Chapter 15 – Tatooine's Shadow

Author's Note: Sooo, I've got a couple announcements.

One, I finished writing the first Act, and it'll be a total of 19 chapters, so savor them carefully, because I won't be able to start posting Act II until after the third season of the Bad Batch has finished coming out, unfortunately.

Two, there is a time skip from the end of the last chapter and the beginning of this one. ^-^ As of now, it's been almost half a year since the Empire formed. :P

~ Amina Gila

The so-called "freedom" network has always existed on Tatooine in some form or other, and Jabba has done his best to squash it time and again. It hurts business, but no matter how many resources he throws at it, it still perseveres, like a pesky thorn that won't go away.

And then, the Shadow came.

The Shadow, who's identity is unknown to this day, who has scared – and killed – some of the best of Jabba's men. The Shadow, who is building a secret, untraceable network, who is rallying people to rise up and cast off their chains. The Shadow, who is known solely as the Shadow, a masked vigilante in black armor who strikes in the dead of night, killing indiscriminately and stealing slaves away. Jabba and the Tatooinian business class hate – and admittedly fear – him. The slaves revere him. It makes them… rebellious. Already, he's had to replace his slave girl when the previous one tried to kill him with her chain.

It had not gone well for her, but the fact that she had tried –

The slaves are growing restless, defiant, and Jabba needs to do something about it before the situation gets too far out of hand. He's assigned his best people to it, hired outside bounty hunters with a million-credit reward for anyone who can successfully track and eliminate the Shadow.

But the Shadow, it seems, actually is a shadow.

No traces of him can be found during the day; it could be anyone, anyone at all, and Jabba is not ignorant of the fear that many have, wondering if the Shadow is someone close to them, someone they know. No one survives the Shadow except the slaves who sing his praises, and there's no way of knowing what is the truth and what is merely legend.

Despite the increasing pressure, the Shadow is still out there, still working, and it makes Jabba angry, because this is his territory. This – this Shadow has no place here, and he looks forward to the day when it can be crushed once and for all. Maybe when the slaves see that the myths are exaggerated, that their so-called "savior" is nothing more than another, very mortal, fraud, they will summit and stop fighting. They only make it harder for themselves when they resist, after all.

Almost every slave owner's death is being attributed to the Shadow now, whether in daylight or not, and this whole thing is getting majorly out of hand. Some are now claiming he's a Jedi, because they claim it's the only thing which can explain the inexplicable deaths by choking that happen sometimes during the day. It needs to be dealt with. Jabba cannot allow the Empire to get involved – because he knows they would do it in a heartbeat if they could claim jurisdiction. This is his territory. He doesn't want the Empire here.

Only one sighting of the Shadow has been verified to date, several weeks ago, in the aftermath of an attack on a transport carrying slaves to Mos Espa from Mos Eisley.

The witness spoke of a man in black armor, wielding a blood-red sword, cutting through the guards as though it was nothing, and when the resistance grew, he become the eye of a storm. In the blink of an eye, the sand stirred around him, whipping into a whirlwind, red lightning crackling, the storm not quite loud enough to drown out the screams of the guards as they died. When it was over, the slaves were all gone along with the Shadow, leaving the transport on fire, bodies strewn all over the ground.

Jabba knows the Jedi; he worked with them sometimes during the Clone Wars, and he knows that the Shadow is no Jedi. No Jedi would mete out such violence on others. It actually reminds him of Maul, when he came to Tatooine during the war, seeking an alliance, and though Jabba is unwilling to say it aloud, he is beginning to wonder if the Shadow is actually a Sith. And that is something he cannot allow to reach the Empire under any circumstances whatsoever.

He needs to crush this Shadow once and for all, and to do it, he'll need more resources. And he knows just where to get them.

