Author's Note: Yes, before anyone asks, next chapter finishes Stain vs. Vader. BUT because it also includes the morning after and this chapter has something that needs to take place at night… well, I pull a manga and cut away from the action.

"And there still are no sightings of Knight Eerin?"

Yoda shook his head sadly as he and a few other Masters made their way through the streets of Coruscant. The Grand Master of the Order was seated in his hovering chair, which was the only way he was able to keep up with the long strides of Mace Windu and Kit Fisto. He knew he was getting stares from the citizens of the Capital World and that grieved him very much. It hadn't been that long ago, maybe 90 some odd years, that Yoda had commonly walked amongst the people the Jedi served. And now they looked upon him like he was something out of a picture book; a foreign thing not of the Galaxy. And he only had himself to blame for that.

The only reason they'd decided to leave the Temple that day was that Kit had arrived back on the planet with his Clone Troopers and Mace had decided to meet with him at the barracks rather than force Kit to find transportation. And it had been Yoda himself, looking about and realizing that it was a rare day where the air felt fresh on Coruscant, who had suggested they walk back to the Temple.

They had both looked at him so oddly and that should have been his first clue that he had fallen so far when it came to-

"Master?" Mace said softly, or softly for him, and Yoda realized they must have asked him something.

"Elsewhere, my mind is. Apologize, I do."

"Do not apologize, Master," Kit said gently. "If your mind drew you to something then it must have been important."

Yoda smiled at that. "Old I may be, not wise in all things it makes me. Wander off, my mind can."

"What were you thinking of?" Kit asked, pressing Yoda to speak. "We might be able to help."

The old Jedi let out a sigh. "For you to help, too late I fear it. Separated from the world, I am."

"What do you mean?" Kit said.

Yoda looked about them as they passed a shop selling different flowers from mid realm planets. "Sweet Shop, that once was. Go to them, I would. Many fruit candies, purchase them I would. Slip them to padawans and younglings, I would, when needed they were."

Kit smiled at that, a beaming white grin that always lifted Yoda's heart. Even in this time of death and war Kit could still smile. "I remember that well. I once got hurt in saber practice and you gave me a few sweet and sour yellow candies."

"Gone, it now is," Yoda stated. "Realized, I did not. Ordered the candies in the end, I did. Delivered they were… Pick them myself, I did not." His ears drooped as he wondered about the owner, Mil Nogon, a polite humanoid with a bald head and large glasses who had loved to talk to Yoda about how he made the candies whenever he visited. He had been Yoda's friend and he… didn't even know if Nogon was alive. "Leave the Temple, I do not."

"You leave many times," Kit argued. "You travel the galaxy."

"Do as Jedi, I leave. For pleasure? Contentment? Do these, last I can't remember."

Mace, at long last, spoke, "It's the same for all of us. This War… its left us so busy. I went to Deppa the other day and asked if her Padawan needed help with Form V. She looked at me… her Padawan had been knighted 3 months ago. I hadn't even realized. I wasn't there for a ceremony… off on some planet that has probably changed hands three times since."

"Longer than that, this problem has been for us," Yoda said. "Focused inward, we were. Not outward." He slumped in his chair. "Why Knight Eerin left, I feel."

"Bant is a different situation," Kit stated. "Her grief over Obi Wan-"

"Release it, allowed she was not," Yoda said, holding up a clawed hand. "Returned to duties too soon, she was. Never left, she was. Failed her, we did."

"The war…" Mace said weakly but Yoda could tell that even to his own ears it was a poor excuse.

"Consume us, it does. Excuse though? No." The Grand Master let out a sigh, the three of them stopping their walk. "Like a Sarlacc, this war is. Instantly killed, we are not. Slowly digested, we are."

"That... is not a pretty picture," Mace muttered, "but I won't deny that its accurate."

"But the War has gotten better," Kit pointed out.

