Author's note: this chapter has been edited to erase grammar and spelling mistakes

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Dear Scarease: yes, time to save a mother, or try at least. If it's not too late…

Dear Guest: Thank you for your review and your elaborate discussion, I did enjoy reading it a lot! Don't worry, Kenshin is as distrustful as it gets and he does suspect Dooku to have fallen and be culpable of many things at this point. He talks about it with Obi-Wan who still can't believe that the man who trained his own revered Master Qui-Gon, could have turned to evil.

Both Dooku and Kenshin are harsh critics of the Jedi Code and the ways of the Jedi. But beyond that, where Dooku claims himself an aristocratic purist, Kenshin is a ruthless pragmatist and has no problems fighting dirty if he sees an advantage in it. He's an exquisite swordsman before anything else, but while Dooku surely admires his skill, he probably despises his attitude.

We haven't seen a duel between them yet, or have we? The identity of the dark lord, who got nearly killed by Kenshin, is still unknown. As you expertly describe, Dooku is a Master of Makashi and its extreme precision, even more dangerous due to him using the dark side. Both Makashi and Vaapad emphasize speed.

Kenshin's style is an altered form of Vaapad – strongly influenced bu his childhood training (inspired by Musashi Miyamoto's Niten Ichiryu).It's a more precise, stylized variant compared to Windu's Vaapad, but still requires brute physical strength and is very energy expensive. If Kenshin lacks the endurance to withstand a prolonged fight – and Dooku is, with his efficiency, good at drawing it out – this could be his downfall. Vaapad is also, however, a mindset (see the novel "Shatterpoint"), and one that Kenshin takes to much greater lengths than Windu ever would. We've seen Kenshin reach deliberately into the dark side and use violent dark side powers such as Force lightning and brutal mind assault/ Force drain. Because he's a Jedi, supposedly aligned with the light, it will be a problem in more than one way. There's more than one way to fall and he may not be as immune to dark side corruption as he thinks. But it does make him a vicious, supremely dangerous opponent.

~ 18 ~

Home at last

- Some battles, you cannot win. But even if you can save only one soul, isn't that still worth fighting for? -

Her life was one of public service. That was, after all, everything she had ever wanted, what she had sworn her life to. And then this young man, whom she had remembered as a mere boy, had burst into her life. He was no boy anymore. By feeling what he did, and admitting it to her, he was probably breaking even more rules than she would if she gave in to it. And feel the same, oh how she did! Anakin had stirred something in her that she didn't remember possessing. With him, she wasn't a Queen or a senator, having to always carefully judge what those around her said, worrying about an entire star system. With him, she could be just Padmé, free and carefree. With him by her side, her world turned bright and sunny, and for a moment, she wasn't bearing the weight of the important roles she usually had to fill. The safety and fate of Naboo and the galaxy entire, always at the forefront of her mind, retreated into the background as the young man teased her and made her laugh and giggle. She couldn't grasp how there could be so much innocence and so much intensity in his eyes all at the same time. She felt things she hadn't known existed. Was this... what she was feeling, was it what she thought it was? Was this love?

A scream! It startled her out of her thoughts and she jumped up from her bed, but then heard nothing. She grabbed a light coat to cover herself over the nightgown she wore, becoming suddenly conscious of how revealing it was. Then she stepped outside.

Anakin had his feet firmly planted on the ground, his shoulders squared and focused on the cool breeze gently blowing over the terrace by the quiet, still misty lake, desperately trying to calm his mind. He noticed Padmé's presence behind him. He must have screamed and woken her up since she had followed soon after he had walked outside to glance over the deep blue water. Her presence was soothing, but even she couldn't chase away the hurt and terrors haunting him even now that he was awake. He didn't know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but he couldn't possibly abandon his duties. Not now. Or could he?

A shadow abruptly darkened the slowly rising sun, and Anakin couldn't believe what he saw when the silhouette of a modified ARC-170 fighter appeared against the sky as the stealth shields were deactivated and the Kage, Kenshin's ship, became visible. Kenshin leapt off the open boarding ramp onto the terrace and landed smoothly. With a worried expression, he glanced first at Padmé, then his apprentice.

"Master... how... what are you doing here? What is the meaning of this?" Not that he wasn't glad to see him, he just had absolutely no idea why his Master had appeared so unexpectedly, how he even had found out where he and Padmé had retreated to. Maybe this place wasn't as safe and secluded as they had thought. Or maybe Kenshin was really that good of a tracker.

"You tell me," his Master said, his voice carrying a mix of concern and urgency. "I sensed you were in pain. Terrible pain. I thought you were in danger!"

The Padawan shied away from his mentor's glance. Padmé remained silent, her eyes wide with concern.

"Anakin, please! Tell me what's going on! Let me help you!" Kenshin pleaded, his eyes dark and intense, filled with understanding and compassion.

"There's nothing wrong. Just a bad dream, nothing of importance!" Anakin's voice was strained, trying to mask the turmoil inside him.

"A bad dream so intense even I can sense it half across the galaxy?" Kenshin crossed his muscled arms over his chest and waited. Padmé figured it was better to leave them alone. She imagined Anakin would not want to appear weak and admit to anything in front of her, so she retreated to her chamber.

"I'll wait all day if I have to, Anakin. And I'll know if you lie. Tell me! Don't fight this battle alone!" Kenshin's voice was both firm and gentle.

The teenager began to tremble, fighting a war within himself. Jedi don't have nightmares. Dreams pass in time. He couldn't even remember where he had heard those words. I have to be brave, and powerful. He felt Kenshin's eyes on him, piercing but filled with empathy. Finally, Anakin talked.

He told Kenshin how he saw his mother being tortured to death, how it felt, how it hurt, how it tore him apart. How he didn't know what to do about these dreams. It stung Kenshin like acid. He knew how bad it could mess someone up, how toxic it was when you couldn't tell bad dreams from reality, when you barely knew who you were anymore. And it stung because how could he have been so blind, how had he not seen how Anakin was suffering. How had he been so busy with himself and his own demons that he hadn't seen that Anakin needed help.

