and white of the hyperspace lane in the viewport, when Anakin quietly asked, "When does the pain stop?"

"...it doesn't." The Padawan's shoulders hitched, biting his lip as he stopped himself from sobbing again. "But it does become easier, if you allow time to heal it."

Anakin shook his head. "I've watched you struggle with your own loss, Master. The wound is new to you, even after all this time."

"I...did not handle it right. I put aside my emotions. I refused to even think about him, if I could avoid it. Your emotions aren't wrong, but...you must let go. Your mother is gone. Obi-Wan is gone. You and I...we need to accept this." He reached over and grabbed his Padawan's shaking hand. "You helped me begin to heal, Anakin. Let me do the same for you."

"...I'm sorry." Skywalker looked at his Master for a moment, but had to look away again. "For what I did. I-I know it was wrong, I-"

"It's easy to fall prey to the Dark Side. It is, I've felt its call as well after..." He took a deep breath. "A woman I loved died, and I nearly fell. I told you this."

"Yes, Master."

"What makes us Jedi is our ability to resist the call."

Anakin hung his head. "I failed then. H-how can I be a Jedi after-"

"You failed today, yes, but life tests us. Failing these tests doesn't make you Sith anymore than succeeding makes you a Jedi, it just makes you human. What matters is that you strive for success, you look to better yourself."

"...I felt so cold."

"...I know, Anakin. Let me help you, please. We can get through this together."

For the first time in two days, Anakin smiled, a warm, genuine thing. "Thank you, Master. I don't deserve you."

Qui-Gon scoffed. "Being deserving has nothing to do with it. I chose you. And I would choose you again, if it came to it."

Anakin nodded. "I...can't think about mother now, not when-" His voice cracked, but he quickly cleared his throat and pulled himself together. "Not when we need to be in tune with each other on this mission. We...need to save Quinlan. No more pain, not today."

Qui-Gon nodded. "How long before Geonosis?"

"Two hours."

"Plenty of time to center ourselves. Will you meditate with me?" The Padawan nodded, taking his Master's hand, and within moments, the two Jedi's minds were as one, perfectly in sync with each other, and Qui-Gon knew that things would be fine for young Skywalker.