In a not so different Universe, where one left turn was as life altering as death, Jedi Master Qui-gon Jinn and his apprentice Obi-wan Kenobi have just arrived on Coruscant to deliver the news that a long thought extinct order of dark Jedi, the Sith, have once again begun to roam the galaxy. This is not the only news that comes to light. Anakin Skywalker, a boy Master Qui-gon Jinn is convinced is the fabled "Chosen One", has also been brought to stand in front of the Jedi Council and perhaps become a Jedi himself...

Scene I: The Sphere

Where is he? His search for Anakin Skywalker had begun all of forty-five minutes ago, Obi-wan didn't dedicate that sort of time to finding his own lightsaber (not that he would ever have the audacity to lose it in the first place, thank you very much, but he was trying to make a point) let alone some small human he scarcely tolerated.

One may ask: Why wasn't Master Qui-gon minding the boy?

To which another, far more patient Jedi than he, would reply: Because Obi-wan was still his padawan and thus it was perfectly obvious that he should be relegated to baby-sitter when the Republic was on the verge of galactic civil unrest, that's why.

As he came to the grand archway of the Relics Archive Obi-wan thought, surely his path would not deviate so far...?

Obi-wan entered the cavernous room. It's high domed ceiling obscured by the darkening twilight. Rows upon rows of wooden crates seemed to line onwards until eternity. Each box emblazoned with a name a number and a date, clearly catalogued and arranged, like a giant library of objects instead of books, though Obi-wan didn't doubt there were probably a few books in there as well.

There you are.

The child stood looking at a giant golden orb with mild distrust and Obi-wan wondered for a moment at the look of preternatural calculation on Anakin's face. The orb that the boy was so fiercely scrutinizing – a watery translucent gold that spanned the width of a small satellite– appeared on Curoscant only a few days ago. Silent, unassuming but huge in size, as if a giant toddler had forgotten to put his toys away– the thing was all a big mystery.

And so naturally Obi-wan and Qui-gon jinn were sent to investigate the simple matter before they were sent out to negotiate with the Trade Federation and their intentions toward the Naboo. Master Qui-gon couldn't make heads or tails of it and when the situation on Naboo had become... dubious, the council had agreed they should transport it back to the Temple Relics Archive.

And this is where he found his spur-of-the-moment ward after his meeting with the Jedi Council.

Obi-wan sighed. To be honest he had a very bad feeling about that orb. The council was convinced it was a practical joke from the neighboring Litgarean system. Planet Philos had a mischievous streak in its religious holidays and had set a precedent of anonymously "gifting" large, unwelcome, though fairly harmless, objects to neighboring unsuspecting populations, much to the chagrin of the Jedi who were sent as the disposal unit. The timing seemed to fit. And though Obi-wan suggested they simply ask the Philoseans, it was the third day of the Noelmas Festival and by then the people of Philos were barely coherent enough to remember where they left their own homes let alone any thing else of import.

The orb seemed harmless enough, it's sheer size was the only burden but Obi-wan...Obi-wan had a very bad feeling about that orb.

Yes, let's bring the highly suspicious, completely unfamiliar, alien artifact to the center of the Universe's keepers of peace. I'm sure it's only just here for decoration, Obi-wan thought dryly.

He wondered, for the first time, at the integrity of the council's common sense. The rogue Jedi Master Qui-gon would be so proud.

As it was, Master Qui-gon seemed to have forgotten, or simply didn't care, about the matter. In fact, not much other than the training of the 'Chosen One' seemed to cross his Master's mind of late.

"You missed Master Qui-gon's apartment leagues ago. It was a left in that last corridor." Obi-wan said at last to the boy, his hands folded inside the sleeves of his robes. The boy startled and Obi-wan's brows knit slightly.

"Oh," Anakin said turning his sad blue eyes towards him. "I thought you were Qui-gon."

"You should pay more attention." Obi-wan said and frowned. The boy was practically melancholic. He remembered well what it felt like to be young and unwanted. There was a sudden dull pain in his chest and a slow, bone-chilling cold spread through Obi-wan. He felt the Force stir around him.

