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Chapter Thirteen
Maybe it was his survival instinct that made him reach for the narrow ledge. Maybe it was the will of the Force that he should do so. Whatever it was, Anakin extended both arms, grasping in the fading light for the rock face. His fingers dragged against the surface, skin and leather shredding as he tried to stop himself from slipping off the ledge. Anakin cried out as his body came to a halt and impacted on the wall.
He hung there for a moment and listened to the water below. At first, the rhythmic crash of waves seemed to echo the turbulence in his soul, but as the sounds of the sea enveloped him, it took on an almost soothing cadence. It lulled him into numbness, taking him away from his pain, away from the truth.
It would be so easy to let go.
He didn't hear the whisper at first. It rose up from the ocean slowly, closing around him as it had done all those years ago while he stared out at a dead star.
All things die, it said softly, in the same voice he remembered, the same cold, dead voice that had followed him through the years.
Anakin shook his head angrily, ashamed of his fear and weakness. He began to pull himself up onto the ledge. No, he wouldn't give in to the whispers, not yet.
Anakin pressed his back against the cliff wall, clinging to the rock with both hands, one bloodied, the other shining gold through his torn glove. "Ben," he whispered, closing his eyes against the wind. He reached out through the Force, searching for some trace of his grandson, but there was nothing. He remained hidden, cut off by his own choice. Anakin finally understood why.
He could feel the other Jedi above him, tiny pinpricks of light against a black canvas of death and chaos. He had not formed attachments to any of them, at least nothing beyond the common bonds that tied most Jedi together. Surrounded by the dark energy of Vjun and the oppressive hatred that rolled off the Sith in waves, he realized that no one would find him now. No one would even feel his pathetic pleas.
"Ben, please."
As his eyes turned skyward, he noticed another niche in the stone about fifteen meters above him. He might be able to reach it, maybe make his way back up to the roof of the château. Anakin repositioned himself on the ledge and started to climb, keeping his left arm pressed against his side.
It was slow work, climbing with one hand. The sun had already set, and he could barely see the rock in front of him. Anakin paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath; but his head was fuzzy from the blood loss and the Force-rich air. In the distance – or perhaps it wasn't so far away – he could hear the whine of starship engines. The Sith were coming for him.
He started to climb again, but a piece of rock came loose in his hand. Anakin lost his grip and slid down against the cliff wall before landing hard on the ledge below. His momentum nearly sent him over the edge, but Anakin managed to latch onto the rock with his cybernetic arm. The Sith starfighters appeared overhead as he pulled himself onto the ledge and leaned against the face of the cliff.
There wasn't much time for him. Sooner or later, Krayt would find him, or one of those Sith fighters would spot him on the cliff and blast him into oblivion. And if no one found him, he would be stuck in this niche, left to succumb to his wounds. He was too spent to concentrate on healing, too battered in spirit to even try.
All things die, Anakin Skywalker. Even stars burn out.
He didn't have it in him to block out the insidious whisper of his inner demon. The promise of death, a dead-star dragon curled around his heart, patiently waiting for the world to crumble. No matter how strong he became, no matter how firmly he stood in the light, it was always there, reminding him that it would all end.
The loss of Obi-Wan struck him hard in that moment, slashing at him as forcefully as the gusts of wind trying to tear him from the cliff. For one single, irrational second, he tried to reach for his best friend, his brother, the person beside Padmé who he loved most. And in that foolish, delirious second, he had the smallest hope that he would somehow sense Obi-Wan's presence, feel the reassuring touch of his mind telling him that it would be all right. The warmth of his voice as he reminded his former student that there was no one else – Jedi or otherwise – that he would rather have at his side.
That second flashed by, and the faint flicker of hope went out like a spark extinguished instantly in the cold vacuum of space. Obi-Wan was gone. Obi-Wan was dead, and Anakin had killed him, just like he killed—
No. He couldn't allow himself to think it, even though the truth of it swirled around him, a nebulous thing that promised to become tangible if he dared reach for it. He shrank away from it, a child once more, standing next to Obi-Wan as they stared out at a dead star system. Not knowing or understanding what it meant to live in a universe where anything could die – where everything would die.
Even after Obi-Wan had explained to him the finite nature of all existence and why the Jedi didn't form attachments, Anakin still didn't understand. He still couldn't accept it. And when the personification of his fear began to whisper to him, he did his best to drown it out, to prove it wrong by being better, faster, stronger than its promise of death.
