Chapter 113: War's End
Obi-Wan could see clearly the rugged, untamed wilderness of Eriadu's Carrion Plateau, could hear the call of birds, the cautious tramping of the native fauna, the careful prowling of the predators in search of prey, the howling of the veermok on the distant Carrion Spike, a rock formation so tall it could be seen towering over the trees of the dense forest. The thick, earthy smell of fallen leaves and loamy soil permeated the air, and crouched down in a thicket, a slugthrower rifle in hand, was a boy, brown of hair and blue of eye, no more than sixteen years of age, and it didn't take Obi-Wan a second look to know that the teen was the most dangerous creature out there, an apex predator among creatures much bigger, much faster, much stronger than he. This child had tamed the wilderness, trained it, taught every creature, both benign and malicious, that he was the one to be feared. It was...inspiring, really.
A soft groan echoed around him, one of both pain and protest, though both feelings were minimal at this point, and with a grin of triumph, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to stare into the dazed face and blank eyes of Skywalker's trusty Admiral, the man hanging by his wrists from restraints upon the wall in his dungeons on Mustafar, the man stripped from the waste up to give Cody a bigger canvas to work upon. For such a thin, pale, gaunt man, Tarkin had been remarkably resilient, and his childhood training had made him a dangerous predator, ruthless and uncompromising, willing to do brutal, awful things to make a point, which was why Sidious had taken an interest in him at such a young age.
Yet another cog in Palpatine's plans, Tarkin had been recruited even before Kenobi had turned to the Sith, and he had never heard about the man. His Master had secrets within secrets, and it made him exceptionally dangerous. Obi-Wan was starting to realize that he'd have to untangle an entire web of deception and lies and manipulations in order to make defeating Sidious a reality. He was at a serious disadvantage against his Master, and it wasn't for lack of strength in the Dark Side. Obi-Wan felt that he may, in fact, share mastery of the Force with Darth Sidious, but an even contest couldn't be decided by skill or will or resolve. It would come down to who knew the other better, and in that, Kenobi was seriously outmatched. There was very little, if anything that Sidious didn't know about his apprentice, and Obi-Wan knew next to nothing in comparison. He needed time. Sidious would become comfortable, complacent in his Empire. After a time, after the Sith Empire was well established and stable, Obi-Wan would kill him, and it would be his turn to rule the Sith, the way the Force intended.
He could feel a change in the Force, a shifting of the Dark Side the night before, a stirring of the cool, calm waters in the depths where he sat in meditation so often. So powerful the pulse, it reached him even where he sat, not as a powerful wave, but as a gentle tug, a pull not of warning, but of triumph. Anakin Skywalker had fallen, had embraced the Dark Side, had been inducted within the Sith. He knew it the moment it happened, could feel the Force become stained black with the powerful pull of not one, but two Dark Side vergences, could feel it struggling against this turn, and Obi-Wan knew what he must do, as he had always known. Sidious meant to keep them both, but this could not be, the Force would not allow it. The Master had to choose, and to Kenobi, the choice was clear.
Anakin was a rabid dog, a child in the eyes of darkness, despite his considerable power. It would take years and years to work Anakin into a true apprentice, just as it had taken Obi-Wan time and pain and suffering to burnish him from broken Jedi into Sith masterpiece. Over ten years of loyal and faithful service could not be tossed away for a boy that had yet to truly understand the power of the Dark Side. For all his bluster and rage, for all his perceived losses and wrongs, Anakin Skywalker hadn't truly lost anything that he hadn't pushed away himself. He had lost his Master in Qui-Gon Jinn, yes, but the immortal Jedi had reached out to his student first and foremost, and Skywalker had shut him out so completely that even now, the spirit couldn't cut through to him. And he lost his mother, he supposed. Obi-Wan could give him that.
