Chapter 5: Absence

A/N: I will be using one particular translated Sith word that I used in the prequel of this story 'Face of the Sith.' The word is Jaarvek, which is Sith for father.

‟Stupid dreams. Even the good ones are bad because they remind you how poorly reality measures up."

― Neal Shusterman, Unwind

3636 BBY (17ATC)

Waking up was… unexpected. When the bright light flared, Medria was certain that was the end. She had all but a moment to send a prayer to beg for her family's safety. She had sealed herself with the knowledge that her sacrifice was saving the lives of everyone who was escaping.

But then she woke up.

Her stomach turned, and she sighed painfully as she fought the urge to let her stomach release whatever contents were there. It was obviously long enough since she was knocked out that she hadn't had a chance to get a new dose of medicine to calm her sickness. She took slow deep breaths as she sat up, legs swinging over the side. 'I will not throw up,' she thought Forcefully. It took a few moments, but the feeling passed, and she finally opened her eyes and glanced down.

This was not her bed.

Her bed was, while not extravagant, much nicer with soft blue sheets with a genomic pattern in a slightly darker shade. But what she sat on was a plain white bed that had little to it. It was small, the mattress shallow, and the more aware she became, the more she realized it was little more than a metal slab. Her eyes shot to her wrists and landed on Force binders. Medria took a deep breath and looked up at the guard standing near her. Then her senses picked up movement from her peripheral vision. She glanced over as a man walked towards her with half his face covered in a mask.

"You've awakened. I trust you can walk." her captor said calmly. She cursed herself mentally for having not noticed sooner. She remained silent and sat as straight as she could. This man would get nothing from her.

"Silence is perfectly acceptable, but it will not help you here. You're in the heart of our empire now." His calmness was irritating. "Come now." He nodded to the guard next and turned away. The guard moved towards her, poked her with their rifle, and gestured for her to get up. She struggled to do so for a moment, her stomach rolling uncomfortably. Binders or not, her hand immediately fell to her stomach as she stood.

Her captor walked on ahead, and with the guard, she had no choice but to follow him down the hallway. Curious as always, she glanced into each room they passed. Perhaps one led to an exit or housed other survivors. Then Nikholas appeared, also cuffed and escorted by guards.

Her heart cried in relief, even is she didn't show it outwardly. Nikholas was alive. And by the way, he marched right into her captor's space and stared down at him, he was nothing but angry.

"What empire have we entered?" He growled.

"The Eternal Empire, Zakuul." their captor didn't skip a beat and seemed less than intimidated by Nikholas' size. Then he turned on heel and started walking away. "You didn't even know whose territory you were invading?" he asked smugly. Turning back to face them.

"What do you hope to achieve by taking us, prisoner?" Nikholas asked, straight to the point. She leaned back, rocking onto her heel as she watched the interaction. For now, he was speaking as a council member of the dark council, there was no purpose for her to speak.

"I have questions. You will provide the answers."

"We will tell you nothing," Nikholas growled, but it was a silent approval of her silence.

"You won't have to speak to give me the answers I need."

The threat hung in the air as he turned and walked away. They had no choice but to follow as the guards ushered them to move. We were forced onto an attached shuttle, which blocked off all possible exits. She stood next to Nikholas on the shuttle, and despite the guards, she glanced up at him.

"[Nikholas, what are we to do?]" she asked quietly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. One of the guards looked to them curiously, but Sith was kept tightly to those raised with the pureblood. Nikholas was the only other one in the shuttle who would know the language simply because she had taught him.

"[We wait, and see what happens.]" He whispered back in kind.

"[my family.]" She said slowly.

"[Will see you again. I promised that Captain of yours after all.]"He whispered, his eyes dropping to her stomach. She nodded and thanked him quietly before falling quiet once more.

"It sounds like you found your voice," their captor spoke up, and she was sure that from the squint of his eye, he was smirking under the half mask. She clenched her jaw and refused to speak a word. "And it is lost again, such a shame."

Medria pulled on her mas of self-assurance and pride. It fit perfectly on her face. This time, she would take the lead role. The shuttle rocked as it attached to the docking bay. Their captor moved to the door, and she followed him closely. When they exited the shuttle, there were dozens of new guards, these ones armed with blue lightsabers.

"We recovered the records from your ship's computers. Or what was left off them. Fascinating reading. You Sith are apparently quite formidable," he spoke as if he were trying to make light conversation over tea. "There was quite a lack of information on you, but there were some fascinating documents on you. To alter the course of galactic events as you have… quite impressive"

Medria couldn't tell if he was serious or mocking her. She glared at him but remained silent. Seeming to have finally annoyed him with her lack of voice her glared at her with golden eyes. He stopped walking and stepped right into her personal space, staring down at her the same way Nikholas did to him earlier.

"I hope you find your voice soon. You will need it." He warned her. Then a stranger walked up to them and bowed.

"Prince Arcann." And finally, their captor had a name. Arcann. A prince at that.

"Heskal. Still waiting for the catastrophe that you and your Scions foretold," He mocked. Medria smirked. Trouble in paradise, it seemed.

"You may close your ears to the whispers of fate, my prince, but they cannot be silenced." the soothsayer calmly replied. By the sounds of it, he was a priest of some kind. Glancing at both the clothing of the priest and prince, the confusion arose. She recognized those symbols from… somewhere.