All of it – the struggles, the sacrifices, the secrets – it was all in vain.
He imagined now that he was the star at the center of that dead system, finally burning out and collapsing under its own weight, destroying everything around it.
So this is what it feels like to lose everything.
He thought of Ben once more, knowing he'd never reach him. Ben lied to him. He lied, and he left him here to die. Anakin wouldn't argue whether he was justified, because of course he was. Never trust a monster, and when you get the chance, cut it loose.
He became cognizant of a warm glow at the periphery of his awareness, radiant like the suns. He couldn't help drawing to it, cold as he was from the wind whipping up from the sea. And he realized there was one other person here who shared his blood, one other person who might hear him.
The name was barely a whisper on his bruised lips, but he put everything he had left into it.
"Allana…"
.
.
The Daybreak shuddered as another laser blast struck the rear shields. Allana's fingers ached from squeezing the trigger of the dorsal guns, but she couldn't let up now. They were almost through.
Allana…
Pain bled into the Force and into her, and she gasped at the sheer magnitude of it.
"Anakin," she whispered.
His relief, so pure and profound as he found her in the Living Force. She saw him in her mind's eye, clinging to the side of a cliff, battered and bloodied and broken. All around him darkness pressed in, a serpentine shadow held at bay only by the thinnest ray of light.
"Ben," she said in the comm, "I found him!"
He didn't answer her, and the shadows swelled. Taking leave of her senses, Allana jumped out of her seat and sprinted to the cockpit. She reached for Ben, wrapping both hands around one of his arms.
"What the—?" Ben tried to yank his arm out of her grasp.
"Turn around! We have to go back!"
The ship jolted under enemy laser blasts. "Are you crazy?" Ben shouted, tugging his arm away from her. "Get back on those guns!"
"Ben, I know where he is!"
In spite of the chaos all around them and the ever-widening chasm between them, Ben stared into her and she into him, and for the first time in ages they were of one mind.
"Syal," Ben said firmly, "turn the ship around."
The elder Antilles, who had listened to their exchange with almost amused resignation, didn't even try to argue. She pulled back on the controls, and the Daybreak climbed at an impossibly steep angle before flipping over toward the planet's surface. Fighters scrambled out of her path as she barreled toward them at breakneck speed.
"Where?" Syal asked, all business.
Allana's eyes flitted across the ruined château below them. "The cliff over the bay."
"Where are you guys going?" Myri couldn't disguise the shock in her voice.
"We've got one more pickup, sis." Syal glanced over at Ben and blew out a short breath. "You Jedi sure don't like to make things easy, do you?"
Ben didn't answer her. He looked up at Allana and raised both eyebrows. "Guns?" he said, impatience bubbling just under the surface.
Her cheeks reddened as she ran back to her post and flung herself behind the controls.
We're coming, Anakin. Hold on.
.
.
Darth Dominius stared down at the unconscious boy at his feet, lips curled back in a sneer. Weak, pathetic. Too young for the mantle he'd been gifted. Not that it was his place to say so, and he never would, at least not out loud. It was a risk even to think it, although after the day's events, he wouldn't be surprised if his master wanted to kill every last one of them.
Darth Ferrus let out a childlike moan, and Dominius kicked him none too gently in the ribs.
"Wake up, brat."
Ferrus coughed and opened his eyes, glaring up at Dominius with a hatred that was almost impressive. And then he said something so stupid that Dominius nearly felt the urge to laugh:
"Why is everything on fire?"
The elder Sith Lord rolled his eyes and turned to survey the damage. The grand hall was in shambles, and it was indeed on fire. He determined that while the main house might be somewhat intact, it wouldn't be worth it to stay here. He stretched out with his senses and felt a familiar presence on the other side of the mansion. It seemed Doctor Mezzon had managed to survive yet again.
Stone scraped against stone, and Dominius looked over his shoulder to see Darth Festus shoving a great boulder out of his path. He looked positively murderous.
"Where are they?" he growled, his voice horribly strangled. For all his usual facetiousness, Festus was far more terrifying than his twin when he wanted to be.
Dominius gestured toward the demolished roof. "In the skies above." He was about to say more when the incredible weight of his master's presence descended on them.
All were silent under the eyes of Lord Krayt, and they kneeled in unison.
"I have failed you, my master." Dominius felt the iron grip of fear clutching at this throat, but he would accept his punishment.
A long, terrible pause. Then, "Rise, my apprentice."
Dominius stood quickly. The twins remained on their knees.
