Star Wars: Episode I - The Chosen One/First Edition

Prologue: The Tragedy
The patter of rain was all that could be heard within the ancient Sith academy of Dathomir. Located on the edge of a deep and vast canyon containing rivers and deep, dark forests, the academy grounds were a graveyard of members of the Brotherhood of Darkness that had died defending their empire during the New Sith Wars, and of those that had failed their tests of strength before the war even broke out. Rotting skeletons still laid within the dark forests around the academy, serving as a stark reminder of the consequences of failure.

By Human standards, Dathomir was normally a temperate and beautiful planet, but the rain storm that had lasted for days on end disrupted that norm. The world had a diverse terrain that included coastal lakes, thick forests, snow-capped mountains, raging rivers and broad savannas. There were even small icecaps and rift valleys throughout the world. Even with of that beauty and wonder, nearly ninety percent of the world remained unexplored. It was for that reason that Darth Bane chose to use Dathomir as one of his training grounds when he first created the Rule of Two and the Order of Sith Lords.

Darth Plagueis contained that tradition as the Dark Lord of the Sith. He had seen many atrocities and failures in his life time, so many would have assumed that he would be used to the darkness and bleakness of Sith academies and temples. That could not have been further from the truth. Even before he became the Dark Lord of the Sith, Plagueis greatly appreciated beauty. In fact, his favorite time of day was when he would be able to catch the first glimpse of the moonlight reflecting off of the distant lakes and rivers.

Even with the normal beauty of the world, the Dark Side surged with power. He had heard an ancient legend about a rogue Jedi Knight named Allya who was banished to Dathomir by the Jedi Council. She took many of her followers with her and forged a friendship with the few settlers that were on the world. She taught them the ways of the Force, and later she taught the ways of the Force to her own children. Centuries later, Allya was credited with transforming the settler society into one led by the women who held the men as their slaves. Despite the numerous other legends about her, the end result was always the same. The society dominated by Force-using women became known as the Witches of Dathomir and their story was used to frighten children around a fire.

Plagueis had encountered those who he believed to be the Witches of Dathomir, but there was an unspoken understanding between them and the Sith where they agreed to leave each other alone. It had worked out for many years, and Plagueis had continued that. Though he would have enjoyed having numerous seductive women under his command, the doctrine of Bane clearly forbid more than two Sith. There could only be one master and one apprentice; one to embody power and the other to crave it.

Plagueis sat alone within his chambers on his bed. He was deep within meditation, reflecting on the past as he knew that it would be the last time he would be able to do so. He had lived for nearly four thousand years, but it felt as if he had accomplished next to nothing. Even so, it amazed him how far he had come and how much he had changed. To begin one’s life as a Jedi and to finish it off as one of the most powerful Dark Lords of the Sith in history was truly a rarity.

Though he had the powers of immortality, he knew that his apprentice was prepared to strike him down. Plagueis did not fear losing his power, despite what his apprentice thought, and welcomed death. There was no mystery in it for him anymore and there was nothing more he could accomplish in life. His task was finished and his apprentice held the knowledge that Plagueis was immortal. Even so, it would take great power for his apprentice to discover the secret, as well as the other secrets that Plagueis did not share with him.

At first, Plagueis wondered why he would give up his immortal life. He had fought so hard for it and lost so much. His lover had come to him with a vision of her own death, and her visions had always come true. Plagueis swore that he would find a way to stop those he cared about from dying, and after weeks he was able to. However, he discovered the secrets too late. One of his greatest friends betrayed him and his lover was killed. It was on that day that he began to walk the dark path, though he did not know it at first.

He always assumed that he would have died in battle. The great wars that he fought in always prepared him for that. He defended territories, defended the right to exist and defended the love that the son of another of his greatest friends held for the woman of a ruthless tyrant in the Unknown Regions. Even with all of that, he would die in his sleep, but he would have the last laugh.

Hours later, Plagueis slipped into the realm of sleep. Darth Sidious, the Dark Lord’s heir, prepared to make his move. Darkness crept across the marble floor and thunder could be heard outside the academy. Though night had fallen, something darker than the night’s shadows raced through the dimly lit halls. Not even a whisper escaped the heir to the Dark Lord as he made his way to his master’s chambers.

At long last, Sidious stood above his master’s bed as he slept. All remained silent and dark until a crimson blade of pure energy hummed to life. However, the light that it created lasted only an instant. In a flash, the blade pierced the heart of the Dark Lord as Sidious thrust it into his chest. Like a hot poker through the snow, it slid into the flesh of his self-proclaimed father.

In the beginning, it was as if Plagueis felt no pain. No desire caught his sadistic pursuits. However, the absence was not eternal and with a shocking scream his body lurched upright. Plagueis’ cruel eyes peeled open as his face began to turn a shade much like crimson blood. Clawed hands reached up to savage his killer and demonic hisses echoed throughout his halls. Plagueis had to keep up the disguise of feeling betrayed, despite the fact that he knew what was to come.

“You’ve become weak, my master,” Sidious said as he clutched his mentor tightly, bringing his own face within an inch of Plagueis’. “In some ways, I envy you. You will find that which I will not taste until my own death. Peace, old man.”

As Plagueis’ life-force left him, he knew that he would have the last laugh in the end and that Sidious would realize that he made a mistake. Within hours, Sidious would question whether or not he should have snuck up on his master. He would feel ashamed that he did not meet him in combat face-to-face. It would, without a doubt, make him feel as if he were a coward.

However, those emotions had not entered Sidious’ mind yet. The new Dark Lord of the Sith watched intently while his master welcomed the chilling embrace of death. It would be Darth Sidious’ duty to carry on the traditions of Darth Bane and, perhaps someday, overthrow the Jedi Order and avenge the lives of all those who had died at their hands. Sidious vowed to end their lives and not give up until he had done so. With that promise, he watched as the final spark of life left the eyes of his master.

“Until we meet again,” Sidious whispered into the night as he offered one final parting blow to his dead master’s corpse.

Chapter 1: Elusive Feelings
The small frame of the Radiant VII soared through space, its destination of Utapau directly in front of it. The Consular-class space cruiser had been painted red so potential enemies would know that it held diplomatic immunity from the Galactic Senate. The cruiser had a large salon pod attached to it to be used as a secure meeting area for representatives and leaders, and in emergency situations it had the ability to eject from the ship. That detached pod had its own sensors, life support and weapons systems to protect the diplomats that were on board it. Even though the ship was one of great importance, its size would not have been an indicator of it. The cruiser was only big enough to hold eight crew members and sixteen passengers, far less than many other cruisers of great diplomatic importance. Because of this, a great deal of the ship was attended to by droid crew members that did not require eating facilities or sleeping quarters. Many of the droids also served as body guards, and half of the sentient crew also served as guards. As the vessel approached Utapau, a great deal of the planet’s beauty was blocked off by the hulking masses of the Trade Federation Lucrehulk-class battleships. The battleships were nearly three kilometers in diameter overall and were shaped like flattened disks. In the middle of the disk, there was a sphere that held the vessel’s bridge and reactor core. The disk itself was broken in the front to make room for entrances to two enormous docking bays. Though the vessels were normally used for cargo, the power that they housed was immense. It would have taken a large fleet of starfighters to take one down. In the cockpit of the Radiant VII was Captain Maoi Madakor and her co-pilot, Lieutenant Antidar Williams. Behind them stood an older Jedi Master and his younger companion, a Jedi Knight. The Republic crew knew very little about the situation that had developed. What they did know, however, was that the Neimoidian Trade Federation was outraged by the prohibition of slave labor in outlying systems and had used their battlecruisers to create a large blockade around the peaceful world. Because the knights of the Jedi Order were the guardians of peace and justice in the Galactic Republic, Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum had dispatched the two Jedi in hopes of resolving the conflict. The rhetoric of the Galactic Senate had done nothing to help the situation other than drown out the cries for help, so it was understandable to the Republic crew that Chancellor Valorum would ask Jedi to serve as ambassadors. “Captain,” the elder Jedi Master said, “tell them we wish to come board immediately. Then contact Chancellor Valorum and tell them that we’ve arrived.” Madakor nodded and within a matter of minutes she received the confirmation signal from the bridge of the lead Trade Federation vessel. She shared her co-pilots thoughts about dealing with a group as ruthless as the federation, and she could only assume that their Jedi passengers felt the same sense of disgust. The rumors about the slave camps and punishment tactics of the Neimoidians appalled most within the Republic, but some people, both within and outside the Republic, turned a blind eye to it. The Trade Federation was a shipping corporation and cartel. It had made deals with numerous technological and manufacturing plants within its sector of the galaxy to build up its own battle droid army. Because of the army, the federation managed to maintain a corporate monopoly over many trade routes and gained a great deal of influence in the Republic because of this. With that influence, they were able to buy a seat in the Galactic Senate. Senator Lott Dodd of the federation was the only member of the senate that did not represent a world, but rather a massive corporation. Originally, the federation was controlled by a directorate, with a viceroy at the center of it. Neimoidians had always been very influential on the directorate, though by the time of the Utapau crisis they had not had a monopoly for very long. They only gained the monopoly due to the murder of six other members of the directorate were murdered, leaving only Viceroy Nute Gunray alive. From there, he appointed his own puppets such as supposedly trusted right arm Ruune Haako to the directorate. The Trade Federation was outraged at the prohibition of slave labor in the outlying worlds, hence the blockade of Utapau. The blockade was meant to be seen as an example to the Galactic Senate and other worlds, but after a month many believed it had little chance of succeeding. Many of the member species of the federation had pulled out of the alliance, as they believed the blockade would lead to the downfall of the federation. To some, that was only a pleasant hope for the future. After a few minutes of docking procedures, the Radiant VII entered the small gap that led to the docking bay. The larger vessel’s tractor beam took hold and guided the cruiser into the bay where the magnetic clamps locked the vessel into place. Not wasting any time, the two hooded Jedi made their way through the bowels of the Republic cruiser towards the main hatch. When the light turned green, the guard at the door released the locking mechanism and lowered the ramp. At that point, the Jedi stepped out into the bright light, which proved to be ironic considering the situation they were in. At the bottom of the ramp, a silver protocol droid stood waiting for them. The two Jedi looked at each other with grins, as they both found it somewhat surprising that such a sophisticated droid would be used by the Neimoidians. The Trade Federation was never known to favor elegance or beauty, and protocol droids had a great deal of both, but rather they were known to favor simple droids such as their lethal B-1 battle droid series. Knowing how arrogant the Neimoidians were towards the language of Galactic Basic, the elder Jedi Master pulled out a translation device so they would be able to understand what the droid had to say. “I am TC-14 at your service,” the silver droid said in Neimoidian before motioning towards the large door that led into the halls. “This way, please.” As they moved towards the hall, the two Jedi made sure that they paid close attention to their surroundings. The docking bay was sparsely populated with actual life, but it was greatly populated with many forms of droid technologies. B-1s roamed the bay, guarding whatever their masters felt was necessary to guard. A few droid starfighters also rested overhead, though there were not as many as the Jedi had expected. The docking bay itself was a mesh of silver and gray, though they could not see the entire bay as it curved around and seemingly spanned the entire outer portion of the vessel. Considering the forces that the Trade Federation had amassed, that did not surprise the Jedi in the least. The halls of the docking bay were very similar in appearance to the docking bay. The separations between the white, silver and gray pieces of metal plating were clearly evident. The nuts and bolts of the vessel were visible, which did not surprise the Jedi as it was common knowledge that the federation was not known to spend a fortune on anything. Circuits and computer consoles also lined the walls, and bright white lights hung from the ceilings. When the Jedi followed the droid into the empty conference room, the Jedi recognized how similar it was in design to the rest of the vessel. Most vessels kept the same design for every hall, bay and room for continuity purposes, but the federation did not even seem to go anywhere remotely out of its way to put some sort of variety into different parts of their ship. Though it wouldn’t have meant anything to any normal person, it was able to tell the Jedi one very important thing: the Neimoidians did not like change and they would not bend over backwards to make even the slightest change. “I hope your honored sirs will be comfortable here,” the droid told them in Neimoidian. “My masters will be with you shortly.” The droid turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind it. When they were certain that there was no one else in the room, the Jedi removed their hoods to reveal the faces of the elder Jedi Master Jard Dooku and his Jedi Knight companion, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Dooku was the taller of the two and he was at least in his late sixties and perhaps early seventies. Obi-Wan, however, did not look to be a day over thirty standard years old. Though they both had beards, Obi-Wan’s golden-brown hair had grown out longer while Dooku’s was nearly white and combed back in a dignified fashion. Obi-Wan continued to look around the room to make sure that they were not being watched in any way. Since the Radiant VII had dropped out of hyperspace nearly a half hour earlier, something had not felt right to him. Something in the very near future did not feel right to Obi-Wan, as if the future held some sort of phantom menace that no one could stop. Though he knew he would be chided for doing so, Obi-Wan could not help but raise his concerns to his superior. “I have a bad feeling about this,” Obi-Wan said. “I sense nothing,” Dooku told him coldly and without hesitation, leading Obi-Wan to believe that Dooku had not even tried to see the situation from the Jedi Knight’s point of view. “It’s not about the mission,” Obi-Wan continued. “It’s something...something elsewhere. Something elusive.” “You’re centering on your anxieties again,” Dooku scolded. “Keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.” “Perhaps if you had taught me to be mindful of the Living Force when I was your apprentice,” Obi-Wan shot back, “I wouldn’t have to focus on my so-called anxieties.” “Know your place, Obi-Wan,” Dooku said coldly. Obi-Wan wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew that it would only worsen the situation between the two of them. As the two Jedi awkwardly walked side by side to the view port where the maze of battleships and the lush, green and blue sphere of Utapau hung against the heavens, Obi-Wan could not help but think about the tense relationship he always had Dooku when their relationship was that of a master and an apprentice.

Obi-Wan remembered nothing about his life before the age of five standard years. The Jedi Archives indicated that he had been born on Dantooine to two young settlers. What he did remember was training under Jedi Master Yoda alongside many other padawans of his age such as one of his good friends, Quinlan Vos. When he was thirteen years old, he fell in love with fellow padawans Siri Tachi, but nothing was able to come of their forbidden relationship as Siri and her master were transferred to the School of Hidden Wisdom on Baltimn. After she left, Obi-Wan continued his pre-apprentice studies with notable masters such as Cin Drallig, one of the greatest lightsaber duelists of all time. His abilities with the Force and the blade made him somewhat arrogant, but under Yoda’s guidance he was able to become more humble and reserved.

Despite his power and potential, when Obi-Wan neared the age of thirteen standard years, it had appeared that he had little chance of becoming a Jedi Knight, as younglings who were not selected by a master to be trained by the age of thirteen were assigned to the Jedi Service Corps. One afternoon, Obi-Wan found out that Jedi Master Jard Dooku would be visiting the Jedi Temple to find an apprentice, so Obi-Wan fought against one of his competitors, Bruck Chun, to draw the attention of Master Dooku. However, the fierce offensive made Obi-Wan appeared to be too dangerous for training, so Dooku did not select him.

Because of his rejection, Obi-Wan was assigned to be a miner on Bandomeer for the AgriCorps. However, Obi-Wan believed that fate had given him a second chance, as Dooku had also been assigned to a mission on Bandomeer and they traveled together on the same voyage. En route to the planet, Obi-Wan and Dooku realized that Dooku’s old padawans, Xanatos, had set a trap for him and was plotting to assassinate him. This helped Dooku realize that Obi-Wan was worthy to be his padawans and after the successful completion of the mission, Obi-Wan officially became Dooku’s apprentice.

Over the years, Obi-Wan and Dooku had very different views on the nature of the Jedi Order and its relationship to the Supreme Chancellor and the Galactic Senate. This caused a great strain in their relationship, and Obi-Wan’s training often became awkward to the point of downright tension and ferocity. Even so, the Stark Hyperspace War that had ended seven years before the outbreak of the Utapau crisis proved that, when necessary, they could be each other’s strongest ally and that they could work together under any situation.

The Stark Hyperspace War was a small regional military conflict fought in the Quotile system, and it was one of the many minor conflicts that the Republic faced after the Ruusan Reformation. The Republic and the Jedi were forced to fight against the forces of the Stark Commercial Combine, a fierce group of pirates, mercenaries, bounty hunters and assassins that had united together under the leadership of Iaco Stark. The Combine received some aid from the Trade Federation during the conflict.

The conflict began with a series of raids in the Outer Rim and was solved by peaceful negotiations by the Republic’s diplomats, most notably Senator Finis Valorum and Jedi Master Tyvokka. The conflict escalated into a full scale war through the aggressions of Senator Ranulph Tarkin and the actions of the Combine and the Trade Federation. The entire war was fought in five battles that took place around Troiken, except for one battle on the planet Thyferra. At the end of the war, Stark decided to defect and help the Republic end the war. Soon after, the war official ended.

Obi-Wan, Dooku and Quinlan Vos had been a member of Tyvokka’s negotiation team and were forced to fight in the Fourth Battle of Quotile, a conflict in which Obi-Wan risked his life to save the life of Dooku. It was at that point where they proved that, despite their differences, they could work together. It was also during that battle that Obi-Wan’s friendship with Vos grew, and they came to consider each other the best of friends.

The war had numerous consequences for the Republic. Tyvokka and Ranulph Tarkin were both killed, and their seats on the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate, respectively, were left vacant and had to be filled. Nute Gunray also used the position to solidify himself as Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Finally, because of his handling of the negotiations during the war, Finis Valorum was elected Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic by his colleagues in the Galactic Senate.

Despite the fact that Obi-Wan and Dooku were able to prove that they had a somewhat strong relationship of trust as master and apprentice, the tensions between them continued to grow until their relationship became one of bitterness. Obi-Wan confided in a Jedi Council Member named Qui-Gon Jinn, and Jinn advised him on the situation. Though he was on the council, Qui-Gon was somewhat of a maverick Jedi and believed deeply in the Living Force while others did not. Qui-Gon attempted to teach Obi-Wan its philosophies, but Dooku became aware of it and demanded that the lessons be stopped. Qui-Gon complied, but that did not stop him from being a mentor to Obi-Wan both before and after Obi-Wan passed his trials and became a Jedi Knight. From that point on, Obi-Wan simply saw Dooku as a teacher rather than a master. He continued to hold that idea even while talking to him on the federation ship.

“How do you think this trade viceroy will deal with the chancellor’s demands?” Obi-Wan asked, finally breaking the silence. Dooku thought about his former padawan’s question for a moment. The Jedi Master had been born as the count of Serenno, though he was forced to relinquish that title when he was taken in by the Jedi Order. Like all Jedi, he was trained by Master Yoda as a padawan until he became the apprentice of Thame Cerulian at the age of thirteen. Cerulian shaped Dooku into an immensely powerful Jedi, causing Yoda to take notice of it and help train him in the later years of his Jedi training. During this time, Dooku became close friends with padawan Qui-Gon Jinn, though their relationship later became somewhat strained when he learned that Qui-Gon was attempting to train Obi-Wan in philosophies that Dooku did not believe in.

During his time as an instructor on Coruscant, many other Jedi Knights and Jedi Padawans took notice of his teaching methods and many of his principles were well-received, though many of his others were not. He told students that acceptance of others was not a guarantee and, like everyone else, a Jedi would be accepted or not accepted based on their behavior. He said that a Jedi who believed that he was more important than others would only demonstrate that his opinion should and would be ignored.

However, others noticed that, despite his lessons, Dooku felt he would become the greatest Jedi in history. Because of this, many of his other theories were not accepted. Dooku believed that one could draw from both sides of the Force equally to achieve perfect balance. He told many of his fellow Jedi that as long as one was not tempted to one side or another, one would be able to maintain a balance and harness the powers needed to alter the face of the galaxy for the better. However, many took note that his own pride, expressed in his very goals, brought him closer and closer to the Dark Side when attempting to study both sides. It was one of the reasons that Dooku was not a member of the Jedi Council, something that Dooku could never forgive the order for.

“The Neimoidians may be ruthless and heartless,” Dooku said, “but they’re still cowards. The negotiations will be short.”

The bridge of the federation vessel was massive. At the very front, six large windows that kept a watchful eye on the fleet and the planet sat just before a line of computer consoles where droids and Neimoidians worked. Behind the consoles was the large seat for the commander of the vessel, and two seats sat beside that for his first officer and honored guests. The rest of the bridge was a pit of computers and lights where dozens of droid workers sat and controlled the guidance and weapons systems. Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray stood on the main walkway of the bridge just beside his main advisor, Rune Haako. Gunray joined the federation years earlier as a trade officer, though he quickly found an opportunity to be promoted when he helped force the Pulsar Supertakner Corporation out of the directorate and, eventually, the federation itself. Because the directorate had a vacant seat, Gunray lobbied for the role and won out. With his position, he served as the senator in the Galactic Senate and supported a Republic offensive against the Stark Commercial Combine after it began to attack federation bacta transports. Gunray ultimately demanded the federation be granted the right to expand its army and later met with Ranulph Tarkin to try to bring a quicker end to his enemy.

Many suggested that Gunray acted as a coward when he fought in the Stark Hyperspace War, though others gave him the reputation of being a ruthless and cold-blooded killer when he ordered his droids to assassinate Jedi Master Tyvokka. However, Gunray denied that he had anything to do with the assassination and there was no official proof as the droids that had been used to murder the Jedi Master were “mysteriously” destroyed.

Because of his role in the conflict, Gunray was appointed Viceroy of the Trade Federation, though he did not have complete control due to the powers of the directorate. Two years before launching the blockade of Utapau, Gunray was contacted by a man named Darth Maul who claimed to be a Lord of the Sith, though Gunray did not truly believe his claims as the official reports said that the Sith had been destroyed during the final battle of the New Sith Wars. Though he was wary of Maul’s initial claims, Gunray decided to become allies with him when Maul promised to make him the sole leader of the Trade Federation. Maul also promised that the Trade Federation would be able to create a much larger droid army.

One year later, during a summit on Eriadu, the federation battle droids unexpectedly opened fire on the members of the directorate, all of whom were not Neimoidian, killing each one except for Gunray and Senator Lott Dodd, who were both conveniently absent from the meeting. Under Maul’s guidance, Gunray filled the seats with Neimoidian puppets such as his head advisor Rune Haako and other associates such as Daultay Dofine and Hath Monchar, thereby establishing Cato Neimoidia’s monopoly over the corporation.

Shortly thereafter, Senator Malus Palpatine of Utapau proposed that the slave trade be abolished in the outlying star systems. After several months of debate, Palpatine’s bill was signed into law by Chancellor Valorum and all worlds and corporations in the outer reaches of the Republic, including the Trade Federation, were forced to free all of their slaves. Outraged, Gunray requested Maul’s help in forcing the Republic to overturn the law. It was then that they plotted the blockade of Utapau. Gunray and the directorate had help from Maul during the process, as well as a man named Fett who served as Mandalore of the Mandalorian Clans. However, Gunray never was able to find out why a Mandalorian, especially Mandalore, would be helping them in their cause.

Despite his reservations about the help he was receiving, the blockade was launched and Gunray felt that it had been a tremendous success. The words that came out of his protocol droid, however, nearly made his jaw drop. For the first time, he began to question whether or not the blockade would be a success or if it would be an absolute, humiliating failure. “What?” Gunray asked the protocol droid in Neimoidian. “What did you say?” “The ambassadors are Jedi Knights, I believe,” TC-14 responded. “They said they could keep the Jedi out of this,” Rune Haako, Gunray’s assistant and member of the directorate, reminded them as he stepped up beside his superior. “Distract them,” Gunray shouted at Haako. “I will speak with Lord Maul.” “Are you insane?” the Neimoidian puppet asked his viceroy. “Those Jedi can twist your minds and turn your own thoughts against you. Send the droid.” “I feel obligated to point out - ” “Just get in there,” Gunray shouted, cutting the droid off mid-sentence. After watching the droid leave, Gunray turned around and made his way to the holographic generator. He always hated having to contact the supposed Lord of the Sith who spent most of the time in the chambers that they had constructed for him on the lower levels, but certain times called for the advice of their self-appointed superior officer. Within moments, the generator kicked in and the shrouded and hooded face of Darth Maul appeared as a blue, computer generated image. Very little was known of the Sith Lord Darth Maul, but his face told the Trade Federation everything they needed to know: he had no ideals, simply hatred. He was someone else’s pawn, to be sure. His face was covered in red and black tattoos, and the bulges coming out of the top of his hood indicated that he was a horned Zabrak. To some, he looked like the devil of Hell from Corellian mythology. “I told you never to interrupt my meditations,” Maul told them. “This had better be important.” “It is, my lord,” Gunray said. “The chancellor has sent two Jedi ambassadors to force us into a settlement.” “Yes,” Maul said, “I know.” “You knew,” Haako shouted. “You didn’t tell us they would be Jedi. You’ve betrayed us!” “You seem more worried about the Jedi than you are of me,” Maul laughed. “I am amused.”

A subtle smile crossed over the shrouded face of the supposed Lord of the Sith. Even though it was known if Maul was truly a Sith Lord or not, Gunray understand that he was a man who was to be feared. He turned towards his chief associate with an angry look in his eyes as he motioned for him to leave the area. As Haako stepped into one of the computer pits, though remaining close enough to hear the conversation, Gunray turned back to Maul. “What will you have us do?” Gunray asked. “They’ve arrived earlier than I expected,” Maul said. “We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops.” “Is that legal?” the viceroy asked. “I will make it legal,” Maul told him coldly and without hesitation. “Let the Jedi continue on their way. They are crucial to our plans.” As the hologram disappeared, Gunray had other motives in store. Though he would surely follow the order to begin landing troops on the surface, as he had been waiting one standard month to do so, he would not let the Jedi live. His concerns were with regaining the right to own slaves in the outlying systems, not with the concerns of someone with delusions so great that they believed they were actually a Lord of the Sith. Sith or no Sith, he would not simply sit by and watch as his own interests were threatened.

Chapter 2: Federation Hospitality
The large conference room began feeling colder than it had as Obi-Wan anxiously awaited the arrival of the Trade Federation viceroy. Normally, he would have been somewhat more patient, but the files they had been given on the Neimoidians before beginning the mission had clearly stated that the hierarchy of the federation may have been ruthless, though they were also extremely cowardly when it came to external threats. Obi-Wan would have assumed that the viceroy would have been there moments after they had arrived, leading him to become more suspicious of someone tampering with their files or, even worse, the elusive sensation he had felt when they first arrived on the ship.,

“Is it in their nature to make us wait this long?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No,” Dooku told him. “I sense an unusual amount of fear and deception for something as trivial as a trade dispute.”

As he took a drink from the tray that TC-14 had brought for them, Obi-Wan could not help but agree with his former master. He doubted very highly that someone would have deliberately misled them in regards to the nature of a race as despised as the Neimoidians, leaving only the possibility that there was a much deeper plot in the works than had met the eye. He could not help but wonder what the Jedi Council would think when they heard of his suspicions, as the twelve member council did not usually take criticisms of their initial investigations very well.

Obi-Wan’s fears were seemingly confirmed as he felt a strange disturbance within the Force, its source clearly being very close to him. He looked over to Dooku who also had a somewhat distressed look on his face, but his old age and experience had allowed him to mask it far more effectively than Obi-Wan was able to. Within seconds, both of the Jedi knew what the other was thinking and quickly stood up from their chairs.

Both of the Jedi pulled their blades off of their belts and quickly ignited them. Because he was a Jedi who had nearly mastered the art of Soresu, the more common form of defensive lightsaber combat, Obi-Wan had a standard hilt with an azure blade. The hilt, like many other lightsaber hilts that had been used by Jedi throughout the years, was primarily a silver shaft where the crystals that operated the device were placed. There were black areas throughout the hilt to give it some character, and the red activation button rested three quarters of the way up the shaft. At the bottom of the hilt were six cubical spikes that Obi-Wan felt added additional character, symbolizing that he, as a Jedi, was peaceful and elegant yet unpredictable as well.

Dooku, however, used a far less common and nearly unused style of hilt for his emerald blade, something that made him somewhat more well-known throughout the Jedi Order. The curved hilt of old-style fencing had been used thousands of years earlier during the true golden age of the Jedi Order. It allowed more precise movements as well as increased flexibility during lightsaber combat. It also proved to be a challenge to opponents, as the user of the blade would be able to strike at different angles than a normal hilt allowed. However, those who decided to construct such a lightsaber would have found that it was far more complex and far more difficult to construct, as it provided more of a challenge while aligning the crystals.

Obi-Wan and Dooku both looked around the room as they heard a slight hissing noise. At first, they could not ascertain where it had come from, but as they turned around they watched as gas began to slowly flood the room. The flow of gas increased as more came out, and it was clear to them that they were not about to be the victim’s of a malfunction, but rather a desperate assassination attempt. Obi-Wan knew that they had to survive to report such events to the Jedi Council, as it would prove that there was more to the situation than had originally met the eye.

“The viceroy -,” TC-14 began to say.

“Shut up,” Obi-Wan shouted, interrupting the droid as more gas flooded the room.

“Dioxis,” Dooku said, causing the two Jedi to immediately turn off their blades and take a deep breath. As they held the breath, the yellow-green smoke completely overtook them.

Just on the other side of the door, a group of B-1 battle droids formed up throughout the area. The heads of the B-1 line of Trade Federation battle droids were designed specifically to look like the skull of a dead Neimoidian. The intent of the Trade Federation was to use them to frighten an enemy, though most of the galaxy only feared their capabilities rather than their looks. Their looks did, however, bear a striking, if not exact resemblance to the OOM-model of battle droids, the B-1 series’ immediate predecessor. Unlike the OOM-models, however, the B-1s were not colored-coded based on their positions or functions.

The lead battle droid, designated Green One for the assassination of the Jedi Knights, reacted as the holo-emitter it was asked to carry lit up and beeped. At first, the droid raised its blaster, thinking that it was one of the Jedi. However, it quickly realized that it was coming from its own device. As it activated the holo-emitter, the shimmering blue holographic image of Nute Gunray appeared.

“They must be dead by now,” Gunray said. “Destroy what’s left of them.”

“Acknowledged,” Green One said in Neimoidian as the hologram faded away. “Check it out, Green Three. We’ll cover you.”

Green Three acknowledged the order and slowly began to make his way towards the door. As the droid approached it, it activated its bio-scanners so that it would be prepared for when the door opened and the Jedi, if they were still alive, emerged. As it cautiously opened the door, the deadly yellow cloud flooded into the hall. While the smoke moved through the corridor and eventually into the air-processing shafts nearby, the droids cocked their weapons as a figure stumbled out of the smoke. However, it was merely TC-14, still carrying the tray of drinks that it had brought for the Jedi ambassadors.

“Oh,” TC-14 said, noticing the battle droids, “excuse me.”

The battle droids lowered their weapons, all assuming that the protocol droid would have said something if the Jedi were still alive. However, after watching the droid leave, the battle droids quickly turned back towards the door as the heard a humming noise. When they were facing the door once again, they had just enough time to see two blades, one green and one blue, light up within the smoke.

“Blast them,” Green One ordered.

Within seconds, the droids raised their weapons and shots rang out into the room. However, each shot was deflected back with ease and skill as Obi-Wan and Dooku deflected the attacks. They emerged from the smoke and quickly began cutting down the droids in front of them. One by one, the droids fell to their Jedi assailants. Green One attempted to back away from the fight, as it knew that the viceroy was watching its transmissions from the bridge of the ship. However, the droid quickly realized that his chances of being destroyed were very high.

On the bridge of the ship, Gunray and Haako watched in horror as the droids were sliced down as if they were nothing. The Trade Federation battle droid armies had fought against numerous enemies during its time in service, but none were able to cut down the droid troops as quickly and easily as the two Jedi attackers had. Gunray knew that it was a testament to their immense skill and command over the Force, but that did not make it any less tolerable for him.

“Something’s wrong, Viceroy,” Green One told him over the transmitter. “Not exactly sure what’s - ”

Before the video transmission on the main viewscreen ended, Gunray and Haako had just enough time to watch as Obi-Wan’s blue blade sliced into the droid and destroyed it. Haako looked around the bridge in horror, hoping that one of the technicians monitoring the droids would tell them that something had simply happened to the transmitter. Based upon the look on his viceroy’s face, however, he knew that it wasn’t so and he could not help but feel great anger at his superior for defying Maul and putting them in such a precarious situation.

“Sirs,” one of the technicians from the pit shouted, “we’ve lost Green One.”

Gunray stopped dead in his tracks. He could not believe that he had been so foolish to think that a group of battle droids would be able to stop two clearly determined Jedi Knights. He was not concerned with Darth Maul, but he was concerned with the Jedi making it onto the bridge and arresting him for the assassination attempt, thereby putting an end to the work that they had put into the blockade. However, his concerns would were no matter. He had a backup plan in mind, and he knew exactly how to implement it.

“Close the blast doors,” Gunray shouted. “I want droidekas up here at once!”

“You arrogant fool,” Haako said as he shook his head. “You’ve just murdered us all.”

As the blast doors on the bridge sealed shut, Obi-Wan and Dooku had cut down nearly all the droids in the hallway leading to the bridge. Sparks flew everywhere, and the clattering of metal pieces was heard by the two Jedi as the droids fell down to the ground limp. Dooku backed away towards the bridge as Obi-Wan continued to fight off the droids and forced his green blade into the bridge doors in the hopes of cutting through it.

Other than simply emitting a colored light of pure energy, the blade of a lightsaber was essentially was a form without a mass that did not give off any heat, nor did it give off any energy until it came into contact with another solid. The power of the resulting energy was so great that it was able to cut through nearly anything, though Dooku knew full well that the speed through which it cut was heavily based upon the density of the object.

The bridge crew became tense and nervous as sparks started to fly out from their side. When chunks of molten metal began to fall from the metal’s wound, the Neimoidian crew attempted to move into the far back corner in the hopes of getting as far away from the Jedi as they possibly could. Gunray and Haako, however, were not about to look like cowards in front of their men, so they stayed where they were, albeit in a state of panic.

“They’re still coming through,” Haako shouted.

“This is impossible,” Gunray said. “Where are those damned droidekas?”

Just outside the bridge, two large droidekas, otherwise known as destroyer droids, rolled down the hallway at full speed. They were far more formidable than the typical battle droids used by the Federation, as their ability to transform into a wheel-like configuration allowed rapid movement and compact storage. When they came across an enemy, they were able to unfold into walking tripods with built-in twin blasters and, at times, personal shield generators. Such shield generators were somewhat powerful and were capable of deflecting or absorbing any type of blaster attack aside from high-powered blasters on starfighters.

The droidekas design was based off of designs made by the insectoid Colicoids that lived on Colla IV. The Colicoids were displeased with the limitations of the typical B-1 battle droids which were manufactured there, so the Federation was able to trade raw meats with the carnivorous insectoids as a means to get special rates on the normally costly droidekas. One main difference between the droidekas of Colla IV and the droidekas utilized by the Federation, however, was that the Federation linked them to a central computer, generally found on the bridge of a Federation command ship.

Just before the two droidekas reached the bridge, they were met by two more of the same class just before stopping and transforming into their tripod battle configuration. The droids unfolded their mechanical arms, and from on top of them their twin blasters unfolded on each arm. Dooku and Obi-Wan noticed them and immediately turned to react to their presence.

“I’d say this mission is past the negotiation stage,” Obi-Wan quipped.

Before he could even finish his sentence and Dooku could roll his eyes once again, the droidekas rushed their position and immediately began firing on them. Obi-Wan and Dooku deflected the blasts with ease, but were surprised to see them rebound off of the blue, bubble-like shields that were protecting the destroyers. They were forced to duck to avoid some of the rebounding blasts, as they had hit and bounced off of the ceiling, walls and floor.

“It’s a standoff,” Dooku said. “Let’s go.”

Dooku and Obi-Wan thrust their hands forward as if to grab hold of the air around them and made their way into a deep, albeit brief, concentration. Subtly twisting their wrists, they drew the powers of the Force into them like a waterfall flowing freely into the rivers of Alderaan. When the power reached its peak, they manipulated the Force and the universe around them and unleashed its power as they ran supernaturally fast through the halls, leaving the droidekas to attempt to ascertain their location.

On the far side of the hall, Obi-Wan and Dooku crawled into a ventilation system. The dusty shaft was cramped, which made it difficult for the tall Jedi Master Dooku to maneuver through it, but the two Jedi were able to make their way a short distance until they found a hangar bay adjacent to the one that they landed in. Not paying as close attention as they should have, they jumped down from the vent and landed behind a group of cargo crates only to thousands of battle droids and dozens of hover tanks and troop transporters being loaded onto troop transports.

The Multi-Troop Transports immediately caught their attention. The carriers, also known as MTTs, were manufactured and designed by the Baktoid Armor Workshop and were capable of carrying one hundred and twenty-two battle droids in a hydraulically powered deployment rack. The rack extended out from the face of the transporters, allowing the droids to be deployed directly into combat when necessary. The face of the transport was reinforced with case-hardened metal alloy studs and was designed to smash through enemy walls to reach its destination.

“It looks like an invasion army,” Obi-Wan said.

“This is an odd play for the Trade Federation,” Dooku decided. We’ve got to warn the Utapau and contact Chancellor Valorum.”

“We’d better do it somewhere else,” Obi-Wan told him. “The least they could do is let us hitch a ride with our friends over there.”

“Agreed,” Dooku said, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise. “We’ll stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet. Maintain communication silence until we’re on the surface.”

Obi-Wan nodded his head and began to stand up, but he immediately spotted a passing battle droid and dropped back down behind the cargo crates. He could sense Dooku’s disappointment, and the look on the Jedi Master’s face only reinforced it. Despite the fact that it annoyed Obi-Wan, he always tried to look past it and see that his former master only wanted what was best for him, though he always looked back on their time together and realized that it was only wishful thinking on his part.

“You were right about one thing, though,” Obi-Wan told Dooku with a smile. “The negotiations were short.”

“I’m sorry,” Dooku said, “but were you trying to be funny?”

“What?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Save your humor for someone else,” Dooku said as he rolled his eyes.

Not waiting to see Obi-Wan’s reaction to his comment, Dooku stood up and quickly ran towards a transport ship. Obi-Wan was not far behind him as he too ran towards one of the transports, albeit somewhat defeated by the fact that his former master had brushed him off once again. Regardless, Obi-Wan knew he had to concentrate on the mission and put his disappointment behind him as he slipped past the rack of battle droids and found his way into a small, cramped compartment to hide in.

The damaged doorway to the command ship bridge slid open to reveal Darth Maul standing within it. Gunray did not even notice, as he continued to pace the bridge while waiting for word on the Jedi. Had he been paying attention, he clearly would have seen that Maul was displeased with him. Maul was, pure and simple, a tool and weapon of absolute hatred and corruption. The young Zabrak from Iridonia was marked by tattoos that covered his entire muscular body. No one knew exactly where he had come from, and some did not know if even Maul knew where he had come from. Despite that, it did not matter to anyone. All they needed to know was that death would have surely fallen upon anyone who wronged him.

“Viceroy,” Maul said and watched as Gunray jumped as he spoke, “I thought I told you to let the Jedi go on their way.”

“Yes, you did,” Gunray told him, “but I just thought - ”

“You are not here to think,” Maul reminded him. “You’re here to do what I tell you to do, and for betraying my trust you will be punished.”

Maul raised his hands, and his guards immediately stepped towards them and forcefully grabbed the viceroy by the shoulders. Maul had specific punishment techniques that he used for certain levels of failure, and he was to be sure that Gunray received one of the more severe ones for nearly derailing a plan that had been in effect for almost one century. Though he despised command, Maul knew that Gunray’s stupidity would force him to take command of the fleet for the time being.

“My lord,” a crew member said from the bit below him, “there’s an incoming transmission from the planet.”

Maul nodded his head and the viewscreen before him came to life to reveal the face of Utapauian Queen Arcadia. The queen, twenty-five standard years old, was tall and slender. She was dressed in a long, red gown and her long brown hair fell freely from her head to just below her shoulders. Normally a woman who always had a smile on her face, the tense situation had wiped the smile off and replaced it with a grim look of determination.

“Queen Arcadia,” Maul said as he bowed, “I’m honored that you’ve graced me with your presence. It is a great pleasure.”

“You will not be so pleased when you hear what I have to say, Lord Maul,” Arcadia told him. “Your blockade of our planet is over.”

“I am not aware of such a failure,” Maul said with a smile.

“I have word that the Senate is voting on the blockade,” Arcadia told him.

“And you know the outcome?” Maul asked. “I wonder why your Republic even bothers to vote then.”

“Enough of this pretense!” Arcadia shouted before regaining her calm. “I am aware that the Chancellor’s ambassadors are with you now and that you’ve been commanded to reach a settlement.”

“I know nothing of any Jedi,” Maul told her, noting her surprised reaction at his purposely-made slip of the tongue. “You must be mistaken.”

“We’ll see,” Arcadia said, “but the Federation has gone too far this time.”

The queen ended the transmission from her end, and as the picture faded away Maul turned away from the screen with a grin. However, he could tell that the crew did not share his amusement. With the queen’s suspicion, however, Maul had what he wanted and was prepared to give the Federation what they wanted: an invasion of Utapau. First, they would have to disrupt all communication. Only then would the planet be cut from the rest of the Republic and only then would the planet be his for the taking.

Chapter 3: Invasion
Utapau was the sectorial capital of the Chommell Sector, located just outside the Outer Rim Territories. A largely unspoiled planet, it was well known for its large plains, forests, oceans, lakes and immense, flowing waterfalls. Though many other worlds had the same surface features, the interior of the planet was a mystery to astrophysicists as its porous, plasma rich interior and a lack of a molten core was unlike any other known planet in the galaxy.

The surface of Utapau was covered with swamps, rolling lush plains, seas and mountain ranges. The largest mountains, the Gallo Mountains, divided the great grass plains of the north from the Lianorm Swamp in the south. Just south of the swamp was the Paonga Sea, the bottom of which contained the seat of the Gungan Empire, though the Utapauans rarely had contact with or spoke to the Gungans, the race believed to have been indigenous to the planet.

The culture of Utapau was well known throughout the region. The Humans of the planet were renowned for their peacefulness and being enlightened and artistic. Being highly aristocratic, the planet developed into a classical feudal society with a hereditary noble class and a hereditary monarchy, along with a common class. There was not, however, a lower class which proved to be a testament to the enlightened culture. It was also proven by the fact that, unlike most other worlds, adulthood and the right to vote was not based on biological age, but rather it was based on intellectual maturity. Such a policy came about when monarchs were forced to take the throne in their teenaged years, as many did not feel it to be appropriate that there could be a teenaged monarch without teenaged voters for the legislature.

In the north was the capital city of Theed. In the city’s early history, it was simply one of the many city-states on the planet. However, one thousand years before the Federation first laid their treacherous eyes on the planet, the city became engulfed in a long and difficult civil war with the other city-states across the planet. It was not until the reign of a monarch named Jafan in Theed that the conflict ended, the city-states unified and Theed became the capital.

The unified and harmonious architectural style came about after strict planning and extensive rebuilding from the ancient past of the planet. If one was to have stood in the highest point at the center of the city of Theed, which was the location of the royal palace, one would have seen that the buildings of Theed stretched out towards the horizon. The city was a vast architectural triumph with high stone walls, green gilded domes, peaked towards and sculpted archways. Sunlight reflected off of the surface of the roofs and the architecture was a companion to the lush green planet. The immense flow of the waterfalls kilometers away allowed for a soft and distant backdrop to anyone who took the time to listen.

Inside the royal palace, Queen Sabé Arcadia sat on her throne in a tense discussion with her advisors and the holographic image of Senator Malus Palpatine. Arcadia was the daughter of King Veruna Arcadia, the former ruling monarch that had imposed tyrannical rule across Utapau before he was assassinated. Arcadia did not like to talk about what her father did, nor did she try to think about it frequently. Her concern was doing what she believed was right to serve the people, not her own interests. As far as she knew, the people continued to trust her after two years as queen, despite the fact that they could not elect her.

The House of Arcadia had ruled Utapau for centuries. They had originally been a house of warriors, some of which had fought against the Gungan Empire of the great lakes centuries earlier. It was not until three hundred years earlier that they decided to become politicians, and one of Arcadia’s ancestors thrust herself into the void left by a late heirless monarch to become queen. The House of Arcadia ruled Utapau ever since and always had the love and respect of the people, aside from when Veruna had ruled with an iron fist.

Veruna’s reign became unpopular when Utapau became a player in the interstellar plasma energy market. High grade plasma veins were discovered below the streets of Theed, so Veruna and Palpatine decided to build a plasma mining and refining center in the heart of the city. Because the Utapauans were not fond of actual trade, they agreed to allow the Trade Federation to purchase the refined plasma at a fixed cost, though the Federation sold Utapau short by selling the plasma for marked up prices. The Utapauans immediately recognized that the Neimoidians had taken advantage of their lack of experience in interstellar commerce.

It did not take long for the people to protest and demand to be free of the contract. Veruna never wanted the trade agreement to begin with and sensed that there would be a military confrontation. Therefore, he expanded the role of the Space Fighter Corps, which was a division of the Royal Security Forces, and founded the N-1 starfighter squadron. The move was unpopular to the Utapauans, as they perceived them to be a provocative move towards the Trade Federation. Veruna quickly began attempting to suppress the dissenting opinions and expanded the size of the security forces twofold to spread them across the planet in an effort to create a police state.

Shortly thereafter, Veruna was assassinated and his daughter rose to power. The new Queen Arcadia quickly began to reduce the size of the security forces once again, but she decided to keep the starfighter squadron for protection if the need arose. Because of that, there were death threats early on in her reign, so her Head of Security Captain Panaka insisted that she and her numerous handmaidens go through extensive combat training. After a short time, the threats subsided and Utapau seemingly returned to peace, at least until the Federation blockaded the planet.

During her tenure as queen, Panaka insisted that Arcadia make the unprecedented decision to cultivate a group of handmaidens. The handmaidens were all women of similar age and they all bore a striking resemblance to the queen. The handmaidens acted as bodyguards, decoys and confidants to the queen, all roles which were designed by Panaka and approved by Arcadia.

The current conflict worried her more than anything else had ever worried her before. When she came to power, she assured her people that she would not allow any violent conflicts to take place, but she began to realize day after day of the blockade that she could have little choice in that matter. She had been a strong supporter of the Galactic Senate’s decision to ban slavery in the outlying systems, which was undoubtedly one of the reasons that the Trade Federation chose to blockade Utapau. While she did not regret freeing the thousands of slaves that were freed by the banning, she could not help but wonder if Utapau would have been targeted had she not voiced her support.

“Your majesty,” Theed Governor Sio Bibble said, causing Arcadia to look up from her thoughts, “the senator has asked you a question.”

“I’m sorry,” Arcadia told him and those who were seated around her. “Please, go ahead Senator.”

“I was asking how what the Federation said could be true,” Palpatine repeated. “I have assurances from Chancellor Valorum that his ambassadors did arrive. It must be the...get...gotiate...bassadors...”

The blue holographic form of Senator Palpatine began to sputter and fade away, but for a moment it appeared that the transmission was gaining strength once again. However, the image became further corrupted as the seconds passed by until, finally, it faded out altogether. Arcadia hid the worried look on her face as best as she could, but she could see it on the faces of her advisers. It was as if their worst fears were coming true.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“Check the communications array,” Captain Panaka told one of the guards. The guard saluted and waited until Panka returned the salute to walk out of the throne room and carry out his orders.

“A malfunction?” Governor Bibble asked with a suspicious look on his face, one that he knew was shared by Panaka.

“We just finished a diagnostic two days ago,” Panaka told them. “The array is most likely being disrupted by the Federation.”

“A communications disruption can only mean one thing,” Bibble reminded them. “Invasion.”

“I can’t believe that even the Federation would go that far,” Arcadia said.

“The Senate would revoke their trade franchise altogether,” Panaka told them.

“Then we must continue to rely on negotiation,” Arcadia decided.

“Negotiation?” Bibble asked, almost with a laugh. “We’ve lost all communication. We have to be prepared to defend ourselves.”

“This is a dangerous situation, your highness,” Panka added, “and our security volunteers are no match for the Federation army.”

Arcadia sat still for a moment, forcing herself to go through all of the possible alternatives and all of the possible consequences and outcomes in her head. She did not like any of them, but she particularly despised the idea of having to wage a war against the Trade Federation. If she was forced into doing it, she would protect her people. She had told her people long ago that there were things she could not do, but there were things she would do if necessary. However, until that time came, she would only prepare to defend the people through non-violent means.

“I will not condone a course of action that will lead us to war,” Arcadia told them.

On the gray, twilight side of the planet hundreds of kilometers from Theed and any other city, three landing crafts slowly descended through the cloud cover of the planet. Their starfighters escorts split off from the main group and made their way kilometers into the distance on what would become a routine reconnaissance mission to ensure that no one had witnessed their arrival and to destroy anyone or anything that did. The Federation had a great deal at stake in the outcome of the invasion, and the last thing they needed was for a settler to tip off the government about the arrival of the Federation forces. Had they not disrupted communication, sensors also would have been online so everyone on the planet would have undoubtedly known about the invasion before the Federation ships even entered the atmosphere.

As one of the landing crafts began to slow and wobble in mid-air a few meters above the surface, a blue beam of energy sliced through the metal hull on the craft’s underside. The blue beam cut a man-sized circular hole in the bottom and a group of battle droids plummeted towards their imminent destruction. However, another figure emerged from the hole, revealing itself to be Obi-Wan. Putting his lightsaber back onto his belt, he jumped out of the craft and dove smoothly into the lake below him. A kilometer away, the landing craft plowed into the swampy ground, smoking as it broke off a wing.

One after another, the warships landed in the eerie swamps. Battle droid scouts rode back and forth through the mud on their armed and hovering one-man STAP vehicles, as they were the first ones out of the ships as the main doors opened. They continued to scan the area, looking for some indication of a possible assailant, as they did not believe that the crashed landing craft hit the ground due to a minor malfunction. However, they could find no sign of a saboteur, so they moved on to scan yet another area of the swamp.

As the battle droids flew off, Obi-Wan’s head emerged from the mud of the shallow lake. He wiped off his eyes, clearing the scum from within them that had irritated him while under water, and as he did so we could immediately see the activities of the invasion forces far into the mist. Though he did not know where Dooku was, he knew he could not have been far away. Annoyed that he had to continue his brief underwater escape, Obi-Wan took several deep breaths before disappearing again under the muddy swamp just before several more large, troop transports emerged from the nearby landing craft.

Just beside the landing craft, the droid commander known as OOM-9 looked out over his vast army of transports rolling across the swampy plains and into the forests. Though his programming did not allow for any form of emotion, he seemed to have felt pleasure at the sight of his invasion force making its way towards the plains of the planet, as it would not be long until they would arrive at Theed and occupy the entire planet. However, OOM-9 was distracted from his scanning as a small hologram of Darth Maul appeared before him on the tank.

“Yes, Lord Maul?” the droid commander asked.

“The Jedi are no longer aboard this ship,” Maul told them. “If you come into contact with them, let them go on their way.”

“Yes, sir,” OOM-9 immediately responded. The droid commander did not know why Lord Maul would have wanted two Jedi assassins to be allowed to continue on their way in what would quickly become a restricted military zone, but he was programmed to follow all orders and intended to carry out that one as well, despite his ignorance as to the reasoning behind it.