"What?" the boy said his brows knitting in bemusement.

"As untrained as you are you still should have been able to feel my approach in the force."

"Okaaay."

The word was drawn out obnoxiously and Obi-wan wasn't sure why he was bothering with the impromptu lesson in the Jedi arts. He wasn't even particularly fond of the boy, and his sadness was of no consequence to him no matter how familiar. But it was too late, the die had been cast and the boy was solidly focused on him now. It was a little disconcerting how those bright blue eyes followed him.

"Close your eyes, please." he said with a bit of impatience.

The boy eyed him warily and Obi-wan wondered why he ever thought this was a good idea.

"Hey...you're not going to pull something funny on me are ya'?" Anakin narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "Mom always kept telling me to watch out for the pretty ones. I thought she meant Padme, but maybe you're just as bad."

Obi-wan gave a slight nod, "I see. In that case enjoy yourself," he said and as he turned to leave Obi-wan added, "But I was under the impression you wanted to be a Jedi."

"Wait!" Anakin said, Obi-wan turned around as Anakin slowly slid one doubtful eye closed and then the second and sighed impatiently, "Okay, what am I supposed to be feeling?"

Slipping his eyes closed as well Obi-wan replied, "Just concentrate. We're both Force-sensitive, you tell me."

After a moment of impatient sighing, Obi-wan heard a faint gasp and knew instantly that Anakin felt the pulse in the Force.

Anakin was swept under by the sensation. It was like a strange unfurling, like something unnaturally natural, like a flower kept in the dark, like foreign spices, like everything terrible and good all in one. The energy was intense, but not threatening; Obi-wan felt like a bright beacon of light against the blankness of a void. Anakin didn't understand how he had never realized it before, and now that he did he knew with a certainty that was usually reserved for mechanical engineering that he would forever see Obi-wan in this light, would eternally recognize the young Jedi beside him.

"Wow." He said, opened his eyes and beamed at a startled Obi-wan, then he looked back at the Orb as if he just realised it was still there, "So, what is this thing, anyway?"

"As far as any conclusive reports go, it's an unidentified foreign object of peculiar physical properties, questionable origin and unknown purpose."

"So, you have no idea."

"In a manner of speaking, that would be correct." he agreed reluctantly, "But Master believes it to be a harmless practical joke by the neighboring planetary system."

"And you think Qui-gon is full of it." Anakin grinned.

Obi-wan looked at Anakin sharply, but with amusement.

"It would do you well to learn a little restraint in your disrespect, young one. But yes, My Master and I are in disagreement. And that's Master Qui-gon, to you." Obi-wan added, he didn't smile but his cerulean eyes were amiably mischievous and bright.

Anakin's beaming face shadowed like a dark cloud passing over the sun and he suddenly frowned.

"I'm not going to become a Jedi, am I?" side slanted eyes slid over to Obi-wan.

"It is unlikely the council would take such a risk." replied Obi-wan. He didn't say it to be cruel. In fact Obi-wan saw it as a bit of a mercy to keep the child from believing in something that would very likely not come to pass. Anakin's anger spiked and Obi-wan nearly recoiled from it's intensity, but he kept his features calm and his eyes stoic. Ah, he thought, and that right there is why I believe it.

The boy was perhaps unique, likely dangerous, and certainly volatile. Why did Qui-gon jinn refuse to see it? Obi-wan would never know.

Anakin bristled under the emotionless face of the Jedi.

Bastard, Anakin thought, doesn't he know how bad I'm feeling right now?

He only wanted some reassurance, however unfounded. It was cold here, and his mother was so so far away, and for a moment he thought that Obi-wan might want to be friends. Well, who needs him, he thought, even as he ached for the man's friendship.

Obi-wan wasn't the first person to be kind to him, and Qui-gon was certainly a better Jedi, but Obi-wan shone like the brightest constellations of Tatooine's sky.