"Look at me."
Dominius obeyed, staring into the inscrutable masked face of the Sith Master. Darth Krayt sifted through his mind with ease, but his mental invasion lacked the violence he'd come to expect. If he had to identify his master's mood right now, he'd say it was almost contemplative.
The ghost of a smile – so faint and fleeting he might have imagined it – twisted at Darth Krayt's lips. "Bring my shuttle," he said at last.
.
.
This is crazy. This is crazy, and we're all going to die.
Ben obliterated three more fighters as Syal hurtled the Daybreak toward the château and the cliff it was nestled in. His decision to turn back defied all logic, all reason. How insane was it that he could give such a dangerous order and that it would be followed without question?
Focus.
He could hear the Last Call just behind them, picking off the ships on their tail. There were still several enemy fighters hanging in there; and with that Star Destroyer incoming, it wouldn't be long before the Jedi and their allies were heavily outnumbered again.
"Do you see him yet?"
Ben closed his eyes, extending his perception to the cliff. He had seen a brief flash of it when Allana stared him down, had seen Anakin losing his grip against the encroaching night. A deep well of despair, of agony, of heartbreak…
"There!" His eyes flew open as he pointed to a spot on the cliff about thirty meters above the harbor.
Syal swore under her breath and descended. As she toggled the thrusters, she threw a pointed look at Ben. "Go get him."
Ben darted out of the cockpit and ran to the rear of the ship to open the hatch. The Daybreak leveled out, and he strode carefully to the end of the ramp, looping one arm around one of its hydraulic cylinders.
Anakin was barely visible, huddled into a shallow niche that barely fit his body. He was still too far below them. Ben yanked his comlink off his belt.
"Down about five meters, Syal."
"Copy."
Ben held fast to the hydraulic cylinder as the ship dropped below Anakin's perch and hovered. The starfighters were already circling around, engines screaming as they prepared for another pass. Anakin's face appeared over the edge of the precipice; he nodded at Ben and began to lower himself over the side.
The Last Call fired at the incoming fighters, blasting through the leader's engine. The craft spiraled out of control, shooting past the Daybreak and crashing further down along the cliff wall. The rock face shook violently, and Anakin's grip on the ledge started to slip.
"Hold on!" Ben shouted over the sounds of laser fire. Syal kicked the Daybreak away from the wall and turned so that most of the ship's guns were aimed at the enemy fighters. She and Allana fired with pinpoint accuracy, but it didn't stop the onslaught. Ben held his breath as the fighters closed in on them.
There was an explosion of metal and fire; Ben ducked back inside the ship to avoid the debris bouncing off the shields. From the cockpit, he heard Syal utter a loud, whooping battle cry. His comlink, still joined to the ship's comm, crackled to life.
"I'll hold off the rest, Syal… dammit, Skywalker, just grab him already!"
Ben felt relief flood him. He'd never been so happy to hear Tahiri Veila yell at him. He braced himself as the Daybreak once again approached the ledge Anakin was hanging from. Syal tipped the ship toward the sky so that the ramp was open at an angle, ready to catch the battered Jedi. Ben positioned himself under Anakin and met his gaze.
"Ready?" he shouted.
Anakin nodded, wincing.
Then he let go, and Ben realized he was going to tumble right past the edge of the ramp.
He lunged forward, reaching to snatch Anakin out of the air. Their hands met, and Ben's breath left him as he was slammed down against the deck, his shoulder wrenched by Anakin's momentum. He flattened himself out on the ramp, one arm still looped around the hydraulic cylinder while he strained to hold onto his grandfather's hand. Anakin dangled dangerously under the ramp.
The ship bucked, causing Ben to cry out in pain as his shoulder twisted. But he held firm, pulling with every ounce of strength he possessed. Finally, he managed to haul Anakin up onto the ramp.
"I've got him!" he yelled, his comlink forgotten. He tried to drag Anakin further into the ship, but they collapsed onto the deck, a tangle of limbs and blood.
"Anakin!"
Allana was on them in an instant, her slight arms wrapping around Anakin, pulling him against her. There was something painfully childlike in the way he clung to Allana, but Ben didn't have time to reflect on it more. The ship trembled as enemy fire crashed against the shields. Ben rolled over and staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the bulkhead as he ran toward the cockpit.
"There she is," Syal said evenly as he entered the cockpit, indicating the massive wedge-shaped silhouette emerging from the black storm clouds directly above them.
