Star Wars: Light in the Dark

Transcribed from a 10 year old journal.
Likelyhood of being continued: 5%

Summary: A sleepless night fearing for Padme's life has finally produced results; and not a moment too soon, as Sidious puts his plans into motion.

Timeline/Spoliers: Revenge of the Sith through Return of the Jedi. AU tag.

2005/6 Author's forward: This story came about as I was finishing a skit for Animethon 12— the skit idea coming from an icon that I had made. I wondered what would have occurred if he really had discovered that 'miracle' cure. If Palpatine had been unable to tempt Anakin with the promise of saving Padme.

I've taken a number of liberties with the characters and the universe of Star Wars. I hope that you enjoy this despite or because of them.

—

He hadn't been able to sleep; his dreams, his nightmares, those damnable visions, always showed him the same heart stopping image: his beloved wife's death.

For the past [scribble, possibly an 8?] months, these dreams had plagued him, but it had only been in the last three months that he had discovered her to be with child. It was easy to make the connection that his beautiful angel, his beloved Padme, would die in childbirth.

For the last couple weeks he had awoken in a cold sweat leaping from bed to scour the temple library for any way to stop death. Insofar he had found nothing. Frustrated and beginning to feel the heat of fury gathering in his breast, Anakin Skywalker had halfheartedly made a search for information on the hows and whys of women dying in childbirth.

He had not expected to find anything; his visions had always failed to give him specifics on the how and why of her death. He only knew that she would and that she would be in agony as she did so. Despite the frustration a hope still flickered. A hope that blossomed into amazement and then a powerful relief that drowned out his irritation.

Buried, deep within medical document after medical document was the solution. It was an ancient practice, one that was hardly ever used outside of the Rim Worlds given it's reputation as a "barbaric" practice by the more civilized Core Worlds. But it could save Padme— the Force was almost singing to him in jubilation.

Now all he had to do was convince Padme that a Cesarean Section would save her and their child. Daunting task it may be, but Anakin had hope now; he could calm his frantic heart and not worry so much for his Padme. She was safe.

Drawing in a deep breath, the Knight sank into his chair with a drowsy smile and let his fears dissipate into the Force. His heart and mind felt lighter as he drifted off into sleep.

—

"Anakin…!"

The young Knight had spent the last hour and a half trying to convince his wife that the operation would be the best for her. Unfortunately for him, the only person more headstrong than he just so happened to be Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker. She refused to even consider a C-Section, citing that it was known as a dangerous and barbaric medical practice that could possibly leave her reproductive organs damaged. He had been pleading with her to at least consider it, trying to convince her that a medical droid would be quite capable of performing the task without causing undo harm.

"Padme, I know that—"

"No Anakin! Look!" the Senator was pointing over her shoulder, a look of horror on her face. Anakin whirled around, eyes first searching the room and then moving on to the skyline.

Blood drained from the knight's face as he took in the thick plumes of smoke billowing from the Jedi Temple. Anakin shuddered as he realized that the sudden influx of lives snuffed out had not been caused by a battle; he had been feeling the deaths from the temple and that horrified him.

He turned to run to his speeder, but Padme caught his arm and refused to let go. Her husband carefully pried her fingers off, "Padme, I have to go."

"You could be killed!" Padme worried at her lip, eyes dark and frightened, "Ani, if the temple is burning than not even the Masters could stop this!"

"I have to go, Padme. I cannot allow the Jedi to die! We've lost too much to this war already!"

"Ani…"

He kissed her softly, "Wait for me. Everything will be alright, you'll see." And then he was gone, his speeder taking to the air in a crazy race to the temple.

—

"Anakin!"

The Knight did not even pause to acknowledge Organa's shout. The Alderaanian Senator had looked shocked, but it didn't relay register. What did register was the corpse of a youngling at the landing pad.

The corpse and the clones standing over it.

"What's going on?!" Anakin bellowed, the recently familiar frustration of being unable to save anyone building into a fine rage. The clones did not answer with words, only with their blasters. Anakin responded in kind.