"I wonder if silencing you might suffice. Take your suspicions elsewhere, Heskal. You are not needed here." Prince Arcann took a threatening step towards the priest, and his mechanical hand dropped to his lightsaber.

"Is this why you brought us? To hear you bicker with soothsayers?" Nikholas interceded, obviously less entertained than she was.

"Come along," Prince Arcann ordered over his shoulder.

"You're taking us to your master." Nikholas sounded interested immediately.

"I'm taking you to my father. Valkorion. The Immortal Emperor of Zakuul."

"An Emperor. Just what we were searching for."

"You will not find what you wanted here."

Medria gave one sharp head shake to Nikholas, warning him to back off as they continued to follow the prince. Her eyes drifted closed, Force binders or not, she could feel him there. Vitiate. Her emperor. But it wasn't like Ziost. It wasn't a frayed chaotic feeling of his presence that she had felt before. He seemed calm, settled like he was fully at ease where he was.

"You are still special to me, Wrath, that is why I will kill you last. How do you wish to die? In combat or on your knees?" His words rang clear to her. Her eyes snapped open. She would not be frightened by him, not now. Her steps became more purposeful. 'Stalking,' Vette called it. The doors to what she could only assume was the throne room. She tried, she really did, to keep her eyes on the prince, but the near 360 glass bubble was beautiful. She glanced around looking out at the stars and galaxy around them. If things were better, she'd be totally enthralled. Her more childish side would have had her as close to the windows 'wowing. The stars were beautiful, and she always loved looking at them. It was a trait she inherited from her father, and he was the reason that they had an observatory on their estate.

The closer they got, the more a cold stone formed in her gut. She could barely see the man sitting on the throne, but he looked so familiar.

"His Glorious Majesty, Immortal Master, and Protector of Zakuul, Emperor Valkorion." the prince intoned.

"Welcome," Valkorion said calmly, leaning back in the throne. Her breath stopped in its tracks as her scars began to feel like they were crawling under her skin.

"A new name, a new face… These are not enough to hide from us." Nikholas growled. "The Sith emperor, there is no mistake."

"Oh, but I think a mistake has been made… but by whom?"

"How?" she finally found her voice. "How are you alive." she glanced at Nikholas, who did not seem as shocked as she did. Did he know this whole time?

"You presume limits to my power, there are none."

"Your constant silence across our history… this was your distraction?"

"This was my focus. Everything else… the means to an end. You claim to have come all of this way to find me. Here I am. What do you want?"

What did they WANT? Her shock turned into a raw fury that turned the ice in her to molten lava.

"You manipulate whole civilizations," She started, "arrange decades of war, eradicated all life on Ziost… then flee." afterward, the fury turned to pain. How dare he. "You- You abandoned me. Why? You are going to tell me why."

"Am I?" he mocked, standing. He slowly started walking down the first set of steps towards them. "You say you know me-if that is true, then you know the depths of my power. Whatever you hoped to achieve here, you know- deep inside- that you cannot succeed. But, you do not have to stand against me. Instead…" He waved his hand, and the binders on Nikholas sparked and dropped to the floor. "you can kneel." He offered to sound as magnanimous as he did on Ziost.

"I will never again kneel to you," Nikholas cursed him. Arcann looked hesitant and glanced over his shoulder to Valkorion, who held a hand up to him.

"You would sooner die than acknowledge my superiority?"

"It is you who fears death, 'Valkorion.' I do not. I will not kneel."

With renewed access to the Force, Nikholas called one of the guards' lightsaber pikes to him and threw it like a spear into another one's chest. When several charged him, he threw them back. Then purple hot fire erupted in a giant stream of lightning. Never before had Medria ever seen such a display of power. Nikholas was thrown several yards back until he rolled to a stop at a newcomer's feet. The newcomer was a woman with a hood drawn up covering her hair all proper like.

Dead.

Nikholas was dead. Darth Marr, lord of the Sith, Dark Council member, was one with the Force.

Medria's eyes shut as she pulled at the pain of his death, separating it into two categories. Pain that can be used and pain that needed to be buried deep. Nikholas was dead, but she was still alive.

"Clear the room. Everyone out!" the woman ordered. All the guards followed suit, clearing the room in an orderly fashion. Medria turned on her heel and started to stride towards Valkorion.

"Why send your new followers away? Something you don't want them to hear?" She bit out as a snarl grew on her lips. "[Jaarvek.]"

He watched her, seemingly unimpressed with the fury and wrath that permeated from her. Instead, a small smile grew on his lips as he stepped slowly down from the throne.

51 BBY (3602 ATC)

She was 6 when she put the pieces together. She was given to the Jedi two years earlier, the same age as most of the other initiates, but she was different.

The first thing she realized was how stupid all the other initiates were. While all the other initiates were easily distracted, hard to focus, and otherwise fantastical, she was deeply rooted in fact and knowledge. The masters praised her often for her ability to focus in class and meditations. It all came far too easy for her, yet far too hard for the other children. She also seemed to have an easier grasp with manipulation of the Force despite her supposed lower midichlorian count. Her pain threshold was also far beyond any of the other children. There was a game they played where a controller would randomly shock someone, and then they had to guess who was shocked. No one ever guessed her. Strangely, it was almost like she had felt it before, something worse.