But that was exactly the trouble with Anakin. His needs, his darkness, his pull to the Dark Side was selfish. Obi-Wan had fell for a grander purpose. At first, he had embraced the Dark Side to save Qui-Gon Jinn, paid for his Master's life by giving himself over to darkness forever, and he had never looked back. The power was immense, swift and strong and obviously a requirement for defeating the Sith. As much as the Jedi stood opposed to the Dark Side, it was other Sith that were the true masters of killing Sith Lords, and Obi-Wan had rushed in headlong toward his calling. Until the Dark Side opened his eyes to the weakness of the Jedi, the mire of corruption and sloth that was the Galactic Republic, and he came to realize that the Sith weren't some creature of evil, they were right. The Code of the Sith spoke the truth that the Jedi Code never could, and it was through his new Code that he learned of passion, of victory, of progress through strife, not the stagnation that came from peaceful resolution. The completion of the Sith imperative would not only purge the galaxy of the stagnation that came from the Jedi's imposed peace, but it would bring about progress through adversity. This was for the good of the galaxy.
But Skywalker was selfish, a child throwing a temper tantrum because life wasn't fair, because he didn't get the girl, because the playground bully had taken his things. Again. This wasn't darkness, it was pettiness, not the actions of a Sith Lord, but the uncontrolled rage of a child that discovered they were gifted and hadn't been given all that he believed he was owed. He had the benefit of the greatest teacher in the Jedi Order, and while Qui-Gon was a hard, difficult Master for Obi-Wan, he had been fair and judicious with precious little Anakin, and Skywalker had thanked the man by throwing away all he had been taught the moment things began to go very, very poorly, the second that he thought he'd lose his precious possessions. It was ungrateful, and it was offensive to think that Darth Sidious could see a Sith in him. Perhaps the Master had become selfish as well. Perhaps he had always been, and Obi-Wan was only beginning to see it now.
He couldn't have both of them. The Force wouldn't allow it, and neither would Obi-Wan. No amount of trickery or manipulation could change that. Sidious would be forced to choose, and the choice was an obvious one, especially since Lumis held knowledge that Sidious badly craved. And if this Master threw him away for Skywalker...
Obi-Wan smiled as he patted Tarkin's cheek, the man groaning his resistance, but his body reflexively leaned into his touch. Torture hadn't been enough to break the man, though Cody did enjoy the fight he put up. While his mental fortitude was strong, certainly nothing a Jedi would be able to push through, without the Force, Tarkin didn't stand a chance at resisting Kenobi for long. No one ever did.
"Wilhuff Tarkin..." he drawled, leaning in close to the man and watching in delight as the Admiral tried and failed to focus his hazy eyes. "I see you..." He ran his thumb over a gaunt cheek, observing as the bruised and bloody man squirmed under his grasp in equal parts revulsion and desire, the strength of his mind fighting with the yearnings of his body. It was a struggle that he didn't get to witness often, and never in those that weren't Force sensitive, but he wasn't pushing very hard. It wouldn't due to destroy the man, not when he still had so much use to him.
"Get out of my head..." the Admiral managed to growl between grit teeth, his resolve hardening for only a moment before long fingers ran across the lacerations on his chest, and he shivered, moaning in pain, but arching into the unnecessarily gentle touch.
"And why would I want to do that? It's fascinating in here," Kenobi chirped, grabbing the man's hair and making the shadows of the Force wriggle and writhe within him, an the Admiral gasped, keenly attuned to the feeling of his mental violation. "I didn't get a good look at you before, but now..." Kenobi flashed the struggling man a bright smile. "I've seen you in my visions. A long time ago, and still from time to time. The power to destroy a planet..." Kenobi leaned in and looked closer at the man, scrutinizing his every feature, memorizing every detail. "No wonder my Master took an interest in you...if you had the Force, you'd be Sith."
"If you break my toy, Master, I'm going to be pissed." Obi-Wan shot narrowed eyes over his shoulder to glare at Cody as he walked into the room, an amused smirk on his face, and the haze seemed to clear from Tarkin's mind, his teeth grit as he snarled in fury and strained against his bonds. "Not that it isn't your right, but I get so little time with him..."
"No, he's going to be useful to me, I've no need to break him." He laid a long finger on the Admiral's high brow. "I just need to be in here, and I am." Kenobi sneered as he grasped his chin hard. "Look at you...raised to be an apex predator, only to find that there are powers beyond your understanding. You may be a big man to most, Wilhuff, but to me, you are prey. Your hunt for me has only taken you closer to my grasp, and now I have you..."
