Chapter 67: Transformations

The Masters tried very hard to keep the reports from Umbara confined to members of the Council, so by the next day, every Padawan in the Temple and away from Coruscant knew about it. The invasion of Umbara turned out to be one of the greatest tactical mistakes of the war. Not only did popular opinion turn against the Jedi for invading, but it also turned against the Senate for allowing it, and in the wake of the Republic's staggering loss, nearly a hundred systems left for Mandalore. The Jedi weren't concerned about that. The Jedi were concerned about the bodies.

It wasn't a battle that destroyed the Republic presence on Umbara. It was a massacre. Thousands were dead, including the Jedi General that had commanded there, and reports out of Umbara claimed that the bodies of the clones had been torn to pieces, and several had been eaten, partially or completely. This battle was not won by the technologically advanced Umbarans or the Separatist battle droids. This battle was won by beasts. Monsters out of stories that Jedi younglings told each other to scare their friends into restless nights. When rumors about this beast army began to surface, the Jedi sent their best to recover one. They came back with three.

Immediately upon their delivery, the Jedi and the Republic set their best scientists to studying the creatures, but nobody knew what to make of them. They looked like Twi'lek males, but they were far bigger than the average, slight built creatures. Despite their varied pigmentation, all of them seemed to have streaks of dark red running through their skin, and their lekku were tipped with sharp spikes, the same long, razor protrusions occurring along the spine, at the elbows, and cresting their smooth head. The scientists believed this to be some genetic variant that hailed from some unexplored world in the Outer Rim or in the Unknown Region, a territory that the Separatists had ready access to, but the Jedi came to a different conclusion based on a very recent attack.

Anakin Skywalker stood in the sterilized room with a datapad in hand, reviewing the footage of the attack on the Temple of Eedit on Devaron while Captain Tarkin stood over the dead creature, sterilized gloves on his hands as he slid a knife down the length of its torso to cut it open. Anakin trusted Tarkin, especially in matters like this. The man had grown up in the savage wilds of Eriadu, where he formed not only his brutal and efficient methods of warfare, but a keen sense for tracking the most elusive, clever of creatures and an impressive talent for survival. In short, cutting things up was second nature to the ruthless Captain.

Tarkin wrinkled his nose as he cut away the external layers of skin to allow him to see the organs underneath. He reached inside and dug up a thick, deep red, elongated organ, and Anakin turned his back to the man, looking intently at the footage. He understood the need for the dissection. He had personally requested that Tarkin be the one to complete it, but he didn't need to see the grisly sight. "I'm not intimately familiar with Twi'lek biology, Skywalker, but I'd say that these creatures are identical to them, at least superficially."

"So these are Twi'leks?"

"I should say so."

"Any chance these could be our missing Twi'leks from Ryloth?"

Tarkin dropped the organ back into the creature and looked at Anakin, a contemplative frown on his face. "Initially, I would say that is unlikely. These Twi'leks appear to have been genetically altered, and changes like this occur over generations, not over months."

"However..." Anakin began, and Tarkin rolled his eyes.

"However," the Captain continued, "with changes this severe, one would expect to see differences in their internal makeup, or some variation at least, but these are Twi'lek. I suspect that these specimens will match biological records the Senate keeps on the species." He looked over the creature on the table, reached out and grabbed the long, thin spine that protruded from his elbow, observed the sharp claws on his light green hand. "I think you will find that these are our missing Twi'leks."

That settled it for Anakin. "And what about this creature?" he asked, holding up the datapad, and the Captain took off his bloody gloves, discarded them, and took the device from Anakin, watching with interest at the recorded massacre. It was a Zabrak, his skin a rare shade of golden yellow, the cranial horns of his species elongated into sharp, wicked barbs that could easily and fatally impale a creature upon them. What was most startling, however, was his massive size, the comparison between him and the uniformed clones putting him at over seven feet tall, which dwarfed the Zabrak six foot average. Tarkin slowly looked back at the dissected Twi'lek.

"I cannot say for certain, Skywalker, but these creatures almost certainly come from a similar process. There are more alterations done to the Twi'lek, but..."

