Author's note: I'm pushing all my ratings up to M. There's no smut but graphic violence that I realize in hindsight might be pushing it.
Feel free to join my Discord server: disco rd . gg / 8NPYvs9m (delete the spaces). You can talk about whatever you want in there. SW and RDR channels are in there as well.
Chapter 8
"Kriff, you're lucky."
"Tell me about it," Obi-Wan grumbled as he gripped the bandaged side of his forehead. Siri did her best to keep an eye on his face, trying to avoid looking at the Jedi Knight's bare chest. Blast, did he have to strip even that much to make sure the bandage fit on? It didn't diminish how handsome he was. It was inappropriate to be looking at him in such a manner. The temptation to explore the darker desires apart of her was almost irresistible.
Fortunately, it didn't last for long. Obi-Wan placed on his shirt and cloak, now mended to by Kaminoans, and he stretched, grimacing slightly.
"You should rest some more," Siri declared, resisting chewing on her lip at the "moan" exiting his lips.
"I'll have some time to do so afterwards," Obi-Wan said. He added flatly. "It's not everyday one can go up against a Mandalorian."
"You did your best," the woman replied teasingly. "But you're just physically lacking in martial combat."
Obi-Wan huffed. "I had the situation under control."
"Sure, you did."
"Has there been any updates yet, Siri?"
Siri grinned, pulling out the device following the tracker, and nodding. "Apparently, they're on the planet of Geonosis."
"Geonosis?" Obi-Wan asked. "Why Geonosis..." He groaned and doubled over, seeming to have another headache. "You know what, I believe it will be wise if we inform the Council."
"Yeah, maybe," Siri remarked with her typical sarcasm before she produced her Holocom and contacted the Jedi Council.
Eventually, the forms of Masters Windu and Yoda answered.
"Knight Kenobi, Knight Tachi, are you both alright?" Master Windu greeted.
"We encountered the bounty hunter. He was able to take us both on." Siri answered.
"I suffered some minor injuries," Obi-Wan elaborated. "The bounty hunter escaped, though is currently on Geonosis."
"Well done, Knights, we'll have to speak to the Chancellor immediately. Wait until further notice."
As the transmission ended, Siri turned to Obi-Wan, concern etched on her face. "You should rest, Obi-Wan, you've been through a lot."
Obi-Wan sighed, darting a hand through his hair. "I can't just rest, Siri. Not with... everything that's happened." Ah, so that was what his problem had been? Distraction...
Siri's expression softened. She knew he wasn't just talking about the discomfort during their encounter with the bounty hunter. He was still thinking about the prior's days events.
"You're thinking about Anakin," she said sympathetically.
Obi-Wan looked away, his gaze severe. "I failed him, Siri. He was my Padawan, my responsibility, and I failed him."
"You didn't."
"I just can't believe he would actually leave the Order like that. He just... cut off his Padawan braid and left us! Left me!" A pained, uncharacteristic whimper exited his lips.
Siri fought with herself slightly. But she understood exactly what he felt. Whenever she thought about how Ferus left, it just sometimes was far too overwhelming when she realized he was no longer at her side.
Yet, while Ferus's departure was crippling, she knew it was next to Obi-Wan who promised to train Anakin over the wishes of his dead Master.
Eventually, she would have words with Anakin Skywalker... only when she could think of the right things to say. At times it felt like Anakin and Ferus were hers and Obi-Wan's Younglings, and she had even watched him a few times in the past thirteen years when Obi-Wan was away and vice versa. Surely, there was a good explanation for this.
"You did everything you could to guide him."
He shook his head. "Did I? Sometimes I wonder if I was too hard on him, or not hard enough. I don't know where I went wrong."
She sighed. "You and I both know he was never an ordinary Padawan, Obi-Wan."
"We do!" He looked at her, forcing his shoulders to relax. "I just keep thinking, what if I had done something differently? What if I could have prevented this?"
Siri met his gaze. "It might have been unavoidable. He was never a normal Jedi."
"I... I know."
"What's really the matter, Obi-Wan?"
"There was something he'd brought up before he left, something I can't forget."
Oh now... "...What?"
"I lost Cerasi, lost Qui-Gon, lost Anakin, lost-"
Siri caught him swallowing hard and her eyes widened. "Obi-Wan?"
"I lost you," he confessed lowly, stunning her. "I lost everyone."
"You didn't, Obi-Wan," she said.
"I did." He pushed "I lost everything I loved because of my decision-making and... and... I wanted the best for that boy! I didn't show it at times! I know that! But I did!"
He was so vulnerable and irrational right now. Emotions flourished inside of her too. In retrospect, it was an idiotic move on the Council's part to put them together. They were close friends and had been something more in the past. And now, with the fireworks running high with the mutual grief they both had, it was to be expected. Kenobi was robotic in her past experiences; completely devoted to the Jedi Order with no thought to anything else.
