Force Shadow Chapter 23: Into the dark, a star wars fanfic

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

Answers to reviews:

Thank you for your kind review, monkeywrench and guest, you truly made my day! little disclaimer: I might need a longer for the next chapter, grad school is quite the mission

~ 23 ~

Into the dark

- Truth, in war, is the first thing to die -

"Hey… hey! Grumpy! Snap out of it!"

Kenshin blinked, his gaze finally focusing on the Togruta girl standing in front of him. Her vibrant blue montrals framed a face etched with concern.

"You okay? You just totally zoned out there."

Kenshin shook his head, trying to dispel the fog of intense emotions that had overtaken him. "Anakin… He… I love him like a brother," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken memories. He clenched his fists as if trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers. "You're right. We have to find Kenobi! I've searched this village—there's no one alive here. Where did Anakin go?"

Ahsoka's expression softened, though urgency tinged her tone. "When we were landing, we saw two more settlements. Anakin went to check out the one over there, and the other one is that way."

Kenshin's brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the landscape. Something about the situation felt off, a nagging sensation tugging at his instincts. "Nah… it doesn't feel right," he muttered, almost to himself. Suddenly, his eyes widened with realization. "The ship!" he exclaimed, his voice sharp with clarity. "That monstrosity of a ship we saw!"

Without another word, they darted toward the massive vessel, skidding to a halt near its looming hull. Ahsoka didn't waste any time; her lightsabers hissed to life, casting a green and blue glow as she began cutting through the ship's exterior. Sparks flew as the blades bit into the metal.

"Wait," Kenshin said, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "We get in, you get Kenobi out, and I'll take care of the hornheads. What do you think?"

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, a wry grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I know you want to fight, Ahsoka, and I know you're capable. But someone has to take care of Kenobi. They've most likely tortured him, and he'll need help. Besides, if anything happens to you, Anakin would eat me alive. And I'm sure I don't taste good, so let's spare him that horrible fate, okay?"

"You're just as impossible as he is. At least now I know where he gets it from!" she teased, her grin widening.

"Pleased to hear he honors my teachings," Kenshin commented, the brief levity easing some of the tension. "But enough with the chatter. We've got work to do."

The ship loomed over them, an intimidating behemoth of metal and darkness. They finished cutting a hole into what appeared to be a cargo ramp and were immediately swallowed by the vast, shadowy interior. The cargo hold was enormous, cavernous even, with the stale, musty air of a place long abandoned. Kenshin's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light as he found a control panel and activated the ramp, allowing more light to filter into the gloom.

"Obi-Wan! He's over there!" Ahsoka's voice was barely a whisper, but the urgency in it was unmistakable. She darted behind a crate, her montrals twitching as she honed in on the figure slumped against a wall.

Obi-Wan's face was a mess of bruises, the skin marred with sickening shades of blue, green, and red. He lay motionless, a broken shadow of the Jedi Master they knew. Ahsoka knelt beside him, gently tapping his cheek in an attempt to rouse him. Obi-Wan groaned, his eyes fluttering open to reveal the dull, stormy blue beneath.

"Ahsoka?" His voice was rough, barely more than a whisper. "I sure feel like I've crossed over to the otherworld, but I had hoped not to see you here," he rasped, his usual humor dulled by pain.

"You're alive, Master Kenobi, and we're here to make sure it stays that way," Ahsoka assured him, her voice soft but firm.

"We?" Obi-Wan's gaze drifted past her, squinting to focus on the figure standing behind her. "Is that… Master Kano? I thought he was dead?"

Kenshin's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. "Get out of here. Now!"

Not a split-second too early. Two red lighsabers lighted up. All hell broke loose.

The air was thick with the angry hisses of clashing lightsabers, the sound reverberating through the vast space. Dust, kicked up by the sudden violence, clouded the air and scratched at Ahsoka's throat. The Force was a maelstrom of turmoil, a cacophony of evil intent and the ever-present threat of death.

Obi-Wan was too weak to stand, let alone fight. Ahsoka gritted her teeth as she hooked her arms under his and began dragging him toward the cargo ramp. The chaos of the ferocious battle surrounded them, flashes of red and purple reflecting off the cold metal walls

She reached deep into the Force, trying to use it to ease the burden of carrying Obi-Wan's weight, but the Force refused to bend to her will. Every step was a struggle, every inch gained a battle in itself. She dared a quick glance over her shoulder, just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to see Kenshin drawing all attention of the two Sith warriors to him. The amethyst glow of his lightsaber was a stark contrast to the crimson blades closing in on him. He stood firm, almost statuesque, exuding a chilling calm that reminded Ahsoka of the frozen caves of Ilum.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and though Kenshin's lips didn't move, she heard his voice clear as day in her mind.

Get out.

He looked like a demon, not a man.

A sudden, agonizing shriek tore through the air, followed by a heavy thump as the larger of the two Zabrak warriors crumpled to the ground.

"BROTHER!" His face twisted in a mask of pain, his hands clutching the bloody stump where his leg had been. Ahsoka hadn't even seen Kenshin's strike, but the result was unmistakable.

She broke free from her hypnotized fascination and resumed dragging Obi-Wan, her muscles screaming in protest. Obi-Wan groaned, the sound low and tortured. There was no time to be gentle, no time to offer comfort. Mortal danger clung to the air like a suffocating fog. Unlike his brutish brother, Maul was a deadly, highly trained Sith assassin, honed specifically to fight and kill Jedi. He was raw, unbridled aggression, a physical manifestation of fury.

The thought that she had almost faced him alone sent a shiver down her spine. She thanked the Force that it had been Kenshin she encountered instead, and not this monstrous opponent.

She sensed the terror of a being fighting for his life. And another, demonic entity as the menace. As she finally managed to get Obi-Wan down the cargo ramp, she stole another glance back at the battle. The fear she sensed wasn't coming from Kenshin—it was coming from Maul.

A Sith warrior, scared?

Kenshin was moving with an effortless grace, each of Maul's ferocious attacks countered with minimal movement, each furious strike met with calm precision. The Jedi's face was a mask of serenity, a stark contrast to Maul's barely contained rage. Kenshin was always one step ahead, always faster.