Though not an acknowledged Master, Anakin was just as powerful and as skilled as most of the council. He was in fine form; deflecting shots and raining down powerful blows. Clones fell into pieces just like droids as he cut a swath through the opposition and into the Temple.

His rage was only compounded by the sight of the dead younglings, the dead padawans, and dead knights. Clone trooper corpses littered the floor as well in testament to the force with which the Jedi had fought back.

Discarded weapons, debris, even bodies flew through the air as Anakin let loose with a howl of rage and despair. These were his friends and his comrades. One could have been his own padawan— but they were all dead. They wouldn't come back. His mother hadn't. Qui-Gon hadn't.

Lightsaber in hand, glowing with a brilliant blue-white heat, he tore through the rest of the Temple, cutting down clones. It did not appear that any Jedi had survived so far, and each corpse that he crossed only enraged him further.

The Dark Side kissed at his heels, dancing and coiling around his heart, twisting his mind into a raging beast who knew no difference between friend or foe. It was a slaughter, plain and simple. Clones fell before his rage just as surely and swiftly as the Tuskens had when his mother died.

That passing thought froze his mind, though his body continued to fight. The Tuskens had died by his hand, and that had sickened him. Guilt had eaten away at his soul— and now he was doing the same. His lightsaber died mid-swing, though it had already done it's damage.

The trooper hit the floor minus his head.

Bile built in his throat, and he only felt disgusted with himself. How could he have done this again? He had promised himself, meditated and consulted the Force. This should not have happened again.

His distraction cost him, and a blaster bolt caught him in the back. Stumbling, he fell through a door to the shocked cries of "Knight Skywalker!"

He was in the Council Chambers. A ragtag group of younglings had hidden within, maybe ten in total. Not one of them was older than eight; was this all that was left? Rage built again, but he fought it off as best he could.

"Knight Skywalker!" a small sandy haired boy ran to his side, "Knight Skywalker, what do we do? There's too many!"

The Jedi swallowed down his fear; he could not afford to fall to the Dark Side while protecting the younglings. "There's not much we can do," he mumbled, then cleared his throat, "Back to your hiding places. Do not move until I tell you to do so."

All the younglings excluding the one at his side returned to their crouches behind the chairs. The eight year old ignited his own green-bladed saber. Anakin frowned. "I said to hide."

"I can't Master Skywalker," the boy spoke with a distinct accent, "I must fight for the memory of my master."

Anakin wanted to argue, to send him off to be protected with the others, but a part of him— a part larger than he wanted to admit too— wanted to keep the boy with him. Needed the boy to remain, to act as a buffer against the rage and hate licking at his heels. So long as he was protecting some, he would not allow himself to fall into despair and allow the Force to consume him.

His own blade drawn and held in a loose grip, the Chosen One struggled not to acknowledge the ripples in the Force indicative of the deaths of the Council. Whatever was happening in the Galaxy, it was not a pleasant situation.

Clone troopers only came by occasionally, obviously assuming that the Temple was theirs. He and the boy "held the line" so to speak. The boy— Ten-Rah— had only had a training saber, so no damage could be done, but it was the intimidation factor that Anakin was after. The sight of a child with a lethal weapon was just enough to put someone off long enough for Anakin to ensnare the trooper's mind and make him believe that the Council chambers were empty.

It was a long and arduous task; Ten-Rah swaying on his feet as he tried to stay awake. How long had it been? The sun had been setting when Anakin had stormed the Temple. It was now high in the sky, and beginning to droop towards the horizon.

So… seventeen hours? Eighteen? The sounds of battle had died down long ago. Anakin still felt some guilt for the deaths that he may have been able to prevent, but that was far better than the guilt that would have plagued him had he allowed the younglings to die. So when blaster fire began again he nearly jumped out of his skin.

One of the younglings had scampered to the window to peer out, "Knight Skywalker! It's Master Yoda!"