He felt Obi-wan's aura still gyrating like a small, local pulsar, shining with unseen light. If he closed his eyes he could still feel his body hungrily reach out, attempt to pull in the energy and assimilate it. Every molecule in his body felt the pull of Obi-wan's Force energy, drinking it as though fighting off the ache of long depravation.

I wish I never met him. I wish he were my friend, he thought contrarily.

Anakin tried to relax, he really didn't want Obi-wan to know how deeply his incontinence hurt him. Because no matter how he tried to spin it, that's what it felt like to Anakin. Abandonment. It was cut and dried desertion and if he really tried he thought that he might actually be able to set his feelings on fire.

Obi-wan watched the boy. Almost reflexively he placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. Either in warning or reassurance even Obi-wan was unsure, but the outcome was the same regardless of intention; Anakin deflated, anger vanishing as quickly as it had sparked and stared at the ground. Uncomfortable with the familiarity of the action, Obi-wan pulled his hand back and tucked it back into his robe's sleeve.

Comforting small creatures was his Master's specialty not his.

He stared at the bowed blond head and had the sudden thought that perhaps his Master had been thoughtlessly cruel. Anakin was not a pet to be picked up and left again. He was a child. A child who had been whisked away in the fury of good intentions, with the promise of guidance and care only to encounter uncertainty, possible abandonment, or worse back to the life of slavery that he had escaped only to be hurled into once again.

Obi-wan vacillated erratically between promising the boy things that a Jedi had no right promising and running as far away, as fast as humanly possible. Obi-wan wished for many things. He was unfortunate.

As it was he shouldn't have bothered, the orb's surface rippled once, twice. Time seemed to slow down, elongate and collapse. It wavered in and out of his vision, struggling to keep its shape, it pulled Obi-wan within its embrace– inside it's round belly. The last thing Obi-wan saw before he was sucked into the orb was Anakin's frozen face: eyes round and mouth formed into a small 'oh' of surprise and dismay. Obi-wan's bad feeling had become downright appalling.

Obi-wan squinted his eyes against the brightness that blinded him, a wild burst of stars flashed a flourescent after image in the back of his retinas as a sudden headache behind his temples arched and he stumbled forward. He looked around and had no idea where he was. One moment he had been speaking with Anakin Skywalker padawan-in-waiting and the next he was...not.

Disorientation and nausea ruled, until a small juvenile groan made his head snap to the ground so fast he was sure he had whiplash. Oh, stars above, he thought. But sure enough there on the red ground was the small huddled and unconscious shape of Anakin Skywalker.

He thought, on some really basic oh, shit level, that this was going to be bad.

The electric thrum of lightsabers had him on alert even before he felt the disturbance in the Force. Only years of training kept him from making a fool of himself.

Obi-wan crouched behind the dune of red rock that kept him and the boy out of sight as two men– No, two Jedi– were engaged in fierce combat. The hum of their lightsabers echoed throughout as their weapons met again and again.

Obi-wan watched it all with growing alarm.

Their moves were fluid, relentless, and full of such fire that Obi-wan felt that this would be a far more likely reason they'd burn up into ash, and not the very real river of lava that coursed like blood through beating veins throughout the terrain they were all so precariously perched upon.

The shorter Jedi in brown made in an impressive jump over the Jedi in black, flipping over backwards and somersaulting to higher ground.

Obi-wan saw it end even before it happened. And though he felt a curl of relief unfold in his stomach at the advantage this position afforded the Jedi in the brown cloak there was also unflinching dread there, as well. As if the cloud of rage and cruelty that signaled the presence of every Dark user- and surely it enveloped the man in black– was not enough for Obi-wan to want to encourage the Jedi in brown to victory.

How curious.

The sudden crescendo of pain, like a spike of steel jammed through his temple, was almost enough for Obi-wan to cry out. The scream startled him, at first he thought he had cried out, but the scream belonged instead to someone else.

And suddenly it was over and as both men fell, Obi-wan understood two things: firstly, the Jedi in brown had purposely missed. The blow that should have ended in death merely left the other maimed and unconscious. And secondly, the Jedi in brown, the one falling to his knees, the one dying before his very eyes, was himself.