But Siri didn't think about that. The way his head was bowed, his mullet hair likewise, showing actual emotions in front of her, she came to one revelation.
He was beautiful.
"Obi-Wan!" Siri demanded, pushing against his rising and falling chest, not even recognizing that she was half-straddling him now. "Obi-Wan, listen to me!"
Obi-Wan finally stopped shaking, his eyes still clouded by emotion.
"You didn't lose everyone. Anakin is still alive. And you have Garen, Quinlan, Shaak, Bant, Reeft, all of the others who have your back. Some people don't even have that much."
"And what if I lose them?"
They swore off their love years ago, but at that moment, she couldn't care less...
"You'll never lose me." That was a promise.
"I don't have you," he confessed in a throaty whisper.
Siri's lips loomed over his, and his eyes widened in surprise. Her tongue tugged at his lips for a moment. The doe-eyed Obi-Wan hesitated, still warring with duty and personal pleasure. But then, for the first time, Obi-Wan didn't fight her, allowing her tongue to delve right inside and explore his, his body arching upwards, returning the kiss with passion, hands digging for their overalls.
Anakin stared at his mother in the bacta tank, a numbness shooting through his entire body. When all was said and done, his mother had gotten lucky. Immediately following the knowledge that her heart was failing, the healers had replaced it with a heart transplant. Her survival chances increased. He looked down at the scarred ruin of his mother in the bacta tank, her form levitating.
Eyes full of pity, Padmé placed a hand on his shoulder, "Are you sure that you're ready to leave?"
Anakin stared at her for a second before looking back at his mother and nodding. "Yes."
Padmé placed her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie which did help Anakin as they walked away from the room and moved back to the HWK-290 light freighter.
He moved to the pilot seat and sat down, starting up the ship. He set the coordinates back to Tatooine, and they lifted off to Tatooine, having to finish his primary obligations.
"Do you still want to talk?" he asked, and to her surprise, there was a smirk across his lips now.
Padmé thought for a second later before answering, "How could you have done what you did earlier? I don't want to make you upset but... I-I thought your mother..."
"Was going to die?" He questioned, his face cracking a small smile. "You don't have to edulcorate the situation. I used the Force to save her."
He seemed to be fine, but still, her curiosity won out.
"What is the Force? I mean I've seen it in action multiple times but I never discovered much about it aside from it being an ability that the Jedi knows."
"Color me surprised that Master Qui-Gon didn't tell you," Anakin responded.
"I managed to get an impression really quickly," she snarked. "But he didn't mention that the Force could do that much."
"The is a defining element of the universe. It's a power that is capable of being controlled and used as a weapon, just as much as it shouldn't be used to an extreme degree. It is immaculate. It binds everything together and living energy that runs through all things. You can never find an appropriate term that describes the Force."
Padmé hummed, "Are only the Jedi allowed to use it?"
"I must be a rare exception," he said dryly.
"Hey, I'm only asking," she threw her arms up, "give me a break."
He grinned. "No, the Jedi do have extreme views but they're by far the best between them and their ancient enemies: the Sith. There are or were many Force organizations. I won't bore you with the details, but they have different interpretations and acknowledge the Force in one way or another."
Padmé had to ask, "Hmmm, are you going to join them now that you've left the Jedi?"
"No," he replied, "I want to become my own person, outside of the Order."
"One can argue that is a selfish mindset," she pointed out.
"Maybe," Anakin conceded, looking down.
"Anakin?" She pressed softly, guilty all of the sudden.
"You didn't offend me, Senator, you don't have to worry," he dismissed. "For my former Master, everything always came easy to him. He was a Jedi prodigy and everyone adored him. The Council and majority of the Order unanimously believed him to be the best of the Jedi, some even believing that he fits the title of the Chosen One to a higher degree. They believe me to be a false prodigy... I don't need luck though-I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that made me strong. It made me who I am."
Her eyes narrowed. "But if the Force runs through all things, would it let you seek your own fate?"
"Of course. The Force will not imprison you to a culture or religion. It will most certainly guide you, but you will not fall because you didn't listen to it. The Jedi's rules are counterproductive for growth amongst the Force. Love fuels the Force, giving it more life. It's not a curse."
"What stopped you from leaving them much sooner?" She asked. "Was it him?"
Oops, she may have brought up a far more sensitive topic. Well, here was hoping he didn't lash out. The more Padmé discovered about him here, the more she came to see him as an equal and not the little boy she'd remembered from Tatooine. This maturity was something she entirely welcomed, of course. Instead of a raging teenager with dashing fast hormones, he seemed to be twice his age-wiser than most people his age she had encountered.
Not mechanical, but not rebellious.
Something within her found him incredibly attractive.
"No, can't blame Obi-Wan for everything."