But, what really helped put it together was the dreams. Most of the children in her cresh clan didn't dream at all, yet she had vivid ones. A lot of them were scary, and she was terrified. The majority of the time, she woke up in pain, clutching her head. However, there were quite a few where she was happy, really happy, and filled with love. She saw the faces of people she never met, yet she felt attached to them. Some of the younglings talked about their mommies, but she didn't remember her mommy; in fact, when one of them asked her if she missed hers all she knew to say was, "I don't have a mommy." But then she dreamed of waking up. She was cold and scared, her heart felt hurt. Someone hurt her feelings. But there were people standing around her in awe. She was staring at the grownups in the eyes, and then she was looking up at them. The blue man was standing behind them, but they didn't seem to notice him. He crept up to her and whispered in her ear.

"Don't say anything, child, or the Jedai will kill you. You must not know what happened in the past. If they ask you, you don't know." he insisted.

When she woke up from the dream she knew, she had forgotten the past, the long past. She looked six, but she wasn't. And her name wasn't OBject of Interest- 1, Obi-Wan, it was Medria. She was Medria Nathem. Obi-Wan was a Jedi youngling because she forgot, Medria was a Sith Lord, a Commander-in-chief, the Wrath of her father, and Empress.

She had to remember it all, so in the dark of night, when all others were asleep, she'd pull out her datapad and write in the language no one else knew. She wrote her name dozens of times, followed by those she remembered.

Later those names turned into stories until she was writing down everything, every small detail in the order it happened. Her life.

In the dark was the only place she could truly live because there was one thing she remembered clearly. The republic tried to assassinate her. If they knew she survived, as a child, she wouldn't be able to protect herself. In the whole galaxy, she was alone.

[My name is Medria Nathem.

My name is Medria Nathem.

I am Sith, I am above Sith. I know light and dark and the hidden place in between. I survived. I keep surviving. History is written by the victors, and for once, that is not me. But I will tell the truth of what happened.

My name is Medria Nathem. I was born 11 BTC on Dromund Kaas. I do not know what my mother looked like, nor her name. I wish I never knew my father.

I am Medria Nathem. This was my life.]

50 BBY (3603 ATC)

It started with the field trip. Obi had no interest in going. In fact, she tried to get out of it several times, but no one would have it. There was a pulling on her mind that had her concerned, and with the cresh going out, she was hoping to stay behind to meditate and investigate what the cause was. But, the masters Forced her to go.

It was Coruscant, and to her surprise, it was like a large city, but it consumed the natural life around it in layers of durasteel. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Even the empire with their dedication to growth and technological improvement never went so far as to consume an entire planet. Life was just as important as death. The Bloom Festival was clearly not celebrated in the heart of the republic. She was horrified when the only piece of the original planet was the monument to the last mountain peak. She remembered the mountains as a child, and the snow caps on Alderaan when she was older. She loved the mountains, and this is what they did to theirs.

She sighed as she trailed behind the touring group, rolling her eyes each time someone told her to catch up. Originally she tried to at least act like she was having fun, but for some reason, it only brought resentment. She crossed her arms and shuffled after the group. Then in a flash of a moment, the pulling on her mind tugged sharply, close by, and she froze. The cause of the pulling was right there. Scanning the crowds moving about searching for whoever it was. Mentally she grabbed at the person, forcing her presence towards them so they would be easier to identify. It worked.

Standing in the shadows between two stores was a man with dark weathered skin and graying hair.

She knew that face.

She snuck away from the group and approached him. He was watching her curiously as he leaned against one wall.

"Can I help you, little one? Little Jedi shouldn't be without their masters." His eyes were cold, calculating. He seemed like someone who would take a child, kidnap them from their mother's side. But beneath it all, she could see him testing her. She neared him and leaned against the wall opposite of him, her arms crossed as she propped one foot against the wall, looking very relaxed. However, it was when she raised her chin in a dignified manner that his eyebrow raised.

"Overseer." She spoke his title carefully, and shock crossed his face. "I should have known it was your presence pestering me for the past two weeks. You do have a knack for annoying your betters." she droned dryly as her eyes dropped to his mechanical hand with a knowing look.

"Dear Force, it is you."

"Was I not who you were looking for when you kept pulling the tiny thread that bound us together? So tell me, Overseer, I know how I came to be here, how is it you survived?"

"Knight Tirall collected me, I was instructed to enter the carbon freeze just after Lord Beniko entered. I awoke on Corellia just last year, and since then, I've been searching for you. I had not expected to trace you to Coruscant."

"Nor did I expect to remember who I was only to realize that I was now in the Jedai's clutches." her hand reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose in her habitual tension reliever.

"Yes, well, I was at least smart enough to not let the republic capture me when I was released," he said.

"I did not have the choice, I somehow became a child again, as I'm sure you've noticed. But tell me of the greater galaxy. The Jedai have limited education, what of the alliance, and the Sith and Zakuul empire."

The overseer did not speak for a long time. He only observed her carefully for long, painful minutes.

"Medria," he sighed. "It's gone. All of it. The republic is the last thing we know standing beside the cartels. Sith are a scary story told to children to make them behave. Zakuul is unheard of, as is the alliance. It was as if we never existed to begin with."