"General Skywalker will come for you," Tarkin hissed. "He will never go through with this trade of yours!"
"Oh, I'm counting on it..."
"My Lord," Cody said swiftly, once again drawing the Sith's attention. "We need to discuss the Mandalorians." Kenobi frowned.
"Is it bad?"
"Bo-Katan seems to think so." Obi-Wan growled in irritation, and with a slight gesture of his hand, Tarkin began to writhe, his teeth clamped shut to keep from howling in pain, but it did little to keep him from agonized groans as his blood began to boil within him. "Mandalore will never allow an outsider to rule, not after Maul. The true Mandalorians support you, sir, but those in the Empire in Hutt Space..."
"I suspect they are indifferent," he said softly. "This is a new Empire, they are not yet strong. The army is large, but not trained well for lack of time. Bo-Katan isn't the great uniter that Satine was."
"No, she isn't," Cody said firmly. "But she is a warrior, and those from the Mandalore sector are the best this galaxy has to offer."
"But not enough to fight the Republic."
"...not even close. Not even with the entirety of their army, they are too new, and the clones are too well trained, and if the Republic tries to conquer them, systems will begin to break away to avoid the fighting." Obi-Wan groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn't slept in days. He'd need to before he faced whatever it was that the next few days would bring.
"I'll try to convince Sidious to leave them alone until-"
"You know he won't," Cody said firmly, watching as the Sith Lord groaned in frustration. "And what will you do with Padmé and the twins? If you are to keep close to Sidious, you know as well as I that he won't allow you to keep another lover. And have you even considered that your Master may not choose you?"
"I've considered all of that, Cody!" Kenobi shouted, the Dark Side rearing up and causing Tarkin to scream in pain. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, calming himself as best as he was able. "I'm sorry..."
"May I ask your priorities?"
"The twins," he said swiftly, without a moment to think about the answer. "The Force is striking against Sidious, Cody, I know it is, I can feel it, and it's through them. If all else fails, they must survive." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Wonoksh Qyâsik nun. The Force shall set me free. It will. It has. I'll be free of my Master soon enough."
"And what of Mandalore?" the clone asked softly, and Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Hutt Space is too big for him to control well. Even now, it's fairly lawless, Sidious' Empire will have difficulty maintaining control of it between Jabba and Bo-Katan. The Mandalorians can be a huge problem to him if they disperse as soon as Order 66 is carried out."
Cody nodded his understanding, a sly smile coming across his lips as he considered what his Master had said and began formulating a plan. "I'll talk to Bo-Katan after you've taken Padmé from her. We'll think of something, sir."
"I know you will, my friend." A cry of pain from Tarkin drew Kenobi's attention, and he swiftly turned around, releasing his hold on the man and laying a cool, gentle hand on his cheek. "All you need to do is submit, Tarkin," he drawled sweetly. "Come now, ask for me to end the pain, ask me to stop the torture, and I will."
"I won't," Cody scoffed, and Obi-Wan flashed him a devious grin.
"The Dark Side thrives on pain, but on pleasure as well," Kenobi said softly, dragging a finger down the bloody chest and raking his fingernail across raw, exposed skin. "I'm sure I can find a slave around here to pleasure you, if you desired. I don't think I killed all of them in my murderous rampage when I found out that the trap you helped set had killed my best friend..."
"Pity we didn't get you as well..." Tarkin said, soft but defiant, and Kenobi grabbed his chin hard and forced pain hazed blue eyes to look into his. He could feel the Admiral shudder, could feel his resolve immediately weaken, his consciousness open and inviting, his submission an automatic response, a result of his earlier mental intrusion.
"On second thought, bring me the rancor, Cody." The Admiral's eyes widened in fear, and Kenobi flashed him a cold, amused smile. "Ever been with a rancor, Tarkin? No? I wonder if it hurts. I bet it's excruciating!" The Sith patted the shaking man's cheek. "If you let me, I can be a kinder Master than Palpatine ever could, but I can be far more cruel as well. Understand?"
"...yes, Master," the Admiral said softly, his voice distant, the predator brought low by a much more dangerous creature.