But the brief moment of awe was shattered when Ahsoka noticed something alarming. Savage Opress was no longer lying where he had fallen. A trail of blood led deeper into the ship, toward an open door that led to a smaller compartment.

A loud moan pulled her attention back to Obi-Wan. He was writhing, his body convulsing as if every nerve was on fire. His skin was deathly pale, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Master Kenobi, no. You have to stay with us. Obi-Wan!" Ahsoka's voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt his presence in the Force flicker like a dying flame.

Panic gripped her as she looked up the ramp. "KENSHIN! KENSHIN, HELP!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. She could feel Obi-Wan slipping away, and she was powerless to stop it.

What can I do? What can I do?

"You can do nothing, Ahsoka."

Kenshin appeared at her side, his face grim. He knelt beside Obi-Wan, cradling the older Jedi in his arms. Placing a hand on Obi-Wan's chest, Kenshin closed his eyes and reached deep into the Force.

Obi-Wan's breathing was shallow, his pulse faint. He was slipping away, and Kenshin knew there wasn't much time. The strain was visible on his face as he focused all his energy into healing, his hand trembling from the effort.

Gradually, Obi-Wan's breathing began to steady, the deathly pallor of his skin receding as color slowly returned to his face. The process was agonizingly slow, but Kenshin didn't waver. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, his own strength waning with each passing moment.

None of the two noticed a small part of the enormous freight ship detaching and speeding away.

At last, Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open, the stormy blue now clearer as they took in the world around him. He was alive. Kenshin had brought him back.

Ahsoka watched in stunned silence, her heart pounding in her chest. Despite all her training, all her experience, she had been utterly helpless. But Kenshin… Kenshin had done the impossible.

As the tension in the air began to dissipate, Ahsoka exhaled a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Obi-Wan was save. That was all that mattered.

For now.

Footsteps echoed through the quiet, and a new shadow—tall, shaped like a man—was cast by the setting sun over the scene. The shadow belonged to someone familiar, someone who had been searching, and was now returning, but not prepared for what awaited him.

"What in the Force…?" Anakin's voice was strained, barely holding back the storm brewing inside him. His eyes took in the sight before him, disbelief wrestling with recognition. "Obi-Wan? Ahsoka? And who…who are you? What did you do to Kenshin? WHAT IS GOING ON?"

He had scoured his perimeter, finding nothing but the remnants of a small ship speeding away—likely the one he had seen detaching from the massive, now battered, cargo vessel. But none of that could have prepared him for the sight before him now. Obi-Wan, bruised, battered, and barely recognizable, his tunic torn, face swollen with all shades of agony. Next to him, a man was cradling his head, and Ahsoka, standing there, wide-eyed and statue-like, as if caught between reality and a nightmare.

The man…he looked like Kenshin. But Kenshin was dead—lost to the explosion of that space station, gone from Anakin's life forever. Yet here he was, or someone who bore an uncanny resemblance, and that mere thought sent a wave of burning heat followed by bone-chilling cold through Anakin's body, freezing him in place. His hand instinctively gripped his lightsaber hilt, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white.

The man's face turned toward him, and Anakin was met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes—eyes he had stared into countless times before, eyes that had once scolded him with disappointment, and yet, there were no eyes in the galaxy he had trusted more. Except for Padmé's.

"Anakin," the man spoke. The voice was the same, familiar, haunting. The voice of someone who had once been like a brother to him.

"What is going on?" Anakin's voice wavered, thick with confusion and the beginnings of something deeper, something darker.

"Anakin. It's me."

"How?" Anakin's voice cracked under the weight of the moment. "You're dead. The space station… it exploded… How did you survive?"

"I found an escape pod, after you had left. I managed to jump in before everything was destroyed."

"But…but…no," Anakin shook his head, his prosthetic hand cupping his face, as if trying to shield himself from a reality too painful to accept. "It can't be. It can't be… If Kenshin had survived, he would have come back. Back to me. He wouldn't have just left me. This is a lie. A cruel deception!"

"Anakin, I'm real. It's not a lie!"

"If this is really you, then where were you?" Anakin's voice deepened into a growl, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. "If you were alive all this time, why didn't you come back? WHERE WERE YOU!"

"Anakin…"

With a snap-hiss, Anakin's blue lightsaber ignited, its glow casting sharp shadows on his anguished face. Kenshin, with visible effort, rose to his feet, and his own purple blade followed, humming with restrained energy.

"Where were you when I needed you?" Anakin's voice was raw, his eyes wild with a mix of fury and desperation. "You thought you could abandon me? Let me suffer? Do you have any idea what I went through? Losing you, after everyone else I lost. And now you think you can just come back, like nothing happened?"

In a blur of motion, Anakin lunged forward, seizing Kenshin by the collar of his torn tunic, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why didn't you come back? Why? Tell me! TELL ME NOW!"

Kenshin's eyes, once so resolute, now glistened with unshed tears. "Anakin. Don't you think if I had had a chance to return, I would have?" His voice was choked, the pain and regret in his words undeniable. Blue and violet light reflected off the wet drops that clung to the dark backdrop of his irises.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Anakin's grip tightened, his voice laced with suspicion. "Who says you're still the man I knew? How do I know I can even still trust you?"

Kenshin's voice was soft, almost pleading. "You can't know. I'm not even sure myself of who I am anymore. But I remember I taught you to trust no one. Have you forgotten?"

A small, trembling hand gently touched Anakin's shoulder, and Ahsoka's voice broke through the tense silence. "Master… Forgive me, but if I had lost a brother and thought him dead, and then found him again… Is going at his throat with a deadly weapon really the first thing you should do?"

The words seemed to pierce through Anakin's rage, and for a moment, he faltered. It was in that moment that Kenshin's knees buckled beneath him, the strain of healing Obi-Wan taking its toll. Without thinking, Anakin caught him, holding him up, the reality of everything crashing down on him in waves.

The small transport felt even smaller with four people crammed inside, but the little group of Jedi made do. Despite his profound exhaustion, Kenshin began recounting everything he had experienced since the explosion. From the moment the scavengers had picked him up to when Ahsoka had found him. Yet, there was one thing he deliberately left out: the assassination of Nute Gunray. That had to remain the secret of the specter he had become. He hadn't lied to Anakin when he said he wasn't sure of who he was anymore, but he was certain of one thing—Anakin couldn't yet handle the truth about that ghost.