Kilometers away, Dooku ran as fast as he could through the strange landscape, barely stopping only once to glance back as the monstrous troop transports emerged from the mist. Animals began to run past him to avoid the titanic figures, but Dooku was barely able to keep up. He was one of the older Jedi Masters and had only been sent on the mission due to his skills in negotiation, not for the combat skills to be used in actual action that had disappeared every year he grew older.

As he ran, he could feel his joints snapping and rubbing against one another, the friction brought about by it causing him pain, albeit a minimal amount. Regardless, he found himself regretting his agreement to travel with his former padawan, as he had no intention of seeing action. He knew that Obi-Wan, on the other hand, more than likely would have no trouble making his way through the swamp and defending himself against the droid army, and it was the one thing that Dooku envied him over.

He had known Obi-Wan even before they became master and apprentice, and even then Dooku was not all that fond of him. When Obi-Wan first became his apprentice, he felt that he was reckless and arrogant, even more so than most students. Because of that, Dooku tried to transfer Obi-Wan to another master multiple times during the early years of their training, but each time it was rejected without so much as a reason for it. He had no choice but to train Obi-Wan to the best of his abilities, but the Padawan Obi-Wan always seemed to resist his teachings.

Obi-Wan once told him that he considered their mutual friend, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, more of a mentor than Dooku. It did not bother him until he found out that Qui-Gon was teaching him his own philosophies, but he refrained from saying anything as he wanted to spend less time with Obi-Wan. Even with Qui-Gon’s trainings, Dooku did not believe that Obi-Wan would pass his trials and become a Jedi Knight, as he felt he became more reckless and arrogant with each passing day. Despite his reservations, the Jedi Council knighted Obi-Wan, but Dooku still considered him his greatest failure as a teacher.

A few meters from Dooku, a young creature squatted down on the ground. The creature, a Gungan, held in his had a clam that he had retrieved from the murky swamp. As he ripped it open with his bare hands, the shell dropped to the ground and the Gungan took the clam out from within it. Before he could put it into his mouth, he looked up to see Dooku running towards him, followed closely by the large troop transports that sought to run him down. The Gungan’s eyes opened wide and realized that it was his chance to gain favor from someone and escape the murky swamps, so when it appeared that the machines were going to overrun the aging Jedi the creature dove onto him and held him to the ground as the troop transports passed over them and continued on through the swamp.

“Damn,” the creature said in his native tongue as he stood up.

The Gungan reached out his hand to help the Jedi Master up, but Dooku swatted it away. The creature did not know why Dooku would have done such a thing after he saved his life, but either way he knew what his gods demanded of the occurrence. He would not let his first opportunity for freedom in two years pass by him faster than the troop transports that nearly killed him in the process.

Before the creature could even speak, Dooku stood up once again and watched as the war machines made their way off into the distance before he started back on his way. It angered him to no end that some frog creature had to save him when he should have been able to run from the transports himself, though he would never admit it. He was too proud to admit that he had been saved by what he immediately perceived to be a lower life form.

“Hey, wait,” the creature said, albeit in Galactic Basic that time. The Gungan was nearly startled by how fast Dooku turned back around to look at him. The Gungan prepared to speak once again, but Dooku grabbed him by his clothes and slammed him up against a tree.

“You almost got us killed,” Dooku shouted. “Are you brainless?”

The Gungan did not take kindly to being pushed around, nor had he ever. He grabbed the Jedi Master by the wrists and pushed him back into the mud, becoming angry that he ever decided to help such a stubborn person. Then, adding insult to injury, the man dared to question his intelligence, despite the fact that it was the Jedi Master who was unintelligently trying to make his way away from a troop transport instead of simply ducking to the ground.

“I’m talking to you,” the Gungan said, “so obviously I’m not.”

“The ability to speak does not make you intelligent,” Dooku said angrily. “Now get out of here.”

“No, no,” the Gungan said, “you have to come with me now. I saved your life. You owe me a life debt!”

“You saved my life?” Dooku said with a laugh, despite the fact that he knew what the creature had said was true.

“I pulled you down away from that machine,” the Gungan reminded him. “You would have been killed. Your life debt to me is demanded by the gods.”

Before Dooku could argue the existence of whatever gods the creature believed in, which he fully intended to do despite the mission at hand simply to get rid of him, two STAPs emerged from the mist while chasing after Obi-Wan. Dooku immediately recognized that Obi-Wan had his lightsaber in his hand, though he was not using it. Rolling his eyes, Dooku threw the Gungan into the mud and pulled his own lightsaber off of his belt. Immediately after activating it, the droids fired at him but he deflected their fire back to them and the STAPs fell from the air in flames.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said after he stopped running. “The water fried my weapon.”

“You forgot to turn the power off again,” Dooku told him. “It won’t take long to recharge it, but you can’t keep making these careless mistakes. You’re a Jedi Knight now, not a padawan.”

“Now you saved my life!” the Gungan shouted, not giving Dooku or Obi-Wan any time to react to the problem with the lightsaber. “Our life debt it settled!”

“What’s this?” Obi-Wan asked, almost in a disgusted manner.

“A local,” Dooku said coldly. “Let’s get out of here before more droids show up.”

“Wait,” the Gungan said before they could get on their way. “If you’re looking for refuge, then the safest place would be Otoh Gunga City in the lakes. It’s where I grew up.”

“A city?” Dooku asked, suddenly intrigued by what the Gungan had to say.

“Could you take us there?” Obi-Wan asked.

“It’s the least he could do after what he just put me through,” Dooku said, clearly annoyed.”

Obi-Wan gave Dooku a hand gesture as a subtle way of telling him to back off. He knew that his former master became easily irritated by those that he looked down upon, and it was clear to him that he looked down upon the Gungan. While the creature did strike Obi-Wan as being rather odd, in both looks and attitude, he recognized that he had something to offer them and that it was not a coincidence that they found one another.

“On second thought,” the Gungan said, “no. I can’t take you there. I’m afraid I’ve been banished from my home. The council has every legal right to execute me if I return there.”

All of them turned as they heard a rumbling in the distance. They looked upwards and could see the tops of trees falling and crashing to the ground as the Trade Federation war machines continued to make their way through the swamps. Obi-Wan and Dooku both turned to each other and shared the mutual surprise of seeing so many Trade Federation forces moving through. It was clear that they were not simply planning on invading the planet, but rather they were planning to occupy it indefinitely. They would need safe refuge in order to survive.

“Do you hear that?” Obi-Wan asked the creature.

“I do,” the Gungan responded.

“That is the sound of a thousand terrible things headed this way,” Obi-Wan told him. “If they find us, they will crush us, grind us into tiny pieces and blast us into the oblivion. Is that what you want?”

The Gungan considered what the Jedi Knight had to say. The creature had planned to return to his home with Dooku to show that he had saved the life of another in the hopes that he would once again be able to gain favor with the council of his people, but Dooku saved his life as well which cancelled out the life debt. With no justification for returning to his home with outsiders other than helping them, which his people never had any interest in doing, he feared that he would be killed. However, he could not ignore the fact that the two Jedi were in trouble. It was noble enough to know when to put aside his own desires in order to help other people.

“Your point is well seen,” the Gungan said. “I’ll take you to Otoh Gunga.”

“Before we leave,” Dooku said, “what’s your name?”

“Jar Binks,” the creature said with a smile, “Crowned Prince of the Gungan Empire.”

Chapter 4: Otoh Gunga
Jar Binks led the two Jedi through the swamps, and while doing so he tried as hard as he could to block their demeaning comments out of his mind. It was typical Human arrogance, one of the many reasons that the Gungan and the Humans of Utapau were unable to get along with one another. It was strange to him to see that two Jedi, the supposed guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, would quietly, albeit not quietly enough, mock another sentient life form simply based on looks. As a Human would say, they were judging a book by its cover without actually opening it to see what was inside.

Humans and Gungans had had issues with one another for centuries. The Gungans were the indigenous species of the planet, the Humans having colonized the planet years later. The Humans arrived at the end of the Jedi Civil War when the Crizmalltian monarch Elsinore den Tasia sponsored the Republic explorer Kwilaan who discovered the planet. Utapau became known in the neighboring sectors as a world suitable for big game hunting, though it was not until fifty years later that permanent Human settlements were established. Shortly thereafter, cultural differences between the Humans and the Gungans caused great tension, though open conflict was rare amongst the two peoples.

The Gungans had lived in rivaling cities for many years. Nearly three thousand years before the arrival of Federation forces, a Gungan warlord named Rogoe destroyed an ancient Gungan city, and to combat Rogoe another Gungan leader called Councilor Gallo united the Gungan tribes under a Gungan Grand Army. They then conquered Spearhead, Rogoe’s capital city, and renamed it Otoh Gunga. The Council of Otoh Gunga, which included Gallo’s descendant Councilor Rugor Nass, continued to maintain hierarchical leadership over the councils of other Gugan cities.

While there was always tension amongst the Humans and the Gungans, they were forced to cooperate in trade agreements outside of what the Humans referred to as respectable society. One Human city, Kaadara, came to depend on a Gungan security force to protect it from the wild beasts of the planet. However, such a tradition eventually died out over time due to the prejudices between the people.

One hundred and fifty years earlier, the Humans and Gungans fought, for the first time, in an all-out war. Hundreds were killed on each side, and both sides came to lose the war as neither gained the upper hand over the other. However, it did unify the Gungan cities more than any other conflict had, though it also created a great deal of additional resentment towards the Humans of the planet.

“How much longer?” Dooku asked, as they emerged from the fog on the shore of an immensely vast lake.

“We have to go underwater,” Jar told them.

Jar took a deep breath before stepping into the cold water. While it was freezing to most, to someone like Jar who had spent most of their life in the deep it was cool and refreshing. In a sudden move, his head quickly dropped below the water as the shallow sand ended at the edge of an underwater ridge. He swam back up to the surface of the lake to look back at his Jedi companions, who were preparing to go underwater themselves with two breath masks that appeared to convert water into air without the use of an air tank.

“I’m warning you two,” Jar said, “my people don’t like outsiders. Don’t expect a warm welcome from them.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Obi-Wan replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “This hasn’t been our day for warm welcomes,” Obi-Wan said, looking back on the troubling day he’d had.

When they too dropped off of the ridgeline after making their way into the water, Obi-Wan and Dooku swam closely behind the Gungan. Obi-Wan immediately noticed how hard it must have been for Jar being banished, as he seemed to be at home in the water for the first time in many years. He could tell by the look on his master’s face, however, that he was not amused with their situation. Obi-Wan only wished he would be able to lighten up and trust in the direction that the Force took them rather than despise it for carrying out its will.

As he turned away from looking at a school of fish swimming by him, Obi-Wan saw the Gungan city directly in front of him. It was an underwater city made up of large, glass-like bubbles that became more distinct as they moved closer, a definite contrast against the black, murky depths. The city itself was anchored to a massive cliff deep within the lake and was a mass of hydrostatic force-field bubbles that kept the water out while allowing the Gungans to enter through them.

As they approached the strange, art-noveau habitat, Obi-Wan and Dooku looked at one another and shared a look of mutual intrigue and worry as they were unable to see where and how they would enter the city. However, their looks of worry changed to looks of surprise as they watched Jar swim right through one of the bubble membranes, which immediately sealed behind him. Following the Gungan’s lead, they swam through the bubbles and emerged standing on the other side, only slightly damp.

“Home sweet home,” Jar said in his native tongue while watching the Gungans in the massive square mumble between themselves and scatter as they saw the outsiders. His tone resonated both happiness and worry.

“Hey, you!” a voice called out before Jar could even admire his home. “Stop right there!”

Jar and the Jedi turned to their left to see four guards armed with long, electrically charged poles ride up to them on large, two-legged creatures. The guards immediately jumped down from the creatures and activated their electric poles. From behind the creatures came Tarpals, the Captain of Otoh Gunga Security, with a grim and determined look on his face. His father had been killed by an outsider, so he despised them more than most. Seeing the two Jedi did not bring up warm memories, instead making him angrier than he usually was.

“Captain,” Jar said, “I demand that you - ”

“You’re not in a position to demand anything, Binks,” Tarpals said, with a sharp and angry tone. “You’re going to the council and you’re looking at a lot more than banishment this time.”

Obi-Wan and Dooku looked at one another, realizing that the reception was colder than they had expected. While Jar had warned them not to expect any warm welcomes, they did not expect to be arrested by the guards and brought before the Gungan Grand Council in such a manner. While the council was their destination, they had hoped to arrive more peacefully than being escorted by armed guards. It did not necessarily put a kink in their plans, though it significantly altered their perception of the Gungan’s views on outsiders.

The bruised and bloodied Nute Gunray stumbled and fell back onto the side of his desk from the sheer force of Maul’s fists. Gunray coughed and slowly tried to make his way back to his feet. Blood flowed down from his face and his right eye was swollen from the seemingly unending torture. As he struggled to get back from his feet, Maul picked him up by the shoulders and struck him in the gut with his knee, which sent the Neimoidian to the ground once again where he could only look up and see Maul towering over him. Gunray wailed in pain as he grabbed at his aching muscles.

Maul stood firm and resolute, the tattoos that covered his body exposed by his shirtless attire. The torture session had caused him to break a sweat, and he found the Neimoidian to be surprising resilient. All Maul wanted was a simple, albeit forced, apology from the viceroy, yet Gunray seemed to be reluctant to do so. Maul did not know why, but it was no matter. He was amused by torture and was always disappointed when a session had to end, and he was particularly pleased to be able to torture Gunray.

Maul looked down at the Neimoidian and saw in his eyes the fear that he saw in so many victims before him, and in order to let that fear manifest itself he always need a dramatic display of force and a mock psychological imbalance. To do that for the viceroy, Maul gripped the edge of Gunray’s desk with all of his strength and threw it into the air and against the wall. The display let out a very loud and ear-piercing crash as its metallic surface impacted against the wall, thereby knocking portraits and ancient relics off of the cold, silver plating. Gunray put his hands to his ears, displaying annoyance and pain simultaneously.

“You surprise me, Gunray,” Maul told him as he knelt down to Gunray’s level. “You Neimoidians are usually cowards. I would have broken any of your men an hour ago, but you’ve held on. Why?”

“I don’t fear you,” Gunray replied, his voice croaked from the beating.

“You’re a liar,” Maul told him. “I can see it in your eyes. What you don’t know is that all eyes tell a story, and that story is fear. Fear attracts the fearful and those foolish enough to believe that they are fearless. It brings out the strong, the weak, the innocent and the corrupt ones just like you. Fear is my strongest ally, as it tells me everything I need to know about a person. Would you like to know your story, Gunray?”

“Go to Hell,” Gunray said weakly, barely able to get the words out through his bloodied mouth.

Maul smiled and gave the viceroy a remarkably out-of-character pat on the shoulder before standing up once again. However, the smile quickly faded. Maul lifted his leg and brought his foot crashing into Gunray’s face. The viceroy fell to his side and let out a loud and deep moan as the pain began to become unbearable, though Maul doubted the surprisingly resilient viceroy would tell him such.

“I am Hell, Viceroy,” Maul said with a grin accompanied by his yellow-red eyes that served as a sinister look into his mind and story. “Never forget that.”

The Gungan guards led Jar and the Jedi through the city, and the two Jedi looked in awe of their surroundings. They had seen many advanced civilizations before with remarkable architecture, and some of them were under water. However, they had never seen anything quite like the architecture and the surroundings of Otoh Gunga. How anyone, even an aquatic species, was able to build such structures underwater was a mystery to them, but they did not dare to ask.

As the Jedi looked in awe of their surroundings for the first time, Jar had a feeling of nostalgia. He had not been to the city in two years, and it felt refreshing to be in his home once again. He had been raised only a few kilometers from where they were walking in the monarchial residences as the son of the High Councilor Gorgr Binks. However, his father had been killed and Jar had been deemed to young to rise to the seat of High Councilor, so Rugor Nass took his place and always looked down upon him. While Jar’s banishment was his own fault, he always suspected that the punishment was due to the fact that Nass had no desire to ever see him again.

Otoh Gunga was founded by Boss Gallo, nearly three thousand years earlier on the remains of the Gungan city of Spearhead after the unification of the Gungan tribes. When the unification came, the Gungan populations from Otoh Jahai, Otoh Langua, Otoh Mandass, Otoh Raban, Otoh Sancture, Otoh Urs and Rellias came together and all decided to live in Otoh Gunga, a name which meant “One Gungan” in the native Gungan language. Throughout the years, the population skyrocketed into the millions, all of whom lived in harmony with one another.

Jar looked up as he saw that they arrived at the door to the High Council chamber. He did not expect a warm welcome from the council, though he knew that the Jedi had an important mission to complete and he would do what he could to help them. However, he knew that the council would be sure to see his execution, so whether he would be able to help the Jedi would remain to be seen.

The Gungan soldiers led them through the door and into the chamber. A long, circular bench sat all across one side of the bubble with one seat higher than the rest for the High Councilor. Each seat was occupied by a Gungan official, each in their official robes of their respective council positions. The higher seat was occupied by a heavier Gungan, Rugor Nass, who looked like he had never been as thin and muscular as Jar was. His neck was nearly nonexistent, as he head and shoulders seemed to merge together from the fat. The Jedi could immediately tell from the look on Nass’s face that he was not pleased to see outsiders.

“You cannot be here,” Nass told them, not wasting any time. “This army up there is not our concern.”

“As you seem to already know,” Dooku said as he stepped forward from the guards, his voice cracked from the amount of energy he had been forced to exert, “a droid army is about to attack the Utapau. We must warn them.”

“We don’t care about the Utapau,” Nass said, his tone that of someone who had been in a fair share of disagreements with the Utapau, “and they don’t care about us. They stole our sacred crystal, but they refuse to even acknowledge that they took it. They can’t be trusted.”

“We sympathize,” Obi-Wan said as he too stepped away from the guards, “but once those droids take control of the surface they will take control of you.”

“I don’t think so,” Nass said with a grin.

“You and the Utapau are from a symbiotic circle,” Obi-Wan told the High Councilor while scratching his beard, intrigued that a person of power would reject such an obvious fact. “What happens to one of you will affect the other. You have to understand this.”

“We don’t care about the Utapau,” Nass shouted in anger, “or your problems!”

Dooku had no patience for what he perceived to be the arrogance of an insignificant person. He placed his concentration away from the discussion with the Gungan leader and focused on channeling the Force around him in the hopes of briefly and subtly influencing the minds of the Gungan leaders. When he felt that he had successfully grabbed enough of the figurative universe around him, he subtly waved his hand and hoped that the Gungans were truly as weak-minded as he believed.

“Then send us on our way,” Dooku told them, his voice highly suggestive.

“We will send you on our way,” Nass echoed mindlessly.

“We could use a transport,” Dooku continued.

“We will give you a Bongo,” Nass decided, not noticing Jar’s confusion behind the Gungan guards. “The fastest way to the Utapau is to go through the ocean core.”

“Thank you for your help,” Dooku said as he and Obi-Wan bowed. Dooku resonated satisfaction from his successful trick, though he was not particularly thankful for the attitudes of the Gungan leaders as he and Obi-Wan made their way towards the door.

“What’s a Bongo?” Obi-Wan asked, whispering to his master.

“Hopefully a transport,” Dooku replied.

“Wait,” Jar shouted, causing the Jedi to turn from the door and notice that he was still chained and held by the Gungan guards. “They’re setting you up. You’ll never survive the core without my help. Get me out of this and I’ll go with you.”

Dooku appeared to be ready to head for the door, as he was not prepared to allow Jar to travel with them to Theed. However, Obi-Wan knew better. He had heard stories of the dangers within the oceans of Utapau, and they did not know where they were headed. Jar would undoubtedly prove useful to them and they would need to bring him along, lest they be killed before they even reached the capital.

“We’re short on time,” Dooku said, annoyed by the Gungan."

“Time spent here can help us later,” Obi-Wan reminded him, “and we need a navigator to get us through the core.”

“You’re losing focus,” Dooku said pointedly.

“Your sensitivity to the Living Force isn’t your strength,” Obi-Wan told him as he turned back towards the council, a hint of annoyance within his voice. “What is to become of Jar Binks?”

“He was exiled from here,” Nass said, “and he broke our laws by coming back. He will be...punished.”

“He’s been a great help to us,” Obi-Wan informed them, “so I hope the punishment isn’t going to be to severe.”

“Pounded until dead,” Nass said with a grin, expressing no concern for the life of Jar, only satisfaction in the thought of the Gungan’s brutal death.

Obi-Wan could barely keep his eyes from showing his surprise and worry. He had expected a simple execution, but not a rather elaborate and painful death. He turned around and saw the look of defeat on Jar’s face, as well as the look of concern that had actually manifested itself on his former master’s face. Both looks only made him more determined to save the Gungan’s life. However, he would have to stretch the truth somewhat, and he knew that he would have to let Jar know that he was not trying to embarrass him.

Just play along, Obi-Wan told Jar in his mind. Jar heard the call and looked around, confused as to where the voice came from until he looked back down at Obi-Wan who nodded his head to let him know that the voice was his.

“We saved his life,” Obi-Wan said. “He owes us a life debt. Your gods demand that his life belongs to us now.”

“Binks?” Nass asked in surprise, noting the surprised looks that crossed the faces of the other members of the council. “You have a life debt with this outsider?”

Jar nodded his head, realizing what Obi-Wan meant when he told him to play along. Had he not heard the voice, he would have undoubtedly protested simply to clear his name. However, it did not matter. He had sworn to himself that he would help the two Jedi in whatever way he could, and if that meant navigating through the ocean core, then that was exactly what he would do.

“His worthless life is yours, outsider,” Nass decreed, rolling his eyes and flicking his wrist towards Jar. “Now be gone with him.”

Twenty minutes later, the Bongo that the council had given them made its way out of the Gungan docks and immediately headed for the nearby ocean core. Jar sat hunched over at the controls, re-familiarizing himself with their functions and abilities. He had not driven a Bongo for some time, but he had always been skilled in their operation, so it did not take long for the necessary knowledge on how to pilot one to come flooding back to him.

The Bongo was a small underwater craft that was mostly an electrical generator, as there was no other way for the Gungans to ensure their effective operation underwater. It appeared to have been designed off of some form of squid species, but Jar had never taken the time to familiarize himself with Gungan naval history to know for sure what it was based off of. The Bongo was able to move due to having flat fins and aft metallic tentacles that rotated to produce the energy needed to propel the craft forward through the water.

Obi-Wan sat next to Jar, watching intently at the waters ahead to ensure that the Gungan did not miss any of the dangers lurking within the murky deep. Dooku, on the other hand, felt that the entire operation was a disaster waiting to happen. Why Obi-Wan decided to bring the Gungan with them was a mystery to him, as he had not even seen the slightest display of talent from him. However, he knew that Obi-Wan constantly went out of his way to try to help people if he felt that they would be of use to them later. Jar was simply another “pet project” that Dooku would have to deal with.

“Why were you banished, Jar,” Obi-Wan asked, highly intrigued by the fact that a crowned prince would simply be banished.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Jar told him, brushing off the question as if it had never been asked, as his tone hinted at embarrassment.

“Please,” Obi-Wan said, hopeful that the Gungan would share the secret with them. “If you tell us, we might be able to help you.”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Jar conceded after taking a few moments to think over whether or not he wanted to share his story with them.

“You were banished for not paying attention?” Dooku asked, trying to hold back his laughter at the admittance.

“I was guarding an ancient relic,” Jar replied, “when a female colleague approached me. Needless to say, she distracted me for too long and when I went back to my post the relic was gone.”

Jar saw the empty case of the orb as if it was right in front of him. He had seen the colleague on numerous occasions and felt that she wanted to mate with him, which was why he had allowed himself to become distracted. However, when he returned and saw that the relic was gone, he realized that the colleague had purposely distracted him and that she was working with the Utapau. She was immediately executed for treason, but Jar was banished forever from Otoh Gunga and stripped of his title of Crowned Prince of the Gungan Empire.

“What was the relic?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You Humans would call it the Kaiburr crystal,” Jar told them. “We believe that its healing powers come from our gods, but the Utapau say that it was brought to this world by a minion of a Dark Jedi called Xendor. Whatever the truth is, the Utapau wanted it badly enough to manipulate one of our people into letting them steal it.”

Obi-Wan and Dooku glanced at one another and shared a mutual look of concern at the story. They had heard the tales of Xendor Taral, the first Dark Jedi who broke away from the order only a few centuries after the formation of the Galactic Republic on Coruscant. While information on Xendor was limited, it was known that he was the most infamous Dark Jedi in history. Originally, he was a Jedi Knight from Kashi, but he was expelled from the Jedi Order due to his unorthodox methods and his intent to practice the Dark Side of the Force. After his exile, he made his way into the Unknown Regions, and all that was known about him during the decades that followed was that he gathered a group of Dark Jedi and created the Legions of Lettow. He then attempted to destroy the Jedi on Coruscant, but the legions were destroyed and Xendor was killed. No one knew what happened to his minions after the battle, though it was possible the story of the crystal was routed in fact.

Before Jar could continue his story, there was a loud thump on the stern of the Bongo. Seconds later, they realized that something struck the craft as it lurched sharply to one side. They turned back and watched as a massive sea creature with multiple legs and a massive jaw hooked onto them with a massive tongue, which caused them to move quickly towards the mouth of the immensely large creature.

“Hit that red button,” Jar shouted at Obi-Wan, who immediately complied.

A rear weapons system activated when Obi-Wan pushed the button and a massive canon emerged from the metallic structure of the ship’s stern section. As Jar pushed the throttle of the vessel forward, he fired an array of torpedoes at the creature’s midsection, causing it to collapse onto a rock face in pain. However, the creature was only momentarily stunned, as it stood back up and charged at the Bongo once again.

“Well this is fun,” Dooku whispered from the back of the ship, placing his hand on his forehead, realizing their trip was becoming a disaster after all.

Before Obi-Wan could comment on his former master’s annoying tendencies and how they were not helping the situation once again, another larger creature emerged from the shadowy depths and caught the first creature in its jaw, crushing its skull with its teeth so it could devour the large creature that it dwarfed. The long, eel-like predator grabbed the first creature with its claws and crushed it into tiny bits before swallowing it without even noticing the Bongo continue to move past it.

“There’s always a bigger fish,” Obi-Wan quipped, and the comment was one that even Dooku was forced to smile at given its irony.

With the threat of the creature gone, Jar banked hard to the left and took the vessel deeper into the abyss. The light in the Bongo became darker the deeper they moved, though that was to be expected. It did not affect Jar, however, as he continued to look for the correct route to Theed. When he found it, the vessel dove further into the deep and made its way through the entrance to a cave that, so long as they did not encounter any additional sea-killers, would bring them to the rivers that led to the capital city. All they could do was hope for the best. Dooku, more so than the others, certainly did.

Version 1
For thousands of years, Coruscant was a name that had been synonymous with the Galactic Republic, as it had always been known by the citizens of the galaxy to be the central planet of not only the government but of most economic centers that the galaxy had to offer. It had always been a planet of prosperity and poverty, as well as freedom and corruption. The rich became richer and the poor became poorer all thanks to the efforts of the Galactic Senate. However, things had changed over the thousands of years after the centuries of the Great Wars.

Most historians throughout the millennia agreed that Coruscant was the most politically important world in the galaxy. At various times, it was the capital of the Galactic Republic and the Third Sith Empire. The vast majority of the planet’s wealth was due to a number of galactic trade routes making its way through the planet, including the Corellian Run. It was one of the numerous reasons why the rich continued to become richer throughout the centuries.

Coruscant was the site of many important events throughout the history of the galaxy. The Galactic Charter was signed by Jonathan Bac, the first Supreme Chancellor twenty-five thousand years earlier, and other founding members of the Republic in what later became the Galactic Senate building. The fierce yet perhaps mythical confrontation between the minions of Xendor and the Jedi Order also took place in the capital city. The world also became the home of the Jedi Order, as well as the home of Sith Lords, such as Darth Viea and Darth Invidius, during the two instances when the Third Sith Empire was able to take over Coruscant.

One of the most recognizable landmarks on the surface was the legendary Jedi Temple, a structure that stood over a kilometer from the surface. With its unique architectural style, it was constructed around an ancient Force nexus located in a natural mountain to house the members of the legendary Jedi Order. When it was built after the end of the Great Rim Lines War, the Jedi knew that they would need to make it as reassuring to the people as the Great Jedi Pyramid had been before it was destroyed by the ancient Third Sith Empire. Because they wanted the citizens of the galaxy and their own members to feel comfortable with it, the Jedi Temple was built as a fortress yet with the appearance as a symbol of peace and justice. The exterior was a titanic ziggurat that sat upon a large empty plain, which was crowned by four spires. In the center of the four spires was one large, central spire that housed the Jedi High Council.

The spires on the temple symbolized the climb a Jedi would have to take to reach enlightenment. Each of the four smaller spires stood upon a different quarter of the Jedi Temple and each quarter represented a different purpose. The First Knowledge quarter was important in regards to the training of younglings, whereas the High Council quarter was an area in which many conference areas were built. The area around the Reassignment Tower was dedicated to the public entrance, while the Reconciliation quarter had many gardens and garages. Each were used by many different Jedi, and each served their purposes well for thousands of years.

Within one of the spartan and metallic chambers in the lower levels of the First Knowledge quarter, two blades crossed in combat. One purple and the other blue, the blades danced around the room in a spectacle of light and prowess as their combatants held them tightly. Mace Windy and Ki-Adi Mundi trained with each other often, and sometimes many even watched. They were two of the better swordsmen within the Jedi Order, and everyone knew it. It was for that reason that they enjoyed sparring with one another, always seeing who would be the victor of the day.

Mace was from the planet Haruun Kal, and after the death of his parents he was turned over to the Jedi Order. Since he was taken when he was six months old, he remembered nothing of his parents or his homeworld. Like all Jedi, Mace was trained by Jedi Master Yoda when he was a smaller learner. When he was thirteen years old, he became the padawan learner of Master T’ra Saa. During his training, he became aware of his rare ability to detect shatterpoints within the Force and how they would affect all of his future actions. With his unique ability, he was able to glimpse parts of the future, including the building of his unique violet lightsaber. Because of his unique abilities, he was appointed to the Jedi Council at the age of twenty-eight standard years, making him the youngest Jedi to ever sit on the council.

Ki-Adi Mundi was also something of a legend within the Jedi Order. He entered the Jedi Order at the age of four, far later than most, and was able to mature into a well respected Jedi Knight under Yoda’s guidance. When he was in his fifties, he had not yet taken on an apprentice as he had been busy with his assignment as the Jedi Watchman over his home sector. Despite being a Jedi Knight, the Jedi Council decided to give him a seat on the council. A Jedi Knight serving as a Jedi Council member was unprecedented and he was honored by it, if not somewhat confused. Despite serving on the council for five years, he had not yet been given the rank of Jedi Master as he had only begun to train a padawan learner after his appointment.

In the match, Mace stepped forth and swung his violet blade into the high guard. Mundi took one step backwards, angling his wrists so that his lightsaber was held horizontally in front of him. Both Jedi gave each other a smirk before Mace rushed his opponent with amazing speed. The Jedi Knight barely had time to sidestep and flick away the violet blade before mounting his own attack. He thrust his lightsaber forward towards Mace, aiming at a spot in his chest region. The Jedi Master flawlessly avoided the lightsaber by stepping to his right, and quickly stuck his foot forward, which hit Mundi on his left shoulder, knocking him backwards.

The Jedi Knight managed to tuck and roll, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he rolled. His face scrunched up in annoyance, not at his opponent but at himself for allowing himself to fall into the Master’s trap. Within a split second, Mundi had already rose from his knees and held his lightsaber in defense once more. This time he knew he had to remain more reserved and hold up his defenses before attempting to strike back. As he predicted, Mace immediately attacked once more, again with amazing speed and aggression. This time, however, Mundi’s plan changed. Instead of blocking any attack, he leaped backwards towards the wall directly behind him. He barely avoided Mace’s downward strike, which hit the gymnasium floor and left a fresh, bright red, and fiery slash imprinted.

As Mundi’s feet landed on the wall, he instantly launched himself forward into a leap, soaring over and above Mace’s head. In the sudden change of course, Mace spun around with his lightsaber ready, giving Mundi a smirk, signifying that the Cerean had made a smart move. Mace had expected such a move, however, and he too made his own leap forward with a thrust from the Force. His boots lifted from the ground, leaving a small cloud of dust where he stood, and he soon came eye to eye with Mundi. Their lightsabers clashed once more, in a rhythmic motion. Mace slashed upwards, and Mundi followed with a parry. Mace slashed downwards, and Mundi again followed.

As the two Jedi dueled, a short, green skinned Jedi Master entered the gymnasium. Standing at less than a meter of height, it would astonish any who was not a member of the Jedi Order to know that the small sentient before them was the Grandmaster of the entire Jedi Order. Yoda pressed on his wooden walking stick as he watched Mace Windy and Ki-Adi Mundi train with one another. Yoda knew that Mace was probably the best swordsman of the Jedi Order, although he greatly admired Mundi’s resolve to win the duel. Yoda simply watched on with a smile on his face, waiting patiently for the dueling Jedi to finish their training session.

The duel continued in the same pattern it had been for the last minute, with Mundi defending against each of Mace’s attacks. However, Mundi saw an opening in the Jedi Master’s pattern. He sensed that Mace was readying himself to lunge forward, and the instant it came, he sidestepped and immediately responded by slashing his lightsaber towards his right where the Jedi Master stood.

For the split second it took to side step, Mundi thought he had the victory. His confidence sparked and he couldn’t help but smile as he thought victory was imminent. Just before his strike reached his target, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his right ear. It took him a second to realize he was falling down towards the floor, and that his lightsaber was a few inches in front of him, out of his hand. When he smacked against the ground, he caught up with the situation. He realized Mace had duped him into believing that he had a chance of a successful attack, and instead easily defeated him with a simple strike from the elbow to his right ear. When Mundi looked up at his victorious foe, the Jedi Master had extended a hand out to his opponent. Mundi graciously took it and rose up from the floor.

“You did well, Ki-Adi,” Mace said with a smile, “but you’re too overconfident. You can’t always take shortcuts, remember.”

The Jedi Master winked at his defeated opponent. Ki-Adi knew that the Jedi Master was right, so all he could do was simply nod as he rubbed the side of his head. Still groggy from the fall, he knew that his day to beat Mace would arrive soon enough. For five years, they had practiced against one another every two weeks. For the entire length of the five years, Mace was always the victor. Ki-Adi had always come close, but he was simply never close enough.

“Yes, Master Windy,” Mundi said, his tone having resonated with clear embarrassment. “I’ll get you next time.”

Mace laughed at the comment in good fun, but as he and the Jedi Knight turned around his laughter immediately turned into a serious look of respect when he caught site of Yoda. Mace and Mundi approached the diminutive Jedi Master and bowed in respect. Yoda nodded his head to return the gesture, but quickly gave Mundi a look that signified that he wanted to speak with Mace in private. Mundi immediately caught the gesture and nodded in respect once again before turning to head towards the refresher.

“Still compete, do you?” Yoda asked, his tone curious and approving as it was refreshing for him to see two of the more senior members of the Jedi Council continuing to spar as if they were young Jedi Padawans.

“Every two weeks,” Mace replied. “He’s determined to beat me.”

“Great resolve, Master Mundi has,” Yoda reminded him, though his voice was distant as if he was thinking of something else. He slowly turned around, leaning on his cane for balance, and began to walk back down the hallway that he had come from.

“I agree,” Mace said, slowly following his Jedi Master, “but I don’t think that’s why you wanted to speak with me.”

“No,” Yoda told him, his voice concerned, “it is not.”

Mace stopped walking when he detected the worry in Yoda’s words, and Mace’s abrupt stop caused Yoda to quickly cease walking as well. For a moment, Mace believed that the conversation would be about his padawan learner, but Yoda’s worry told him otherwise. Mace knew that there could be only one explanation for it, as it was a topic that he two had given much thought in previous days.

“Is this about the report from the armed services committee?” Mace asked, with a highly curious tone in his voice. He wondered what else could’ve been bothering his master so much.

“It is,” Yoda told him, pausing to think back on his resources. “Dangerous and disturbing are these rumors in the Senate. What of Kamino, do you know?”

“It’s a world near the Rishi Maze,” Mace said. “They conduct cloning experiments that are considered illegal in the Republic. However, we can’t do anything about it because it’s not under our jurisdiction. Now they’re supposedly creating a clone army to prepare for an invasion of the Republic.”

“Heard these rumors as well, I have,” Yoda confirmed, though he could tell that Mace took the rumors as nothing more than such, “but more of the puzzle there is to discover. Investigate this matter, we must.”

“I agree,” Mace said, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ll travel to Kamino and investigate the matter. With luck, I’ll be able to get the Senate whatever information it needs to stop these cloners.”

Yoda nodded, agreeing to Mace’s desire to travel to Kamino. While an invasion of the Republic did not seem out of the ordinary, considering how many times the Republic had been invaded over the years, Yoda believed that there was something more sinister behind the creation of an army. While he did not know what it was, he knew full well that the Dark Side of the Force had been clouding his ability to see through the Force lately, as it had many Jedi Masters. It was as if they were bordering very close to the end times once again.

“Very well,” Yoda said, agreeing to what Mace planned on doing.

“I’ll notify my padawan,” Mace told him. “She’ll remain here while I’m on assignment.”

“How is her training?” Yoda asked curiously, his voice more upbeat than it had been while discussing the clone rumors.

“It’s going well,” Mace told him. “Padmé is learning quicker than I had imagined she would. She’s the best apprentice I’ve ever had.”

“An exceptional student, Padmé is,” Yoda said. “A great Jedi, she will become.”

Mace nodded in agreement. He had taken Padmé Naberrie as his apprentice five years earlier when she had just turned thirteen standard years old and from that moment he knew he had an exceptional padawan. It was not often than an apprentice would master the ways of the Jedi so quickly, but every few years there was one. Normally, such quick learning was a good quality as one would easily be able to adapt to different situations. Other times, however, it could lead down a path that the Jedi did not intend to take.

The path of darkness.

Version 2
Chu’unthor, the flagship of the Jedi Order that was carrying two prominent Jedi Masters home from a mission to Ansion that they had participated in, gallantly soared through the hyperspace lanes towards its destination of Coruscant. The ship was massive, measuring two kilometers long, one kilometer wide and forty meters tall. There were very few non-Jedi crew members, as many of the jobs on the vessel were carried out by Jedi Padawans and Jedi Knights.

The ship was able to accommodate up to ten thousand Jedi students, though there were certainly not that many padawans within the Order. Workshops were provided for them so they could construct and maintain their lightsabers, and meditation chambers gave everyone on board a place to be one with the Force and focus on their mental abilities. Jedi healing was taught in the medical wing so they would be able to properly heal themselves or others after tragic situations.

Originally, Chu’unthor was a hidden Jedi Praxeum that had been built by a somewhat unorthodox Jedi Master. Named after a vessel of the same name that had operated during the Great Sith Wars four thousand years earlier, it was later adopted as the flagship of the Jedi Order so it had a space-based academy. When it was integrated into the Order, it was fitted with an extensive library of texts covering the plethora of Jedi teachings, sciences, historical annals, galactic literature and encyclopedias.

While the hulking mass of the space faring academy sailed through the currents of hyperspace, two blades crossed in combat in one of the exposed sparring chambers, covered only with a transparisteel dome that allowed anyone within it to gaze into the depths of heavens. Numerous chambers on the upper levels of the ship were built this way to alleviate the sense of confinement and loneliness on long voyages. The result was a stunning and radiant effect that all hoped to see during their classes and training sessions.

When the ship was stationary, numerous sights could be seen; planets, suns and distant galaxies all seemed to be within arms length, as if the students could reach out and hold whole worlds within the palms of their hands. By always having space within eyesight, it reminded the Jedi Padawans that learned there that a Jedi’s mandate was to serve the great expanse of the galaxy rather than their own selfish wants and desires.

One purple and the other blue, the two blades danced around the wide open chamber in a spectacle of light and prowess as their wielders held them tightly. Jedi Master Mace Windy held his guard while Jedi Knight Ki-Adi Mundi futilely tried to strike against him, an attack that Mace frequently saw coming when the two Jedi often dueled with one another. They were two of the better swordsman within the Jedi Order, and most everyone knew it. It was for that reason that they enjoyed sparring one another, always seeing who would be the victor by day’s end.

The dark-skinned Mace Windy was from the planet Haruun Kal, and after the death of his parents he was turned over to the Jedi Order. Since he was taken when he was six months old, he remembered nothing of his parents or his homeworld. Like all Jedi, Mace was trained by Jedi Master Yoda when he was a smaller learner. When he was thirteen years old, he became the padawan learner of Master T’ra Saa.

During his training, Mace became aware of his rare ability to detect shatterpoints within the Force and how they would affect all of his future actions. With his unique ability, he was able to glimpse parts of the future, including the building of his unique violet lightsaber. Because of his unique abilities, he was appointed to the Jedi Council at the age of twenty-eight standard years, making him the youngest Jedi to ever sit on the Council.

Ki-Adi was also something of a legend within the Jedi Order. He entered the Jedi Order at the age of four, far later than most, and was able to mature into a well respected Jedi Knight under Yoda’s guidance. When he was in his fifties, he had not yet taken on an apprentice as he had been busy with his assignment as the Jedi Watchman over his home sector.

Despite being a Jedi Knight, the Jedi Council decided to give Ki-Adi a seat on the council. A Jedi Knight serving as a Jedi Council member was unprecedented and he was honored by it, if not somewhat confused. Despite serving on the council for five years, he had not yet been given the rank of Jedi Master as he had only begun to train a padawan learner after his appointment.

In the match, Mace stepped forth and swung his violet blade into the high guard. Ki-Adi took one step backwards, angling his wrists so that his lightsaber was held horizontally in front of him. Both Jedi gave each other a smirk before Mace rushed his opponent with amazing speed. The Jedi Knight barely had time to sidestep and flick away the violet blade before mounting his own attack. He thrust his lightsaber forward towards Mace, aiming at a spot in his chest region. The Jedi Master flawlessly avoided the lightsaber by stepping to his right, and quickly stuck his foot forward, which hit Ki-Adi on his left shoulder, knocking him backwards.

The Jedi Knight managed to tuck and roll, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he rolled. His face scrunched up in annoyance, not at his opponent but at himself for allowing himself to fall into the Master’s trap. Within a split second, Ki-Adi had already rose from his knees and held his lightsaber in defense once more. This time he knew he had to remain more reserved and hold up his defenses before attempting to strike back.

As he predicted, Mace immediately attacked once more, again with amazing speed and aggression. This time, however, Ki-Adi’s plan changed. Instead of blocking any attack, he leaped backwards towards the wall directly behind him. He barely avoided Mace’s downward strike, which hit the gymnasium floor and left a fresh, bright red, and fiery slash imprinted.

As Ki-Adi’s feet landed on the wall, he instantly launched himself forward into a leap, soaring over and above Mace’s head. In the sudden change of course, Mace spun around with his lightsaber ready, giving Ki-Adi a smirk, signifying that the Cerean had made a smart move. Mace had expected such a move, however, and he too made his own leap forward with a thrust from the Force. His boots lifted from the ground, leaving a small cloud of dust where he stood, and he soon came eye to eye with Ki-Adi. Their lightsabers clashed once more, in a rhythmic motion. Mace slashed upwards, and Ki-Adi followed with a parry. Mace slashed downwards, and Ki-Adi again followed.

As the two Jedi dueled, a short, green skinned Jedi Master entered the gymnasium. Standing at less than a meter of height, it would astonish any who was not a member of the Jedi Order to know that the small sentient before them was the Grandmaster of the entire Jedi Order. Yoda pressed on his wooden walking stick as he watched Mace Windy and Ki-Adi Ki-Adi train with one another. Yoda knew that Mace was probably the best swordsman of the Jedi Order, although he greatly admired Ki-Adi’s resolve to win the duel. Yoda simply watched on with a smile on his face, waiting patiently for the dueling Jedi to finish their training session.

The duel continued in the same pattern it had been for the last minute, with Ki-Adi defending against each of Mace’s attacks. However, Ki-Adi saw an opening in the Jedi Master’s pattern. He sensed that Mace was readying himself to lunge forward, and the instant it came, he sidestepped and immediately responded by slashing his lightsaber towards his right where the Jedi Master stood.

For the split second it took to side step, Ki-Adi thought he had the victory. His confidence sparked and he couldn’t help but smile as he thought victory was imminent. Just before his strike reached his target, he suddenly felt a sharp pain on his right ear. It took him a second to realize he was falling down towards the floor, and that his lightsaber was a few inches in front of him, out of his hand. When he smacked against the ground, he caught up with the situation. He realized Mace had duped him into believing that he had a chance of a successful attack, and instead easily defeated him with a simple strike from the elbow to his right ear. When Ki-Adi looked up at his victorious foe, the Jedi Master had extended a hand out to his opponent. Ki-Adi graciously took it and rose up from the floor.

“You did well, Ki-Adi,” Mace said with a friendly smile, “but you’re too overconfident. You can’t always take shortcuts.”

Ki-Adi knew that the Jedi Master was right, so all he could do was simply nod as he rubbed the side of his head. Still groggy from the fall, he knew that his day to beat Mace would arrive soon enough. For five years, they had practiced against one another every two weeks. For the entire length of the five years, Mace was always the victor. Ki-Adi had always come close, but he was simply never close enough.

“Yes, Master Windy,” Ki-Adi said, his tone having resonated with clear embarrassment, “but I’ll get you next time.”

Mace laughed off the comment in good fun, but as he and the Jedi Knight turned around his laughter immediately turned into a serious look of respect when he caught sight of Yoda. The two Jedi approached the diminutive green Jedi Grandmaster and bowed in respect. Yoda nodded his head to return the gesture, but immediately gave Ki-Adi a look that signaled that he wished to speak to Mace in private. The Jedi Knight caught the gesture and nodded in respect once more before he turned to head towards a nearby refresher.

“Still compete, do you?” Yoda asked, his tone reflecting both his curiosity and approval. It was refreshing for him to see two of the more senior members of the Jedi Council continue to hold practice sparring sessions as if they were young Jedi Padawans trying to gain good standing within the Order.

“Every two weeks,” Mace replied, catching his breath as he spoke. “He’s determined to beat me.”

“Great resolve, Master Mundi has,” Yoda reminded him, though his voice was distant as if he was thinking of something else. He slowly turned around, leaning on his cane for balance, and began to walk through the open door into the wide open and high-ceilinged corridor on the other side of it.

“I agree,” Mace said, slowly following the Grandmaster out into the large black and shiny hallway, though the black and gray colors on the wall were still vibrant thanks to the large amounts of light that poured into it, “but I don’t think that’s why you wanted to talk to me.”

“No,” Yoda told him with concern in his voice, “it is not.”

Mace stopped walking when he detected the worry in Yoda’s words, and Mace’s abrupt stop caused Yoda to quickly cease walking as well. For a moment, Mace believed that the conversation would be about his padawan learner, but Yoda’s worry told him otherwise. Mace knew that there could be only one explanation for it, as it was a topic that he too had given much thought in previous days.

“Is this about the report from the Armed Services Committee?” Mace asked with a highly curious tone in his voice, wondering what else could have been bothering the Grandmaster so much.

“It is,” Yoda told him, pausing to think back on his sources. “Dangerous and disturbing are these rumors in the Senate. What of Kamino, do you know?”

“It’s a world near the Rishi Maze,” Mace replied as well as he could. “They conduct cloning experiments that are illegal in the Republic, but we can’t do anything about them because it’s not in our jurisdiction. Now they’re supposedly creating a clone army to invade the Republic.”

“Heard these rumors as well, I have,” Yoda confirmed, though he could tell that Mace believed that they were more than just rumors, “but more of the puzzle is there still to discover.”

“Master,” Mace said quietly and cautiously as he moved in closer to Yoda, as what he was about to ask was likely to be met with some abrasiveness, “do you think this has anything to do with those of whom we do not speak?”

Yoda was surprised that Mace had asked him that question. There were very few people who knew of those of whom they did not speak, and those that did know did not frequently discuss them unless they had to. Yoda and Mace were two of those few, and they had only spoken of it on rare occasions. Yoda’s personal experiences taught him not to speak of them or get involved, as it only led to dangerous situations for the Jedi.

“No,” Yoda said somewhat forcefully. “To do with the truth, this does not. Further investigate this matter, we must.”

“Agreed,” Mace told him, though he was still not completely convinced that what he had asked was wrong. “I’ll go to Kamino and find out what I can about the clone army. With luck, I’ll be able to get the Senate whatever they need to stop it.”

Yoda nodded, agreeing to Mace’s desire to travel to Kamino. While an invasion of the Republic did not seem out of the ordinary, considering how many times the Republic had been invaded over the years, Yoda believed that there was something more sinister behind the creation of an army. He too was not convinced that his dismissal of those of whom they did not speak was accurate, but he knew full well that the dark side of the Force had been clouding his ability to see through the Force lately, as it had many Jedi Masters. It was as if they were bordering very close to the end times once again.

“Very well,” Yoda said, agreeing to what Mace planned on doing.

“I’ll notify my padawan,” Mace told him. “She’ll remain here while I’m on assignment.”

“How is her training?” Yoda asked curiously, his voice more upbeat than it had been while discussing the clone rumors.

“It’s going well,” Mace told him. “Padmé is learning quicker than I had imagined she would. She’s the best apprentice I’ve ever had.”

“An exceptional student, Padmé is,” Yoda said. “A great Jedi, she will become.”

Mace nodded in agreement. He had taken Padmé Naberrie as his apprentice five years earlier when she had just turned thirteen standard years old and from that moment he knew he had an exceptional padawan. It was not often than an apprentice would master the ways of the Jedi so quickly, but every few years there was one. Normally, such quick learning was a good quality as one would easily be able to adapt to different situations. Other times, however, it could lead down a path that the Jedi did not intend to take: the path of darkness.

Before Mace and Yoda could walk off in their separate directions, Mace preparing to fetch a starfighter and Yoda intending to return to his meditations, the door to a small crew office opened. The door shot straight up into the ceiling with the intensity of repulsor-lift technology, and as it did a young Jedi Knight named Geith was revealed to be directly behind it.

Behind Geith was a group of technicians dutifully working on and monitoring the systems of the ship. A small holographic protector remained deactivated in the center of the room, which indicated that it was used as a small war room during times of great turmoil. Mace had visited the flagship infrequently during his time as a Jedi, but he suspected that the last time it had been used as a war room was during the Stark Hyperspace War of years prior.

Holding a datapad, Geith stepped out into the brightly lit black and gray hallway to speak with his two Jedi Masters, whom he had been assigned to assist with anything they needed during their brief stay on the ship. He was a Human male with tan skin and rust colored hair who had been recruited to the Jedi Order on Bespin when he was a young boy. He was somewhat strangely dressed for a Jedi of his era, wearing a full blue tunic with blue gloves very much reminiscent of the standard issue dress for Jedi Knights during the Jedi Civil War of nearly four thousand years prior. He felt that it reflected the golden age of the Jedi, which he believed they were no longer in, and a time when the Jedi were far nobler.

Many Jedi Masters took note of Geith’s opinion and his choice of attire, though they had chosen not to do anything about it. In their opinions, although he was somewhat arrogant, feeling that he wanted to uphold the best principles of the Jedi Order was of no concern to them. Some even agreed with his assessment of the current Jedi Order, though they chose to remain silent on that out of embarrassment.