"Cody, let me know when he decided if he wants me to be kind or cruel. Throw a girl his way and see what happens. He may have forgotten what it's like, it's been so long." He smiled at his clone and saluted. "I leave the rest to your care."
He walked away from the dungeons to the sounds of screams, and silence fell as he stepped inside the elevator to bring him to his quarters where Padmé lay, hopefully, sleeping. The past few weeks had been trying, and rest, actual rest, was becoming a necessity. The lights were off when he slipped into his bedroom, and he could feel the Senator's presence in his bed, breathing slow and shallow in her light sleep. Obi-Wan kicked off his shoes and took off his robes, laying his lightsabers on top of the folded pile before he climbed into bed as quietly as he could, laying back against his pillow for a moment and trying to relax, ignoring the woman beside him as he closed his eyes.
If Satine were alive, if he hadn't failed his love so spectacularly, then Sidious would already be dead, and it would be her next to him now, Empress of the New Sith Empire, with their infant son in her arms. Even now, the thought still wounded him, but at least he could think about her without plunging into insanity. The wound would never heal, he knew. The Dark Side held it open wide, a place where pain and anger and power freely flowed from, but before, the gaping hole had sent him into a state of panic so severe that he dreaded to look upon it. Now, gone was the horror, and in its place, simply a pain that constantly throbbed and ached, and he looked upon the bleeding gash with sorrow and grief that it was there. But at least he could look upon it.
His visions were brighter now, far more clear, though he only ever saw one these days, the one that all his visions came to in the end. The face in flames, screaming and blistering in agony. Since before he fell to the Dark Side, he had seen this vision, had felt it burned upon him, though it was always unclear, uncertain. His new clarity gave him insight and sharpened the image, and the face was now clear. Blazing eyes of red and yellow, filled with wrath and hate, peered at him from the sunken, burning featured of Anakin Skywalker, twisted and changed by the Dark Side and consumed by flames, his skin blackened and cracking and bleeding from the severity of the burns that covered him. Once, this vision filled him with dread, a promise of worse things to come, but now, it was all he wanted to look at. Skywalker suffering, prolonged and divine in its agony, and the very thought made his blood rush with sinister euphoria. If the mere vision was this sweet, he could only imagine how blissful the reality would be.
The tug of the Force drew his attention, soft and sweet and comforting in its vulnerability, and with a small smile upon his lips, he turned over and drew Padmé close, his hand resting over the twins that would soon be his. The Senator, it seemed, had a taste for bad men, and she flew to one that would protect her children, as any good mother would. The light touches gently woke the woman, and she peered over her shoulder, started to turn over, and quickly gave up, nestling in the Sith's arms instead as he kissed her neck.
"Are you going to kill Anakin?" she asked softly, and Kenobi tensed for a moment, gauged her intentions, and found her simply curious.
"If I must..." he said softly. "I've always detested senseless killing, but he is a threat to your children."
"Our children," she said, laying her hand over his.
"Our children," he corrected. "Quite frankly, death is too easy for him. After what he's done to you, to them, it seems terribly unjust to give him mercy."
Padmé was silent for a long while, absently stroking her lover's arms and feeling the slow, easy rise and fall of his chest behind her. "Whatever you do," she said softly, "do what's best for Luke and Leia. No matter what."
"I will," he softly promised, clutching the woman closer to him. "I will."
He had called him Darth Vader. It was a name of power, one that inspired awe and fear and terror to all those that so foolishly opposed him. The meaning wasn't lost on Anakin. He knew full well what had happened, what he had done, what he now was. Darth. It was more than just a title, it was a warning to bow down or be destroyed. A title bestowed on very few, a title that declared supremacy. Count Dooku had bore the title, a man that pushed an entire galaxy into war, a man that was responsible for the deaths of billions. Darth Tyranus. He had been powerful, but he was old, and now he was dead, killed by a fellow Sith, a former Jedi Master following his student Qui-Gon to the grave.