Obi-wan stood away from his position behind the rock, suddenly panting for breath. Panic had settled like a lead weight into his bones and he could not seem to move fast enough as the other him– the bearded him, the dying him– dragged his butchered body along the ground. Obi-wan trembled; he griped the edge of the stone until his hands whitened but he could not steady himself. He stared at the bearded man in disbelief, a sense of denial.

He could feel the Force bend and bow before him, a physical thing that tore at his mind and body. The other Obi-wan felt it as well, he screamed and the lunacy in that sound made Obi-wan's blood run cold. He half-ran half-stumbled to his other self and enfolded him in his arms.

But as soon as they touched his mind was invaded.

It was sudden and immediate, forcing its way into the front of his cerebral vision like it was desperate to be noticed. A shout of pain so loud that he almost covered his ears. It reverberated, it tore at him. It was raping his thoughts, and he couldn't understand the source. Like kites without streamers of meaning, until he saw the pictures to the story.

At some moments chilling at others desperately sad, the images sent a keening wail of loss within Obi-wan. Desolation. The death of a father. Duty and a boy who was brother and son even as he fell into darkness. Thoughts... images, actually, disjointed recollections he couldn't really place flew by. Anakin sleeping. Anakin angry and righteous. Anakin tinkering with his machines. Laughing Anakin. Crying Anakin. Anakin accidently blowing up the Jedi Mechanic's lab...

Anakin, Anakin. How could you, Anakin?

His name was a mantra in a prayer over and over in his head.

Obi-wan was flooded with feelings so strong– so overpowering, that it nearly blew out all other senses– for a boy who he'd met only a few hours ago. He was feeling a lifetime of repressed emotion in one brief touch.

He noticed all this with uncanny clarity as time seemed to slow; the minutes elongated, drawn out like pooling mollases even as the drumming of his heartbeat– and the beat of the heart belonging to the young man who's rhythm once matched his beat for beat when he held its owner too close and for too long– warned him of time's deception.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity; his breathing slowed and he let the echo of the wind ease him into his senses and bring him back, slowly, to some measure of control. The feeling of agony, betrayal and doom was still there but as his senses were strung together he was able to push past the overwhelming uproar in the force and find equilibrium. When he could breath again he looked for his other self. He felt the dread pool in his belly for what he might find once his vision focused. The older Jedi had somehow pulled himself up and grabbed Obi-wan.

"Save him," the wounded man rasped, holding Obi-wan's wrist in a vice like grip, "Tell Anakin...Tell him...He was, is, always...my brother."

Even as he struggled against him the man was already dying. Obi-wan kneeled in the hot dirt and watched himself die.

He eased the corpse onto the ground, and as the misery in his head dulled into a thudding ache, he closed his eyes and sagged a little.

Every promise he'd made on attachment and the Code went flying out the window. It wasn't like fighting a compulsion, either, where you argue it back and forth through sweat and shiver; it was like blinking for a moment and finding out it had already happened.

Obi-wan stood and with shaking hands pulled up his hood over his head and prepared to drag the maimed and unconscious body of the man whom he didn't know yet adored anyway, away from the edge of the river of lava.

It hurt to touch this grown Anakin, for incredibly that was whom this man was, like a piece within him had broken off and settled somewhere else. Obi-wan pulled the man farther and farther away from the maw of fire. Sweat from heat and exhaustion dripped down his temple and into his already stinging eyes and he fell stumbling backward, the other man's head falling awkwardly on his lap. Obi-wan stared. Tentatively, like watching someone else– someone not himself, some other man unconstrained by an ancient and neglectful code of conduct– as they lifted their hand and ghosted his fingertips over the other young man's brow, and froze. He didn't dare follow through with such an obviously intimate act.

Not because it was so novel, but because it wasn't. He scrambled backwards quickly and inelegantly, the man's head made a red cloud rise up as it hit the dirt. Obi-wan frowned.

Strange how only a moment ago the act of putting his hand on the child Anakin's shoulder had been so unfamiliar.