“Masters,” Geith said once he had exited the offices, “I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be arriving in orbit of Coruscant in just under an hour. Is there anything else I can do for you while you’re onboard?”

“Nothing more do I require, young Knight,” Yoda told him with a slight nod to indicate his approval of Geith’s performance as their caretakers.

“Master Windy?” Geith asked as he turned towards the dark-skinned Jedi Master.

“Have the docking bay prepare a starfighter,” Mace told him, though conveniently omitting why he needed one. “I won’t be returning to Coruscant today after all.”

“Yes, Master Windy,” Geith said, punching a few commands into his datapad so that the docking bay would be able to instantly prepare a fighter. “Padawan Hadaack will be there to assist you with whatever you need.”

As Geith bowed and turned back towards the offices, he could not help but wonder why Mace was changing his itinerary. Although Jedi Councilors certainly did not need to answer to a Jedi Knight such as Geith, he still wondered why there was such a deviation. He knew that no communications had been received from the Jedi High Council, so obviously Mace had his own matters to attend to. Whatever they were was not Geith’s business, though as he stepped back into the office and the door slid shut once again he could not help but be curious.

“I’ll report back to you once I make contact with the Kaminoans,” Mace told the small, pointed-eared Jedi Master. “I’ll try not to be too long.”

“Not authorized by the Council, this mission is,” Yoda reminded him. “In our best interests it will be for you to learn quickly about them what you can.”

Understanding exactly what the Jedi Grandmaster was saying, Mace bowed in respect. As Yoda began to walk away, Mace too went in an opposite direction towards the nearest elevator shaft that would take him to the docking bay. As he stepped inside of it, he could feel the ship rock slightly before returning to a feeling of normality. Obviously to him, the ship had dropped out of hyperspace, as was protocol when another vessel was preparing to leave the docking bay of a craft that was traveling through hyperspace lanes.

As the elevator made its way towards the lower levels, Mace tried to contemplate what he could expect when he arrived on Kamino, though it did not take him long to realize that he really did not know anything more than what he had told Yoda. Although he knew there was pertinent information in the Jedi Archives, ones that he would likely read on his voyage to Kamino, he would still likely encounter many surprises on the small and watery world.

When it came to a slow stop, the elevator opened its doors and Mace stepped out into the docking bay. It was a vast and wide open area of the vessel made mostly out of the same black and gray material that the rest of the ship was made out of. The floor was completely see-through, allowing whoever was standing upon it to gaze at the stars below them. The furthest wall on the port side of the ship was also opened, covered only by a shield that kept the bay pressurized. In the distance, Mace could make out a nearby star that likely housed numerous planets and, potentially, sentient forms of life.

When he noticed that Mace had entered the bay, the young, long-haired Jedi Padawan Crispin Hadaack looked up from the console he was working on and began to walk towards him. A docking bay technician was not a job that Crispin had expected to be assigned, though he understood the necessity of it. The Jedi Order believed that all of their apprentices would be able to learn to understand the common man better if they were to frequently rotate jobs that many common people held. Though Crispin was somewhat irritated at having to do such a minor job, as he felt that he was very much above such jobs, he still carried it out to the best of his abilities.

Mace noticed Crispin walking towards him and watched him with some suspicion, though he never understood why he did it. It was nothing personal against the young man, but rather Mace simply felt that Crispin needed a minor change in attitude to become a Jedi Knight. Crispin was highly respected throughout the Order as many believed that he represented the ideals of a true Jedi Knight. That also caused some arrogance within him, as did the fact that he believed he would become a Jedi Knight at any time, despite being only twenty years old.

Even though Mace no doubt recognized that Crispin was a highly skilled student, he also knew that the young man sometimes did, in fact, ignore parts of Jedi philosophy. Crispin sometimes preferred solutions and situations that were quick and reckless, some of them going against the ideals that a true Jedi was supposed to uphold. Nevertheless, he was still a skilled student, especially with a lightsaber. Mace had frequently seen him showing off his skills in the training chambers of the Jedi Temple while others were in his presence.

“Master Windy,” the tall and fit Jedi Padawan said as he approached, “the fighter that you requested is ready.”

“Thank you, padawan,” Mace said as he began to walk towards the craft on the far left side of the docking bay.

The small Delta-7 starfighter that was floating above the docking bay floor was an evolutionary descendant of the ancient Aurek fighter. Surrounded by a hyperspace ring that would allow it to travel long distances, it was a sleek interceptor given to Jedi for use during reconnaissance missions, though it was fitted with weapons for if and when the situation called for them. The red color of the triangular starfighter represented the diplomatic immunity that it had been granted by the Republic Judicial Department.

Stepping into the cockpit, Mace placed the standard gold headset of a Jedi pilot onto his bald head so he would be able to communicate with the small droid in the cavity on the left wing of the vessel, as well as anyone else who contacted him during the flight to Kamino. After checking over the pre-flight checks that the Jedi technicians had carried out satisfactorily, Mace ignited the engines of the starfighter and blue flames shot out from the rear engines as they roared to life.

The craft rose higher above the glassy surface while the other people in the bay cleared the area. Once they were safely on the other side of the walls, the shield dropped and Mace rocketed forward into space. Moving to a safe distance, he caught the roar of Chu'unthor’s engines as it shot back into hyperspace, and moments later he too ignited his engines and picked up the currents of a hyperspace lane traveling towards the Rishi Maze where he would find Kamino.

Chapter 6: Escape
War was a dirty business and the people of Utapau quickly realized how fortunate they were to have a planet that had not been touched by an outside war since the Mandalorian invasion over thirty-five hundred years earlier. However, within a matter of hours, things had quickly changed. Long columns of battle droids from the Federation army marched down the main roads of Theed. STAPs and droid starfighters flew overhead, and MTTs stood guard outside of the city.

Battle droids and Droidekas had made their way into each building and pulled out the citizens from within them. All throughout the streets, people were herded out of their homes and brought towards the edge of the city. There was mass confusion and panic and people were shouting in fear. One woman lost her calm demeanor and turned to face her battle droid guard and grabbed its metallic neck. In a pre-programmed defense maneuver, the battle droid pulled the trigger on its blaster and the woman fell to the ground in a pool of blood. The people in the area screamed and huddled together, though they had little choice but to continue down the streets at the droid’s orders.

On the outskirts of the city, numerous structures were taking shape while under construction from droid workers. They were large, fenced-in areas with barrack buildings and guard towards visible from within. Essentially, they were concentration camps that would be used to subjugate the people of Utapau for as long as necessary. Battle droids herded numerous people into them, their emotional-less faces and programming showing no remorse for their actions.

Just outside the palace, the claw-footed landing legs of a Neimoidian transport touched down on the streets. Manufactured by Haol Chall Engineering, the ship was shaped like a soldier beetle in an effort to frighten enemies. The craft was flown by an automatic pilot so the cabin space could be increased, and it was only used for planetary travel or to ferry passengers to and from starships in orbit. It had no weapons, though it was protected by an energy shield system.

When the engines of the transport deactivated, a hatch on the port side unlatched itself from the sides of the craft and a docking ramp descended towards the hard stone ground. When the ramp touched the ground, Nute Gunray limped down it, with Rune Haako just behind him. Gunray was bruised, battered and was forced to walk with a cane as his leg had been broken by the torture, though he knew never to disobey Maul ever again. He did not believe that even the man who claimed to be a Lord of the Sith would go so far as to torture the Viceroy of the Trade Federation, though he had clearly been proven wrong.

Gunray looked around the surrounding area as he took in the fresh air of the morning. While Utapau certainly differed from his homeworld of Cato Neimoidia, he could feel a sense of calmness on the lush and peaceful world. It put his mind at ease, and the soft breeze helped him forget about the pain that he still felt from the brutality of Lord Maul. However, as OOM-9 approached him, he quickly remembered why he had landed on the planet in the first place.

“Viceroy,” OOM-9 monotone voice said, “we have captured the queen.”

Before Gunray could respond in glee, his attention turned to the grand staircase at the foot of the palace. Queen Arcadia, her advisers and handmaidens all emerged from within and immediately began walking down towards the streets. Each of them was held at gun point by a battle droid, and none of them showed any emotion whatsoever. It was as if what was happening was not affecting them, but Gunray knew that they were simply trying to appear strong in the face of such adversity.

“We brought you out of your chambers for a purpose, your Highness,” Gunray said when the royal party finally arrived in the streets.

“I was not brought anywhere,” Arcadia told him, with a cold, harsh tone. “This is my planet and I do not recognize your authority.”

“It’s bad enough that you cut off all communication,” Sio Bibble said before anyone could respond, his tone greatly aggravated, “and bad enough that you pretended that this blockade was legal. But to land an army here and occupy us? How will you explain this invasion to the Senate?”

In his decades of politics, Sio Bibble had never seen anything quite like the invasion of his planet. He was a learned man, a philosopher and an outspoken pacifist, though he recognized full well that there came a time when one would have to defend their sovereignty. As the Governor of Theed, he offered sound advice to the queen and sat at the head of the Advisory Council. He dealt with regional representatives daily and also met with town officials from Theed. He knew others thought it was a boring job, but he could not have thought of anything else he would have rather done.

“The queen and I will sign a treaty,” Gunray told him. “It will legitimize our occupation here. I have assurances that it will be ratified by the Senate.”

“A treaty?” Bibble asked questionably. “In this blatant act of war?”

“I will not cooperate,” Arcadia told the viceroy, without a hint of fear in her voice.

“Now, now, your Highness,” Gunray said, confidently. “I hear you are compassionate and wise. In time, the suffering of your people will persuade you to see our point of view.”

As the viceroy spoke, Arcadia could hear a scream coming from the distant corners of the city. She did not want to know who was screaming or why they were screaming, as the knowledge would undoubtedly bend her resolve and she would not allow that. In the face of such grave danger, she could not afford to have her will broken by one such as the Neimoidian viceroy.

“Do whatever you want,” Arcadia said, her tone determined. “I won’t surrender.”

“If that’s what you wish,” Gunray said as he turned to OOM-9. “Commander, process them.”

“Yes, Viceroy,” OOM-9 replied while turning to another battle droid. “Corporal, take them to Camp Four.”

Immediately, the droid guards began to lead the royal entourage through the streets towards Internment Camp Four, one of the first to have been finished on the scheduled that the Federation had set. As they made their way through the streets and into the main plaza, Arcadia and her followers finally realized the scope of the situation they were in. The plaza was filled with battle droids and droid tanks, as well as droid starfighters that had landed.

The queen lowered her head in shame as she walked, realizing the mistakes she had made in both policy and personal judgment. She could see that, despite his misguiding reasoning, her father was right when he made the decision to expand the armed forces of the planet. She had kept the N-1 Starfighter Corps, but she had relied too heavily on negotiation to take a stand against the invaders, though she knew that such a stand would not have made a difference. Had she simply trusted in her late father’s judgment, the invasion could have been avoided, or at least repelled.

Arcadia’s head jolted up as she saw two blades of pure energy ignite from the hands of the two men standing directly before them. Four battle droids were instantly cut down by the assailant’s weapons, and droids continued to move forward towards them only to be cut down by the lightsabers belonging to who the queen assumed were Jedi Knights. Their companion was clearly a Gungan, and he fought the battle droids with his bare hands, dodging laser fire in order to snap the necks of the battle droids. He was far braver than the stereotypical Gungan she had heard about, but she had never actually met a Gungan before.

“Grab their weapons,” Panaka commanded to his men, whom did as he asked. Jar also picked up one of the blasters dropped by the fallen battle droids.

“We should leave the streets, your Highness,” one of the Jedi said to her after deactivating his lightsaber.

“Who are you?” Arcadia asked. She was suddenly a lot more hopeful than she had been seconds earlier.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Obi-Wan told her before motioning towards Dooku and Jar. “These are my companions, Master Jard Dooku and Jar Binks. Dooku and I are ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor.”

“Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador,” Bibble said, scoffing at the Jedi.

“The negotiations never took place,” Dooku said, watching as a great look of worry crossed over Bibble’s face.

“Your Highness,” Obi-Wan said, “it’s urgent that we make contact with Coruscant.”

“They’ve knocked out all our communications,” Captain Panaka said as he stepped forward from the crowd of guards.

“Do you have a transport?” Dooku asked, seemingly unworried.

“In the main hangar,” Panaka said, motioning to a nearby entryway. “This way.”

Panaka quickly led the group into the entryway. After a few series of halls, they arrived just outside the docking bay. Obi-Wan and Dooku looked inside, noticing the queen’s royal starship immediately. It was a Type J-327 Utapaun, a craft reserved for use only by the sovereign people of the planet. The small silver starship, having no weapons, perfectly embodied the glory of the royalty and the noble spirit of the common citizens of Utapau. The glory of the design was perverted, however, by the sight of over two dozen battle droids guarding it and the pilots.

“There’s too many of them,” Panaka whispered.

“That won’t be a problem,” Dooku told him, nodding to Obi-Wan who quickly returned the nod with a smile. “Your Highness, under the circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Arcadia said, “but my place is with my people.”

“They will kill you if you stay,” Obi-Wan said bluntly, causing the guards to become worried for the queen’s safety.

“They wouldn’t dare,” Bibble said, almost outraged at the suggestion.

“They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion of theirs legal,” Panaka told the Jedi. “They can’t afford to kill her.”

“There’s something else behind all this,” Obi-Wan told them. “There’s no logic in the Federation’s move here. My feelings tell me they will destroy you.”

“They can just appoint another ruler,” Jar said, speaking up from behind the Jedi, “one who will sign their treaty.”

A flash of alarm crossed over Bibble’s face. While he held no true prejudice against the Gungan people, he had always thought them to be arrogant and selfish. It came as a surprise to him to see Jar make such a bold yet more than likely true suggestion, but he was glad the situation was made. He had almost demanded that the queen stay on Utapau, but his instincts told him that the Gungan was right.

“Perhaps he’s right,” Bibble said, turning to the queen. “Our only hope is for the Senate to side with us. Senator Palpatine will need your help.”

Arcadia lowered her head, thinking hard about whether or not she wanted to leave her people. One of the first things she had told herself when she became queen was that she would never, under any circumstances, abandon here people, but the question in her mind was whether or not she was truly abandoning them. She had to ask herself whether she would be abandoning them or simply saving them from afar. In the end, she knew that she had only one option and that she had no choice but to take it.

“Then I’ll plead our case to the Senate,” Arcadia decided.

Bibble nodded, not needing to say anything as he knew Arcadia could tell that he had absolute faith in her ability to convince the Senate of their plight and to reverse it. Stepping forward, Bibble pushed a button next to the door and the hangar bay doors slid open. As the group began to walk through, Bibble watched the queen intently, knowing that it could be the last time he ever saw her. In the end, though, he knew never to underestimate Sabé Arcadia.

“We’ll need to free those pilots,” Panaka said as they walked through the hangar, pointing to group of pilots that were being held on the ground by the battle droids.

“I’ll deal with that,” Obi-Wan said, walking towards the pilots as Dooku led the rest of the group to the guard at the ramp of the royal starship.

“Halt,” the guard said, reaching its robotic hand outward to tell them to stop.

“I’m an ambassador for the Supreme Chancellor,” Dooku told the droid, “and I’m taking these people with me to Coruscant.”

“Where are you taking them?” the battle droid asked.

“To Coruscant,” Dooku repeated, his tone slightly irritated.

“Coruscant?” the battle droid asked. “That doesn’t compute. You’re under arrest.”

Before the droids could draw their weapons, Dooku’s emerald blade came to life and cut the guards down. On the other end of the hangar, Obi-Wan’s blue blade sliced through the droids that were guarding the pilots, easily dispatching them. The guards jumped to their feet and quickly ran to the ship, followed closely by Obi-Wan. Once everyone was safely aboard, Dooku and Obi-Wan prepared to close the ramp. Just as they were doing so, a squadron of droids rushed into the hangar, but they were too late. The ramp closed just as the ship thrust itself out of the hangar, making its way towards the blockade in space.

In the cockpit, sensor lights began to flash as the vessel made its way through the atmosphere. Even in the lower levels of it, the ship could still detect the blockade in orbit. Ric Olie, the senior pilot of the N-1 Starfighter Corps, quickly made his way into the cockpit. Panaka, Jar and the two Jedi made their way in after him, arriving just in time to see the cloud layers of the atmosphere give way to the darkness of space and the ominous view of the Federation blockade.

“This is where the fun begins,” Olie quipped, though he had no time for laughter or even the slightest bit of amusement as the alarms began to sound. “Hang on!”

A barrage of deadly laser bolts began to pummel the bow of the ship. The vessel rocked back and forth as Olie attempted to fly with evasive maneuvers, though it was difficult for a ship of that size and design. One group of laser bolts continued to slam into the center of the ship, causing the shield generator to greatly weaken and, quickly thereafter, fail completely. If it could not be fixed, the ship would be a sitting duck in space for the Federation to capture or destroy.

In the main droid holding area, the alarm lights began to flash, causing the astromech droids to activate. They each made their way over to different tubes, becoming sucked up out of the craft and onto the hull. It did not take long for the droids to be blasted away one by one, quicker than anyone had thought they would be. However, each droid diligently worked on the generator, not feeling any fear within their metallic and pre-programmed shells.

Finally, only one droid remained. It was a small blue and white droid of the R2-series of astromech droids produced by Industrial Automation. The rounded, waist-high droid was designed to work in and around space vessels as diagnostic and repair units. It served its purpose incredibly well and, just as all hope seemed lost, was able to connect the final relays and activate the shield generator. The droid turned to see the blockade before letting out a worried beep and heading back to the entrance.

“Power’s back,” Olie shouted. “That little droid did it! He bypassed the main power drive. Deflector shields are at maximum.”

“Move in close,” Dooku told him. “Hug the hull of the battleships. They won’t be able to hit us without hitting themselves.”

The ship moved in close to the battleships and the firing immediately ceased, just as Dooku had predicted it would. When the vessel was at a safe distance once again, Olie thrust the hyperdrive controls forward and the ship rocketed away from Utapau and the Trade Federation blockade. Obi-Wan stepped up beside him, looking through the star chart on a smaller monitor. Olie turned to the other monitor and looked over the controls and performed a diagnostic, not wanting anything else to go wrong. Despite Olie’s best hopes, something was still wrong.

“There’s not enough power to get us to Coruscant,” Olie said. “The hyperdrive engine’s leaking.”

“We’ll have to land somewhere to refuel and repair the ship,” Dooku said.

“Tatooine,” Obi-Wan said, believing he found the safest option, “a desert world. It’s small, out of the way, poor. The Trade Federation has no presence there.”

“How can you be sure?” Panaka asked, clearly doubting Obi-Wan’s knowledge.

“It’s controlled by the Hutts,” Obi-Wan told him, standing upright once again.

“You can’t take Her Royal Highness there,” Panaka shouted. “The Hutts are gangsters. If they discovered her -”

“It would be no different than if we landed on a system controlled by the Federation,” Dooku reminded him, “except the Hutts aren’t looking for her. It gives us the advantage.”

“Set course for Tatooine,” Obi-Wan ordered.

Chapter 7: Tatooine
Captain Panaka was a well trained and reasonably level-headed man. He was born on Utapau, but had been educated off-world in a broad spectrum of subjects and abilities that were needed to become a security officer. For sometime, he was a member of the Republic Special Task Force, where he gained combat experience against pirate raiders. The experience proved extremely effective when he returned to Utapau and joined the Royal Utapau Security Forces, where he eventually climbed the ranks to serve as the head of palace security for both Queen Arcadia and her immediate predecessor and father.

Panaka stood before the queen, with the small astromech droid that saved the ship standing right beside him. Panaka did not realize until only hours earlier how useful a droid truly was. The fact that they were alive was a true testament to the abilities of the blue and white droid beside him.

“An extremely well put together little droid,” Panaka told the queen. “Without a doubt, it saved the ship and our lives.”

“It’s to be commended,” Arcadia said. “What is its number?”

“It says,” Panaka said, leaning down to see the number on the back while the droid let out a small whistle, “R2-D2, your highness.”

“Thank you, Artoo Detoo,” the queen said before turning to the two Jedi who were standing in the corner, as she knew that they too wished to speak.

“Your highness,” Obi-Wan said, “we’re headed for a remote planet called Tatooine. It’s a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation. We’ll be able to make repairs and then travel in to Coruscant.”

While Panaka may have been a reasonably level-headed man, he could not agree with Obi-Wan and Dooku in their decision to travel to the desert world. He knew for a fact that the Hutts were incredibly dangerous and would love more than nothing to have a ruling monarch as one of their slave girls. The idea was foolish, to say the least, and he could only hope that the queen would trust him.

“I do not agree with the Jedi on this,” Panaka said boldly. “Tatooine is very dangerous. It’s controlled by an alliance of gangs called the Hutts, which I know you’re aware of.”

“You must trust our judgment, your Highness,” Dooku told her, asserting superiority in his voice.

Arcadia leaned back on her makeshift throne to think over whether or not it was an acceptable risk. On one hand, the Hutts were an extremely violent people and she could be at great risk if they discovered her. On the other hand, she had to get as far away from the Trade Federation as possible, and making her way to a Republic world where the Trade Federation had a presence would be even more dangerous. In her mind, there was only one clear option.

“Alert me once we reach Tatooine,” Arcadia said, causing Panaka to drop his head and let out a deep sigh as the Jedi bowed in respect.

For the first time, Nute Gunray looked into the throne room of the royal palace. He had been on the surface for hours, but he had other administrative matters he had needed to attend to first. As he stepped in, he could see just why it had the reputation that it did. Magnificent tapestries hung from the walls and numerous busts of numerous Utapaun royal family members from over the centuries lined the hallways leading to the two entry points.

Setting his cane aside, Gunray slowly rose onto the seat of Utapaun power. Only hours earlier, Queen Arcadia had occupied the throne. It was amazing to him how quickly things could change, and that did not just apply to changes of power. The last he had seen the queen, she was being escorted, along with her handmaidens and advisors, to the internment camp on the edge of the city. Not even fifteen minutes later, he was told that the queen had disappeared and might have made it past the blockade in orbit.

No sooner had he thought about how Lord Maul would take the news did a holographic image of the supposed Lord of the Sith appear before him. Gunray knew that Maul would not be pleased with him for allowing the queen to escape, especially after he had already failed him. If there was one comfort to the viceroy, though, it was that he was on the surface and Maul was in orbit, so there would be no immediate way for the dark one to punish him.

“Report, Viceroy,” Maul said in a cold yet eager tone.

“We control all the cities in the north,” Gunray told him, masking his fear, “and we’re searching for any other settlements.”

“Destroy all high ranking officials,” Maul said. “Do it slowly and quietly, except for Queen Arcadia. Has she signed the treaty?”

“She has disappeared, my lord,” Gunray said, no longer able to hold back his fear. “One cruiser got past the blockade.”

“The Jedi?” Maul asked, seemingly unmoved by Gunray's failure.

“They found their way to her and overpowered the guards,” Gunray said.

“Find her,” Maul said, his voice becoming more irritated with each passing second. “I want that treaty signed now.”

“The ship’s out of our range,” Gunray said. “It’s impossible to locate it.”

“Not for a Sith,” Maul said with a twisted and sadistic grin just before the hologram faded back into the nothingness that it came from, leaving the Neimoidian viceroy to ponder just what he meant by his words.

Tatooine.

It was the planet of limitless sand, or so many travelers had said. It was thought to have been one of the oldest planets in known space. Because it orbited two suns, it was covered in deserts and rocky formations. The days were so brightly lit that the planet, to those from a distance in space, would appear to be a third star if looked at from the right angle. It was how Tatooine was originally discovered. Explorers believed it to be a star so they moved in closer to study it only to be amazed when they found that it was actually a planet.

Very little of the planet was habitable to Humans outside the northern areas of the northern hemisphere, and one could only stay in the other regions of the planet for so long before succumbing to the violent temperatures and massive sandstorms. Only one percent of the planet was covered in surface water, though fossil records did indicate that the planet was once covered in large oceans that dried up, leaving many geographical features that were well known to the planet’s inhabitants.

Numerous different sentient species from all across the galaxy made up the inhabitants of the planet. Most of the non-Humans tended to stay in cantinas where they could go to the bar or gamble, as the inhabitants of the planet loved to gamble. The majority of the gambling was on swoop racers, one of the most dangerous games on the planet. It was a testament to the fact that the planet had long been controlled by the vile Hutts.

In the cockpit of the royal starship, Obi-Wan and Ric Olie watched as the desert world grew larger in the window. Dooku and Panaka stood behind them, looking over their shoulders at the ground maps that Olie had brought up on the monitors. There were not many large settlements where they would be able to make repairs, though they did not want to go to too large of a settlement.

“Land a few kilometers outside of this settlement,” Dooku said as he pointed towards the location on the monitor. “Anchorhead.”

Olie nodded and immediately began punching in the coordinates for the landing. It did not take long to realize, though, that the short range navigation sensors had been knocked offline. Switching to manual, an additional control panel slid from beneath the main console and a control stick emerged from the center of it. Olie grabbed hold of it and began to bring the ship in, angling it just in the right position so it would enter the atmosphere without bouncing off or burning up.

Even with the slight risk, Olie was able to guide the ship through the atmosphere with ease, at which point he turned his attention to the maps that had been in the ship’s database. While the navigation sensors were down, he had a fairly certain idea of where he had entered the planet, enough so that he would be able to successfully guide the ship to Anchorhead.

On the surface of the desert world, the suns scorched down upon the planet with a ferocious intensity. The day was hot and laborious to travel through, and even the locals who were used to the extreme heat felt exhausted. The suns themselves seemed to bore into the skin of those who dared enter into its malicious rays, not caring for the silent torment that came with it. Even so, very few ventured out into the midday suns on such a day unless they had to. Needless to say, very few found a reason to make themselves go outside.

One such person was Annikin Skywalker, an eighteen year old man sitting at a booth in the back of the local cantina. Annikin had a relatively muscular build, mostly from working with heavy equipment for most of his life. He had short, combed back brown hair and stood at nearly two meters in height. He was well respected in Anchorhead as a man of character, though he did not tend to interact with people unless he knew them well or felt that they needed help. He preferred to keep to himself, probably a result of spending so much time working on the moisture vaporators on his family’s moisture farm a few kilometers from the settlement.

Annikin took a sip of his water, savoring the refreshingly cool feeling as it slid down his throat. While some would have found such an idea barbaric, water was essentially a treasure on Tatooine. It had not rained in the habitable area of the planet for over eighteen years, and no one knew why. All they knew was that moisture farming was becoming harder and harder and many citizens would be forced to use what money they had to move off world or die of thirst and starvation on a desert wasteland. Annikin himself intended to leave as soon as he could, though he would take his family with him.

Turning to the window, Annikin looked out into the Anchorhead settlement. It was one of the oldest settlements on the planet, having stood for over four thousand years. It was originally a mining facility used for many notable organizations, including Czerka Corporation, and was abandoned and resettled numerous times due to the poor quality of the ore. Czerka abandoned it because of the hostility from the Tusken Raiders, as well as the low-quality ore, and the settlement nearly collapsed because of it. Despite the hard times, the people were able to make it a successful center for moisture farmers, though it began to decline once again because of the lack of rainfall.

Annikin had heard many stories about the settlement. One of them was from a Republic pilot that he and his friends met at a cantina when they were children. The pilot told them an ancient legend that said a powerful Jedi Knight landed at Anchorhead during a war with the Sith and found a hidden star map that supposedly told him the location of an ancient super-weapon. Annikin did not know what to make of it, but if it was true then it would have come as a surprise to him. He always saw Tatooine as insignificant on a galactic scale and could not fathom that it held such a great importance to the Jedi Knights.

Annikin tilted the glass back and took the final sip of water before slamming it back down on the table and wiping off the few drops of water from around his lips. He stood up and walked over to the bar, throwing a few credits onto the counter for the water. He knew he shouldn’t have spent the little personal spending money he had on something he could have gotten at home, but he simply couldn’t have continued on with his day without the glass of water.

He was nearly to the door when he noticed the Rodian barkeeper behind the counter turn and look at him with an angry look. The green Rodian was strange looking to Humans, just as every member of the reptilian-like species was. They had distinctive faces with multifaceted eyes, ears resembling a horned instrument and a flexible snout. A ridge of flexible spines were visible on their skull, most differing in volume. It was an odd appearance to many non-Rodians, though most assumed that Rodians assumed the same about them.

“Wanta dah mole-rah?” the Rodian asked, speaking in Huttese.

“You know how it is, Greedo,” Annikin said, becoming visibly annoyed at the Rodian’s question and insensitivity, despite the fact that he did owe Greedo money from lost swoop racing bets. “We all barely have money to make ends meet. I’ve got a few races coming up, so I’ll pay you when I can.”

“Keel-ee calleya ku kah,” Greedo said, his voice reflecting his expression of disappointment. “Tah pee-chah ah kulkee flunka. Tah-koh tee womp rat e’nachu.”

“I’m going to end up as womp rat food?” Annikin said, laughing at what he thought was an absurd insinuation. “You obviously haven’t seen me race if you think I need to go back to racing school.”

“Koochoo,” Greedo said in an insulting tone.

Annikin nearly jumped over the counter in anger. Normally, he did not let people call him an idiot or any other name and get away with it, but the heat from even inside the building was taking its toll on him. He had no desire to get into a fight with Greedo, though it would not have been the first time he had done so. He always knew that Greedo would come to a bad end eventually, so one fight didn’t matter to him that much. He would simply be happy when some disgruntled person decided to shoot him, if that time ever came.

“Stay out of trouble, Greedo,” Annikin said as he turned and walked towards the exit.

Annikin did not stay long enough to see Greedo’s further reactions, as there always were added insults and protests at him leaving without paying his debt. He did not care much about the debt, as he knew he could handle Greedo if the Rodian lost his temper. The bet had nothing to do with the Hutts, so there was no one to enforce the bet or even care about the fact that it was made.

Looking up from the sand, Annikin looked out into the distance and saw a massive sandstorm kilometers away. He hadn’t heard about one, though he hadn’t heard a weather report in several days and sandstorms were impossible to foresee. They had become common over the years since the drought began and caused a great deal of damage. It was strange to him, though, at how large the one he was looking at was, as it was one of the largest he had seen in recent years. All he could hope was that his family was safe at their homestead. He would end up staying in the basement of a building in the settlement, because he knew it was too dangerous to try to make it back to the homestead.

Hearing a roar from above, Annikin looked up above his head to see a large silver starship fly over the settlement directly towards the sandstorm. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening, knowing that the ship would have to turn quickly because of its speed or else it’d hit the sandstorm head on. If that happened, there was no way anyone inside of it would be able to survive, as they’d certainly crash land in the middle of it.

Annikin watched as the ship continued to fly towards the sandstorm. It finally began to bank to the left as it made its way closer to the ship, though Annikin felt as if it was too late. His fears were quickly confirmed, because even though the ship began to turn its rear engines grazed the sandstorm ever-so-slightly, though it was just enough to cause significant damage. Whoever was piloting the ship attempted to speed up, though that did not make problems any better. Despite being able to fly at least a kilometer and a half away from the storm, Annikin could see that the blue glow of the engines faded away, and only a few moments later the ship nose-dived and crashed hard into the desert below it.

As citizens of Anchorhead began to come outside and look to see what had happened, Annikin ran to his parked speeder and immediately ignited the engine. Turning away from the parking spot, he thrust the speeder forward and immediately made his way towards the crash site. He could only hope that the passengers and crew of the ship were still alive, though the ship did crash into the ground fairly hard and quickly.

Though he knew there was considerable risk to his own life, he had to find out if those inside of the ship were safe. If they were, he couldn’t risk them trying to foolishly leave the ship and try to escape the sandstorm, as it would surely lead to their deaths. Annikin had been through his fair share of storms to know that the best thing to do was to stay indoors rather than risk being caught in the storm, though he was fully prepared to take that risk to help others.

After the brief kilometer and a half trip was over, Annikin leaped off of his speeder and ran towards the ship. The sandstorm was only a quarter of a kilometer away, and he could already feel the beginnings of it. Everything was becoming obscured, and the roar of the storm along caused a disorienting feeling inside of him. It was as if the sounds were coming from all directions, being some sort of a monster that approached from all sides. As many had said before him, it was as if the universe was composed only of noise and he was in its chaotic center.

As the storm prepared to overtake him, he crawled up the hull of the crashed ship to look for an entrance hatch. He searched every plate of the smooth hull, though he was running out of time so the search was frantic. He finally found one near what he assumed was the cockpit, though when he tried to open it he found that it was stuck together from the crinkling of the hull in the crash. He pulled a metallic tool from his belt and began to slam it into the cracks of the hatch, slowly ripping the door up from the hull of the vessel. Finally, just as the storm prepared to reach out its hand and pull him into the center of it, the door came loose and he was able to open it. Taking one final look at the storm, he jumped down into the ship and quickly closed the door behind him.

Nearly two kilometers away from the storm and the crashed ship, a small group of hermits watched as the storm overtook the vessel that looked like nothing more than a brightly lit speck on the horizon. Even so, the hermits had watched the ship approach and crash to the ground, and it was of great interest to them. The hermits stared intently as the ship disappeared within the sand, many of them with smiles on their faces. While some who did not know them would have considered such a smile to be sinister in nature, they knew otherwise.

The leader of the group also knew otherwise. He stepped out from within the group, pulling back the hood that he had used to shade his eyes form the scorching suns. He was of medium build and had not shaven in many days due to his religious prayers, prayers that seemed to have paid off. A smile crossed his face as well, as the time he had dreamed of since he was a small boy was at hand. Thousands of others before him had awaited such a moment and all of them believed it would happen in their lifetimes, but only he and his men were the ones who accurately predicted it. The crash of the starship near the homestead of the Lars family could mean only one thing to them.

The Argus had arrived.

Chapter 8: Annikin
The winds howled overhead as the storm continued to rip across the desert wastes. Annikin could only imagine that it was already over his homestead and the settlement, but he didn’t want to think of such things. All worrying did was cloud his focus on the task at hand, and his task was to make sure that the people within the ship were safe. He had only made it into a small cargo hold, but he could hear noise on the other side of the door which told him that there was a good chance of the passengers and crew having survived the crash.

As Annikin leaned down to try to find the door’s manual release, he couldn’t help but keep his mind on the sandstorm outside. While the sounds were somewhat muted from within the colder, more hushed vessel, the sandstorm wailed like a beast in agony that simply refused to die. It represented everything that was wrong with Tatooine; while the deserts seemed peaceful enough, albeit scorching hot, there was no such thing as peace and no one could be complacent. Sandstorms, poisonous creatures, Tusken Raiders, Hutts; it did not matter where one traveled in the dunes of Tatooine, for they would always be someone’s prey.

Annikin pulled a tool from his belt, slicing it into a small mesh of wires just above the floor next to the door. His mechanical skills had always been far greater than those of anyone else he had known in his short life, and they had just come to him over time. With practice, he was able to make them even better, which came in handy as he fiddled with the manual release. Even so, he wasn’t always able to do what wanted to do mechanically, and he proved that as the mesh of cables let out a spark that sent his hand flying backwards in a lick of pain.

Before he could start again, the door was opened from the other side and three guards looked around the area. They finally looked down and saw him, and as he stood up they tackled him to the ground once again. With three blasters in his face, the guards hadn’t exactly given him the best impression of whoever they were guarding. They were obviously the “shoot first, ask questions later” type, and though Annikin knew that it was sometimes necessary he also knew to think it through before attacking a teenager who clearly had no visible weapons on him.

Looking up, Annikin watched as two robed and clearly distinguished men approached him. The older man with the gray hair and accompanying beard looked at both Annikin and the guards disapprovingly, though the younger man seemed to be somewhat amused by the situation. It was as if the younger man was less uptight than the older one, though Annikin had only just seen them so he couldn’t exactly judge them already. He had learned hard lessons in judging the metaphorical book by its cover, so he always made sure not to do it again.

“Let him go,” the younger man said.

“But sir?” one of the guards asked, but the younger man waved his hand in a yielding manner before the guard could continue speaking.

“He’s just a kid,” the younger man continued. “I’m sure he was just trying to escape the storm, that’s all.”

The guards let Annikin go and he slowly stood up, knowing that the last time he stood up he was tackled to the ground. He watched as Obi-Wan stared at him, sensing the curiosity that the man's curiousity. Annikin also had a great deal of curiosity for the younger man staring at him, and that curiosity was only fueled further when he pulled part back of his robes, giving Annikin a glimpse at the lightsaber that hung from his utility belt. Annikin had never seen one before, much less seen one on a Jedi. Even though he didn’t know if he was a Jedi, he knew that there was a good chance that he was, which gave Annikin an interesting perspective on him.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi” Obi-Wan said, reaching out his hand for Annikin to shake. “Who are you?”

“I’m Annikin Skywalker,” Annikin told him, taking Obi-Wan’s hand and shaking it as a sign of an initial mutual respect. “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Rescue?” Dooku asked, not even making an attempt to hold back his amusement as he nodded his head in laughter. “Does it look like we need rescuing, boy?”

“No,” Annikin said, his momentarily excited tone defeated by the mocking of the older man whom he assumed was a Jedi as well, “but I - ”

“But what?” Dooku asked. “You thought you would play hero today? Well we don’t need a hero right now, so please be on your way.”

“Jard,” Obi-Wan said, “how could he possibly be on his way? If he so much as even opens that door, we’re all dead.”

Dooku began to say something in his defense, but he quickly realized that he didn’t have one. He simply turned away, embarrassed and defeated. Dooku’s defeat amused Annikin. The elder man had already tried to mock him, so it made Annikin feel better seeing him beaten at his own game. It was something he would have said himself had he not known Dooku for less than two minutes. While his respect for Dooku was low, he had gained a great deal of respect for Obi-Wan simply because of his attitude and his way of dealing with people. Obi-Wan was someone that Annikin felt he could get along with, assuming they even had time to get to know each other.

“Well, Annikin Skywalker,” Obi-Wan said, “you’re welcome to wait out the storm with us in here.”

Annikin nodded in thanks, but before he could answer another crew member ran up to Obi-Wan. The crewman was dressed in dark red and blue armor and tunics much like the guards were, so Annikin assumed that reflected a dark style that belonged to the people’s culture. That assumption wore itself away as Annikin stepped forward to get a better view of the ship. The interior was a metallic silver and white, giving it an elegant look. They were clearly a complex people, whoever they were.

“The crash disabled the hyperdrive generator completely,” the guard told Obi-Wan who scratched at his beard while listening intently, “but all other systems are within safe operating limits. We’ll have to refuel and repair the engine.”

“I’ll take a look at it,” Annikin said, becoming interested at the prospect of tinkering with an alien engine design.

“You?” Obi-Wan asked ever-so-curiously. “How could you fix a hyperdrive engine?”

“Well I’ve never met a busted engine I couldn’t tape back together,” Annikin told him confidently. “I may not be able to make it as good as new, but it’ll get you wherever you need to go.”

Obi-Wan prepared himself to say no, but in the end he could only ask himself one question: what was the harm in letting him try? If Annikin was unable to fix it, then it wouldn’t make a difference, but if he could and was turned away then it would have been a waste of a competent resource. Obi-Wan subtly looked over to Dooku who not as subtly was shaking his head, already knowing what his former apprentice was thinking. Despite Dooku’s obvious reservations, Obi-Wan knew that it would be smarter to let Annikin try than not to let him try at all.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll show you to the engine room.”

Annikin nodded and started walking towards the hallway. He turned to Dooku who had a clear sign of disapproval on his face, and Annikin wanted to confront him over it but he bit his tongue and kept following Obi-Wan down the hallway. Much like he had seen from just looking around the area of the cargo bay, the entire ship was a bright and metallic mesh of white and silver deck and wall plating. He hid the fact that the environment was different to him as well. What would seem comfortably habitable to most people felt freezing to him, as he was used to the harsher heat of the desert wastes.

Turning a corner, Annikin followed Obi-Wan into the small and simple engine room. It was bathed in light much like the rest of the ship and was mostly empty, save for the T-14 hyperdrive generator sitting in the middle. Designed and produced by the Inner Rim Design Collective, the engine was used by many Inner Rim and Outer Rim clients on vessels. Annikin had the specifications for them in his collection of designs, but he had never seen one before. Regardless, he believed that he could fix the damaged the ship, given a standard week or so.

“I think I can help,” Annikin told Obi-Wan optimistically, “but I’m going to have to shut off all other systems, including environmental systems.”

“Then where are we supposed to stay?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You can stay at my place,” Annikin said. “It’s about a kilometer or so from here and we’ve got space in the lower levels.”

“Your family won’t mind?” Obi-Wan asked, unwilling to butt into a home without being welcomed.

“I don’t think so,” Annikin said in what he knew was only a half truth as he would probably need one of the Jedi to come along to explain the situation, though he did his best to hide that fact. “I’ve got to go back to get my tools and specs anyway, so we might as well all go together.”

“You go on ahead,” Obi-Wan told him. “We’re going to have to clear a few things up here, but we can meet you there.”

The howling of the raging sandstorm suddenly subsided, prompting both Annikin and Obi-Wan to instinctively look up towards the ceiling. Obi-Wan stepped over to a computer console to activate external sensors, and Annikin moved in behind him as he configured them to get a glimpse of the immediate area. The monitor showed the sandstorm moving away, and Annikin knew that the storm was moving away from their position and the position of his home. With the sensors, he was able to get a good idea of the storms past trajectory and he was able to tell that the storm had just barely missed his homestead. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized it, the weight of an unpleasant situation being lifted off his shoulders as he did.

“You should probably get going now,” Obi-Wan suggested.

“My mother won’t mind,” Annikin told him with somewhat of a worried tone, “but the rest of my family might not be as welcome to the idea of outsiders staying with us. It’d probably be easier to convince them if you came along.”

“Very well,” Obi-Wan said, showing off a faint smile as he recognized that Annikin’s tone suggested he thought highly of him, “but I’ll have to get approval from the queen before we leave.”

“The queen?” Annikin asked, his tone becoming excited as he began to realize just how important the crew of the ship was.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan told him with a smile, though he was still reluctant to share more information with Annikin. “We’re carrying Queen Arcadia of Utapau, but you can’t let anyone know about it.”

Annikin nodded in agreement, though he was stunned to hear that they were carrying the monarch of an important world such as Utapau, though he could tell by Obi-Wan’s tone that he did not want anymore questions asked, at least for that moment. Annikin respected the need for a secret such as that, but the secrecy and the fact that they were carrying the Queen of Utapau furthered his belief that Obi-Wan and Dooku were Jedi. Because Obi-Wan did not want to share much at that point, Annikin decided not to ask whether or not they were Jedi, though he would try to find the right point to do so.

“Let’s go speak with the queen,” Obi-Wan said, though before Annikin could respond Obi-Wan turned out of the room and made his way across the hall to the queen’s personal chambers.

“Come in,” a voice said after Obi-Wan had rang the chime on the door.

Annikin followed Obi-Wan through the door, not realizing how nervous he had become. He had been in the presence of Jabba the Hutt once before, though he detested the crime lord so his nervousness was not evident nor was it strong. Walking through the door towards the monarch of such an important world was a much different experience, and his nervousness clearly showed. He had hoped to avoid embarrassment, but he realized that as Obi-Wan bowed down in respect that he had neglected to do so. Annikin blushed as he realized his mistake before bowing down in respect for the queen.

“Queen Arcadia,” Obi-Wan said, “I would like to present Annikin Skywalker, a local of these parts. He risked his life to make sure we survived the crash.”

“You have my thanks, Annikin Skywalker,” the queen said, though she was somewhat taken aback by the young man who was dressed in ragged clothes and looked as if he hadn’t taken a shower in days.

“My lady,” Obi-Wan said, changing the subject to what was important, “Annikin believes he can repair our hyperdrive generator, but he’ll need to turn all systems offline, including environmental. He’s offered to let us all stay at his home, with your permission.”

Arcadia sat down on her makeshift throne, putting her hand onto her chin as she thought about what the Jedi Knight had told her. She did not know if Annikin would be able to fix the hyperdrive, but it was worth a shot. Along with that, they would have shelter, for if they brought the hyperdrive to someone in a settlement they would be hard pressed to come up with non-Republic credits to pay for the repairs, let alone a shelter for when the environmental systems were offline. In the end, there was really nothing to lose, though the economics of it could have been difficult to work out.

“Very well,” Arcadia said, “but it will be difficult to pay you.”

“I came here to help,” Annikin said, “not to look for a profit. I’ll do it for free.”

Obi-Wan and Arcadia both looked at one another with surprised reactions. It was not often in any corner of the galaxy to find someone who would agree to work so hard for no profit. Arcadia smiled and Obi-Wan knew that he had stumbled across someone extraordinary. If Annikin had not lived on Tatooine, Obi-Wan knew that he could have become someone great who could have truly made a difference in everyone’s life.

“Alright,” Arcadia said, dropping her more formal tone in favor of a casual one. “I’ll let you try to fix it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Obi-Wan said, bowing as he finished. “I’ll go with Annikin to his home and speak with his family, just to make sure that they’ll be fine with this.”

“Then I wish you good luck, Master Kenobi,” Arcadia said, “and thank you, Annikin Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan bowed once again, and Annikin followed suit without embarrassment that time. The two turned from the door and Annikin did his best to not beam with pride. He had impressed an important monarch, though he did not want to seem as if he was a small child meeting an idol for the first time. He hid it even more when he turned out of the room and saw that Dooku had been listening and seemed to greatly disapprove, though Annikin did not acknowledge him and instead kept walking. Obi-Wan, however, was stopped when Dooku forcefully put an arm on his shoulder, but Annikin kept walking towards the closest accessible exit.

“Are you sure about this?” Dooku asked Obi-Wan. “Are you really going to trust our fate to a boy we don’t even know?”

“I’m not trusting our fate to him,” Obi-Wan told him. “I’m giving him a chance to prove himself, to see if he can repair this engine so we don’t have to worry about finding money and paying a repair shop in a spaceport.”

“You’re getting sidetracked again,” Dooku said, his tone becoming frustrated. “You need to stop getting involved in these pet projects of yours. This boy isn’t going to amount to anything and you’ll just be wasting our time.”

“You need to stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing,” Obi-Wan said, he too becoming frustrated as the short debate went on. “I’m not your padawan anymore and I’ll get involved with ‘pet projects’ if I want.”

“You’re right about one thing,” Dooku told him. “You’re not a padawan anymore, but I think you should be. You obviously haven’t learned anything.”

Obi-Wan almost continued the debate and became more forceful, but he came to his senses and decided that it was not worth debating with his former master. He knew that Dooku was wrong and that Annikin was worth investing his efforts. Qui-Gon Jinn had always taught Obi-Wan that there were no coincidences and the Force made things happen for a reason. Obi-Wan had recognized that many times in his journeys across the galaxy, and Annikin was by far one of the most promising young men he had ever run across. He was not about to defy Qui-Gon’s teachings when he could have potentially found a great ally with so much potential.

Obi-Wan turned away from Dooku, not saying a word and not allowing the Jedi Master to say another word either. He had heard enough from the aging Jedi Master and had become fed up with him numerous times, though he had not felt as annoyed as he was during that debate. It was something about Annikin that made him almost angry when Dooku demeaned both of them, though he tried not to let it affect him too much as he knew it would simply cloud his judgment later on if he did.

Annikin stood at the doorway waiting for Obi-Wan to follow and say that he was ready to leave, and it was clear to Obi-Wan that Annikin had overheard the conversation with Dooku. Annikin did his best to hide his embarrassment and the fact that Dooku felt he was nothing more than a pet project, though the sadness and the annoyance on Annikin’s face did make its way to the surface. Obi-Wan smiled reassuringly, placing his hand onto Annikin’s shoulder to comfort him.

“Don’t worry about him,” Obi-Wan optimistically said with a smile. “He just doesn’t think that we should worry about anything but our mission.”

Annikin nodded, though it did not make him feel much better. He didn’t understand why Dooku would chastise him in such a manner when all he did was offer to help them. He wasn’t concerned with what their mission was, but rather that they were able to complete it. Annikin asked himself if it was a crime, since he saw no way that it was, but Dooku obviously had and decided to take whatever frustrations he held within him out on someone who he believed was weaker than him. Even amongst people who were most likely Jedi, that trait ran rampant.

Annikin was used to being preyed on by those that perceived him to be weaker. His family had been made up of sharecroppers for many years, and their home was owned by Jabba the Hutt. Like all Hutts, whenever Jabba felt the need to prey on the weak he did so on those who lived and worked on his property by raising taxes or ordering armed searches of the premises. Others families were in far worse shape than his, though that did not take away the pain of the fact that they were always prey to predators without reason. All he could do was try his best to ignore it and concentrate on the moment.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Annikin said, though he clearly was not as enthusiastic as he had been before he overheard Dooku’s rant.

Obi-Wan nodded and opened the hatch to the exit. As it slid open upwards and Annikin walked through it, Obi-Wan took a moment to sense the thoughts that had made their way to Annikin’s surface and could tell that the boy was truly hurt by what the elder Jedi had said. Obi-Wan felt sorry for Annikin, knowing that all he wanted to do was help people in need. It was a noble quality, though it was a quality that had fallen victim to many people such as Dooku over the millennia. As Obi-Wan also made his way out of the ship, he knew that he would have to speak with Dooku about his attitude when he returned, lest he allow such a promising young man to slip through their fingers.

Annikin and Obi-Wan made their way on foot through the kilometer or so of desert between the crashed starship and the Lars homestead. Annikin’s speeder had been torn to pieces by the storm, and it was something that he hadn’t thought about when he had first jumped into the ship. Speeders were hard to come by because of their cost, and he knew that it was unlikely that he’d have one of his own anytime soon. He’d have to share with his stepbrother if he didn’t want to walk on foot from their home to Anchorhead every time he needed to go into the settlement.

Obi-Wan had never felt heat such as the scorching heat of Tatooine. It didn’t greatly affect him, though sweat did bead down from his forehead, causing him to have to wipe it off constantly. It was unpleasant, but tolerable for the time being. He was able to understand why Annikin offered them shelter, for if they were forced to stay in the ship with no environmental systems then it would have been Hell for all of them, though more specifically everyone who was not a member of the Jedi Order. Even so, when they approached the Lars homestead, Obi-Wan didn’t understand how they would all fit in it, as all he saw was one small hut protruding out of the desert sands.

Annikin, however, knew full well how they would all be able to fit. Contrary to what the homestead seemed to look like from a short distance, it was a large complex that could fit many people. Annikin’s home was a moisture farm located on the Great Chott Salt Flat on the outskirts of the Jundland Wastes with dozens of vaporators scattered across the property. The complex itself was most underground with entrances within a large pit to keep the property cool and allow enough room for the family and then some.

As Annikin and Obi-Wan approached, three people walked out from the main dome that served as the entrance to the home. They were Shmi Skywalker-Lars, who was Annikin’s mother, and Cliegg and Owen Lars, who were Annikin’s stepfather and stepbrother, respectively. Shmi was a small and petite woman with shoulder-length hair that was placed into a neat bun behind her head. Cliegg was a larger man with gray hair who walked with a cane, and Owen was a young, strong-looking man of nearly twenty-four years of age. Each of them were surprised to see the stranger walking up to their home with Annikin, though Owen was the only one who actually appeared to be obviously displeased with the strangers arrival.

“Who’s this?” Owen asked, his tone reflecting his annoyance.