There was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Hated, loathsome Obi-Wan also bore the mantle of Sith Lord, was also called by the dreaded title. A man who spread chaos and confusion, not with violence, but with words, sweet and smooth and uttered by a sliver tongue in a clipped Coruscanti accent that made him seem refined and aristocratic. All things to hide that he was a murderer, a dreaded Sith Lord, Darth Lumis. It was strange that nobody ever called him by that name, even though everybody knew it. Perhaps it was intentional, done by Kenobi to make him appear less intimidating, less dangerous than he was. Perhaps it was for the benefit of the Jedi that served him, a convoluted means to delude themselves into believing that they didn't serve a Sith Lord. Lumis too would fall to the hands of a Sith Lord. Him. Darth Vader.
Kenobi - Lumis - had made an error, had displeased his Master, and now Chancellor Palpatine, Darth Sidious, sought to destroy him. Overstepped his bounds, he had said. Became a threat, was to be reeled in or destroyed, and Anakin wanted to kill him, needed to kill him. And the Jedi had stopped him. The Jedi have always stopped him, always gotten in his way, always held him back from the true power that he felt right now. They were afraid of him, and what's more, they served the Sith, as was evident in their recent actions. They wouldn't help him save Padmé, wouldn't help him kill Obi-Wan, and strove to keep their Master safe by keeping Anakin on the ground. They all knew there was a Sith in the Senate, and they had chosen to support Kenobi over Sidious. They made the wrong decision, and they would pay for it. They would all pay for it...
The Jedi were truly lost, corrupted completely if they would support Darth Lumis, as they did by denying Anakin the right to kill him now when he needed their support most. How long had this been going on? How far did the corruption go? Kenobi's words had poisoned the Jedi, had run through the Force like poison and infected them all. The Masters served the Sith, taught the others to do so as well, and the teachings passed down, all the way to the eager ears of the younglings. It needed to be rooted out, and like all corruption, it needed to be completely cut out to stop the spread. Obi-Wan was a corrupting influence, and everyone that he touched needed to be exterminated. Darth Sidious opposed his own apprentice, which made him an ally.
The Jedi supported the wrong Sith Lord, and they would pay for it. The Sith Lord Lumis was not to be tolerated. Right now, Sidious was an ally, a powerful practitioner of the Dark Side that opened Anakin's eyes to power, a supposedly evil, malignant creature that supported Anakin more than the Jedi did. A Master Sith that knew the dangers of the apprentice he had created, and was ready and able to give Anakin the means of destroying Obi-Wan when the Jedi would keep him on Coruscant to be useless. But when Obi-Wan was dead, the alliance would be over. Anakin would have gotten what he needed out of the Sith Master, and having no further use for him, he would be discarded. He would kill him, as the Jedi were never able to do, as the Sith were destined to do, and Darth Vader would destroy the last of the Sith Lords before he returned to Padmé and their child.
She would understand then. She would have to understand. She'd finally know that she had been used and abused by vile Obi-Wan, that the Sith Lord made her love him, made her leave with him, made her accept him within her. Anakin had joined the Sith, had embraced the Dark Side, yes, but it was all for her, all to keep Kenobi from killing her, as his vision showed, all to stop the horrible screams. And when she was saved, when she was his again, when Obi-Wan lay dying and choking on his own blood, Anakin, Vader would kill Darth Sidious and rid the galaxy of the Sith once and for all. After that, it would just be him and Padmé, and their child...provided it hadn't been corrupted by Obi-Wan's presence. Provided that it wasn't actually Kenobi's vile spawn this whole time...
Darth Vader. Darth Vader. Anakin smiled. He liked the sound of it. It felt...right, like a name long forgotten that was once his, like remembering what he was meant to be. He was a Force nexus, a boy so powerful that Qui-Gon Jinn had thrown away Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was wrong of the Jedi to deny him, wrong that he was not yet a Master when he was stronger than all the rest, wrong that he didn't sit on the Council when seats were empty, and so very wrong to deny him the full extent of his powers by forbidding the Dark Side, especially when he was powerful enough to attract the attention of the Sith Master, was strong enough to be given the weight of a title that so few had come to bear.
Pong Krell had fallen, had joined the Sith, but he was never a Sith Lord, and Anakin had killed him. Asajj Ventress was never truly Sith, and he had killed her too. And Quinlan Vos, the Kiffar Master he had fought beside, had remembered liking, respecting, had fallen, rushed to the Dark Side to stand beside Obi-Wan. Even so close as he was to a Sith Lord, even having been suspected of being an apprentice, Quinlan had never been Sith, and Anakin had slaughtered him like the animal he was. They were not Sith, but he was, and he had destroyed them, pretenders, the lot of them, because they were weak, and they were nothing.