Yoda murmured in agreement at that small victory. The War HAD gotten better. It had entered into a bit of a stalemate, with the Seperatists not pushing as they once had to claim new planets. And the Chancellor had, oddly enough, not pressed the Jedi to attack. In fact it seemed that the death of Young Skywalker was still wounding him, as he had decreased the amount of meetings he called with the Jedi. As such clone deaths were down as were injuries and deaths to Jedi Knights and Masters. It had allowed some Jedi to begin training non-Force Users to take on the roles of Generals, dealing with the command structure issues that had been plaguing them. And then there were the investigations… Yoda had heard that Commander Tarkin was being looked into for abuses of power when it came to his treatment of those directly under him. Things that hadn't been able to be done due to the rush of the war.

Still…

"To be made, a change must be," Yoda said suddenly.

"Master?" Kit asked.

"Dead, young Obi Wan is. My Great Grand Padawan, was he. Know him well though, I did not." It was a startling realization. He could rattle off many things about Obi Wan like his scores from classes long taken and his favorite Saber Form. But the holo he had most enjoyed? His favorite meal? A color he liked? Yoda knew none of that. "Learn, I should have. Learn… I will."

Because Yoda realized that he hadn't allowed himself to release his grief at the young Jedi's passing.

He had failed Obi Wan. He had failed Coruscant. He had become so busy with all his many duties in the Temple and the Council that he had forgotten he wasn't merely protecting the galaxy… he was a part of it. It was too late to connect with Obi Wan, but he would learn OF him. And in turn he hoped to relearn the world he lived in.

"Hmmm," Yoda said wiggling a bit as he gave an impish cackle. "Diner near the temple, Obi Wan and Skywalker would go to. Greasy food, very fattening and unhealthy it was." He paused. "Desire some, I do."

"A Jedi does not desire," Mace said but Yoda merely stared at him and the dark skinned man groaned. "I'm going to have to work extra hard to get rid of the pounds you are about to add to my frame!"

Yoda cackled again as he led them to Dex's Diner.

~MC~MC~MC~

Palpatine had left his opulent office behind.

Rid himself of the finely woven robes that were made of a silk so smooth that it was like he was wearing liquid shadow. The scent of Nubian Rosewood that his servants knew he enjoyed was no where to be found. The soft music he likes to listen to when he is all by himself working on Senate work is absent as well.

As it should be.

The Dark Side of the Force was powered through extreme emotion. The Jedi assume that it was only hatred and anger that allowed a Sith to reach their full power but there were other ways as well. Other emotions. Taking strength from one extreme or the other in order to fuel themselves. Gluttony was one; there were records from the Sith Empire of Dark Siders who would gorge themselves on food till their bellies ached, while around them others starved, slowly wasting away, so weak all they could do was watch from their spots on the floor, unable to even snatch a bite. Others were the starved, using only the Force to continue going and thus falling deep and deeper into the Dark Side. Another tale told of two sisters, twins. The first had fallen after she had been raped and thus the second had found a way to strengthen them both. She would find the most desirable of men, ones that filled her with a heat. She was a natural whore, addicted to sex. So she would find those men… and use the Dark Side to force them to rape her sister while she herself was chained up, forced to watch while devices kept her from reaching release. Still others would go to such lengths as finding something they grew utterly attached too… and then forcing themselves to slaughter it to fill them with self loathing. He had heard of one Sith who posed as a doctor, using the Dark Side to cure others, taking their pain into them so that every moment was agony… and then have their patients injured again.

All of those were… good. But Palpatine had of course found a better way.

To fuel his powers he moved between the extremes of pleasure and pain.