“This is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Annikin said and waited as Obi-Wan respectfully bowed towards the family. “He’s part of the crew of a ship that crashed a kilometer or so away during the storm. I offered to help repair their hyperdrive, but I’ll need to turn off all of their systems so I told them they could stay here.”

“Here?” Cliegg asked, skeptical of whether or not he would want the crew of an outsider ship staying on his farm. “On the farm?”

“How many of you are there?” Shmi asked, though she appeared to Obi-Wan to be far more understanding and welcoming than Cliegg and Owen.

“A little over twelve men and women,” Obi-Wan told them.

“I don’t know if we can accommodate that many people,” Cliegg said, seemingly waving off any chance of allowing them to stay.

“Mr. Skywalker,” Obi-Wan said, “I - ”

“That’s Lars,” Cliegg said, correcting Obi-Wan’s forgivable mistake, “Cliegg Lars.”

“Mr. Lars,” Obi-Wan continued, nodding his head in respect to the knowledge of Cliegg’s name, “I can assure you that we won’t take up room. We’ll all be willing to help you around your farm or do whatever else you might need done. It’s the least we could do if you offer us your hospitality.”

Cliegg subtly turned away for a moment to think over the proposal. There was a great deal to be cleaned up, because even though the storm did not directly hit the homestead there was still plenty of damage in the further areas of the property. Even so, he was never all that fond of outsiders, but as he turned to his wife to see her reassuring smile and her hand on his shoulder, he knew that letting the outsiders stay would be beneficial and that, in the end, it was the right thing to do.

“Alright,” Cliegg said, much to the obvious dismay of his son. “You can stay, but you’ll have to arrange the garage as your quarters. We don’t have anything else to offer you for rest.”

“The garage will do fine,” Obi-Wan said, bowing towards the entire family once again. “We greatly appreciate your hospitality.”

Annikin was pleased that Cliegg had accepted Obi-Wan’s offer so quickly, as he had known Cliegg for eight years, ever since his mother had married him, and knew that Cliegg was not as warm to outsiders as he could have been. Even so, he was never as bad as Owen, who always seemed to have a great distrust for anything having to do with those who were not from Tatooine, and sometimes those who were not even from their small corner of the habitable regions. Annikin could see it all over his face as Owen approached, leaning in close.

“I want to talk to you,” Owen said, grabbing Annikin’s arm.

Annikin almost resisted Owen pulling him into the covered hut, but in the end he knew it would only cause more trouble. If Owen wanted to rant, Annikin generally let him rant. It was the nature of their tense relationship ever since they came into each others lives to let Owen rant and to have Annikin ignore him. In the beginning, Annikin always became upset, because he was always much younger than his step-brother and felt as if he was being attacked. Over time, however, Annikin simply let Owen harass and harangue him, as defending himself would change nothing.

Owen stopped pulling Annikin when they had reached the bottom of the entryway of the home. He had become angrier as they made their way down the steps and put no effort into hiding it from his face. Annikin never knew why Owen had such a distrust of outsiders, but he never wanted to ask because he had told himself he would never be the one to start arguments with his older stepbrother. He knew he might never find out, but in the end it wasn’t that important to him. All he knew was that Owen was a man who wanted to help others, but only those that he knew and trusted, despite the fact that he complained about how people never helped each other like they used to.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Owen asked. “You have no idea who these people are or what they want.”

“All they want is to finish their mission,” Annikin told him, “and for the most part, I trust them. I don’t see why you can’t assume good faith here.”

“They’re outsiders,” Owen quietly shouted in an angered whisper. “Whenever outsiders come around, they arrogantly think that they can save us from our horrible lives. Well I like my life, and I don’t need someone from Alderaan or wherever they’re from telling me that they’re my savior.”

“They’re not like that,” Annikin said, shaking his head convincingly.

“Oh really?” Owen asked, sarcastically. “The whole hour you’ve spent with them told you, huh?”

“You know,” Annikin said, finally becoming frustrated at what he believed were ridiculous accusations against him and Obi-Wan’s crew, “you always complain that the biggest problem around here is that no one helps each other. Now I’ve offered to help them and they’ve offered to help us, but you want to turn them away? I think the better question is what the hell’s the matter with you?”

“Well I guess I’m just not so quick to trust people I don’t even know,” Owen said in a clearly condescending tone.

Annikin finally became fed up with Owen’s rant. Not only had Owen made a personal attack against him, but he made a personal attack against people he barely even knew. Annikin knew that Obi-Wan and the others on the ship could be trusted, even though he was not fond of Dooku. For whatever reason, Owen simply was unable to see it. As the frustration reached a near boiling point, Annikin heard someone say something he never expected anyone would say. After a brief moment, he realized that he had said it himself.

“And you still wonder why Beru left you?” Annikin had asked.

The statement was Owen’s breaking point. His face turned bright red and he slammed his younger stepbrother up against the wall, cracking part of the material that held it up. He hated talking about how Beru Whitesun had left him, as she was the love of his life. He had met her years earlier in Mos Eisley and the two ended up forming a romantic relationship with one another. They ended up getting engaged to be married, but Beru ended up breaking it off and said that Owen had trust issues. Owen dismissed them and instead tried for some time to search within himself for the reason that she left him, albeit to no avail.

Owen turned as he pressed Annikin up against the wall to see Shmi standing above them on the stairs. He looked back at Annikin before looking at her once again, at which point he let his stepbrother go. As he walked away, Annikin watched him intently, almost regretting what he had said. Even so, he believed that it had to be said, as it would possibly make Owen thing about who he had become. Whether or not that came to pass, he knew that his older stepbrother was still a stubborn man who had too much trouble keeping peaceful relationships with one another.

“He’s so damn arrogant,” Annikin said to his mother. “I tried to be his brother, but he wouldn’t let me in. I tried to be his friend, but he didn’t want to be friends. I honestly don’t know what to do with him anymore.”

“He’s gone through rough times,” Shmi told him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “First his mother died, now Beru broke off their engagement. He’ll come around eventually. You just need to give him time.”

“I’ve tried for years,” Annikin said, hopelessly. “If he hasn’t come around by now, I don’t see when he ever will.”

“He will,” Shmi said with a smile. “It may take some time, but trust me. He will.”

Annikin smiled, taking comfort in her assurance. Even so, he knew that it was possible that she would end up being wrong, as he had been Owen’s stepbrother for many years and there had always been a great deal of hostility between them. Annikin desperately wanted an older brother figure in his life, but Owen seemed to stray further and further away from that possible path every day. All Annikin figured he could do was follow his mother’s advice and give Owen time, despite all of the time he had given him already. There was always the risk, though, that something bigger would come between them and they would never have the opportunity to connect as brothers should.

Chapter 9: The Hermits
When the first rays of the morning’s sunlight hit him, Cliegg’s chest expanded as his lungs inflated with the air that the breeze brought through the open window. Opening his eyes from his sleep, he stirred in his bed next to his wife. He had always enjoyed an honest day’s work, something that seemed more and more uncommon in the galaxy, but he never was one who enjoyed getting out of bed for it. Even so, it was something he did every day, even though fighting with himself to actually get out of bed had somehow managed to worm its way into his daily routine.

Stepping out of bed, he could feel his bones ache and his joints crack as he stretched out his arms. It was harder to be a farmer the more he aged, though he still fought through the pains that aging brought with him. Had it not been for Shmi, who would still sleep soundly for another half an hour, he may not have even wanted to keep working on the moisture farm, especially because of the seemingly endless drought that had plagued the planet for the better part of two decades. Providing for her was the most important reason that he woke up every morning.

He had met Shmi at a market in the spaceport city of Mos Espa. She had been working for a Toydarian in a junk shop, as had Annikin, and while they weren’t slaves he knew they felt like they were because they had no place to go. That was, at least, until they met Cliegg and Owen. Cliegg was immediately taken with Shmi, and years later she told him that it had been the same with her. One year later, they were married and she and Annikin moved in with him on the farm.

Of course, Shmi was not his first wife. He had been married years later to Akia Lars, Owen’s mother, though she had gotten sick after the drought and died from an internal infection caused by her immense exposure to the binary sunlight. Without a wife, Cliegg felt powerless and had no idea how to raise his son on his own, though he and Owen were able to pull through and survive day after day until they met Shmi and Annikin, at which point life got easier for them.

Still, the relationship between Owen and Annikin was never what Cliegg had hoped it would be. He and his brother Lee were inseparable as children and that relationship remained intact until Lee found work off-world and left the desert wastes. Cliegg had hoped that Annikin and Owen would have had that same connection, but instead Owen constantly pushed Annikin away. He had tried to talk to his son about it numerous times, but Owen would never open up to him. For that reason, Cliegg always tried to be a good father to Annikin, hoping it would give the boy some sort of male figure in his life for support.

Shmi rarely spoke of Annikin’s birth father. Cliegg never even heard his name mentioned. From what he had been told, Annikin’s father was a navigator on a spice freighter somewhere in the Outer Rim. Cliegg never asked about him, as he could tell that it was obviously a painful subject for Shmi and Annikin. Still, it would have been interesting to him to meet the man that helped give life to his stepson. Cliegg always felt that Annikin was a remarkable young man who deserved more than life had given him, so he could only imagine that his father was a remarkable man as well.

As he slipped into his clothes for the morning, Cliegg stepped out of his bedroom and into the large pit that was dug into the ground for the center of the homestead. He looked around and could hear nothing from any of the surrounding rooms, so he could only assume that everyone else was still asleep. However, he knew that Owen would have already been working on his chores, as he was always the first one up and the first one to finish all of his work.

There was a great deal of work to do around the farm, but he had no doubt that the outsider crew of the crashed starship would not put in their fair share. He assumed that they would work as little as possible simply to say that they were working, but he had no grand expectations about a large amount of work getting done. Still, he would make sure that Annikin got his chores done before working on the ship, as the chores around the farm were far more important to Cliegg than some hyperdrive generator on a starship from far, far away.

“Annikin,” Cliegg shouted, trying to get Annikin’s attention. “Annikin!”

Before Cliegg could call his stepsons name again, he was startled to see Arcadia pop her head out from the cooling well in the center of the pit. When she had first arrived, she had been dressed in an elegant outfit, making Cliegg believe that she was some sort of dignitary or ambassador from a world within the Galactic Republic. However, as she stuck her head out of the cooling well, Cliegg could see that she was covered in dirt and water, clearly putting in an effort to fix the faulty cooling unit. He didn’t expect to see her of all people do so, but he was pleasantly surprised.

“Sorry,” Arcadia said softly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, no, it’s alright,” Cliegg said, trying to brush off the fact that he was startled. “It takes a lot to make this old man jump. What were you doing down there anyway?”

“Your son told me that the cooling unit needed fixing,” Arcadia said, “so I figured I’d take a look at it.”

“You didn’t seem like the type to actually get your hands dirty yesterday,” Cliegg told her, not letting onto the fact that he regretted judging her before he even saw what she was capable of. “I guess I misjudged you.”

“People have a habit of doing that sometimes,” Arcadia said with a hint of sadness, half referring to the crisis unfolding on Utapau while she was absent, “but my father raised me to be self-sufficient.”

“That’s always a good thing to be,” Cliegg said, nodding slightly as a sign of respect. “Do you know where Annikin went off to?”

“He went with Kenobi back to our ship,” she told him. “He wanted to get started as early as possible.”

“He left already?” Cliegg asked, bothered and slightly irritated by the fact. “Well if he doesn’t get those chores of his on the south range done by midday then there’ll be hell to pay.”

“He already finished them,” Arcadia told him, watching Cliegg’s surprised reaction at her revelation. “We all woke up a few hours ago to get all this done early.”

Cliegg stood half still for a moment with an almost blank expression, though he was happy to see that he had misjudged the outsiders. Even after allowing them to stay at his home, he had given in to the stereotypes that said all outsiders were lazy, freeloading warmongers that wanted nothing more than to sit around and plot their next sinister scheme. He would certainly have some interesting stories about these people to share with his friends at the Krayt Cantina, assuming they even believed them.

Leaving Arcadia to finish her work, Cliegg turned back around and made his way into the garage. He expected to find it empty, though he found the elderly man snoring in the corner of the droid holding area. Cliegg let out a silent laugh, realizing that he may have been partially right about the outsiders, though it was not that big of a deal to him considering there were nearly a dozen people out on his farm getting the chores done in well less than half the time that he and his family could have finished them. If everything went well, the work would be done within the hour. It would be the first time in years that he would be given a break from work, and for once he felt that it was well deserved on his part.

As he turned away from Dooku, who continued to snore as he slept, Owen charged his way down the nearby staircase, nearly knocking over a shelf. He was clearly upset over something, though Cliegg could not imagine what it was considering almost all of the work was done. Cliegg would have said that it was cause for celebration, but Owen was easily flustered if something broke his routine.

“Dad,” Owen shouted, not caring about the fact that Dooku slept in the corner, “can I get a word with you?”

“What is it?” Cliegg asked, somewhat reluctant about asking the question, as he walked with Owen into the stairwell.

“That frog guy is out there doing my work,” Owen shouted. “What am I supposed to do today? Curl up on the couch with a hot glass of blue milk and call it a day?”

“Owen,” Cliegg said, not able to hold back his partial amusement and partial irritation at his son’s dismay, “these people woke up hours ago because they wanted to help us. That’s hardly cause for being stubborn and pigheaded.”

“How can you even let these people roam around on our farm?” Owen asked, becoming more frustrated as he didn’t get the answer he wanted. “We don’t know what they’re capable of and we don’t know what they want!”

“I want you to shut up,” Dooku said from the corner, though as Owen and Cliegg turned around to look they could tell he was still half asleep so they made their way up the stairs and onto the desert sands where they could talk in private.

As they stepped out onto the sands, Cliegg panoramically looked at his farm and saw the entire crew of the starship pulling their fair share. Young handmaidens for whoever on the ship was most important worked at moisture vaporators, soldiers worked to dig new holes for additional vaporators and, sure enough, the Gungan was doing Owen’s repair work. Had he been younger, Cliegg would have beamed with pride, but all he could do was simply feel a great deal of gratitude. It surely was a welcome sight.

“Look, son,” Cliegg said, “I know you don’t like it when something breaks your normal routine, but these people aren’t our enemies. Let them help out and they’ll soon be gone.”

“But -”

“No,” Cliegg said firmly, trying to avoid becoming verbally irritated. “Let them be.”

Owen had no response for his father other than walking off, even more frustrated than he had been when he first started complaining about the outsiders. Everyone held a negative bias towards people who were not from Tatooine, but Owen always took it a step further. It was as if he had an outright hatred for them, especially the ones that they had welcomed into their home. Whatever his reasons, Cliegg could only hope that Owen would one day see why he had let them stay at their home and why allowing them to keep working was a positive thing, rather than a negative one.

“Goodness gracious me!” the gold-clad protocol droid shouted as he nearly bumped into Artoo Detoo while walking towards the hyperdrive chamber. The protocol droid recognized Artoo as a small, claw-armed tripod. The astromech droid was made of computer lights surrounding a radar eye that sat in the middle of the front side of his dome-shaped head. The protocol droid, on the other hand, was a tall and slender droid of Human proportions. Unlike most protocol droids, however, he had a dirty-brown surface of rusted metallic scrap metal. Even the older Humanoid-like models that had come before him were more aesthetically pleasing. “Oh,” the protocol droid said as Artoo introduced himself and then asked who he was, “I am See Threepio, Human-cyborg relations. It is a pleasure to meet you, Artoo Detoo.” Threepio knew little of himself or his creation, though that was no matter to him. From what he could ascertain on his own, he was originally activated on the Cybot Galactica foundry world of Affa, though he didn’t know when that was. He somehow received a memory wipe, was broken into pieces and trashed on Tatooine, though why that was also was something of a mystery to him. He could only assume that he was able to serve no further purpose to his former master. He wasn’t reactivated until Annikin found his discarded and gutted head and chassis in the streets of Anchorhead. Annikin smuggled him home piece by piece to reassemble him as a servant and occasional worker droid to help around the farm. After months of working, Annikin was able to make him functional again with many improvised parts. Even so, Annikin was unable to afford proper droid coverings, so he was forced to meld some together using scrap metal from around the farm. He ended up not being the most visually pleasing of droids, though that never interfered with his work or capabilities. Threepio and Artoo continued down the hall, chatting and chirping away as Annikin and Obi-Wan worked in the generator room. Annikin couldn’t help but let out a smile as he noticed that Threepio, once again, forgot everything that he was doing. It was no matter for the moment, though. All the droid had been doing was removing spare parts from the room, so he wasn’t needed for some time. Obi-Wan was more than happy to help Annikin with anything he needed anyway. Annikin wiped the sweat away from his head. He was used to the heat just from being outside, though he had forgotten to prepare himself for the heat inside a completely enclosed starship. He looked out from underneath the generator and saw that Obi-Wan was also sweating a great deal, so at least Annikin knew that it wasn’t just him. “Try opening the airlock,” Annikin said, pointing towards the airlock on the far wall. “It may not do much, but it might help.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan said as he moved over the airlock and opened the hatch for air. A warm breeze made its way into the room, but considering the temperature they were in, the warm breeze felt cool as it hit their faces.

“Nothing like warm Tatooine air,” Annikin said, somewhat sarcastically.

“I doubt I could get used to it,” Obi-Wan told him.

“Well,” Annikin said, “I wouldn’t hit the swoop track then. If you can’t handle this standing still, try going five hundred kilometers an hour.”

“You race?” Obi-Wan asked as he leaned up against the wall next to the hatch to try to catch the breeze as it continued to flow into the hold.

“Not lately,” Annikin said, “but I’ve done my fair share. Hand me the hydrospanner?”

“Sure,” Obi-Wan said, turning to his side and grabbing the tool on the nearby stand and handing it to Annikin.

“Have you ever seen a swoop race?” Annikin asked, attempting to work into a conversation where he could learn more about Obi-Wan.

“They have a swoop track on Malastare,” Obi-Wan told him. “I saw a race a few years back with Jard there. They set up explosives on the track to make things a bit more interesting. In a race that started with nine, only four came out without having to go to a hospital or a morgue. I wouldn’t want to get mixed up in all that.”

“They don’t do anything fancy like that here,” Annikin said. “It’s just you, your bike and the desert walls.”

Annikin could remember every detail of his last race nearly a year earlier. He had been poised to finally win his first championship and make some real money for his family, but Sebulba the Dug, a well known racer, felt the need to play unfairly. As he and Annikin rounded the last corner of the final lap, Sebulba moved in close and nearly blinded him with the steam from his vent ports. Sebulba raced on and clinched that year’s title. If things had only been like they were centuries earlier, where racers raced against the clock rather than each other, then Annikin would have had a much better chance at winning that title.

“So how about you?” Annikin asked. “What do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” Obi-Wan asked as a reply, fumbling over what lie to tell so he would be able to keep the fact that he was a Jedi secret.

“Don’t worry,” Annikin said as he slid under the engine, working a few parts as he continued to talk, “your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that you’re a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan had nothing to say for a few moments. He never anticipated being found out, which was his first obvious mistake. He clearly hadn’t given Annikin enough credit and was sure that the young man was more perceptive than most others. Whether it was attunement to the Force or not was an entirely different story.

“What makes you think I’m a Jedi?” Obi-Wan said, almost sarcastically. “Do you have psychic powers?”

“No, I have eyes,” Annikin said, returning Obi-Wan’s sarcasm. “I saw your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon.”

Obi-Wan nearly smiled awkwardly in embarrassment, though he was able to hide it. He had hoped that by making the comment sarcastically it would give him a clue as to whether or not it was actually true, but Annikin did have a good point. There was no way that Obi-Wan could have hid his lightsaber for that long without being noticed. Perhaps Annikin wasn’t as attuned to the Force, or his own senses for that matter, as Obi-Wan had thought he was.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Obi-Wan said, “but I’m glad my secret is safe with you, because no one can know.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Annikin asked. “You’re pretty far away from the Republic.”

“I can’t tell you that now,” Obi-Wan said with a warm smile, “but perhaps later I can.”

“Fair enough,” Annikin said, knowing that he too would be just as cautious if he knew nearly nothing about the person he was speaking to. Even so, he still wanted to know more about Obi-Wan and what it was like in the Jedi Order, so he knew that there was no shame in asking questions about that. “Is it true that you Jedi aren’t allowed to love?”

“Well, that’s a common misconception,” Obi-Wan told him. “We’re meant to love all life, whether those lives are Jedi or Gungan or even the ancient followers of the Dark Side. That love allows us to live for the benefit of all life, but what we must give up is attachment. Someone who is attached can never know true freedom, and attachment can lead to desire, which can lead to the Dark Side.”

“So it’s more compassion than anything else,” Annikin said as he checked the fuel levels on the generator from beneath it.

“Yes, exactly,” Obi-Wan said as he knelt down to be at Annikin’s eye level. “Our compassion extends to all beings in the galaxy, and with an open and loving heart we direct our compassion for the benefit of the universe.”

“Have you ever actually fallen in love?” Annikin asked as he slid out from underneath the generator, becoming more and more interested in what Obi-Wan had to say.

Obi-Wan became visibly uncomfortable with the question and did little to hide it. It had been so long since Obi-Wan had thought about the one woman that he had ever loved, the one woman whom he would have given up everything just to be with. It had been so long since he had seen her, so long since he was able to tell her how she truly felt. Unfortunately, he would never have the chance to tell her that again.

“No,” Obi-Wan lied. “No, I haven’t. I’ve committed to the Way.”

“The Way?” Annikin asked as he tried to shove the hydrospanner into a socket on the edge of the generator.

“The Way of the Jedi,” Obi-Wan said proudly. “It’s our way of life.”

“It seems a bit arch- ”

Before Annikin could even finish speaking, the generator let out a large spark right where his hand was, sending him flying backwards on the ground up against the wall as he let out a fairly audible yell of pain. He jumped right back up, ignoring the pain as he ran back over to the generator to inspect the damage and see just how much trouble it had caused the repair efforts.

“Damnit,” Annikin yelled as he rubbed his eyes. “That just put us back two or three hours.”

“It’s getting late,” Obi-Wan said, noticing how tired Annikin was becoming. “We’ve been working for over twelve hours. We should both rest.”

Annikin nodded his head in agreement, not wanting to continue working with the risk of damaging what he had already fixed more than he just had. He grabbed his tools and put them on the nearby counter, putting them into his bag so they would all be organized for work the next day. After sliding them into the corner, he nodded to Obi-Wan and they made their way to the hatch with Threepio and Artoo just behind them. As they stepped out of the ship and made their way to their speeder, the two guards posted at the ship closed the hatch and remained at their position to await another day of hard work and labor.

After Obi-Wan and Annikin sped off towards the homestead, a small group of only four hermits made their way from the other side of the ship. They quickly and quietly tip-toed towards the guards, and as they stepped up behind them they used a pressure point on their shoulders to knock them unconscious. The leader of the group caught the guards as they began to fall and gently placed them on the ground. He motioned for his own guards to carry them onto the ship and let them rest comfortably, and as they did he pulled back his hood and awaited his men to return so they could begin working on just what needed to be done.

After dinner was over and the others began to help Shmi clean the kitchen and the small dining room, Annikin made his way up to the desert sands. He had missed the sunset that he usually enjoyed seeing, though it was not that big of a deal to him. It was the evening’s cool breeze and the nighttime air that always relaxed him, and he needed that relaxing after nearly derailing the entire repair process. It annoyed him to no end that he had made such an obvious mistake, though he tried his hardest not to let it bother him.

In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of the Bantha’s roaring and the Tusken Raiders howling. No one he knew cared for the primitive and savage race that lived within the desert wastes. All they did was attack and pillage settlements and homesteads. Reports of murder at the hands of Tusken Raiders had become more and more common over the previous years, though no one was able to make any sort of arrest because no one knew who carried out the attacks. They all wore robes and masks that made them all appear to look the same as if they were mindless drones that acted only on a basic and savage instinct.

As he looked out into the distance, he saw what he thought was a group of Tuskens remaining stagnant for a moment in the sands. As he tried to look deeper, he realized that he was wrong. Annikin grabbed his micro-binoculars from his tool belt and looked into the area where he saw activity and found that it was a group of people, presumably Humans, that were standing outside of the royal ship with torches. The hatch had been opened as well, leading Annikin to believe that there was someone or something inside of the ship.

As he put his binoculars back onto his belt, he realized that they could have been there for quite some time. He had told the royal guards that they didn’t need to stand guard and was able to convince Arcadia of that as well, but he quickly realized that doing so was a mistake. He ran back over to the main entrance and ran down the steps where he found the royal crew with Obi-Wan and Arcadia helping to clean the kitchen.

“There’s someone at the ship,” Annikin said, causing immediate looks of shock and worry from those that the vessel belonged to.

“Are you sure?” Captain Panaka asked.

“At first I thought it was just raiders in the distance,” Annikin told them, “but then I got a closer look and saw that there are a few people standing guard outside and at least one other person inside.”

“Let’s go,” Panaka shouted before pointing to two guards. “You and you, you’re with me.”

“I’m coming too,” Arcadia said, raising her hand to silence Panaka’s objections.

“So am I,” Jar told them, wanting nothing more than to be helpful.

Obi-Wan and Dooku nodded and they two stopped what they were doing and followed Annikin and the others out of the homestead. They ran to two nearby speeders and piled into them, Annikin driving one and Panaka driving another. Without hesitation, they moved the gear shifts into the top speeds and raced across the desert towards the ship. Within mere minutes, they arrived just outside the ship and found the intruders there waiting for them.

Panaka and the guards jumped out of their speeder and raised their guns as they ordered the intruders to stand down. Annikin grabbed a blaster from behind his seat and also aimed towards them while Obi-Wan and Dooku drew their lightsabers. Despite the immense show of force, the intruders guarding the vessel stood their ground until someone emerged from within the ship. When the intruder emerged and made his way down the ramp, his guards flanked behind him, clearly signaling that he was a man of great importance to them.

“I thought this would get your attention,” the leader said with a smile. “I assure you your weapons are not necessary.”

“Who are you?” Panaka asked, not lowering his blaster. “Where are my men?”

Annikin didn’t need to hear the leader’s answer to know who they were. Though he didn’t know what they called themselves, all of the locals knew them to be a group of highly religious hermits that lived within the Dune Sea. Cliegg referred to them as nothing more than crazy old wizards on more than one occasion, though Annikin had always been fascinated with the stories about them, however few there were. Even so, he was never able to see one face to face before they intruded on the royal ship, so it was something of a learning experience for him.

“Resting comfortably inside the ship,” the hermit said. “You’re free to get them whenever you’d like.”

“Who the hell are you?” Panaka asked, still pointing his blaster at the man’s head.

“I’m a friend,” the leader said reassuringly. “My name is Sarus, and I wanted to talk with your young friend here.”

At once, everyone turned their attention to a confused Annikin. He couldn’t understand why the religious hermits would want to speak with him, nor could he understand how they even knew who he was. He would certainly listen to what they had to say, but he knew that he would have to be very cautious about it. He knew next to nothing about the hermits and wasn’t about to let himself be put into harm’s way for anything.

“Alright,” Annikin said hesitantly, “let’s talk.”

“We can’t do it here,” Sarus said. “I need you and the two Jedi to come with me on a pilgrimage into the Dune Sea. There, and only there, can we speak about what needs to be spoken.”

“Us?” Dooku asked, not taking kindly to being told that he needed to embark on a hermitage out into the desert with someone he didn’t even know. “What could you possibly want with us?”

“I have information that you and the boy need,” Sarus told them, his voice reflecting the urgency that he felt. “The future of the galaxy depends on it.”

Annikin’s eyes widened, as he couldn’t even imagine what the future of the galaxy had to do with a small-time farmer like him. Obi-Wan and Dooku appeared to share that confusion, looking at him and Sarus with near disbelief and complete uncertainty. However, they all begrudgingly, albeit silently, agreed that they would go with him, all except for Dooku. Obi-Wan could tell that his former master was not willing to go, so he pulled him off to the side in the hopes of convincing him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “but this isn’t another ‘pet project’. If these people mean what they say, then they have information we need.”

“Oh please,” Dooku said, not trying as hard as Obi-Wan to keep his voice down. “They’re desert hermits. What could they possibly have to offer us?”

“You’re not going to get the answer to that question unless you go with us,” Obi-Wan reminded him, rolling his eyes at how little sense Dooku could make sometimes.

“I’m not walking through an entire desert just to be swindled by some oddball hermit,” Dooku told him, seemingly sticking to his decision.

Obi-Wan lowered and shook his head, trying to find some way to convince Dooku to go with him. It only took a few seconds to do so, as the memory of a mission on Manaan flooded back to him. Before the war, they had been sent there to investigate Selkath claims that an outside trade organization was illegally mining and stealing kolto, which had become relatively useless after the invention of bacta. Dooku fiercely refused to dive to the bottom of the rift with only an environmental suit, but Obi-Wan was able to challenge his pride and convince him to make the dive.

“I guess if you don’t think you can do,” Obi-Wan said with a hint of sarcasm, “then there’s nothing I can do to make you go.”

“It has nothing to do with my capability,” Dooku told him, clearly becoming annoyed.

“Then prove it to me,” Obi-Wan essentially demanded. “Go with them and show me that you can make it through the desert. Show me that you’re not afraid of a little harsh terrain at night.”

If Dooku was a normal person with a lack of control over his emotions, odds are he would have hit Obi-Wan. However, he knew better than that, and he knew that Obi-Wan had issued a direct challenge at him. It was just like it had been on Manaan and Dooku realized he had no choice but to venture out on some worthless mission to uncover whatever it is the hermits wanted from them.

Annikin nearly laughed aloud when he saw the reluctant look of agreement on Dooku’s face, because even though it was an agreement it was a look of clear annoyance and near disgust at what was about to happen. Annikin could only surmise that Dooku was not someone who cared for the desert sands, or having his pride and his capabilities challenged for that matter.

“I’ll go with you,” Jar said, nodding satisfaction when Obi-Wan gave him his nod of approval.

“So will I,” Arcadia said, immediately noticing the shocked and concerned looks of Panaka and her guards, “but without my guards.”

“My Lady,” Panaka said, “I can’t let you go out there alone.”

“Captain,” Arcadia said with a reassuringly warm smile, “I’ll have two Jedi, a farm boy and a warrior prince with me. I think that’s more than enough protection for one night, don’t you?”

Panaka stood his ground for a moment, but quickly nodded and bowed before the queen. With the queen’s blessing, the three soldiers made their way into the ship to collect the other guards to take them back to the homestead. Annikin watched as they disappeared into the ship before turning back to Sarus, who was already prepared to leave. Annikin looked over to the rest of the group who nodded, telling him that they were also ready to go. With that, Annikin and the others began to follow the hermits into the Dune Sea, though they had no idea or expectations as to what awaited them once they got there.

Chapter 10: The Cloners
As he brought his Jedi starfighter out of the hyperspace route it had been traveling, Mace looked out of the cockpit window and watched as the star tails caused from traveling through hyperspace dissipated and gave way to the normal view of space. At first, all he could see were the stars of Wild Space and the Rishi Maze trillions of kilometers away, if not even farther. As he brought the nose of his starfighter down, he caught his first glimpse of the planet beneath him.

Kamino, the home of the infamous cloners, was one of thirteen planets in its system south of the Rishi Maze, the dwarf satellite galaxy whose orbit continued to decay outside of the galaxy. Fierce climatic changes had submerged the continents of Kamino thousands, if not millions of years earlier and it drowned the planet under an ocean that covered the entire surface. The planet constantly had savage storms and immense bursts of lightning that Mace could see as he put his ship into orbit.

Before the rumors in the Senate about a clone army started to reach the ears of the Jedi, Mace had known virtually nothing about the Kaminoans other than the fact that they were cloners. After he had told his apprentice Padmé that he was leaving on a mission, he spent time in the Jedi Archives scouring the records for anything he could find out about the Kaminoans. There was little information about them, as they were fairly secluded from the rest of the galaxy. What he could find, though, was that they had a unique physiology. They had rear articulated legs and a dark blue skin with a triangular shaped chin and long, narrow blue eyes. They almost appeared to be lifeless in the holo-images he could find of them, a stark and ironic contrast to their primary occupations.

With the press of a button, the hyperspace ring around Mace’s Delta-7 Aethersprite-class starfighter disengaged. The ring was a hyperspace generator surrounding the entire craft, as the design was too small for a built-in hyperdrive and depended on the ring to move through hyperspace. When the small, sleek interceptor was safely away from the ring, Mace ignited the thrusters and brought the ship towards the planet, entering into the descent through the atmosphere.

“Time to find some answers,” Mace said to the computer console that relayed his message to his R4 astromech unit that was situated just below the hull of the vessel to help with navigation and repairs.

As he descended towards the surface, a transmission came through giving him coordinates to a landing pad at the capital city. He had hoped that he would be able to keep his arrival a surprise, though he had clearly underestimated the scanning abilities of the Kaminoans. He knew he shouldn’t have, as the Kaminoans clearly had incredible technology, but he luckily had a back up plan. As a Jedi, he knew that the only way to survive going into a potentially dangerous situation was to have at least ten different plans of actions, as unforeseen circumstances could always derail the one mission plan that someone had created. If that had happened, the ensuing trouble would have been far more than it was worth.

When the clouds of the atmosphere subsided, Mace was given his first view of the planet’s capital. Tipoca City was made up of a network of stilt structures that seemed to go on for hundreds of kilometers, making it the heart of Kaminoan society. Mace could tell from the design of the city that it was very similar to the architecture of Alderaan and Kashyyyk. The buildings were sleek and smooth, but also resembled the basic design of the Wookiee villages built in the giant trees of their homeworld. He could only assume that the Kaminoans thought highly of other civilizations and had found out what alien architecture looked like, despite being isolationists.

As he approached the city, his computer gave him the appropriate coordinates for the landing pad and he spotted it immediately. Even so, he flew past it and made his way around the immense city, wanting to view it for himself to try to get some sort of layout of it before he actually entered it. Even though he couldn’t see inside of it, he was able to guess which buildings were used for the actual cloning just based on their size, and if he was right, then the clone experiments were massive and quite possibly dangerous.

As he made his way back to the landing pad, he pressed a button on his console and the landing legs of the craft emerged from within. When it finally set down softly, he pulled up his hood and opened the hatch, stepping out into the cold rain that stung as it struck against his skin. He had to fight against the wind just to step outside, but he stepped onto the heavy steel walkway and began to make his way towards the doorway on the far side of the landing pad.

“Stay here,” Mace said to his droid as he continued to walk towards the door.

When he approached the edge of the pad, the door slid open and an immensely bright white light hit his face as he stepped into the brightly lit white halls. He pulled back his hood, though it had done little as he was still soaking wet. As he wiped away some of the water from his face, he looked around and found no one. Assuming that no one had seen him yet, he continued on his way down the hall.

The corridors were very brightly lit, but it only took a few minutes for his eyes to fully adjust to them. He slipped past a few rooms with Kaminoans busy inside of them, but he was able to make it past undetected. Finally, he approached one large door with two Kaminoans guarding it. Mace assumed that he would be immediately taken away by them, but instead they simply stood aside and the door slid open.

Although he wasn’t sure what to make of what was happening, he slowly and cautiously walked into the room and looked around. It was as brightly lit as the others and it almost seemed as if there were no floors or walls at all, but rather being a bright large expanse of nothingness. Even so, the doors slid shut behind him and a chair lowered itself from above. Taking the hint, Mace slowly sat down.

“I’ve been expecting you, Master Jedi,” a Kaminoan said as he turned around in the chair Mace had not noticed in front of him. “My name is Lamu Su, Supreme Ruler of Kamino.”

“You were ... expecting me, Supreme Ruler?” Mace asked curiously.

“Yes,” Lama Su told him. “It’s been sometime since our last correspondence, Master Sido-Dyas.”

“Sido...,” Mace began to say. “I’m sorry, master who?”

“You are Jedi Master Sido-Dyas,” Lama Su said suspiciously, “are you not?”

“My name is Mace Windy,” Mace told him. “I’ve never heard of Sido-Dyas before.”

Lama Su studied Mace with a strong curiosity. It was strange to hear that the Jedi Master was not who he expected, as Sido-Dyas had described himself in a way that seemed to be just like Mace; tall, dark skinned, very serious in nature. Of course, it was always possible that there many other leading Jedi that fit that same description, but Mace claimed that there was no one named Sido-Dyas. Not only that, but Sido-Dyas had told him he would arrive on the very same date Mace arrived. Either it was a strange coincidence or Mace was being less than truthful with him.

“Curious,” Lama Su said hesitantly. “Well, either way, you’ll be happy to hear that we are on schedule. Five hundred thousand units are ready with two million more well on their way. I hope you’ll be proud of the army we’ve built for your people.”

Mace raised an eyebrow, unsure as to whether or not the Republic intelligence had been wrong or if he was being deceived. The intelligence indicated that the army was to be used to invade the Republic from some outside force, but the Kaminoan leader seemed sincere. Mace turned his head for a moment, reaching through the Force and tearing down the barriers of the Supreme Ruler’s mind to search his thoughts and memories. Unless Lama Su had some way of changing his thoughts that were unknown to a Jedi Master, Mace could tell that the leader was telling the truth, or at the very least telling the truth as he understood it. It certainly did take some of the weight off of Mace’s shoulders.

“That’s good news,” Mace told him.

“We'd hoped that you’d be pleased,” Lama Su said. “Please tell your Jedi Council that their order will be met on time and in full.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Mace said, trying to sound as if he actually knew what the Kaminoan leader was talking about. “I hope you understand what kind of a responsibility you have here. We expect the best.”

“Of course, Master Windy,” Lama Su said. “You must be eager to inspect all of the units for yourself.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Mace said with a fake smile, “but first I have to contact my superiors. They’re expecting a progress report.”

“I will be here waiting when you return,” the Kaminoan said.

Mace stood up from his chair and bowed in respect before turning around and stepping out through the door that slid open as he approached it. He rounded the few halls he took to get to the Supreme Ruler in the first place and threw his hood back up as he stepped back out into the rain. He quickly made his way over to his starfighter, hugging his robes tightly to keep them from flying away in the torrential downpour of rain and wind.

“Arfour,” Mace shouted through the wind, “scramble code five to Coruscant, care of the old folk’s home.” The code and the terminology was used only in the most important of cases and when directed towards senior Jedi officials. It was to let Yoda and Ki-Adi know just how important his message was, and he knew it could possibly be one of the more important messages they would ever receive. He would not have time for an actual conversation with them, but at the very least he would be able to send them an update so they would know just what was happening on Kamino and alert the proper Senate officials as to the supposed true nature of the army.

“Master Yoda,” Mace shouted when Arfour told him that the transmission was ready, “I’ve met with the Supreme Ruler of Kamino. They’re growing a massive army of clones, but not for the reasons we thought. They say the army is for the Republic, not against it. I’ll be in touch when I have more. Mace out.”

Mace nodded to his small astromech droid who ended the transmission. Within seconds, the message was beamed out of the droid and across the galaxy where it would arrive at the Jedi Temple in only a matter of minutes. Mace hoped that Yoda would have a better understanding of what was happening on the small, oceanic world, as he was truly baffled as to what the intention of the Kaminoans was and who actually ordered the army of clones for the Republic.

Mace continued to walk along the enormous enclosed breezeway that overlooked the majority of the cloning and clone training facilities. He was very impressed with the technology that the Kaminoans used in creating the army, despite his moral reservations about creating one clone, let alone an army of clones that were identical in nearly every way. For all he knew their minds were exactly the same, lacking the ability to form their own personalities and their own lives. He had always been taught that the glory of creation was in the infinite diversity of life, so it was somewhat uncomfortable seeing tens of thousands of faces that were completely identical to one another.

The actual cloning areas made him more uncomfortable than the military training facility was walking through did. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of racks held glass spheres throughout the enormous cloning facilities and each sphere contained within it a clone embryo suspended in the fluid. As he reached into the Force, he could sense strong life forces within them, telling him that they were not empty and mindless drones that could do nothing but shoot and kill.

As he continued to walk down the breezeway, he and Lama Su entered an immense classroom area where thousands of clone students sat in neat and orderly rows of desks, being taught what they needed to know by their Kaminoan overseers. Each one was dressed the same and had the same haircut and facial features. It was as if he was looking at thousands of mirrors in the shining white walls of the facility, seeing the reflection of only one student thousands of times over.

“You mentioned growth acceleration,” Mace said. “How old are these children?”

“Physically, they are twelve years old,” Lama Su said, “but in reality they’re only three years old. If we didn’t use growth acceleration, a mature clone would take a lifetime to grow. Now we can do it in only ten years.”

“Impressive,” Mace told him truthfully, though he still found it uncomfortable.

“I hoped that you’d be pleased,” Lama Su said. “Clones can think creatively. You’ll find that they are immensely superior to droids, and that ours are the best in all the galaxy. Our methods have been perfected over many centuries.”

“And why do you clone?” Mace asked, wanting to understand the Kaminoans’ intentions. “Most societies consider cloning unethical and immoral.”

“Our religion dictates that we must do whatever we can to ensure the continuation of life here and across the galaxy,” Lama Su told him.

“Your religion?” Mace asked, physically surprised at the revelation of a religion preaching the use of cloning technologies. “I’ve never heard of a religion that teaches that you should make copies of one man thousands of times over. It’s immoral to most.”

“It was a question we struggled with as well,” Lama Su said as they continued to make their way through the breezeway and into the military staging area, “but after the great flood that nearly destroyed our society, the gods told us that we would have to preserve life everywhere however we could or else our society would be destroyed forever.”

Mace nodded, keeping up the illusion of intrigue whereas in reality the revelation of religiously-motivated cloners worried him to a fairly large extent. Had it simply been for profit it would have been one thing, but the Supreme Ruler seemed to genuinely believe that his society would collapse if he did not continue with the cloning policies that his ancestors had originally set forth. Whether they were dangerous because of it remained to be seen, but it was clear to him that caution would have to be used, lest the Republic actually face an army of clone invaders sometime in the future.

“You’ll find that they’re totally obedient,” Lama Su said, sensing that the subject needed to be changed back to the clones themselves. “We modified their genetic structure to make them less independent than the original host.”

“Who was the original host?” Mace asked, hiding his reservations about tampering with the genome of a sentient being.

“A man named Jango Fett,” Lama Su told him. “We felt that a Jedi Knight would have been the ideal host, but Sido-Dyas handpicked Fett himself.”

It took him a moment, but Mace quickly realized that Fett was a Mandalorian surname. He had studied Mandalorian history when he was younger, and one name that had come up was Cassus Fett, a bounty hunter thousands of years that lived thousands of years before him. Fett had been a Mandalorian from the Clan Fett, so unless the Clan Fett no longer existed then the clones were even more dangerous than he had realized.

“Where can I find Jango Fett?” Mace asked. “I’d like to talk to him.”

“I do not know,” Lama Su told him. “Unfortunately, he refused to stay here, despite our insistence. He does return every year for more genetic sampling, though.”

Mace nodded, knowing he would have to somehow find Jango Fett in order to understand more about where the clones came from. Still, feigning a lack of worry, he continued to watch with amazement as clones climbed up into military vehicles, fully armed and armored in white and black armor that ironically reflected the fact that they were clones. Some on the other side of the breezeway made their way into tubes, putting them to sleep for a few hours at a time to regenerate.

“Very disciplined,” Mace remarked.

“That is the key to the entire operation,” Lama Su replied. “They are very disciplined, yet they can think creatively. It is an important combination.”

As the tour continued, Mace was able to watch more or less the entire daily routine of a clone trooper at every level of their development. The culmination of the tour came only a few short minutes later when they stepped out onto a balcony that was sheltered from the brutal wind and rain over an immense parade ground. Below them, thousands of clone troopers dressed in their white armor and full-face helmets marched and drilled with the precision of pre-programmed droids. Entire formations, each made up of hundreds of clone soldiers, all marched as one throughout the parade field.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Lama Su asked.

Mace looked up, watching as the Kaminoan leader’s face clearly beamed with pride as he overlooked his prized creations. Mace wished that he could have thought the same as Lama Su, who clearly had no ethical reservations about what he and his people were doing. If Mace could have had the same line of thinking, he would have reported to the Jedi Council how pleased he was, though when he spoke with Yoda he would clearly have to express how worried he was over not only the ethical implications but the danger that the clones could pose.

The Jedi Master fully agreed with the Supreme Ruler that the clones were magnificent. No one, regardless of their opinion, would be able to do that. It was just that he could only imagine the brutal efficiency and tactics of people who were bred from war with Mandalorian heritage. For the first time, he felt that he could truly appreciate the reasoning behind disbanding the Army of Light and many of the Republic’s military forces during the Ruusan Reformations, as having an army such as the clone army would more than likely lead only to war. Sido-Dyas, whoever he was, clearly knew this.

Mace quickly opened the hatch to his starfighter and slipped inside, quickly closing the hatch once again to avoid soaking the pilot seat even more than it already had been. He started up some of the power in his craft, particularly in the long-range transceiver, so he could speak with Yoda and Ki-Adi, this time in real time without having to send a message across the galaxy. With the push of a few buttons, his holographic imager ascended from within a hole on the control panel and pointed itself directly at him as it projected the images of Yoda and Ki-Adi sitting in Yoda’s chambers before him.

“Masters,” Mace said grimly to the shaking-blue holograms in front of him, “the Supreme Ruler took me through the cloning and training facilities. I was impressed, to say the very least.”

“To be used for the Republic, this army is?” Yoda asked.

“Yes,” Mace replied. “They claim that a Jedi Master named Sido-Dyas placed the order for this army nearly ten years ago.”

“Master who?” Ki-Adi asked.

“That’s what I said,” Mace told him. “I told them that there was no Jedi with that name, but the ruler told me that I fit the description of him.”

Mace watched as Yoda and Ki-Adi looked at one another with a momentarily suspicious expression, though he didn’t let it bother him. He knew that they knew he would never do something as foolish as ordering an army of such a nature without the knowledge or consent of the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate. Even so, the mystery continued to deepen as Sido-Dyas’ name continued to come up in his conversations with Lama Su.

“He also wanted me to remind you and the council,” Mace continued, “that if you want more clones than the hundreds of thousands that have already been created, it will take more time to grow them.”

“Hundreds of thousands?” Ki-Adi asked with a shocked tone and expression.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Mace said. “The host was a man named Jango Fett, and based on his name I think he’s a Mandalorian.”

“Find him, you must,” Yoda said, clearly concerned. “If involved the Mandalorians are, grave danger the Republic is in.”

"I’ll report back when I’ve made contact,” Mace affirmed.

As the hologram disappeared, Mace hoped that he had not made a liar out of himself. He had no idea where he would be able to find Jango Fett, nor how he would locate him if he even was able to ascertain his general location. He would have to return to the Supreme Ruler and obtain a genetic readout of the clones in order to be able to confirm Jango Fett’s identity if and when he found him.

Mace opened the hatch once again and threw up his hood as he stood up from his seat and stepped out of the craft. As he slowly walked back through the torrential downpour and the immense gusts of wind that the planet was essentially being attacked with, he could not help but worry as to how the mystery would continue to unravel. Truth be told, he didn’t want to know anything more than he already did, as he knew that he would not like what he would soon find, whatever that was.

Yoda sat on his cushion in his meditation chambers with Ki-Adi standing at the far side of the room. The small, diminutive Jedi Master had his eyes closed tightly in deep meditation, trying to reach out through the Force to find some sort of answer as to what was happening with the clones and if it was somehow connected to the situation on Utapau. What he found greatly disturbed him, as what he found was nothingness. For whatever reason, the Force had no answers to give him. It was as if a dark hand had reached across his plain of vision within the Force and blocked out the light of all the stars, leaving a vast and empty expanse of absolute darkness and complete and total nothingness.

“Blind we are if the creation of this army we could not see,” Yoda said.

Ki-Adi nodded his head in agreement. He wished that it wasn’t true, but he knew that if the Jedi Council and the strongest of the Jedi Masters could not find clairvoyance enough to see through the Force and uncover what was happening then the Dark Side of the Force was growing strong. It was something he had never considered before he had learned of the clone army, though he knew it was something that he and the other members of the Jedi Council would have to deal with for a long time to come.

Perhaps the only way to move forward with such a handicap was to let the people know that there was such a handicap. Ki-Adi knew that such an action could prove to be suicidal to the Jedi Council, but there was not much else that they would be able to do to deal with the crisis. It was a risk that they would have to consider taking, so long as Yoda approved of such an action. Knowing Yoda, though, Ki-Adi would have a harm time convincing him of doing so. Despite that, he couldn’t let that hold back his opinion on the matter.

“It may be time to inform the Senate that our ability to use the Force has diminished,” Ki-Adi said with some reservation and a hint of regret.

“Only those behind this plot know of our weakness,” Yoda told him. “If informed the Senate is, multiply our adversaries could.”

Yoda would never approve of taking such a course of action. He knew that it was very likely that whoever was behind the situation with the clone army was in league with someone in the Galactic Senate, as it was the only way that the Republic Intelligence could have missed the existence of the army for nearly ten years. If the Senate was to be informed of the handicap of the Jedi, then whoever in the Senate was involved would be able to exploit the situation to their advantage. Neither Yoda nor the Jedi Council would be able to afford taking such a bold and risky course of action during the conflict on Utapau, as it had the ability to spiral into an all-out war if the clones or any other army was used improperly.

As far as Yoda knew, no one on the Jedi Council would stand for that.