Anakin looked out the forward viewport at the swiftly approaching planet and could feel his rage build, the excitement of slaughter growing within him, the anticipation of coming one step closer to ending the war, one moment closer to saving Padmé, one breath away from taking Quinlan Vos' lightsaber and thrusting it through Kenobi's vile, blackened heart. The Force seemed to cry out at the very idea, be it out of triumph or horror, Anakin didn't know, nor did he care. There wasn't any other way Kenobi could go out, wasn't anything more appropriate than watching those glowing, golden eyes widen as his friend's lightsaber brought an end to him. The only thing that could possibly make it sweeter was if he was killed in Sundari, in the place he had lost his whore and his vile spawn. He didn't suspect he'd be so lucky, though.
The Chancellor, Sidious, his Master, had lent him the use of his personal ship, had given him permission to leave on official business, on a secret assignment to destroy General Grievous. He would have gone straight for Kenobi, but Sidious had warned him against it, had cautioned him that Lumis was too strong, too secure, and needed to be disrupted to diminish his strength. He had argued at first, but slowly came around to Sidious' desires, and he felt so good for doing so, his entire body rushing with power and pleasure that bordered on sexual euphoria, the Force itself surging with how right it all felt. So he was off to quickly dispatch of Kenobi's last support, the final element that held the Confederacy together. With Grievous dead, the entire weight of the Separatist movement would fall on Obi-Wan's shoulders, and he would be crushed under the weight of it. Anakin would kill him, and it would all be over...
The planet was called Utapau, and Grievous had retreated to the neutral world to regroup after a defeat on Sluis Van, so said Sidious. He would know. Lumis sent him updates somewhat frequently, and the Master cross checked the information through other sources. The report was good, though this one didn't come from Lumis. He hadn't been reporting in. Anakin eased his ship through the atmosphere, following the coordinates that Sidious had sent to the navicomputer before he had left. If there were Separatists here, they must have been hiding, because there were no ships in orbit, no patrols in the skies, no droid presence to be seen. He dove the ship into one of the large sinkholes that dotted the planet, massive, cavernous carvings in the ground where the Pau'an cities were built into the vertical cliff face. He landed the ship on a docking platform that extended out of the carved walls and drew up his hood as he walked down the boarding ramp. A group of native Pau'ans came to meet him, but with a wave of his hand, they allowed him to pass. Anakin didn't need to deal with these fools. Grievous was here. He could sense him.
Anakin closed his eyes and let the Force guide him through the winding city etched out of the stone cliffs, the pull of the General calling to him, the Dark Side calling for and demanding his death. He stopped, looked up to a platform high above him, and could hear the clanking of droids. Grievous was there. With a sinister grin, Anakin leapt on top of hovercarts and machinery, using the Force to propel his jump, and a moment later, he grabbed hold of the edge of the platform and pulled himself up. Skywalker grinned broadly when a hundred battle droids primed and pointed their blasters at him. Droids were of no concern.
As he was told, he embraced his anger, his rage toward Kenobi, his need to finish this quickly to get to him, and power swelled within him, converging upon him so strongly it felt as though he had been pulled rapidly under the water, his chest burning with pressure as he was dragged deeper. When he thought his lungs would burst, Skywalker took hold of the Force, the energy darkening in his hands, and a feral, savage scream tore from his lungs as he blasted the droids back, the Force crashing into them with such ferocity that those who stood closest to him were torn apart before they struck the ground. The Dark Side roared in triumph in his ears as scraps of metal and sparks showered the platform, the hapless droids striking walls and breaking on impact, while others blew off the edge, and when the winds died down, when the anger subsided, Anakin found himself looking not just at an enraged General Grievous, but a shocked and confused Barriss Offee. The day couldn't possibly have gotten any better.
"Do I have your attention?" Anakin asked softly, and a metallic growl, low and dangerous, carried through the air.