"Why didn't you talk to anyone?" Kenshin asked, his voice breaking with emotion. "I can understand you wouldn't want to talk to me, we weren't on best terms with each other. But anyone… Quin? Yoda?"

"Yoda?" Anakin growled, his eyes flashing with anger. "He never wanted me in the Order, neither did that Korun devil Windu. When I was brought before the Council after the battle of Naboo, Ki-Adi-Mundi said, 'Your thoughts dwell on your mother.' As if that was a bad thing. Master Kenobi didn't think I should be trained either, he only spoke in my favor because it had been Qui-Gon's dying wish. Nobody wanted me, they took me in only to honor the will of a dead man! Every day I was chastised and scolded to let go of my emotions and attachments and how I should not even be at the temple. Jedi don't have nightmares. Jedi can control themselves. So forgive me, Master, but I have a hard time trusting anyone when it comes to 'attachments!'" He crossed his arms and turned away, pouting like he had when he had been nine years old and someone had wronged him.

"Your thoughts dwell on your mother..." Kenshin shook his head incredulously. "They take a nine-year-old boy away from his home and then blame him for missing his mother? Force, this is messed up!"

The Jedi Master pondered for a while and finally asked, "How far is Tatooine? Two parsecs? Why don't we stop by, and you show me around? I heard the weather is great."

"What are you up to, Master?" The Padawan's eyes widened as realization dawned upon him.

Kenshin's response was a stern, determined glance.

"But Padmé... we still have to protect her," Anakin said, his concern for her safety evident in his voice.

"She is safe enough here. I can have some of my agents stationed here within a few hours, and nobody else will ever learn about it," Kenshin replied. "She will..."

"Go to Tatooine with you," her voice interrupted, strong and resolute. "I'm beginning to feel a little cold here, so I'd more than fancy a trip to a warmer climate."

"Senator Amidala! This is not..." Kenshin protested but was interrupted by the senator again.

"You may be a Jedi Master, but you don't get to tell me what to do. If I please to travel to Tatooine, I will, and if you two are to protect me, you'll have to come along!"

She then ignored Kenshin and sent Anakin an intense glare that accepted no talking back. There were things between Anakin and her, things she only began to grasp. Things they had talked about the previous night and while they had said they couldn't go through with it, they both wanted it, and they both knew it. More so, Anakin was suffering, and there was no way she would leave him alone. She was coming to Tatooine with him, and there was no keeping her from it.

"As lovely as I remember it," Padmé said, gazing out at the barren brown ball appearing before them as her sleek, silver Nubian starship, followed by Kenshin's smaller starfighter, dropped out of hyperspace. The planet's stark beauty seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of space. As per usual proceedings—or rather, the lack of any—Anakin didn't request landing coordinates and simply brought it in over Mos Espa after they had entered the atmosphere of the desert planet with its twin suns. During the entire trip, Anakin hadn't said much. A sense of doom was hanging over him; he didn't know if his nightmares had been premonitions of something still to happen or replays of terrible events already past. He soon would know, and even though it was inevitable, he was very afraid to know.

In the desert town, nothing had changed. The familiar, gritty landscape seemed frozen in time. It didn't take Anakin long to find Watto's shop, his former slave master, who informed him that he had sold his mother Shmi to a moisture farmer going by the name of Cliegg Lars. Just as quickly, he had found out where Cliegg Lars lived. The Lars family marveled as two starships set down next to their modest homestead, and marveled even more as they welcomed a galactic senator, two Jedi, and two astromech droids into their home.

Not many words were necessary. They found Cliegg a broken man, his eyes filled with sorrow as he recounted how they had lost Shmi to a ferocious tribe of Tusken raiders, how all but four members of the search party of thirty men sent after her had gotten killed. Padmé stayed behind with the Lars family when Anakin bolted out of the house, Kenshin on his heels, and chased through the chilly night. He had to find his mother.

As he did find her, his entire world crumbled.

Sheer horror rolled over Anakin as they came upon the grisly scene of the Tusken camp. There had been battered and dried corpses on the way, pieces of flesh torn off by carrion feeders in the desert. The corpses of farmers, who had gone after Shmi in their attempt to save her. He immediately located the hut they kept her in. A stab of pain assaulted him as he finally saw her. She was still alive, but oh the state she was in!

"Mom," he cried breathlessly. "Mom, you have to hang in there. I'm here now, you're safe! Mom!"

Her body was caked with blood, her face swollen, she could barely get out words when Kenshin and he loosened her restraints. "I love you," she said before her body went limp.

Shock ran through Anakin, everything in his head went blank. He was still holding his mother's lifeless body in his arms. Gently, he lowered her onto the ground as something terrible began to take possession of his mind. There was pure, blind fury.

Under the pale light of Tatooine's moon, he burst out of the hut, his lightsaber ablaze. Rage was rising within him like he had never felt before. He saw two Tusken guards sitting at a nearby campfire, who just about now noticed the intruders to their camp. Anakin raised his blade and charged, and less than a second later, both were slain, slashed in half. He tensed to charge on, but met a harsh stop as something in the Force held him back.

Anakin realized Kenshin was the origin of this.

"What are you doing! They're like animals! I HATE THEM. I'LL KILL THEM ALL," he yelled, furiously turning to his companion. Rage had consumed all of him, and he was beyond the point where he could have controlled it.

"Anakin, no! Stop! Think!" Kenshin begged. "There is still some life left in her, we must get her out of here!"

Kenshin let go of his Padawan, who slowly came back to his senses, and rushed back into the hut and held a hand on Shmi's bruised neck. Her pulse was shallow and weak but still there.

"Shut your lightsaber off, they will hear us!" he commanded from between clenched teeth, and indeed, someone outside the tent began to ruffle.