**w**

Padme hears the whispers from Sabe, late in the evening one day when she's recovering from a long, tiresome Senate session. She's still in the Senate, still tirelessly fighting for justice and for freedom, fighting with Riyo Chuchi for the clones, fighting to give them rights, especially now that the Empire is considering replacing them with enlisted troopers in the wake of Kamino's fall. She's fighting, but it feels like it's going nowhere. It feels like she should be doing more.

She has hardly seen her children, except over holos when she calls Sola and her parents, and she misses them fiercely. Whenever she feels herself begin to falter, begin to question if all of this is worth it, she takes out a picture of them, of her twins, staring at their faces as she reminds herself why she's doing this. She's doing this for them. She will do anything for them, to protect them from Palpatine. She will not let him take them or hurt them.

"I'm still in communication with some of my contacts on Tatooine," Sabe tells her, combing through her hair as she prepares to put it into a simple braid for bed, "And I've been hearing more and more rumors of… someone. They call him the Shadow. He's killing slavers, freeing slaves, rallying the people to stand up to Jabba. We've gotten a lot of freed people coming through the network who are being transported off-world."

Her heart lurches, skipping a beat, and for a moment, she can't breathe.

Once, years ago, Anakin had told her of his dream to return to Tatooine, to free the slaves there. It had been his most ardent desire, something he'd wished for deeply, and it was because of that, because of him, that Padme had sent Sabe there after her terms as Queen were over. Sabe had helped where she could, alternating between helping on Tatooine and helping her as her handmaid and best friend.

"It's him," Padme whispers, reaching up to touch the japor snippet that's around her neck. She's carried it with her everywhere, and now especially, because it brings her comfort. It reminds her of the man she loves more than anything except her children. "It's Anakin."

She meets Sabe's eyes in the mirror, sees the half-smile on her best friend's face. "Yeah," she agrees, "I had wondered that, too."

"We can't let the word get out," Padme says, voice level and hard. "We cannot let Palpatine hear any rumors of this."

Sabe squeezes her shoulder. "Already on it. I knew it had to be a Jedi, even if it wasn't Anakin, and I've given instructions. The network is working to keep the rumors down, to add embellishments and Tatooinian myths to them. The Empire should not pay it any mind. They're too busy, anyway, with all the unrest."

"Good," Padme replies fervently, passionately. "Let's keep them busy, if we can. Let's keep them away from Anakin."

**w**

It's been weeks since Obi-Wan has come to Alderaan. Weeks and weeks and weeks, and it feels more like years than the three or four months that it's actually been. He has, admittedly, somewhat lost track of time. He has helped Bail when he can, offered whatever aid to the Organas that he's able. He's so… restless. He has nothing here, nothing to do except exist, and after the war, it's not something he's accustomed to anymore.

He promised Anakin that he would watch over Anakin's family, but it's hard to do that from afar, hard when he knows that being in their vicinity would be more likely to bring harm to them than anything else. But Obi-Wan is tired of hiding; he wants to act. He wants to help, to cause as much trouble for Sidious as he can, to let him know that he's still out here, still fighting. These feelings, this anger, is of the Dark Side, and he works hard to let it go to the Force, but that, too, is hard when the Force itself is so dark. It still feels of death, even weeks later.

He's angry, and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't want revenge for the destruction of the Jedi Order, even if many Jedi survived, thanks to Anakin.

Obi-Wan needs to do something, and he says as much to Bail, on one of the Senator's trips back to Alderaan when they speak about the state of the galaxy.

"You are not the only Jedi to feel that way," Bail informs him. "All over the galaxy, there have been various rumors and reported sightings of Jedi who are carrying out attacks on Imperial bases. For now, there are only a handful of them, a few dozen, but it shows the beginnings of a major problem for the Empire. Insurgents they can kill, but Jedi are notoriously difficult to eliminate in such a way."

"Are these sightings real?" Obi-Wan queries, hope stirring in his chest. He is not one of the last of his people, and he knows that, but sometimes, he can't help but feel alone.