Obi-wan had very little time to deliberate on this novelty, for suddenly Obi-wan's senses were on full alert. He ducked swiftly as a red lightsaber cleaved the air in half where his head had once been.

He barrel rolled to his left and came face to face with his opponent, his own weapon drawn and at the ready hoping beyond hope that this new menace was ignorant of the child hidden behind a nearby dune.

The face that greeted him made Obi-wan think that the Senate should be flogged. Flogging. Really. How uncivilized, his rational mind told him, but nothing about this day was at all rational so he ignored it and went with the flogging.

"Palpatine." Obi-wan said and it wasn't exactly a question.

Palpatine looked at him, half of his angular face covered by his black hood, the jagged edges teased the corner of his mouth and eyes. Wisps of grey hair framed dark, narrow eyes. He smiled and held out hands with long, slender fingers. "And who might you be? What is a Jedi Padawan doing on such a nasty little planet?" he asked him.

Obi-wan glanced at the braid of hair that marked his apprenticeship where it lay against his shoulder and was glad for the hood that hid his face. Memories that weren't his own slid by his consciousness and things clicked into place. The rule of two, he thought, Qui-gon had fought with the wrong sith; a Master for an apprentice. And an apprentice for a Master. How very ironic.

He shifted, settling into a defensive stance. "What do you want here?"

The sith spread his arms wide. "Nothing, actually. I just decided to take a stroll, and resolved to collect my apprentice while I was out," His grin widened. "I never thought I'd actually run into another Jedi. At least not one as alive as you."

"Leave." Obi-wan's voice was clear and hard.

The sith laughed. "Come now, child. You don't know a thing about me." He rolled his neck and pulled the edge of his robe back, revealing the lightsaber hilt at his hip.

"Do you really want to try and fight me, little Jedi?"

"If I must." Obi-wan replied.

He didn't even see the old man move but Obi-wan had to block a high swing, and had no time to deliberate on his opponents incongruent speed as he countered with his own attack. The Jedi's laser blade slid over the Sith's and into the flesh of his arm.

The Sith jumped back, holding up his arm to inspect the shallow burn. "First blood," he commented. "I underestimated you." He took another step back, smiling wickedly. "You can call me Darth Sidious."

Sidious attacked with a push of the Force. Obi-wan hit the ground hard and rolled, letting momentum have its way with him. He braced his ankle and pushed off, leaping toward the Sith, lightsaber raised. He dodged, not looking back as the red beam ripped through a boulder behind him.

The Sith charged Obi-wan, lightsaber swinging, and Obi-wan found he didn't have the time to dodge them all completely. He backpedaled, blocking what he could with his lightsaber, and turning so that what he missed only speared cloth. Sidious caught and tore at Obi-wan's robe, grinning cruelly as he tore through the dark material.

Sidious whirled, a backhanded strike aiming for Obi-wan's face. Obi-wan turned his head away, baring his teeth as the Force push opened cuts on his cheek. He continued his spin, swinging his lightsaber in a wide arc that forced Sidious to backpedal. He pressed his advantage, attacking quickly and never withdrawing.

Sidious defended as quickly as he attacked, and Obi-wan quickly found that taking the time he needed to call upon the Force would have been a fatal mistake.

Obi-wan stepped backward, ducking one swing and then darted forward. He swung low expecting the sith to fall back but Sidious stepped forward instead of pulling away, and that was all that was needed to knock Obi-wan slightly off balance.

The red beam sliced through Obi-wan's shoulder. At first Obi-wan felt nothing then an agony like that which he never felt before spread through his body. It felt like an explosion of heat and misery had taken hold. Obi-wan staggered back and even as he saw the remains of his arm lying in a pitiful mangled heap in the dirt he did not lose grip of his lightsaber.

Obi-wan's vision swam and he could hardly hear the cackling laughter through the buzz in his ears.

"How pitiful!" the Sith was saying, "When even their great Obi-wan Kenobi lies dead in the dirt the Jedi council thought to send a mere padawan!"

Obi-wan's mind reeled. Even with both arms he was severely outclassed. There was no hope in defeating the Sith now.