Ben dropped back into the co-pilot's chair, taking over weapons control. "Great. Do we know which one it is?"
"Like it matters?" Syal gritted her teeth and adjusted a few levers as she made a path straight for the Star Destroyer. "Got any more crazy ideas you'd like to throw at me?"
Tahiri's voice crackled over the comm. "I have one."
"This'll be good," Myri interjected, without a trace of sarcasm.
Syal ignored her sister's excited comment. "What are you thinking, Tahiri?"
"Form up behind me," Tahiri ordered. "We're about to get real friendly with that Star Destroyer."
Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Syal grin. "You read my mind," she said.
"Wait a minute." There was a spark of mischief in Myri's voice. "Did she really?"
Ben could practically feel Tahiri rolling her eyes. He allowed himself a small smirk at the thought of it.
Syal shook her head and let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Cut the chatter, sis. Time to play follow the leader."
.
.
After spending so long in the dimly-lit château and then the twilight of Vjun, the bright interior lights of the Daybreak stabbed at Anakin's eyes. He shut them tight, allowing Allana to guide him through the ship's curving corridors. Her presence was a gentler light in the Force, one that he could bask in even as he felt himself crumbling to pieces.
"Elias!" she called out, a trace of panic in her voice. Seconds later, Anakin sensed someone jogging toward them, and he cracked one eye open to see Ben's friend reaching for him.
"Here, let me help you," Elias said as he pulled Anakin's right arm over his shoulder and lifted him off of Allana. "Get the med kit, hurry."
Allana ran off to retrieve the kit, and Anakin swayed a little as that warmth went with her. How pathetic was he? The only thing keeping him from completely falling apart was the presence of one young girl. Had he never been able to handle the darkness on his own? Had he always relied so heavily on others to keep him in check, to ground him? His mother, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Padmé, Allana… what was he without their light?
You know who you are, a cold, deep voice rumbled in his head. He thought it might somehow be his own. You know exactly who you are without them.
Traitor. Murderer. Monster. Sith.
Vader.
"It's gonna be all right, just sit here." Elias had led him into the crew's quarters, a long, narrow room with two sets of double bunks. He lowered Anakin onto one of the bottom bunks and gently lifted his shirt to examine the wound in his side. Anakin sucked in a sharp breath as his tunic peeled away from the jagged and burnt flesh.
"Sorry," Elias muttered, lowering the shirt. Allana ran in then with the med kit, and Anakin allowed the two of them to tend to his injuries. Every few seconds, the ship would jolt from laser fire or from whatever death-defying acrobatics the pilot was attempting. He couldn't even remember who was flying the ship. He wasn't sure it mattered if he did.
"Can you finish?" Elias said after he'd wrapped Anakin's torso and bandaged the back of his head. He held the med kit out to Allana. "I need to get back to Kohr."
"Of course." Allana took the supplies and glanced down at Anakin.
"It's just his leg and hand left to do."
Allana gave Elias a tight smile. "I'm on it. Go ahead."
When they were alone again, Allana pulled several antiseptic wipes from the kit and unrolled a long piece of gauze. She kneeled in front of Anakin and set to work cleaning the deep gash in his right thigh.
Anakin…
The voice crept softly into his mind, curling up at the base of his skull as if it belonged there.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head to get Krayt out of it.
We can save them all, together.
He didn't know which "them" the voice was referring to – the loved ones he'd lost or the family he'd found – and right now he didn't care. All he knew was he wanted it and every other voice to leave him the hell alone.
Join me…
Anakin tumbled off the bunk and staggered toward the door, steeling himself against the burning pain that shot through his abdomen.
"Wait!" Allana cried out. "I'm not done yet!"
He kept moving, into the curved corridor now. Allana came after him, fingers grasping at his tunic. The ship trembled violently, knocking Allana away from him into the bulkhead. She pulled herself up and reached out to him. "You need to lie down!"
Anakin ignored her, moving with halting steps toward the open cockpit.
.
.
The Star Destroyer loomed large in their viewport as the Daybreak accelerated toward it, following tight on the trail of Tahiri's X-wing. The Last Call fell into formation with them, so close Ben could see Myri in the cockpit. If they could evade those massive turbolasers long enough, they might have a shot of escaping in one piece.
"Artoo," he said into the comm. "Increase power to the shields."
The droid screamed back something about working at his maximum capacity just to maintain hull integrity. It was a little hard to make out, he was wailing so loud.
"Okay, fine, never mind!" Ben winced as he switched off the comm. "Emperor's bones."