"General Skywalker..." Grievous snarled, shrugging off his cape and grabbing his lightsabers, the hydraulics in his arms hissing as they divided into four. Anakin made no move to reach for his own weapon. "You come alone?"
"I don't need anyone else," Anakin hissed, and with a gasp, Barriss rushed forward, stopping just in front of Grievous and peered at her friend, her mouth drawing into a thin line as she looked into yellow eyes rimmed with red.
"Anakin..." she whispered. "You've fallen too." She drew up to her full height and took her lightsaber into her hand. "Kenobi said you fell. He said you belong to the Sith now."
"I belong to nobody!" Skywalker shouted, his voice echoing as it carried across the expanse of the sinkhole. "And when I through with you, Kenobi will have nobody left. No friends, no family, nobody left to protect him, and he will die too."
"You mean to fight him?" Barriss asked, her jaw hanging slack. "Like this?! Anakin, don't be a fool, he'll kill you. He's a Master, you're a child next to him."
"Don't insult me!"
"It's not an insult, it's the truth!" the Mirialan insisted. "The Dark Side isn't like the light, Anakin. It's all the Force, yes, but the application, what it does to you-"
"Do you mean to lecture me?!" Skywalker snarled, his mechanical hand clenching so hard that the Mirialan could hear the metal groaning in protest. "Me! A am a living vergence in the Force, and you would lecture me?" He scoffed. "You're worse than your Master. She serves Kenobi also. How many of the Jedi serve him, hmm?! You're in a position to know!"
"Are you out of your mind?" the Mirialan asked, backing away and confused. "You're completely paranoid, Luminara is a Jedi, the best they've got!"
"And yet she's friends with that snake..."Anakin said bitterly. "Sith are creatures of passion. Is she his lover as well? Is Senator Amidala not enough for him?!"
Barriss clamped her mouth shut and stared defiantly at Anakin. He was no doubt Sith, but he did not serve the same cause as Kenobi. Obi-Wan was far from pure intentions, but the man's belief in his Code could not be denied. He adhered to it, heard the will of the Force and listened. Anakin just felt like power, raw, untamed and chaotic. His fall was a personal one, a selfish one, and darkness made him strong as it blinded him. Obi-Wan saw clearly in the darkness, but Anakin was swinging wild, and Barriss knew that neither she nor Grievous would leave the planet.
"We were friends once, Anakin," she said softly, "so please, listen to me when I say this. Do not go after Obi-Wan. As strong as you may be, you are no Master of the Dark Side like he is, he will kill you, or worse. Please, be reasonable! Turn back now before its too late."
"You're trying to sway me," Anakin growled, and the Mirialan rolled her eyes.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm trying to do!"
"It won't work. Nothing you can do will save you now, Barriss..."
The Mirialan smiled, sad and resolute, closed her eyes, and centered herself. She had always been ready to let go when it was time, and her time was now. No amount of darkness could take that from her. "I'm no match for you, Anakin. Luminara beat me recently with very little effort, and you've always been stronger than both of us."
"Then you'll die quickly."
The thrumming hiss of four ignited lightsabers hissed in the air behind her, and before she could stop him, Grievous was charging Anakin, the cyborg furious and raging and unaware that Skywalker already had his weapon drawn and ready, the Dark Side in his hands and waiting to strike. Just before Grievous could reach him, Skywalker threw the full power of the Dark Side at the cyborg and the Mirialan, and without the Force to protect him, Grievous was blasted back, his heavy body keeping him grounded and his clawed feet digging deep gouges into the ground and preventing him from sliding back too far. The cyborg pressed in again, swift and agile, and this time, Skywalker drew his blades, blue and green thrumming to life and catching Grievous' blades with practiced ease.
Vader sneered as he batted away Grievous's swirling blades and wondered how anyone ever considered this heap of scraps a threat. Without the Force, he was nothing, simply the refined and elegant lightsaber in the hands of a machine. It felt like...practice. Training for the fight to come against the cyborg's Master, and Vader reveled in it, his sharp eyes seeing every movement before it happened, his blades flying to defend against attacks that he could sense were about to happen, making his movements seem jagged and random when they were actually calculated and precise. Grievous snarled in his rage, pressing his attack even harder, not knowing that he had already lost, unaware that the Sith Lord before him had no peer when it came to a swift and brutal offensive. This entire fight had been finished the moment Vader set foot upon Utapau.