"So everything," she started choosing her words carefully. "Everything I believed in, everything I fought for and build, was for nothing. Gone like a whisper left to the wind. My father's works, his 'means to an end' was the framework for a legend that survived even after its destruction."

"My Lord, just because it did not survive, does not mean we cannot start again." He told her gently. Her eyes raised surprised before they furrowed in concentration. Her relaxed position turned to slow pacing in front of him as her hand rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. Slowly she started to nod.

"We can. We can rebuild." She echoed before she stopped pacing and turned to face him. "I am a Jedai youngling, I cannot leave, not yet. But you are free. You will be the extension of my will in motion. You will be my hand."

The overseer knelt to the ground and bowed his head. Her will shone through him. Slowly she transferred some of her power to him, strengthening the weak training bond they shared. Until the time came, he would act in her place, and they would rebuild.

45 BBY (3607 ATC)

"Medria," A deep voice whispered into the dark room. She groaned, turning away from the sound. It was either very late, or very early, either way, she had no desire to wake up. She tugged the uncomfortable but warm sheets over her shoulder as she faced the wall. She missed her own sheets and the warmth that was familiar to her.

"Medria," the voice called again. She groaned and opened her mouth to tell off whoever was waking her up when she froze.

Medria.

Her eyes flew open. No one knew that name. Here she was Obi-Wan, only Obi-Wan. In addition, the voice was a deep one, curling with an accent no one here had. The voice did not belong, especially in an initiate clan room.

However, it sounded familiar. for racked her brain thinking as hard as she could to place a name to the voice. Then it struck her. Blood turned to ice in her veins. The voice was one she knew. She knew it intimately. It was the voice that she had committed to memory. The same one that she never thought she'd hear again, only to have it haunt her in her nightmares and torment her in her waking steps. Her stomach dropped, and her heart tightened in her throat.

It couldn't be real. It had to be a bad dream.

Earlier in the night, the clan was telling ghost stories, horror stories about the Sith of old (and of course Sith these days were nothing more than boogie monsters to scare initiates into behaving). She tried to convince herself that it was her imagination running wild because it couldn't be true, because if it was, then she failed. It was all ruined by the low throaty growl of impatience that echoed through the room.

"Do not ignore me, child, he warned, and she sucked in her breath.

All doubt was gone. She failed.

Her heart fluttered hard in her chest and sounded like drums in her ears.

"You're not real, you can't be," she whispered into the dark, and suddenly she felt very much like the child she looked like. "Go away."

Obi-Wan cursed herself as her hands trembled. She was tense, and she was certain he could see the tension in her frame. Dear Force, she committed patricide on his spirit, and he still didn't die. She had been so certain he was dead.

"You and I both know that's not true. I told you before, there is no death, there is only the Force, and I am its master."

Mentally she cursed him. Cursed him for all the pain he brought, all the destruction, and everything he did to her. She cursed him to the endless void. Her clanmates were still asleep, their breathing soft and steady, a few snores permeated the room, but nothing more. No matter what, they would be no part of this encounter and of no use to her.

"Sit up and look at me, Medria, you were raised better than this childish behavior." He snapped, and immediately, she found herself succumbing to his order. She sat up slowly, her thick braid tumbling down her back, sleep mused and wild. With a slow breath, she sealed herself, turned away from the wall, legs slipping over the side of the bed to face the voice. However, she couldn't bring herself to look up. It was as if she could convince herself that it was all a dream if she never saw anything.

"This is a dream, a very bad dream." her fists clenched into her night pants.

"If you were dreaming," he began, "your thoughts would be on that captain of yours."

The spell and haze were broken as rage consumed her. Her eyes shot up, glaring crimson lover at him. It burned like a furnace for a flicker of a second before she stomped it down, and her eyes dimmed to stormy gray. He was there before her, more relaxed than he deserved to be. In the eyes of a child, he was much taller than she remembered him being. Her only praise was he had the consideration to not in the impressive armor he wore in the years leading to what she had believed was his final death. Instead, he seemed to have chosen to wear a more relaxed formal outfit she had seen him wear when she was little. But to her slight relief and dismay, he still shone blue, still a ghost.

"You have no right to speak of him." she snapped, and instead of the normal reaction she would get, he smiled.

"I was beginning to wonder if they tamed that spark of yours or not. I'm pleased to see that you still claim your fiery temper, as always."

"And you have not changed at all."

"The same can't be said for you, though, can it? You were close to this age when the attack happened just before the treaty. That's how you got that terrible scarring."

"Yes, I was 11," Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "That was when I first thought you were killed, and I was orphaned."

"But I have never left you," He spoke soothingly as if trying to comfort her. She pulled the Force around her like a shield and glared at him.

"Well, that's not creepy at all."