Somehow they managed to get Shmi out of the Tusken camp without attracting further attention. The trip back to the Lars home seemed to take forever. When they arrived, Beru hurried and brought water, tissues, and everything in terms of medical supplies they had. Kenshin let her tend to Shmi's bruises and cuts; he himself did not use any of it. Instead, he settled down next to the woman, eyes closed.

Anakin watched, asking himself what his master was doing. Sweat began to drip off Kenshin's forehead, his face became distorted as if in great pain.

"What are you doing, Master?" Anakin asked, his voice filled with a mix of fear and hope.

He didn't receive an answer.

The Jedi Master called upon the Force with all of his being and opened himself up to it completely. Shmi was so dreadfully close to the edge. He had used the Force to heal before, but never had to save someone this far gone. Force healing was exceedingly dangerous to do if one wasn't trained in it. Kenshin did have a certain natural gift for it, yet in this case, he realized it would take everything he had to save her. It would kill him, he knew it, and he was willing to go past the point of no return. He took a deep breath and then pleaded with the Force to flow through him and through Shmi, and as he felt himself getting weaker, he pressed on. It wasn't the first time he felt himself close to death. He begged the Force to take his life and give it to the woman he was trying to save.

And then, slowly, he sensed Shmi was coming back. The Force was answering his call! He came closer and closer to the point where for one, it would all be over, and the other would live. Kenshin was at peace. For the first time since his own Master had died, he felt true serenity again. He couldn't alter the will and the ways of the Force, but now the Force gave him a chance to do something right. He was nearly there. Shmi's heart was beating more strongly again, as he gave himself into the flow of the galactic energy that surrounded all life. He didn't open his eyes as he silently said goodbye. To serve life, to serve the Force was the duty of a Jedi and for the first time, after all the failures and everything he had done wrong, he would truly, finally be a Jedi.

The world was drowned out, there was only the Force and him a mere vessel, a tool through which the Force could save a mother to be reunited with her son. Kenshin let go of the last of his being that was still in touch with the physical world.

Then, it stopped dead. There was a presence. Unfathomable and impalpable, but something dark and sinister. It was pure evil. The energies Kenshin had guided to flow and mend were abruptly distorted. A dark maelstrom ripped control from Kenshin's hands, it felt like falling into nothing and being torn apart. He had never encountered such darkness before; he couldn't comprehend it and neither did he have any success in fighting it. Something in him shattered and canceled everything else out. No sound, no sensations, as if existence itself stopped.

With a pained cry, he collapsed and laid still. Owen, Cliegg's son, rushed to his side and held two fingers to his neck, feeling a shallow heartbeat. "He's still alive," he stated. Anakin didn't do or say anything. He was paralyzed; he had felt the tremor in the Force, and everything inside him was screaming, but there was nothing he could do. He helplessly stared at Padmé, who had held herself close to him, and clasped his hands into her dress.

********** Coruscant, unknown location

It had been with a shock that he received an encrypted message from Tatooine. A spy in Mos Espa informed him that Anakin Skywalker, in the company of his Jedi Master and Senator Amidala, had appeared in Mos Espa.

Darth Sidious had not expected this and wondered why the young Jedi had returned to his homeworld. Anakin had claimed to hate the place. Had the young Jedi sensed or foreseen the doom to come? But this was not the time to dwell on uncertainties.

With a sense of urgency, Sidious began a series of complex rituals to prepare the most intricate act of Sith sorcery he had ever attempted. Doubt stung him for a brief moment until he reigned it in, reminding himself that he was Darth Sidious, Lord of the Sith. There was no room for doubt in his mind. His former master, Plagueis, had put tremendous effort into gathering knowledge on how to manipulate life, ultimately seeking to control his midichlorians and alter the flow of the Force through his own body to prolong his life indefinitely. Sidious let out a short, cruel laugh at the memory of his master's demise.

The amulet he had commissioned to be left with and attached to Shmi Skywalker was, in reality, a powerful artifact. One that allowed him to intervene should his orders not be carried out to his satisfaction. He had fashioned it with ultimate care and precision, never truly expecting to need it but now applauding himself for his foresight. Through this amulet, he could monitor and manipulate the Force around the target from a great distance.

The act of altering and disturbing the Force over such a distance, through an artifact, was a difficult and challenging dark side skill. It had never been widely practiced, not even during the height of past Sith empires. The Tusken mercenaries, tasked by his apprentice Tyrannus with kidnapping Shmi Skywalker, had proven true to their word. When they had taken Shmi and not immediately killed her but instead tortured her, Sidious had thought little of it, deciding to let them have their fun. His objective, her death, would ultimately be met. Or so he thought.

All the more he had been surprised to sense the initially slight, then increasing commotion in the Force when something began to steer the flows of energy around the woman. Her dwindling life energy was being supported and intermingled with an immense amount of power. Few beings had strength in the Force to the point they could use it to heal and transfer their own life force into another to save them. The Chosen One certainly had this potential, but he was far from aware enough of his power, nor skilled enough to use it. Thus, it could only be Anakin's damned Master!

Clearly, he had underestimated the Jedi. Nevertheless, he couldn't allow Shmi Skywalker to live. Just like Plagueis, he himself had not yet learned how to manipulate the Force to sustain eternal life, but he knew how to take life.

Applying violent effort, he focused on the amulet, halfway across the galaxy, and countered the Jedi Master's power. The dark ritual required every ounce of his malice and concentration. He summoned the darkest energies of the Sith, channeling his hatred, his ambition, and his absolute will to dominate. The resistance he encountered was formidable, a desperate and intense force that pushed back against his efforts. It took the concentration of everything evil he had in him to succeed and bring the ritual to its end.

In the Force, opposites collided, creating an explosive disturbance that caused his knees to buckle and give out underneath him. Sidious gritted his teeth, his breath labored as he fought to maintain his grip on the dark energies swirling around him. Finally, with a final surge of malevolent power, he overwhelmed the Jedi's efforts. The resistance faded, and the dark lord felt the balance tip in his favor.