Anakin, too, had much to share, though his tone remained carefully neutral. He had longed for this moment, dreamed of it in both his wildest hopes and darkest nightmares. But now that it was here—now that Kenshin was truly back—he didn't know how to trust it. For so long, the galaxy had only taken from him; he didn't know how to accept something being given back.

"The galaxy is in more turmoil than ever," Anakin said, his voice tinged with frustration. "The war isn't going as we'd hoped. And now there's a new threat. Nute Gunray was murdered recently. Not that I miss him, but we have no idea who did it or why. The assassin left a cryptic message about ending the war, but there's no way to trace it back."

"Nute Gunray?" Kenshin feigned surprise, masking the storm within.

"Don't tell me you don't know who he was!" Anakin shot back, a sharp edge in his voice.

"Of course, I know who he was, you nerfherder," Kenshin retorted. "That greedy piece of bantha fodder tried to annihilate my homeworld, remember? I'm just surprised someone finally took him out."

"Someone who isn't on the Republic's or the Separatists' payroll, from what we know," Anakin continued, his tone growing sharper. "Probably another one of Dooku's schemes. This whole war keeps getting more confusing, and losing our best intelligence agent didn't exactly help!" Anakin's gaze turned hard, a pointed glare directed at Kenshin.

"Fine! Blame me for things beyond my control," Kenshin snapped back. "I didn't choose to leave!"

"You two fighting again?" Ahsoka's sleepy voice cut through the tension as she rubbed her eyes.

"You, shut up!" they both said in unison, but there was a softening in Kenshin's eyes as he turned back to Anakin. "She's right. Maybe you should listen to your Padawan."

"As you always listened to yours?" Anakin retorted, the words cutting deep before he immediately regretted them. "I'm sorry," he added, his voice quieter.

"Don't be. It's been a lot—for all of us," Kenshin replied, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. "Anakin…I'm happy to see you again."

Anakin couldn't find the words to respond, but he didn't need to. His eyes, full of a thousand unsaid things, said it all.

"You have a fine apprentice," Kenshin remarked as Ahsoka drifted back to sleep.

"She's great. Just don't tell her I said that—she's cocky enough as it is," Anakin replied, a small smile breaking through.

"And where do you think she got that from, 'Skyguy'?" Kenshin teased, grinning.

"Hey! Being a Master to a Padawan isn't easy!" Anakin protested.

"You'll do fine. Just make sure to teach her some caution. She's lucky to have you as a Master, and I'm glad to see they finally promoted you to Jedi Knight."

Anakin's smile faded as his thoughts turned serious. "I wish you could have been there. I wish it had been your blade severing my Padawan braid. It didn't feel right without you."

Kenshin's grin softened. "Come on, I'm an idiot—we both know it. You were already a much better Jedi as a Padawan than I ever was. It was about time they made you a Knight."

"Hold on—did you just deliberately praise me?" Anakin's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Don't get used to it," Kenshin chuckled.

Glancing over his shoulder to ensure Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were still asleep, Anakin lowered his voice. He needed to talk about the Rako Hardeen incident, something that had weighed heavily on him. He knew Kenshin would understand the mess it had been.

"Are you really surprised they acted that way?" Kenshin asked after Anakin finished recounting the tale.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, confusion clouding his features.

"In war, Anakin, truth is the first thing to die," Kenshin replied, his tone bleak and distant. For the first time since their reunion, Anakin took a long, hard look at his former Master. The man sitting before him was different. The shabby excuses he wore for clothes hung a little too loosely on his frame. His formerly youthful, round face had lost its softness, and it wasn't only due to the hardship he had undoubtedly endured. There was a new edge to it, the eyes alight with something sharp and demonic and Anakin didn't like it at all.

"You've changed," Anakin remarked, the words heavy with concern.

Kenshin scoffed. "That's what war does to people."

Upon their return, Anakin delivered both his former Master and Obi-Wan to the healer's ward. The next day, he was summoned back to the halls of healing. As he entered, he found Obi-Wan sitting up, reading a datapad. Relief washed over him—if Obi-Wan was reading, he couldn't be feeling too terrible. Kenshin, however, was a different story. He was curled up beneath a thick blanket, fast asleep. Anakin's heart clenched; Kenshin only slept like that when something was seriously wrong.

His worried expression caught the attention of a pale blue Mikkian in white robes, who approached him. "Master Skywalker, I presume? I'm Andee Vanun. I have the medical reports ready. Master Kenobi," she said, turning to Obi-Wan, "you'll need to stay with us for three more days."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could say a word. "Yes, Master Kenobi, Master Che is adamant about it. Three days, and then you'll be as good as new."

Obi-Wan sighed, resigned. Anakin couldn't help but smile at his irritation, but his concern quickly shifted back to Kenshin.

"It's him I'm more worried about," Vanun continued, gesturing toward Kenshin's sleeping form. "He's been like this since he arrived. We had to force him awake for the initial checks, but then we sedated him to prevent a panic attack. You, Master Kenobi, reported that he used Force healing on you. While it undoubtedly saved your life, it came at a severe cost to him. He's showing signs of extreme exhaustion."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "And then there's the amnesia he suffered. Thankfully, there's no detectable physical damage to his brain, but his mental state is... concerning. He's disturbed and scared. I've been a designated mind healer for two decades, but I've never encountered shields as impenetrable as his. Even under sedation, he wouldn't allow me to see into his mind to make a diagnosis, let alone treat him. He doesn't trust me, and I don't know how to help him if he won't cooperate."

The news left Anakin baffled, and worried. "I didn't even know that mind healers exist." He stuttered.

Vanun nodded. "Healers with this specialization are rare, but we do indeed exist. Normally, I have a high success rate, but your former Master is the most obstinate case I've ever encountered. Physically, he will heal. But, and this information is for you as a Council member, Master Kenobi, he needs a period of at least a standard month for recovery before being redeployed."

"That won't be a problem. If you would let me out of this chamber, I could address the Council—" Obi-Wan began, but Vanun cut him off with a firm look.