"But you agree that these have both been changed, and I think I know how." He quickly swiped the screen of the datapad to clear the footage and pulled up another, this one of the security recordings on Toydaria which showed the same massive creature. Only this time, instead of the huge, cleaving pole axe from the massacre on Devaron, he was wielding a double bladed red lightsaber. This creature was Sith. Tarkin frowned as he watched the Zabrak coldly kill dozens, though Anakin knew that the Captain wasn't looking so serious because he was disturbed. Tarkin was merely concentrating.

"You believe this to be the work of your rogue Jedi?"

"I keep telling you, Tarkin, he's not a Jedi!" The Captain simply rolled his eyes. "But yes, I think it's the only thing that makes sense. If you agree the Zabrak and the Twi'lek are somehow related, than we're looking at some sort of Dark Side...thing."

Tarkin arched an eyebrow. "Eloquent as always, sir."

"Shut up, Tarkin." Skywalker snatched the datapad from his superior looking Captain and stuffed it into the folds of his robes, muttering curses at the man under his breath. "I know you don't know anything about the Force, but using the Dark Side changes a person, not just who they are, but physically as well." Anakin held his head up high. "I know you haven't been that close to a Sith Lord before, Tarkin, but they've got glowing yellow eyes. It's a physical change that happens to them if they dig too deeply into darkness."

Tarkin considered this for a moment before he looked Anakin square in the face and plainly stated, "No they don't."

"...excuse me?!"

"I've seen holovids of Dooku's speeches. You say he's a Sith Lord, right?"

"He is a Sith Lord."

"Well, he doesn't have yellow eyes."

Anakin clenched his fist tightly. There were days that he swore that Chancellor Palpatine had assigned him Wilhuff Tarkin just to vex him. "Fine," he conceded. "But he used to be a Jedi, and he's not now, because he uses the Dark Side of the Force."

Tarkin considered this for a moment, his hand at his chin, before he nodded. "I can accept this as a possibility."

"Alright, thank you." Anakin crossed his arms over his chest. "The Dark Side is corrupting because power is corrupting. I think one of our Dark Side friends may have used the Force to...change these people."

"Can the Force do such a thing?"

"I don't know, I'll have to go with Master Qui-Gon to see what I can find in the Archives. They had to learn this from somewhere, and they stole several Sith holocrons from the Holocron Vault when they broke in."

Tarkin looked back to the body on the table, his gaunt face drawn in concentration and deep thought. The Force was beyond him, though he respected people who had this advantage. For the most part. The Jedi were fearsome warriors, but their Code kept them from victory more often than not. Fortunately, Anakin Skywalker was a bit more forward thinking than most Jedi, and while he was unwilling to go to the brutal lengths necessary to win swiftly, he was more often than not coming up constantly evolving plans that revealed a quick, strategic mind and a willingness to strike out at an enemy's weak points when they were exposed, regardless of the repercussions. It seemed reckless, yes, but Tarkin recognized it for what it was: a quick way to force the enemy to make emotional, impulsive mistakes that dealt an advantage to the Republic.

"Putting your Jedi matters aside for a moment," the Captain said in a serious manner. "There is a far more serious matter at hand. This war is expensive. The cloners don't do their work for free, which makes our soldiers a limited resource." His blue eyes narrowed. "But if your...Sith Lords can make monster warriors out of civilians, than our enemy has found a way to draw on an army that is not only free, but infinitely large."

"And extremely dangerous..." Skywalker sighed. "Jedi can cut through droids like they're nothing, but these things..." He counted on his fingers. "Massacre at Devaron, hundreds of clones and two Jedi dead. Massacre at Umbara, thousands of clones and a Jedi Master dead. They cause massacres everywhere they go."

"Every beast can be tamed," Tarkin said quietly. "I've learned that lesson well. We just need to find what it is they fear and use that fear against them. They aren't machines, and even the basest of creatures fear something."

Anakin smirked. "What about the rancor?"

"Even them, or your friend Kenobi wouldn't have been able to tame three. He is an apex predator, and if we are going to win, than we must learn to become so as well. If the Separatists switch to using a free, far superior force, and if it turns out they can make them quickly, than not only is every innocent civilian a potential future soldier, but the Republic cannot hope to emerge victorious."

