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Chapter 10

Anakin looked up at the rising sunrise, the bottle of Tatooine Sunburn in hand. It was an inebriating beverage harboring two Starshine Surprises in the same glass; a tough drink that was said to put the drinker out like a light, yet it had little effect on Anakin. While being half-Force played a part, he found that sleep eluded him as Vader.

It wasn't until he sensed movement behind him that Anakin stopped downing the drink. Padmé stared at his back for a moment, seeming to be considering her next coarse of action, before turning and walking away...

"You don't have to leave, Padmé," he ensured, lowering the bottle.

"I don't want to disturb you..." She confessed.

"Don't worry, you're not," he reassured her, looking at her for a moment. And like a lovesick teenager, he found himself eyeing her midriff. Force, he'd forgotten that Padmé loved to wear such clothing.

Padmé came closer, standing next to Anakin, eyeing the drink clutched in his hand, "Be careful. I don't know what alcohol is like here, but if it is anything like Naboo, I don't think it's productive for your health."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Anakin responded, a bit of mock apology in his tone.

She winced. "I am."

"I wasn't aware that you're the type who engages in such acts, Senator," He grinned.

"You remember Rabé?" He fished for the face of the name in his memory and recalled a Handmaiden stopping a young boy, although politely, from seeing his crush. "We told her not to go to the Naboo's bar. Well, she went anyway and got herself drunk. And it took me, Sabé, Eirtaé, Yané, and Saché to drag her away!" She exclaimed. "And well, I don't want the same to happen to you."

"I can't get drunk after one time," he replied, "no matter how rough the drink is."

"Huh, you think you're above the average human, don't you, Ani?" She teased.

"Not a joke."

"Wow, you're serious?" She asked, smile slowly ebbing away. Anakin kept his despite it. "You're serious," she repeated in a statement format, flabbergasted. "Is it because you're a Jedi?"

"No, I am not entirely human," he shrugged.

She coughed. "Wait, erm, you're half-alien?!"

"No," he replied, unable to resist rolling his blue eyes. A very absurd notion...

"But every sentient being can get drunk... eventually. There's always a limit."

"I was born without a father, being conceived by the Force. The Force is not a alcoholic." he said snarkily.

"Wait a minute, I thought..." She bit her tongue.

Anakin's smile fell, a eyebrow raising, "-that I'm a child of rape?"

She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. "I don't mean to sound insensitive but you and your mother were slaves."

"I had it checked out before," he retorted, squashing the grief of painful reminders of what those slaver scum did to his mother a lifetime ago. He couldn't blame her, however. His mother was a beautiful woman. "As long as I'm concentrating and refusing to allow any intoxication to enter my system, it's easy for the effects to wash away."

Padmé snorted. "Teach me that too."

Anakin laughed slightly, "I can still get drugged, proving that I'm not immune to other fallacies."

All of a sudden, he received a smack on the back of the head. She was hitting at him while he helplessly put up his hands, trying to prevent her from landing assaults, some of the liquor splashing out into the sand.

"What did I do?! What did I do?!" He cried, laughter in his voice as he failed to fend off her assaults.

She laughed, "You did drugs?!"

"I'm not a child, Padmé," he replied through snickers.

He could tell she was trying to be serious. Trying and failing. That much was evident by her increasing laughter and teasing pushes against his chest. "That's no excuse to do hurtful substances!"

"Alright, alright, Padmé!" He gripped her wrists. Who would have known he would have been told off by a woman for such a petty matter? "I was drugged," he said in a pleading tone, "I... never did drugs intentionally."

"Oh," heat rushed to her cheeks as she stopped attempting to plummet him.

He teased as he released her hands, "Why am I reminded of Naboo's matriarchy."

She rolled her eyes. "There have been male rulers and men of society coming from Naboo."

"At least, it's not as bad as Hapes Cluster," Anakin chuckled. "But that was really necessary?" he rubbed the side of his neck and quipped. "You might have scratched my neck, woman."

She grinned, able to bounce back on the side of dignity, "Well, consider that punishment from me in the future if you ever even think about it."

For a moment, a scenario where Luke or Leia tested the boundaries of their mother washed through Anakin's mind. He could just imagine his teenage children doing all types of mischief if they were anything like their parents. And then realism kicked in. He'd hoped such familial moments would happen, where he and Padmé could discipline and spoil their children. However, they would have to navigate the Clone Wars and Palpatine's machinations. The worst part was that no matter what Anakin did, Order 66 could be inevitable. He knew how spiteful Sidious was. There were likely thousands of contingencies that would burn the galaxy out of spite before allowing the Jedi to undo a thousand years of work, all under legal and lawful orders! And there was also Dooku and his allies. Either way, Luke and Leia would be born in a war-torn galaxy.