"Some of them are, yes," Bail replies. "Some, I imagine, are fake, but we have validated reports of an unknown vigilante with a blue lightsaber who has been taking out Imperial bases in different sectors."

Blue.

Anakin.

"Is it –?" he begins, hardly even daring to hope.

Bail knows what he's asking without him even having to finish the question. "I don't know," he answers, shaking his head. "Blue is not exactly an uncommon lightsaber color, though, so we have no reason to suspect it's him." He pauses, the briefest hesitation that makes Obi-Wan wonder if he does think it's Anakin, even so, but he just doesn't want to get Obi-Wan's hopes up. "Some… Imperial chatter indicates it could be him, and we've assembled a file on what is known of this particular individual as well as other suspected targets that he's hit."

He sets a datapad on the table, sliding it across to Obi-Wan. "This is what we've been able to ascertain."

Obi-Wan picks it up, staring down at the screen, half-reaching for the button to turn it on before stopping. "So you do think it's him," he states, a myriad of emotions beginning to rise up in his chest at the prospect of being able to find Anakin, of being able to see him again. Anakin wanted him to keep his distance, because he thought it would be dangerous, and he's probably right, but the one thing Obi-Wan is certain of is that he'll never truly be able to stay away from Anakin.

He had thought they'd be parted on his mission to Cato Neimoidia, since it was right after Anakin's Knighting, and he had felt so… lost, almost, without Anakin at his side. But Anakin came back, came to save him, even if he did not need it, and he proved then that nothing could keep them apart. They were always meant to be together.

The same is true now, and Obi-Wan has every intention of investigating this lead, of seeing if this mysterious blue lightsaber wielding vigilante is really Anakin like he half thinks and hopes, and if it is… he will join him.

He's been in hiding for long enough.

**w**

"I know you're doing something at nights." Beru's voice makes Anakin freeze in place, which he realizes a moment later only makes him look guilty.

"I – why would you think that?" he deflects. He still hasn't told them what he's been doing. At first, it was because he wanted to do it on his own, but later, it became about safety. He was afraid, once his network started growing, once he became more popular, once he got the nickname of the Shadow, that if they knew, it would put them in danger, and admittedly, he wasn't sure how to even begin explaining everything, either.

"I know you were a Jedi," she replies, a little amused, "And you must have heard the rumors of the Shadow."

Yes.

He has.

He's also been trying to avoid looking at them too much, since he doesn't really want to listen to all of the hero worship that he's been getting. Still, the knowledge that so many slaves consider him a beacon of hope is… uplifting, soothing. It comforts him to know that he's been helping people, especially after his failure with the Jedi. It's made him more confident in himself, in his ability to help. It's been just what he needed, having something to do which will help while simultaneously letting him remain in the shadows, unseen. He's never wanted to be the center of attention, and it makes him uncomfortable. What he wants is to – to be recognized by the people close to him. He's only ever wanted to be good enough for them.

"Yeah," he answers, a little sheepishly, because the secret is out, and there's no use in continuing to hide it. "I – I'm the Shadow."

It feels so freeing to admit to it, and he's more than a little taken aback when she moves to him, hugging him tightly. "Shmi would be proud," she whispers, before stepping back, "So proud, and I am, too."

He flushes, ducking his head, completely overwhelmed by the praise. He hadn't expected it. The gratitude he's gotten from the slaves he has freed has been enough, more than enough, and he… he knew Owen and Beru would be glad that he's doing what he is, but not – not like this, and it makes something inside of him curl up happily. He has a family now, people who care about him, and sometimes, it's hard for him to remember that. He doesn't have to do everything alone. He doesn't have anything to prove to them.

He was used to being that way with his mother, but after he went to the Temple, that changed somehow, somewhere along the way, and it's not something he particularly cares to look at. This is enough.

"I need your help," she says, "On a mission. I need you to meet with a member of the Trail, as the Shadow probably." A pause, "Although they would like to know who you are, too. Jabba has been raising taxes for the moisture farmers, and it's been rough for all of us. I – they're going to be coming here next, and we can use some of the funds the Trail is planning on seizing, but they'll need your help to get them."