As he recomposed himself, he sensed that the Jedi was not dead, but he was incapacitated. Sidious could feel the lingering presence of his opponent, weakened and shattered. He smirked, confident that the Jedi Master was in no condition to stop Skywalker's mother from dying now.

Sidious stood, his legs still trembling from the exertion, but a triumphant gleam in his eyes. He had succeeded in thwarting the Jedi's efforts and ensuring that Shmi Skywalker's fate was sealed. The dark side ritual had taken its toll, but it was a price he was willing to pay. The manipulation of life and death through the Force was a power he would one day master fully, and this was but a step on that path.

The dark lord turned away from his ritual chamber, already planning his next move. The game was far from over, and he would make sure that every piece moved according to his grand design. Anakin Skywalker would be his, molded by the pain and loss Sidious orchestrated. And the galaxy would tremble under the might of the Sith.

****Tatooine, two days later

When Kenshin regained consciousness, the twin suns were setting again, for the second time since Shmi had been brought home. He felt a cool, wet cloth on his head. Beru was there, gently wiping sweat off his forehead and offering a cup of water for him to drink.

"Shmi?" he asked, his voice trembling with hope and dread. Beru sadly shook her head. She reported that Anakin's mother had lived one more day after Kenshin had tried to bring her back, but in the end, she had not made it. She had drawn her last breath, half a day before he had woken up.

"I'm glad you're still with us. We were afraid you would die, too," Padmé said. She sat down next to Beru, along with Owen and Cliegg.

"What happened?" Kenshin asked, his voice weak and coarse. Why has the Force taken her, and not me? he thought with overwhelming bitterness. The dark presence he had felt during his attempt to heal Shmi still lingered in his mind, a haunting reminder of his failure.

"I'm afraid none of us understands. When you tried to save my wife, suddenly you collapsed, and you were unconscious for two days. And Shmi... " Cliegg's words got stuck, and he sobbed as another wave of grief nearly toppled him. Long moments passed in which none of them said a word. The entire family was aching with grief. Shmi was now gone, once and for all. Cliegg straightened his back and cleared his throat, taking back some of his composure. He was hurting, they all were. He also saw that the dark-haired Jedi was suffering just as much, giving himself the blame. Lars had no idea what the Force was, but he understood that this man had done everything within his powers to try and save his wife with no regard for himself. Shmi's passing was not his fault, nor was it Anakin's fault, and he wished that Anakin and his Master could see that.

"Master Jedi," Cliegg began, his voice shaky but sincere. "She has lived another day thanks to your powers. We could say goodbye to each other, and she could see her son, Anakin, once more. She could see and understand what a great young man her child had become," he tried to console him. "It is a precious gift, and we wouldn't have had that chance without you."

Kenshin heard the words but didn't listen. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt and sorrow. He didn't even try to hold back the tears. And Anakin? There was nothing and everything, a devastating fire in his soul eating him alive.

The young man was sitting on the floor of the homestead's workshop. He had begun to work on a broken machine but now just sat there, thoughtlessly turning a screw in his fingers and staring into empty space. There was a hurtful numbness, nothing else. Padmé had tried her damndest to talk to him and make him understand her words. He was grateful he could hug his mother one last time before she had passed. He was grateful he had been able to talk to her one last time, to see her smile and hear how happy and proud of him she had been. And still, now there was nothing but suffering in him, infernal, almighty, and he didn't think it would ever end. To Padmé, he had confided that he had touched darkness, and only Kenshin's intervention had kept him from surrendering to it and getting lost in it and slaughtering the entire camp. He would have cut down not only the men but the women and children, too. It scared him how he had not even tried to resist. What would have happened had his Master not stopped him?

"It's not your fault," came a weak voice.

The teenager lifted his gaze. It was Kenshin who stood in the door to the workshop. He supported himself against the door frame, it was difficult for him to stand.

"What would you know!" he snapped back. He knew he should ask his Master how he was feeling. From the looks of him, it was clear he wasn't feeling particularly well, and Anakin knew he should care, but right now he couldn't. He was too busy hating himself, the Jedi, everything at that moment. "I should have saved her!"

"Not everything is always in our powers," Kenshin said, his voice laden with a mixture of sorrow and wisdom.

"BUT IT SHOULD BE! WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE! Why could I not save her? You tried, and she still died. Why did I not come here when I first sensed something was wrong! I should have saved her!" Anakin's voice was a raw, wounded cry, echoing his internal torment.

"Hating yourself won't bring her back. And that, I know very well!" his Master said quietly.

"BACK OFF! SHE WAS MY MOTHER! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" Anakin's anger flared, his eyes burning with pain and rage.

"Anakin! I know how you feel!" Kenshin's voice was desperate, pleading for his Padawan to understand.

"You don't understand, Master! How would you know how it feels to lose your mother? You never even met yours. THEY TORTURED HER! THEY KILLED HER, AND I DIDN'T SAVE HER. I HATE THEM! I HATE THE JEDI! I HATE YOU!" Anakin grabbed the next tool within his reach and mindlessly hurled it at Kenshin, already grabbing the next to throw it, too, at his teacher, but was ultimately stopped and restrained by an invisible, yet firm, adamant hold with the Force.

The Padawan looked him in the eyes, and he finally saw the eyes of a broken man, and saw the same tears that were in his. And, finally, he realized that Kenshin knew. Kenshin knew exactly what it was like. Finally, Anakin understood. All the avoidance when he had asked about Kenshin's Master, the outbursts of temper when he had pried too much. At last, what Quinlan had revealed made sense.

Kenshin's eyes were filled with pain, haunted by the dark presence he had sensed during his attempt to save Shmi. It had shaken him to his core, disturbed and scared him more than he had ever been before. He had faced darkness, but never like this. This was pure evil, a force beyond anything he had encountered. It left a lingering fear that gnawed at his soul.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I know, Anakin. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I know the darkness you're feeling. But hating yourself, hating others—it won't bring her back. It will only destroy you."