He only sensed it right before it happened, and he swiftly brought his green blade down just in time to bat the Mirialan's lightsaber down, the point grazing his leg instead of slipping between his ribs, as had been the intent. Pain filled him as rage did, and the Force converged upon him and then violently blasted outwards, sending Grievous flying, but the Mirialan hardly moved, her defenses raised and warding against powerful blast of energy. Vader focused on her, his eyes narrowed in rage at the girl that dared stand against him. She was no threat. She had never been a threat.
Barriss was on him, swift and agile, ducking and dodging Vader's blades until she slipped under his guard and thrust forward, but the Sith spun out of the way, dropping his secondary lightsaber as he grabbed her extended wrist, pulling her with him as he pivoted. Swiftly, Vader switched directions, brought his knee up, and broke the Mirialan's arm at the elbow over his leg. With a sharp cry of pain, Barriss' useless hand dropped her lightsaber, and she was tossed to the side to collapse in a heap against a stack of supply crates. Whimpering in pain, she kept her eyes focused on Skywalker as he called his dropped saber to him and directed his attention back to Grievous, the enraged cyborg having recovered his strength and was now forced to retreat, defending himself from an absolute flurry of raining blows from the fallen Jedi. She reached out with her left hand and called her saber to her, grit her teeth as she severed her useless appendage, and slowly rose to her feet, the severe pain of the break easing instantly as nerves were cut and cauterized.
Vader drank in the pain of the Mirialan, the suffering inflicted by her broken limb, and he used it to fuel his power, the delight of an enemy soon fallen driving him to new heights of power. He felt lightheaded, intoxicated as he drove against Grievous, the cyborg's two blades struggling to defend against Vader's two. It didn't take long for him to trap two of the General's weapons under his blade, circle around them to keep them out of his way, and his other saber swung upwards in a wide arc, burning plasma connecting with one leg at the knee and two of his wrists. Grievous howled in rage, not pain, as he stumbled off balance and toppled to the ground, and Vader slowly stepped toward him as he tried to scramble to his feet.
Between the swimming in his head and the pleasure pulsing through his blood, Vader only just managed to catch the swift stab that came from behind him, and he reeled around to find the Mirialan, her face drawn and pale, her eyes intense, and he almost felt admiration for the strength of her resolve. But the moment was fleeting, and in the next second, he dropped his green lightsaber once again to swiftly shoot out his hand and wrap it around her slender neck and lift her off the ground. With a sigh of satisfaction, Vader thrust his lightsaber through her chest, her eyes filling with pain, but a wicked smirk was upon her lips as she drove her own weapon into his hip, causing the Sith to howl in pain and fury as he staggered and dropped the girl to the ground, a shiver running through her body as her life faded from her.
With pain came rage, and then power, fierce in its intensity, and Vader turned blazing yellow eyes on the struggling Grievous, and nothing else mattered. He extended his hands, his breathing fast and heavy as he grasped the cyborg in the grip of the Force, rose him off the ground, and hammered the power of the Dark Side against the durable metal body, Grievous' yellow eyes widening in pain as the metallic covering of his chest dented and bent and finally shattered. With a final howl of wrath, Vader brought his hands together, and General Grievous' chest was crushed, the screams silenced when his organ sac was punctured and torn by sharp shards of metal, his lungs and heart and vitals dripping onto the floor in a shower of blood and gore. Vader dropped the body of the General, reduced to mere scrap metal, into the viscous puddle of the remains of his organic self.
The Dark Side pulsed in triumph, sending waver of pleasure and satisfaction through him that nearly completely erased the sharp pain in his hip, and with a final sneer of contempt at the shreds of the Confederacy's last commanders, Vader turned to begin the walk back to the Chancellor's ship, a slight limp in his step from his smoking wound. There would be time on the trip back to Coruscant to treat the injury. All that was left to do was report to his Master, and then he would be off to whatever hole Obi-Wan Kenobi was hiding in. It was finally time to end Lumis' life so Vader could have his back.