Laser blasts sizzled past them, their green energy lighting up the inside of the cockpit. Most of the Sith starfighters had peeled away, but Ben continued to fire at the ones daring enough to keep pace with them. Then Tahiri angled sharply upward, nearly scraping against the hull of the Star Destroyer; the Antilles sisters followed without hesitation.
Ben relaxed his grip on the main cannon trigger as the Daybreak skimmed the surface of the capital ship. It was all up to Syal's piloting skills now. They raced along the hull, swerving here and there to avoid enemy fire. Ben had flown with countless amazing pilots, some Jedi, some not. Syal Antilles was easily one of the best.
They still had about two-thirds of the Star Destroyer's length left to go before they could break for open space. The shields were holding, but only just. A couple more direct hits, and it'd all be over.
A chill raced up his spine just then, like he'd stepped into the mist of an icy waterfall. He stared down at the Star Destroyer and knew beyond certainty that Darth Krayt was close, possibly already on the ship below. Then he felt something else, eyes boring into the back of his skull.
Ben glanced behind him and saw Anakin's battered figure appear in the doorway. His grandfather clutched the metal frame with his right hand while holding his left arm close to him. As Ben examined the other man, he realized Anakin was looking right at him, his eyes gaping maws of desolation. There was accusation in that stare, too, laser-sharp and unrelenting. Even though fire exploded all around them, Ben couldn't look away. They stared at each other for an interminably long moment, and Ben's breath caught in his throat as he tried to quell the panic rising up in him.
He knew.
Finally, Anakin's dark gaze shifted, eyes landing on something beyond Ben, beyond the Daybreak. Free from his grandfather's stare, Ben turned around and faced the viewport. The sensation of icy mist intensified, becoming a frigid deluge that threatened to drown him. He grabbed the controls, ready to blast any part of the Star Destroyer below them if it would stop the overwhelming, penetrating cold.
Even though he had already tamped down his own presence to be completely undetectable, Ben tried to make himself smaller still, knowing deep down that no matter how well he managed to hide in the Force, there was one person who would eventually find him.
.
.
Darth Krayt stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Eradicator, watching with interest as three vessels skimmed the surface of his ship, evading both its turbolasers and its smaller, more numerous turrets. Around him he could hear Eradicator's crew working furiously to scramble additional fighters, to change their course, anything to shake the Jedi out into the open where they could blast them to pieces.
They needn't have worried. He wasn't in a killing mood today. Not that he would let them know that.
There was a reason he hadn't used his formidable battle meditation to unite his forces as one. Several reasons, actually; and they were all on board the black YT-series freighter flying in formation behind that Jedi X-wing. If he wanted them dead, they would be.
There was one person on that ship he longed to reach for… but no, it was too soon. There would be time for that later, he told himself. Instead, he stretched out with his feelings, searching the ship. Anakin had already tried – and failed – to resist his intrusion. They all tried to resist. They all inevitably failed.
Except one.
The Master of the Sith smiled. If he didn't have Lord Dominius's sworn word that Ben Skywalker was on that ship, he would never have known the young Jedi Knight was there. He had grown quite skilled at his disappearing act, much more adept than he'd been on Ziost. It was a far cry from the boy he'd once known, whose mental shielding was perfectly adequate but hardly powerful. He felt a glimmer of something resembling pride.
He might not be able to sense Ben, but that didn't mean he couldn't reach him. He, too, was a master of becoming small in the Force, so small as to vanish completely. It was his default these days, giving him the upper hand with enemies and followers alike and keeping his apprentices on their toes. It was what had allowed him to ambush the original Darth Krayt while the old man was in stasis, killing both him and his protector, Darth Wyyrlok.
Now, however, he allowed his presence to expand outward, filling every corner of the ship with his power.
Ben…
The Jedi and their allies shot past the bridge, a whole squadron of fighters screaming after them. Krayt turned to track their movement and imagined his presence closing in around them, encircling Ben's ship in his embrace. Two of the pursuing fighters – lacking the skill and daring of the enemy pilots – collided with a pair of defense towers, exploding in a brilliant, colorful blaze against the Star Destroyer's shields. A murmur of fear rippled through the crewpits on either side of Krayt as their quarry broke for open space.
The three ships sped away, blasting his fighters to dust as they angled sharply upward and disappeared above the dark clouds of Vjun. A few fighters followed after them in vain. In a moment, the Jedi would be in hyperspace. Untraceable.