Anakin nodded, resolve in his blue eyes as the path became clear. The Sith were making these, so the Sith needed to be destroyed, and quickly. Every Jedi in the Order knew that this is what needed to be done, but the arrival of these Dark Side warriors strengthened Anakin's resolve and his urgency. "I'll talk to the Council about what we discovered here."

"And I must report our findings to the Chancellor. He was eager to hear about our investigation on the matter." He paused to straighten his immaculate uniform. "You should come as well. Your leadership these past few months has made you pop up quite a bit in our conversations."

Anakin nodded. "I'll stop by after I report to the Council. And then you and I need to leave. Two days on Coruscant is far too long when there's a war to win."

Tarkin respectfully inclined his head and turned to leave, than stopped, and looked over his shoulder, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "General Skywalker, I feel like you should know that it has been reported that the Star Destroyer stolen from us during the battle of Mon Cala has been found."

Anakin gasped and rushed to the Captain's side. "Where?!"

"With the Separatist fleet over Mygeeto." A lazy smirk passed over Tarkin's face. "Colored in your friend Kenobi's red and black. And he calls her the Skywalker."

There was something wrong with Quinlan Vos. The Jedi Masters had all rolled their eyes, said that Quinlan was just being Quinlan, that he had never stuck strictly to the Code, but Ahsoka knew better. She could feel it within him through the strong Force bond they shared. He was more secretive than usual, which would have been hard to see unless they really knew the Kiffar, could interpret his glib remarks, his carefree attitude, his flagrant debauchery, all things he used to keep people away in traditional Jedi unattachment. It worked, but not with his Padawan.

He had been drinking more than usual, sneaking out of the Temple or away from the war camps late at night far more than he usually did, was far, far more aggressive in battle than he had been before, and he harnessed powers that were frankly terrifying in their effectiveness, powers that allowed him to accomplish things that Ahsoka didn't even know was possible. The Force wasn't just a comforting companion to Quinlan, it was a frightening one, and it was something that Master Vos had been unwilling to share with his student, despite her pleading for him to teach her.

Ahsoka had asked him what was wrong the first time she felt something was off, but the Kiffar had just laughed, said he was simply blowing off steam, that he needed a break from the stresses of war, which accounted for the drinking and the...other things, and when she asked about his ruthless use of the Force, he had simply shrugged and smiled and asked her if she wanted battles to go quickly, or drag on, for clones to die in an extended conflict, or be saved in a shorter one. She couldn't exactly argue with the logic, and that may have been the end of the matter if, occasionally, Ahsoka didn't look at her Master, her friend, and see darkness raging within him.

The Masters didn't see it. They couldn't see the darkness in him, even though it was only skin deep, even though a Jedi Master should have been able to look inside him and seen it boiling, just as Ahsoka did. She couldn't understand how the likes of Master Windu, Master Plo, Master Mundi couldn't see what she did. She would have asked those closer to Quinlan, like Qui-Gon and Luminara, but they were never in the same place at the same time, and the sensitive nature of the subject made Ahsoka uncomfortable talking about it over a comlink. This was a subject that needed to be discussed in person, face to face, in hopes that they could somehow see what she saw in her Master.

Doubt began to plague her, and the Padawan thought she may have been going crazy. If the Masters couldn't sense this, than surely it was nothing. It was true that they hadn't been able to sense the Dark Side in Obi-Wan Kenobi all that time ago, but things were different now. Now they were actively at war with the Sith. Now they knew there was a threat where before they had been largely ignorant. Everyone was on high alert. The Dark Side certainly couldn't slip by the Jedi Masters when they knew exactly what to look for. It must have just been a combination of stress and nerves and stories about Sith evil that was making her paranoid. And...it wasn't all bad. Quinlan's aggression was making battles end faster, and he was saving lives by doing so, and all the anger, all the fury that seemed to come out of him in the heat of battle simply vanished afterwards. She was just seeing darkness and shadows everywhere because of the disturbance in the Force the war was causing. Quinlan was fine. He was just intense.

