Two years after the rise of the Empire

Prologue:

~Windu's POV~

"The situation is dire."

Dire? No, the situation was past dire, it had been past dire two months ago. The only difference was that two months ago, it had not been something as huge as this.

Mace could swear the force was doing this on objective, that it wanted the Sith to win, and was purposefully slaughtering Jedi. He sighed.

"What do you require, majesty?" he asked the king, who also was sighing.

The Jedi council members stayed silent; too exhausted to say much. This campaign had turned into something more. It had killed six Jedi already. Two of which had been masters.

"I need more troops, if you want the truth," The king snapped, his hot temper only fueled by anxiety. He had already lost his throne, his parents; he was a sixteen-year-old king, orphaned by Empire troops who had killed his parents a month earlier. Along with the Jedi master who had tried to protect them.

Now, he was in hiding, frustrated by his inability to help his people.

Mace, too, was frustrated and anxious; the people of the several planets that made up one system, united and called Coptic, had been invaluable allies and patient helpers to the rebel Alliance. Yet, now that they were in trouble, there was only so much the Rebels they had funded could do to help them. It infuriated Mace as much as the king.

"We are rather wary of that, as I'm sure you understand," Master Shaak Ti spoke up, her calm and soft voice cutting through their frustration kindly. Sometimes Mace Windu wondered what he would do without the other Jedi to keep his insanity under-wraps.

"Already, six Jedi have died during the battles for your world. We are spread thin, young one," perhaps it was the informal use of the name he was no longer called, or maybe it was the gentle, motherly exterior of Shaak Ti that made the king's young blue face relax.

"I'm aware of that, and I know you're trying your best," he sighed, calmer this time.

"But the fact still remains that my planets are literally being burned away, my people are being enslaved, and you are not doing much else to help us," he said respectfully but plainly. Mace sighed.

"Think, I can," Yoda broke in, his ragged face weary and strained. In the two years the war had gone on, he had grown so much older, in both looks and emotions, and Yoda had seen every dark moment in the history of the Jedi.

This war, by far, though, had been the darkest moment they had ever encountered. Despite the fact that a year ago, Skywalker's former apprentice had been able to blow up the Sith palace and destroy dozens of villains in the process.

Mace was not so dim as to believe that this was not revenge for that, no matter it had happened a year earlier.

"Of two more Jedi we can send, who of some help might be," they all stared, the king hopefully, at their wise leader. "Who, master?" Master Fisto asked. Yoda only blinked, as if the answer was supposed to be obvious.

Immediately, it was.

Who were the two they had always gone too when things became impossible? What team had always been the last resort, and the only resort they trusted? Who was known to the rest of the universe as 'The team?'

The Negotiator and The Hero With No Fear. The Chosen one and The Hero of many battles. Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.

"No," he said firmly, immediately. "With the amount of Jedi who have been killed during this campaign, Master, I do not think this is wise," he said, his voice edged with sharpness.

They were one of the best teams in the Order, and besides, he did not want any more deaths. Especially not theirs.

He did not particularly like Skywalker; in fact he loathed the boy secretly. He was too unpredictable, too untrusting, too…. Dark. Sometimes he signified everything that had destroyed Mace's world.

Why Qui-gon had picked this boy out of the thousands of strong force users was a mystery, he was so like Qui-gon, and yet so much like Sidious.

He did not understand what it was like to be a true Jedi, and the fact that he had been trained by a true Jedi was what made this such an outrage.

Obi-wan, though, was a prodigy, a perfect memory of his dead master, at the same time as being his complete polar opposite.

Obi-wan was a miracle of the force itself. To have grown up and gone through the obstacles he had gone through and yet having come out as he had.

Mace admired the younger man almost as much as he did Yoda, and that was something worth admiring itself.

He could not doubt their abilities, though, no one could. Apart, the two were legends. But together, together they were just plain…. Extraordinary.

That was why the Jedi could not lose them. They meant too much, they were too much. Skywalker was the last hope for the Jedi, he and his part in the prophecy. Obi-wan was just another word for peace to some people. Including Mace. He would sooner risk his own life than theirs.

"I've heard of them," the king cried, frantically excited. His blue skin, characteristic to his people, flushed with hope. "They're the best you have, aren't they? Please, yes, send them," he cried beseechingly.

"Not the best," Fisto corrected, since Obi-wan was not there himself to be the humble representative of the team. Skywalker would have puffed up in pride and agreed.

"They are the team we usually call in to handle these things," he gave Mace a pointed look. "They are needed too much," Windu countered, making his point known. Master Gallia smiled humorlessly.

"Skywalker survived and won the battle of Jabiim, did he not? This is almost the same circumstance," That scared him. "And Obi-wan," she needed not go on. "I will do what I must" as he often said.

"Handle this fairly well, they will," the force screamed in disagreement and disapproval. Mace sighed as the others nodded. He had a deeply bad feeling that even the legendary team would not take this mission so easily.

This is chapter one of the Battleground of brothers. Warning: if you don't like sappy moments full of conflicting emotions, foul words and punches, brotherly silence and tortured, immature tears between Anakin and Obi-wan, this isn't your story. If you do, then welcome aboard!

~Queen Yoda