Krayt smiled again. Despite the damage done to Doctor Mezzon's fortress, the day had gone quite well. He hoped the crew and his Lords would appreciate his good mood.
Far above the Eradicator, he sensed the bending and warping of realspace as the Jedi freighter made the jump to hyperspace, taking the last remnants of Jacen Solo's family with it.
.
.
"Ben."
He hears the voice through a haze of pain so thick he can barely muster the energy to decipher the word. It tumbles around in his brain, losing all meaning as it ricochets and repeats, benbenbenbenben…
Ben.
Ben. The word means… him. His name.
He opens his eyes to find a pair of brown ones staring back at him.
"I'm glad you're awake. I was worried about you." The voice is gentle. Patient. Loving. The pain digs down deeper. His back arches, fingers splaying wildly as he fights to get free.
No, that's wrong. He isn't fighting anything. Only reacting to the pain.
He shuts his eyes to ward off the voice and the pain and the face of his tormentor.
"Ben, look at me. Ben."
"Ben?"
He opened his eyes quickly and sat frozen in his chair as he counted to ten and remembered where he was. Starlines streaked past the cockpit; his hands were wrapped around a set of controls. He turned his head to the left only to find Syal Antilles looking back at him.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a quiet voice.
He exhaled slowly, trying not to shake. "Yeah. I'm okay."
"We're away. On route to the enclave."
Ben shook his head and stood up. "Take us off course. We can't continue on until we know for sure we're not being tracked."
Syal looked like she might argue, but she nodded and pulled up the navicomputer. "I didn't detect any homing beacons. You know what you're looking for?"
"Not exactly, but I know where to look."
He turned and exited the cockpit, fighting down the panic that was still lingering in his system. It had been so long since he'd had an episode like that during waking hours; he didn't have to wonder what had triggered it, but it still took him by surprise. As he walked swiftly down the corridor toward the cargo bay, he reached out to run his fingers along the curved walls. There was something about the cool, hard metal that helped him bring his focus fully to the here and now.
He ducked into the cargo hold where the younglings and the rest of Ben's crew, save for Allana and Anakin, were waiting. Elias and Ames were tending to a still-unconscious Kohr, while Valin distributed food, water, and blankets to the children. Ben approached the former, his gut lurching a little at the sight of Kohr's bloody bandages.
"How is he?" he said. Ames was applying pressure while Elias wrapped fresh gauze around the boy's head.
"He'll be all right as long as we can get to a healer or a medic soon, I think." Elias wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist, then frowned at the sound of the hyperdrive disengaging. "Have we stopped?"
Ben nodded. "Just changing course until we can verify we're not being followed."
"You think we are?"
"It wouldn't surprise me. Everything about our escape… it was too easy."
Ames glared up at him, his hands still on Kohr's wound. "You call that easy?"
Ben ignored him and stalked across the room. "We can't go back until we know for sure those kids aren't being traced. Everything needs to be checked."
Elias tied off Kohr's bandage and said a few hushed words to Ames before standing up. "Where do you want me?"
Ben looked around the cargo hold. Some of the younglings were asleep, but the rest were staring back at him with frightened faces. Dirty, gaunt, in some cases bruised. How must he appear to them now?
"Start over there," he said a little more gently, pointing toward what looked like the youngest group of survivors. "Valin, keep doing what you're doing. I'll take this side."
He moved toward the cluster of children opposite Elias and kneeled down next to them. "It's all right. You're safe now. We're going to take you somewhere the Sith will never find you again." He looked into each set of eyes. "Do you understand?"
The younglings nodded slowly. They didn't look like they believed him entirely, but that didn't mean they wouldn't trust him.
"Okay," he said. "My name is Ben. I'm looking for a tracking device. The Sith might have planted it on your clothing or even under your skin." The children cringed and exchanged terrified glances. "I know it sounds scary, but if they tagged you, we need to know so we can get rid of it and get away from the Sith."
The children – four of them, all human – stared at him silently. Ben sighed.
"Were any of you tagged?"
One little girl with curly, black hair shook her head slowly. The rest were motionless. This was going to take forever; in the meantime, the Sith could be zeroing in on their location.
"Ben." Elias's voice came from across the hold. "Over here."
Ben turned away from the children and met Elias's eyes. He was crouched over a young girl, no more than eight or nine years old, who had fallen asleep against one of the storage containers. Elias swept aside several long strands of dirty brown hair to reveal the child's neck. Around it was a silver necklace, tarnished and with several knots in the chain. Ben crossed the hold, careful not to step on any of the other children who had collapsed on the deck in exhaustion. He kneeleddown next to Elias and examined the oval pendant on the chain.