Chapter 11: The Ophuchi
The Dune Sea, a deserted and forsaken region of the desert wastes. The area was a barren tract incapable of supporting a population other than the native species, as the vast sand plains were destitute of moisture and vegetation. The large sector of the backwater world was once a vast inland sea, but extreme shifts in temperature caused the water to run dry and make the entire area inhospitable to almost all life. A Human could easily dehydrate after only thirty minutes under the scorching suns, a fact that the hermits were all too aware of, as they had lost many brethren who believed that they were stronger than the rest. Over the years, that mindset diminished to the point where it was nearly non-existent. Sarus looked up to the stars in the sky, taking in the night’s cool breeze. They had been walking nonstop for nearly six hours and were only minutes from their destination, but the wind provided a constant source of refreshment whenever he tired during his journeys. He had traveled to the far corners to Tatooine and back, and was always able to find out something new about himself by searching within, which was the true test of the desert wastes. While some preferred lush, green worlds, Sarus could not see himself living anywhere else. Along with his personal history on Tatooine, he knew whatever was documented about the history of the entire world, especially the Dune Sea. During the time of the Infinite Empire of the Rakata, a Rakatan star temple was built in the eastern Dune Sea and a star map with the partial location of a great doomsday weapon was hidden there. Though the accounts were rough, there was a legend passed down throughout the generations of hermits that spoke of a powerful Jedi Knight using that information to track down and destroy that weapon. Some said that the Jedi Knight used the weapon for himself and became a megalomaniac, though he always preferred to believe otherwise. Even though Sarus felt at home in the desert, others were not as open to such an extreme environment. Dooku could barely keep up with the rest of the group because of his age, and it took every ounce of strength he had physically and mentally with the Force to keep him going. He was determined to prove to Obi-Wan that he was fully capable of making it into a desert and back without collapsing, as no one challenged his ability to do anything without being proven wrong. He had held that same mindset for his entire life and it had yet to fail him even once. Obi-Wan also did not care for the desert, though he was fully capable of traversing it without falling behind as his former master was. Still, he had to give Dooku credit, as Obi-Wan knew very few people Dooku’s age who could still survive the desert wastes on foot for hours on end, even in the cooler night time environment. Obi-Wan had only been in desert environment for extended period once years earlier during survival training, but as he made his way through the sands he could still remember everything about his previous experience, and it was not enjoyable for obvious reasons that he did not care to think about. By and large, Jar was the one having the hardest time in the trek. Even though the temperature had dropped significantly since the daytime, the air and environment were still so dry that he could barely handle it. He had made sure that while he was working during the day, to only stay outside and work for short periods of time before resting for a few minutes in the cool interior of the Lars homestead, but he did not have that luxury on the pilgrimage. He had not thought of the strain it would put on him when he agreed to go, and he did not realize how accustomed he was to the water and the swamps of Utapau. Still, he was not one to complain when things became difficult, as his time in the Gungan military had taught him how to survive. All he could do was to be sure he was staying hydrated. Even though she too had become accustomed to the environment of Utapau, Arcadia was able to adapt to the harsher environments of Tatooine. Despite his obvious political faults, her father knew exactly what needed to be done to prepare her for any given situation, and she considered him a great father because of it. When she was eighteen, Veruna had sent her to survival training in the Vaj Desert of Ingo. It was a backwater world in the Mid Rim with a hardly organized government. Because the planet also had two frozen continents, she also went through survival training in the colder regions. According to her group trainer, they were killing two mynocks with one stone by remaining on the planet twice as long as usual. Arcadia was away from her homeworld for an entire year as she trained for dozens of situations in numerous different environments, and wandering through the desert was only one of them. It had been hard for her in the desert training at first, but after a few weeks she was able to adapt to it and she knew exactly what needed to be done to stay hydrated and to retain as much energy as possible. The latter was especially important to her, as she knew it was very likely that they would end up walking back to the homestead within a short period of time, and the return trip would be during the day. As each of the outsiders watched and reflected on their own experiences in the harsh desert environment, Annikin watched on from behind. He had lived on Tatooine for his entire life, though he never truly cared for the desert. It was tolerable and generally comfortable to him, but in the end he would have much rather been on a less arid world. He had heard stories of the queen’s homeworld of Utapau, mostly about its beauty and comfort. Because he had possibly made a friend in the planet’s ruling monarch, he hoped that he would be able to easily visit it one day. Realizing where he was, Annikin noticed he had lost track of the time as he and the others made their way through a tunnel that led them beneath one of the larger sand dunes. After he stepped through the entryway, the last one to do so, a guard dressed much like the rest of the hermits pulled a sand-covered door out from the stone to hide the entrance to wherever they were going. The tunnel was dark and cold, with a surprising amount of moisture on the walls, considering the drought, but it did not take long for the group to reach their destination. Annikin stood with the others in an unexpected and stunned silence as they made their way into the underground colony. To their surprise, it was more than just simple caves and caverns, which was what they had all expected. Instead, for such a simple people it was an architectural masterpiece. The entire underground was carved out of the sparkling quartz walls with rooms and elegant fixtures throughout. It was quite literally a working civilization with dozens of people making their way throughout the area carrying food, water, clothing and laundry as they went about their nightly chores.

The settlement, or at least the part that they could see, had three levels, all being held up by strong stone spires that had been chiseled out of the rock. Each level seemed to be lit by dozens of torches spread throughout the entire area. The color was somewhat lacking, as the smooth rock walls were not painted in anyway. It ended up being a sparkling tan and brown environment, though such a design went well with the rest of Tatooine, perhaps even more magnificent due to the people who had built it. The main area of the area they stood in seemed to almost be guarded over by a large statue of a man that none of the outsiders recognized, so they assumed that it was someone important to the hermits.

Even more remarkable was the people themselves. To anyone who had seen outside society, it was strange to think that such a seemingly primitive society could still exist. The food was being baked right on the stones and the bread was being rolled in the hands of the people. The water was pumped straight from the ground and carried to water purification areas to make sure it was not harmful to the people. Even the clothing was washed by hand in silver water tubs with soap that came right out of a bottle. It was as if they had gone back in time. Throughout his childhood, Annikin and his friends had heard rumors about underground civilizations in the Dune Sea, but he never believed them. He always knew the Dune Sea to be a barren area that was incapable of supporting life, but the hermits had obviously stumbled onto one of the few habitable areas of the region. He was greatly impressed, to be sure, but it came as a surprise that so many people were able to remain hidden for so long, especially to Jawas and Tusken Raiders, who were always on the hunt for treasure and prey, respectively. More so than the others, Obi-Wan and Dooku could not believe their eyes. Obi-Wan expected to find out that there was more to the hermits than what met the eye, but Dooku was completely shocked as to what they had found. He assumed that they were just simple, primitive hermits who were looking to swindle them out of money or supplies, but it was clear to him that he had been wrong. Whether or not that was a good thing had yet to be decided, though he knew that whatever the decision was he would have something interesting to report back to the other Jedi Masters about the people. Sarus could not help but laugh as he saw the stunned reaction of the travelers. He had deliberately refrained from telling them where they were headed simply so he could see their reactions to the underground world that he had helped lead for many years. It was always a joy to see people so impressed by something of such simplicity, but he had worried that the two Jedi would not be as impressed due to the stereotypes that they were too arrogant to see past their own impressive order. He was happy to admit that he was wrong in that regard. “Welcome, my friends,” Sarus said as he pulled off his jacket and threw it to one of the young men standing near him. “We’ll help you get comfortable, as we hope you stay with us for a short while.” “Who are you?” Arcadia asked her tone stunned as she continued to look around the vast civilization that the people had created. “We are the Ophuchi Clan,” Sarus told her, “but I’ll explain more about that later. For now, please, come. We’ve prepared a feast in your honor.”

Obi-Wan could hardly hold back his amusement as he saw Dooku’s eyes light up when Sarus told them that there was to be a feast. If Dooku was at fully energy, Obi-Wan knew that he probably would have had some sort of comment regarding the hermits' hospitality, though everyone was caught at moments of weakness every once and awhile. Truth be told, Obi-Wan could hardly blame him. He was also very tired and hungry from their long journey on foot through the desert wastes, so he knew that whatever hospitality they had to offer him and the others would prove to be very useful for the long journey back to the Lars homestead.

As Sarus began to make his way through the crowd that had gathered to look at the visitors, the group followed close behind him. Their path led them through a small part of the underground village and underneath the large statue they had seen on the way in. Because they were closer than they had been, they could tell that the statue was of a fairly young man, no older than thirty-five standard years old. He was dressed in simple warrior’s attire, and the Ophuchi had even made it so that the statue was somewhat colorful. The figure, who had long hair with a beard, wore a brown tunic covered with black armor with a symbol on it that none of the outsiders had ever seen. It resembled something of a serpent mixed with a dove, though it was somewhat faded and hard to make out. He had a case of arrows slung over his shoulder, though they were just barely visible with the cloak that covered his shoulders and back. In his hand was a blade with two large jewels on the hilt, one of them crimson and the other emerald.

Annikin looked up as he passed underneath the unique piece of artwork, drawn to the design of it. It was not something he or anyone else would expect to see on Tatooine. Cliegg had always told him that Tatooine was the planet that art and beauty had forgotten about, so it was refreshing to see that he was only partially correct. What surprised him even more was that it was the Ophuchi who created it, but he was not disappointed by the fact that he had misjudged them so hastily. If anything, he was happy to see that he had been proven wrong.

As the last Ophuchi guard passed underneath the statue, Sarus led the group down an old stone stairwell. Again, the moisture that had gathered in the area surprised Annikin. It had been so long since he had felt such a cool environment that was actually natural, so it was a pleasant surprise. The moisture only continued to increase as they made their way further down the stairwell and into a large rotunda of rooms that Annikin surmised were for housing purposes. The people appeared to live quite comfortably, albeit somewhat primitively.

After passing through the housing area, or at least what they had seen of it, Sarus led them into a large stone chamber lit by candles that adorned the walls. In the center of the chamber was a massive stone table with dozens of different selections of food on it. Sarus was pleased that the group seemed to thoroughly enjoy what he was showing them, as it was not often that he made sure that his people acquired the goods necessary to create a feast of such magnitude. The effort that went into smuggling the right amounts of goods in small portions out of the spaceports required a great deal of work on the part of his people.

Annikin could not remember the last time he had ever seen so much food at once, assuming he ever had. There were numerous different meat selections and even more choices of fruits and vegetables, some that he had never even seen before. Wine and the traditional blue milk of Tatooine had been placed next to each plate, which had already been given a rather generous selection of all of the different meals. Neither Annikin nor the others knew if they would even be able to finish such a feast, though they would, of course, put in a good effort so they did not seem rude in front of their incredibly gracious host.

“Please,” Sarus said with his arms outstretched towards the table, “sit down. I’m sure we could all use a meal after our long journey.”

There was little hesitation from the group, as they all quickly made their way to the seats around the table. Sarus made his way to the head of the table and invited Annikin and the two Jedi to sit beside him, which the three of them agreed to. Sarus knew that Annikin and the Jedi did not know each other very well, as the latter had only arrived two days earlier, but he hoped to change that with the information he would reveal to them in due time at the end of the meal.

“Please join me in blessing this food,” Sarus said as he and the others bowed their heads, though he could tell that the others were not used to such a custom. “For the bounty laid before us, may the Force make us thankful and ever mindful of the needs of others. Amen.”

The others nodded, and when Sarus placed a cloth on his lap and picked up his utensils they took it as a sign that it was the proper time to begin eating. None of them wasted anytime in beginning their meals, nor did Sarus, as he was just as hungry as the rest of them. He had simply learned from the trials of the desert how to mask the discomforts of hunger and hydration until the time came when he was in dire need of nourishment. Very rarely did that happen to him or those closest to him, but there were always times when accidents did happen.

Annikin was surprised at the taste of the food that he had been given. Most food on Tatooine had been processed more than once to preserve it, but what they were given tasted fresh. It was an additional mystery to add to the Ophuchi people, a people that Annikin was becoming very interested in. He had, of course, heard about their existence in his youth, but they were always dismissed as fairy tales about wizards and heretical hermits that had spent too much time in the sun. He kept those warnings in mind, but it was clear to him that they were a peaceful people and had no intention of harming him or his new friends.

For a few minutes, everyone simply ate their meals. Annikin watched in amazement at how quickly the outsiders ate, telling him how accustomed they were at eating larger meals at set times of day. Annikin had grown up in an environment that had taught him to prolong the amount of time it took to feel hungry, though that was not to say he did not need it after such a long trek on foot. He too was greatly appreciative of the food and spent a few minutes eating much of it as well, though he was uncomfortable with such a long silence in a larger group of people and felt that it would be up to him to break that silence.

“That was an impressive statue we walked under back there,” Annikin said as he wiped his mouth of his food. “Who was it of?”

“Our prophet,” Sarus told him, placing his utensils on the table as he clasped his hands together and leaned forward to speak, “but we’re not worthy enough to speak his name or even tell his story aloud. What I can say is that he was the first to discover the true potential of what you call the Force.”

“You don’t call it the Force?” Dooku asked, intrigued by the people and greatly interested in learning more about their customs, which surprised even him, considering his initial opinion of them.

“Not exactly,” Sarus replied. “We call it the Force of Others, as the power of it is generated by life-force of all other beings. We’ve become somewhat accustomed to calling it the Force for short, especially after our people arrived on Tatooine.”

“That’s one thing I wanted to ask,” Arcadia said before taking a sip of her wine. “How did your people get all the way out here?”

Sarus recalled the stories he had heard when he was just a boy. The schism that had forced the great order to split into two greatly intrigued him throughout his entire life, as it was a story of political corruption as well as betrayal. There were very few points throughout history where such a defining event happened, and he felt fortunate to be one of the descendants of an event that truly reshaped the galaxy, even though it had been covered up by the entirety of the Galactic Republic and the true information lost to the ages.

“Our ancestors were part of a small splinter faction that had been part of what you now call the Jedi Order,” Sarus told them, not wanting to give them too much information on his people, as it would be the task of others to do that in the future. “After a rift was created between some Jedi, our people left and found themselves here in the Dune Sea.”

“And you’ve been here ever since?” Jar asked him curiously.

“Quite comfortably, actually,” Sarus said, “as much as it might surprise you.”

“To be honest,” Jar said, “it does. I wouldn’t be able to survive here for very long, considering my native environment.”

It felt strange being away from his home. Jar had never traveled off world before, let alone to a world that had an environment completely opposite of the one he had been accustomed to his entire life. Though he had not lived in the underwater communities of Otoh Gunga for years, the swamps of Utapau were a damp and moist region that were perfect for an amphibious creature, such as himself. He was trained to survive in difficult situations, though he had found it very hard to make it through the desert without succumbing to his exhaustion. At least he was able to feel more relaxed in the moist underground village that the Ophuchi had cleverly built.

“There were some Ophuchi who felt the same way, my friend,” Sarus continued. “Only a few months ago, a group of our young people decided to give up their heritage and made the mistake of trying to become part of normal society. They tried living in Mos Eisley, but they didn’t realize they were walking into such a merciless hive of scum of villainy.”

Even though he had lived in the Core his entire life, Obi-Wan had heard horror stories from Mos Eisley. There were constant riots that started from fights, there were murders and every type of mercenary, smuggler and bounty hunter one would never want to run into could be found there. Obi-Wan could not imagine going to such a place and he would do his best to avoid it while he was on Tatooine, because he could only imagine how unwelcome the population would make a Jedi Knight feel.

“I take it by your past tense that things didn’t go very well,” Obi-Wan told him with a look of concern on his face.

“No, they didn’t,” Sarus said. “The locals branded them crazy wizards and the worst of the traders were able to exploit the local fear.”

“How so?” Dooku asked, though his expression proved to be less-than-concerned.

“They were taken as slaves,” Sarus said, “by the Trade Federation, no doubt. We thought we had seen the last of those barbarians when Iaco Stark started to plunder their ships, but he didn’t exactly turn out any better. A two-timing backstabber is what he was.”

The mentioning of Iaco Stark drew raised eyebrows from Obi-Wan and Dooku, considering he had been the sole reason behind the war that they both wanted to forget about. Before the war actually started, Stark had been a smuggler in the Outer Rim that raided and stole from Trade Federation ships. He sold them back to the people of the Outer Rim at prices high enough to make a profit, though still lower than the Federation’s prices. It made him a hero to the people of the Republic, because he was one of the first and only people to effectively stand up to the slave-holding trade conglomerate.

Stark was not exactly looking out for the people, though. Using his influence, he brought together smugglers, pirates, mercenaries and bounty hunters to create the Stark Commercial Combine. With his newfound strength in numbers, he became a force to be reckoned with, especially when he set his eyes on the Federation and the Republic. Even so, he did not attack the Federation, but instead he made a deal with them that, in the end, led to war with the Republic.

The rest, as the expression went, was history. Obi-Wan and Dooku had tried for many years to forget about the pointless conflict, though they both came to terms with the fact that the memories would always be with them and the events helped shape who they were and who they would become. Their real concern ended up being for the people of the Outer Rim, as they knew that the Stark Hyperspace War did not help the image of the Republic in their eyes.

When Sarus mentioned that Ophuchi had become Federation slaves, the Stark Hyperspace War was the last thing to cross Arcadia's mind. She simply could not take her mind off of the suffering of her own people and how she felt that she had abandoned them. Most people on Utapau did not see her family favorably after the unpopular reign of her late father, so she did not even want to begin contemplating how the people would perceive her. She could only hope that they would see that she did everything politically possible to end the violence on the planet.

“I’m still always amazed at how low the Federation sinks,” Arcadia said, breaking the silence that had befallen the group, “but it’s hard to believe that they would have done that a few months ago. The Republic’s new anti-slavery laws for the outlying systems - ”

“The Republic doesn’t exist out here,” Sarus reminded her, somewhat coldly. “We have to make due on our own.”

“But the Senate said the Federation is complying with the laws,” Arcadia said, showing the partial naivety of her youth, “even though the Neimoidians hate them. It’s why they invaded my homeworld. That’s the whole reason we’re even here.”

“I’m sorry about your world,” Sarus quickly said with an edge, clearly not enjoying the subject, “I truly am, but do you really believe that a few new laws are going to stop Nute Gunray from making his trade profits?”

“No,” Arcadia said, with a defeated tone after a mew moments, realizing he was right. “No, I suppose not.”

Dooku was surprised at how defensive and relatively rude Sarus had gotten. Despite his normally rude and sarcastic tone, he felt that it was uncalled for. It may have made him a hypocrite, but he still felt that it should not have been said with so much of an edge. It was at that moment that he remembered that Sarus had brought them there because he had to speak with him, Annikin and Obi-Wan, and he could only assume that they had not just had the conversation that was intended.

“If I remember right,” Dooku said, “you brought us down here because you needed to talk to us about something.”

“Oh, yes,” Sarus said as he wiped his mouth of his wine and stood up, looking genuinely happy about the fact that he had been reminded about his mission. “If you’re finished with your meal, I’ll bring you to one of our sanctuaries. We can talk about why I brought you here once we arrive.”

“Is it far?” Annikin asked, not looking forward to the prospect of walking a great distance so soon after walking through the night.

“It’s only a few minutes away,” Sarus said as he began walking towards an open doorway that the Ophuchi guards had revealed. “Please, follow me.”

The group stood up from the table and threw down their washcloths, quickly following Sarus out of the room as he had already made his way into the catacomb that would lead them to the Ophuchi sanctuary. None of them knew what to expect, but even Dooku and Arcadia, who were somewhat annoyed at Sarus, could not resist the potential discoveries they would make and later be able to share with their respective peoples.

Annikin, however, was somewhat more reluctant. He felt that Sarus regarded him in some high esteem, which he did not care for. He knew virtually nothing about these people, aside from what Sarus said, and he had no idea why their leader would hold him in a high regard. Still, he was curious to see what Sarus had to offer, and to see what kind of a man he truly was. The back and forth between Sarus and the others was interesting to him, as it was not often that he was able to see outsiders discuss affairs such as the Stark Hyperspace War with natives of Tatooine. In the end, if the sanctuary was half as interesting as the Ophuchi themselves, Annikin at least knew he would be in for an illuminating night of discovery.

Chapter 12: Prophecy
When the darkness of the catacombs subsided and light began to penetrate through an entryway at the end of the colossal tunnel, the group realized that Sarus had brought them to the ancient cave monastery that he had spoken of when they left the feast. It took about half of a standard hour to get to, though it was nothing like walking through the Dune Sea. The moisture on the cave walls provided a great source of comfort, as it cooled down the entire area to the point where natives of Tatooine would likely shiver in the unfamiliar temperature.

Annikin was one of those people. Though he was able to hide it fairly well, the moisture did provide what proved to be a strange environment to him. He was used to the scorching heat and his body had become accustomed to it, so the cooler atmosphere of the catacombs and the cave was strangely cold, although it did feel intoxicating to him. Annikin had always wanted to know what such an environment felt like, and it seemed as if fate, or at least coincidence, had provided him that opportunity. If he was to ever leave Tatooine for another world, having a basic sense of the environment would ease with such a large transition.

To the off-worlders, however, the environment was not surprising. It was more refreshing than anything else, as the heat of Tatooine was something that they were not used to. Obi-Wan and Dooku were used to the regulated and artificial atmosphere of Coruscant that was provided by orbital weather stations, while Arcadia and Jar were used to the cool and damp environment of Utapau. It was a welcome relaxant, considering they knew they would soon have to traverse the desert once more, and it would be during the daytime rather than the night.

Within a few minutes of seeing that prophetic light at the end of the tunnel, the party stepped out of the catacombs and into the ancient cave sanctuary. To everyone but Sarus, the cave was like nothing they had ever seen before, being completely unique compared to anything else of its kind. The only source of light in the wide open cave were the torches that were firmly attached to the walls, which set a welcome, yet mysterious, atmosphere for those who were not accustomed to it. Strange cave paintings adorned the stone walls, and they were seemingly ancient in design with numerous different symbols of animals and what appeared to make up an ancient alphabet.

As Sarus led the group towards a large, smooth wall with a few stone seats in front of it, Dooku stepped out of the line and made his way to the wall that had the symbols, which he believed were part of an alphabet that was possibly used by the ancient Ophuchi people. He had always been interested in archaeology, and it became almost a passion when he was a Padawan, after he went on a survey mission with Master Yoda on Pho Ph’eah. The natives of the world had many interesting artifacts and writings in their caves, though the Ophuchi symbols were certainly unique to Dooku, as he had seen nothing like them before. The only recognizable symbols were those of animals, though he knew that there could be a thousand different interpretations as to what they meant. “Fascinating,” Dooku said sincerely with a whisper.

“I’d hoped you would find this interesting,” Sarus said as Dooku turned around, not realizing that Sarus had approached him from behind.

“They are unique,” Dooku told him as he turned back to look at the symbols once again, still unable to ascertain what any of them could mean.

“I have something even better than that,” Sarus said, noticing Dooku’s increased fascination as the Jedi Master turned back around.

Dooku looked around the Ophuchi leader to see the others already sitting close to the wall on the stone slabs that had obviously been placed there as chairs, seeing that they were waiting for him. Not wanting to waste any time in learning more about the caves, Dooku stepped away from the wall and took a seat next to Obi-Wan, who seemed genuinely pleased that his former master was appearing to be more open to the possibility of learning something from the Ophuchi.

Even though the others were clearly fascinated by what they were seeing, Annikin had no time for that. His thoughts were a jumble of confused thoughts as he tried to figure out what it all had to do with him. Sarus seemed to take an interest in him, but he still could not understand why. He simply was unable to grasp the idea that symbols on a cave wall might actually have something to do with him, assuming that was what Sarus even wanted. Still, that seemed like the likely situation to him, as he could think of no other reason as to why Sarus would bring a farmer like him down to a cave filled with paintings with two Jedi, a ruling monarch and an exiled prince.

As Dooku took his seat, Sarus sat down on the slab up against the cave wall near a clustered group of symbols. The cave was always a source of intoxication to him, as he always felt like he was able to find a new facet of himself and the great mysteries of life when he meditated there. Ever since he was a child, he had heard the stories of how his people had found the caves, and while he knew that many outsiders would dismiss it as nothing more than a fairy tail, he believed it with all of his heart.

“My people have come to these caves as a means of spiritual guidance for generations,” Sarus told them without an actual question having been posed, as he knew that they would ask the very questions he expected from an Ophuchi child who was brought to the caves for the first time. “According to legend, our people were first led to these caves when the spirit of the Shaman of the Whills began appearing to them. The clan had become disorganized, but the Shaman led them here and was able to show them the true path that they needed to take to fulfill their destinies.”

“The Shaman of the Whills?” Obi-Wan asked curiously.

“The Whills are an ancient species spoken of on these very walls,” Sarus said, pointing to the writings directly behind him as he stood up and stepped towards the wall. “These writings speak of how they were organized by our ancestors and brought to a world far from here to record the history of the galaxy. For thousands of years, they awaited the arrival of a shaman who would help guide them and tell them about the history they had not seen. A few thousand years ago, he arrived to them and he’s helped many people since then.”

Jar listened attentively to the story that Sarus was sharing with them. Though he did not know Sarus’ thoughts, Jar proved him right by being somewhat skeptical of the story that was being told. He did not disbelieve what was being said, though he did not fully believe it either. He simply did not have enough experience with the Ophuchi to know whether or not what they were saying were true historical facts or simple religious myths.

“Who was he?” Jar asked, setting aside his skepticism to learn more.

“His name is lost,” Sarus said regrettably, “though we do know that he studied both sides of the Force at one point in time, before realizing the true path that he needed to take in life. That path led him to his death, upon which he became one with the Force and transcended reality to become a celestial spirit that dwelled in the monastery of the Whills with our prophet.”

Annikin leaned in closer to get a better view of the writings behind Sarus. Despite his continuing confusion, the ancient mythical lore of the Ophuchi people was interesting to him. Tatooine was normally a boring place where the only stories told were about far off wars with the Jedi and the Republic, so it was refreshing to hear a story that, at one point, involved Tatooine and had more bearing on people than a simple crusade between rival factions in the Core Worlds.

“What do the writings behind you say?” Annikin asked as Sarus turned around to read them.

Sarus leaned in towards the writings and blew air from his mouth to clear some of the dust that had gathered over the texts. They were faded and somewhat harder to make out then they would have been thousands of years earlier, and Sarus’ eyes were not what they used to be, but he was still able to make out the exact words if he leaned in closer. While he knew exactly what the stories said, he never memorized the exact wording of the scriptures on the walls.

“It’s the words of our prophet when he was on his death bed,” Sarus said, allowing them to get into the proper mindset. “You and your descendants will go out among the stars and find a race of great wisdom called the Whills. They will accept their destiny and follow you to dwell in the light of the Ashlan Nebula. On the fourth planet, they will record our story. The Whills will tell the story of our people and a great republic that will last for over a thousand generations. The Whills will be sustained by their task until told otherwise. When the shadow of the Bogan falls upon them, the Ashla will not desert them because in the time of greatest despair there shall come a savior, and he shall be known as the Son of the Suns.”

Immediately upon hearing the final words of the writing, Obi-Wan and Dooku’s heads seemingly snapped as the turned to face one another. Words did not need to describe what they were thinking, as they both knew for a fact where the final words had come from. It was from the sole remaining line of a prophecy that spoke of the coming of a Chosen One who would bring balance to the Force by supposedly destroying the Sith once and for all. The line of prophecy had been dismissed after the New Sith Wars when the Brotherhood of Darkness was destroyed and a team of Jedi killed the sole remaining Dark Lord of the Sith, so hearing the words came as great surprise to the two Jedi.

“Yes, Master Jedi, you are correct,” Sarus told them, knowing exactly what they were thinking. “It comes from what you call the Prophecy of the Chosen One.”

“How do you know of the prophecy?” Dooku asked, with his tone seemingly irritated after hearing the words that Sarus spoke.

“Our ancestors wrote it,” Sarus said kindly, not returning Dooku’s irritation out of fear of alienating him like he knew he had done to Arcadia during the feast, “but that’s not all. We have the entire text of the prophecy.”

Obi-Wan and Dooku both slowly stood up in shock, not realizing the confused reactions of the others as they did so. Annikin, Arcadia and Jar all stared at them in wonder, as they had never heard of such a prophecy before. Each of them had heard ancient prophecies, but they had never seen anyone so shocked to hear one before. Considering it was two Jedi who were seemingly shocked beyond all belief, they could only imagine that the prophecy was incredibly important.

“Recite it,” Dooku commanded forcefully, “now!”

“Very well,” Sarus said as he moved over to another passage written in the Ophuchi language, brushing off the dust just as he had done to the previous one. “It says that in the time of greatest despair, there shall come a savior and he shall be known as the Son of the Suns. He will be born of purity as the son of the chosen people. Some will wish him dead. Others will try to exploit him. In the end, he shall bring balance, and then he shall bring harmony. He shall bring emotion, and then he shall bring compassion. He shall bring chaos to order, and then he shall bring justice. For a time, the Bogan shall reign. Yet the followers cannot be dismayed at the future the chosen one creates, for hope shall yet be born anew. The brightest of all lights will continue to shine and come the awaited Day of Judgment, the Ophuchi will announce the return.”

Even though he could tell most of the others were intrigued upon hearing the full prophecy, Annikin’s heart nearly stopped upon hearing it. It was as if the weight of the entire universe had just fallen upon his young shoulders, as he believed that he had figured out why he had been brought out to the desert. If he was right, which he hoped to whatever higher power existed that he was not, then Sarus and the Ophuchi believed him to be the one spoken of in the prophecy. Why they would believe that was beyond him, as he was nothing more than a simple farm boy with no special connection to any great power. His only real skill was fixing machinery, and even then it was a learned ability. He just had to be sure that Sarus believed it was really him.

Despite her irritation with Sarus, Arcadia was very taken with the story. It was certainly one of the more intriguing ones she had learned in her lifetime, and she was surprised that she was actually able to understand some of it. She knew that Ashla and Bogan were ancient terms for the light and dark sides of the Force, as that was taught during her schooling. The rest, however, seemed to be open to interpretation and it would take some time for her to come to her own conclusion. Even so, it was hard for her to bring herself to question the interpretation, as her instincts would have normally told her to do. She knew that one interpretation of something did not mean it was fact, though she would have to learn more about it before she was even able to put together any real thoughts about it. As she turned and looked to the others, she could tell that they were intrigued, though they were in the same position as she was in not being able to come to any sort of proper conclusion as of yet. Even so, Dooku did not seem pleased to hear the prophecy, for reasons she did not know of. Then again, she knew very little of the Jedi Order, so his evident irritation could have meant something important that she knew nothing about.

Despite what Arcadia believed, however, Dooku was well on his way to collecting his thoughts. At first, what Sarus had to say intrigued him and he believed that he might have misjudged him, something he normally would never have admitted, but he could barely sit still at the idea that members of the Brotherhood of Darkness actually survived past the encounter with the Jedi ten years after the Seventh Battle of Ruusan. Too many had sacrificed their lives to destroy the Sith to have some hermit tell him otherwise. It was an injustice in his mind, and he would not allow it. Every instinct he had told him that he had to question everything and simply not believe a word.

Before Dooku could protest what he had heard, Sarus stepped down from the ledge he stood on and walked to another wall a few meters away from the text of the prophecy. The group did not stand up to follow him, but they did watch where he was going to see what he had to say next. He finally stopped at a nearby wall that had an intricate painting of a group of animals in a large fight. What that meant was unknown to them, though they could only assume that Sarus was going to explain it in great detail so they would understand it.

“This painting reflects the beliefs of our people regarding the Chosen One,” Sarus told them. “It’s mostly symbolic, but symbolism can represent fact. It represents an enslaved cove that will rise up and vanquish a serpent that will slowly try to corrupt and destroy him to catch him as his prey. When the serpent is destroyed, the desert rain will fall once more.”

“You’re saying that the drought is connected to this prophecy?” Annikin asked, failing to understand how an ancient myth that he hoped was false could have anything to do with a lack of moisture on the planet.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Sarus replied. “The rain stopped falling the day the Chosen One was born and will not fall again until he fulfills his destiny, but he won’t fulfill it alone. There will be a group of falcons that help guide him along the path to his destiny. The only one we know of is called the Argus, and the Argus will help free the dove, which we call the Optivum Servator, from his shackles before vanquishing the serpent.”

Nothing made sense anymore. Assuming Sarus was even correct in what the prophecy was saying, it was hard for Annikin to believe that his very life was the cause of a drought that had affected so many people on Tatooine, and even ended the lives of others, including his own step-brothers mother. Annikin had always wanted to believe that his life would be whatever he made of it, but if his birth was connected to the drought than there really was some sort of pre-destined outcome for his life. That was not something he wanted.

“What does Optivum Servator mean?” Annikin asked, his tone reflecting that he was still greatly overwhelmed by everything that was being said.

“It means Chosen One in the language of our ancient peoples,” Sarus replied, looking directly at Annikin as he said it, “and we know that the Argus will fall from the sky and free the Chosen One from his shackles.”

Annikin’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he heard what the Argus would do. He looked to Obi-Wan and Dooku, who were still trying to make sense of everything, realizing that one of them was most likely the Argus as their ship had fallen from the sky. This was all assuming that he was, in fact, the Chosen One, and he had to find out. He would not let his finding out be interrupted again.

“Do you know who the Chosen One is?” Annikin asked hesitantly, knowing that there was a good chance he would not like the answer he was given.

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Sarus said with a reassuring nod, “but don’t worry, Chosen One. You will not be alone in your journey.”

As Annikin’s head sunk in disappointment, Dooku was nearly ready to throw a fit. The Sith had been destroyed a thousand years earlier, so he knew for a fact that the prophecy was a myth, because there were no Sith left to destroy. Adding insult to injury, he could not possibly fathom the idea of Annikin being the Chosen One. It almost seemed to make a mockery of the ancient Jedi prophets. He could sense nothing special about Annikin, and it was clear to him that Annikin wanted nothing of it. How any savior could be such a weak person was beyond him.

Annikin had a thousand questions swirling around in his overwhelmed mind, but he did not even know which one to ask first. Being honest with himself, he knew that he had no real desire to ask any of them, as he knew that he would not like the answers he would be given. Instead of asking them, he simply turned away from Sarus and the others and walked slowly to the entrance to another catacomb, not knowing and not particularly caring where it would take him. He simply wanted to be alone with his thoughts and to forget that he had ever agreed to go with Sarus to the caves.

Arcadia and Jar both felt horrible for Annikin. They both knew what it was like to shoulder a heavy burden and wanted to comfort him, but as they started to stand up Sarus waved them back down to their seats. He knew that they would not be able to say what needed to be said to convince the Chosen One to accept his destiny, but he had an idea as to what was necessary for Annikin to hear. As Arcadia and Jar sat back down, Sarus followed Annikin into the catacomb with a fairly good idea as to where they would both end up.

A few minutes later, after walking up a fairly steep climb that was in the catacombs, Sarus stepped out into the light on the edge of a small cliff overlooking the Dune Sea. The suns were already rising up on the horizon and Annikin sat somberly at the edge of the cliff watching them rise. Sarus could understand why he was unable to immediately accept his destiny, as he too had been given a fairly heavy burden at a young age. His father, however, was able to help him accept his destiny and Sarus believed that he would be able to as well. As he sat down beside Annikin, he assumed he would have the first word, but Annikin turned to him first.

“You said this savior would be born to purity as the son of the chosen people,” Annikin recalled. “What did that mean?”

“Well,” Sarus said, realizing that this would be one of the most difficult parts of the story for Annikin to accept, “in our interpretation it means that the Chosen One’s mother was a virgin and the savior was conceived by the Force as the son of our prophet.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Annikin told him somewhat forcefully. “I had a father, but he died when I was just a baby.”

“It’s not my place to say whether or not that’s true,” Sarus told him carefully, hoping to avoid calling Annikin’s mother a liar and angering the young man, “but I would suggest asking your mother to tell you about the day you were born when you get home. I think you’ll find that the answer she gives you is different than what you expected to hear.”

Annikin almost became angered as he felt that Sarus was saying that his mother was dishonest with him, which he had never known her to be. Instead, however, that near-anger became sheer curiosity. From what he had seen of Sarus, he seemed like an honest man and the type of person who would not challenge him to ask for a certain truth if it was not, in fact, the truth. Even if his mother did prove what Sarus was saying was true, Annikin still would not be able to understand anything about his supposed destiny.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Annikin said emotionlessly, not knowing whether he should convey fear or anger or any other emotion for that matter. “This is all too big for Annikin Skywalker.”

Sarus put his hand on Annikin’s shoulder to comfort him with a reassuring smile. As he did, he could recall when the great burden had been given to him as well. It was not something he wanted, nor was it something he wanted to accept, but under the guidance of his father he was able to do so. Had it not been for his father, he would not have been able to do so. The least he could do for Annikin was given him some sort of fatherly advice, despite not being his father.

“You see that small outcropping over there,” Sarus asked as he pointed out into the desert, “just before the old ruins at the dunes of Arrakeen?”

“Yeah,” Annikin said, though he could just barely make it out because of the distance between him and them.

“There’s another cave there with even more prophecies,” Sarus said, which caused Annikin to become noticeably worried, “but don’t worry. They have nothing to do with you. When I was about your age, I went there with my father. The Ophuchi there told me that I was carrying a spirit inside of me that had lived for a hundred millennia and would live for many more millennia to come. I didn’t believe it, and I still don’t know if I do, but I’ve learned to accept it if it’s true.”

“What are you trying to say?” Annikin asked, unsure as to where Sarus was headed with his story, despite being taken aback by the idea that Sarus had an ancient spirit inside of him.

“I’m trying to say that you don’t have to believe that you’re a savior,” Sarus told him reassuringly. “You just have to accept that you might have a destiny greater than you realize. As long as you can accept that it might be true, then when the time comes you’ll make the right choice.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Annikin said, becoming irritated at Sarus for the first time. “I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want it to be real.”

“But it is real, son,” Sarus continued, still trying his best to console Annikin, “and there’s nothing we can do to change that. The tides of fate are impossible to stop when destiny takes its course.”

Annikin could understand what Sarus was telling him, though it did not bring much comfort to him. He stood up from the ledge he was sitting on and turned around, despite the fact that he was missing the sunrise. He tried to collect his thoughts, but they were still a mess of questions, fears and regrets. Sarus may have been able to convey a good truth about acceptance, but it did not make him feel any better. He simply did not want to be the savior of anything. He just wanted to be himself, and at the moment he just wanted to be alone.

Sarus understood that. He too had wanted to be alone when he was first told about his own destiny, feeling that he needed to shut out everything and everyone just to make it so it would not be real. Whether or not it was had not been decided, but he would give Annikin his privacy. The Ophuchi leader stood up from the ledge and started to walk away, but he was drawn back by his own feelings. He turned back to the boy and put his hand on his shoulder once again, still trying to console and reassure him as much as he could.

“It will be alright, Annikin,” Sarus said. “I promise.”

When Annikin said nothing, Sarus nodded in understanding and made his way back to the catacomb that they had arrived from. He immediately felt the steepness of the short descent back down, though he had traversed the route enough times to know that he would not fall the rest of the way. He held on tightly to the wall, and within minutes he could finally hear the voices coming from the cave sanctuary. Whether or not he actually wanted to hear them was another story, as he could tell that the elder Jedi Master was clearly irritated by something.

When he stepped back out from the catacomb, Sarus saw that he was right. Dooku was fiercely pointing his finger at Obi-Wan as if he was scolding him, clearly angered. Sarus had only heard small bits as he made his way down the catacomb, but from what he could hear Dooku was unable to accept the fact that the Sith could still possibly exist, as Sarus and the Jedi both knew that if the prophecies were true then the serpent in the painting was a Sith Lord, just as Jedi lore said it would be.

“Alsius Hoth and Valenthyne Farfalla sacrificed their lives to ensure that the Sith were destroyed,” Dooku shouted at his former apprentice. “How dare you doubt them now!”

“There’s no concrete evidence that the man the Jedi killed was the Sith Lord,” Obi-Wan rebutted. “Farfalla’s men and the Jedi Council only acted on an assumption. For all we know, the Sith could have survived these past thousand years.”

“That’s preposterous,” Dooku replied with great irritation. “The Sith could not have survived this long without us knowing about it.”

“The Sith are not extinct, Master Jedi,” Sarus said as if he was reflecting on something that had happened to him in the past. “For that, you have my word.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Dooku asked, laughing as the words came out of his mouth. “You’re a hermit who lives in a desert. It’s more than likely that all of this nonsense comes from your people being out in the sun for too long.”

Sarus wanted to shake his head in annoyance, but he knew that would be comparable to shaking his head at an infant who was unable to swim. Dooku had grown up in a rigid order that brought its people up to believe certain things and to hold certain truths to be self-evident. Obi-Wan was clearly more open to changing his beliefs if he found a new truth, but it was always possible that Dooku had grown up in a generation that did not embrace change like Obi-Wan’s.

“I know it because if they are extinct,” Sarus replied, “then the man my people and I fought eighteen years ago on this very world was nothing more than a figment of our imaginations, and we’re all going insane.”

“I wouldn’t put that past you,” Dooku said, arrogantly shaking his head as if there was something wrong with Sarus for holding a different belief, or in that case a different truth, than his own.

Even though Dooku was not open to hearing what Sarus had to say about the Sith, Obi-Wan was greatly intrigued by the idea of a Lord of the Sith fighting with the Ophuchi on Tatooine. He had always imagine what it would be like to fight a Sith Lord, and as a child he always imagined himself in the great battles of the Jedi Civil War or the Great Territorial War, charging against an army of Sith Lords and Sith soldiers. As he grew older, of course, such ideas of glory and honor in battle diminished and he could only hope that he would never have to face a Sith Lord.

Obi-Wan turned away from Sarus as Dooku began to walk towards another set of writings. It was strange for him to see his former master acting so oddly. One minute he was berating Sarus for telling them about what the cave walls said, and the next minute his archaeological interests took over. No matter how long he lived, he would never understand Jard Dooku. When his former master was no longer watching, Obi-Wan turned around as he continued to walk and shrugged and apologetic shrug, hoping Sarus took none of what Dooku said personally.

Sarus subtly laughed as Obi-Wan shrugged, but his expressions went blank when he saw Arcadia alone by the fire that had been started when he was gone. He knew very little of what was happening on her world, and though he was not going to ask about the specifics unless she wanted to tell him, he knew he had upset her earlier when talking about Nute Gunray. He essentially came right out and called her naïve and said that she understood little about the Trade Federation, though that was an arrogant presumption on his part, considering her position on her world.

As she stared into the flames in front of her, all she could think about was Nute Gunray sitting in her throne room, directing his will across the planet that she had dedicated her life to. She half regretted leaving her people, as they needed her strength more than ever, but she was unable to fully regret it. She had to pressure the Galactic Senate into taking action against the Trade Federation by whatever means possible, but with each passing minute she spent on Tatooine she knew that more and more people were made to suffer on her world.

“Are you alright?” Sarus asked her, causing her to look up abruptly as he sat down beside her. “You look lost in thought.”

“I’m alright,” Arcadia replied awkwardly, as she was still somewhat offended over the way he had treated her earlier.

“Look,” Sarus said, sensing that she was still offended, while at the same time looking over her shoulder to see Obi-Wan and Dooku continuing their argument and Jar studying another set of paintings, “I can be a little testy sometimes when it comes to my people. The Trade Federation has just done so much damage to this world that my patience wears thin when I talk about them.”

“I don’t blame you,” Arcadia said truthfully, realizing that she had not looked at his small outburst from his position. “I was angry too. Every time I think about what’s happening on my home, I see myself wrapping my hands around that Neimoidian’s fat neck and...”

“I know the feeling,” Sarus said as Arcadia slowly ended her comment, not wanting to go any further into what she wanted to do. “I’ve had a few dealings with Nute Gunray myself that I’d rather forget. I said some things that I probably shouldn’t have that got me into some trouble, but I always managed to escape him relatively unscathed, despite what he might have wanted.”

“Any advice you might be able to give me, then?” Arcadia asked, optimistic about what he had to tell her.

“Gunray has one grave weakness,” Sarus told her, “one which I was able to exploit. He’s easily deceived because he’s an ignorant fool. If you can figure out a way to exploit that, then the odds are in your favor.”

Arcadia smiled as Sarus stood back up, taking comfort in his suggestion. She had known the Neimoidians to be bold and cowardly, though she had not heard about how easily deceived one might be. Luckily, because she was no longer on Utapau, she had the advantage of time to plan something effective to deceive the Federation Viceroy. Perhaps leaving was not a bad idea after all.

As Sarus left Arcadia to leave her to her newfound comforting thoughts, he made his way to the paintings that Jar was studying. The Gungan had found an ironic one, though Sarus knew it could simply be a coincidence considering he knew nothing about him and would not question him as to his background. Regardless, the paintings would prove to be interesting, if not overwhelming, for the Gungan very quickly, as Sarus knew that Jar would question him as to what it meant, considering how long he had stared at the wall while he was talking to Arcadia.

“What does all of this mean?” Jar asked him expectedly.

“It’s the prophecy of the Rana Hama,” Sarus told him, “but we know very little about it. From what we can tell, the figure in the painting is an exiled monarch and the one behind him was the traitor who sent him away. If you look closely, though, you’ll see a knife in the main figure’s hand. We believe that this man, the Rana Hama, will seek revenge on those who turned their backs on him and take his rightful place at the throne of his people.”

Sarus wiped the dust off of the wall to help them both have a closer look at the paintings. While it was all strictly interpretive, he did believe that the interpretations were right. The crown on the head of the Rana Hama was cracked down the middle, symbolizing the exile and the betrayal. The figure behind him held another crown in his hands, which was what led them to believe that he was the traitor. Whether or not the knife represented revenge and retaking the rightful place at the head of the people was the most interpretive part of the entire painting, but Sarus knew that it held merit as his people had spent centuries trying to come up with another answer, albeit to no avail.

“What does ‘Rana Hama’ mean?” Jar asked him.

“It’s an Ophuchi term, of course,” Sarus replied, awaiting the reaction that would appear on the Gungan’s face. “Roughly translated, it means ‘Frog Man’.”

Jar’s curiosity slowly faded away as he came to the realization that Sarus was hinting at him being the Rana Hama. The story in the painting did mean anything to him at first, but when Jar heard the term ‘Frog Man’ it all seemed to come together. Both he and the Rana Hama were betrayed by their own people and were exiled from their rightful hereditary positions of royalty, and Jar had thought about revenge on Rugor Nass many times throughout his exile. It was entirely possible that the entire thing was simply a coincidence, as people were betrayed every day and there were dozens of stories about betrayed monarchs, though he knew that it would be something to keep in mind if and when he ever returned to Otoh Gunga.

As Jar turned back to the painting, Sarus decided to leave each of the outsiders to their own thoughts. Annikin was still at the upper reaches of the catacombs overlooking the desert, trying to make sense of the possibility that he was a galactic savior, while Jar was also overwhelmed by the possibility of being spoken of in an ancient cave prophecy. Arcadia could only think of her people, and in the further corner’s of the sanctuary Obi-Wan and Dooku continued to debate over the possible existence of the Dark Lords of the Sith.

Seeing Obi-Wan and Dooku debate the Sith brought back his own memories of dealing with the Sith Lord eighteen years ago. It was under the cover of darkness and it was during the last rain storm the planet had seen before the drought. The Sith Lord was pursuing a young woman and a man she lived with, attempting to kill them for his own purposes. The dark warrior had ignited a duel-bladed red lightsaber, forcing Sarus and his men to defend themselves with their rare cortosis-woven swords, lest they be slaughtered.

All of the men but Sarus were killed, though he barely made it out alive. The Lord of the Sith was prepared to strike him down, but the dark one seemingly received a thought through the Force and disengaged his blade. As the Dark Lord of the Sith turned to leave, Sarus was able to briefly catch a glimpse of his face, and he was never able to forget the satanic sight he saw. Whether or not that Sith Lord still existed was a mystery to him, though he knew that if the dark one was alive, then whoever came into contact with him was in grave danger.

Deep in the deserts of the planet, a prototype infiltrator stealth ship landed high atop a ridge that overlooked Mos Eisley, Mos Espa and Anchorhead, all of which were dozens of kilometers away from the ridge. The particular vessel that had landed was the Scimitar, the first of its class. It was designed as a long, nearly triangular vessel with a pair of folding wings around the round cockpit, mimicking the design used by the crafts used during by the Brotherhood of Darkness during the New Sith Wars a millennia earlier. From beneath the cockpit came nearly a dozen probe droids, which immediately made their way out into the deserts towards the settlement with one specific target in mind, assuming they could locate it.

At the back of the craft, a small hatch opened and revealed the ominous presence of Lord Maul. He had been on Tatooine only once before on a mission for his master, a mission that became far more complicated than he had ever anticipated. Still, the challenge of it proved to be an educational experience for him, especially considering his relatively young age at the time. His previous master had been unable to give him any sort of experience like what his new master had given him, so he was thankful that he was nearly killed while on Tatooine, which truly enhanced his combat techniques. Whether or not his master anticipated the end result of the mission was open for debate, but Maul was grateful all the same.

As the probe droids made their way out into the nighttime desert, Maul activated his micro-binoculars to watch as they headed towards the three major settlements. Odds are, their target would be there and he would be able to confirm valuable information for his master. Either way, he would be sure that Queen Arcadia was unable to escape him again, as he refused to even know what failure was. He had failed very many times in his life, and he would not fail to capture one weak Human female.

The treaty would be signed.

Chapter 13: Bargain
Inside the catacomb a few meters from the ledge, Annikin’s eyes slowly opened as he awoke from a deep sleep. He could not remember falling asleep, but given the long journey he had been on there was very little surprise in his slumber. What did surprise him was how long he slept, because as he awoke he was not expecting to look up to the top of the catacomb and see the nighttime sky overhead. If he was asleep for over twelve hours, then it was likely that the others were as well, so that allowed the idea of holding everyone up to leave his head.

As he stood up, he rubbed his eyes of the remnants of fatigue that always presented themselves after one woke up and nearly lost his balance while doing so, but he forcefully grabbed the wall to keep from falling down the entire catacomb. The last thing he needed, before walking for hours back through the Dune Sea, was to break his legs or, worse, his neck, so when he started the descent back down he was careful to keep an iron grip on the stone-cold walls.

After a few minutes of descent, he finally made it back into the cave. He hoped to talk with Sarus before they left once again, as he wanted to say that he had spent a fair amount of time thinking about what he said and how he was able to come to terms with the possibility. Before he could talk to anyone, however, he turned around to face the catacomb for one last look and tripped as he started to turn back around. As he tripped, he twisted around as he fell and landed face first on a soft object. Annikin pushed himself up with his arms, but quickly lunged backwards as he saw what he had landed on: the lifeless body of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Annikin's heart stopped and his face contorted with shock upon meeting the lifeless gaze of the Jedi Knight's glazed eyes. Horrified, Annikin fearfully looked around the room hoping to find some indication of how Obi-Wan died, but to his shock all he saw were the dead bodies of the other offworlders, aside from Arcadia. Even so, it did not take him long to find her. As he stood back up, he heard a blood-curling scream and saw a bright red glow of a lightsaber in the entrance to the other catacombs just before the dying Arcadia was thrown face first, back into the cave. Annikin ran over to her to check her pulse, which he realized was almost non-existent. As she laid dying, Annikin turned her over and wanted to scream as he saw the gaping and bloodied hole in her torso and the life leaving her eyes, though he remained calm for the sake of her own peacefulness. It was a shame that the peacefulness could not be given to him as well, as it seemed that the invader that stabbed her had disappeared.

“Sabé,” Annikin said softly, shaking her gently by the shoulders. “Sabé, can you hear me? It’s Annikin.”

“He’s here”, Arcadia said, dazed and confused as her eyes darted around the cave like blaster bolts ricocheting off the wall. “We tried for so long to run....tried so hard...too strong....”

The queen began to cough, and she did blood began to spit out of her mouth. Some landed on Annikin, though he could not have cared less. All he cared about was being with his newfound friend as she died, even though he had only known her for a very short time. Annikin tried to start talking after she stopped coughing up blood, but her eyes began to flutter and her skin started to become deathly pale. Annikin pulled her in close to try to warm up her near-freezing body, though as he looked into her eyes he knew that the life had finally left her.

Annikin wanted to scream out. He wanted desperately to tear down every painting in the Force-forsaken cave. He had finally accepted the fact that it was possible he was the Chosen One, but the fact that he could not even save one person, a friend, derailed that entire line of thought. Not wanting to dwell on the prophecy, Annikin gently set Arcadia onto the ground and slid his palm over her eyes to cover them. He sat still for a moment, only moving his head to look around the room.

It was amazing to him how quickly everything could change, including perceptions. He knew the conflict that they had escaped was bad, though he had no idea it was bad enough to murder over. The fact that he was able to lose his new friends somewhere along in the bitterness of the conflict, especially since the conflict was so far away, combined with the fact that he was not there to help them was numbingly painful and he could hardly bear to look at them, though he did so anyway out of respect for what they had done for him.

“Some Chosen One I turned out to be,” Annikin muttered as a tear began to roll down his cheek, making it halfway down his face before his finger stopped it and wiped it away. If only he could simply wipe away the pain of the loss.