It wasn't even about stopping Palpatine, not completely. It was about stopping at least some of those damn contingencies and make sure the galaxy didn't burn as a result.

"Never planned to," he fought to keep the sadness out of his tone, "it is elevating to know that you care so much."

"Well, dragging my protector back to Coruscant because he went and got himself drunk isn't one of the plans I have today," she replied in a chippy tone.

"Fair enough," he laughed.

Anakin soon finished the drink and handed it to Threepio, who gladly collected it and went back inside, leaving him alone with Padmé.

"I can feel that you're unsettled," he declared without staring at her.

"It's just I'm... Never mind..." Padmé disregarded, shrugging her shoulders as she waved dismissively. "I don't have nothing else to say over the matter."

"Are you sure?" Anakin inquired, feeling her thoughts dwelling on something. "I do not prescribe to the points of the Jedi Order. If there's something that concerns you, you need not hesitate to come before me and vent."

"You know… nothing means more to me than the galaxy, than the Republic. I would fight for it, I would happily die for it."

Anakin felt his eye twitch.

"But... I am disturbed by the lack of action of slavery in the Outer Rim." Padmé paused. "I mean... look at this planet." She looked around at the desert around them and grumbled. "If there's a bright center to the universe, we're on the planet that it's farthest from."

"Unfortunately, the Jedi and Republic believe that crime and slavery is not one primary issue they need to concentrate on," Anakin replied, his words coming out due to muscle memory. "Dispensing all of those weapons, supplies, and such to Tatooine would be a poor waste as far as the major players of the Core are concerned."

Nevertheless, the words began to fade out in Anakin's head. 'You know… nothing means more to me than the galaxy, than the Republic. I would fight for it, I would happily die for it.' 'You know… nothing means more to me than the galaxy, than the Republic. I would fight for it, I would happily die for it.' 'You know… nothing means more to me than the galaxy, than the Republic. I would fight for it, I would happily die for it.'

'Nothing means more to me than the galaxy, than the Republic.'

'I would happily die for it.'

The words kept replaying in his head.

Padmé on Mustafar.

A woman fighting for a system, only to cruelly learn who the people around her were.

Padmé was standing in front of him, afraid and lost, before her hands reached for her throat.

The means to draw air for Anakin was difficult now. He no longer could access his voice.

He could see that there was no threat. But he felt it before he knew it. He was gone.

How could a woman so compassionate be so... foolish?

Anakin was beginning to live the life he lived the first time again. Padmé's loyalty was what got her beliefs shattered, and in part, got her killed.

He was sent back to a time where that loyalty was still ingrained. How the kriff was she ever going to see the reality behind the Republic? See through the cracks even without Palpatine? Through Quarsh Panaka even? See the Core who wanted to kriff things up just because they'd wanted to be higher than one another - the Core that Anakin had knew - the same thousands of people who made deals with Palpatine for their interest? Not until everything burnt into flames, the Jedi Temple being raided and destroyed, and the same Republic leaders who applauded the Rise of the Empire. Not until everyone was dead and everything was destroyed.

He was brought back to reality when two hands shook his shoulder, and he only met Padmé's concerned eyes.

"Anakin, are you alright?"

Anakin blinked, still not entirely conscious.

Her concerned gaze remained on his, and he finally managed, "Forgive me, I am just... thinking. You were saying?"

She blinked. "As I was saying, I'm certain all issues across the galaxy isn't easily fixed, Anak-" Padmé started, not exactly defending or accepting his choice.

"I have come to accept that a degree of suffering is ineluctable, and that permitting oneself to contemplate upon it only results in paralysis," he replied. "But so long have I realized that the issues surrounding the Core, Republic, and Jedi Order is too divided to be fix within my lifespan."

She frowned. "Oh? What would you do then?"

"A thousand years ago? I would systematically create the Jedi Military from the Old Republic, entrenching ourselves into the Core, Mid, and Outer Rim. We cannot decentralized. That only limits our capabilities. We have to be willing to cooperate with one another; assign leaders that are suitable for positions, and make various deals that are necessary with the local governments. As such, the secessionist movement would be made of Jedi instead of Count Dooku."

Unfortunately, that opportunity had long passed. If the Jedi had a functional PR team and were consistently addressing the nets, elaborating what, where, and why they were doing missions, it would have been far more complicated for Palpatine and his followers to discredit them. At least, hypothetically. In reality, for the Jedi to thrive now, they would need to dance on a tightrope between doing morally the right thing and appealing to powerful governments around the Core whose desires they interfered with by doing so. The only other alternative was for the Jedi to only deal with street-level issues in cooperation with local police and security forces, and consequentially, hardly being involved in interstellar politics.