Regardless of the state of her Master, she was learning a great deal about harnessing the Force to her advantage, and while Quinlan wasn't a teacher like she expected, the Kiffar was brilliant at leading by example. He encouraged her to blaze her own path, said there was no right or wrong way to approach any obstacle, that emotions, despite the common belief among the Jedi, were valuable and important, so long as one could master them, instead of being mastered by them. Otherwise, they'd be no better than the Sith, who lied and deceived their way through life in order to justify their evil actions, which were so often driven from the corruption of deep, powerful emotions, twisted into hatred and anger when they lost control. Ahsoka took all his lessons to heart, and she was becoming powerful extremely quickly by following Quinlan's battlefield example, and more than teaching her how to fight and walk side by side with the Force, Quinlan was teaching her how to survive. They were, all in all, a good match, despite her concerns.

Just as she was concerned now, as her Master had flown off a few days ago for Mandalore, presumably to kick the venomite nest that was the personal property of Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi. He should have taken her with him. She was stronger now than the first time they had faced off against the Sith Lord, as was her Master, and the second time Quinlan had met him, he had proved that Kenobi could be reasoned with, even if it was only for a short time, and even if that bout of reason ended in taking a hostage and bringing a pirate holdout down on them...

The third time might be the one that pulled Kenobi back to the Light, as Quinlan and Qui-Gon had hoped. It was no secret that Vos was deeply connected to Obi-Wan. Perhaps it was simply the Sith's darkness that she was sensing in her Master, not his own. Regardless, he had left her behind, and she was unhappy about it, though she would have minded more if her friend Barriss weren't currently in the Temple, as Luminara had been recalled to handle a potentially very bad, very delicate situation coming out of Mandalore. There were all kinds of rumors surfacing about Satine among the politicians and delegates since her trip to meet with the Senate, and because she had come across as so strong in her negotiations, and afterwards, so personable in the excessively important social dealings, she had remained under constant scrutiny, and as such, rumors spread like wildfire.

Ahsoka didn't pay much attention to rumors. Growing up in the Temple, she had heard her fair share of fabrications based on shreds of truths to wild tales with no fact behind them at all. The younglings and the Padawans, eager to learn and swept up in the mystical world they were fortunate enough to be born into, were all terribly trusting, which made it more fun to spread outlandish tales, just to see which would catch and which would fizzle out. The most impressive one had been about famed Obi-Wan Kenobi slaying a Sith Lord, or two, or three, and even with hard evidence to support it, the actual story had spiraled into fabrication as well, to the point that even young Ahsoka didn't believe it until she had spoken to the kind, quiet, studious man herself. Then there were the rumors that the same man had joined the Sith, and while Ahsoka knew it to be true because of her Master, because she had seen it for herself, there were many in the Temple that didn't believe it. They all did now, but it was difficult to know which rumors to believe.

Which is why Ahsoka found it difficult to believe the stories coming out of the Senate about Mandalore. They ranged from possibly believable to excessively outlandish, but there seemed to be no way to assert reason and stop the talking. It was said that Mand'alor Satine looked to conquer the galaxy, to finish the work of Mand'alor the Ultimate from the ancient Mandalorian Wars. That she was secretly in league with both the Republic and Separatists forces so that she could quietly assert her way into their politics and bring about real, defended peace. That Count Dooku and Chancellor Palpatine continued to drive their armies against each other to impress the pacifist queen in hopes of securing an alliance by marriage with the royal woman. That she was somehow not only a telepath, but had developed Force sensitivity, which accounted for how she had so easily won over the Republic, the Confederacy, and her own enemies. There were thousands of others, each more ridiculous than the last, and Ahsoka didn't believe a word of any of it. If anyone knew anything, it would be Luminara and Barriss, and she was heading to the Padawan's room now.

Ahsoka tapped the small intercom box by the door, and Barriss swiftly, calmly asked her to enter without first asking who it was. The Togruta pressed the button and the door slid open to reveal Barriss sitting cross-legged on the ground, her eyes closed and her face peaceful. She had been meditating. Ahsoka paid her no mind and threw herself at the older girl, wrapping her skinny arms around the Mirialan and sending them both sprawling to the ground while Ahsoka laughed in delight. The Jedi were not supposed to form attachments, but young Tano had formed many, and Barriss was one of them.

"I hear," Ahsoka began, "that you and Master Luminara have been serving primarily as diplomats these days."