Annikin looked from person to person, realizing that even though he had known them for a short time they had a profound impact on his life. He knew Sabé Arcadia to be a compassionate and faithful ruler, which presented a welcome distraction for him considering the crime lords that ruled Tatooine while only caring about themselves. Annikin was able to see a great deal of honor in Jar Binks, and he was also able to see another monarch, albeit an exiled one, who cared a great deal about people. The strength the Gungan showed him was immeasurable, as Annikin truly did not believe that a creature of the water would be able to make it through the entire walk through the Dune Sea without a single complaint or even succumbing to the harsh terrain. Sarus, of course, showed him a possible path for his life and told him that it was perfectly acceptable to not believe something entirely, so long as he accepted the fact that it could happen. Annikin even had sympathy for Jard Dooku, despite the rude attitude he had shown Annikin. Dooku was even able to have an impact on Annikin as well, showing him that fairy tales sometimes were not all that they were worked up to be. Out of everyone in the group, though, it was Obi-Wan Kenobi that had the biggest impact. Obi-Wan had shown him true friendship and was open with him about the Jedi and his beliefs, all while seemingly believing that Annikin was capable of so much more than a farmer’s life.

As the tears began to flow more fully down his cheeks, Annikin stood up, as he knew that he had to leave immediately. If he was able to make it to the Ophuchi, assuming they were all still alive, then he would be safe. He looked at his friends one last time before turning towards the catacomb they had used to originally enter the cave. When he tried to walk through, he found that the darkness he had assumed was the lack of light in the catacomb was actually a black spot on the wall where the entrance should have been. He turned sharply and ran towards the catacomb to the ledge above, but even that was sealed. Someone, or something, had trapped him in the cave and he had no idea how he would be able to get out.

Before he could even figure out what he was going to do, he felt a strangely cold sensation running up his spine that he could only describe as the feeling of death. He tried to turn around to see what it was, but out of nowhere a titanic gust of wind knocked him clear across the room, slamming his head up against the wall. He slowly and painfully tried to touch it, but as he did it stung too much to keep doing so, though he could feel that there was blood on his hands. As he tried to stand up, another harsh breeze pinned him against the cave wall behind him and blew the fires of the torches that kept the cave lit out, immersing him and the sanctuary in darkness.

And then he heard it. It was the sound of metallic breathing, a sound so awful that it could strike fear into the hearts of the boldest soldiers as if it was a knife being plunged into their hearts. The breaths were finally given a person to go with when a crimson lightsaber, the color of blood itself, was ignited and revealed the dark, armor-clad figure of the invader. He was a shell of a man who might have once been, and his armor was a circuit board of lights and electricity, whatever its purpose was. The invader had to be at least two meters tall, if not more, and he wore flowing black robes that trailed behind him as he walked towards Annikin. Most disturbing of all was that he had a face forever masked by a bizarre metal breath screen covered by a large black helmet.

The invader was an awesome, threatening shape as he strode towards Annikin, his lightsaber firmly held in both of his hands. For what seemed to be an eternity, no sound could be heard except the loud wheezes coming from the ebony figure’s metal breath screen. Annikin wanted desperately to back away, but he had no where to go as the invader moved closer. Yet, when Annikin believed that the invader was going to kill him, the figure stopped and lowered his lightsaber, despite keeping it active. Even so, Annikin still felt complete, abject terror as the invader’s lifeless mask simply stared at him, causing the icy chill to make its way up his spine again. Annikin could only imagine the person behind the mask smiling a twisted satanic smile, though he would have no way of knowing.

“You cannot escape me,” the invader said with a deep, booming voice that was created from an artificial voice box in his armor. “Everything you care for and everything you cherish will be mine.”

The invader brought his lightsaber up above his head to deliver a striking blow, and even then Annikin could feel the life being drained out of him. It was as if the invader was not just an assailant, but a dark demon attempting to suck the life straight out of him and weaken him to his very core. Annikin tried to crawl away as he felt the icy cold presence of the phantom menace invading his pure soul, and as the invader brought his crimson blade down towards him Annikin cried out with a scream that seemed to be swallowed up in the sheer darkness of his impending doom.

Closing his eyes to prepare for the killing blow, Annikin felt nothing for a few moments. He clenched his teeth and his fists as he waited for the kill, but instead of the stinging of a lightsaber, he felt a warm hand shaking him and calling his name. He opened his eyes, and as he did he saw the friendly and welcoming faces of Obi-Wan and Arcadia trying to wake him. He tried to sit up, but he felt a sharp pain in his neck and as he touched his hand to it he could feel the blood on his fingertips, though he had no idea what had happened. Quite frankly, he could not have cared less considering the people he thought were dead were right in front of him.

“Where is he?” Annikin asked, looking around nervously as he suddenly remembered the invader that was trying to kill him.

“Where’s who?” Obi-Wan asked as he and the others looked around the cave that was still lit by candles and still had two entrances.

Annikin looked around in disbelief that they could not remember being attacked, but it was then he realized that they had never been attacked at all. Whatever caused him to be in the caves again, he knew that the invader had just been a dream, as had everyone’s death. Even so, it was the worst nightmare he had ever had and it felt so real. Whatever it meant was beyond him, but he did not care to find out. Hopefully he would just be able to shake it off, as he did not want to think about what he had seen at all. It was all simply too horrifying for him.

“I guess I had a bad dream,” Annikin said as he rubbed his neck. “What happened?”

“You fell down the entire catacomb,” Sarus said as he placed a cold compress onto Annikin’s still-hurting neck. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.”

Pressing the compress down onto his neck, placing pressure on it to stop the bleeding, Annikin could recall nearly losing his balance as he started to make his way down the catacombs from the place where he had fallen asleep. The only thing he could surmise was that he had fallen without realizing it and was knocked out by the fall. It was very likely that the trauma of that and the revelation of the prophecies caused the nightmare, so when he realized that, he felt that he had nothing to worry about. For the first time since before the pilgrimage began, he finally felt a sense of ease because of it.

“We were getting ready to go back,” Sarus told him, “but if you need - ”

“No,” Annikin said quickly and forcefully before realizing he had seemed too eager to leave, all while starting to stand up. “No, it’s alright. It’s just a bit of a neck ache.”

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked with concern as he helped Annikin up from the cold dirt ground.

“Yeah,” Annikin said for what he hoped was the last time. “I’m ready when everyone is. Just say the word.”

Annikin looked to the others, all of whom nodded to tell him that they were ready to leave as well. Jar and Sarus walked off to get their coat and cloak, respectively, while the two Jedi also walked off to retrieve their cloaks as well. Annikin watched as the Jedi walked to the other side of the cave, noting the amused look on Dooku’s face. He had no idea what the Jedi Master was amused about, though he hoped that, for once, it was not about him or anyone else in the group.

“A fall down the catacombs,” Dooku said to Obi-Wan as they put their cloaks on. “Well, if he’s the Chosen One, then he’s off to a great start.”

Obi-Wan said nothing in response, as he had no interest in getting into another debate over the prophecy with his former Jedi Master. He had done that enough over the past few hours and had tired of it, so he hoped that the long walk back through the nighttime desert would give them a chance to keep to themselves rather than continuing a discussion that would not be resolved for some time, especially by Obi-Wan and Dooku considering their frequent disagreements.

When the others were ready, Obi-Wan and Dooku stepped off of a ledge to join them near the entrance to the catacomb. Sarus nodded to signal that he was ready to lead, so when he started to walk through the catacomb they had originally entered the cave through, the others followed behind him. Obi-Wan stepped up behind Annikin as they walked through the entryway and put his hand on his shoulder, smiling as the young man turned around to see who had done so. Obi-Wan could tell that Annikin needed a friend because of everything that had happened over the course of the last few hours, so he promised to do his best to be that friend for him.

The journey back to the homestead took a few hours longer than the trek out to the Dune Sea, though everyone expected that considering they were still fatigued from the first hike. They were better prepared, though, considering they were able to fill up a dozen canteens at the Ophuchi compound before leaving. Most of the people were sad to see them leave as they all seemed to believe that Annikin was the Chosen One as well, though everyone was eager to leave to get back to the business that they all needed to attend to.

Obi-Wan, unfortunately, did not have his wish granted, at least in the beginning of the trek. Dooku began to debate him once again over the validity and interpretations of the cave prophecies, though Obi-Wan did his best to not respond. Even so, there were times when Dooku could become annoyingly accusatory, so he was forced to argue back on a few occasions. After an hour or so, though, Dooku kept to himself and Obi-Wan was given the peace and quiet he needed in order to figure out what he would tell the Jedi Council about what he had learned, and how he could convince the Lars family to allow Annikin to travel to Coruscant with him. The latter of the two would be the hardest and that much was certain. Still, Obi-Wan knew that, deep down, Annikin’s mother only wanted what was best for son and would consent to allowing him to embark on a better life, the life of a Jedi, assuming the Jedi Council would allow it.

Despite having convinced himself that accepting the possibility of being the Chosen One was the right thing to do, Annikin had yet to tell Sarus. Part of him still hoped that if he stopped talking and thinking about it then it would go away, so he kept to himself and tried to block out all thoughts about it. What he found was that it was impossible to do, considering the magnitude of the revelations. He would simply have to learn to accept that the thoughts would be a major part of his life, because he was fairly certain that he would never be able to move past such a huge burden.

As the group kept to their thoughts, the trip to the homestead seemed to go by much shorter, and luckily for them the night’s environment was much cooler than it had been when they trekked out. A cool breeze made its way throughout the region, allowing a certain sense of comfort and peacefulness for all who passed through it. Even Jar had a much easier time than before, though he was still forced to drink a great deal of the water, considering the dryness of the atmosphere. Still, he felt much more energetic than he had before, so he was able to keep up much easier.

When they finally arrived back at the homestead over seven hours after leaving the compound, it was nearly dawn. In the last half of a standard hour, they were able to extinguish the candles and torches that they carried, as the rising suns were providing enough light to the point where the additional lights were unnecessary. Surprisingly enough, though, the Lars’ all stepped out of the main hut as the group approached. When they were close enough, Shmi ran out and embraced Annikin, hugging tightly when she was able to see for herself that her son was safe.

“Oh Annikin,” Shmi said as she embraced him, “we were so worried about you.”

“I’m fine, mom,” Annikin said, grabbing his still-sore neck as she held him tighter than he would have preferred, prompting Shmi to immediately become concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Shmi asked, the concern in her voice obvious. “Are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Mom, really, I’m fine,” Annikin said with a near chuckle, realizing that she was bordering on paranoia. “I just fell down. I promise.”

“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Cliegg asked from behind Shmi, clearly pleased that his step-son was safe.

“I guess you could say that,” Annikin said, half-lying considering the fact that he came back with a thousand more questions than he had when he had left. “How did you even know we were looking for answers to something?”

“Captain Panaka told us,” Owen said from behind Cliegg while leaning up against the side of the house, clearly displeased that his step-brother had decided to run off without so much as even telling them. “If he hadn’t, mom would have been sitting here scared to death about you.”

Shmi waved Owen’s concerns off, not wanting him to get into yet another argument with Annikin. It was true that she would have been very concerned, but Annikin was an adult and he was allowed to go where he pleased. Nothing she said would change that, nor would she try to change that. She had always tried to instill a sense of responsibility in him so it would have been appropriate for him to tell her, though she had also made him a strong individual and taught him to take opportunity by the head and not let it go until he was able to get what he wanted.

There were so many additional questions that Shmi had about her son’s journey, though the first one was who brought them out to the desert. She was about to ask him, though she was shocked to find the answer when Arcadia stepped to the side, thus revealing the presence of Sarus behind the rest of the outsiders. Shmi’s heart nearly skipped a beat when she saw him, even more so as he began to approach her. His was a face that she never expected nor wanted to see again, and when she did see him she knew exactly what Annikin had gone out into the desert for. Sarus believed it was time. Based on Annikin’s reserved demeanor, she could only assume that Sarus told him at least part of what the Ophuchi believed was the truth.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Shmi,” Sarus said, prompting everyone, including the Lars’, to all look at Shmi as if they had just seen a ghost.

Before anyone could ask her any questions, Shmi slowly turned around and started to walk away. She considered stopping, but when she reached the steps she went around her stepson and made her way into the house. She had hoped that such a day would never come, but it was clear she was wrong. All she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts on the past.

Outside, no one said a word to anyone for a few moments, but Annikin knew that whatever was troubling his mother had something to do with him. Sarus tried to walk after him, but Obi-Wan put out his hand to stop him, knowing that it was a private matter between mother and son. Annikin quickly ran down the main steps and sprinted towards his mother’s bedroom, which he knew was the place where she always went when she wanted to be alone.

When he opened the door, he found Shmi standing somberly in front of a small box looking through trinkets she had collected throughout the years. She held one in particular that Annikin had never seen before rather tightly, though the fact that he had not seen it was no surprise to him, considering he did not make a habit out of looking through his mother’s personal effects. She surprised him, though, when she turned around and gently placed the object in his hands, putting it down softly with reverence as if it held a great significance.

“I should have given you this a long time ago,” Shmi said sadly.

Annikin looked down at the object and did not immediately regard it as anything impressive. It was made out of a simple piece of Japor ivory wood, though the element was increasingly rare considering wood was not a large commodity on a desert world. It was carved with a traditional Tatooine sand symbol that Annikin thought nothing of, at least until he took a closer look. Inside the center of the symbol was the symbol of a shackled dove, much like the one on the cave wall that spoke about the Optivum Servator of Ophuchi lore.

“Mom, what is this?” Annikin asked suspiciously, though he doubted his mother was thinking clearly based on the nearly traumatized look on her face.

“He told me I had to give it to you when you were thirteen,” Shmi said as she sat down on her bed, though it was more of a mumble than anything else. “He said there would be consequences, but he was wrong. I ignored him.”

“Who mom?” Annikin asked worriedly. “Who said there would be consequences?”

“That man, that hermit, standing outside,” Shmi told him.

“Sarus?” Annikin asked with confusion. “What’s he got to do with this?”

Even before Shmi said anything, Annikin remembered what Sarus told him about his birth. Sarus had told him to ask his mother about the day he was born when he returned home and that the answer she gave him would be different than what he expected. It was strange to him how he was beginning to piece things together, as he suddenly realized that Sarus might have had something to do with his birth. He knew it was highly unlikely that Sarus was his father or even remotely related to him, though he suspected that he and Sarus were more connected than he had originally come to believe.

“Mom,” Annikin continued before she spoke, “Sarus told me to ask you about my father and about the day I was born. What did he mean by that?”

Shmi’s eyes widened upon hearing the question. Her pregnancy and Annikin’s birth were not something she liked to think about, as there were just too many unanswered questions and too many painful memories. She had found out she was pregnant when she was only twenty-two, but she did not believe it when she had heard it because she had never known a man’s touch. Still, she was pregnant, and her growing body confirmed that. For months on end, she tried to piece together what might have happened, but she finally accepted that she somehow conceived as a virgin. She made the mistake of letting that slip out, and that was the day that Sarus came into her life.

Sarus immediately believed her story and told her about the Prophecy of the Chosen One, but she dismissed it and asked him never to speak to her again. He agreed, though she knew that he kept a close eye on her, and in the end she became thankful for that. When she was nine months pregnant, she was attacked by a lightsaber-wielding assailant who was deadest on murdering her and preventing the birth of her child, though she was able to escape with Sarus to the cave sanctuary at the Ophuchi compound.

Despite their escape, the assailant was able to find them. Sarus and his men chased the warrior outside into the rain, and while they were gone Shmi went into a painful labor. She had no idea what to expect, so the intensity of it took her by surprise. Sarus arrived just in time to help her, and even though the assailant was forced to retreat, the other Ophuchi did not survive. While Sarus was badly injured, he was able to help Shmi deliver Annikin, and he even suggested the name when she said she could not think of one. She immediately fell in love with the name and decided to give it to him, and shortly thereafter Sarus brought her to the nearest medical center he could find. Before saying goodbye for eighteen years, he gave her the snippet of Japor and asked her to give it to Annikin when he was thirteen, something she never did. She had not regretted it before, though it was entirely possible that she should have to prevent something horrible from happening.

“Mom, please,” Annikin finally said, breaking her silence and recollection of the past, “who was my father?”

“There was no father,” Shmi said, lowering her head with the guilt of not telling him the truth sooner. “I carried you, I gave birth, and I raised you. I can’t explain what happened to me.”

Annikin put his hand out and leaned up against the wall, feeling as if someone had just knocked the wind right out of him. He had hoped that she would tell him a normal story of a happy couple having a child, but it was as if she had confirmed his fear of actually being the Chosen One. It was still possible that it was simply a coincidence, but he could not fool himself. There was no way that his mother could have given birth while a virgin and not have a child who was the savior. He still held out hope that it was false, but the confirmation worried him.

“So now you know the truth,” a voice said from the doorway, and Annikin’s head darted in that direction to see that it was the voice of Obi-Wan.

“You say that like you knew,” Annikin said with a small hint of an attitude as he stood up straight. “Did you lie to me?

“No, Annikin, I would never lie to you,” Obi-Wan told him truthfully as he shook his head in response. “Sarus told me while you were asleep in the caves. I know it must come as a shock to you, but I believe him and your mother are telling the truth. They have no reason to make this up.”

“I know they don’t,” Annikin said, throwing up his arms in confusing, “but what am I supposed to do? I don’t know how to be a savior.”

“You don’t have to do anything now,” Obi-Wan assured him, “but you must come with me to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for testing.”

“Testing?” Annikin asked, confused as to what Obi-Wan was alluding to. “Am I supposed to become a Jedi or something?”

“That’s not up to me to decide,” Obi-Wan told him. “The Jedi Council must first determine your sensitivity to the Force. If they agree that you’re strong with it, they may accept you for Jedi training.”

Annikin was thoroughly stunned at the news. He never thought that he would amount to anything other than a sharecropper, especially not a Jedi Knight. He had thought about it, to be sure, and had had plenty of dreams where he was a Jedi Knight who came to Tatooine and freed everyone from their Hutt demons, but he always dismissed them as childhood fantasies. He obviously could not dismiss an actual Jedi Knight as a fantasy, though.

“He won’t be able to go with you,” Shmi said regrettably, considering she wanted the best life for her son and knew that it was not on Tatooine, “not unless you can convince Jabba the Hutt to release him from our sharecropping contract.”

Obi-Wan had not considered the contract with the Hutt gangster, and even if he had he would not have assumed that Annikin was actually a part of it. Obi-Wan had made the assumption that it was only Cliegg who was under the contract and because Annikin was family he remained there with him, though it was clear he was wrong. If Annikin was open to it, however, Obi-Wan would do whatever he could to ensure that the young man was freed from the contract. Perhaps he was the Argus after all.

“If you want to come with us,” Obi-Wan said as he stepped closer and placed a hand on Annikin’s shoulder, “then I assure you I will do everything in my power to ensure that you’re given that opportunity. What do you say?”

Annikin looked to his mother who had seemingly overcome her shock, and she gave him a reassuring nod. He knew that it was his decision to make, and while he wanted desperately to have a new life he knew that it would be difficult to leave his family behind, even Owen. Annikin’s absence would affect them all greatly, though he knew that as an adult he could not base his life based only on the wishes of his family, though he knew that Cliegg and his mother would allow him to go if he truly wanted to. In the end, it was something that he truly wanted to do.

“Alright,” Annikin said, “I’ll go with you, but convincing Jabba to let a worker go won’t be easy. All he’ll see is his profits slipping.”

“I’m sure we can overcome that,” Obi-Wan said reassuringly, “and with Sarus’s help, I know that we can convince Jabba of anything.”

Annikin let out a sigh of relief at Obi-Wan’s optimism. He could only hope that the three of them would be able to convince Jabba the Hutt of letting him go, though it would be difficult to do so even if he did, considering there would be a price tag attached to it. If that was the case, then they would be in a difficult situation as Annikin and his family had little money to spare. They would simply have to make their choices carefully and use the right choice of words when dealing with the Hutt.

While Annikin stepped outside of the bedroom with Obi-Wan, he suddenly remembered that he still had to finish the repairs on the ship that he had promised. He was surprised that he had forgotten about it, though with all of the activity with Sarus and the Ophuchi he knew that there would be a good change of things like that slipping his mind for some time. Still, he had no idea how he would be able to finish the ship as quickly as he had hoped, especially while trying to leave Tatooine.

“What about the repairs?” Annikin asked. “We’re going to need to make some time for finishing them up.”

“Don’t bother,” Owen said from behind them, prompting the two to turn around to see what he had to say. “I pulled in a few favors at all the local spaceports when you were gone. The parts I got my guys to install should get you to wherever you’re going in one piece.”

Obi-Wan did not know what to say to what he perceived to be Owen’s generosity, though standing behind the Jedi Knight, Annikin knew better. Still, he would let Obi-Wan find out about Owen’s true intentions on his own, as there was no sense angering Owen further by tipping Obi-Wan off about what Owen was trying to do. Instead, he let Obi-Wan approach, wearing a warm smile of gratitude.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Owen,” Obi-Wan told him truthfully. “If there’s anything we can ever do for you - ”

“You can thank me by getting the hell off of our farm,” Owen said with an edgy attitude, prompting Obi-Wan’s facial expression to show that he was clearly taken aback with Owen’s forcefulness before Annikin’s stepbrother walked away.

Annikin could not help but laugh and shake his head as he turned around and began to walk through the white-stone hallway back towards the stairs. Obi-Wan followed him soon after, though only after recovering from the disbelief in Owen’s attitude. Regardless of the young man’s behavior and intentions, however, Obi-Wan was relieved that the situation with the ship had been resolved, allowing him the time he needed to put in the effort necessary for freeing Annikin from his contract.

Only ten minutes after leaving the homestead in one of Owen’s landspeeders, which he graciously offered to let them use if it meant getting the outsiders off of his property, Annikin pulled up to the front of one of the old Anchorhead Hunting Lodge, which had been bought by Jabba the Hutt and converted into one of his regional offices. Annikin shut down the engine and quickly stepped out of the vehicle with Obi-Wan and Sarus, though none of them really wanted to go into the office. It was a universal saying that bargaining with a Hutt was like bargaining with the suns, because it would get one nowhere and only end up burning them. For that reason, they were not optimistic about their chances of having Annikin released from the Lars’ sharecropping contract, though they all hid their doubts from each other in order to push on and hope that they would be proven wrong by some twist of fate. Obi-Wan looked around the Anchorhead settlement to get a feel for the area, as he had never been to Tatooine before, let alone the settlement. There were a few people throughout the street they stood on, though they were mostly street venders waiting for their next customer. They all eyed the Jedi Knight as he stepped out of the speeder, so he knew it was best to stay as far from them as possible. They last thing he wanted was to get caught up in some sales pitch when he had much more important business to attend to, and if there was one thing he knew about street venders it was that they would not back away until one was rather forceful with them. They approached the door slowly and cautiously, as they did not know what kinds of security Jabba had installed outside the facility. Jabba had constructed numerous security devices around all of his facilities to protect himself from the threats against him, and those devices included a semi-intelligent droid gate watcher built into the main entrances of his complexes to interrogate visitors before deciding if it would allow them entry. The droid installed at the Hunting Lodge stuck itself out of the entrance as they approached, though because they knew about the types of security Jabba employed, Annikin and Sarus were more concerned about the large green Gamorrean ogres that always acted as guards to the massive slug of a crime lord. “Tee chee tad un gootah,” the watch droid shouted in the Hutteese language it had been programmed to communicate in. “By choo ahd bin kee?” “My name is Annikin Skywalker,” Annikin said slowly in basic as he turned towards the others, “and these are my companions, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Sarus. We request an honor with your master, the great Jabba the Hutt. It’s a matter of great importance.” “Kuju gwankee?” the droid asked, seemingly confused. “Mypee gaza, oh hohoho!” The droid sealed itself back into the entryway, though neither Annikin nor Sarus could understand what it meant. Just as they began to turn away, disgruntled at the prospect of not being allowed entrance, they heard the sound of the door sliding open echoing throughout the immediate area. The three looked at one another skeptically and then back towards the open door that stood before them. Knowing that if they hesitated it was possible that whoever allowed them entry would change their mind, they immediately stepped through the entryway where they hoped someone would point them in the proper direction to speak with Jabba. Even though it looked bigger from the outside, the lodge was actually only one large room which ended up looking smaller due to the empty stage in the center and tables and chairs scattered around the building. It was a well-lit and ventilated atmosphere, with windows on two of its walls and a large ceiling fan, making it a place to go when one needed to relax after being in the suns for so long. Even though the group had not been in the heat for very long, it was a welcome refreshment from the scorching suns. Annikin noticed one of his friends had taken advantage of the cool air coming from the fan up above, so he made his way over to him hoping that he could point him in the right direction. “Hey Kitster,” Annikin said with a smile as he approached his oldest friend, his hand reached out to shake Kitster Banai’s as the young man with long, tied up hair wearing a cut-off red shirt stood up from his table. “Annikin,” Kitster said, taking Annikin’s hand and shaking it as he stood up from his seat, “it’s so good to see you. Where’ve you been?” “Just trying to make ends meet like everyone else,” Annikin told him, still happily surprised to see his old friend. “What are you doing here?” “My family’s farm’s going south,” Kitster said regrettably, “so I’ve been trying to hunt to bring in some extra money.” “How’s that working out for you?” Annikin asked curiously. “Not good,” Kitster told him. “There’s no more value in the small game since everyone’s bringing it in. I’ve been trying for the big one: the Krayt dragon.” Annikin was impressed with his oldest friend’s determination to bring in a Krayt dragon, though he would have been lying if he told himself he wasn’t worried for his safety considering the tremendous size and power of the creatures. Still, Krayts had been hunted on Tatooine for thousands of years and new protections had been created to guard against death, so he knew that there was somewhat of a chance that Kitster could bring one in, though very rarely did anyone even bring in even a shard of a skull. “So what are you doing here?” Kitster asked, realizing that he had not done so. “You guys looking to join in on a hunt too?” “We’d love to,” Annikin fibbed, though he hid it well, “but we’re here to try to get a meeting with Jabba so I can get out of my part of our contract.” “What for? Kitster asked him. “You changing jobs or something?” “I’m looking to leave, Kitster,” Annikin replied, noting the surprised reaction on Kitster’s face. “My friends here are trying to help me get to Coruscant.” “Coruscant?” Kitster asked with a surprised tone. “Sometimes I think that word isn’t even in our vocabulary. What’re you going there for?” “I can’t say right now,” Annikin said, uncomfortable by the fact that it would not be a good idea to reveal the true nature of his attempted exit to anyone, “but if Sarus and Obi-Wan here are right then it’ll work out well for everyone.” “Well, good luck with that,” Kitster told him, “but I doubt you’ll be able to speak to Jabba directly. He’s on Nal Hutta, so you’ll have to talk to one of his major-dumbasses instead.” Annikin silently laughed, though he could tell that Sarus and Obi-Wan did not see where the humor was. Kitster was talking about the majordomos, the heads of domestic staffs on major estates that acted on behalf of an absent owner or a larger residence. Jabba employed only a few of them, though because of their reputation for being easy targets for enemies and typically pushover nature they had earned the nickname “major dumbasses”. Many did not find it appropriate, as they liked to believe themselves to be civilized, but the youth of Tatooine joked about it whenever talk of a majordomo arose.

Even though Annikin laughed at the joke, Kitster could not find it within himself to laugh. He and Annikin had always been the closest of childhood friends, and even though their lives forced them to drift apart somewhat he still considered Annikin his best friend. It would be hard to see him leave and know he might never see him again, and his conflicted emotion about it was evident, and he knew that because he could tell very clearly that Annikin had a look of sympathy on his face. Kitster was not one who enjoyed having people being sympathetic to his problems or having them pity him, but at least it showed him that Annikin was genuinely concerned about his feelings, a trait lost on far too many people in such an egocentric galaxy.

“Why don’t you come by the farm later today,” Annikin offered. “If I am leaving, then at least we can hang out together one last time, just like the old days.”

“I’d like that,” Kitster said with a nod of agreement, “so I’ll let you get back to business then. I’ve got to be heading out anyway. See you at 17:00 hours?”

“I’ll see you then,” Annikin said as Kitster left the Hunting Lodge and Annikin turned back towards Obi-Wan and Sarus.

When Annikin turned back towards them, it was not until he saw their faces that he realized how much time had gone by speaking with Kitster. He could tell that they were not angry that he had spent a few minutes talking to a friend, but he knew that they were growing somewhat impatient. Had it been Owen who was standing there Annikin would have been annoyed at an impatient reaction considering he knew Owen to be a very stubborn man, but he could not really blame Obi-Wan and Sarus for wanting to move on to talk with someone in Jabba’s staff as soon as they could. That was especially true with Obi-Wan, as Annikin knew full well that he was involved in trying to end the conflict on Utapau, so every minute that went by was another minute that he and Arcadia were unable to try to resolve the conflict.

For that reason, Annikin went ahead of them and made his way towards the door to Jabba’s offices, which was immediately opened by one of the large green guards standing in the doorway. Annikin stepped away from the guard, trying to avoid being too close to him out of fear of him. No one had ever had good experiences with Gamorrean guards, so everyone tended to stay as far away from them as possible, even when they were up close.

As they stepped inside, the design of the office was a stark contrast to the Hunting Lodge itself, which was no surprise to Annikin as it had been built centuries after the Hunting Lodge had. While the lodge was made of wood and some metal for reinforcement here and there, the office was a metallic design that hardly fit in with the rest of Tatooine. There were ornate statues of men kneeling down behind the desk, possibly reflecting the egotistical nature of the Hutts in believing that everyone was meant to bow before them. A young male Twi’lek sat behind the main reception desk, though his back was turned away from them as he sat in his chair watching a sports game on the large HoloNet screen that took up most of the wall behind the desk.

The office reminded Obi-Wan of many of the offices and general buildings on Coruscant and other more industrial worlds, including Nar Shaddaa which did not surprise him considering it was the moon of the Hutt homeworld. Even so, the entire office felt cold with all of the silver and blue metal walls that he could even see the bolts and screws on. It was less elegant than Coruscant, though it was still the same basic metallic design that he had grown accustomed to over his life, so despite the fact that it was as if they had walked into the kath hound’s den it was a refreshing reminder of his home that he hoped to return to as quickly as possible.

The entire group looked towards the HoloNet screen, wondering what exactly it was that the Twi’Lek was watching. The Twi’Lek, Bib Fortuna, was a receptionist and local manager for Jabba the Hutt’s criminal empire. As the manager of the regional office in Anchorhead, it was his responsibility to recruit new members from the surrounding settlements and farms in order to continue supporting the ever-growing syndicate of gangsters. Recruiting on Tatooine, however, was a hard job, which was evident by the fact that Bib had time to sit around watching a sports game during office hours.

Bib was watching the popular game of grav-ball, which was played in small indoor courts. Still, it had attracted a large fan base across the galaxy. Teams of six would equip themselves with hover boots and bounce around in a three-dimensional court while trying to score goals by throwing the balls through electronic baskets on the walls. As Bib watched, the players constantly pushed off the walls, floors and even one another to gain momentum as they moved around the court holding the ball at the end of a repulsor baton that could be passed from player to player.

The Twi’lek manager was more excited about the game he was watching than most other grav-ball matches, as his personal favorite player, Deme Tryshyn, was playing. Tryshyn was the highest scoring player in the history of the game and had signed a three year partnership with Ardees Beverage Company only a few weeks earlier. According to some reports, the deal was worth over three billion credits for three straight years which made it the most lucrative product endorsement deal in galactic sports history. Many found it hypocritical that he would sign such a deal, though, because he had been very outspoken about the commercialization of grav-ball in the past. Most of his outspoken statements came from when he was summoned by the Republic Tax Collection Agency after the Grav-Vessel championship a year earlier, a case which had not been resolved. Even so, he was still allowed to play the game, much to the delight of Bib and millions of other people across the vast galaxy.

Annikin leaned up against the counter, his elbows leaning up against the blue and white plasma lights that lined the edge of the reception desk. The Twi’lek was paying almost no attention to the fact that he had someone waiting to speak with him, though they could all tell that he knew they were there when he kept trying to subtly glance towards them while completely failing the subtle part. Still, it was not until Annikin slapped his hands on the counter a few times that the Twi’lek finally turned around to acknowledge that they were there. The young, tan male did not seem to have the sense that the customer was the first concern, because even when he turned around he showed little interest in them and almost seemed to be outright annoyed that he had been taken away from the telecast of the game.

“Dolpee Bib Fortuna,” the Twi’lek said passive-aggressively in Huttese. “Ah’chu Apenkee? Hi chuba da naga?”

“My name is Sarus,” the hermit said as he stepped up beside Annikin at the desk, his voice reflecting his attempt to main a sense of calm around the clearly overly-zealous Twi’lek, “and these are my companions, Annikin and Obi-Wan. We’re here to negotiate a sharecropping contract you have with young Annikin, here.”

“Ta kozona di kato?” Bib asked, trying to gain more information. “Un lanki chu?”

“Yes, I am a farmer,” Annikin said, addressing the receptionist respectively despite his distate for the Twi’lek and his boss. “I live with my family on our homestead, just a few kilometers from here.”

“Kin a pika nay teru chu?” Bib asked, curious as to whether or not Jabba had done any additional business besides sharecropping with Annikin’s father in the past.

“His name is Cliegg Lars,” Annikin said, knowing that it would not be a wise decision to reveal to a gangster that he was a product of a supposed virgin conception.

“Yana na gulu,” Bib told Annikin angrily.

“Look, I know my father hasn’t always been the most loyal member of Jabba’s little collection of slaves,” Annikin said with an agitated tone, “ but you have to understand us when we say that I have to leave this planet.”

“Bargon nenki,” Bib told them with a finite tone.

“Please,” Sarus pleaded while maintaining his calm tone, “it’s imperative that Annikin leaves Tatooine at once.”

“Bargon wanchi kox paa,” Bib shouted fiercely, trying to effectively make his point that he knew Jabba would not allow him to make a bargain that would lead to a loss of sharecropping profits.

Throughout the entirety of the brief conversation, Obi-Wan had kept his thoughts centered on the Twi’lek receptionist. It was clear that Bib had a very large ego because of his time as one of Jabba’s employees, and that it was one that needed to be stroked and manipulated in order for one to get what they wanted from him. From what Obi-Wan could tell, Bib truly had no idea as to whether or not Jabba would reject the request or approve it with conditions. The only way to find out would be to ask the Hutt crime lord himself.

“Mister Fortuna,” Obi-Wan said, breaking his silence in a manner that conveyed a false sense of entitlement for the Twi’lek, “I can tell that you are a very reasonable man when you want to be. Please, talk to the illustrious Jabba for us. See if there is anything at all we can do to curry favor with him or to allow Annikin to be taken out of the contract you have with the Lars family.”

The Twi’lek was prepared to reject them for the third and final time and forcefully remove them from the office, though he knew that it was true that he had no idea as to what Jabba’s answer would be. Though he did speak for Jabba at the Anchorhead office as the manager of the office, it would have been arrogantly presumptuous of him to assume he knew what decision his master would make. Therefore, Bib nodded and went into his own private office and communication center where he would be able to privately contact his master before he had another meeting on Nal Hutta.

Just as Bib left for his communication center, Arcadia and Jar walked through the door of the office. They were all surprised to see them, but they were mostly surprised to see Arcadia without her guards. Still, that surprised reaction subsided when they actually thought about it, as they had already seen her casually dismiss her guards before wandering off into the desert with perfect strangers. In their minds, that was much worse than walking into the local settlement without guards, so in the end it was almost expected of her. Still, they did not actually expect her and Jar to leave the homestead, as they had told them that they would not be long.

Binks was carrying an entire backpack filled with water, almost enough to actually weigh him down though he had stopped short of that. He knew he had to be prepared to go out into the daytime heat, considering what the nighttime heat had done to him. Still, he had expected to quickly enter a cool building like the Hunting Lodge as soon as they arrived in the settlement, though Arcadia had insisted that they explore for a few minutes. They had only been in the streets for ten minutes, but he had convinced her that he absolutely needed to go inside, so she kindly agreed to go inside as well so he wouldn’t suffer.

Even still, the queen had enjoyed the brief amount of time she had spent in the settlement. An entire wall and gate surrounded it so it did take a few minutes to get in, but when they finally did gain entrance they saw street vendors and people standing at them looking to buy whatever they could afford in the way of food, water and other non-materialistic commodities. There were not many people in the streets, most likely due to the heat at that time of the day, though it did give her somewhat of a clear picture as to what a normal day on Tatooine could be like, even though she knew only Annikin and Sarus would know what a normal Tatooine day was like.

Regardless, she was happy and pleased at what she had seen, so at least she would be able to take some knowledge of another culture back to her people, assuming her people were still alive when she arrived home. The constant worrying over what was happening on Utapau was beginning to take a toll on her, as she truly had no idea what was happening because of the lack of communication with her people, though she could only hope that Governor Bibble and the other senior members of the planetary government were able to keep things relatively under their own sovereign control.

“Your high...,” Obi-Wan started to say before realizing that announcing the title of a monarch he was trying to protect would be a foolish move. “Sabé, what are you two doing here? We weren’t going to be long.”

“I was just curious about the locale,” Arcadia said with a subtle laugh at Obi-Wan’s near faux pas. “I’ve already seen what the sand in the desert looks like, so I thought I’d see what the actual settlements are like.”

“Truthfully, I came out here because Captain Panaka asked me too,” Jar told them, though judging by the lack of a reaction from the queen they could only assume that she had already figured that part out. “I’m not exactly enjoying the heat again.”

“Understandable,” Obi-Wan said with a smile. “Well, it’s always a pleasure to have you two around. We’re almost done here, but we can always look around the settlement when we’re done with our business.”

Arcadia was about to respond, but they were all distracted by the sudden change on the HoloNet screen. Tryshyn had just thrust himself off of the wall and was heading in to score a game winning goal, but just as he was making his way to the goal a breaking news bulletin screen appeared. They all moved in closer to see what it had to say, each of them fearing the worst as to what it could be. The graphics swirled in and out before finally stating the words “Breaking News” in aurebash, and when they dissipated a Gran announcer standing outside the Galactic Senate on Coruscant began to speak.

“Good evening,” the Gran said in his native language which was subtitled at the bottom of the screen, “I’m Jonme Rosan, the local correspondent for Coruscanti Central Broadcasting, standing outside the Galactic Senate on Coruscant. CCB has received unconfirmed reports that Utapau has been invaded by the armies of the Trade Federation and that Queen Sabé Arcadia is missing in action. Utapau Senator Malus Palpatine and Supreme Chancellor Valorum have reportedly been locked in discussion for the past several days, though those reports are unconfirmed at this time. Further reports suggest that the invasion is a full occupation of the backwater world. Thousands are said to be dead while millions more are injured and in concentration camps. There are even unconfirmed reports of the planet’s primitives working with the Trade Federation in the invasion. We’ll keep you updated as more information begins to surface from the capital.”

As the breaking news bulletin was over, the screen flashed back to the grav-ball came. The buzzer had already sounded and Tryshyn was being hailed as a hero once again. The small crowd in the even smaller complex rushed onto the court and raised Tryshyn over their heads, proclaiming him, as always, to be the greatest grav-ball player ever to live. While Bib was unable to see the game winning point because of his duties in contacting Jabba, he would more than likely be able to see a game recap on the HoloNet News later in the day, provided more reports about Utapau did not flood the galactic holo channels again.

Arcadia cared little for sports. In fact, it was almost as if the final part of the grav-ball game had not even come back on. Her mind was still intently focused on the Gran reporter and what he had been saying about the situation on her home, but more so with the situation about the safety of her people. How could she have let so many deaths happen? That was the question that kept swirling around in her confused mind. More importantly, though, was how the rest of the leaders could have let something like that happen. She had trusted them to keep the people safe, but it might not have even made a difference if she had been there. The Trade Federation was ruthless, and it was just as likely that they would have killed her if she had stayed on the planet.

Every part of her wanted to scream. She wanted to lunge at the wall and rip the HoloNet screen right off of it. Her hands ached to wrap themselves around the neck of Nute Gunray and squeeze it until the life left his twisted and psychotic eyes, but she resisted those temptations. She lowered her head for a moment and clenched her fists together as hard as she could, slowly counting to ten to try to calm her nerves, and when she was done her head came back up. She wanted to cry for her people, though she was not in private so she would never allow herself to do so. Even so, it would be obvious to the others how much pain she was in, but that was just the mark of a compassionate leader.

Seeing the pain and guilt in her eyes, Obi-Wan put a comforting hand on her shoulder. As she took it as a gesture of gratitude, Obi-Wan could think of nothing but the events on the Trade Federation ship that led to him arriving on Utapau. The events played rapidly through his mind as he tried to figure out whether there was another course of action he could have taken. Even though they had found Annikin and he truly believed that he was brought to Tatooine for a reason, he could not help but wonder whether or not things would have been different in the Utapau situation had he not pushed so hard for Arcadia to come with them to Coruscant, especially since the damage to the ship never allowed them to get to Coruscant. Even so, he did not want to dwell on the past as it would only distract him, so he knew that he would have to help find a way to end the situation as quickly as possible.

Much to his dismay, Jar knew full well what the reporter meant when he said that there were reports of primitive inhabitants of the planet working with the Trade Federation to help with the invasion. While he would not have described his own people as primitive, far from it in fact, he knew that there were those in his society that would work with such a vile organization just because of their hatred of the Humans on Utapau. The first person that came to mind was Rugor Nass. Jar always suspected that Nass had the ability to be a deceptive and power hungry tyrant, which was more than likely why he made sure Jar was banished from Otoh Gunga, but the idea that he would actually betray the entire world just out of spite was something that never crossed his mind.

Jar’s mind flocked back to what Sarus had told him about the Rana Hama. As he had been told, the Rana Hama was an exiled monarch and the one he would extract vengeance upon was a traitor. If Nass was responsible for aiding with the Federation’s conquest of his homeworld, then Jar, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind, would ensure that Nass was brought to justice and that honor and integrity was restored to all of the Gungan people. Whether or not he would take the throne of his people was not something he would decide, though he would be sure to do everything in his power to bring down Rugor Nass for good.

Though none of the others were thinking it, Sarus realized that Annikin could have been the key to the successful outcome of the entire situation. He was destined to bring great change to the galaxy, so it was entirely possible that the great change would begin on the queen’s homeworld. While there was also the chance that Annikin would not be able to do anything to end the crisis at all, Sarus became even more determined to get him off of the desert rock as quickly as possible. Time was not something that they had and any more delays would only begin to cost them, and the people on Utapau, very dearly.

All of their thoughts turned back to the situation at hand when the Twi’lek manager emerged from the communication center. He seemed dumbfounded, as if he had just been told something that made very little sense to him. That gave Sarus and Obi-Wan a newfound sense of confidence, as they truly believed that Jabba would not have allowed them to take Annikin with them, which would have forced them to find another means of getting him off of Tatooine, even if those means were illegal.

“What did your master say about our request?” Sarus asked hopefully.

“Za kopa swoops Sebulba pagari,” Bib said with a massive grin as the words came out of his mouth and the optimism on Annikin’s face all but diminished.

“What did he say?” Obi-Wan asked upon seeing Annikin’s troubling reaction.

“He says I have to win a swoop race tomorrow against Sebulba,” Annikin replied, “the Dug I told you that I could never beat. Knowing Jabba, this is the only offer he’ll make, so I don’t really have much of a choice here.”

Annikin’s mind flashed the images of the last swoop race he had entered, and he could not keep his mind off of the image of the greedy Sebulba crossing the finish line before him all because of the Dug’s cheating. Annikin knew full well that his opponent would play dirty again, probably even with the blessing of Jabba’s entire criminal empire, so Annikin knew that he would have to be extremely cautious. If he failed to be so, then he knew it was entirely possible that he would wind up dead or horribly injured.

Despite what Annikin felt, Sarus’s emotions had nothing to do with worry or cautiousness. Instead, he felt insulted that Jabba the Hutt would make an offer like that. Jabba clearly knew of Annikin’s past as a swoop racer with Sebulba, so the offer itself was meant simply to make sure that Annikin did not leave the contract, assuming he was not killed against Sebulba. While Sarus knew that the odds of being killed were low, the odds of losing against someone who always cheated were incredibly high. For that reason, and his promise to help Annikin get off of Tatooine to fulfill his destiny, Sarus would make sure that he did whatever he could to ensure a victory for the young racer.

“Thank you for your time,” Sarus said with an undeserved nod of respect.

“Kama pagari,” Bib replied with a tone that suggested he greatly enjoyed the prospect of seeing Annikin race against someone who stood a fair chance of beating him, though the Twi’lek did reluctantly return the nod with a false sense of respect.

As Bib turned away and began changing the HoloNet screen channels to look for yet another sports game, preferably another grav-ball tournament, he realized very quickly that he had missed the end of the game. He saw the recaps of Tryshyn being hailed as a hero once again on every single sports station, but he had no idea why he was being hailed as one because he did not see the game winning point. He could have easily jumped across the counter and expressed just how angry he was at the outsiders for taking up his time and causing him to miss the game he had been watching for ours, but in the end he knew that it was not worth it. Watching Annikin die the next day would be enough for him.

While the Twi’lek continued to fume to himself, Annikin and the others quickly left the office and made their way back into the Hunting Lodge. As they started towards the exit, Sarus could recall seeing Annikin in a swoop race some years earlier, as he had kept an eye on him during his early years to make sure no harm came to him. Annikin had been up against some of the best, even though he was only a child, no more than ten or eleven standard years old. It was on Boonta’s Eve at the Mos Espa circuit, and even though Annikin did not win he came in the top ten, which was something that was incredibly difficult to accomplish even if the racer was an adult that had been racing for a few years. The Ophuchi leader could tell that it was not luck, but rather it was the will of the Force that allowed him to do so well, causing Annikin to want to continue racing until he could hone his skills and finally win a race when it truly mattered.

Sarus was even more diligent to make sure no harm came to Annikin because of the importance of safety in swoop races, considering how dangerous the sport was. Still, he knew that Annikin was a skilled and competent racer, though whether or not that would be enough would be revealed in only a few short hours. Until that time came the next day, Sarus and the others would be waiting with baited breath.

Chapter 14: Freedom
The desert’s morning breeze gently danced through the garage, making a few loose items flutter and fall to the ground when it gracefully collided with them. Threepio and Artoo walked in from the main pit of the homestead, talking amongst themselves. The talking was faint enough so that it would not disturb Annikin, who was sleeping in the corner with his racer.

“Well I say Artoo,” the rusted protocol droid told his smaller companion, “I can’t stand these awful races, but if Master Annikin has to leave I suppose this is the only way for him.”

Threepio and Artoo had spent the night helping Annikin repair the engines on his racer, as they had been damaged over an entire year of not being used. Considering how Annikin frequently worked with machinery and that racers going over six hundred kilometers needed to be frequently worked on, the two droids were both somewhat surprised that Annikin had not taken any time to work on any of the repairs in the past year.

Even so, Threepio knew full well about Annikin’s last race against Sebulba, and his last race overall. Annikin had been cheated out of the cash prize that he wanted to help his family, and was furiously distraught over it, so much so that Threepio had been surprised to see Annikin give up racing overall because of it. The droid could only assume that it was the reason Annikin had neglected his racer for so long.

Having just come from outside, Threepio’s sensors could tell that it was cooler inside the garage as it was sheltered from the warm breeze. The hushed and darker surroundings had proven to be the resting place of Annikin for the night. His tanned hands held his arcane tools even as he was lying on the ground against his fully repaired swoop racer.

“We don’t have much time,” Threepio said worriedly. “We’ll need to paint Master Annikin’s racer quickly.”

Had Artoo been a sentient being, he more than likely would have laughed at Threepio’s desire to paint a racer that would be used for only a few minutes against one person, especially when that one person was Sebulba. Instead, the small astro droid let out what would sound only like a small chirp to anyone else, though Threepio knew full well what it meant. It was Artoo’s equivalent of a mocking laugh.

Before Threepio could respond, Annikin started to stir from his sleep, having been woken up by their conversation, after all. He leaned his head back for a moment only to find that he hit his racer, so he slowly stood up from where he was, using the swoop to help him stand up considering how groggy he still was. He had heard what Threepio had said and would have also laughed had he had the energy, but instead he simply turned towards him and smiled

“Don’t worry about it, Threepio,” Annikin said slowly with a lack of energy. “We’re not going for glamour here, just speed.”

“But sir,” Threepio began to say, though he was cut off when Annikin put his hand up to tell him to stop talking, something that frequently happened to him.

Threepio had gotten used to his Human masters silencing him. He had been frequently labeled as somewhat of a chatterbox, always going on about the topic at hand. He did not notice it all too much, as talking was part of his programming. He did not know about other protocol droids, but it was simply in his nature, so there was little he could do to change it. The only thing that would rectify something like that was if he was reprogrammed, but Annikin and the others had chosen not to do that, despite constant threats from Owen that he would.

Out of all of the family members, Owen was the one person that Threepio never understood. He was clearly arrogant, and though Threepio was designed to tolerate that there were still parts of him that wished Owen would act differently around others. He could tell that he had trust issues, and he even accidentally said that to him once. Annikin and Owen were once arguing about trust issues, and Threepio noted that Owen’s issues with trust might have been a reason for Beru leaving. Owen threatened to shoot Threepio and for a few hours the protocol droid believed that he was going to do it, but he confusingly did not which only added to what Threepio saw as an enigma about Owen.

Even so, Threepio held a high level of trust and respect for the Lars family. Annikin was his official master, as he was the one that had found and rebuilt him, but he also enjoyed the company of Shmi and Cliegg. Shmi was a very nurturing woman and she treated Threepio as if he was a member of the family, and Cliegg, while rough around his edges, was a decent man who treated Threepio with respect. Threepio also respected Owen, mainly because he was programmed to, but that did not stop him from becoming frequently confused because of him.

“Threepio,” Annikin said, causing Threepio to look back towards him, “it’s fine. Really, it doesn’t need a new paint job.”

Artoo once again chirped his mocking laugh, though he added an insult onto it through calling Threepio a ‘mindless idiot’ and a group of other rather uncalled for words. Threepio jolted back in surprise, and though he could see no emotion Annikin could tell that it offended him. Annikin had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Threepio looked about in confusion, wondering what would make Artoo insult him in such a way.

“Well that was uncalled for,” Threepio told the astro droid. “How you’ve gone this long without a mind wipe is beyond my level of comprehension.”

As Annikin glanced down to lift the hood of his racer so he could complete a final inspection on it, the droids walked out of the garage, all the while continuing the conversation about how offended Threepio was. Annikin had always been amazed at how Human the protocol droid had seemed to him. Threepio, despite being somewhat paranoid about every situation imaginable, was always a faithful and loyal companion. Although he was programmed for loyalty, Annikin always had the feeling that Threepio always enjoyed being where he was, though that could have also simply been his own feelings about having Threepio around.

While he kept looking over his racer to make sure every bolt was fastened, every valve was clear and every fuel cell was full, Kitster walked down the steps. It took a few moments for Annikin to realize that he had entered the area, but when he finally noticed he was surprised at the look on Kitster’s face. For starters, there was a large gash above Kitster’s eye as if he had been attacked, but aside from that he looked emotionally taxed, though he could not understand why. For whatever reason, he even seemed hesitant about arriving, which worried Annikin as Kitster had never seemed hesitant about seeing him before.

“What happened to you last night?” Annikin asked with great concern as he looked up from his work. “I thought you were gonna come over.”

“Jabba,” Kitster said, and with that one word his look of hesitancy quickly turned into one of visible anger. “His men raided our farm. We spent all last night cleaning up after those goons.”