"I said three days, Master Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan wisely chose not to argue further and sighed again. Anakin offered him a wry smile before turning his attention back to Kenshin and Master Vanun.

"Should I...?"

"Let him sleep for now," Vanun advised gently. "I called you in to inform you that, when he's ready, you should have that talk with him. I assume I have your support, Master Skywalker?"

Anakin nodded, though he was still unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do. All he knew was that Kenshin needed him, and this time, he wouldn't fail him.

The young knight had left, and Kenshin stirred, slowly pulling the blanket off his head. The dull throbbing in his temples reminded him of the strange, nebulous sensation left by whatever drugs the healers had fed him. His body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion that sleep couldn't seem to shake off.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Master Kano. You just missed your former apprentice paying us a visit." Obi-Wan's voice was cheerful, but there was an underlying note of concern.

Kenshin rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the lingering fog in his mind. "I sensed him. I was just too tired to deal with that obnoxious healer trying to poke around in my head. What are you so awfully cheerful about?" he replied, his voice cranky, followed by a rough cough.

"About being alive, for one thing. Which I have to thank you for, I suppose." Obi-Wan's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes, which still held the shadow of recent pain.

"Ahsoka deserves just as much credit for your rescue. She told me you killed that Maul guy years ago. He appeared very much alive to me! How does that even make any blasted sense?"

Obi-Wan's expression darkened as he stroked his beard, his gaze distant. "I wish I knew. I cut him in half after he killed Qui-Gon, and both halves of him fell down a reactor shaft in the palace of Theed. I have absolutely no idea how he survived, and I was more surprised than anyone to see him again."

"Tenacious borg-licker for sure." Kenshin muttered, his tone filled with disdain.

"Please, Master Kano, your choice of language is truly something else," Obi-Wan said with a mild reprimand, though a hint of amusement played on his lips. He grew serious again, leaning forward. "I am serious, Kenshin. You saved my life, risking yours in the process. You did so twice—first by facing Maul and his brother in combat, and then by Force-healing me."

"They got away, though. That was my mistake. I should have killed them both instead of just buying time for Ahsoka to get you out." Kenshin's voice was laced with frustration.

"It is not the Jedi way to mercilessly kill. Qui-Gon taught me that we are to respect all life and honor everything and everyone that lives. You didn't make a mistake. You honored the light side of the Force."

"You're a delusional dreamer, Obi-Wan. A hopeless idealist. Sometimes, and I hate this as much as you do, there is no way but violence. The next time I encounter either of those hornheads, they'll be dead men." Kenshin's eyes burned with a fierce intensity, the kind that spoke of a deep-seated conflict within him.

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression saddened. "I refuse to think that way. Your thoughts lead down a dark path, Kenshin. It takes strength to resist the dark side. Only the weak embrace it."

"You and I have very different views of what the dark side means. You're a noble man, Obi-Wan. Too noble and pure for this galaxy." Kenshin's voice grew bleak and his eyes went suddenly distant and fievery. "Too noble and pure, like my Master was. It got her killed, and I was too weak to save her. Since then, I've learned that I cannot defeat my demons. I have to become them if I want to be strong enough to fight for the greater good. There is no light without the dark. There is only the Force."

Obi-Wan didn't reply immediately, his heart heavy with the realization of how deeply his friend had been scarred by his past. The silence between them was thick with unspoken pain, both for the lives lost and the parts of themselves that had been forever changed by the war.

***** Coruscant, Jedi temple, a week after Kenshin's return

The Jedi High Council sat in solemn silence, their eyes fixed sternly on the lost and now found Jedi before them. Kenshin Kano stood alone in the center of the sacred chamber, his posture relaxed yet unyielding. The Council members, the most venerated Masters of the Order, had their full focus on him, but Kenshin was unimpressed. The grandeur of the chamber, with its white columns and golden dome, the large windows offering a breathtaking view of Coruscant's cityscape—none of it held his attention.

"Master Kano, tell us what you remember of your previous life." Mace Windu's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding.

Kano fixed his sharp, piercing glare on the tall, dark-skinned man. Mace Windu.

I remember everything I need to remember. I remember how you mistreated me when I was a 14-year-old boy. I remember how you brutally punished me for feeling grief, instead of teaching me how to handle my emotions. I remember how ashamed you felt, when I first bested you in the very art you created. I remember, Mace. I remember.

"I was a Master of the Jedi Order, though most of you don't believe I deserve the title. My role was that of a specialist investigator, tracking Sith artifacts. When the war began, I served as a secret agent for the GAR and the Jedi Order. I was the Master to Anakin Skywalker, now a Jedi Knight in his own right. And I do remember that you, Mace Windu, hate me. The feeling is mutual." His words dripped with contempt, accompanied by a dry, humorless smile.

"There is no emotion, Master Kano. There is peace! And we, the Jedi, are peacekeepers," Master Adi-Mundi interjected, his tone reproachful.

"Peace? There is war, Master Adi-Mundi. In case it has eluded you—and it obviously has—this war is ravaging the galaxy, spreading misery and suffering among the most vulnerable on the poorest of worlds! From what I've seen, the Republic has yet to end this madness!" Kenshin's voice grew sharp, the venom in his words palpable.

"This is why we seek your help in ending it, Master Kano," Obi-Wan said, his voice calm and measured. "But all in due time. It has been decided that you will stay at the Temple for a prolonged period of recovery, to ensure you're in good health and reasonable condition before resuming your duties."

Kenshin bowed stiffly and left the chamber upon Obi-Wan's words of dismissal. The atmosphere in the room remained heavy with unspoken tension as the Council turned to more somber topics.

"Once Master Kano is fit for duty again, perhaps he can shed some light on the case of Nute Gunray's assassination?" Master Windu suggested, his tone grim. "The political backlash from this incident is devastating, and to this day, none of the many investigating committees have produced any results. Chancellor Palpatine has once again emphasized the importance of salvaging what is left of the Republic's image. If a murderer could be identified—or if we could prove that the assailant was indeed a Separatist—it could work immensely in our favor."

"We must find the Ghost, indeed," Ki-Adi-Mundi added, his voice filled with concern.