Anakin's anger began to wane, replaced by a deep, aching sorrow. He saw the truth in Kenshin's eyes, saw the shared pain and understanding. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of their grief palpable.

****Zeffo, 14 years earlier

He must have screamed aloud, only that he didn't hear his own voice. The Force surged with a stinging pain in his heart, an ominous signal that something was terribly wrong. Panic and dread propelled his legs as he rushed to find her and defend her. When he arrived, the sight before him was a nightmare made real. A crimson blade had been thrust through Aerin Fay's heart, and the image burned itself into his mind, searing into his soul. A part of him broke at that moment, a part that would never heal. It died alongside her. The world turned dark and blurry as something feral and powerful awoke within him, a primal force that demanded vengeance. His vision tunneled, focusing solely on the dark-clad being with the crimson blade. Kenshin launched himself at the attacker, his own weapon ablaze.

A blood-red blur moved in on him, parried by his own pastel yellow lightsaber. Those around him who witnessed the horrific scene screamed in terror, the Force heavy with the fear and despair of the villagers. But Kenshin felt none of it. First there was rage, and pain, then he felt nothing. His plasma blade moved with lethal, merciless precision. Kenshin had become the blade. There was darkness, a deep, thick, black current of lethal energy, and it was Kenshin who manipulated, who commanded it.

The large dark-side warrior, nearly two feet taller than his opponent, didn't stand a chance. For the first time in his life, he felt delusion when he realized that this small Jedi Padawan learner, maybe half his size, had turned into a demonic monstrosity. Delusion then turned into fear for a brief moment before he fell to Kenshin's blade, which separated his head from his body. The head had not yet stopped rolling when the boy rushed to his teacher's side. Aerin was still breathing. He knelt and cupped her head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. Master Fay smiled as she recognized her Padawan now at her side, lifting a trembling hand to gently caress the child's cheeks.

"Sensei... stay with me. You have to stay with me. Please!" Kenshin pleaded, his voice breaking with desperation.

"My time has come. You must walk your path without me now," she said weakly, struggling to get the words out as life fled rapidly from her eyes.

"Kenshin – I'm proud of you. You will become a true Jedi, I know it. You will protect the galaxy. Always remember, Kenshin, believe in yourself! The Force is with you!"

And with those final words, she drew her last breath. She smiled at her Padawan one last time and passed on into the Force.

After that, Kenshin didn't remember anything for days. He came back to his senses in a dark dorm room in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. He was surrounded by people, other survivors of the mission, but he felt utterly alone. The pain and guilt were tearing him apart, an all-consuming void that swallowed every other emotion. Desperate to escape the torment, he sneaked out and ran through the labyrinthine corridors of the temple. The colorful glittering lights of Coruscant blurred into meaningless streaks. His hand clenched around his lightsaber, his mind made up. He ignited the blade and prepared to strike himself down when suddenly a pair of hands stopped him from making a horrible mistake. They were the hands of his savior, the hands he then held for one last time six years later when again, he had been too late to save the one who had saved him.

Anakin froze and stopped. "I'm sorry, Master," was all he could say before his sobbing drowned any more words he might have uttered. His body shook with the force of his grief, tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving trails of anguish.

Kenshin's expression softened, filled with a deep empathy that mirrored his own pain. "This is the kind of pain no one should ever have to feel. I cannot make it easier for you. Believe me, I wish I could. But you have to stay true to yourself, you must not give up on yourself! Your mother would not want you to give in to…to that. To hating yourself. She would want you to live, and maybe, one day, even become happy," Kenshin said, his voice trembling with the weight of his own sorrow.

Anakin's shoulders heaved as he struggled to control his sobs. His eyes, red and swollen, met Kenshin's with a mixture of gratitude and despair.

"Anakin – you made her happy. Not a day would go by when she wouldn't talk about you. She was so proud of you! You have not failed her! And she sensed that not a day has gone by that you wouldn't think of her, too. She has lived a happy life, and you were not here physically, but you were part of it." It was Owen who had come into the room and laid his hands on Anakin's shoulder, his voice filled with earnest sincerity.

Shmi's body was laid upon a simple gurney as every member of the family came, one by one, to say goodbye. Kenshin mustered all the strength he had to force himself to look at the woman he had not been able to save. It's not Anakin's fault. It's my fault! Shmi's blood is on my hands, he thought, the weight of his failure pressing heavily on his heart. Why had he never sensed how important Anakin's mother was to his student? Why had he never asked about Anakin's origins or done his own research? He could have and should have known and done something about it. Yet, it had never occurred to him to dig deeper, beyond the sparse words Anakin had spoken about his past.

Threepio shuffled uncomfortably next to him, and a ray of light refracted on his outer plating and deflected, catching on something. It was a small, bronze-colored amulet, on a string that was wound around Shmi's wrist. The moment Kenshin saw and focused on it, all sound vanished for a moment, and he thought he heard voices whisper in a tongue that rang of terror and darkness, but muffled, as if from very, very far away. Something within him stirred and answered a terrifying call, and then, from one instant to the next, it was all gone again, and he was back, here, in the real world. The candles set around the funeral bier flickered.

He called Owen and asked him about the amulet, but Shmi's stepson said he had never seen the piece before. Maybe she had found it somewhere in the desert. The Jawas or Tuskens roaming the dunes might have dropped it.

When Owen had left again, Kenshin carefully took it off. He felt horrible doing that, like a vulture. But he had to take it; his instincts nearly screamed at him. Later, when he took a closer look at it, he identified the intricate lines engraved in it as runes. Sith runes. A very ancient variant he couldn't read fluidly, but the restricted sections of the archives would provide him with enough help to figure out what they said. He hid the amulet away in his cloak, his mind racing with the implications.