"Then what?" Her eyebrows fluttered.
She breathed harshly when he gave her a vacant stare, "I was afraid."
"Afraid of leaving?" She asked, slightly incredulous.
"Afraid of giving up all of it. It's all I knew outside of slavery on Tatooine and that was even more unbearable. For a long time, the life of a Jedi made sense. It took me a while to learn how to let it go, but once I did, while I regretted my bad decisions, I never entirely regretted it either."
She furrowed her eyebrows, catching something. Bad decisions? What in the galaxy could Anakin have done throughout the ten years that they have last met? She'd considered asking him, but she held her tongue since it was obviously a painful subject. Besides, since Anakin wasn't imprisoned in the Jedi Order, she understood that he must have done something forgivable or at least was making amends for: his chance for "redemption". She could respect that. After all, many others would evade talking about the wrongdoing.
"You speak of this as if you have been away from the Jedi for long?"
"You find that many things depend on a point of view, Padmé. As far as I'm concerned, the Jedi Order hasn't been my home for years."
"And you're still here, despite everything."
"Yes, I am. I've learned that you can't run from your past. You can't hide from it either, not entirely. Maybe for a while, sure, you can want to change and you might even succeed, but that doesn't mean you may have, unwilling as it may be, committed to some sort of metaphysical suicide."
"Never took you for a philosopher, Anakin." She quipped.
"I had time to think," he replied, smiling.
"But do you hate the Jedi?"
Without hesitation, he answered, "No. For all of their flaws, the Jedi do what they believe is best. There's a combination of blame that involves everyone, most of all me, at what happened." He paused. "This is my responsibility to shoulder."
"What do you want?"
"There was another who walked a similar path I am walking. He'd understood the true nature of the Force, only being prohibited by the Jedi Code from striving down a greater path."
"And what are you now?" She almost feared to ask.
He gripped her wrist, his fingers soothing but firm, his admittedly beautiful eyes flashing.
Anakin, in that moment, was power. She didn't know much about the Force aside from what was told to her, but in that moment, it was almost like she was staring at the heart of power itself. Even then, she could... almost see many people etched on his soul.
"I am Anakin Skywalker Reborn."
The arrival to the Lars' farm came with the early morning sun.
Anakin moved with Padmé following him, walking up to the people - a man and woman - meeting them halfway, obviously hearing the ship's landing. None of them borrowed to conceal their weapons, prepared for any sort of confrontation.
Spotting Threepio staring at them, obviously anxious, Anakin recalled finding him in spare parts on Cloud City and found himself wondering if he should program him with a fighting module sooner or later. After all, Revan had an HK-47 unit which was useful to him as both a Jedi and Sith. Maybe Threepio with functioning updates and such could be helpful.
Anakin recognized these two. They were none other than Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun. The two individuals who Anakin honestly forgot about in his tenure as the Dark Lord of the Sith.
Part of him questioned what motivated Obi-Wan and Yoda to put Luke with the farmers, but he knew that it was much better than Luke being raised by the Jedi; still proselytized within the Order and its beliefs, not having a semblance of ideas as to how feelings work. The Sith would have been even worse regarding cruelty and harshness. There would have been no mercy from Darth Sidious; merely a living hell with the intent to rid any good from the Skywalker children. Owen and Beru provided protection, stability, and good sense. They taught Luke to respect his elders even when he didn't agree with them. Most of all, they loved him. They didn't care that he was of any blood relation. They loved Luke for himself, for what he was and who he could be, on his own, protective as Owen Lars was.
"Greetings," Anakin said calmly, "allow me to introduce myself; I am Anakin Skywalker. This is Padmé Naberrie."
Silence passed for a moment. The man didn't register what was told to him before Owen's eyes widened. "You... I'm Owen Lars, and this is Beru Whitesun."
Anakin smiled somewhat. "I am aware that you know my mother."
"Knew," Owen's eyes downcasted, "I'm sorry. I couldn't protect her. She's gone now. The Tuskens took her."
Feeling pity for the other man, Anakin placed a hand on his shoulder, "She isn't. I found her. She's still alive."
Owen almost jumped up, forcing himself to remain grounded. "You did?! Please, come in, come in," the man invited, beckoning Anakin and Padmé to follow him inside.
Cliegg Lars, cherishing his uninjured leg and barely moving along with the help of a staff, approached alongside Anakin. Finally, he put one gentle hand on Anakin's shoulder, swiping the unkempt cloak he still wore with a gentle squeeze.
A sad frown found its way across Anakin's face. The man in front of him was dying. His injuries were so intense that the knowledge of his mother's survival wouldn't be enough. His leg was infected, rapidly spreading to his heart.
If it had been treated earlier on, perhaps it could have been avoided.
But now, Anakin doubted there was much they could do.