He started laughing, surprisingly. The deep sound shaking his stomach as he approached her. With one hand, his cold fingers gripped her chin, lifting her face to look at him as the other hand soothed the wild halo of curls. He leaned down and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Oh, my sweet Medria," He whispered in a voice she hadn't heard since she was a child. Her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. He stood for a few seconds until he slowly disappeared in front of her eyes. Air rushed into her lungs, and she took gulping breaths, dropping forward onto her knees

She trembled cold, seeping into her body. Seconds passed until she hesitantly looked around, making sure everyone was still asleep, and when she confirmed they were, she grabbed her robe and rushed out of the room

…

It was surprisingly easy to sneak out of the temple. Naturally, it took a few months to figure out the guards' schedule and path, but after that, it just took stealth, which her small body but mature mind could handle with ease. The walk she took was long, but it allowed the chance for her to settle herself, to find the part of her mind that could accept and adapt. She tugged on her robes a little, searching for heat she couldn't find there. Although she was found on a temperate planet, she was born on a warm, humid one and found the planetary air system far too cold for her liking. After a few field trips with the clan and a few escapes, she learned enough of the city to feel comfortable traveling around. She had been there for 7 years, and she still didn't have any fondness for the city-planet. There was no fresh air, no natural trees or wildlife, and there were no beasts or creatures that weren't pets (unless one counted the vermin that crept in the alleyways). Everything was synthetic, all except the last bit that they memorialized for their destruction, the last peak of the last mountain in monument plaza.

There were few people wandering about in the upper level except the customers at the few restaurants surrounding the monument and a few stragglers (drug dealers) that roamed the plaza. Everyone was relaxed, happy, content. It was all as it should be, save for one human that sat on a bench near the monument. His eyes were closed and relaxed though he wasn't asleep. She went straight to him and sat down with a huff.

"You're late," he spoke softly, eyes still shut.

"Yes, well," she yawned loudly, causing him to crack one eye open. "I wasn't exactly planning on seeking out tonight, but I had an unwelcome visitor, so I thought it best if I left the temple for some time."

"Unwelcomed? Who could possibly be unwelcomed in an initiate's clan room?" He asked as he opened both eyes and turned to face her. She stared at him for a moment before sighing and rubbing her hands over her face. She turned back to face the mountain peak.

"Valkorion." He choked on air "He's still dead, apparently, and, this is according to him, he has never left me. Isn't that creepy."

"Wh-What did the emperor want?" he croaked. She rolled her eyes. Spineless.

"Don't worry, Tremel. He asked no questions, got nothing from me. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like he simply wanted me to know he was there." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Tremel was pale, looking at her nervously. She sighed again and crumpled forward, wrapping her arms around her shaking form. "It was weird, Overseer. It felt like I was actually a child again like he cared."

They were both quiet, unnoticed by those around them. She didn't like to admit her fear, but every time her father entered her life, she often felt that she had no choice but to obey his every order. His little soldier, his little wrath. But, unlike the last time, she was alone. She did not have her friends, her allies, her family. It was just her and Tremel. Two lost Sith in a galaxy of Jedi.

33 BBY (3622 ATC)

Obi-Wan knew her apprentice enjoyed to test her. He'd test her authority, skill, her patience, mostly her patience. It had been nearly three years since she took the child under her wing, her hair had grown, and along with the length came a few stray gray hairs, which she completely blamed the child.

She now sympathized with her poor captain, who had gotten quite the number of gray hairs during his years in her service. Force knows she liked to push his buttons, and Vette was no different. He certainly fared no better each time she had frightened him to near death. Whenever the two got into an argument about a plan they were coming up with, he always made sure to point out which gray hairs were from the last time she performed a life-threatening stunt.

However, unlike her young apprentice, she had reasons to do what she did. Anakin seemed to just like to test the limits. First came the rule-breaking, nothing major, at first. Then came the more yelling and defiance. He attempted to break some of her nicer teacups, probably just to see what would happen if they did break, then came him stealing her lightsaber. It was enough that for just a moment, she almost didn't put up a fight in the agoge thinking that just maybe she could use a short break. But the thought passed as quickly as it came. She couldn't give up on him.

She finally figured out why he was pressing her buttons one night when she was meditating. Unlike most of the other Jedi, she appreciated being exposed to the elements when she meditated. It grounded her made her focus. She would often go to the top of one of the roofs and slip into a handstand, balancing herself and the Force around her. Then she heard Anakin call her name. The second she looked up, her apprentice had flung himself off the tower as if he was trying to get to the next section over. She dropped from the pose with no delicacy or finesse. He pushed the Force away from her, giving her apprentice just enough of a shove to get over the gap and onto the next section. Two thoughts went through her head as soon as he landed safely.

1. She was absolutely going to murder her apprentice

2. He trusted her enough to not let him die

The time it took for him to get back to where she was laying on the roof was enough for her to calm down enough that murder was no longer on the tables.

Her child almost flung himself to his death.

"That was SO much fun!" He cheered. The child grinned like he had just gotten off the fastest speeder known in the galaxy. His excitement permeated from their bond, and she sighed.

"I'm so glad scaring me half to death was worth it," she muttered, pushing herself up to a seated position. Her eyes drifted to the space where he had landed. "You know, if you give me more of a heads up, I'm sure we can get you farther."

He brightened in the Force. Sucker, she was a sucker. In just a few years, his bright eyes and smile had her just as wrapped around his little finger as her little Brae did.

What she couldn't shake though, as she once more flung him between rooftops, was, he trusted her. He trusted her to keep him in line and to keep him safe.

'Force, how am I to do this without you by my side? I can barely keep the child alive.' She thought with the hole in her heart feeling more apparent. She knew how, though. She could almost hear his voice in her ear.