"The 'Ghost'?" Yoda asked, his ears perking up with curiosity.

"Yes. That's what the assassin has been dubbed by the holonet reporters, referring to the cryptic message left by the murderer, claiming that Nute Gunray was killed by the ghosts of his past," Windu explained.

"Whatever they term the murderer, I had indeed hoped that Master Kano could help solve this case. Despite his questionable attitude, he has proven to be the most capable espionage and investigation specialist the Jedi Order has ever had among our ranks," Plo Koon said, his voice tinged with worry.

"The healers will not agree, I'm afraid, and I must support their stance on this. Master Kano's condition is, while not critical, still unstable, and his healing process will require more time." Obi-Wan's plea was firm, but the underlying concern for his friend's mental state was clear. He had intentionally spoken only of Kenshin's condition, not specifying that Kenshin was mentally adrift, far more than physically, and the last thing he needed was to be thrust back into the chaos of this war.

The Council members exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of understanding and apprehension. The weight of their decisions hung heavily in the air, as they contemplated the troubled return of one of their own and the mysteries that loomed large over the galaxy.

Having been summoned to the Council meeting, Kenshin was subsequently discharged from the halls of healing and allowed to move back into his old quarters. The room had remained untouched, preserved as if waiting for his return. With the war thinning the ranks of the Jedi, there had been no need to assign it to anyone else. Healer Vanun requested that he check in every other day, but beyond that, Kenshin was left to his own devices.

He spent the time attempting to regain his equilibrium, though it felt like trying to grasp smoke. Quin, who had once been in a similar situation with severe amnesia, was off-planet. Kenshin yearned for his counsel. He wasn't well, not physically and certainly not mentally. The Force, his lifelong guide, now felt alien to him, as if something had shifted irreparably. He couldn't tell if the change was within him, the Force itself, or something else entirely.

Was this sense of emptiness normal? He briefly considered seeking Yoda's guidance, but quickly dismissed the thought. The ancient Grandmaster had never truly been a source of comfort. Stiffer than the Jedi Code itself, Yoda had always seemed more a figure of authority than a mentor to Kenshin. And the Council? He doubted their intentions. He was grounded for now, sidelined from duty for a few weeks. That was fine by him; he had loose ends to tie up, at least on the days his mind wasn't a fog of confusion. Unfortunately, those were the most numerous—days when his thoughts refused to align, when his memories tangled and his mind felt like a maze with no exit.

On those days, he wandered the temple's corridors aimlessly, seeking something he couldn't name. Today was one of those days. As he rounded a corner, he saw a door open a short distance ahead. Out of it stomped a visibly upset Togruta girl. She plopped down, arms wrapped around her knees, pouting in frustration. Kenshin approached her quietly.

"Skyguy giving you a hard time?" he asked, his voice low and calm.

Ahsoka's head snapped around. Where had Grumpy come from? He seemed to materialize out of thin air, a habit that unnerved her. She was a Togruta, a natural predator with heightened senses—no one simply snuck up on her. No one but Grumpy, apparently.

"Hmmph," she replied, still sulking.

"I'll take that as a yes. Fancy some lightsaber practice?"

Ahsoka straightened, fixing him with a skeptical stare. She didn't know him well, but by now she was fully aware of who he was. Word traveled fast in the Jedi Temple, and Kenshin Kano's reputation preceded him. He had allegedly bested Mace Windu, defeated Asaij Ventress, and Count Dooku, and she had seen firsthand how effortlessly he had dealt with Darth Maul and Savage Opress on Raydonia. Padawan rumors even claimed that he had killed two Sith warriors before he was even a teenager. And now, this legendary swordsman was asking her to train with him?

"Hold on—you're asking me to train with you?"

"Uh, yes?" Kenshin replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Why? Why me?"

"Why not you? I need a sparring partner, practice is more fun with someone else, and I should get to work. Force knows I'm out of shape after all these months without training."

"Out of shape, huh? You nearly turned those two hornheads into finely sliced, deep fried Zabrak fillets without even breaking a sweat, and you're saying you're out of shape?" Ahsoka shot back, incredulous.

"Whatever. Now, are you coming or not?"

Despite her initial surprise, Ahsoka couldn't resist the opportunity. She had only recently begun wielding two lightsabers, and while she thought she was getting pretty good at it, she quickly realized just how much she still had to learn. Kenshin began by dismantling her technique with almost brutal efficiency, making her feel like the youngest of initiates. Then he challenged her with relentless attacks, pushing her to redefine her understanding of speed and precision.

Her strengths had always been in her speed and acrobatics. She had prided herself on those qualities, even if she would never boast about them. But Kenshin found the flaw in her technique: she lacked efficiency. He praised her agility but emphasized the importance of conserving energy and avoiding unnecessary moves.

"Why should I avoid moves when being acrobatic and athletic is what I'm good at?" she asked, frustrated.

"I'm not telling you to avoid them," Kenshin explained patiently. "I'm telling you to be efficient. Use your resources wisely. When efficiency becomes instinct, you'll be faster and more precise. Save your aces for when you really need them, or when your opponent least expects it."

"You have a point," Ahsoka admitted.

"Sometimes I do," Kenshin replied with a small smile. "But for now, let's call it a day. I'm winded."

He did look tired, she noticed. Ahsoka chuckled. "You're tired already?"

"Told you, I'm out of shape."

In truth, she was relieved the lesson was over. She was exhausted herself, but there was no way she would admit that to him. Kenshin was unlike any Jedi she had met before. He was disconcerting, intense, and—yes—creepy. But there was something about him that made her feel like he took her seriously, which was rare among the older Jedi. He didn't dismiss her as a mere Padawan or a "youngling," as he had called her on the ship back from Raydonia. On the trip back to Coruscant, he had even apologized for terming her with that word.