"I was told by Owen that you're Shmi's son..." Cliegg began without judgment and anger.
Anakin nodded slightly, doing his best to suppress his sadness. "I am willing to prove myself if you don't believe me."
"No, no, my dear boy, that's not necessary. You look like her more than you might believe. Come on, son." Was all Cliegg proclaimed, his voice not holding the sympathy Anakin anticipated, but a regretful understanding. Anakin did not need further encouragement, nor did he reject the act of generosity from the farmer. Anakin allowed himself to be led back into the homestead.
He arrived in time to assemble with the Lars family and Padmé for dinner. It was seeing the food, carefully ready by Beru, that Anakin remembered his deprivation of food, thirst, and his genuine lassitude.
"Where is she?" Cliegg got straight to the subject.
"I took her to a small mining system called Polis Massa where she can recover properly." Anakin activated the Hologram that he recorded before leaving, showing evidence of Shmi Skywalker, very well alive, floating in a bacta tank.
A breath of fresh air followed.
"Well, did they tell you when will she be able to come home?" Beru asked.
Anakin's face turned solemn. "Unfortunately, that is undecided. Her failing heart had to be accustomed with a heart transplant via immediate surgery, though what those savages did to her..." He left the words implied, his right hand clenching up into a fist. Even after so many years, he was no Saint.
Cliegg's face rose again before it deflated. "Oh, Shmi..." He closed his eyes. "She didn't deserve this. She'd suffered so much..."
"I'm sorry," Anakin replied sincerely. It have been so long since he'd apologized to someone. "I can't help but feel I share some measure of blame. I should have left much sooner."
"Left?" Owen caught on.
"I left the Order a few days ago," Anakin answered placidly.
"You could just... leave?" Beru asked.
A frown crossed his lips. "I have decided to reevaluate my standing among them when they demanded for me to let go of my mother."
Cliegg offered, "It's not your fault, son."
"It is," he denied, "I could have changed so much..."
'I wish I was sent back even sooner,' he thought.
Owen chuckled somewhat. "She told us that you never gave up without a fight."
"She told us many things..." Cliegg answered, rubbing a hand over his beard in thought, contemplating as he stared at Anakin. "Owen, go get her journal," he commanded.
Anakin's eyebrows wrinkled as Owen gave an affirmative and ran off. Her journal? What was he talking about?
Cliegg seemed to sense the question and clarified. "She wanted you to have this when you came back..."
As if on cue, the young man returned, a journal in his hands as he held it out for him, brushing off the remnants of the dust. Anakin retrieved it and stared down at the cover before opening it.
The question ENTRY? appeared on the display. Instinctively, Anakin asked for the first one, and a time stamp appeared in the lower corner. There was a place for a date stamp opposite, but a message read "Calendar file corrupted." A moment later, a dark-eyed woman emerged on the screen, looking slightly tired, her face lined by worry and weather. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on something. Her lips began to move, but no sound came. Anakin adjusted the volume to maximum…
08:31:01
… this thing still is not recording.
A gravelly voice, not as loud, said, "What are you doing, woman? told you to clean my shop. Memory chips, you clean at home."
The woman's image was replaced by the bald blue head of a Toydarian with large selfish eyes, and similar-colored wings floating in the background.
"Where did you get this?" he demanded. "Is it yours?"
"I bought it with my memory-chip earnings," his mother said. "I thought-"
"Maybe I should sell it for disobeying me, eh?" The image in the display whirled as the being turned the journal over. "But it's not worth much, I think. Back to work, or I will."
The Force itself trembled in anger that Anakin also felt. It was angry about slavery. It always had been. There was no balance with slavery; just mere cruelty and more suffering which flooded the Dark Side to immense proportions in the long run. The display went blank-the end of the first entry.[….] Anakin stared down to find the journal flashing ENTRY TWO? He continued it, and his mother's face appeared in the display, smiling.
19:47:02
You might enjoy something to remember Watto by, so I left that as entry one. He's not so bad, as masters go, and I do believe there are times when he truly misses your mischief.
Ani, this diary is for you. I know you'll be gone a long time, and that you'll be very lonely at times. So will I. This diary is so that when you come home someday, you'll know you were always in my heart. But your destiny lies in the stars. You will achieve great things in the galaxy, Anakin. I have known that from the moment you were born. So you must never believe you were mistaken to leave Tatooine. Wherever you go, you carry my love with you. Always remember that.
He trembled, his chest heaving to inhale as he struggled for shivering breaths. Strawberry blond hair curtained around his face, embedding onto his skin as it offered a hint of seclusion for his obvious grief. The pain he could feel was made legitimate. His throat tightened with every coerced gasp. His jaw suspended along with descended brows, idly traveling tears down his cheeks. His surroundings were erased, and nothing else mattered.
There, Anakin Skywalker wept.