Try. Keep fighting and try. You don't have to be perfect, just be there, present.

So she would, until the child no longer wanted her.

If there was one thing that Obi-Wan quickly learned while being a Jedi master was that the fresher was a sacred place, especially as a master to a young male apprentice. It was the one place that she could go without the fear that he would burst into the room at any moment. It took a few awkward times before she finally came up with the idea that, in the future, would probably save them both.

Fresher time is private time.

Force, she savored her private time.

After a nightmare that left her waking drenched in sweat, private time was what she needed. She couldn't remember what the dream was about. But after seeing her husband's face flash through her mind, she was sure it had to do with her family. She sighed and pressed her hands against the smooth tiles of the fresher.

All had not been well that whole week. To which she blamed the nightmare for. Her apprentice was going through a phase… again. Human hormones, she was sure, was the cause. Puberty. That was what her husband called it once. In either case, the child bounced between emotions so fast she was getting whiplash. One moment he would be a clingy, shy child glued to her side like a youngling, and the next, he would be demanding his space and independence. As much as the emotions seemed to be draining the boy (as he seemed to now require 11 hours of sleep), it was draining her more. She could only manage to escape to the Sith shrine once every other week, if she was lucky, which meant that she left it all bottled deep inside behind many walls. It certainly didn't help that after a year with her apprentice, the council decided that she needed to see a mind healer who harassed her daily about coming in despite her rejections.

Younglings, she could understand and manage. But this. Whatever her apprentice was becoming, was beyond her reach. While avoiding the mind healer, she holoed Tremel, who had the gall to laugh at her.

With the near-boiling water running down her back, she sighed. Despite Tremel's amusement, he had agreed to meet with her. But, as much as she appreciated his help, she knew her real issue.

Anakin did not see her as his mother. And she knew he was not Brae. While she had reassured herself that her husband was more than capable of taking care of the children without her, she was nothing without him. He kept her grounded, centered. Now she was doing whatever she could to not give away the truth.

"Master!" the door to the fresher burst open. Panic flared through her as she was quick to press herself against the far too cold tile wall and throw up a Force barrier to keep her apprentice from entering further.

"Anakin Skywalker, have we not discussed this before?" she shrieked. His flustered energy leaked across the bond immediately.

"Fresher time is private time." he intoned quietly. "But you've been in her ages!"

"Are you dying?"

"We're all dying master, just some faster than others," he answered cheekily. She couldn't help it when her arm shot out of the fresher and threw the bar of soap at him. "No master."

"Do I need to save anyone in the immediate vicinity?"

"... I don't think so."

"Is the kitchen on fire?"

"Not yet master," his voice was far too cheeky for her liking. However, she took a deep breath and counted to ten while breathing a prayer to the gods.

"Then, whatever it is, can wait another two minutes for me to finish up and get decent. Meanwhile, meditate on why you shouldn't be interrupting your master while she's in the fresher."

She heard him snicker as he left, leaving her once more to the peaceful quiet of the fresher. She sighed heavily, rubbed her face with her hands, and shut the fresher off. She dried quickly and slipped into her trousers and loose beige shirt before stepping out of the fresher.

Wet hair still dripping, she stepped into their common area where Anakin was trying very hard to meditate.

"So, my restless padawan, what was so important that you burst into the fresher so early in the morning?" she asked, making her way to the kitchen to make tea.

"We're demonstrating our saber skills today, I wanted to make sure you'll be there… but I understand if you can't make it." his voice dropped, and though he tried to block it, she could feel him through the Force. She changed her route and moved to sit next to the young boy. Her hand ran through his soft hair as she smiled.

"I'm honored you want me to be there. Of course I'll attend."

Level 2685 was a cesspit. The neon lights and the smoggy atmosphere was a stark reminder of Nar Shaddaa. However, she found it the perfect place, like so many others, to do more clandestine affairs.

Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun, no braids or weaving done. With Anakin spending the day with the chancellor, she took the chance to pull on her "civvies" and make a special trip to the underworld. She was sure she missed all of the "cute" phases of childhood. Her oldest was three when she left. Somewhere between 3 and 9 must have been the cute phases. Tremel seemed to be in stitches when she told him about the mood swings. Human biology must have been very different. Luckily he agreed to meet with her to explain certain things. Apparently, there was something that she as a master, should have done, so he was going to bring her padawan brother to help explain things.

Club Kasakar. That was where Tremel had messaged her to meet him. There were far too many sleazy politicians there for her liking. The honor of the Republic. It disgusted her to see the people who beat her. At least the empire was run honestly, on pain of death (naturally), but the corruption in the republic was rotten to the core. Luckily she was able to find an empty booth to settle herself at. Her eyes were heavy-lidded as she sipped at a strong drink and relaxed into the leather of the seat. Several beings tried to approach her, but with a glare, they were quick to change their path. Finally, two beings sat down across from her, both with their hoods drawn up.

"It took you long enough." She drawled as she straightened in her seat.

"You look like you've been well, my Lord." Tremel bowed his head slightly.

"Sup, little Obi," Xan greeted. She held back the snort that almost broke through when Tremel landed a hit to the back of Xanatos' head and then Forced him into a lower bow. "Sorry, sorry, it is an honor to see you, milord. For Force sake, old man lemme go."