In his life as Chancellor Palpatine he had only the best. His fine clothes and his wonderful office and specially prepared food and his hobbies like opera. He would have art work that had been meant to be viewed by the masses brought to him so he might study it all by himself before destroying just a tiny piece, something only he and the artist would have noticed, so that any others who ever saw it would never know its full beauty. He would commission musicians to create Operas that he was the sole listener of. There was a rare nerf, with white fur and violet spots, that was nearing extinction; he once a month had a steak made of its meat even though it had been outlawed. He drank the finest in wines and slept on a bed that warmed his body while the air of his residence was scrubbed clean so that he didn't take into his lungs a single breath he didn't control. Over-indulgence and the galaxy burned all around him. It made him powerful. Made him strong. He had taught Tyrannus that and the man was working to become a pale copy of his master.

But in his life as Darth Sidious he wore only robes that caused him to break out into horrible rashes all over his body. He ate vile tasting food that made his stomach rebel, so that when it did come out of him (both ends often) its black oily mess burned him. The warehouse he was currently in stank of the most vile of pollutants and the screeching of the rail lines that ran far too close to the building made his head ache.

As it should be.

Going from one extreme to the other STRENGTHENED his ANGER. He HATED that he had to do this. That he couldn't just wave his hand and find Skywalker. And that raw rage and hate fueled the Dark Side ritual he was performing. The glowing symbols on the ground pulsed with power as he chanted, throwing his hands into the air as he called upon the Dark Side of the Force to reveal to him where in the galaxy Skywalker had gone. No… not called. Demanded. He demanded like the Emperor he would soon be. He commanded the Force to obey.

The Dark Side coiled and hissed and he snarled and whipped it like a disobedient beast.

But it did not provide him with the vision of where Skywalker has ended up. No planet is shown. No building where he is staying.

Instead it howled and threw him back against a wall so hard her felt his shoulder dislocate.

Sidious slowly got up, jaw clenched as he saw that the ritual circle had been broken by that outburst. He wouldn't be able to perform it again for at least a week; too dangerous to find the innocent blood he needed for the elixirs that would open himself up fully to the Darkness.

So he did the only thing he could do: he lifted up his hands and screamed as he unleashed all his rage. Lightning burst from his fingers making them bleed. Metal crumpled around him like tissue paper. The floor buckled. Every inch of him ached.

That did not provide him answers either.

Even the Dark Side did not know where Skywalker was.

He could only think straight when he'd released all his rage and frustration into the Force. Only then did his thoughts clear and he could focus on matters at hand.

The bounty hunters he had hired had found nothing. No trace of Skywalker. Nor had the detectives and sleuths he had asked to investigate around the planet where Skywalker had been last seen. No signs of who had taken the boy.

He had just… disappeared.

Palpatine couldn't even take solace in the idea that perhaps Skywalker was being tortured. Such things would move him closer to the Dark Side, yes, but needed to be handled properly. The Galaxy was full of Dark Jedi who had broken their vows to remain in the light and while that was always a delightful treat to see his sworn enemy Fall a Dark Jedi wasn't a Sith. Not anymore. They were like children that screeched 'I am a pod racer!' while dashing about their parents' legs. It would be possible for Palpatine to mold Skywalker into a Sith if he became a Dark Jedi but it was be far better and the boy far stronger if he were to Fall on Palpatine's terms.

Oh… he had such PLANS for the boy!

"His love is his weakness," Palpatine found himself muttered as he got to his feet and began the task of setting out the explosives that would destroy the warehouse and any trace he had been there. He was unconcerned about any investigation… there were accidents all the time. "Have his padawan turn her back on him… to abandon him. She can't turn to the Dark Side, that may cause him to cling to the Light, or worse have the two remain united and attempt to overthrow me. And she can't merely die… if I need to I can kill her but it would be far better if she abandoned him. His Master? He can die. Kenobi can die. By his hands. His beloved Clones… make him see them as little more than the puppets that they are. Mindless. Expendable. Until he one day thinks of them and realizes that they are all dead by his orders. And the Senator."

Palpatine smiled at that.