"Dammit," he muttered so that only Elias could hear. Ben pulled the necklace over the girl's head, taking care not to wake her. He handed it to his friend. "Look."
Elias held the pendant up and examined it closely. He frowned. "A tracking device."
Ben retrieved the necklace and nodded stiffly. "Yep. See this groove around the edge of the pendant, where the two silver pieces were soldered together? It's been taken apart and repaired." Ben placed the pendant on the deck and stood up. He positioned his heel over the pendant, steadied himself for a second, and then crushed the oval under his boot. "There," he said, staring at the shattered remains of the child's necklace. "That should keep them off our trail for a while."
Elias swept up the pieces, eyeing them sadly. "Poor kid."
Ben patted his friend on the shoulder and turned away. "Time to get this ship back on course." He stood and pressed a button on the hold's wall comm. "Syal, we're all clear. Take us to the enclave."
Elias nodded toward the door. "You heading back to the cockpit?"
Ben shook his head. "Got something else to take care of first." He left his crew to care for Kohr and the children. With Syal flying the ship, that meant that Allana had probably taken it upon herself to tend to Anakin's wounds. His grandfather had allowed her to pull him away from the cockpit once they went into lightspeed – good thing, too, because Ben wasn't sure he could have had Anakin in there for much longer.
He couldn't avoid him any longer, though. Not if he wanted to keep him from falling into that dark place that was so fond of producing monsters.
As he approached the crew's quarters, one of the doors opened, and Allana slipped out. She looked exhausted, and Ben couldn't blame her. Vjun was more than she'd ever had to handle, both physically and emotionally.
"How are you holding up?" he said, trying to muster up a small smile.
Allana shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing fatal. Anakin's pretty banged up, though."
Ben looked over her shoulder. "Is he in there?"
"Yeah. Elias helped me bandage him up real quick, but he needs rest and probably a healer." Suddenly she looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
"I need to talk to him."
Allana cocked her head to one side. "Can't it wait? I told you he needs to rest."
Ben jerked his head in the direction of the cargo hold. "Why don't you give the others a hand with the kids?"
She glared at him just a little as she gave him a mock salute. "Yes, Master."
Once she was out of sight, Ben opened the door to the men's quarters. There were four bunks, two on each side of the room, with a long, narrow table in the common area between them. Anakin was lying on the lower bunk along the left wall, his back to the rest of the room. His clothes were torn in several places, and Ben could see bandages peeking out from under them. The biggest one seemed to wrap around his entire abdomen, although it was impossible from this position to tell where the actual wound was. There had been a lot of blood on the ramp after he'd pulled Anakin aboard. There had been a lot of blood everywhere today, it seemed. Amazing how even when their weapons cauterized wounds, the Sith and the Jedi still found ways to make each other bleed.
The smallest of coughs from the lower left bunk let Ben know Anakin was awake. He waited for a minute, not knowing how to start this conversation, hoping that maybe his grandfather would make the first move. Dreading either scenario. After another minute of complete silence, Ben finally relented.
"I'm sure you have a lot you want to say to me," he said carefully, trying not to rush the words. His first statement was met with silence, so he tried another. "I know you're angry that I didn't tell you the whole truth."
Anakin didn't move. He hardly even seemed to be breathing. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe neither one of them was ready.
"Listen, I'm not going to stand here all day. If you don't want to talk to me, I'll go."
Ben had his finger on the keypad when Anakin spoke.
"Were you hoping I would kill him?"
The question hung in the air between them, hard and accusing. Ben wasn't sure how he should answer – the truth was more complicated than any quick explanation he might give. He turned around, watching the back of Anakin's head. "I didn't know he'd be there," he said. And it was true, although maybe he should have known better, should have known Anakin's presence in this time would not have gone unnoticed by the Master of the Sith.
But he hadn't really answered Anakin's question, so he continued. "I would never have wanted you to fight him alone. I didn't want you to fight him at all."
More silence. Then there was the soft rustle of fabric as Anakin rolled over and slowly pulled himself to his feet. He still held his left arm close to his body, probably to brace himself against the pain. There were other injuries Ben hadn't had time to notice before. Bruises around both his eyes and along the left side of his face. A bandage wrapped around his right thigh. The skin of his left hand red and raw. The exposed gold metal visible through his torn leather glove – while not an injury – was a bit startling. He'd assumed it was a prosthesis, but he hadn't realized it wouldn't be nearly as advanced as the ones he was used to seeing. All in all, his grandfather was a mess.