She wasn't unfamiliar with unconventional Jedi, being Anakin's apprentice, after all. But Kenshin was an enigma. The rumors she had heard painted a picture of a skilled spy and a master duelist, someone who was both revered and resented by his peers. He was a man who lived by his own rules, who didn't care about the Council's opinion, and who seemed to walk a fine line between light and dark. For a very short amount of time, when he and Anakin had been reunited, she had been able to read him in the Force. She sensed great kindness and compassion in him, he wasn't as unapproachable as most Masters. Then the next moment she had the impression of looking at a creepy demon, catching glimpses of a feral, untameable power burying the kind heart underneath a thick layer of, yes, what exactly? Pain and hurt where the dominant feelings she could work out before he had realized he was letting his shields slip and would conceal his presence in the Force again. Maybe that's what being a secret agent and the galaxy's greatest lightsaber duelist would turn you into. In some ways Kenshin was frighteningly similar to Anakin. Intense. And he, too, cared.

Kenshin seemed to sense her internal debate and looked at her with a questioning gaze.

"What?" he asked, not unkindly.

Ahsoka hesitated, then decided to take a chance. She had never talked about this with anyone, but Kenshin might understand.

"Uhm, I'm sorry for calling you Grumpy," she began awkwardly.

Kenshin just laughed. "You're not sorry," he said, amused. "Whatever it is, just ask. I'm not going to tell Skyguy. Besides, he listens even less to me than you do to him."

Ahsoka took a deep breath. "Anakin can be...a lot."

Kenshin nodded. "I know."

"You were his Master. How did you handle him?"

Kenshin took a moment to consider her question. "You don't handle Anakin. You just...be there for him. Sometimes he needs a friend, someone who's just there. And sometimes he needs someone to call him out on his shit. I think you're pretty good at that."

"But...I'm just a Padawan. It's not my place to call him out," Ahsoka protested.

"Bantha poodoo. It's exactly your place," Kenshin countered.

"You're strange."

"That's one of the nicer things people say about me."

"Some of the things you say actually make sense," Ahsoka admitted, still unsure if he was serious or mocking her.

"First time I've heard that," he replied dryly.

"Can I ask you more questions?"

"By the Force, just ask!"

"How do I become good? I mean, really good? You just taught me a lot about technique, but this isn't all about technique, is it?"

"That's right. You're not only talented, you're smart too," Kenshin said, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"But...you said I fight like a Kowakian monkey-lizard."

"I meant that as a compliment. Anakin is pushing you hard, just like I pushed him. The best way he can protect you is by teaching you how to protect yourself and by encouraging you to use techniques that suit you."

"Then why is he never happy? I ace all my classes, pass every combat test with flying colors, and he still seems...unsatisfied."

"That's your problem, Ahsoka. The Jedi take something chaotic and try to fit it into a rigid set of rules. Combat isn't a book. Mastering lightsaber forms teaches you how to wield a weapon, but that's just one part of the equation. Real combat is unpredictable, and not everyone plays by the same rules. The Jedi often forget that."

"Is that your secret? Fighting dirty?"

"You call it fighting dirty; I call it accepting reality."

"I still don't understand. When you fought the hornheads, I sensed fear from them. Maul was scared. And I thought the Sith didn't know fear."

"For one, I've studied the way of the sword for most of my life. And unlike most Jedi, I've committed to living by it. A lightsaber is a deadly weapon, and learning its art means accepting that it's a tool for killing. It's cruel, but that's the reality of it. To become truly good, you have to be willing to embrace that reality and by good, I mean not only mastering a technique. It means being willing and capable to act accordingly, and ultimately survive. You will not like what I tell you. You will find I'm the most terrible Jedi you ever met, and a disgrace to the Jedi Order. Fine with me, I have little respect for a rigid Code that doesn't encompass reality. I seek to understand the dark side as much as the light. Both are integral parts of a whole. When I fight, I fight to win, and I do whatever it takes and when I use the dark side, I commit to it. Unlike the Sith, I do not seek power. That is why, where Maul was ruled by his anger, I could control mine and the deadlier it became. Anger, if controlled and channeled, can be a powerful weapon."

On his way back to his quarters, Kenshin sensed a familiar presence in the corridors. It was distant at first, a faint echo in the Force, but it quickly grew stronger. Before he could fully process it, a small figure launched itself at him, wrapping its short arms around his waist in a tight hug.

"Master Kenshin! You're alive!" the small Echani girl exclaimed, squeezing him with surprising strength.

"Not much longer if you don't let me breathe," Kenshin managed to say, his voice strained.

The girl only squeezed tighter. Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through Kenshin's head, and his vision went black. He saw blaster fire, heard the deafening sounds of explosions, and felt the heat of flames. The corridors of the Jedi Temple were under attack. Clones were marching, their faceless helmets reflecting the fiery destruction around them.

Panicking, Kenshin yanked the girl's hands off his tunic and stumbled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Why are you so mean?" she protested, hurt by his reaction.

"Go away!" Kenshin choked out, his vision still blurred by the remnants of the violent vision. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his sight, his heart pounding in his chest. Everything around him was calm. The Temple was peaceful. But the vision had felt so real, as if it had been a glimpse of the future. What had the Force shown him?

Nari, the young Echani girl, looked at him with concern. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

"Just...a headache," Kenshin lied, still trembling. He forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.

"You don't look okay," Nari observed, her eyes wide with worry.

Kenshin looked down at her, seeing the innocent concern on her face. He was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions he couldn't fully comprehend. How could this small, fragile child have such an effect on him? She was so full of light, and he felt like a shadow, darkening everything around him. He had faced countless dangers, but in front of this child, he felt defenseless.

"I'm really happy to see you! I missed you! Everyone told me you were dead, but you're not! You're back!" Nari said, her excitement bubbling over as she jumped up and down with a bright smile. "Aren't you happy to be back and to see me?"

Kenshin's heart twisted painfully. "I'm tired, and my head hurts," he snapped, more harshly than he intended. The girl's smile faltered, but she didn't back down. She continued to look at him with those big, trusting eyes, and he couldn't bear it.

The young girl looked at him with concern. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

"Just...a headache," Kenshin lied, still trembling. He forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.

"You don't look okay," Nari observed, her eyes wide with worry.

"I hope you feel better soon. Because I wanted to ask you something," Nari said, her voice tinged with hope.

"The answer is no," Kenshin replied flatly, wanting to end the conversation before it began.

"Hey! You didn't even let me ask. That's not fair! Master Skywalker became a Jedi Knight, so now you could take me as your Padawan!" she said, her tone brimming with excitement.