Barriss smiled shyly. "It's what we're best at," she said humbly. "Master Luminara has been appointed as one of two Jedi advisors to the Chancellor. He believes that it is important to work as closely with the Jedi as possible."

The Togruta wrinkled her nose. "Don't you get bored? I mean, it's all just talking and listening to people argue and lie..."

"I admit there's a fair bit of that," she said, smiling for a moment before it all faded away into something far more grim. "But it isn't all that. A fair deal of our negotiations end in violence..."

Ahsoka grinned, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. "My Master calls that aggressive negotiations. We do those sometimes too, but...the Council has a reason for not sending Master Quinlan on diplomatic missions. He's far too good at leading the clones to victory."

The Mirialan's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Of course he is. So many Jedi are." She looked at her friend with a serious expression on her green face. "Do you like fighting in this war, Ahsoka?"

"Yes, of course." She bit her lip. "W-well...no, not exactly, but..." Ahsoka sighed in frustration. "The war is awful, of course. But..." She sighed and wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned her cheek against her knees. "When I was a youngling, all I ever wanted was to be a Jedi Knight and see the galaxy with my Master. Than the war began, and everything seemed so uncertain. And now..." The Togruta smiled softly. "Now my Master and I go from planet to planet and defend the Republic against evil and the Sith. It's awful this happened, but...for the first time, I feel like I've found my place in the galaxy."

Barriss bowed her head and looked to the ground, and Ahsoka didn't see the Mirialan's tiny hand balling into a fist in her robes. "You think you're place is in war?"

"Well...yeah. Right now, it is. I mean, somebody needs to stand against evil, right?"

"Of course," Barriss said. "But is this the right way to do it?"

Ahsoka pursed her lips. "We don't really have a choice."

"Don't we?"

"No! We're fighting the Sith. If we don't stand and fight, than there won't be a Jedi Order anymore."

Barriss softly scoffed. "We're hardly Jedi anymore." Ahsoka didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. In the silence, Barriss looked up, a faint smile on her lips to reassure her worried friend. "We have no business in this war. If the Jedi had just stood back and tried to find peace..." She shook her head. "Why was it such a bad thing to break away from the Republic? Why couldn't we have just allowed the Separatists the power to choose?" Her blue eyes narrowed. "I didn't think that being a part of the Republic wasn't a choice."

"I'm sorry..." the Togruta said, running her hand over the small bumps of her montrails. She understood Barriss, felt her frustrations. Her temperament had always been gentle, her inclination always toward meditation and negotiations. The Mirialans were spiritual people, and war did not sit well with them. It didn't sit well with Ahsoka either, of course, but she had always appreciated the more physical aspects of her training. All of them were still struggling to justify their place in this brutal conflict. "I don't have any answers for you, Barriss. I'm not really very aware of the politics."

Barriss looked away. "No, no, I'm sorry." She sighed, chuckling softly. "I didn't mean to burden you, Ahsoka."

The Togruta grinned. "It's alright. I don't mind. This war is hard on everyone." She frowned and looked at her friend. They were both just Padawans, but they have never been shy about voicing their concerns to each other. "I'm worried about my Master. The war isn't hard on him, but it's...changed him. I thought I sensed darkness in him."

Barriss brought her hand to her chin, a pensive look on her face as she considered her friend's troubles. "Are you certain it was from him and not from the state of the Force? Everything is out of balance."

"I'm sure. Or...I think I'm sure."

The Mirialan nodded. "I think...that is normal for a Jedi at war." She smiled reassuringly at Ahsoka when the Togruta looked uncertain. "It's not like it was when we were just peacekeepers. Nothing is peaceful and serene anymore."

"Y-yeah, maybe..." She didn't know, and Barriss' guess was as good as hers. Still, she thought there was something more, but that would be better discussed with Luminara, and the Master was in the Temple, even if she was entrenched in meetings with the Council and the Senate. She took a deep breath and let the matter go for the moment. "But you like diplomacy?"

Barriss nodded. "It comes easily to me, I think," she said, smiling. "I don't do any of the actual work, but I am learning a great deal from my Master. She has been working closely with Chancellor Palpatine, and he's very insightful about the state of things in the Senate and the galaxy at large."