"It's alright Overseer, I'm used to Xan by now. I take it you've been trying to teach the acolyte hierarchy and manners?"

"To no avail. But then again, not every acolyte is a blessing as you were."

Obi-Wan rolled her eyes and waved him off.

"How have things been going in my absence?" She asked, business first, then pleasantries.

"It has been well, we've gathered a few more additions since Naboo. A few initiates expressed interest in the ways of the pure-blooded, so there should be a few more acolytes."

"Impressive indeed." Obi-Wan nodded before turning to Xanatos, "And how are your trials going?"

Once more, the grown man groaned and slumped in his seat.

"I swear this is harder than I thought it'd be."

"It always is." Obi-Wan agreed sympathetically.

"Speaking of hard," Tremel chimed in a grin pulling on his lips that screamed masochist. "You've expressed difficulties with your apprentice."

It was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh as she began explaining the list of questionable behavior her apprentice had shown in the past weeks. It took a while, with many snorts from Xanatos, who looked like he was about to wet himself. By the end of the tale, Xanatos had tears streaming down his face, and even Tremel was chuckling.

"Correct me if I overreach, but did you father, Far'sha, or that maid of yours ever discuss the body with you?"

"I remember a distinctly uncomfortable conversation with Far'sha and Nima shortly after my injury. Why do you ask?

"Well…" Tremel trailed off, looking to Xanatos.

"Your apprentice is going through puberty. And as his master, you need to talk to him about it." Xan said. Immediately Obi-Wan's face lit up bright red, and she floundered like a fish on land. "Come now, surely you've gone through it."

"Well, naturally, but… Qui-Gon certainly never had a conversation like that with me."

"He didn't? He sat me down, and we had a very long conversation." Xan seemed surprised.

"You had a son, did you not take this into consideration of your responsibilities?" Tremel asked.

"Not particularly. I think my husband and I just assumed that he would speak with our son and I with our daughter. Then for kicks and giggles, we'd hand them over to Nikholas for further explanations."

"Wait, son, daughter? What is he talking about, Obi?"

"Not now, Xan, later." Obi-Wan waved him off and crossed her arms over the table. "How do I even begin?

"Begin simple, explain that you understand that there will be changes, explain what you know, and express that you will be there," Tremel explains softly.

Obi-Wan dropped her head to her hands and cursed in her native tongue that had even Tremel impressed.

Then she felt a prickle at her bond with her apprentice. Her head raised, and she looked around the room.

She felt him.

She felt him nearby.

Across the room at a booth not far from theirs sat two beings in cloaks with their hoods, drawing them in the shadows. One was an adult, the robe made of fine material. The other was a child the robe clearly one of lesser quality but made in the same simplistic manner that she knew too well. Her mental shields slammed shut just before her fury raged. In the way that Xanatos flinched back, she knew, her eyes were that of Sith, molten lava.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, it appears that something came up," she growled as she stood.

The adult started laughing loudly and drew the attention of most of the customers in the club, as well as the gambling table where a senator and his guard had just lost. The two reached the table and towered over them, clearly upset. When the muscle grabbed the adult by the robe, she had reached them, and her hand latched around the muscle's wrist.

"I would let go if I were you." she hissed, standing clear in the middle.

"What would a woman know, step aside." the muscle, who was much taller than her leered. She flashed him a smile, and a second later, his arm was behind his back, and his face was pressed against the table.

"Now, this is how we are going to do this. You and the senator will settle your debt, and you will leave for the night. Then I will leave here with my father and son, and you will not speak a word of this to anyone."

The silence stretched out for a long minute as the entire club waited on bated breath. Then, slowly, she let the muscle go, waiting for him to retaliate. But neither he or the senator did. The two slowly left, obeying her order. When the club attendees decided the show was over and went back to their business, she crossed her arms and stared down at the two. Tremel came up behind her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. She could feel him pulling at her anger through their bond, trying to quell it to the best of his ability. But even he could not be successful, she was named wrath for a reason.

"Boreas, take Anakin outside. This is no place for a child." She instructed coldly.

"M-master!" Anakin squeaked, but Boreas moved quickly.

"Come along little Jedi, your master will meet us outside." He took Anakin's hand and quickly started towards the door. Anakin protested quite a bit, but Boreas Tremel was a difficult man to sway once he had his mind on something.

As soon as the overseer, her padawan brother, and her apprentice disappeared out the door, she sat down across from the Chancellor.

"Jedi Kenobi, I wonder what brings you here? Someone of your… demeanor, would not normally lower themselves to come here."

"I had a meeting with an old informant who did not feel comfortable meeting on the top levels. Imagine my surprise when I see my padawan sitting in a snake's den with the man who was supposed to be spending the day with him. When I let you take my padawan for the day, sir, I expected him to be spending the time in your office learning, not delving in the pits of the capital."

"I have my reasons," he answered with the crypticness her own father had been known for.

"The next time you think about taking my padawan somewhere like this, I'll make sure you never get a moment alone with him."

"He is a Jedi, Kenobi, and the Jedi answer to the senate. As chancellor, I can take him if I wish."

Obi-Wan saw red.