Obi-wan was going to die in a universe he didn't belong to the dirge of laughter from a deranged geriatric Sith.

Obi-wan closed his eyes and tried to release his pain into the Force. He only needed a moment without pain to think...A few years ago he had taken to wearing a concealed knife in his boot-- a disagreement with a large prostitute and her equally large pimp who decided to play keep away with his lightsaber had helped him come to this decision-- when Anakin asked about it once and though Obi-wan glazed over the specifics of one of Master Qui-gon's less thought out plans, the boy had thought it was a good idea...

"Your apprentice," he rasped his voice coming out a strangled wheeze, "he killed Obi-wan Kenobi."

"Yes. He is an exceptional tool. With him by my side I will be able to create an Empire that will stretch to every corner of the universe."

Obi-wan closed his eyes and let out a long suffering breath, "I see. In that case, your tool seems to be catching fire, Chancellor."

The lie took hold just as a bleary eyed and confused boy stumbled out from behind the dune. The moment the Sith was distracted Obi-wan Force pushed the older Anakin's concealed knife straight through the Sith's shin. A cry of pain and outrage reverberated through the force but Obi-wan was already on the run, grabbing the boy and hauling him towards the sith's speeder.

He collapsed on the vehicle sideways, but spared no time as he shifted the speeder into gear and hoped that he didn't pass out, or loose the befuddled boy that clung to his back, before he got to his destination.

A voice in the back of his head told him there was a transport vehicle not too far from here. Time was of the essence, he didn't think such a minor wound would hold the sith off for long and he needed to get to...Padme! A voice inside supplied, but– like knowing where the transport was, or the knife– he didn't know how he knew this only that he did.

The transport finally came into view and Obi-wan's single hand shook on the steering of the speeder. Obi-wan cocked his head slightly to make sure the boy was still there but Anakin seemed to have fallen unconscious again. The speeder slowed to a crawl..

Obi-wan!

"Yes?"

Cut off your braid, now.

When the voice in his head made the suggestion Obi-wan had no compunction about disobeying, especially not when it was being so demanding. Years of training, iron control, and a healthy cocktail of adrenaline, norepinephrine, glucose and oxygen were the only things keeping him alive and moving. So when he intuitively felt in his boot for the small concealed knife he, too, kept there, placed the span of hair in his mouth until it pulled taut and deftly slid the knife through the length braided at the base where it met his scalp he was not surprised at all that the action hadn't killed him.

Thank you, hypothalamic pituitary adrenal axis.

Drunk with pain Obi-wan watched the braided length of hair fall to the ground.

Anakin lay curled up, he was small and had slipped between the seat and the small containment unit of the speeder and was effectively out of sight, which was good, Obi-wan didn't have time to deal with the questions that would surely arise if anyone saw him. It did not bode well that he was unconscious but maybe that was for the best as well. It would keep him from asking questions Obi-wan did not know how to answer.

Tiny white sparks flickered at the edges of his vision as his body finally threatened to faint. His head lolled forward grotesquely and he dropped the knife. His eyes caught something and he tried to keep his focus on the figure suddenly in front of him.

She was no more than a wobbling pinpoint at first, part of him reasoned it couldn't be her. Her common sense, caution and practicality would forbid her from playing into such an obvious ploy, but her figure was unmistakable. He recognized her and the roundness of her belly confirmed his suspicions.

But he didn't need that to recognize her. He had known her since she was fifteen. He was suddenly cold. It was a cold of shock – or possibly fear– that rippled from him like water; the Force bristled from him. He flew the speeder right into the cargo bay of the ship.

"Excuse me, your majesty" he informed Padme as he ungraciously slid to the ground and off the speeder, "I'm about to hurl."

The look she gave him would have been comical if he wasn't busy vomiting his guts out. He lay flat on his back and tried to forget that his entire right side was in agony.

"There's time for that later Master Obi-wan." she reminded him and shouldered his left arm. Most of his weight was on her and he thought, it can't be good for the baby. He could feel the rumble of the engines start and the cargo bay doors close as the pilot droid readied for takeoff.