No, it was more than that. He looked as though he'd been shattered.
They stared at each other for a moment before Anakin took a step toward the table and gripped the back of a chair with his right hand. And then he looked straight into Ben's soul and asked the one question Ben had hoped never to answer:
"Is it true about Padmé?"
Ben froze. There wasn't any way he could explain it, was there? Not without destroying his grandfather.
"Is it true?" Anakin repeated. Even through the anguish in his voice, Ben could hear that tone of command, one that compelled the listener to bend to the speaker's will.
For one second, Ben felt a powerful urge to put Anakin in his place, show him that there were more important things than his own pain. The feeling passed, leaving only grim resignation and the slimy chill that meant he'd just brushed the darkness.
There was only one way he could tell Anakin the truth.
"Sit down," Ben said quietly. When Anakin didn't move, Ben turned to face him fully, his eyes narrowed. "If you want the truth, then sit down."
Anakin dropped into the chair at the end of the table and leaned forward apprehensively. Gone was the edgy darkness that had stained his presence up until now. As Ben reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, the only thing that clouded around Anakin was fear, pure and unadulterated.
Ben removed a small holoproj from his jacket and placed it on the table in front of Anakin. He pressed a button, and a narrow blue beam emerged above the device. Anakin shifted in his seat before going completely still.
Two miniature figures appeared in the hologram, a man and a woman. As the image focused, Ben heard Anakin gasp. They were looking at smaller versions of Anakin – of Darth Vader – and his wife, Padmé Amidala.
"—I have brought peace to the Republic," Vader was saying. "I am more powerful than the Chancellor; I can overthrow him. And together you and I can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be!"
As Vader finished his impassioned speech, Padmé took a step back and shook her head. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. Obi-Wan was right! You've changed."
Vader's expression darkened. "I don't want to hear anymore about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don't you turn against me!"
In his seat, Anakin raised a hand to cover his mouth, shaking his head as he stared unblinking at his holographic counterpart.
"I don't know you anymore!" Padmé's tears weren't clearly visible in the recording, but Ben could tell from her voice that she'd begun to cry. "Anakin… you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow."
Vader's tone was colder, more distant than before. "Because of Obi-Wan?"
"Because of what you've done! What you plan to do!"
Vader's eyes left Padmé, clouding angrily as he looked over her head at something beyond the projector field.
"Stop! Stop now, come back!" Padmé reached for her husband. "I love you!"
As it always did at this moment, Ben's stomach twisted in a tight, icy knot as his grandfather turned on his grandmother and roared, "LIAR!"
Padmé glanced behind her, eyes widening in shock. "No!"
"You're with him!"
"No," Anakin moaned, hand falling away from his mouth. He watched in horror as Vader raised his hand and began to squeeze his fingertips together.
"You brought him here to kill me!"
Padmé's hands flew to her throat, choking out a desperate, "No!"
Ben had viewed this scene so many times, he'd lost track. He'd wanted to understand how it could have happened, why it had to happen like this. What drove someone to try to kill the people they loved most? Was it the same thing that had driven Jacen?
What would drive Ben to kill like that, and how many people would he destroy in the end?
"Let her go, Anakin!" Despite the age of the recording, Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice rang out clear.
Padmé gasped for air and whispered something the recorder hadn't picked up. Anakin rose from his seat and reached for the image.
"Padmé…" His fingers stretched toward her, as if hoping he could release the hold on her throat.
Obi-Wan's voice again, hard as durasteel: "Let. Her. Go."
Padmé fell away, disappearing from the projector field.
"NO!" The device flew off of the table and smashed into the far wall, erasing the hologram completely.
Anakin's chest heaved as he took several loud, ragged breaths, staring at the spot where the hologram had been. Then he fell back into his seat, tears in his eyes.
Ben waited, because he knew what Anakin would say next. He knew because it was the way people always reacted when someone close to them committed a heinous crime. It was the way he had reacted when Jaina revealed the full extent of her brother's dark deeds.
Anakin would swear that it couldn't really be him. He would deny it and rationalize by saying he would never hurt her. He would try to convince Ben that he was not the man in that recording. And then he would break down as he realized the horrible, soul-crushing truth.
But Anakin didn't say anything. He took another shuddering breath, put his head in his hands, and wept.