"You. are. Not. the. Senate. I am Anakin's legal guardian. He might be a member of the order, but that doesn't give you the jurisdictional rights you think it does. And if you think it does, taking him here just proves that you are not fit to have him in your custody." She snapped and stood. The conversation with the old man was over, and she left him there at the table. Boreas was sitting outside with her apprentice, Xan not far away, keeping silent guard over the two.

…

Anakin wouldn't admit it, but he panicked when Obi-Wan told the stranger to take him. Despite the fact the dark-skinned man was old, he had an iron grip, which only brought the fear even more as he was dragged from the club. But, as soon as they got outside the club, the old man sat him down on a bench.

"Don't worry, little one, your master will join us shortly." He grunted as he sat down next to him, "I understand why your master was upset, this place is certainly no place for a child."

"I'm not a child. I'm a Jedi." Anakin snapped. He wasn't a child, a child couldn't have a lightsaber or fight. He could do both. The old man smiled fondly at him.

"You're eleven, correct? In everyone's eyes, you're still very much a child, no matter how mature or strong you become. It might not seem all that dangerous in there, but if your master didn't step in when she did, it could have turned out much differently."

"I could have handled it! I still have my lightsaber!" Anakin protested. He was skilled enough to take care of that thug.

"I'm sure you could have, but a Jedi padawan injuring a senator's bodyguard and possibly the senator himself does not look good."

Anakin stewed as silence between the two of them grew, what was taking Obi-Wan so long. He glanced at the old man and noticed his mechanical hand, it looked like an antique made with old out of date durasteel and wiring. Immediately his head started going through how it was working, still working. He would have updated it immediately.

"A small price to pay." The old man said.

"What?"

"This," he wiggled his mechanical fingers. "I miscalculated something, I could have had myself and your master killed, but instead, it was just my hand."

"Did it hurt?" Anakin asked, curious as he stared at the hand.

"Well, it didn't tickle. Luckily it was quick."

"What stories are you telling him?" Obi-Wan's voice came from behind him. She was standing a few feet away from them, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. The old man laughed, his head thrown back at the Force.

"Not to worry, I didn't tell him anything in detail."

"I should hope not, those stories shouldn't be heard by anyone who wasn't present." She sighed. "I should be going, thank you for taking the time to speak with me Boreas."

"All you ever need do is ask, you know that." The old man nodded at her, his head dipping in a sort of acknowledgment. Then to Anakin's surprise, his master started speaking in a foreign language to him fluently. It was something he never heard before, rough guttural, but with the lilt of her voice, it sounded natural. The old man chuckled and responded in the same language before she held her hand out to Anakin.

"Come along."

Anakin felt like a child as she held his hand all the way back to the speeder. She spent the time to ensure that he was buckled, and everything in the speeder was set before taking off towards the temple.

He couldn't feel her behind her walls. But she felt cold. Not a single feeling was getting past her. He tugged lightly on their bond, trying to get a sense, any sense of her. Instead, her hand reached out and patted his hand. It was a long and uncomfortably silent ride to the temple. After the speeder was parked, Anakin mutely followed Obi-Wan to their rooms. The door to their warm quarters opened, and she pointed to his seat at their table. He went and sat down immediately as she went to the kitchen. The water ran for a few seconds, which meant only one thing. Tea. She took a long time in the kitchen before she returned holding a mug.

"I'm sorry, master." He whispered.

"I'm not mad at you, Anakin." She sighed, and he peeked up at her. "I am, however, furious at the Chancellor. That club is a dangerous place for any sentient being. Even though you're a padawan, you are still a child. There's all manner of people there. People who would take you at a second of thought." she said softly. He glanced up. Take him? Was she talking about slavers? He wondered. She set her mug down. "I could have lost you, with no clue where you were taken or who took you. The Chancellor is an adult, he should have known better."

"I was scared." he whispered, "when the man took me outside. I thought… I thought you were letting him take me."

Obi-wan let out a stream of words in the unknown language she spoke earlier. The way she looked, he could only guess she was cursing.

"I'm sorry, Anakin, I didn't think. Boreas Tremel is an old friend of mine, I've known him since I was much younger. I asked him to take you outside because I trusted him to keep you safe while I spoke to the Chancellor in private. I will do whatever I can to protect you." she sighed and leaned back. "I had actually asked Boreas to meet with me. I had questions that I only felt comfortable… well relatively comfortable asking him.

I've been worried about you, the mood swings, destructive behavior, the sleeping. It's been unlike you, so I thought asking a non-Jedi would be a way to understand a little. I must admit I was not expecting the answer."

"What did he say?" Anakin asked quietly.

"Puberty."

Anakin's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"I hadn't thought to speak with you about it, but I should have realized. As you grow, you'll notice some changes in your body. You might start to grow some hair in places you didn't have before, like your armpits, legs, even your genital area. There might be mornings you wake up and your…" she struggled for a moment and gestured helplessly at his lower region. "Your genitals might be stiff. You might feel urges…"

"Force, stop, please stop. Master Garen and Master Vos already talked to me." Anakin cut her off, looking just as horrified as she did.

"Thank goodness." she sighed her hand, pressing over her heart and relaxed.

"Did you really ask your friend to that place just to talk about that?" Anakin asked, looking amused. When she looked lost for words he only laughed in response. A moment later found her laughing too.