"There's a lot of talk around the Temple about the Mandalorians." Ahsoka grinned broadly when Barriss rolled her eyes. "I heard some youngling say earlier that their queen is Force sensitive and is looking to start her own Mandalorian branch of the Jedi."

Barriss scoffed and dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "I heard similar as well, but no, that isn't happening. But there has been a great deal of talk about Mandalore in the Senate since her visit. Dealing with her properly has become a major concern for my Master."

Ahsoka frowned. "The Jedi seem nervous about it too."

"Of course they are. The Mandalorians are historically some of the most talented Jedi killers any culture has ever produced. Their palace still has artwork and murals and carvings depicting their warriors killing Jedi Knights."

"...isn't she a pacifist?"

"Yes, but she's a pacifist with a Sith Lord behind her. Which, of course, the Senate is unconcerned about, but we know better." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at the ceiling, and Ahsoka couldn't help but smile. This was what Barriss was meant for. Not the war. "Master Luminara says there is no doubt that the Duchess and the Sith are close." She flushed, a dark shade of green coming to her cheeks. "Very close."

A maniacal grin came to Ahsoka's face, both at the confirmation of that particular rumor and at her friend's discomfort. Master Vos talked about such things in great detail, and it had gotten the young Padawan somewhat used to the subject. The Kiffar had, of course, insinuated that this was the case on Mandalore, that Satine and Obi-Wan had something of a star-crossed affair, but he started more rumors than anyone, and she didn't believe it. "But so what? They're pacifists. Even now."

"Yes, but now she's raised an army." The Togruta felt her stomach sink. That was one of the rumors that she didn't believe because she didn't want to believe it. A militant Mandalore was always a galactic concern.

"An army?"

Barriss nodded seriously. "An army. Not a large one, but it looks like it was developed nearly overnight. It wasn't, of course, but if she can raise support that quickly..." She sighed heavily, but said nothing more, the prospect of more war weighing heavily on her.

"But she's a pacifist," Ahsoka asserted. "We knew she was building an army to defend her peace, didn't we?"

"Duchess Satine isn't the problem."

"Well, the Sith don't-"

"The Sith aren't the problem either." Tano fell silent and looked curiously at her friend as the Mirialan took a deep breath and organized her thoughts. "Reports from Mandalore say that the Duchess has fallen ill," she said slowly, carefully measuring her words.

"Ill?" the Togruta asked with genuine surprise. She had heard so many rumors, but she hadn't heard that. "Ill how? A cold? Or is this serious?" If it was serious, they may be thrust into a situation where they would need to deal with a Sith Lord that had his things messed with, just as Qui-Gon had said to avoid.

"We don't know, though several doctor's have been to see her, if the reports are to be believed." She waved off the notion as if it were unimportant. "The Senate is concerned. Duchess Satine is peaceful, but if something were to happen to her, if she were suddenly unable to rule the Mandalorians for some reason, there are very real concerns about who will rule in her place."

Ahsoka gasped. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Barriss rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but nobody outside of the Order is worried about that, and the Mandalorians are proud and would never accept the rule of an outsider. They're worried about the Duchess' sister ruling Mandalore. Apparently, she's been sitting the throne in Satine's absence, and she's not at all peaceful. She's the leader of the Death Watch, and she suddenly acquired an army. If she's made the ruler of Mandalore-"

"You're right, that is bad..." Ahsoka mused. "We can't fight the Separatists and the Mandalorians."

"Especially not when the Mandalorians have a historic hatred of the Jedi."

The Togruta sighed wearily. The rumors were so much more fun than the truth. She suddenly missed the preposterous idea of the old, wizened Dooku trying to marry young, beautiful Satine, and no doubt causing conflict with her Sith Lord lover. "This is what we really need the Jedi for. If we could go and smooth things over with them-"

Barriss' blue eyes narrowed, and for a moment, they almost seemed...hopeless. Distrusting. "Even Satine doesn't like the Jedi. She doesn't want them anywhere near Mandalore. She doesn't trust them." The Mirialan's face fell. "Nor should she."

For a moment, just a moment, Ahsoka could sense in her friend the same darkness that she saw in her Master. She quickly shook it off. The war was taking its toll, that was all. Even she felt weary, her natural suspicion obviously giving way to paranoia. It was nothing. It had to be nothing.