Kitster could still see the men approaching in their armed speeders as if it was happening at that moment. When they arrived, they immediately held him and his father captive, demanding to know where they were holding illegal contraband. They had no idea what the men were talking about, so they could only guess that they had fabricated evidence to justify an attack on their property. They searched for hours, but were unable to find anything. At first they only believed that it was well hidden so they physically assaulted Kitster and his father, causing the wound above Kitster’s eye, but they eventually left when they realized that there was nothing for them to find.

“What?” Annikin asked in shock. “Why?”

“Damned if I know,” Kitster replied angrily. “Do they ever need a reason?”

Annikin inadvertently slammed his tools onto the front hood of his swoop racer, though when he realized that he did he was relieved that he had not put any dents in it. Regardless, a dent in his racer was the least of his concerns. As he heard what Kitster told him, Annikin had a bad feeling that he was the reason that the farm had been raided. It was entirely possible that Bib Fortuna or even Jabba himself was trying to send a message to Annikin by assaulting his closest friend, but even so it only strengthened Annikin’s resolve. While he already knew he had to win the race to free himself, they gave him a reason to prove himself.

As he thought further, Annikin recalled a similar incident on his own property only a few years earlier. Though there was no fabrication of evidence involved, Jabba’s men raided his farm just to prove a point to Cliegg that he had no right to speak out against Jabba. Cliegg had organized a protest to try to free the local farmers of their forced contracts with Jabba’s crime syndicate, something that the Hutt crime lord did not take kindly to. Cliegg refused to back down despite the raid, so to prove a point, one of the guards shot Beru, who was there at the time.

Beru’s wounds were nearly fatal. When Jabba’s goons left, they rushed her to the best doctor they knew of in Mos Espa for treatment. She was on a life support system for nearly four days and Owen stayed by her side the entire time. During the last few days of being on life support, it seemed as if she was getting worse and that she would pass, but in what appeared to be a miracle she was able to be taken off life support and she recovered from her wounds. Annikin felt as if they had been greatly blessed, considering it had appeared that she was going to die for days.

“No,” Annikin said as he brought his attention back to Kitster. “No, I guess not.”

Silence fell upon the room when Annikin was finished speaking. For a few moments, they stared at each other, unsure of what to say in such an awkward moment. Finally, Kitster approached the racer and took a look at it, seeing if there was anything that Annikin had missed. Kitster had also been a racer for a few years, and he and Annikin had gotten into trouble more times than he could remember by racing through the canyons, so he knew when a racer was finished.

“You think it’s ready?” Kitster asked, breaking the silence.

“It should be,” Annikin said.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Arcadia said as she stood in the entryway. “Your future depends on it.”

Followed by Obi-Wan, the queen made her way into the garage, seemingly taking in the cooler air. Annikin frequently went to the garage in the mornings because of the more hospitable environment, though it would not be long until that no longer mattered. Once the early morning passed, the cool air disappeared in all parts of the homestead, leaving only the dry heat of the rest of the planet to cope with. Annikin would only be able to imagine the Ophuchi Sanctuary where there were such feelings of moisture and cool air. It was something he would miss.

“Don’t remind me,” Annikin said sarcastically in response to Arcadia’s previous comment, placing his tools into the toolbox by his feet while doing so.

“She’s right, Annikin,” Obi-Wan said while trying to sound as comforting and encouraging as possible. “There is a great deal at stake here, and you will be needing all of the skills you have for this race.”

The weight that Annikin had felt upon his shoulders began to feel heavier as Obi-Wan spoke. Doing well in the race was not only his ticket off of the planet, but it also meant the difference between potentially saving a galaxy and condemning it. Looking over at Obi-Wan, Annikin could tell that the Jedi Knight felt the same way. The night before, Obi-Wan had told him that he did not believe in accidents. If he lost the swoop race, then it would likely prove that Annikin was not the Chosen One. If he won the race, it would not fully prove anything but it would be the next piece of evidence in the entire mystery and it would mean that the Force was on his side.

“Got any advice?” Annikin asked, trying to mask his obvious insecurity about the race in sarcasm.

Obi-Wan began to speak, but he felt that what he was going to say about racing would not suit the situation. He scratched his beard while he thought of what to say, and then he remembered something that Qui-Gon Jinn had once told him. Obi-Wan had been involved in a training exercise that required a great deal of strength and focus, all while he was blindfolded and could see nothing. Obi-Wan had felt very unsure about it, but Qui-Gon’s words seemed to put things into focus.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said as he stepped closer and placed his hand on Annikin’s shoulder for a moment. “Feel, don’t think. Use your instincts, and failing will be far more difficult than succeeding.”

Annikin took a moment to reflect on the words, because at first he did not know what Obi-Wan had meant by them. Annikin’s first thoughts were why could he not think? He was unable to grasp that Obi-Wan was telling him to try to reach out, feel and trust in the Force, but after a few moments he realized that was exactly what he meant. While Annikin had relied in instinct in the past, he had never stopped thinking and relied only on it. He would have to try his best.

“Thanks,” Annikin said as Obi-Wan removed his hand from his shoulder.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said with a nod of his head, “now let’s get your racer loaded and to the track before we’re late.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Annikin said before turning back to Kitster, who had remained silent for the past few minutes, to see if he would be willing to help load the racer. “Kitster?”

Kitster had been lost in his own thoughts about the raid the night before, so his head jolted somewhat when he heard his name called. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was being asked, but when he did he went with Annikin and Obi-Wan to the racer. Annikin started up the repulsor lift on the bottom to let it hover, and when it was in the air the three of them pushed it out into the main hold where the sun caught their eyes, causing them to momentarily look away.

When their eyes adjusted to the light, they continued to push the hovering racer over to a platform that was attached by a metal link to the family’s main, fastest and largest air speeder. They would need that speed, as the time to begin the race was soon approaching. Before stepping into the speeder, they pushed the racer onto the platform, and as Annikin shut down the repulsor lift the craft gently set itself down onto the platform.

Stepping into the driver’s seat, Annikin breathed a sigh of both relief and nervousness. While he was relieved that he was able to finish modifications and repairs on his speeder in a short time, considering that a year had passed since he last worked on it, he knew that was only half the battle. To win his freedom he would have to win the race, and he was not sure if he had enough faith in himself to see himself through to a victory.

Night had fallen over Theed on Utapau and there was a strange and eerie silence throughout the area as a dense fog began to roll in. Even when the weather was not exceptional, people still littered the streets as nighttime was generally a time of celebration for the people across the planet. Most of them would have just finished a hard day of honest work and would reward themselves by dancing, going to bars and finding other means of recreation.

There was none of that after the Federation arrived. Rather than seeing people walking throughout the area smiling jubilantly with their friends, spouses and family members, all that could be heard was the metallic movement of the battle droids that littered the area. Sio Bibble watched this from the windows of the palace throne room, disgusted by the scourge that had thrust itself onto his home.

As he continued to watch, he was grabbed by three battle droids and turned around where he was brought into the center of the room. He waited for a few moments, but soon the throne room doors were thrust open and Nute Gunray made his way in. He was sitting in his own personal mechno-chair, a robotic device that carried him in four legs from one part of a room to another. Moving in response to a touch of his fingertips, it turned and brought the Neimoidian Viceroy towards Bibble and other Utapau officials. Gunray was able to remain relaxed while seated comfortably, despite the soreness of his muscles caused by Maul, which was why he was in the chair to begin with, as he watched what he perceived as fear in the eyes of the officials behind the Governor of Theed.

Bibble, who showed no outward fear, could not help but think about what had led him to that point. He was born in the fourth residential district in Theed, one of the poorer areas of the city. While he was going through school, he knew that his parents would be unable to pay for his higher learning, so he made sure that he received excellent grades. This strive towards perfection eventually led to him receiving a full four year scholarship to the University of Utapau where he later graduated towards the top of his class. After he graduated, he spent some time in the Business International Corporation in Theed as a lower field manager. For reasons that he could never understand, the work always seemed unfulfilling to him. Eventually, Bibble resigned from the corporation and became a community organizer in the capital. After some time, he decided to attend law school and graduated three years later. He served as a pro bono lawyer for many years before deciding to throw his hat into the political ring, feeling he could do a great deal of good in the system. He was elected to the planetary legislature one year later, but soon set his sights on higher things. Regardless, he spent time in the legislature working to strengthen bipartisan relations. He later became the Chairman of the Health and Sentient Services Committee. A few years later, Bibble decided to run for Utapau’s seat in the Galactic Senate as the liberal candidate. His opponent was the conservative Malus Palpatine. While Palpatine stressed the importance for stronger armed forces and a larger budget for defense, Bibble strongly opposed such measures and instead called for a reduction in defense budgets by at least fifty percent. In the end, even the peaceful people of Utapau did not agree with Bibble’s calls, so they elected Palpatine. Bibble gave a gracious concession speech in which he called for unity between the two sides, and to his relief, Palpatine agreed and had made every effort since to keep the people of Utapau unified. Not to be discouraged by his loss, Bibble remained in the state legislature for a few years. Eventually, he launched a campaign to become Governor of Theed. His opponent was not well favored to win, and Bibble was able to easily attain the endorsement of then-King Veruna Arcadia. The election was won in a landslide and Bibble continued in that position for many years, serving as one of the chief advisors to Veruna and later his daughter, once she became queen. Bibble rarely spoke out against the monarchy as he did not feel it was his place except for extreme circumstances. One of the only times was when he spoke against the deal made by Veruna and Palpatine with the Trade Federation for plasma trading. He felt that there would be grave repercussions, but he never imagined that it would have led to Veruna’s assassination and an invasion of the planet by the Trade Federation. He also did not approve of how Queen Arcadia kept the N-1 Starfighter Corps intact after her ascendance to the throne, though she was able to convince him to silence his opposition due to what she saw as an extreme necessity to keep them in operation.

He never would have imagined finding himself wishing that the planet had more forces. He had always been an outspoken pacifist, but he realized all too tragically that if the planet had built a military or even kept many of the measures that Veruna instituted then it was possible that they would have stood a much better chance against Gunray and his federation of fools and cowards. Unfortunately, that was not the case and they were forced to suffer the consequences of it.

After a few moments of slow maneuvers, the mechno-chair finally arrived directly in front of Bibble, who noticed Rune Haako standing close behind his superior. Gunray wore a sinister, albeit fake, smile when he approached him, trying to maintain that sense of superiority over the government officials. Bibble, however, could see through it and knew that his own actions had been a cause for concern and irritation throughout the Federation hierarchy on the planet.

Instead of meeting Gunray’s smile with any sort of fear, he instead faced him with anger and determination. Gunray returned his anger with his own glance of annoyance, which was exactly what Bibble wanted to see. Seeing the look of annoyance made Bibble realize that the strike he had instituted among the people and particularly the government was working and that Gunray had reason to worry.

“When are you going to give up this pointless strike, Governor?” Gunray finally asked, not masking his irritation well.

“I will give up the strike, Viceroy,” Bibble began, “when Queen Arcadia - ”

“Your queen is lost,” Haako said, stepping out from behind his Viceroy’s chair and, in effect, his metaphorical shadow, “your people are starving and you, Governor, are going to die much sooner than your people if you do not comply.”

“We will not be intimidated into serving you,” Bibble said with a righteous tone of indignation, “not even at the cost of innocent lives.”

Gunray held back his desire to laugh at the comment. He found it amusing that Bibble would be so foolish as he realized that he had underestimated him. Gunray had assumed that Bibble would immediately comply when innocent lives were at stake, but it appeared that he had been wrong. Regardless, Gunray always remembered something that his father had told him when they both served in the military, and that was that non-Neimoidians were braver with innocent lives than they were with their own.

“Not even at the cost of your own?” Gunray asked wryly.

The Viceroy raised his hand and additional battle droids surrounded Bibble, all of them raising their blasters towards him. The Governor looked at each of them and briefly felt a chill of terror making its way up his spine, though he knew that he could not become selfish and give up his ideals and his duties simply because he felt some ounce of fear within him. He did not let the fear show, and instead stayed resolute and confident before the Viceroy.

“This invasion will gain you nothing,” Bibble told him forcefully. “We’re a democratic society. The people have decided that they will not live under your tyranny.”

Gunray nearly shook with rage. He was sure that his father’s advice would be effective, but it had failed him. The Governor continued to defy what would become a legitimate claim over the planet and Gunray refused to allow any more insubordination from the meager Human being. He threw his hands up in disgust, prompting the droids to lower their weapons and grab the Governor.

“Take him away!” Gunray exploded.

Bibble let out a faint grin at Gunray’s reaction, one that he had hoped to cause. The fact that Gunray had become angry proved that he was also becoming desperate. The Governor knew that he had help from Lord Maul and others in planning the blockade, so he could only assume that Gunray no longer knew what to do without any assistance from those people. If Bibble and his men continued what they were doing, it was entirely possible that the Federation’s war effort would crumble apart.

As Bibble was taken away, Gunray had no time to think about what had just occurred. OOM-9 quickly entered the room and approached him, saluting as it arrived. The Viceroy had been waiting for hours for a report from the battle droid commander about current events, something that he had requested to know every two hours which made OOM-9 late. Gunray did not care at that point, but rather wanted to know what progress the droid had made.

“My troops are in position to begin their assaults on the underwater villages you directed us to,” OOM-9’s mechanical voice said coldly and inhumanely. “Is there anything more that you need from them beforehand?”

Gunray pondered the question for a moment, unsure as to whether he would need them for anything further. Certain members of the Gungan governmental council had been very helpful in the Invasion of Utapau and he had originally promised that their settlements would be left intact, but he could not risk allowing a powerful civilization to remain standing. Their loyalties were questionable and he was not about to allow an uprising to begin because of them.

“Bring me their leaders,” Gunray told the droid suspiciously, “then torch their settlements to the ground.”

OOM-9 saluted once more before turning and leaving the throne room. As he did, Gunray could not help but become worried, and his feelings were not helped by the shared look of concern Haako had written across his face. It was true that Gunray felt somewhat helpless without the guidance of Maul, who had left unexpectedly, and the others that had aided him, but he felt that he could properly handle the situation. Whether or not that ended up being true was another matter entirely.

The suns were becoming hotter by the minute, though the depth and large rocks of Beggar’s Canyon provided some protection from them. The canyon was massive in size, having been formed by the junction of three rivers thousands of years earlier when the planet still supported water and vegetation. Numerous species lived within it, including the canyon krayt dragon and the womp rat, though the latter was the only one that was frequently encountered.

The canyon served as a site for the youth of nearby Anchorhead to relax in the shade, but mostly to show off their racing and piloting skills to one another. Pilots of both swoop racers and Incom T-13 skyhoppers would complete inside the dangerous maze of rock walls, and many would also practice their targeting abilities and earn some credits by killing womp rats with modified blasters at the bow of their crafts when they raced at breakneck speeds.

Annikin also knew the canyon to be the location of the Stone Needle, a strange formation of rocks that rose nearly twenty meters into the air from the canyon floor. It occasionally factored into racers, as a few seconds would be able to be cast off by going through it, though it was a high risk maneuver that many pilots decided against using. Annikin was one of those pilots that had decided his life was more important than winning, and he was thankful that he would not have to worry about it in the upcoming race as their location was already past that area of the canyon.

Sweating as they worked, Annikin and Kitster pushed the racer off of the platform attached to the air speeder after they had activated the repulsor lift. Though the work was not particularly strenuous, it somewhat felt that way due to the heat of midmorning. Regardless, Annikin was able to take comfort in the fact that there was a chance he would no longer have to worry about the desert heat by the end of the day, though that all relied on whether or not he would be able to beat his arch rival Sebulba in the race that was scheduled to begin in only a few minutes.

Annikin looked over his shoulder for a moment to see if there was any activity behind him and turned away when he saw none, but something else that caught his attention turned him to snap his head back. Obi-Wan was talking to Bib Fortuna against a rock face near the two spectator buildings that had been reserved for the outsiders and Jabba’s men. The conversation, which Annikin was unable to hear as he continued to work and watch at the same time, appeared to be somewhat heated but it cooled back down after a few minutes.

When the conversation was over, Obi-Wan and the Twi’lek shook hands before walking off in separate directions. Bib made his way towards Annikin, wearing a large grin as if he had just been given good news. That made Annikin all the more interested in what Obi-Wan was telling Bib, though he could only assume that it was for Annikin’s own benefit and perhaps the benefit of the other outsiders.

After a few moments, Bib stopped when he was close and Kitster appeared visibly angry. He began to walk towards the Twi’lek manager, but Annikin put out his arm to hold him back. The angered young raid victim tried to push through, but Annikin still held him back. Annikin did not need to use words to tell Kitster that it was not worth it, and as Kitster backed down, Bib became all the more amused.

“Noobi oonatee raca, rookie poodoo?” Bib asked sarcastically.

“Wow,” Annikin said, realizing that his own sarcasm could have consequences if the Twi’lek became angry enough, “those are tough words coming from some lackey.”

“Da beesqa coo palyeeya pityee bo tenya go kaka juju hoopa!” Bib shouted as he stepped towards Annikin in a visible rage at the term “lackey,” though the veiled threads amused Annikin as he remained cognizant that he could have been telling the truth in his verbal assault.

Threepio was startled by Bib’s threat. He knew that swoop racing was a particularly competitive sport that formed rivalries and fierce hatreds between opposing racers, but he was amazed at how far the Twi’lek was willing to take it. Even more so, though, he was worried that Bib would actually carry out his attack against Annikin, so he felt that it was best to warn his master before Bib was able to do so.

“Oh, um,” Threepio began, unsure as to how best to translate the threat, “he says that the last fool that called him that got his antennae stuffed down his throat.”

“I know what he said, Threepio,” Annikin told the droid as he walked up to and stood directly in front of the Twi’lek, finding himself mere inches away from his face. “You can say whatever you want, lackey, but I’m gonna win this race and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me.”

Annikin retained a confident demeanor when he spoke, though on the inside he was terrified of making a liar out of himself. He knew that, aside from winning, he had something to prove to a lot of people, Jabba’s men included. If he was to lose after making an assertion like that, he knew that it would be very embarrassing and he did not want to imagine what the resulting consequences of it would be, both in terms of his time on Tatooine and his potential destiny.

Nearly exploding in anger, Bib was prepared to physically assault Annikin for calling him a lackey once again. However, that anger went away when he noticed over Annikin’s shoulder that Sebulba walked up to Annikin’s swoop racer. Sebulba gently tapped down a few times on a port stabilizer to loosen it and therefore take it offline, and when he felt that no one was looking he walked away. Bib realized after the Dug left the area that becoming angry did not matter, as Annikin was likely to be dead within a matter of minutes due to the sabotage.

“Soong peetch alay,” Bib said confidently, though the others became confused by this as they had not seen Sebulba tamper with the engine.

“Too late for what?” Annikin asked, still confused as to what he meant.

Rather than remaining to answer the question or continue an argument, Bib turned and walked off, happy to know that Annikin was about to die. Annikin and Kitster shrugged off what he had said, though Kitster still wished that Annikin had let him do something about the Twi’lek. Seeing any of Jabba the Hutt’s men at that point was angering enough for him, but he especially hated Bib Fortuna. Kitster knew him to be a master of propaganda, the one person that could actively recruit people from the Anchorhead region into the criminal syndicate. Most of the recruits were non-Humans like Bib, but the anger remained all the same.

“You should’ve let me kill that guy,” Kitster said as they closed the gate on the back of the platform that carried the swoop, which at that point was hovering above the sands a meter away from them.

“And risk pissing off Jabba?” Annikin asked, wondering if Kitster was thinking straight. “No way. I don’t want to lose this chance before I even start the race.”

“I guess,” Kitster told him reluctantly, “but I bet he’s the one who had those goons sack my farm last night.”

“They’ll get what they deserve,” Annikin told him comfortingly. “I promise you that.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kitster said sincerely, “for all our sakes.”

Annikin was about to try to offer his friend some comforting words about the situation, but they were interrupted by Sebulba who approached them from the front. He was a Dug born on Malastare, and like most members of his species he was overly aggressive and belligerent, becoming a person who felt that it was important to assert his superiority over all other people, especially Humans. The species was arboreal and had four limbs that could all be used as legs and arms, though Sebulba preferred putting his weight on his arms and performing tasks with his legs.

Sebulba frequently claimed that his winnings were given to those less fortunate than him, though Annikin had found out that he was less than truthful about that. Sebulba enjoyed a decadent lifestyle unlike most Dugs, and had his own Twi’lek slave sisters. He often used his fame as a racer to make cheap deals with female Dugs, and he also had his hand in numerous slave rings.

Dressed in his finest attire, Sebulba generally chose to look his best for races as a means of impressing people around him, particularly the common people whom he truthfully despised. He had come to believe that poverty was another word for laziness, despite his lazy lifestyle brought about his winnings that he sometimes stopped at nothing to achieve. This included modifying his swoop racer with some illegal systems, such as nail guns and flamethrowers.

“Dopo mee gusha, peedunkey?” Sebulba asked in his overly aggressive and belligerent tone. “Dopo mee?”

“I don’t need luck against you, four legs,” Annikin said spitefully, “so why don’t you get the hell outta here and let us finish our work.”

Sebulba laughed maniacally and walked off, followed soon after by Kitster who made his way to the booth reserved for Annikin’s supporters. As Annikin stepped into the air speeder to move it out of the way, Sarus approached from behind a nearby rock face. He had watched as Sebulba tampered with Annikin’s stabilizer, and after only a few moments he was able to wedge it back into place. Before leaving the area, however, Sarus looked around to make sure no one was watching. When he was sure that there was no one, he quickly and quietly made his way to Sebulba’s racer and performed the same act of sabotage on Sebulba’s racer as the Dug had done to Annikin’s.

Normally, Sarus would feel remorse for putting someone’s life into danger, but he had two rationales for this particularly scenario. For starters, Sebulba had the advantage of skill derived from years, and he had done the same thing to Annikin’s speeder first. Second, though, was that he believed with all his heart that Annikin was the Chosen One of prophecy. He was not prepared to sacrifice the salvation of an entire galaxy simply so the life of one Dug would not be put into jeopardy. He had invested too much in Annikin’s destiny to not see his part through, and hundreds of others had also taken part in the build up to the upcoming moment of judgment. Sarus would not let their efforts be in vein.

Turning back around, he saw Annikin approaching so he quickly moved away from the racer. Annikin was pushing his own swoop racer up to the starting point, and because his head was down he did not see Sarus initially. When he parked his speeder, albeit leaving the repulsor lift on, he looked up and saw Sarus, curious as to what he was doing on the starting line though he had no suspicions of ill-intent from the Ophuchi tribal leader.

“What are you doing over here?” Annikin asked.

“Waiting for you,” Sarus said in what was essentially a half truth. “I wanted to wish you luck in private, though I’m sure you won’t need any.”

“Yeah, I wish,” Annikin said with a slight laugh.

“I mean it, Annikin,” Sarus told him reassuringly. “I have every faith in your ability to win this race today.”

“Thanks,” Annikin said graciously.

Annikin was somewhat surprised at how reassuring Sarus was. Though they only knew one another for a short time, Annikin felt that he could trust him completely because of Sarus’s beliefs in the Chosen One. Just a few days earlier, the Ophuchi were nothing more than the crazy old wizards of local urban legend to him, but he was glad to see that they were proven wrong. He was glad to see that he himself was proven wrong about them.

With his speeder in place, Annikin and Sarus walked over to the small, yet private, building that the others were standing outside of. There were two of them, one for those that came with Annikin and the other for Jabba’s men and a few select people Sebulba had brought. The buildings were built into the canyon wall, so the back wall of the building’s interior was the mountain. They were built out of simple cement frames and had no covers over the door and window holes. They were built merely for shelter from the scorching suns and a place for onlookers to watch the race proceed on a monitor, as the racers would quickly get too far away to be able to watch the entire thing with the naked eye.

Standing next to Obi-Wan was Dooku, who Annikin could tell did not want to be there. He had overheard them talking the night before and recognized that Dooku felt that helping Annikin was a waste of time, considering the war that was taking place on Utapau, and while Obi-Wan was not able to convince him otherwise he was able to force him to back down from his insults. When Dooku saw Annikin approach, he immediately turned and went inside the shelter, though at that point Annikin could not have cared less about what the Jedi Master thought. Annikin needed to win and he did not need Dooku’s blessing to do it.

What surprised Annikin was the fact that Owen and his parents had arrived to watch him. He had not expected them to be there considering his mother’s feelings on swoop racing, and he had not seem them arrive either. Regardless, he ran up and gave his mother a hug, thankful that they had come to see him in what would hopefully be a triumph over his adversary.

“Mom? Dad?” Annikin asked in surprise. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“We weren’t,” Cliegg told him before pointing to Shmi, “or at least she wasn’t.”

“Even though you know how I hate these awful races,” Shmi said, beaming with pride in her son, “your father convinced us to come and support you.”

“Well, it means a lot,” Annikin told them.

Cliegg reached out his hand and Annikin shook it before his mother gave him a hug once again. Shmi had been through so much with Annikin and had raised him for so long that she did not want to see his life thrown away in a swoop racing accident. Even so, she knew that he deserved a better life than the one that fate had given him, so she had no choice but to support the decision even if that meant not fully approving of it.

“Stay safe,” she said while still hugging him tightly.

“I will, Mom,” Annikin told her.

As Shmi let him go and went inside with Cliegg, Owen also began to turn to go with them, though Annikin felt the need to stop him. He did not know what his stepbrother felt about the situation, nor did he know how he felt about Annikin leaving. Owen’s feelings were generally closed to emotions other than anger and Annikin had yet to see any of that from him in regards to the race, though he had to know whether or not he was misjudging Owen.

“Owen, wait,” Annikin said, causing his stepbrother to stop and turn back around. “Did you really come here to support me or did you just come to watch me fail?”

Owen was honestly taken aback by the question, as he did not expect Annikin to be so upfront about it. He knew that his younger stepbrother would likely question his motives for being there, but it was how Annikin questioned him that was surprising. Only a few days earlier, Annikin would not have been so blunt about it. It was as if the outsiders had changed him, and in Owen’s mind it was none at all for the better.

“I’d have nothing against you trying to find a better life if that’s what you honestly wanted,” Owen told him hesitantly. “I’d probably resent it but I’d accept it, but you’re getting caught up in a war that has nothing to do with any of us.”

“I’m not getting ‘caught up’ in anything,” Annikin said. “This is my choice.”

“They’ve twisted your mind with thoughts of being a savior,” Owen told him forcefully, taking him off to the side of the building as he said it so their parents would not overhear them. “You shouldn’t be involving yourself in this damn fool’s idealistic crusade like this. They’re just going to get you killed.”

“I don’t believe that,” Annikin said, shaking his head at Owen’s remarks.

“I know,” Owen told him, his voice making it sound almost as if he was sad and feared for his stepbrother’s life. “That’s the problem.”

Owen left for the building to be with the others, leaving Annikin to reflect on what he had said. It was strange that Owen seemed somewhat sad, though he did not know if Owen was sad that Annikin could be leaving or if he was simply sad that he was not taking his advice. Either way, Annikin felt that he would never know. Owen was not the type of person to open up about his feelings, least of all to him.

A warning whistle sounded, signaling that the race was about to begin. As Annikin walked back over to his racer, Obi-Wan met up with him and walked the rest of the way. The Jedi Knight had every bit of confidence in the young man, and because he believed in fate he knew that if Annikin lost then it would more than likely prove that he was not the Chosen One. Even with such thoughts, Obi-Wan felt that the Force was preparing a victory for the young man.

“I assume you heard what he said?” Annikin asked almost regretfully.

“Most of it,” Obi-Wan said with a reassuring smile, “but don’t worry about him. You’re doing the right thing, and if everything we’ve found out is true then you’re going to save a lot of people in your life.”

As Obi-Wan spoke, Annikin listened and watched as Sebulba arrived at his racer. The Dug sat down in his seat, and gave him a cocky grin. Sebulba was convinced that he was going to win as he still believed that what he had done to Annikin’s racer was in place, and little did he knew that Sarus had damaged his own. Annikin, on the other hand, did not know about either of the racers.

“That’s what I keep telling myself,” Annikin said as he turned back to the Jedi Knight.

As a sign of his trust in Annikin, Obi-Wan extended his hand. Annikin was hesitant at first to take it because he still was not sure if he had faith enough in himself to win, but he took Obi-Wan’s hand and shook it. It was a sign of trust and a newly born friendship that they both hoped would continue for many years to come. As Obi-Wan took his hand, he could only hope that if the council agreed to accept Annikin for training that they would allow him to train the young Padawan.

Though he was not all that much older than him, Obi-Wan felt that they would be able to work well together and that he would be able to successfully train Annikin to be a great Jedi Knight. If he was the Chosen One then it was likely that the council would want someone more experienced such as Master Yoda or Master Windy to train him, but Obi-Wan felt he could do just as well as them, if not better, due to his already growing friendship with Annikin.

At that point, though, it was simply wishful and hopeful thinking. Annikin first had to win the race and his freedom, and they all had to survive through the crisis on Utapau if they were to return. Not wanting to keep Annikin from his race, as he knew that Bib Fortuna would use any excuse, including lateness, to force Annikin out of the race, Obi-Wan pulled back his hand and stepped back, preparing to return to the building with the others to watch the race.

“I would ask the Force to be with you, Annikin,” Obi-Wan said with a smirk, “but I have a very good feeling that it already is.”

Turning to walk back to the building, Obi-Wan sincerely hoped that he was not lying. Annikin also hoped that the Jedi Knight was correct. The faith that Sarus and Obi-Wan had in him helped Annikin to have more faith in himself, but his mind continued to naturally ask whether or not it was blind faith brought about in the hope that Annikin was a galactic savior. Even if it was, it still helped Annikin feel more confident about himself, and that confidence was something that he desperately required at that moment.

Obi-Wan stepped into the spectator building. There was no décor to it, but rather it was a simple gray building made from cement built into the rock face. On the top of the ceiling, though, was a large screen that would track the entire race. Video recorders were set up throughout that area of the canyon and they were mainly used to track racers that broke any local laws, but they were also used in cases such as the one they found themselves in with Annikin racing Sebulba.

Standing up against the wall were Shmi and Cliegg, looking upwards at the screen while waiting for the race to begin. Obi-Wan could tell that they were very nervous about Annikin’s safety as he walked towards them, and truth be told he was nervous as well. He had seen first hand on a few other worlds how dangerous swoop racing could be, so he hoped that the fates of some unfortunate racers would not be Annikin’s fate due to a miscalculation or foul-play.

“Is he nervous?” Shmi asked when she saw Obi-Wan arrive.

“He’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan told her reassuringly. “Trust me.”

“Master Kenobi,” Cliegg said, almost as if he was unsure as to how to continue, “whatever happens today, I just want to say thank you. Both Annikin and Owen deserve better lives, and we’re very grateful that you’ve given Annikin this opportunity.”

“It’s been an honor, Mr. Lars,” Obi-Wan said with a slight nod.

Obi-Wan turned around to see Dooku and Sarus standing against the uncovered windows, not saying a word to one another. It was clear to him that Dooku did not care that much for Sarus based on the beliefs that contradicted those of mainstream Jedi Knights, and it was also evident that Sarus did not care enough about what others thought to hold any sort of argument with the Jedi Master. The strange and almost uncomfortable silence was what defined the relationship between the two of them, and Obi-Wan was able to pick up on it as soon as he spotted them and walked up behind them.

“I will assume that it would be a waste of breath to tell you that I do not approve of this,” Dooku told him coldly, “nor would it be of any use to tell you that we are wasting time better spent on solving the crisis on Utapau?”

“You’re right,” Obi-Wan said, returning the cold statement. “It would very much be a waste of your time and breath.”

Sarus held back his laughter at the brief exchange, realizing that it would more than likely provoke Dooku into some sort of irritated tirade. Sarus felt that he had received his fair share of arguing from the Jedi Master and wished to avoid it from that point forward, though if all went according to the plan that he had been given then Dooku would soon be gone after Annikin won the race.

“Where are the others?” Obi-Wan asked Sarus curiously. “I thought they were going to join us here before the race began.”

“Queen Arcadia took Jar and Captain Panaka into one of the nearby settlements,” Sarus told him. “She said they had something that they needed to take care of, though she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

Curious was the only word to come to Obi-Wan’s mind. He could not figure out what the queen would need to take care of in any of the nearby settlements, though he was not going to question her intentions unless there was a risk involved. With Captain Panaka and Jar with her, he did not feel that there was any sort of risk so that gave him a sense of comfort that he needed in such situations. Even if he was to become worried, he did not have time for it. The race was about to begin.

On the starting line, Annikin was adjusting himself in his seat. Though the race would only be only two or three minutes long, as they were simply looping around one canyon wall before crossing the starting line once again, he felt that being comfortable had always helped him in the past. When he finally found the right spot, he looked over at Sebulba who was grinning maniacally. Annikin wished he could have been in such a position, though he had not won nearly enough to even consider it. Sebulba, on the other hand, had won more races than he should have and felt the need to remind people that on every occasion possible.

Annikin turned away from Sebulba when the countdown began on the large screen in front of them. It counted down from ten in Aurebesh, the written variant of Galactic Basic Standard, and with each number Annikin felt as if his heart was skipping a beat. Sweat poured down his brow and his back and he felt more fear than he ever had before, but he tried to cast it aside until the count went down to zero.

And then it began.

The young racer thrust his controls forward and expected that his racer would shoot forwards, though his only lurched forward while Sebulba shot out into an easy lead and possibly an easy victory. Annikin frantically looked around the racer and found that the port stabilizer was not properly adjusted, and with one simple adjustment the problem was corrected and he also shot across the starting line, though at that point he could not imagine how it would matter. He was already far behind and it was as if he would never be able to regain that ground in such a short period of time.

Annikin chased after his Dug opponent with a fierce determination, not wanting to allow himself to lose because of such a poor mechanical reason. He had no idea how the stabilizer had been knocked lose and at that point he frankly did not care. He simply kept his mind on the race as he tore across the desert sands.

The speeds of the racer was incredible, even to him. As the whine of the racer became sharper and sharper as the speeds increased, he accelerated quickly enough to where everything seemed like a blur. Annikin imagined that it was somewhat like watching the stars while traveling through hyperspace, something that Annikin hoped to experience by the end of the day.

Even with his poor start, Annikin could not ignore the excitement that he felt. His adrenaline was pumping faster than he had ever felt it and he was truly having good and fun time. He kept his thoughts off losing and instead kept a strong focus on winning, because at that point he felt that thinking about losing would only lead to an actual loss.

Annikin was surprised that he was catching up to the Dug. He had expected that he would not see him again until they crossed the finish line, though obviously Sebulba had gotten cocky and assumed that Annikin would not catch him. When he realized his error, Sebulba increased his speed but Annikin continued to match it and even gain back much of the ground he had lost. He had made no special modifications to his racer so it was puzzling that Sebulba did not have a commanding lead, though he was not about to break focus to try to figure it out.

Ahead of them was a large cave they would be forced to enter into. It was one that racers tended to avoid as it was a dead end, which meant that they would have to turn around inside of it with very little room. One miscalculation could lead to an accident and their likely deaths, so it was something that both Annikin and Sebulba were remaining ever cognizant of.

Slowing down somewhat to try to decrease their chances at an accident, Sebulba and Annikin entered the cave, though Sebulba still was in the lead. Knowing how risky it was though not caring at that moment, Annikin changed his mind and increased his speed, making it even more likely that he would be forced into an accident, but he knew that if he was able to make it out alive then he would likely be neck and neck with the Dug.

There was a wall in the center of the cave, forcing the two racers to each take separate tunnels through it. Annikin, who took the tunnel to his right, underestimated how deep the cave was and it became increasingly darker as his six-hundred kilometer per hour engine took him away from the entrance, so he was forced to activate his external lightning and push through the cave without knowing what types of danger lied ahead.

Annikin’s racer continued accelerating. He knew he was not properly weighing the risks of such maneuvers, but even though he agreed before that his life was worth more than a race he no longer cared. He was determined to win not only to be freed but to prove to the doubters that he could win. Most of all, he wanted to prove to Dooku that he could win. He did not really care if the Jedi Master liked him or not, because he did not like him all that much either, but he at least wanted to get some respect from him if he was going to travel with them all the way to Coruscant.

The cavern continued on for nearly three kilometers. Annikin could not see the end with his naked eye because of the darkness of the caves, but he knew it was fast approaching when a warning light went off on his control panel. He quickly shut it off though he did not slow down, refusing to give anymore ground to Sebulba. Instead, he swung violently to his left and just missed the cave wall.

Rounding the wall that separated the two tunnels, Annikin saw Sebulba approaching towards him. The Dug was surprised that Annikin had managed to catch up, so to try to scare him off course he chose not to move out of the way until the last moment. Instead, he accelerated towards him, which Annikin did not back down from. He knew exactly what Sebulba was doing and knew full well that he would not allow them to crash into one another, so he kept his course.

At the last moment, both racers veered off in opposite sides to avoid hitting one another. Annikin could hear a barely audible scream of defiance from the Dug, but he ignored it. He could not have cared less what Sebulba had to say that point. He was determined to finish as quickly as possible.

That determination nearly caused his death. As he briefly turned around to see whether or not Sebulba had made the turn into the other tunnel yet, Annikin neglected the fact that he too had to quickly veer to the left and head down his own tunnel. His warning lights began to flash once again, and by the time he turned around it was nearly two late. Still refusing to slow down, he quickly gripped the starboard thrusters he had installed and activated them as he turned, allowing him to miss the wall.

He made his way back through the tunnel. It was far more dangerous than the first one he had gone through. He was forced to activated his longer-range sensors as he traveled through it, which allowed him to pass over and under rocks and ledges that had grown out of the caves. It was more tedious than the relatively straight flying he had managed to achieve during his first go around in the cave, but he at least made it through in one piece.

Annikin and Sebulba shot out of the cave at relatively the same time, though Sebulba was about a second ahead. Annikin was able to press forward and force them into a tie, though Sebulba did not take kindly to the close race. He tried to force his own racer into Annikin’s to knock it to the side, but rather than letting him Annikin kept turning off to the side.

Sebulba’s maneuvers eventually led the two racers off course. Now more out in the open, Sebulba tried to regain his lead by exploiting the more open environment, though it would not last long. The canyon walls were quickly approaching and one of them would be forced to make a decision, though neither of them wanted to make the only decision they could.

Eventually it did not matter. Annikin and Sebulba both took notice of an old acceleration platform that had been there for a few years. They were frequently used in the old style of swoop racers thousands of years earlier and they were constantly repaired by those in Anchorhead, as they enjoyed the thrill that came from accelerating on them. Luckily for Annikin and Sebulba, the one ahead of them was one of the ones that received frequent maintenance.

Both racers fought for the lead, each of them wanting to reach the pad first. Though it would matter very little considering they would both accelerate at incredible rates, it would still put whoever got onto first in the lead. Both of them pushed their engines as fast as they could go towards them, and Annikin was able to pull ahead ever so slightly and hit the pad first.

The force of the acceleration thrust Annikin back in his seat, momentarily increasing his speed to nearly eight hundred kilometers per hour. Annikin had never gone that fast before and there was a huge adrenaline rush involved, so he could easily understand why many of the racers insisted on keeping the pads working.

When his speed finally returned to normal, Annikin had shot into the more confined space between the canyon walls once more. Sebulba was directly behind him and was managing to accelerate, eventually coming up right next to him. Sebulba tried once again to force Annikin into the canyon wall, but Annikin forced him right back.

Finally, the Dug’s racer actually impacted with Annikin’s and the steering rods outside of the engines became tangled together. Sebulba had not intended to have it result in that, but there was little he could do that that point. Locked together, they were quickly approaching the finish line. More so than Sebulba, Annikin could not afford a tie. Even if he did not lose, the agreement was that he would have to beat Sebulba in order to win his freedom.

Sebulba acted as if he had nothing to lose. He laughed sadistically once more, jamming his racer into Annikin’s over and over in his continued attempt to either force Annikin to the ground or into the wall. It was dangerous to him, but was confident that he would be able to cross the finish line even if his racer became damaged in Annikin’s fall.

Annikin refused to let that happen. He whipped his thruster bars over and over in an attempt to break free of the Dug’s racer, and that was when he saw his ticket off of Tatooine. Sebulba’s right stabilizer had been damaged much like Annikin’s had been, and the younger racer felt that he would be able to exploit it to his own end. Trying in one final effort to break free, Annikin thrust his right engine downward and his left engine upward over and over.

This continued act finally broke their steering rods, and in the process knocked Sebulba’s stabilizer off of his racer completely. Annikin jerked in his seat and a cable swung lose above him with a speed that could have easily taken off his head had it been lower, and the racer lurched forward with such an intensity that it nearly threw Annikin from his seat. Even so, he managed to continue forward, albeit at a slower speed than what he had been used to.

Sebulba did not fair better. When the stabilizer was knocked off and Annikin broke free, Sebulba’s right engine smashed into the ground and spun in place at an intense speed. As it spun, it eventually broke the engine off and sent the rest of the racer flying through the air. It landed on the ground nearly a quarter of a kilometer later, and as the engine exploded into a massive fireball the remaining part of the craft skid to a halt, violently bumping up and down on the desert floor.

Sebulba coughed as the smoke overtook him. He could barely see anything, but he whipped his hands in all directions while trying to clear the smoke. When it finally cleared, he saw Annikin quickly approaching the finish line. The Dug screamed into the air and started to tear apart the inside of his racer, violently throwing pieces of it in all directions as he realized that there was nothing he could do to win the race. Even cheating would not be able to help him at that point.

Free of the Dug, Annikin shot towards the finish line. As it approached, he began to decelerate so he would not overshoot the buildings where the others were watching. He felt the rush of excitement when he realized that Sebulba had no chance of winning the race, and the victory felt amazing. Had it been anyone else who might have been injured, as Annikin had no idea whether or not Sebulba was alive, the victory might have seemed bittersweet, but he was not prepared to grant Sebulba that respect.

Finally, after putting so much effort into those few minutes of racing, Annikin crossed over the finish line. As he turned before heading deeper into the canyon and then finally slowed to a halt, he threw back his head in relief. Then, he realized the implications of his victory. He had not actually taken the time in that brief moment to remember the most important part. Instead, he was focused on the fact that he had beaten Sebulba, and trying to picture what Bib’s face looked like, but then he realized just what that feeling of joy and excitement was.

For the first time in his life, he felt what it was like to be a truly free man.

Chapter 15: Destiny
From the moment he crossed the finish line, Annikin realized that his life would never be the same. He blocked out every other sound and every other thought, focusing only on the fact that he had just secured his freedom from the contract. He knew full well that he could have easily been killed during the race, but that was a risk he had decided was worth taking. Had he simply tried to leave and not become free from the contract, his family would have had to pay the price and he was not prepared to put them through that. It was the only way and he had an immense feeling of pride because of his success.

He could barely move because of the overwhelming sensation of joy that had overtaken him. He sat in his racer with his head leaning back over the top of the seat, waiting for the adrenaline rush to end so he could calm himself. When it did, he looked back up to see the Jedi and his family walking towards him, as well as Sarus. All of them but Dooku and Owen were beaming with pride, though even they could not help but show off a faint smile when they saw him do something that they had assumed was impossible.

Annikin jumped out of his racer and landed his feet in the sand. As soon as he was standing straight, Shmi latched onto him, tightly embracing him. Annikin had no reason to even look down to see her face, knowing already that she too was beaming with pride in her son. Annikin took one hand away from the embrace and used it to shake Cliegg’s hand after the aging farmer reached out for him to do so. Even Owen gave him a congratulatory nod, though he did it from behind the others so no one else would see him.

“Alright, alright,” Annikin finally said as Shmi kissed him on the cheek.

“It’s just so wonderful, Annikin,” Shmi told him, pulling back from her embrace of her son. “This will bring hope to those that have none. I’m so very proud of you.”

In the back, Obi-Wan looked at Dooku with a slightly sarcastic smile and expression. Though he tried to ignore it, Dooku knew that his former padawan had proven him wrong. Dooku had told him flat out that he did not approve of staying for the race, as well as the fact that he thought they were wasting time. Not only that, but Dooku had also said in the beginning that he did not sense anything remotely special in Annikin that was worth spending time on, and, while he still did not believe that the Prophecy of the Chosen One could be fulfilled, he did realize that Annikin could possibly have potential in a technical and hands-on profession. Unfortunately for Annikin and Obi-Wan, Dooku did not believe that he was worthy of being a Jedi Knight just because he won a race.

Obi-Wan stepped past Cliegg and Shmi to approach Annikin, and when he stopped in front of him he stuck out his hand. Annikin shook it and they briefly paused, reflecting on the friendship that was building between them. Overcome with a sense of joy, they quickly gave each other a hug. Both of them were cognizant of the fact that they would likely remain friends for a very long time if the Jedi Council accepted what they would tell them on Coruscant, and, if everything went as Obi-Wan hoped, he would be Annikin’s master as well.

Sarus watched as Obi-Wan grabbed Annikin’s arm and raised it into the air, declaring him the champion of the race. Slipping away from the festivities, something that he had never enjoyed unless it was a traditional Ophuchi ceremony, Sarus hesitantly walked towards the building that housed Bib Fortuna during the race. The hermit knew full well that the Twi’lek would be angry that Annikin won, especially because of how angry Jabba would be when he found out. Hutts were not accustomed to losing, especially when what was lost was something they considered to be their property. Although sharecroppers on Tatooine were not slaves by definition, it was as close as one could have come to being one.

Sarus took another look back towards Annikin and the others, watching as they began to joyously move the racer towards the flatbed on the back of their land speeder. He never understood the brief celebrations that some people would take part in after winning something, particularly the simple raising of the hand to declare the champion. He had become accustomed to more elaborate ceremonies to signify something. He frequently led those in the Ophuchi Sanctuary for many different occasions, some of which he had revised himself, as it was his right to do so as the leader of the Ophuchi.

There were various different ceremonies that he had led during his time as leader, all of which were fairly elaborate. During wedding ceremonies, he would marry the man and woman and oversee them in the mingling of their blood after their palms were cut with a ceremonial blade. On numerous occasions, those same two people would be before him again during a birth ceremony where they would be able to welcome a new Ophuchi into their sanctuary. That ceremony was one of Sarus’s favorites, as he would be the one to deliver the child, or in some cases children, which to him meant that he was the first to bring them into a life of enlightenment. There were also many simple worship ceremonies where they would give thanks to their prophet and to the higher power.

As he collected his thoughts, Sarus stepped into the building and was immediately stopped by a pair of large Gamorrean guards. He had not expected to see them as he had no idea that they had been there, so he was taken aback when their large scythes were forcefully thrust towards him, stopping just short of hitting him in the face. Bib abruptly turned when he heard the commotion, and his eyes were seemingly exploding with anger and hatred.

That was all perfectly justifiable in the Twi’lek’s mind. He could only imagine how angry Jabba would be when he gave him the news of Sebulba’s loss, but that was not the worst of it. A Rodian, Greedo, had approached him about bets on the race when he heard about it and naturally assumed Sebulba would win. He was collecting bets on the race and Bib put in nearly fifty thousand of Jabba’s credits on Sebulba, as he never could have imagined that the Dug would lose. Bib was only able to assume that Jabba would not be pleased when he heard about it.

Bib slammed his fist onto a control panel to shut off the screen above them while motioning for the guards to close the door. Sarus was shoved towards him, but he was able to stop himself from tripping over his own feet. As he regained his posture, he realized that the accommodations in that building were better than the one he and the others were in. There was an air conditioning system in place and there were comfortable seats in front of the screen. It came as no surprise to Sarus that Bib and his men put him and the others in what could be compared to a shack while they took the more relaxing venue for themselves.

“Hi chuba da naga?” Bib asked in a clearly agitated tone of voice.

“I’m here to ensure that you release young Skywalker from the Lars contract,” Sarus calmly told him, not wanting to upset the minion further.

“Cha skrunee da pat,” Bib said forcefully.

“I would,” Sarus told him with an equal amount of force. “You made a fair bet.”

“No!” Bib shouted loudly, prompting even his green skinned guards to be taken aback by his childish display of frustration.

“Would you prefer it if I took this up with the Hutts?” Sarus asked with a slight wave of his hand, placing a telepathic suggestion into the Twi’lek’s mind. “They may be disappointed in the loss, but their laws still dictate that you must honor the bet.”

Sarus knew the benefits of mentioning the Hutts in certain situations better than he cared to. Nearly ten years earlier, the Rodian slaver Ledo, who also had a hand in the pazaak games, captured a young Ophuchi girl named Reahana. Knowing he had to get the young girl back from the Rodian, Sarus made a wager with him during the grand pazaak tournament held every year where if Sarus’s choice in players won, the girl would be released. The player Sarus bet on won the tournament, but Ledo refused to honor the bet.

Not knowing where else to turn, Sarus assumed the role of Reahana’s father and spoke to Gardula the Hutt on her behalf. Gardula ordered the girl to be released per the bet that was made, but rather than releasing her and admitting defeat Ledo murdered Reahana. Sarus returned to the Hutts to demand some sort of punishment, hoping it would be in the form of an arrest. Instead, Gardula had Ledo murdered for his two crimes.

Based on Bib’s reaction to his comment, Sarus could only assume that Bib recognized the consequences of dealing with the Hutts and not living up to his end of the bargain. Though he was on the verge of lashing out at the Ophuchi leader, Bib took out a new contract from a case up against the wall, a document that he had made up just for the sake of formalities, as he had no idea that Sebulba could actually have lost. Signing it, he threw it at Sarus who promptly caught it.

“Kung!” the Twi’lek shouted.

“Coming from you,” Sarus said wryly with a smile, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Bib fumed at Sarus’s comment as the Ophuchi leader left, though Sarus could not have cared less. He took one last look at the Twi’lek, and as he turned around he hoped to the Force that he would never have to lay eyes on such a scumbag again. Walking back towards the air speeder, which Annikin and the others had finished loading the racer onto, Sarus carefully tucked the new contract under his robes, not wanting anyone to try to take it from him until they returned to the homestead.

On the ridge overlooking the swoop track, Maul watched with an astounding sense of infinite patience. He immediately noticed Sarus and recognized him instantly as a man he had fought long ago in the desert sands of the very same planet, and for that reason he could only assume that the young man that had been with him was the child he had once been sent to kill in the name of his master. His master, however, had a different plan, one that required a more patient and sinister touch. As Maul stepped onto his small speeder bike and sped off, he knew what he needed to do to carry forth his orders.

Only an hour after they returned to the homestead, Sarus was already preparing to leave. There was little more he could do for Annikin at that point, and he needed new orders so he would be able to proceed with the next part of his role in Annikin’s destiny, whatever that new role was. The one who told him what he needed to do was not the type of person to divulge a great deal of information upfront, so there were many times over the last two decades where Sarus felt that he had been left in the dark. Luckily, he had known exactly what he needed to do up to that point in time.

He had already given the new contract to Cliegg and said goodbye to him, though there was very little for them to say to one another, as they hardly knew each other. He had tried to say his farewells to Shmi and wish her all of life’s blessings, though she was not comfortable speaking to him. In all honesty, he could not blame her. The reasons they knew each other were strange and most likely troubling for her, so he accepted that she did not wish to speak with him and had gone back outside, where the others had assembled to wait for him. Only Annikin was not there, as he was putting away his racer, though Sarus would speak to him later.