"Absolutely not!" Kenshin said firmly.

"Why not?" Nari asked, her expression falling.

"First, I'm not going to train another Padawan, not ever! Second, you're too young."

"I'm nine now!" Nari insisted, as if that would change his mind.

"That's too young," Kenshin replied, his voice softening just a fraction.

Nari fell silent for a moment, her young mind working through what he had said. Kenshin hoped she would drop the subject, but she wasn't done yet.

"But we can be friends!" she declared.

"No," Kenshin said, more gently this time.

"Why not? I like you. So why can't we be friends?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine confusion.

Because I'm not a good Jedi, I'm an outcast. Because we're at war. Because you'd only get in the way. Because you're so full of light and my path leads into the dark. I am a Force shadow, darkening the light around him to extinguish his enemies. Because I have done terrible things and am going to do more terrible things and I don't see another way. Because unspeakably evil powers have come to life, threatening everything we hold dear and the light won't save us. Only greater darkness can annihilate this menace. While I am becoming this darkness, it will consume and destroy me. This war will end, but I will not survive. Not my body and not my spirit. I am to destroy what is old and rotten, so you can build a new world in your light.

But he couldn't say any of that. How could he make her understand? He looked at her innocent, eager face and felt a pang of guilt so deep it almost overwhelmed him.

"I'm not who you think I am," Kenshin said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't know what I think!" Nari shot back, her stubbornness shining through.

"That's true," Kenshin admitted with a sigh. "But Nari, listen. What Master Drallig once said was right. I'm a bad Jedi. You deserve good people as your friends. Not me."

"But you are a good person. You were nice to me when everyone else wasn't!" she insisted, her eyes pleading with him to see himself the way she did.

"Just...leave me alone. I'm tired," Kenshin said, his voice breaking. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face her. Without another word, he turned and walked away, almost running as he sought refuge in the solitude of his quarters.

As the days passed, Kenshin continued his search—for what, exactly, he wasn't sure. There was a resolve within him, stronger than before, yet he felt more lost than ever. Though his memories of his old life had returned, they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. It was as if only a part of him had survived, and it wasn't the best part. Everything felt wrong, out of place. While living with the scavengers, he had seen the war's cruelty in a way that had eluded him before. The horror of it all was clearer now, more vivid, more painful. He needed to stop this madness, but here he was, a wreck of a man, unable to grasp the insanity of the galaxy or even his own turmoil.

On Coruscant, the war was just another thing to watch on the holo news— if nothing more entertaining came along. The lower levels of society were focused on surviving, while the powerful indulged in their greed, as they always had. During his time away from the Jedi Order, nothing had changed for the better. The same problems persisted. The same burning questions remained unanswered.

To kill a dragon, one must cut off the head.

The words of his old sword master, Hiro, echoed in his mind. Kenshin knew he had to find his new path, to see what actions to take and where to look. He was a hunter, but his prey was still elusive.

The meditation chamber he had chosen for the day was soothing. It was a small, sphere-shaped room with sand-colored cushions scattered on the floor and delicate golden floral patterns painted on the walls. The warmth of the chamber wrapped around him like a comforting embrace, a welcome reprieve from the cold that seemed to have settled in his bones.

He tried to push past the throbbing headache and the constant fatigue, pleading with the Force to guide him, to show him the way. He reached out with his mind, diving deep into the darkness, searching through black nebulae, pushing past hordes of vile spirits. Then, a small spot of light appeared. It grew, expanding and filling the void with goodness, outshining the darkness he had sought. The light condensed into a Force signature he recognized. His concentration shattered, and his probing of the Force for answers interrupted, he suppressed a nasty profanity. Nari had inadvertently interrupted his search. She hadn't meant any harm, but it frustrated him nonetheless. His headache returned with a vengeance.

"I told you to leave me alone," he muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.

"I only listen to people who make sense, and you don't."

His eyes snapped open, and he glared at the young girl. "Excuse me? I am a Jedi Master, you're an initiate, and you're telling me I don't make sense?"

"Just because you're grown-up doesn't mean you're always right."

Kenshin sighed.

"You have a point. How did you even find me?"

"Your droid, Roku, showed me!"

Kenshin muttered a few choice words under his breath.

"What did you just say?"

"I called him a traitor. In case you haven't noticed, I was trying to meditate. ALONE!"

Closing his eyes, he tried his best to ignore her and resume meditation. This blasted migraine.

It was harder than before to sink back into the trance he aspired, until the headache slowly yet distinctively eased. He didn't understand how or why, but it was fine with him. He would not ask for the throbbing pain to come back. Then he felt two warm spots on either side of his head.

He swatted the girl's hands away.

"Ouch, that hurt!" she exclaimed.

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"I only wanted to help! You're in pain!"

"Trying to Force-heal me can kill you! Don't ever do that again!"

"But… I know how to do it! Just last week, I healed a tooka with a broken leg, and it could walk again!"

"A tooka, yes. Not a grown human! It takes years of training and considerable maturity in your abilities before you can use this skill safely. You can hurt or even kill yourself! It drains your own life energy if you haven't learned to draw on the Force! Do you understand? You could die trying to Force-heal someone!"

The girl's wide eyes filled with disbelief. "You don't want me to die?" she asked, as if the idea was completely foreign to her. Kenshin felt a pang of guilt. He sighed deeply. Nothing was more exasperating than a youngling, and Nari was particularly tenacious.

"Of course, I don't want you to die. Now that you've successfully interrupted my meditation—twice—what do you want from me?"

She sat beside him on the floor, nestling against him like a lost tooka. He wasn't comfortable with her display of affection, but he had given up trying to push her away.

"They don't like me," she said, her voice quivering as tears welled up in her eyes. She recounted her recent journey to Ilum with a group of younglings to find her first kyber crystal. She was the only one who hadn't found a crystal. Soon after, their ship was attacked by pirates, and Ahsoka was captured. Despite her own fears, Nari had managed to sneak into the pirate camp, retrieve Ahsoka's lightsabers, and free her. She had fought bravely to protect the group, taking out the pirates' guns and ensuring their escape. But instead of celebrating her bravery, the other younglings had distanced themselves from her. They avoided her, and she couldn't understand why.