After Shmi's funeral, his face puffy and wet from tears, Anakin came to Kenshin's bedside and curled up to his teacher. Right now, he wasn't a nearly 18-year-old Jedi Padawan, constantly trying to prove his worth and skill, eager to obtain the rank of Jedi knight and rise to his greatest power. Right now, he was a child, lonely, torn apart by sadness, in desperate need of comfort and missing his mother. His mother was dead. It took all of Anakin's strength to not yell and scream.

He felt strong arms, so unlike his mother's, wrap around him and gently rock him. Kenshin's embrace was firm and steady, a silent promise of support and understanding.

Anakin let it all go and let himself fall into the hold, his tears flowing until there was only void. Someone was singing softly. It was a foreign melody, it sounded like forest mornings, wind gently sweeping through lush leaves, little creeks and their clear water dancing through mossy riverbeds. Nothing like the melodies of his childhood, but strangely soothing and comforting. A while into the song, he recognized the language. Nantoa. He didn't understand the words, but he found deep comfort in them. Kenshin had a beautiful voice. Not in a million years had Anakin imagined his Master would ever sing to him. Only his mother had, when he was a little boy and had been upset about Watto beating him, or even normal small things small boys would be upset about.

"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin whispered, his voice filled with regret and sorrow.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Kenshin replied softly, his voice a gentle reassurance.

"I didn't realize that you've gone through...through the same thing. That's why you would never talk about it. Now I understand."

"It's okay. I should have told you," Kenshin admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his own past.

"You still can," Anakin suggested, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and understanding.

Kenshin sighed but began to talk. "We had been called to aid a relief mission on Zeffo, after the planet had been plagued by a famine. I don't remember what the reason for this crisis had been. We had arrived at a ravaged village, and I was trying to help distribute foodstuffs. It was exciting and challenging; it was my first time off-planet, my first time meeting other Jedi, trying to coordinate with villagers who spoke as little Basic as I did and to cooperate with beings who were supposed to be the same as me and yet so different. All of a sudden, I felt something terrible had happened. I ran to find my Master, and when I found her, all I saw was a dark-clad figure and his red lightsaber piercing through her body. I went up against him. I was not myself any longer. I was nothing but a dark, alien rage that filled and consumed my entire being at that moment. I bested and finished him. It was the first time I took a life. But it was too late. He had mortally wounded her. I hadn't sensed him arrive as I should have; I had not realized what was happening until it was too late. I had been too slow. I did not save my Master. I had failed. She died from her injuries while I was holding her, begging her to stay with me, but it was too late. The dark lord had come with a dropship full of mercenaries and bandits. Later, they told me I had killed most of them, too. I can't remember anything. When a rescue team arrived, they took me and the other survivors to the temple on Coruscant. The guilt, the pain, it was too much. I didn't know how to live with all that pain. Yoda or the other Jedi? They didn't help me. 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' What a load of bantha shit! I didn't see any way out of this, that's why I ended up on that terrace with the tree, and... Quin told you what I tried to do, didn't he?

When I ignited my lightsaber, someone showed up behind me and stopped my hands from delivering the final blow. His name was Makiri. He was a Padawan a few years older than me and we became best friends. He helped me navigate that strange world and life in the Jedi Order that was so foreign to me. For a while I believed I could make it in this life. Six years later, he died on Gentora. Again, I had not foreseen what would happen and again, I was too late, I failed saving him, too. It felt like losing everything. I know exactly what it feels like to fail. I have failed to listen to my Master's teachings, I failed to follow even my own words I keep preaching to you. The purpose of ridding the galaxy of the evil of the Sith, that I claim to follow, maybe it is nothing but a quest for revenge disguised in heroic, pretty words. My whole life has been nothing but failure! But I will not fail you, too! To give up on yourself is the ultimate failure. I will not allow you to make that mistake!"

"It feels like nothing can ever be alright again"

"I know, Anakin. I know"

Eventually, Anakin fell asleep. Kenshin couldn't. When he noticed Padmé standing in the doorway, he gently covered Anakin with a blanket and eclipsed himself. It had not been lost on him what was going on between the two and if anyone could truly help Anakin now, it would be her. 'The Jedi Code be damned' he grimly muttered under his breath.

He went outside, the moons had risen. There was not much left in him. He managed to hide it, but he was still so depleted of energy he felt sick. His efforts had granted her one last day. He had given away so much of his own life force trying to heal Shmi. He had begged the Force to exchange his life for hers and what had happened then was something he didn't understand in the slightest power had blocked him, something he couldn't overcome, and he couldn't explain what it was. Can one be angry with the Force herself?, Kenshin wondered. Why had he not been able to save Anakin's mother. It would have been a worthy cause to die for. And a welcome end. He knew it was wrong to think like that but he didn't have the strength to change it. That part of him had died, along with his Master, on that terrible day more than ten years ago. Was it the will of the Force for him to suffer?

He made sure to wander off far enough so no one would hear him. Then he screamed, and tears flowed and he smashed his fists against the rocks until the skin was scraped off his knuckles and blood was all over his hands.

He let out another cry and ignited his lightsaber. In the past months, the purple shade of the blade had appeared darker every time he used it, as if it was slowly turning to black. He raised the blade, brought it close to his own throat until he could feel his skin blister from the heat. And yet he still shivered, he felt so cold he was freezing. He trembled, forces within him fighting.

I'm nothing but a failure. The galaxy will be a better place without me.

You are needed Quin's voice said within his head

You're the Master I want Anakin had said. But how could that still be true, now that he had failed to save Anakin's mother? How could he have been so blind! How had he not sensed his own Padawan's torment, how had he not seen what was happening!

Failure. Failure. Failure

He brought the blade even closer, and he screamed, but not from the pain he was feeling from the burn. The final blow. So close!

I cannot fail him

Believe in yourself

He shut the blade off and let out a ferocious, frustrated roar. He didn't even have the guts to take the final step, said a part of him. You don't have the right to that said another. And that voice was right. He had a duty.

But he didn't know how to carry the load.