The last thing he remembered thinking as he finally, and conclusively, collapsed inside the ship was that she wasn't pregnant the last time he saw her– oh, about 14 hours ago– but he didn't think it would be prudent to mention it. From the moment he met him he had suspected Anakin was fast but this was ridiculous.

Padme frowned at the Jedi. When she saw him speeding towards her a little scream of horror escaped her and she thought, he's dead. Obi-wan couldn't bring him back and now he's dead.

A low whine of anguish escaped her and she clamped her lips shut.

And for a fierce, bright and clearly mindless moment she hated Obi-wan Kenobi. Murderer, she thought, he was yours to protect and you killed him!

The feeling was dizzying in its conviction. She was afraid that the bright hot pieces inside her were going to open up and swallow her, gulp her down inside her own special hell so there'd be no more Padme left, just an empty husk.

And in that moment, a dreadful, irrational voice inside her head whispered: Leave him. Why should he live when Anakin does not. Let his precious Force do what it will. Let him die!

No, she thought. how could she even entertain the idea? Her husband was gone– swallowed by the darkness– and she could not let herself follow in his tread. He was dead to her the moment he tried to strangle the life out of her and their child. She supposed she should thank Anakin, he had made it so simple for her. When he had tried to kill their child... it was a fixed moment.

She did not hate him, it was too soon for that ( she might actually never be able to hate him, but she wouldn't think about that now) but her feelings on the matter were resolved. Her child would always come first. It was something she learned the moment she conceived and was presented with the choice of allowing the pregnancy to continue and suffer the consequence of her marriage becoming public or terminating it and continue in conjugal bliss.

When Anakin choked her and she felt her child suffer inside of her-- how he kicked and jerked, fighting--as her body collapsed around him..! It was a simple matter of organizing her priorities. Padme closed her eyes and tried to compose herself. When she opened them again the darkness receded and Padme had a mission to accomplish. If she couldn't save one Jedi, she'd save the other.

She could push everything else far, far away, down deep where even she would have a hard time finding it again. Obi-wan had once told her that a great deal of intelligence could be invested in ignorance, when the need for illusion was deep. She had not understood then, and wondered how Obi-wan Kenobi, the perfect Jedi, could bend truths so easily.

I need to get him to a hospital, she thought resolutely forcefully corralling her mind from wandering. His entire arm from shoulder to fingertips was missing and from his breathing she suspected his right lung was on the verge of collapsing, if it hadn't already. At least he wasn't bleeding out, but his breathing was a problem. She hoped the Jedi had some special Force trick to keep from suffocating.

Padme stared at the injured Jedi and tried to organize her thoughts. There was little she could do for the arm, or lack there of, in terms of first aid, except maybe ward against infection. But there were other things that though unimportant now would prove to be lifesaving later.

The robe had to go, it was in tatters and useless and would only identify him as a Jedi. She went to retrieve her own black robe, it was a bit short for him but it would do for now, she thought as she stripped him of his hood. The fabric fell back and Padme gasped.

Under the dirt, sweat and blood a clean shaven Obi-wan Kenobi lay unconscious before her. He looked so...young. Vulnerable even. Without the beard he was almost a different person, a person she had not seen since Qui-gon Jinn's cremation. He looked almost wild this way, almost innocent, almost defenseless. The blood made him look sharper around the edges, his hair impossibly red, the blood running thin little rivers down his remaining bare arm, sliding down his fingertips and pooling on the floor. She didn't like his sharpness, the asymmetry seemed to bite into her unpleasantly.

"Padme...?" fevered blue-green eyes looked at her. Her breath caught. "I tried to save him. I didn't...couldn't. Not him.

"Rest, Obi-wan. We'll reach a medical center soon."

"Has the Temple really fallen? The...Order?"

Padme nodded but he was gone again, with a shaking hand she ran her fingers through the shorn length of not quite blond, not quite ginger hair. She sat down in shock and placed one hand on her belly. What exactly had happened on Mustafar?