Anakin sagged in relief, extinguishing his lightsaber. Ten-Rah followed suit before collapsing to his knees. "I'm so tired…"

"You did well Ten-Rah. Your Master would have been proud," Anakin offered a weak smile before sweeping the youngling into his arms. "Alright. Lets head out and meet up with Master Yoda. He might be able to tell us what's going on."

Stretching out with his senses, Anakin was delighted to find Obi-Wan with Yoda. He didn't know what he would have done if Obi-Wan had died— the man was as dear to him as Padme was, though certainly for different reasons. Carefully picking their way through the debris and bodies, Anakin could sense the horror and despair from the younglings as they looked at the crumbled remains of their lives. Things would never be the same.

"Anakin?"

"Master Yoda, Master." Anakin tiredly tipped his head in greeting, "It is good to see that you two are alive."

"Are these all that…?" Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat. Anakin only had nine younglings with him.

"There may be more," Anakin sighed, "but I doubt it. I found these ones in the Council chambers last night and remained to protect them."

"Did well you have, young Skywaler," Yoda nodded grimly, "Hope for the future these younglings are."

"Do you know what happened?" Anakin wondered, "I arrived after the majority of the battle, why did the clones turn on us?"

Obi-Wan and Yoda exchanged tired stares, "Proclaimed himself Emperor, Palpatine has. Enemy of the state the Jedi have become."

"What? Why?" his mentor, his friend… why would Palpatine turn on them like that?

"Palpatine is the Sith Lord we have been searching for," Obi-Wan closed his eyes, "the security holos show him leading the charge into the Temple, though he left once the remaining members of the Council perished."

"All this time…" Anakin felt ill again. His old friend, a Sith Lord? He had told Palpatine everything; left nothing secret not even— "Padme!"

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan was confused at the sudden switch of topics.

"Palpatine knows that Padme and I…" he trailed off. He couldn't admit his marriage he would be… but the Temple was no more. There was no reason to fear explusion from the Temple, "He knows that Padme is my wife."

Yoda's eyes widened, but Obi-Wan's stare grew grim. "Then Padme's child is yours, I assume."

"Yes."

"Use your child for evil, Palpatine will," Yoda's voice was soft, "Protect Senator Amidala we must. Anakin. The younglings to Bail Organa take. Protect the Senator Obi-Wan will."

"What?" Anakin looked confused, "She's my wife!"

"Do what would you if injured she is? Safer with Obi-Wan will she be. Fight the Emperor I will."

"But I—"

"Do not argue, Anakin," Obi-Wan counselled, "Master Yoda is right. Padme will be safe with me, and the younglings will feel safer with their saviour than either of us."

Anakin sighed, looking down at the tired and worn faces of his charges, "Alright Master, I understand."

"I will bring Padme to you as soon as I can, do not worry."

Anakin cracked a small unamused grin, "Who's worried, Master?"

—-

It had been difficult getting nine children from the Temple to Senator Organa's ship without being noticed. Anakin wasn't quite sure how they had managed it, but it had taken gratuitous use of the mind trick. It was both a blessing and a curse that the younglings were so tired. They did not have the energy to be rambunctious and get themselves caught, but they also lacked the presence of mind to be able to move silently and quickly.

Still they had gotten into the Tantive, tucking themselves away into the small kitchen area where Anakin left them to get something to eat. He barely noticed as Ten-Rah trotted after him, having only grabbed himself a piece of fruit.

To Anakin's immense relief, Padme arrived at the ship in perfect health. Padme, on the other hand, gave a strangled cry and ran to him, clutching at his tunic with white knuckles.

"Padme?!" he was startled, but that hardly prevented him from wrapping his arms around her, "Padme, what's wrong?"

C3PO had shuffled in after the Senator, "Oh! Master Anakin, it is wonderful to see you! The Chancellor had informed us of your death and Miss Padme has not stopped crying since."

Despite the less than stellar way of relaying the information, Anakin was grateful to Threepio, hugging his wife tighter. He did not want to think of the wreak that he would be if Padme had died on him.