"Oh yes," he murmured as he thought of just all the things he could do to her. He had been careful to breed the obsession into Skywalker, to make him believe that he DESERVED his precious Padme. That she was his by right. With just a bit more effort he could twist him from loving her to desiring her and that would make all the difference. He would so enjoy watching on the holos as his Apprentice forced himself onto his wife again and again, taking her as she screamed at him and tried to fight back-

But none of that mattered if he could not FIND Skywalker!

It was a distraction, this disappearance. He wasn't blind to the fact that people were beginning to notice that he wasn't putting his full focus on what they felt were the truly important matters. But all of this, the entire war, would be for nothing if he did not have an Apprentice. His Apprentice. Skywalker.

He would find him and he would make the boy suffer for distracting him.

And he would destroy all who had kept them apart.

~MC~MC~MC~

"I can't believe that worked," Quinlan muttered as Bane set his ship down on the surface of Rathbin II. The droids had all stood down once given the instructions, allowing them to fly to the surface of the planet without any problems. Bane had been cautious but when his scanners had shown no forces being marshaled to capture them he'd brought the ship within walking distance of where the building Obi Wan had last been seen in once stood. He looked over at Omega who was looking a bit too smug. "How the heck did you get those codes?"

"No," Bant said, cutting in before Omega could answer, "we already heard that story." Omega had been quite open letting everyone know how she had managed to get into the computers and get the codes needed to get past the Separatist blockade that surrounded the planet. She had… questions… about why the Kaminoians had codes for a Separatist blockade but that would be something she'd deal with later; Obi Wan was what mattered now. "I want to know WHY you got the codes."

"I knew you were going to need them," Omega chirped as she checked over the pack that Hunter had customized for her, so that it fit her much smaller frame. "And when I saw you were going to see my brothers I knew I had to get them so I could help!"

"You knew to watch for our arrival?" Bant pressed as she adjusted hr robes, Bane opening the door and letting the ramp go down so they could exit.

"No," Omega said, suddenly growing nervous.

Hunter and Tech shared a look. "Have… have you been spying on us?" the Leader of the Bad Batch asked.

"…no?" Omega said weakly.

Hunter just rubbed his face but it was Crosshairs who answered, "We can deal with little sis-" and no one missed how Omega BEAMED at him calling her that nor how Crosshairs flinched at said smile, "-and her snooping later. We have a job to do." And with that he stepped onto the ramp and began to look around, searching for a good vantage point.

"Right," Hunter said. "Wrecker, you stay here with the kid and the droids. Tech, you're lead on this. Vos, Eerin, Bane-"

"I know what to do," Bane said coldly, fingers going to brush the handles of his guns.

"I can come," Omega pleaded. "I got the codes!"

"But you don't know how to hack into a mostly destroyed security system," Hunter said. "Tech does. You did your part, now let us do ours." He patted her on the shoulder and Omega slumped at that but nodded.

"Sides, with how things go for us things will go sideways soon and we'll be able ta fight!" Wrecker declared, Omega beaming at that.

"Oh no, no fighting for you," Threepio said, gently moving to guide her away form the door as the others went out, "we can focus on your lessons! What would you like to start with first? I am well versed in over 57 different educational modules and-"

"For all that people call me cruel," Bane muttered as he glanced back at the ship.

"Aw," Quinlan cooed, "is someone getting a soft spot for the kid?"

"No," Bane said simply, walking towards the ruined remains of the building that was supposed to have hosted peace talks. Bant swallowed as she stared at the tangled mess of melted durasteel and charred timbers.

"We saw the footage," Hunter stated, coming up next to her. "They weren't in there when this happened, General."

"I know," Bant said softly. "But they could have been."

There wasn't anything more to say about that and thus the group set to work. Bane and Quinlan stood on the outer edges of the wreckage while Hunter and Tech set to work making their way through the desolation, Bant using the force to help them squeeze through areas a bit too tight to move through or that looked unstable. The entire time Bant could feel Crosshairs looking at them all through his scope, making sure they were safe.