Anakin sobers at her words because he's heard it, too. He knows of the burden that's been placed on the moisture farmers and how much they're struggling now. He feels guilt for it, because he knows that it's because of him, because of the Shadow, because of Vader. They're hurting, and he needs to fix it if he can. Ideally, that would mean taking the fight to Jabba, but he doesn't think he's ready for that, not for the politics that will be involved.

"Of course, I'll go," he promises her.

He leaves that night, heading out towards the rendezvous point that Beru gave to him, and when he arrives, there are two figures there who meet him. When he sees them, feels them in the Force, his heart drops to his stomach in shock, because he knows them. He knows them. Kitster and Wald, his best friends when he was growing up here on Tatooine. He hadn't known what had happened to them, and he would never have guessed that they'd become important leading figures in the Trail.

The duo relax a little when they see him, but he can still sense their curiosity and awe as they study the imposing figure that he makes, cloaked in armor and shadows, anonymous. "Beru said you were coming," Kitster states at last. "I didn't ask how she got into contact with you."

"That is for the best," Anakin replies. He should tell them who he is; he knows they would be relieved to see him, to know what he's doing, but he hesitates, because the more people who know, the greater the risk is. Until Tatooine is secure, he cannot go around telling others of his identity. It isn't safe for them or him or Reva.

Kitster nods, taking it in stride, and they move out towards the edge of a cliff ridge overlooking the valley beneath where the transport will be coming, carrying the money that Jabba has looted from the people. They'll return what they can and use the rest to help the Trail.

He feels uneasy though, on edge, and he can't quite say why. The Force is… restless.

But then, the transport comes, and Anakin doesn't have time to dwell on what he senses, too focused on killing the guards who are accompanying the transport and helping Kitster and Wald acquire the credits inside. It's easy; he could do it in his sleep. He's done far harder things during the war. And when it's over, the credits secured, Anakin feels it.

The Force shifts, a warning of danger, though it's not centered near him, and there's a flare of panic through his bond with Reva before everything quiets. He reaches for her, but her presence is dimmed with unconsciousness.

"Something has happened," he tells the other two. "I must leave at once."

"Thank you for your aid, and for everything you have done," Kitster says to him, his gratitude echoing into the Force. "Do you have a name?"

"Vader," Anakin answers. "I am Vader."

He turns, using the Force to enhance his speed as he climbs up the ridge to his waiting speeder, gunning the engine and speeding away across the desert. It feels like it takes hours before he arrives at the Lars homestead, and the sound of the speeder brings Owen from inside, his rifle raised, though he lowers it when he sees Anakin.

"What has happened?" Anakin demands, ripping off his helmet, his own panic rising when he realizes that he doesn't sense Reva here. "Where is she? I felt something."

"Jabba sent his tax collectors," Owen replies, regret and anger warring on his face. "I told them I'd be able to pay them tomorrow, but they didn't care. They – they took Reva and shot Beru. She'll be fine," he hastens to add, "Thanks to Reva. She – she used the Force to save her. They know."

His panic of before is nothing compared to the raw terror that he feels now, knowing that Jabba has taken Reva, that they know she has the Force. They'll sell her into slavery or hand her over to the Empire, and neither option is one that Anakin is willing to stand for. Not Reva. He brought her here, where he thought he could protect her, and… he failed.

The Dark Side rises in response to his fear, his fear shifting to anger as the initial shock wears off, nipping at him, whispering promises of power, and for the first time since the Temple, since the Senate, since he fought Palpatine, Anakin lets go entirely. It floods him with a rush, curling greedily inside of him, filling him with a power that he'll need.

"I'm going to get her back," he says, voice eerily calm. He knows his eyes have bled yellow, or maybe even red, but he doesn't care. Jabba will die for this.

He took Reva.

He took Reva.

Nothing else matters.

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