At last, he sunk to his knees.

"I have failed" he said to himself.

"Have you really?" a voice asked out of the void.

Kenshin blinked and turned his head everywhere, but saw nothing. There was nobody out there but himself, and the owner of the voice he had just heard had died a long time ago. Eventually, he began to sense a faint presence.

"Master?"

What cruel trick was the Force playing on him? Why here, why now?

"You did your best, Kenshin. You always did everything in your power to do the right thing, no matter the resistance you had to overcome. Can the Force ask more of a Jedi than to do their best?"

Now he saw it. A faintly glowing cloud of humanoid shape moved in-front of him. It came closer until he could nearly touch it.

"Master!"

"You readily see the good in people, even the apprentice you're now training. Why not see it in yourself? Shouldn't you practice what you preach, my old Padawan?"

"What is this" he asked, his voice breaking. It wasn't possible, not ever had anyone remained in the Force to speak to the living. And yet it was her voice, his master's voice as clear as it had been when she had talked to him in his childhood.

"Where were you, Master? All this time? I didn't save you, I failed you! How am I supposed to follow what you taught me, how am I supposed to live?

"You can always die, Kenshin. It's living that takes real courage. You are many things, but not a coward"

And the cloud, along with her presence, faded back into the dark. He was alone again. Alone with his thoughts and feelings that were too much to handle. He cried, tears falling into the sand and wetting the ground to his feet, until he passed out in the dust.

The rising double suns didn't wake him. A piece of metal did as a droid made a repeated effort of prodding his ribs, and painfully so. It was R2, accompanied by Roku, and both astromechs beeped frantically.

"Were in all moons and stars have you been, Master? " Anakin asked as the two droids, Kenshin in tow, came rolling back to the Lars homestead. You look like hell! He added in his thoughts

"I've been, uhm, meditating" he replied and quickly slid his hands underneath his cloak.

"Yeah, meditating...right."

Anakin had very well seen the ripped skin and dried blood on his hands, the dust all over on his clothes and dirt in his face. More so, he saw the blistered skin on his Master's neck and the burnt, smouldered tissue on the collar of his cloak. The Padawan had a thousand uncomfortable questions, but there was an even more urgent matter at hand.

"We've received a message, from Master Kenobi!"

The two Jedi and Padmé silently listened to the message played by R2, and Anakin immediately transferred it to the Jedi Council. They watched, silenced by concern, the bolts raining onto Obi-Wan before the transmission broke off.

"We have to go save him!" Padmé exclaimed

"You, Senator, will do nothing, and this time it is a strict order! You and Anakin will stay here, him for your protection. I will go after Kenobi!" Kenshin stated firmly.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Anakin asked.

"Do I look like I need help? Someone needs to watch over Senator Amidala, which was actually YOUR job to begin with!"

You absolutely look like you need help Anakin thought but knew better than to say it.

"May the Force be with you, Master"

"And with you. Don't do anything stupid!" Kenshin said while climbing on board of his starfighter. Moments later, the Kage soared into the Tatooine sky.

If Kenshin knew one thing, it was how to remain hidden from those eyes he didn't want to be seen by. Upon arrival, he had tasked Roku with taking the ship off the surface to hide elsewhere. Since Kenobi's capture, the place was crawling with enough guards that they wouldn't have to see the ship because sooner than later one of them would simply bump into it. There was a factory complex, scaling up to produce droids, battle droids, at a rapid pace. It was all too clear that that couldn't mean anything good.

Kenshin moved with the silent precision of a shadow. He found an entrance and shot down a small squad of Geonosian soldiers, thanking the Force for the blaster at his side. He then deployed a hand grenade a bit further away to draw the guards' attention away from his position, and he was in.

Navigating through the labyrinthine Geonosian complex seemed to take hours. The air was thick with the metallic scent of machinery and the echo of clanking droid parts. His senses were on high alert, every nerve taut with anticipation. Finally, he found Kenobi. Alive, which was a good start. Suspended, in shackles and an elderly gentleman just about stepped into the retention chamber. Kenshin swiftly withdrew into hiding and observed Kenobi's host. His attire was regal, well-tailored, and held in sophisticated brown colors. Unlike his own Force signature, the man's presence in the Force was not hidden, so Kenshin recognized him all too well. His opponent from this hideously luxurious space yacht!

Now, if I haven't seen you before! Kenshin thought, drawing the Force cloak around him even tighter, concealing his signature to the point of total invisibility.

"Traitor," Obi-Wan greeted the old man, his voice laced with disdain.

Dooku's following sermon about Qui-Gon and the corruption in the Senate didn't tell Kenshin anything new until the Serennian said, "What if I told you that the Senate was now under the control of the dark lord of the Sith?"

"No, that's not possible. The Jedi would be aware of it," Kenobi replied, his voice filled with disbelief.

Kenshin shook his head. That's exactly what I mean. Can we be so sure? But even I haven't found answers. Yet… he thought.

"...called Darth Sidious..." "the viceroy of the Trade Federation was once in league with this Darth Sidious, but he was betrayed, ten years ago, by the dark lord. He came to me for help and told me everything..."

Kenshin decided to make sense of all of this later; for now, he just listened. But this was mind-blowing, to say the least. At the end, Dooku attempted to sway Obi-Wan to join him, and of course, the steadfast Jedi Knight did not concede. Now, time to think of a way to free his fellow Jedi and get him out of here. Briefly, he considered doing it the quick and hard way, but that might attract more attention than even he was able to deal with.

When Dooku had finally left, Kenshin dropped himself to the ground, in front of a very astonished Obi-Wan.

"Shhhhh," Kenshin gestured, his eyes darting around for any sign of guards, and tried to cut the shackles, to no avail. Lightsaber-proof material. He suppressed a hearty curse. He'd have to hijack and bypass the electronic systems to deactivate the energy field holding Obi-Wan in place. It was of a make that was controlled by a central unit, not locally, and would be a lot harder to take out. Better he'd find the control room.