"Should we call for Wrecker?" she asked at one point when the two stopped at a section, quietly debating if they needed to go further. "He could lift all this up."

"No… I think we are good here," Tech said as he knelt down and pulled a wire from his wrist computer and plugged it into a charred looking terminal. "I just needed a port that hadn't been fully damaged. A bit of a spark to get it running and then we can begin." He tapped a few commands and she saw some lights flicker on the terminal.

A whine filled the air.

"That doesn't sound good," Hunter muttered.

"While I can not determine exactly what is causing that sound I can confirm that, based on my expertise, that you are correct and it doesn't 'sound good'." Tech pulled the cord out but the whining continued. "I believe I might have activated something."

"What's going on?" Quinlan called out from the edge of the wreckage.

"Tech…" Hunter hissed.

"I do believe that a tactical retreat would be best."

"MOVE!" Hunter roared and the three of them dashed through the twisted durasteel, Bant throwing her hands out and using Force Pushes to slam metal out of their path. Behind them the whine was growing louder and she could feel the buzz of electricity in the air. That only made her move all the faster, the two clones right at her heels as they burst out of the wreckage and made towards the ship which was already powering up; Quinlan stood on the ramp waving for them to hurry up, Crosshairs just ducking in.

"What the hell, Bant?!" Quinlan shouted.

"I don't know but we can figure it out after it stops doing… whatever it is doing!" She leapt onto the ship, Hunter tossing Tech right after her before diving in himself, Quinlan slamming the panel inside to close it up. Bant panted as she came to a stop on the ground, struggling to catch her breath. She looked up and stared at the others…

…and saw everything in a blackish-purple glow.

"Oh, that can't be good," she managed to say before all her senses exploded. She grabbed her head and screamed into the madness but just as quickly as it began it was over and Bant was back in the ship's main area… and said ship was rattling hard.

"Hold on!" Bane roared from the cockpit, Hunter moving to assist. Bant struggled to join him, catching Wrecker grabbing onto Omega and bracing both in a corner as he cried out in delight while Artoo screeched and slide across the floor. When she reached the cockpit she saw that they had somehow ended up high up in the air, the ship struggling to remain there as they dove towards the ground. In the back of her mind Bant found herself wondering how the hell the dusty oranges of Rathbin II had been replaced with green trees and blue water but before she could question that move Bane flicked some switches and the ship shuddered violently…

…and then leveled out.

"Good work," Quinlan said as they began to descend.

"It isn't me," Bane said, already rising from his seat and pulling out a blaster. "We're stuck in a tractor beam or something. Its drawing us back down to the ground."

"This smoothly?" Hunter said, shaking his head. "Impossible."

"Unless you have a better idea," Bane snapped. "Now then… everyone be ready."

"Alright!" Wrecker proclaimed, setting Omega down and grabbing his massive gun. "I was beginning to think this was going to be boring!"

They all prepared themselves, Quinlan moving towards the control panel once more the moment the ship stopped and settled. He glanced at them all and gave a quiet nod, moving towards the button that would open the hatch-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"What was that?" Crosshairs said slowly.

"I believe someone is knocking on the door," Tech commented.

Quinlan and Bant shared a look before he hit the button, allowing the door to open.

There, floating in front of them, was a woman.

She was BIG. That was Bant's first thought. Wrecker big. Tall with massive arms, a broad chest, and thick legs. Muscular to the point that it made Bant at once self-conscious. She was a human, with long blonde hair that swept back from her head and despite her build had an elegant face. She was wearing a rather loud outfit done up in reds, whites, blues, and golds, with a long cape draped over her shoulders. But what Bant noticed most of all was her smile. Brilliant, beaming, full of hope.

"Hi there!" she said with a rather direct mid-core accent that Corillians tended to have. "Welcome to Lake Michigan! I'm Star and Stripe… you folks mind telling me how you suddenly appeared out of no where while I was training? Because I think my bros are going to have a lot of questions about that!"