Obi-Wan took Ten-Rah's hand and motioned Threepio out. "We will talk later, Anakin." his former Padawan nodded before returning his full attention ot is wife. He would give her all the comfort that she needed.

When Yoda rejoined them it was without fanfare, without a cloak, and without his lightsaber. He had failed in his task to eliminate the Emperor, and felt that the only recourse was to go into exile. He cautioned Anakin and Obi-Wan to do the same, for the Emperor would be look for any and all Jedi.

"What about the younglings?" Obi-Wan wanted to know. A half-trained child was far worse than an untrained one.

"With me they shall go," Yoda bowed his head, "Hidden by the Force we must be. Know of one place do I to his a master and nine Padawans."

"Eight," corrected a small voice, and the three Jedi turned to see young Ten-Rah standing at the door. He flushed, "That is… that is if Anakin will accept me as his Padawan."

"Much trouble this is," Yoda sighed, "Sense the bond form the Emperor will. Track it he may; find your son he will. On his shoulders a great destiny lies, Anakin. Fall not into Palpatine's grasp can we let him."

"Then what can we do?" Padme whispered, hands on her swollen abdomen. Her fear for her unborn child rippled through the Force around them.

"If Padawan bond Anakin accepts, when your son arrives separate must you two be," Yoda folded his hands with a frown, "From Coruscant as far as possible must you be. Disguise what happened we could."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan gave the ancient Jedi a curious look.

"Fake Anakin's death we may, if far enough away he is." the little green man was staring into space, reading the what lines of the future that were still open to him, "Clouded it is. Know not if Palpatine will believe it."

"Then we have to give him a reason to believe it," Bail gave the youngest Jedi a hard look, "Something to indicate that Anakin killed himself."

Anakin shook his head, "He knows me too well. He'd never believe I committed suicide."

"If it had to do with Senator Amidala…" Obi-Wan offered, "Perhaps her death…"

"No." Anakin disagreed, and it was with reluctance that he admitted "I… it's more likely that I'd lose myself and use the Dark Side, not cause me to commit suicide." This was too be a day of revelations for his fellow Jedi, "… it would not be the first time, and Palpatine knows that."

"Oh, Anakin…" Padme took his hand in hers. It was a strange thing to be able to do this before others.

"What about your child?" Ten-Rah wondered.

"What about him?"

"In the holovids," the boy explained in a rush, "sometimes the daddy isn't the father. Sometimes it's the friend of the daddy."

From the mouth of babes… Obi-Wan thought, even as Padme spoke, "There are already thousands of rumors over who the father is. If we embellished one…"

"It may just work," Anakin's smile was grim, "Though I don't like using our son like that."

"But who could we trust to do this?" Obi-Wan wondered. Bail raised a hand slowly.

"I will do it. My wife is barren, all of Alderaan knows that. Taking a lover on the side would not be unexpected of me."

"Sure of this you are?"

"Yes," the man nodded firmly, "Already there are rumors and pictures flooding the holonet about us. 'Confirming' it will only make the galaxy content to know that they were right."

"Help us this 'knowledge' will. Belief of a galaxy hide the deceit it should." Yoda was missing him gimmer stick. He'd gone to tap it a few times only to remember that it and his lightsaber were gone.

"This will protect both Anakin and the child," Obi-Wan mused, "as well as allow Ten-Rah to continue his training

—-

it literally cuts off without a period or closing quotes or anything else. There are two blank pages following that.

All the C-Section stuff was fucking painful to write. It has a completely different tone from the rest of the story. Which looking at it, I might cut that out and revise what I did write so that it makes more sense. Maybe throw Ahsoka into it— I can't remember if she existed at the time I wrote this or not. When did the Clone Wars come out?

Okay the internet tells me that it came out in 2008, and I wrote this around 2005/2006, so that explains that.

The writing is painful to read. Awkward sentence structure and stilted dialogue. It's almost like it's Revenge of the Sith or something.