When they neared the medical center, Padme let her eyes grow round with alarm, her voice a painful shriek, and let out all her anger, frustration and fear into a blood curling demand for help. Her voice rose to a high note, cracked and ran back down the scale to end in moaning cries that echoed off the artistically folded aluminum ceiling. It was not hard to pretend she was panicking or that her world was crashing around her.

"My husband!" she cried as she entered the hospital, "He's been wounded!"

Padme hoped this was a good idea. Hiding in plain sight was terrifying, but it was Obi-wan Kenobi's only chance. Coruscant was the closest planet with the type of medical equipment Obi-wan needed, but it was also the most dangerous for Jedi. She hoped, with Kenobi's clean shaven boyish face and her own shorn hair and simple clothes, that no one would recognise them. She was betting everything on the fact that the Empire wouldn't think they were dumb enough to return to the city.

They were now the center of attention of a crowd already suffering from shock and fear from the aftermath of galactic coup and Order 66. Men and women ran to and fro in mass confusion people caught in the crossfire of the Jedi Purge, wounded and bewildered.

Most were civilian workers from the Temple hired to perform the duties that the Jedi were too busy to do themselves. Padme watched as a clone pried a small bleeding girl, no more than six, from the arms of a stricken man. The trooper hit the man with the butt of his weapon, dropping him to his knees, a move that forced him to bring his arms to his face and let go of the child. As blood oozed from his nose the child squealed in terror.

And instantly Padme knew: the child was Jedi and that meant... She looked away.

Padme gave a start when two figures pushed through the crowd toward them. Imperialists. Padme couldn't help the moan that escaped her.

"This looks like a lightsaber wound," one of the men said.

"He was caught between the Jedi crossfire as they fled the city, please he's not breathing, we're just simple trading folk...we– we're loyal to...Emperor Palpatine!"

Finally two medics pushed their way through and the look of heavily pregnant female was enough to keep too many people wondering about her resemblance to a certain senator from Naboo. Her pregnancy was yet a secret and her shorn dark hair cast doubt on any who saw her. The clone troopers backed off as a particularly fearless paramedic stared them down.

"Can't you see this poor man needs medical attention? His wife is frantic, leave these poor people alone. You've had your fill of blood. The Jedi are all dead. Let me do my job." the medic snarled and pushed her way through to Padme. Padme stared at the two red spots of anger high on the medic's cheekbones set against her pale face, and she thought the young woman looked a little like Queen Amidala just now: strong and full of righteous anger.

Padme felt hollow in comparison.

"Carry, on then." the trooper responded waving a disinterested hand in Obi-wan's direction.

Padme felt faint with relief. She watched in agitation, one hand placed protectively over her belly, as the medics carried Obi-wan away to a Bacta-tank and the OR. With any luck they would be out of there within the next couple of hours, though how she had yet to conceive. Where she had yet to apprehend and what they would do once they arrived she had yet to fathom.

She slipped a hand into the folds of her gown and gripped Kenobi's lightsaber tightly trying not to think about the fate of the Jedi child that had been dragged away.

Author's Note

Hello, this is my first Star Wars fic, I have another account here with other unfinished stories, but two things happened: I finally saw episode III (actually that's not entirely true, I watched the end of episode III) and Sphere. There is no end to the plot bunnies when you're double teamed by George Lucas and Carl Sagan.

And then it hit me, what if Obi-wan and little Anakin found the Sphere? It all went down hill from there.

I was also really disappointed with Padme. I mean really? She lost her will to keep on truckin'? That's so dumb, especially when she knew her children were going to be in danger... I mean in episode I, every step of the way she was ruthless in pursuing the safety of her people and she hadn't even given birth to them!

So this is how this story came about, keep in mind I'm not at all well versed in the Star Wars 'verse, and what I do know is either from wikipedia or from other fics I've read here, Any inconsistencies or mispelling of planet names, people, or things is either because I didn't double check my sources or I just plain made it up.

Please review and tell me what you think, it helps with the creative process, so to speak. I really would appreciate it!