"Looks like you'll have to hang in there a little longer," Kenshin whispered, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Very funny," Obi-Wan gave back, his tone dry but laced with relief at seeing his unexpected savior.

Kenshin tried to access and override the signal from where he was but met no success. Whoever had designed this complex and its defense systems clearly had had no shortage of resources nor ingenuity. He mouthed a silent "hold on" to Obi-Wan, who nodded in acknowledgment, and was on his way.

Navigating the complex, Kenshin's heart pounded in his chest. The presence of the dark side lingered heavily in the air, a constant reminder of the danger they were in. His thoughts raced as he made his way to the control room. The memory of the sinister power he had sensed while trying to save Shmi haunted him, filling him with a dread he couldn't shake. It was a darkness that had nearly consumed him, and now it threatened to do the same to the galaxy if left unchecked.

As he moved stealthily through the corridors, his mind wandered back to the funeral on Tatooine. The amulet he had taken from Shmi's wrist felt like a lead weight in his pocket, a dark artifact that needed to be understood. But there was no time for that now. Obi-Wan needed him, and they had to get out of this place.

He reached the control room and carefully dispatched the guards stationed there. His hands moved with practiced efficiency over the control panels, his mind focused on the task at hand despite the turmoil within. Finally, he managed to deactivate the energy field and the shackles binding Obi-Wan.

Making his way back to Kenobi, Kenshin couldn't help but feel a grim satisfaction. They were one step closer to escaping, but the real battle was far from over. He only hoped they could make it out in one piece and that the information they had gathered would be enough to turn the tide against the darkness threatening to engulf them all.

******Tatooine, a bit earlier

Once more, R2 rushed to Padmé, frantically beeping and announcing a message.

"It's Roku, Kenshin's droid, he's contacting us" she said to Anakin.

The two young people listened as R2 played what he had received but the message was hard to understand.

"What's he saying? I understand binary, but that droid seems to be talking gibberish!"

"It's Kenshin's droid, what do you expect! R2, can you clear that up for us a little?"

R2 did as asked and Anakin didn't like at all what he heard.

"He tried to contact Kenshin, but lost track of him, and he had to take the Kage back into orbit because there were too many patrols on the planet surface after Master Kenobi had stirred it all up. And before he took the ship out, there was more shooting, and an explosion at Kenshin's last known location" Anakin summed up.

"But that means that Kenshin is in trouble, too!"

"Looks like it. Wouldn't be the first time."

"So why are we sitting idly by? We have to go!"

"Padmé, the Council gave me strict order to protect you! I cannot just fly to Geonosis and waltz in there to get Kenshin and Master Kenobi out of there. Kenshin is more than capable of taking care of himself!"

"Maybe you can't, but I can! "

"Padmé, you should never even have left Naboo to begin with" Anakin protested. "Although I was glad you are here with me" he added gratefully but with sadness.

"Listen, the Jedi on Coruscant will never arrive in time to help either of them. We have to go. And who knows, it's probably for the better, maybe I can find a diplomatic solution to this mess and nobody needs to fight at all!"

"Ugh, why do I even try arguing with you!" Anakin conceded.

The arena was vast and dusty, its oppressive heat radiating from the sandy ground. At its center, the lone Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was chained to a tall column, his silhouette stark against the bright sunlight. The audience, a few hundred Geonosians, let out excited cries in anticipation of the promised spectacle. As Kenshin's eyes meticulously scanned the surroundings, he took in every detail. On a palatial and lavishly furnished tribune, protected by an abundance of Geonosian guards, there sat Dooku. In his company was a human male in Mandalorian gear, possibly the man who had shot Amidala's failed assassin, and two Neimoidians. Kenshin recognized Nute Gunray and felt a short surge of regret for not having hunted him down a few years earlier.

He had not done so, assuming that would he cut this one off, he soon would have been replaced by the next, and also, Jedi didn't seek revenge. Driving the Trade Federation off his home planet of Nanta should have been enough. Maybe he should have followed his lowly but accurate instincts rather than the tenets of the Jedi in Gunray's case. He pondered if he should be correcting this lapse right now. The guards and the Mandalorian didn't represent much of a threat. Dooku was a respectable opponent, but a challenge he'd savor. Especially now that he wasn't halfway incapacitated by injury and very well in a condition to give the Count a serious headache or worse. If he did that, however, there would be no way of protecting Kenobi in the meantime, and getting his fellow Jedi out of this mess was what he had come for in the first place. He'd have to take care of Dooku and his high society afterwards.

Kenshin's mind raced, constructing a plan to get Obi-Wan out. Just as he was considering his options, another carriage was pulled into the arena. His eyes widened with utter surprise when he saw Padmé and Anakin.

"Great, that makes things easier!" he muttered, inaudibly in order not to give his hiding spot away. He had no idea why and how his Padawan and the senator had ended up in that predicament, and he would make sure Anakin wouldn't know what hit him once he'd get a chance to drown the boy in his wrath. But for now, he got to work.

He carefully positioned an explosive—out of experience, he always carried some in his belt since they often came in handy—and brought the remote to life. Upon activation, it would kill a few of the Geonosian spectators, but he'd need the distraction if he wanted to have a realistic chance to save the life of not one, but now two Jedi and Padmé without any of the three getting blasted to dust. Then he moved to place charges in a few more different spots. More distractions.

Meanwhile, Padmé, Anakin, and Kenobi did an impressive job at keeping the beasts at bay that had been unleashed at them. The Nexu, Acklay, and Reek were formidable foes, but the three captives worked in unison, their movements precise and coordinated. Kenshin couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for Anakin's skill and determination. At least one thing he didn't have to worry about. Until more company in the form of several droidekas rolled into the arena.

Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin had their lightsabers on them. Kenshin's heart pounded as he calculated the distance to the ground of the arena. Without a second thought, purely upon reflex, he drew both of his blades and leapt.