"I only tried to help, and now they don't like me anymore. Why is that, Master Kenshin? I don't understand."

"It's not that they don't like you. They probably do. But you've accomplished something they didn't. Maybe they wish they had been the ones to save the group. Or, they're scared because you're ahead of them. You've mastered something they haven't. They're jealous, that's what it sounds like."

"I only fought the way you taught me."

"No, you followed your instincts."

"But… I couldn't even find a crystal to bond with me. What are they jealous of?"

"Your skill, your creativity, your courage. Maybe you're different, and people—Jedi or not—tend to reject what they don't understand."

"So being different isn't bad?"

"No, it's not bad at all. You must learn to believe in yourself. Others often won't, and for the most foolish of reasons."

"When will I find my own crystal?"

"I don't know. You have to trust the Force. Your time will come."

Satisfied with his answers, Nari pulled out a handful of candy from her robes. "Master Yaddle gave it to me to share with my friends."

"Then you should go and share it with your friends."

"You're my friend."

Despite himself, Kenshin smiled. "You should go now. I really need to meditate. Go find your classmates. I'm sure they'd love some of that candy."

Finally alone, Kenshin stayed in the meditation chamber for hours, reaching out to the deepest of his fears, searching, and leaving not a stone unturned on the battlefields of his mind.

He tried to recall the memories of the dark presence he had sensed by Shmi's side when he had attempted to save her, and again when he had dismantled Dooku's mind. But the answers eluded him, leaving him drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

His thoughts shifted to Palpatine. A year ago, during his investigations, he had uncovered hints that the Chancellor was far from the benevolent leader he pretended to be. There were too many questions, too many loose ends. Why had Ronhar Kim and his Padawan died? But nothing he had found was concrete enough to be used as proof against Palpatine. And Anakin's blind trust in the Chancellor only complicated matters further. For Anakin, Palpatine was a father figure, one of the most important people in his life. If Kenshin acted against the Chancellor, he would lose Anakin's trust forever.

Everything has a price. How far am I willing to go? How far do I have to go?

There was also the mystery surrounding Sifo-Dyas and the origin of the Clone army. And Shmi's death. An awful feeling gnawed at him, a feeling that something much darker was at play.

Night had fallen by the time Kenshin left the meditation chamber. He was relieved to find the refectory still open and quickly devoured a meal before heading to the archives. In the vaults, the mysterious amulet was still where he had left it. Reaching into his pocket to stash the amulet away, he was surprised to find a few small objects already there.

Candy!

Nari, you sneaky little rascal. He smiled to himself, puzzled by the youngling's affection for him.

His thoughts returned to the amulet. This artifact held secrets, answers he desperately needed. He went through all of his documentations and findings again, until some nefarious connections began to emerge. The Force and his instincts had at last not failed him.

Anakin had been sent on another mission, and Kenshin waited anxiously for his return. When the ship finally touched down, Kenshin was there on the landing pad, not giving Anakin a chance to escape.

"We have to talk!" Kenshin greeted him urgently.

"Hello to you, too, my old Master. You look—"

"I know, I look like shit, could you eventually let me hear the end of it?"

"Whoa, on a short fuse today? I was actually about to say you look better. Now what's so urgent you won't even let me get off the transport and maybe take a shower and have a meal ?"

"Your mother. We should not do this here, though."

His face immediately darkened, the young knight followed his former teacher in silence. The word 'mother' had woken dragons he was trying to tame every single day.

The Jedi, with all their power and resources, had never tried to rescue his mother or buy her out of slavery. They had given him a new life, but Shmi had been left behind on Tatooine. Why hadn't she been worth their time and effort? Was it because they feared she would tether him too tightly to his human attachments? Could they have been wrong? Kenshin didn't believe attachments were inherently bad. Then again, the Council hated Kenshin—or, at least, they didn't appreciate his rebellious, unorthodox ways. Kenshin had been the only one who had cared about Shmi, once he had learned of her existence. If only he had acted sooner, opened up to his Master in time. Her death was his fault. He hadn't come back for her in time. All the rules he had broken—would it have made a difference if he had broken just one more and flown to Tatooine to free her?

In Kenshin's quarters, Anakin sat down, folding his arms and pouting like a child. It was hard to believe this was the same man who was a Jedi General and Master to a Padawan of his own.

"I don't want to talk about my mother." Anakin focused on the bare room. Kenshin had never bothered to make his quarters more homely or personal. There was nothing but a sleeping mat, a small cushion, and a few blankets. Even the only decorative object had a purpose, a lethal function, disguised by mesmerizing and elegant beauty. The katana and its scabbard were placed separately on a rack, and a candle's flame flickered, reflecting off its blade.

"Anakin, this is important." Kenshin's voice was firm as he set two steaming mugs of tea on the low table.

"What is there to talk about? I failed to save her, and I'll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life, okay? Nothing and no one can change that! The only thing I can do is never fail again. That was my last promise to her, and it's a promise I intend to keep! I will end this war, I will destroy the Sith, and I will become so powerful that the ones I love and protect won't ever have to fear anything again!"

"You have not failed your mother and the only and very way you can fail her, or everyone else you love, is by obsessing over power to the point you lose yourself. To the point you would to things they would never want you to do. If this prophecy of yours is true, then you will bring balance to the Force. I read it as that you will bring good to this galaxy, that you will save millions of lives. You told me it was your dream to become a Jedi and I know you. You wanted this only so you could help others. Would your mother have wanted you to forgo all of that to stay with her? You did not fail her! Her death is not your fault."

"It is very much my fault, Kenshin! I did never go back for her when I still could have. Why do you have to turn that knife in my wound and drag it all back to the surface?"

Kenshin pulled the Sith amulet from his pocket and placed it in front of Anakin on the table. He prayed to the Force that the younger Jedi was ready for what he was about to reveal.

"Your mother, Anakin, was murdered. Her death was staged. Someone commissioned the Tuskens to kidnap and torture her, and they used this"—he pointed at the amulet—"to manipulate the Force, ensuring she would die. Why couldn't I save her? I'm certain now that someone interfered to make sure she wouldn't survive."