In most cases, even if the Jedi did take Palpatine out publicly, even now, it made him a martyr killed by "Jedi terrorists," and the contingencies for the Clones started years ago. Unless control was sabotaged from within, Palpatine would win, even if he was killed. The only other option was to join the CIS... If only that didn't mean he would be going against his friends and family. Not to mention that that would involve Anakin killing Jedi himself. It certainly happened in the past to Force Adepts, and they didn't fall to the Dark Side for it, but it would be something he would rather avoid.

Padmé sighed, "I'm sure it wouldn't be that simple."

"No, it wouldn't be." That was one possibility Anakin considered. If the Republic's infrastructure were fractured throughout the Clone Wars as they did last time, and he managed to get through some of the more rational Jedi's heads, perhaps he could do just that; arrange for the them in a couple of decades to be in the correct position to no longer have to answer to the Core ever again. But the problem was, even that could put everyone in danger.

"What about rules?"

"I would refer to this; teach my students to let go and let in at once."

"Let go and let in?"

"People they care about," his face softened.

"People th-" she started, only stopping, her eyes widening as she stared at his eyes.

She half-smiled, the sun casting across her face. Padmé cupped his cheek, and he met her eyes again, his pulse increasing. She leaned in, and her lips locked onto his. His heart soared with joy when Padmé's hands enclosed around him. Anakin held her face as well. Actually held her face. With flesh. He would have to make sure he didn't lose any limbs ever again!

Padmé increased the kiss and allowed her hands to slide down his toned chest, his skin hot under her palms; Anakin savoring her delicacy and returning it with equal devotion and sheer muscle memory, his hands caressing her hips, causing her to moan. Her hands stroked his still lengthy strawberry blond hair. He had missed this for so many years. It didn't matter how long he'd wanted to indulge in this right now.

A more animalistic part of Anakin wished that both of them would be able to remove their clothing and do much more than this. But that would mean severing apart, and neither of them didn't want to do that either. Maybe, next time, they could wear lighter overalls.

And, finally, they'd broke apart. Both of their eyes were hungry as they stared at one another. Most notably, she didn't attempt to pull away like she did their very first kiss in the original timeline.

Force, he missed the touch of her lips for decades!

Obi-Wan didn't know how much time had passed. Being in an empty black cell devoid of life or any sort of sunlight drew him into some pretty dark corners of his mind.

Eventually, fortunately, Siri came back to consciousness.

"Obi-W...Obi-Wan..." Her eyes alight before dimming slightly, her hand reaching up to clasp her head, no doubt to fight off a headache, "What happened?"

"Dooku decided we're to be his lovely prisoners," Obi-Wan answered with his typical wit, leaning over to grab her and help her up.

Siri didn't respond, her eyes staring around as he held her against him.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned.

"Yes, I am, but how are we going to get out of here?"

"I've been thinking about since we were brought here," Obi-Wan said honestly, lowering on a bench, holding her against him.

The doors opened eventually, and Obi-Wan watched as Dooku's form moved within, with Magnaguards and Geonosisans at his flank and Magus and Jango Fett, too.

"Dooku," Obi-Wan's chin throbbed, "what's happening?"

"I'm afraid that the Geonoisan government isn't pleased with the Jedi's intervention here, my young friends," Kenobi felt his gut twisting from within at the Count's words. "We must practice the art... of inconvenient methods if we are to successfully conquer the Republic, and unfortunately, your cooperation is required for both of us."

"What will you do with us?" Kenobi inquired stubbornly.

"You will be an example to the Confederacy."

Siri gasped, but he had nothing else he could offer before he and Siri were forced up to their legs and led away.

They led them down to a corridor.

"You won't find the Senator's location, Dooku."

"Did you not listen to a word I said, Obi-Wan? Much like Qui-Gon indeed." Dooku rebuked. "But she's of no importance. The Chosen One is an interesting dilemma."

"There it is again," Obi-Wan mentioned. "What is it about Anakin that has your attention?"

"Skywalker's shift isn't lost on me," Dooku declared in a clinical monotone. "He has left the Jedi Order, has he not? He has abandoned you."

Obi-Wan had to resist showing pain at that. "Anakin's decision was his own."

"You feel like you had failed him. It not need not end tragically, Obi-Wan. Join me, and together we can convince Skywalker. We need the help of the Chosen One in ridding ourselves of the Sith. Sidious hasn't reached him yet."

Pained as he was, Obi-Wan straightened, staring the older man in the eye, "He never will. I don't believe that there even is a Sidious."

Dooku sighed. "The Jedi's closed off philosophy has always led to more pain in the galaxy."

Finally, they made it to one room, but they all stopped.

Obi-Wan was surprised when he was forced forward. "What is this?"

He could sense Siri barely was able to resist biting her tongue, forcing her features to remain still, as she looked down into the chamber, where they were securing Obi-Wan to an interrogation table. He managed to keep his face straight, but his eyes suggested a different story; he was terrified, only resisting the temptation to watch the EV droids floating from side to side.

"This is your last chance, Obi-Wan," Dooku's voice echoed from the comms. "Join me or suffer."

Kenobi looked within the window, feeling Siri's fearful eyes on him. "You can break me but you'll never destroy me, Dooku..."

"Very well," Dooku sighed.

"We're ready to begin, Count Dooku," came a voice through the speakers.

Dooku leaned forward, pressing the button on his terminal. "Proceed," he ordered without hesitation. "Set voltage to nine milliamperes and duration for fifteen seconds."

The technicians followed the orders, and Kenobi could almost see Siri's fists tightening, her nails burying into her palms. He could almost see Magus's sardonic smile and Dooku's resignation.

'Be strong, Siri,' he prayed.

The head tech nodded, and the EV droids came closer.

The electrodes activated, burning across clothing and flesh. Kenobi convulsed, curling within himself, his face squeezing tight, but his mouth somehow remained quiet. He firmly kept it shut. All they managed to get from him were agonized grunts at most.

When the fifteen seconds ended and the electricity stopped, Obi-Wan gasped as if being pulled out of empty waters.

"You can stop this agony," Dooku said when Obi-Wan came to after a few minutes. "It doesn't need to end like this. I take no pleasure in this."

"Torture me all you want, it's not going to change anything!" Obi-Wan replied, feeling his neck choking on air. "I am not going to disgrace the Order."

"Headstrong, I see," Dooku commented, leaning on the call button again. "Increase voltage to forty milliamperes and set duration to twenty seconds."

Kenobi could feel Siri snap her head to him in alarm, pleading with her eyes for mercy, even though her voice didn't comply. Within the chamber, the technicians followed the order, and Siri had only a few moments to close her eyes, her face growing peaceful...

The lightning cut again, and this time, Obi-Wan couldn't stop a shout.

His insides churned in horror, and the pain was beyond anything he had felt ever before. He lost the very concept of time. It must have proceeded for hours. Or maybe it was days.

When it stopped, Kenobi breathed yet again.

"Increase voltage to seventy-five and set duration to thirty-five seconds."

This time, his entire body was burning within, beyond the last time. Obi-Wan's shouts echoed, and his body twitched, the agony still coursing through his veins.

"Obi-Wan?" He heard a voice from afar.

Kenobi shrieked until the switch was thrown, and the current turned off. He loosened in his restraints, head hanging, eyes on the floor, breathing harshly.

"...Kark..." He said under his breath.

Dooku didn't even offer him a time of reprieve. "Continue."

The Geonosian techs shocked Kenobi again. The man's head and back tensed and slammed against the metal table as his body thrashed unwillingly.

He could feel Siri's pain. She was petrified; she was a prisoner within her own body as well, helpless to stop Obi-Wan's torture.

And yet, Obi-Wan could never stop screaming.

It had been a long time since Anakin had kissed Padmé.

Some part of him wondered if it was wrong, but when it happened, it brought about a great hope in his chest.

Something squashed his happiness, however...

His face creased, and he broke apart from her again...

"Obi-Wan..." he whispered.

"What is it?" His beloved asked, placing her hand on his shoulder in worry.

Anakin jolted, "Obi-Wan's in terrible pain."

"We have to go after them."

Anakin shared the sentiment. That definitely didn't happen last time. What changed?

Less than a hour later, Anakin and Padmé prepared to leave Tatooine. The Nubian was prepared for departure. The only obstacle that stopped them was the family, perplexed by the sudden shift. The family that Anakin had little time to know.

"I'm sorry we have to leave so soon."

Owen's face broke, a bit of agitation coming across his face. "Do you have to? We only just met."

"Someone I care about is in danger. I can feel it." Anakin answered.

His eyes sharpened. "You don't know when we're going to see each other again, do you?"

"No," Anakin confirmed.

"I always believed that you should have never left..." Owen grumbled.

He gave him a scathing stare for a moment but stormed away. Beru shouted his name and followed the emotional man inside the Homestead.

Cliegg Lars stared at him for a fraction longer, his eyes nonjudgmental.

"I'm sorry for my son-"

"Don't be," Anakin raised a hand, "I understand his perspective. I believe I would have felt much the same way. I can only hope that I will be able to return someday."

The elder man smiled slightly. "I know that you will. I may not be a esteemed Jedi like you, son. But your mother was always proud of you. She knows that you would do amazing things."

Oh, if only she, or he, had known...

"Now, I wish you the best."

"Thank you, Cliegg Lars. Whatever my mother saw in you, she made a wise decision." Anakin replied sincerely.

'I just wish I can get to know you more.'

They shook hands at once before turning away from one another.

That would be the last time he would ever see Cliegg Lars.