Looking at the assembled group, he reflected on their time together. Sarus had learned a great deal from each of them, and in turn he hoped that he was able to impart something onto them as well. He had been a teacher of sorts for his entire adult life, so giving others knowledge was something he always strived for. He knew that it was likely he had reached most of them, though there were always the ones that refused to open their eyes.

In that case, that one was Dooku. Sarus found him to be the most interesting member of the group of outsiders, mainly because of his arrogant and closed-minded nature. He had heard that many senior Jedi were not open to change within the Order, but he had not realized that there were those that would not even acknowledge the fact that many of the truths they clung to were misleading or, in some cases, entirely incorrect. Nevertheless, as he stood in front of the Jedi Master, he nodded his head in respect.

“I know we never saw eye to eye, Master Dooku,” Sarus said as he raised his head back up to look Dooku in the eye, “but it was interesting seeing another perspective on my beliefs.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Dooku said, his voice and expressions both cold, giving off absolutely no interest in Sarus or anything he had said over the previous few days they were together.

“Of course,” Sarus said with a smile, brushing off the insult.

Sarus turned to his right where Arcadia was standing. He knew he had insulted her during the feast at the sanctuary just two days earlier, and although he had apologized for it he still did not feel right about it. Regardless, he had hoped he had made amends and he could tell that the advice he gave her about Nute Gunray was taken to heart, so it was his wish that she used that advice well, because he knew it could potentially save her and all of Utapau.

Arcadia was the type of person that completely dedicated herself to her people, which was something that Sarus instantly picked up on in their initial argument. He could sense very quickly the guilt she had over leaving Utapau and her people, though he also could sense the conflict that presented itself when she realized that she could do a great deal on Coruscant to help. Her curiosity was also a highly admirable trait. Sarus had never met someone of such importance who would willingly walk into the desert without guards based on the request of a complete soldier, especially one who had been labeled as a crazy wizard. He doubted that he would ever meet such a leader again.

“Your Highness,” Sarus said with a slight bow of his head, “it’s been an honor. I hope the advice I gave you will be put to good use.”

“So do I,” she said with a smile, “but the honor was all mine. Thank you.”

The queen moved in closer, and to Sarus’s surprise she hugged him. She was very thankful for what he had told her about Gunray and she hoped that he was right, and she knew it was very likely that he was. It was not hard for her to imagine the Viceroy as someone who could be easily deceived, especially after what he had done to rape her planet of its innocence.

As Arcadia let him go, Sarus stuck out his hand and shook Jar’s. He knew that he had overwhelmed the Gungan with the prospects of the Rana Hama, and Sarus had to admit that even he did not know much about the prophecy or whether or not Jar would be the one to fulfill it. All he knew was that the former Crowned Prince of the Gungan Empire fit the profile of what the Ophuchi believed the Rana Hama would be.

While Jar shook Sarus’s hand, he was at a loss for words. Jar had somewhat accepted the fact that he was an exile, but after Sarus told him about the cave paintings with the exiled monarch avenging his people, the Gungan had felt somewhat more confident. That confidence surged when he heard the report about Gungan leaders aiding the Trade Federation, and, since then, he knew that he would have to do something once they returned to Utapau.

Finally having made his way through most of the group, Sarus turned towards Obi-Wan. The Jedi Knight was someone that Sarus greatly respected, as well as someone he believed he could consider a friend, even after knowing each other for just a few short days. It was interesting to him that someone as closed minded as Dooku was able to train such an open minded person like Obi-Wan, though there were many mysteries within the Jedi Order that Sarus would never understand.

Although it had seemed likely to begin with, it was the open mindedness Obi-Wan showed that solidified Sarus’s belief that the Jedi Knight was the Argus spoken of in legend, as well as the reason that he chose to share the circumstances surrounding Annikin’s birth with him. While Sarus thought that Obi-Wan was clearly a competent Jedi Knight, he could only hope that he would properly be able to guide the Chosen One as the prophecies said he would.

Had it not been for Obi-Wan, Sarus felt it was possible that he would have given up hope in the arrival of the Argus, despite what he had been told by the higher ones. At times, he knew all too well, hope died out and needed to be reborn from the inspiring spark of another. Obi-Wan provided that spark when he began to take on his destiny and led Annikin to him, and for that, Sarus had cause to think with deep gratitude for those who would help light the way towards the balance of the great universal power that warmly embraced all life.

“Take care of him, Obi-Wan,” Sarus said, shaking the Jedi Knights hand. “If he is the Chosen One, then he’s owed at least that much.”

“I will watch over him as long as I can,” Obi-Wan told him. “For that, you have my word.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Sarus said, taking back his hand.

Obi-Wan nodded in respect, grateful for everything that Sarus had done. He would always cherish the wisdom imparted onto him by the Ophuchi leader and he felt that it would serve him well. The Jedi Council would certainly find the prophecies and lore of the Ophuchi Clan interesting, though that was not the difficult part. Obi-Wan knew that it would take a great deal of convincing for such a closed-minded group of people to believe in the prophecy.

While he hated to admit it, it was very likely that many of them would have the same reaction that Dooku did, particularly when it came to the sacrifices made by ancient Jedi such as Alsius Hoth and Valenthyne Farfala. Others, however, would hold a great deal of sway, particularly Qui-Gon Jinn. Whether or not that would be enough to convince the other eleven members of the Jedi Council was yet to be revealed, though Obi-Wan felt confident that some of them would see what he believed to be the truth, in what Sarus told them.

Sarus took one final look at the assembled group, and as they started to break away he turned and made his way down a flight of stairs into the garage. He looked around to try to talk to Annikin, though all he saw was Kitster and Threepio working diligently at a workbench in the corner of the garage. Though he could not see what they were specifically doing, it appeared to him that they were working on a part to Annikin’s racer, though why that mattered at that point was beyond him.

Even though Annikin was leaving, all three of them had agreed to try to at least clean up the swoop racer somewhat. That way, the family would be able to sell it for extra money if they felt that they needed it, which they all assumed they would. It was possible that Jabba the Hutt and his men would try to punish the Lars family in some way for Annikin’s victory, so any spare credit was helpful at that point. It was possible that Sarus’s upbringing prevented him from seeing that, as he and his people had no use for credits or any sort of economic system.

“Annikin?” Sarus called out, prompting Annikin to jump out from behind the racer in what seemed to be a moment of panic.

“Sorry,” Annikin said with a laugh to brush off the fact that he was startled. “You scared me for a second. I thought you might’ve been someone else with a bone to pick because of the race.”

After the race was over, Kitster had gone back into Anchorhead for an hour or so to check on what people were saying. There were people who were happy to see Sebulba finally lose and wreck his racer, and one person even shouted that he had wished the Dug had died during the crash. Kitster would not have gone that far, though he was pleased to see Sebulba lose. Others were less than thrilled, many of them having lost a great deal of money on the race. How they had found out about the race ahead of time was a mystery to him, though he could only assume that Bib Fortuna had privately spread the word hoping to make money.

Only one disgruntled gambler had actually made the trip to the homestead to actually state his grievances with Annikin. That person was Greedo, which Annikin thought was ironic, considering all the times the Rodian had hassled him about his own unpaid debt. Greedo had been told by the Twi’lek about the race, and because Sebulba was the odds-on favorite Greedo decided to take advantage of that, much like other bookies undoubtedly did, since they had been told about it ahead of time.

At first, Greedo only took other people’s bets, considering that’s what his job entitled him to do. When he saw the cash flow coming in, greed got the best of him and he bet on the race, though he bet on Sebulba. The Rodian was astonished to see that Annikin had won a victory that caused Greedo to lose a great deal of his small fortune. He nearly assaulted Annikin in the garage, though Cliegg and Owen were able to threaten him off of their property.

“What are you working on?” Sarus asked, seeing the tools in Annikin’s hand.

“My port stabilizer went out during the race,” Annikin said, kneeling down as he plunged his tool back into the wiring of the racer to continue his work. “That’s why I didn’t start at first, and I can’t figure out what happened.”

Although he considered not telling Annikin the reason why his stabilizer went out, Sarus knew that it was the right thing to do. His personal morals told him that it was not appropriate to lie; especially to the young man he believed was the savior of an entire galaxy. Therefore, he knew he had to confess to what he had done, even though he had no idea how Annikin would take the news.

“Could we have a moment alone please?” Sarus asked slightly louder than his usual tone so Kitster and Threepio could hear him, and as soon as they did they stopped what they were doing and left the garage area.

“What do you need?” Annikin asked, stepping over the racer to lean up against it after he stood back up again.

“I’ve come to take my leave of you, Annikin,” Sarus told him with a hint of sorrow, “but first I have a confession to make.”

“Okay,” Annikin said confusedly.

“Sebulba sabotaged your racer’s stabilizer before the race and I tried to fix it,” Sarus confessed slowly so Annikin could hear every word of what he had to say, “but apparently I didn’t do a good enough job. I wanted to give you an advantage, so I sabotaged his racer like he did yours.”

Annikin stood still in silence for a moment, unsure of what he had heard. When the words finally started to register within him, Annikin let go of the grip on his tool and it dropped to the ground. The sound was deafening to both of them, or so it seemed, and in the silence that soon followed they both knew that they would be able to hear the proverbial pin drop considering how little they could hear anything around them.

“You did what?” Annikin finally asked, though his tone was emotionless.

“I swore that I would do anything to help you,” Sarus reminded him. “I’m fairly certain that this falls under ‘anything’.”

Dumbfounded by how Sarus seemed to just brush off the fact that he nearly murdered someone, Annikin kicked his tool in frustration, sending it flying up against the wall behind Sarus. Annikin stepped in closer so the Ophuchi leader would be able to see in his eyes how he betrayed him, and hopefully he would actually feel sorry about what he had done to both him and Sebulba.

“How could you do this to me?” Annikin demanded to know. “I wanted to win without cheating, something Sebulba doesn’t know anything about. And what’s worse is that you could’ve killed him!”

“Wouldn’t you have wanted that?” Sarus asked, curious as to what Annikin’s response would be.

“What the hell kinda question is that?” Annikin asked in an even louder shout, offended by the fact that Sarus would even think to ask him that. “Of course I wouldn’t want that. I wouldn’t wish death on him just because he’s a scumbag!”

Sarus was pleased to hear Annikin say that. His question was a test to see how Annikin would respond, as it would help him continue to understand more about the type of person Annikin was. Luckily for Sarus and the entire galaxy, Annikin did not appear to be the type to want anyone to die. For that reason, Sarus had faith that he would always be a force for good far beyond the stars when the final Day of Judgment arrived for him.

“I trusted you, Sarus,” Annikin continued, “and you stabbed me in the back. I want you to leave right now and never come back.”

“If that is your wish,” Sarus told him, “then I will comply with it. Just know this.”

At that moment, Sarus knew that it was time to pass the burden he had endured for decades onto Annikin, as the young Jedi hopeful was the one that the burden was meant to be entrusted to. He stepped in closer and firmly placed his hand onto Annikin’s shoulder, and while Annikin tried to resist what seemed to be an iron grip, he was unable to force Sarus away from him.

“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the infinite wisdom that is your birthright,” Sarus said, forcing Annikin onto his knees and into a nearly delirious trance. “Now it is time for your eyes to see what mine have seen.”

Seemingly forcing his will onto Annikin, Sarus began a transfer of a conscious millennia old, something that would help Annikin in his destiny. Being thrust into some sort of trance like state, Annikin’s eyes momentarily became glazed with a pale white corona that almost appeared to be a comatose-like state. Sarus released his grip, though that did not stop what had already begun.

Although he was in a trance, he could still see clearly inside of his eyes. In front of him, a mesh of blue, white and purple lights swirled around. It was as if he was looking directly into the heart of a wormhole or perhaps even the center of the universe itself. It was a beautiful array of lights, and as he listened closely he could almost make out the faint sounds of distant music. The sounds were alien to him, sounding as if it was being made from strings, singing and dancing.

The lights began to flash and lightning shot out from them. The white swirling center of the display became larger until it engulfed his entire mind, and when the bright white light faded away he began having flashes of a life that was not his. He could barely see any of it, as it was all moving by so quickly. There was a baby being placed into a ship, a talking face within a yellow and purple nebula, a mass exodus of people and a kindly old man praying within a monastery.

Perhaps the most enlightening vision that Annikin saw was one that made him think of himself. For a moment, he stood looking at the setting of two twin suns, though a shadow began to cross over him. He heard the cries of people and looked down the hill he stood on, seeing the creatures below him. They were short and stubby with a chocolate brown color. Their legs were hardly seen beneath the fat of their midsections, and their long arms hung down as their oddly-wide shaped heads looked up towards the hill that Annikin stood on.

Annikin turned to see what the strange creatures were seeing, and as he looked towards the horizon the dark shadow that had begun to cast itself across them was being pushed away by a prophetic figure walking towards him. This savior emerged from between the twin suns and started to reach out for him, and Annikin in turn reached out for this savior as well.

Unfortunately for Annikin, it was in vain. Just as the figure was about to approach him and reveal his face from the shadows, the trance wore off. For a moment, he did not know where he was or what had happened to him, though as the strange sensations began to wear off he remembered what he was doing and looked back up towards Sarus was standing so he could demand to know what had happened.

Sarus, however, had already left. Annikin assumed that it was when he was in the trance, though considering how little he knew of Sarus, he knew the Ophuchi leader could have left in some other mysterious way. Either way, Annikin was glad to see him gone. He had thought he could trust him, though in the end he had been betrayed. He was sure it would not be the last time, considering the life he was about to begin.

Annikin lowered his head in confusion about what had happened, though he looked back up again as Obi-Wan walked in. Annikin made the decision then not to tell Obi-Wan what Sarus had done or what he had seen in his visions, as he knew that between the revelations of the past few days and the crisis on Utapau, the Jedi Knight already had enough to deal with. By telling him, Annikin would only be adding unneeded and unnecessary weight to his heavy shoulders.

“It’s about time we got going, Annikin,” Obi-Wan told him as Annikin stood up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Annikin said, not leading on that something strange had in fact happened to him, “I’m fine.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan told him quickly, obviously in a hurry to leave for Coruscant, “now grab your things. Everyone else has already returned to the ship.”

Annikin nodded and made his way into the hall that would take him to his room. When he stepped inside, he pulled a bag out from under his bed and quickly began looking for anything that was important to him. He took clothes, tools and a few other supplies, but he did not have much to take with him. He was a man who owned very little in life, and that magnitude of that seemed to hit him as he filled up his bag only halfway.

He nearly ran out of his room until he remembered that he had placed the Japor snippet his mother gave him, only a day earlier, on his dresser. He placed his bag down and took the snippet that hung on a chain into his hands. He rubbed his finger across it to remove the sand that it had collected, taking a moment to look at the dove in the center. Such a simple creature seemed to hold so much weight, a weight that Annikin still was not sure that he would be able to bear. Regardless, he put the chain around his neck and pushed the snippet underneath his shirt so it would be safe, not wanting to trust anyone else with such an important relic.

When he turned around, Annikin nearly ran right into Threepio and Kitster who had walked into his room a moment or so earlier. It was hard for him to say goodbye to them, as they were both his friends. Kitster had been one of his earliest childhood friends and they had gone on numerous adventures together throughout the region, sometimes even dangerous ones, in their swoop racers and T-13 Skyhoppers. And while Threepio was only a droid, Annikin saw him as another brother to him, one that he could always depend on to help him.

“Well, Threepio,” Annikin said while trying to maintain a somewhat happy tone despite the sadness that he felt over leaving his family and friends, “I guess this is it.”

“Master Annikin,” Threepio began, “you are my maker and I wish you well, but I do wish that I was a bit more completed.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you proper coverings, Threepio,” Annikin told him, “but I’ll make you a deal. Once I’m done with my Jedi training, I’ll come back here and fix you up.”

“Splendid, Master Annikin!” Threepio shouted jubilantly. “I can’t wait!”

As Threepio began to walk off joyfully because of the deal, Kitster stepped up closer to Annikin. He stuck out his hand at first, but before Annikin could take it they both knew that it would not express the meaning of their friendship. They tightly and quickly hugged one another, and as they pulled back Kitster gave Annikin a pat on the arm as he backed away.

“I know you’re going to be some big time Jedi, Annikin,” Kitster said, “but don’t forget up us simple people here, alright?”

“I won’t,” Annikin laughed. “I can promise you that.”

Kitster gave Annikin one final parting nod and left the room. Annikin also began to leave, though he stopped and turned around in the doorway to take one final look at the small corner of the homestead that he had called his home for most of his life. He knew it would be difficult leaving everything and everyone he cared about behind, but as he began making his way back up to the outside he knew that it was an opportunity that he could not pass up without regretting it for the rest of his life.

Stepping out into the light, Annikin saw Obi-Wan standing away from the family, waiting somewhat impatiently for them to say their goodbyes. To Annikin’s dismay, however, Owen was not there with them. Instead, it was only Cliegg and Shmi, the latter of whom seemed to be a wreck. She was shaking, wracked with sobs, though she was doing her best to remain reserved. Annikin walked up to them and gave them both a hug at the same time, and for the last time the family momentarily held each other in their embrace.

“You come back and see us again, son,” Cliegg told him as they pulled away, “you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Annikin told him truthfully. “I will see you both again.”

Shmi’s reserved yet shaking shield began to collapse altogether. Annikin embraced her again, holding her for what he knew could be the last time in their lives, though he chose to believe that they would all see one another again. She looked up at him, and as she did Annikin wiped away a tear from her eye, as it was hard for him to see her in such an emotional state.

“I didn’t tell you any of this because I didn’t want things to change,” Shmi confessed, remaining in his arms. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course I can,” Annikin told her, “but you can’t stop the change anymore than you can stop the suns from setting every night.”

Annikin pulled away, but before he could Shmi kissed him on the cheek. At that point, emotion began to overcome him as well and he knew that he could not saying anything else without the risk of breaking down, so he pulled away and after taking one last look at his parents he turned and started walking towards Obi-Wan. He would never be able to repay Cliegg and Shmi for everything they had done as his parents, nor would they ever be able to thank him for the happiness that they brought him as their son.

While he was walking past the edge of the main hold, Annikin looked down and saw Owen standing there. That stopped him right where he was, but he did not know what to do or say. Luckily for him, Owen already knew what to do. He waved his hand, though it was brief before he put it back down again. Even so, as Annikin returned the parting wave, he knew that his departure might have allowed him to finally break through to the more brotherly side of Owen Lars, though it was unfortunate that he would be unable to remain to see whether or not he had actually had an affect on his older stepbrother.

Nearly a half hour later, Annikin and Obi-Wan were only fifty meters or so from Arcadia’s ship. Obi-Wan was telling him what to expect when they arrived at the Jedi Temple and some of it, especially all of the procedures and formalities involved in being chosen to speak to the Jedi Council, seemed overwhelming to him, but he was confident that he would be able to hold his own while they were testing him to see whether or not he was fit for Jedi training.

Mid-sentence, Obi-Wan stopped which prompted Annikin to stop as well. Obi-Wan reached into the Force and sensed a dark presence making its way towards them from behind, so he pushed Annikin to the ground and ducked while igniting his blue lightsaber, which quickly collided with Maul’s fierce crimson blade after the dark one jumped off of his speeder bike.

“Annikin, get out of here,” Obi-Wan said while keeping Maul busy. “Tell them to take off and get over here.”

As Annikin ran towards the ship, Obi-Wan assumed the high guard before slashing downward in a blur of blue light to parry Maul’s attack, an attack that was fueled by generations of rage and hatred towards the Jedi Order. Maul was an effective weapon of hatred and death, and he proved this as he slashed from right to left on high, but at the last second he changed his grip to try to fake out Obi-Wan and stabbed forth in his other hand.

Obi-Wan saw the attack coming, and with his leg he used the Force to strike against air itself and speed up his movements, spinning out of the way of Maul’s attack. He gripped his hilt tightly and knocked the attack upwards, giving him an opportunity to strike towards Maul’s midsection. Sweat began falling off of his brow and the heat started becoming unbearable as Maul parried the attack, sending Obi-Wan backwards to avoid being struck by Maul’s attack. The Jedi Knight could not find an appropriate opening, something that greatly annoyed him as he watched his strikingly familiar foe.

The dark one quickly spun while holding his blade aloft, enabling him to halt the attack. His smile widened and splashes of sparks burned in his twisted eyes. He reached his right foot out looking for solid ground, and, once found, he slid like a snake across the desert floor. His blade came free as he released a sonic scream at his foe all while he swung his blade in a blurring circle above his head. With any luck, the Jedi Knight would enter the killing field.

Calling on the Force, Obi-Wan leaped into the air and used the powers the Force gave him to guide his mind and body. When he landed on the other side of the dark warrior, he thrust his lightsaber behind him to defend against the swirling display and quickly spun around and clashed with Maul again. The energy of their blades sent sparks flying out in all directions like the fireworks of Life Day on Kashyyyk, though they did very little to end the seemingly tied duel.

As the royal starship roared to life, the two combatants surged back and forth across the flat desert sands, their blue and red blades flashing brightly with each blow which caused sand and grit to swirl about in what seemed to be a small twister around them. Obi-Wan quickly looked to his side to see the ship skimming the ground towards him, though as the ship’s ramp began to lower to allow him entry, he was forced to parry yet another attack from the demonic master of battle.

The intensity of the attacks became fiercer and faster, causing the dust to swirl about even more. The two agile warriors disappeared into the sands and they could not see one another, which proved helpful to Obi-Wan. When he sensed that the ship was overhead, he channeled the Force and flew into the air, landing on the ship’s entry ramp. That was not the end of Maul, though, as he sped up his movements and ran towards the ship, leaping into the air and landing right next to Obi-Wan.

Maul’s eyes flared with rage as Obi-Wan attacked by rushing him, closing towards him at the edge of the ramp. They were nearly fifteen meters into the air, and they could both tell that the ship was being held at a consistent height because of their duel. Obi-Wan tried to go higher while Maul struggled to hang on, but the warrior continued his ascent up the ramp towards him.

Suddenly, hope appeared for Obi-Wan. Annikin made his way to the top of the ramp and bent down onto his chest, reaching out his hand for Obi-Wan to take. The Jedi Knight grabbed it, but before he could be pulled up he thrust his leg outwards, causing his foot to impact Maul’s face. Maul stumbled and Obi-Wan kicked him again, sending him off the side of the ramp.

Speeding up with every inch that he descended, Maul hit the ground hard and had to shake off the unconsciousness that tried to overtake him. He called his lightsaber back into his hand and prepared to run for the ship again, though it was too late. The chase was over, and he was forced to turn off his lightsaber and watch in frustration as the ramp to the ship closed and the craft sped off into space.

Inside the starship, Obi-Wan fell backwards against a cargo crate. Annikin helped him lean up against it as Dooku quickly made his way towards him. Obi-Wan barely noticed them at first as he tried to catch his breath, though the cool metal floor helped relax him as the sweat and dust continued to fall off of his face and clothing. He took deep breaths at first as he waited for his heart to slow down, but all he could think about was his opponent.

Obi-Wan was surprised at how well the other warrior fought, and it led him to believe that Maul was a Sith Lord, possibly even the one that Sarus had said he fought years earlier. What was strange about this possible Lord of the Sith to Obi-Wan, though, was how familiar he looked. He felt as if he had seen the Zabrak before somewhere, though he did not know where. He knew very few Zabraks in his life, but he could not think of who this one was.

“Are you alright?” Annikin asked with concern.

“I think so,” Obi-Wan replied as his breathing started to normalize.

“What was it?” Dooku asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said, still trying to figure out what had happened, “but whoever he is, he’s been well trained in the Jedi arts.”

Thinking of what Sarus had said, Dooku also thought about the possibility that Obi-Wan had fought a Sith Lord, though he dismissed the idea rather quickly. There were many small groups of Dark Jedi Knights throughout the galaxy, some far more powerful than others, so Dooku came to the conclusion that it was someone from one of those groups. Believing anything else, in his opinion, would have been foolish and incredibly naïve.

Deep in the catacombs in the Ophuchi Sanctuary, Sarus crawled through the tunnels that would take him to the ledge that he and Annikin had spoken on only a few nights earlier. He was awaiting his new instructions and he was eager to begin the next phase of whatever plans the higher powers had crafted in the destiny of the Chosen One. Sarus did not know what the plans were, though he hoped that he would be able to continue in the role that he had assumed.

As he approached the top of the tunnels, his thoughts centered on Annikin. He knew that telling him the truth about what he had done to Sebulba’s racer was the right thing to do, though he still did not feel well about it because of how it had dramatically changed their relationship. He had hoped to remain Annikin’s friend, though that seemed very unlikely. Even so, he did not regret what he did to Sebulba. In the end, what he did was what saved Annikin’s life and won his freedom for him, so he was proud of what he had done for the destiny of the Chosen One and the greater good of the entire galaxy. The life of one Dug was worth risking for that.

When he arrived at the top of the tunnel and emerged onto the ridge, where he was able to overlook the two setting suns, he found the one he expected there waiting for him. The man standing before him was the Shaman of the Whills. Sarus had first been contacted by him after Annikin’s birth and had received his first instructions, and Sarus had led the Ophuchi accordingly ever since. He never truly understood the Shaman, though. He knew that in a sense the prophetic figure was dead, but he appeared corporeal. He was not a ghost and he was not an illusion, but rather it was as if he was still alive.

“Have they left yet?” the Shaman asked, curious as to how long it would be until the next part of Annikin’s destiny would be set into motion, a part that the Shaman already knew full well about.

“Hours ago, my Lord,” Sarus informed him. “What will you have me do next?”

“Nothing,” the Shaman said as he turned away from the sunset to look Sarus directly in the eye. “You’ve played your part and you’ve played it well. For now, return to your people and continue on with your life.”

The Shaman, despite having lived thousands of years earlier as a veteran of more than one war, looked no older than thirty standard years. His muscular frame was covered by his tan and brown robes, similar to the ones that Sarus wore while also similar to the robes of a Jedi Knight, and he stood just shy of two meters. His aqua blue eyes had been able to pierce the souls of millions of people, inspiring them to be better than were. He had somewhat of a thin beard, and he scratched it as he watched Sarus’s seemingly defeated expression after he spoke.

“Just like that?” Sarus asked, his tone giving the Shaman a sense that he was deeply frustrated by the fact that he no longer had a role to play. “A few days and I’m already done with him?”

“Your part in the greater destiny is not yet over,” the Shaman said, “but you’ve fulfilled your tasks with the Chosen One. You will have more parts to play in the future, but there is a great deal of time between now and then.”

The Shaman stepped off of a larger rock down to what seemed to be a pit where Sarus was standing. He could tell that Sarus was disappointed and he sympathized with him, but there was little that he could do. The Shaman was simply the messenger for his masters, and his masters were the ones that decided what roles one would play in the destiny of the universe.

“Your prophet and I thank you for everything you’ve done,” the Shaman told him with a great deal of sincerity and gratitude.

The desert winds began to pick up and they seemingly engulfed the Shaman within them. His physical essence began to be picked apart piece by piece from the winds, and within moments his spirit left the ledge and was taken by the winds of the Force into an another place and another time, one far more fair and free from the oppressive forces that were at work in the mortal realm.

Watching him disappear, Sarus was disappointed by the Shaman’s revelation that much of his role was already behind him and the prospect that he was going to become insignificant frustrated him. However, he was able to take some comfort in the fact that he would have some sort of role to play later. He could only hope that he could one day see Annikin again and hopefully mend their tattered friendship.

Chapter 16: Cat and Mouse
The rain pounded down all around Mace Windy, as he inconspicuously walked through the streets of Nar Shaddaa’s Corellian sector. It had been many years since he had been to the planet and he had hoped he would never have to return, as he truly hated being there. It had been when he was only nineteen and was traveling with his master to confront a Dark Jedi that had tried to murder a fellow Jedi Padawan on Coruscant that he'd last been to Nar Shaddaa. They tracked him all the way to the Smuggler’s Moon of Nal Hutta and were forced to nearly kill the Dark Jedi, though they restrained themselves from fatally wounding him to catch him, and they eventually did apprehend him and took him back to Coruscant, where he stood trial and had the Force within him suppressed.

The planet was an interminable metropolis that twinkled with numerous power systems, city lights, traffic landing beacons and the lights of traffic itself. There were thousands, if not millions of speeders flying through the air across the planet, each one of them holding a person who wished they were somewhere else. Seen from orbit, Nar Shaddaa would have looked like a blaze of light and sparkling colors, a sight that could even make people forget the type of place it truly was.

Although Mace had been to numerous impoverished worlds during his time as a Jedi, Nar Shaddaa did not compare to any of them. The people were degenerates, and because many of them truly were the scum of the galaxy, he had a hard time respecting them as the way of the Jedi taught him to do. Then there was a rigid class structure that kept over ninety percent of the planet poor, letting the Hutts and crime lords take all of the money for themselves.

It all disgusted him and he had to make a great effort to hide it. Normally he would agree that hiding something would be to ignore something, but he was not on Nar Shaddaa to try to change the economic system of the planet. After he had spoken to Yoda and Ki-Adi on the Kaminoan landing pad, he used the main computer in the cloning facility and decoded the travel plans of Jango Fett. There were numerous stops that Jango planned to make and they were all named in code, but Mace recognized that the code name “Vertical” likely referred to Nar Shaddaa, which was sometimes called Vertical City.

As he rounded a corner, the smell of trash and decay hit him like a brick wall. The awful odor, which smelled of a combination of death, vomit, and trash, was only amplified by the rain that was pouring all around him. He used the Force to try to block most of it out, but he could still smell how awful it was. If he had his way, Nar Shaddaa would have been an entirely different planet.

Mace made his way over to a guard rail on the edge of the platform and he was able to take in the entire surrounding area. There was not a single form of plant life or any other animal other than rats and mice in sight. It was all metal and garbage, living up to its name as the poor man’s Coruscant. It was a dump and a breeding ground for illicit activities, though that proved useful to him. He needed an undesirable to help him, as it was very likely that Jango was connected to the crime on the planet. That is why he requested that a contact he had met when he arrived two days earlier meet him there at that very guard rail.

Wanting to brush up on the locale, Mace had read a great deal of the standard information on Nar Shaddaa as he made his way to the planet. It was somewhat similar to Coruscant in terms of its surface, but where Coruscant was only dangerous mostly on the lower levels, crime and danger ran rampant throughout all parts of the Smuggler’s Moon. The Hutts cared very little about what happened, so long as it did not disrupt their monetary income.

Nar Shaddaa became polluted and infested after the Tionese War, over a thousand years after the formation of the Republic. It became the center of a number of illegal operations throughout the galaxy, and whereas Coruscant was filled with shimmering apartments and political fortune, Nar Shaddaa was dominated by a decaying urban landscape and congested, polluted cities. Being so distant from most centers of trade, it was allowed to run its own affairs without the interference of the Republic or any other government.

The Jedi Master knew full well that a number of young smugglers, pirates and criminals had started their careers on Nar Shaddaa, as most of it was controlled by the Hutts and other crime lords. He was able to exploit a criminal’s need for work and offered one hundred credits to a young thief, who also sometimes acted as a courier named Lannik Racto. The criminal-to-be had told Mace that he hoped to one day be a crime lord, so Mace realized that he would be able to exploit the young man’s desperation for criminal work and have him find Jango Fett. That was over a day earlier and Mace was getting impatient.

As he turned and leaned up against the guard rail, he could tell that people were looking at him, wondering what he was doing. He of course was not dressed as a Jedi Master, having decided to put on the clothing of a bounty hunter, albeit a clean and showered one. His lightsaber was hidden under his clothing and he opted to have a blaster hang from his belt, knowing that it would ward off any suspicion people could have of him. The only way someone would know that he was a Jedi would have been if there was another Force-user on the planet, which he sincerely doubted. Jedi were hardly ever sent to Nar Shaddaa, and when they were, they always kept to themselves.

Mace’s eyes darted to his left when he saw that Racto was approaching him. The young criminal was only eighteen years old, though he looked a few years older than that, which proved valuable when he dealt with other criminal elements in the city. He had long brown hair and almost inhuman blue eyes, and his tall, muscular build helped him when dealing with others, as he was somewhat intimidating to certain people, though not Mace. There was nothing that Mace had encountered since he was young that intimidated him.

“Did you find him?” Mace asked, keeping his voice soft and low so none of the people passing by would be able to hear him.

“He’s got an office about a kilometer from here,” Racto told him, anxious for his payment. “I don’t know what you expect outta this. He looks like a legit businessman, not a criminal.”

It was somewhat understandable to Mace that Racto thought that Jango operated a legitimate business. It was the naivety of youth, especially a criminal youth who had not yet been exposed to the real world like others had. It was far more likely that whatever business Jango was operating was nothing more than a cover for his true intentions, whatever those intentions might have been.

“Thanks for your help,” Mace said, pulling the credits out of his pocket and handing them to Racto. “They’re all there.”

Despite Mace’s assurance, Racto took a moment to count each credit stick. Racto had been cheated by enough people in his life to know not to simply trust in what they say, though it seemed that Mace’s word was genuine. All of the credits were there, and while one hundred credits was not a lot, in such a day and age, it would be enough for him to get the supplies he needed for his next operations.

Racto nodded in thanks and quickly left the area, not wanting any of his rivals to see the money he had received. Mace also did not waste any time in moving on, walking down towards another street as Racto left. Walking down it, he saw that it was not any different than any of the other areas, as there were constantly undesirables passing him. Luckily for him, his attire fended off any suspicion, and no one approached him as they all thought he was just another bounty hunter.

Nearly half of an hour later, Mace had found Jango’s office, or at the very least the building it resided inside of. Standing on the corner of the street, he looked above him and saw a nearly-ten meter long window above him. On the other side of the blue-tinted glass were two men speaking to one another. One was a Human male with darker skin, though lighter than Mace’s, and the other one was a Rodian, though Mace could not make him out as well as the Human.

Making the assumption that the Human was Jango, Mace quickly made his way into the building. To his surprise, the interior was more like one that would be found on Coruscant or Telos IV instead of Nar Shaddaa. The tan and orange walls seemingly pointed the way to Jango’s office, so Mace walked across the cold and gray durasteel floor until he approached the only orange and gray titanium door that had two guards in front of it. There was an orange marquee sign sticking out next to the door to indicate what number facility it was within the building, and the green plasma sign above the door read ‘Fett Consortium,’ a name that Mace had never heard before.

Mace waved his hand and planted the telepathic suggestion to move out of the way inside of the minds of the two Weequays that were guarding the doorway, and they immediately complied with that suggestion. As the Jedi Master approached the door, it slid open vertically and allowed him entrance into a reception area. The Rodian he had seen through the window, who was somewhat larger in weight than most other members of his species, yet still carrying the same basic features, was sitting behind the welcome desk, so Mace approached him.

The reception area was more or less like the generic ones seen on Coruscant and other planets throughout the galaxy. The gray metal desk was lined with blue and white plasma lights and there was a computer console sitting on it. There were two ancient statues behind the Rodian, the figures kneeling down and facing the floor. For all Mace knew, it was some sort of ancient ritual or it was two figures preparing to run in a marathon. He knew little about ancient customs, so the statues did not mean anything to him.

Behind the counter against the gray wall, also lined with the blue and white lights, was an orange and white sign containing what Mace assumed was the symbol of the Fett Consortium. The symbol, which was a wide crescent moon with a circle surrounding it and a small ancient depiction of an animal face within it, looked somewhat familiar to him, though he was unsure why as he could not remember where he had seen a similar design before.

“Cowbasa!” the Rodian said in Huttese to welcome Mace once he saw him standing at the desk, as it had taken him a few moments to do so, considering he had become lost in his work just as he usually did. “Dolpe Reelo Baruk. Dopra do nuppee nupee um baw wah duh poolyee yama. Ah’chu apenke?”

“I’m Aay Zavos,” Mace told Reelo, giving the name of an actual Republic dignitary with a wave of his hand, just in case the Rodian did not comply to his request by a natural means. “The Republic sent me to talk to Jango Fett. Can you bring me to him?”

“Eniki!” Reelo replied almost instantly, which brought Mace to give off a faint sigh of relief, considering it did not take much to sway the Rodian’s thoughts.

The fact that Reelo seemed to serve as a receptionist came as a bit of a surprise to Mace. He had never seen someone with a title like Vice-President and Systems Consultant for Personal Development and Management Systems serve in a job such as that, though it was possible that the consortium was either understaffed or the Rodian was simply trying to impress him by making up a false title.

Inside the office at the far end of the hall, Jango stood in front of a holo-screen, speaking with one of his associates and most trusted advisers. Jango was a tall middle-aged man with scars on his face, and his dark eyes reflected his intensity in any given situation. The man on the screen, whose name was Solus, looked similar to him, though he was a few years older and had a thin brown beard.

“Te dajunare o’r naritir,” Solus told Jango. “Mhi tsikala bah nari bat gar ke’gyce.”

“Ke’pare,” Jango said after he turned saw Reelo bringing Mace into the room. “Tion ni be o’r tigaanur.”

As the image on the screen faded away, Jango turned to properly greet Reelo and Mace, though he had yet to hear his name. He assumed that Mace was just another member of his criminal organization that had come to speak with him, something that happened frequently. Ever since he had built the company from the ground up twenty-five years earlier, he always had employees who wanted to complain about the work they were given or the profit shares they received. Such people tended not to be employed long after that, so Jango was prepared to let Mace go as well.

“Who do we have here?” Jango asked, walking back towards his desk.

Jango’s office was typical of most others. The silver and blue metal walls and windows gave off a cold and mechanical feeling, and though it was not as decorated as an office on Coruscant was it was still a design he had become accustomed to. Mace was unsure as to why the designs were same across the galaxy, though he assumed that there was some sort of reason for it.

“My name’s Aay Zavos,” Mace told him. “I’m an emissary from the Republic.”

Jango did not expect such a response. Mace was dressed in clothing that was more fit for a mercenary or a bounty hunter rather than a dignitary sent on official business by the Republic, though had that been the only thing that made Jango suspicious then he would have brushed it off, not wanting to judge a man by the clothing he wore. There were other factors, though, mainly the description that he had heard of Aay Zavos many times in the past, a profile that Mace did not fit.

Zavos was well connected to crime considering his position in government, as someone who would reach out to criminals when need be, and although Jango had never personally met him, he knew that Zavos was an incredibly large man, which was a testament to his rumored greed and corruption. The politician’s fiery red hair was also a trademark that Jango had heard about, and Mace simply did not fit that profile at all.

“Tarisian ale?” Jango asked, deciding to go along with Mace to find out more as he began pouring a glass from the bottle on his desk. “It’s the finest in the galaxy.”

“I’ll pass,” Mace said just before Jango pointed towards a chair to offer the Jedi Master a seat in front of the desk.

“Suit yourself,” Jango said just prior to taking a sip from the glass as he sat down behind his desk. “So now, Mister Zavos, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was on Kamino a few days ago,” Mace told him. “Your clones are impressive. You must be proud of your work.”

Once more, Mace surprised Jango. Considering the line of work he was in, Jango very rarely became surprised by anything. It was the upside to being desensitized to crime and death, at least in his opinion, but so far Mace was two-for-two. How he had learned about the clones was unclear, though he knew that the army was meant for the Republic. There was no reason for him to become concerned, but he had not been told that the army was already being inspected by the Republic.

“I don’t know why they picked me instead of someone else,” Jango said, continuing to play along with the act. “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe.”

“Aren’t we all?” Mace asked coyly.

Jango let out a small chuckle at the comment, although he did it mainly to humor Mace as he did not see much humor in it. Whether or not there was any was something that Jango did not know, as the years had stripped away his sense of humor and replaced it with a profound sense of duty, honor and a position where one had to take themselves absolutely seriously.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence between them when neither of them knew what to say and could only just stare at one another. It was uncomfortable for Mace, especially as he normally was able to easily read people, but there was something about Jango that made him hard to peg. He almost seemed somewhat resilient to subtle nudges in the Force that would allow him to be read more clearly, and his strong pazaak face did not make it any easier.

Looking to his left, Mace found a slightly open doorway. It looked somewhat damaged and at first he paid it no mind, but on the other side of the seemingly broken door was a large suit of body armor with a helmet lying next to it. Mace could only make out part of it because of its position behind the door, though from what he could tell it was a heavily armored silver and blue suit with a helmet that resembled those worn by the Mandalorians, thousands of years earlier. It furthered his belief that Jango was a member of the Mandalorian Clans, though it was still simply circumstantial evidence. He would need further proof.

“Ever make your way to Coruscant?” Mace asked as he turned back towards Jango.

“Once or twice,” Jango replied, noticing that Mace had seen the armor, and although he had no reason to believe that the Jedi Master thought of it suspiciously, he still wondered why the Jedi Master looked at it so closely for a moment. “I haven’t been there in a few years.”

“Then that must be where you met Jedi Master Sido-Dyas,” Mace suggested.

The name was not a familiar one to Jango. He had met very few Jedi during his lifetime, and those he did meet were not ones that he ever cared to meet again. He paid little attention to the inside workings and the membership of the Jedi Order, though after hearing the suggestive question he wondered if Mace himself was actually a Jedi sent to interrogate him, a thought that put him somewhat on edge.

“Master who?” Jango asked, smiling thinly at Mace.

“Sido-Dyas,” Mace repeated. “Isn’t he the Jedi who hired you for this job?”

“Never heard of him,” Jango told him. “I was recruited by a man called Nightblade on one of the moons of Bogden.”

“I see,” Mace said with a great deal of curiosity over who this mysterious Nightblade was.

The only Nightblade that Mace had ever heard of was Damien Nightblade, the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order during the later stages of the Great Territorial War almost four thousand years earlier. Damien Nightblade was said to have vanished a few years after the war ended and it was unknown whether or not he had any descendants. It was entirely possible that this Nightblade was a descendant of his, as he highly doubted that he was alive after four millennia.

Jango thought back on his encounter with Nightblade, a man who hid beneath a cloak within the shadows of the pale moonlight. Jango had just finished eradicating the top members of a criminal syndicate called the Bando Gora when he first met Nightblade face to face. He spoke rather cryptically and seemed almost mystical, as if he were some sort of primitive tribal shaman from millennia earlier. He had spoke with Nightblade only a few times after their encounter, though Jango was never able to learn anything about him.

“Do you like your army?” Jango asked.

“I look forward to seeing it in action,” Mace told him.

“They’ll do their job well,” Jango said with a grin. “I’ll guarantee that.”

Mace subtly and momentarily cocked an eyebrow at Jango’s comment. It had seemed to him that Jango almost knew that something was going to happen and that the clones would be effective against a potential enemy, but he had no idea how he could have known that. More importantly, he needed to find out who that enemy was. If it was simply the battle droids that were amassing themselves on Utapau, then it would not be as difficult as fighting an enemy such as the Mandalorians, assuming that they were the enemy.

Knowing that he had to leave before he was captured, Jango stood up, followed quickly thereafter by Mace. Jango’s vessel, the Slave I, was at a landing pad less than a kilometer away, and if he could get there before Mace got to him then he was confident that he would be able to escape and return to his home base of operations without being captured by the Republic.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jango said as he made his way towards the door that blocked the armor, “I have another appointment. You know the way out.”

“Thank you for your time, Jango,” Mace told him.

“Always a pleasure to meet someone from the Republic,” Jango said with a smirk.

Pushing the broken door open manually, Jango made sure that he stood in front of the armor as best as he could to block it from Mace’s view. He did not know how much Mace knew about the design and whether that would make him assume that Jango was a Mandalorian, but he was not willing to take the chance of being accused of that. When he was safely on the other side of the door, he slid it shut once more.

When the door finally did slide shut, Mace began looking around the office for clues that could help support his investigation. He opened Jango’s desk and found a group of datapads, though they were all encrypted with random codes so he was unable to view them. He hoped that sitting at the other side of the desk would give him a different vantage point, though he still saw nothing. That changed when he saw the holo-screen on the wall to his left.

Mace made his way back around the desk and up to the holo-screen. When he turned it on, a group of symbols appeared on the sides of the screen and a blank image appeared where a video feed would appear. Mace instantly recognized the symbols as Mando’a, the language of the Mandalorians, considering he had learned what they looked like as a Jedi youngling. The symbols were based on those of the ancient Taungs, and they were an important part of Jedi studies when learning about the history of Coruscant.

Underneath the holo-screen was a small datapad stuck into a computer terminal. Mace pulled the pad out of the terminal, and when he did the holo-screen turned off and the pad began displaying the same symbols and blank images that the holo-screen had shown. Mace’s eyes lit up when he saw this, because he knew he would be able to use it as evidence against Jango. First, though, he needed to capture him and bring him to Coruscant.

No sooner had he begun thinking about that did he notice something on the streets below the window out of his peripheral vision. Mace ran towards the window and saw what appeared to be an armor-clad warrior wearing silver body armor and a bucket-shaped helmet running down the street through the continuing rain. Mace quickly walked over to the door and pushed it open, and when the door was open he found that the armor he had seen was no longer there.

Realizing that the running man was Jango, Mace bolted through the doorway and down a nearby flight of stairs. They led directly out to a door, and before he even reached it, he threw out his hands and called upon the powers of the Force, using them to open the door so he could run right through them and back into the rainstorm once he got to the bottom of the staircase.

Jango was getting further away, but he was still in Mace’s line of sight. There were not many people out on the streets, considering the time of night and the rain that had been pounding down for nearly two days, so he felt that it would be easy to keep track of the criminal operator. Not wanting him to gain anymore ground, Mace took off after him, using the Force to accelerate his speed as he ran through the streets.

Running down the street, Mace knew that he had made a large blunder when he had stayed to look through the office rather than watching Jango. Although he did gain information that helped prove that the Mandalorians were somehow involved with the creation of the clone army, he also needed Jango and he needed to take him alive to Coruscant, which was why he had already arranged transportation on a Republic ship that would, hopefully, arrive on-time.

Before too long, Mace found himself in an open area of the streets where virtually nothing, including people, was around him. He should have been able to see Jango, but he was nowhere to be found, at least at first. Mace felt a strange sensation in the Force and ignited his purple bladed lightsaber, which surprised Jango, as he did not think that Mace was a Jedi. Mace instinctively turned around to deflect a blaster bolt from Jango’s twin pistols, which he was shooting from an overhead balcony that he had somehow managed to get onto.

It only took a few moments for Mace to realize how Jango had made his way up there. Jango’s backpack ignited to reveal itself as a jetpack, and Mace spun as Jango flew right over his head. Jango continued firing his blasters and Mace deflected each one. Most of the deflected blasts were bounced off in different directions, considering Mace needed Jango alive, but those that did go back to Jango simply bounced off of his armor.

Jango disengaged his jets and landed on the roof of a small nearby building. Only an instant later, he leaned forward and a rocket shot out of the top of his pack, soaring directly towards Mace. The Jedi Master did not have enough time to respond, but it only landed a meter or so in front of him. He was thrown to the side of the street, causing his lightsaber to turn off as he was landing on his side and rolling across the ground. He was unhurt, but that did not change the fact that Jango had a great advantage over him.

Quickly recovering, Mace stood up and started to run back towards Jango, but the fugitive once more shot a rocket directly towards him. Mace turned around to avoid it once more, but, as before, it hit near him and sent him flying forward, causing the Jedi Master’s lightsaber to fly out of his hand and skid across the wet streets. Behind him, he could hear the jetpack once more, but it quickly stopped.

Mace jumped up to see Jango nearly over him, so, with a yell, he leaped forward and jump-kicked Jango in the face. The armored warrior crashed into the ground as Mace landed on his own feet. He quickly dove on top of Jango and held down his left hand, knowing that he could not let him ignite his jetpack. At the same time, the Jedi Master reached out his hand and called his lightsaber back to him, letting it soar into his hands from a few meters away.

With his lightsaber in his hand, Mace brought it down up against Jango’s neck to try to keep him where he was while waiting for the Republic ship that he had called for, but Jango knew that the Jedi Master would not kill him. He struggled against Mace’s strength, but Mace amplified it using the Force. Even so, Jango was still a strong opponent, and he knew how to get out of tricky situations. Maneuvering just right, he was able to kick Mace in the back and send him flying forward into a roll, giving himself just enough time to free himself.

Making his way to his own two feet, Jango pointed his twin blasters directly at Mace, who dodged them as he was getting back up to the ground. When he was standing, he used his blade to deflect them, but Jango was relentless and continued firing. He intended to tire the Jedi Master out, knowing that it was one surefire way of making defeating a Jedi easier. Mace also knew this, and he knew it all too well.

When it seemed as if Jango would never give up, Mace was given exactly what he needed. A massive fireball shot out from one of the nearby buildings, sending both Jango and Mace to the ground. From the hole that the explosion caused came a small garrison of Republic security forces, all carrying state of the art weaponry while dressed in the latest in lightweight, yet strong, armor designs.

The Republic forces surrounded Jango as he stood up, but for a moment he seemed like he would not back down. He hated being forced into the no-win scenario and it rarely ever happened to him, but he knew that Mace had outsmarted him. It was no matter, though, as he knew that wherever they took him, he was likely to have at least one contact that could help him escape. Knowing that, he threw his blasters to the ground and took off his helmet, letting the cool night’s air hit his face as he prepared to be taken into custody.

Relieved that the short ordeal was over and he could finally return to Coruscant, Mace stood up and disengaged his lightsaber, placing it back onto his utility belt where he much preferred it to remain. As he straightened himself out, he noticed one of the men walking towards him. He was older than most of the others, perhaps thirty to thirty-five standard years old, and he had obviously risen through the ranks. He had a darker complexion, somewhat in-between that of Mace and Jango, with a bald head and a black goatee. When he approached, he stopped right in his tracks and saluted to Mace, signifying his respect for the Jedi Order.

“Master Windy,” the officer said as he lowered his salute, “I’m Commander Reylan Aadaeil of the CSF Organized Crime Unit. We’re ready to take the prisoner into custody on Coruscant.”

“Good,” Mace said, recognizing the acronym as that of the Coruscant Security Force. “Take us to your ship whenever you have him ready.”

Jango grinned as he looked back at Mace, as he could tell that the Jedi Master obviously did not recognize the mistake in bringing Jango to Coruscant. While the CSF officers were taking his jetpack off of his back, Jango considered how many contacts he had in the Coruscanti underworld and he was fully prepared to pull in a few favors to get those contacts to help him escape. It could take him a few days considering how hard it would be to escape from the Jedi Order, though he was confident he could beat them. He had always been taught that it was not difficult to outsmart or kill a Jedi Knight.

As Jango was being taken away, Mace knew that the Jedi Council would be relieved to have the supposed Mandalorian in their custody. Mace and others would not waste much time waiting to interrogate him, as the clone mystery was vitally important to Republican interests. He had his own suspicions that it somehow was involved in the crisis on Utapau, though only time would tell if that were true.

The only thing that worried Mace was what would happen if Jango was a Mandalorian and his people found out that he was in the custody of the Jedi Order, the very same people that had shamed them in the Mandalorian Wars nearly four thousand years earlier. Mace could only hope that the CSF was adequately prepared to handle a possible rescue attempt, but considering their skills, he had no doubt that they would be able to repel any possible attack.

Following the CSF officers to their vessel, Mace could not help but wonder how militias like the CSF would feel about the existence of the Clone Army, especially if it became active within the Republic like they were designed to. They had always protected the Republic and it would be strange for them to have to take a back seat to the more highly trained and specialized soldiers, but they were not the only ones who would have to adapt to such a monumental change.

The entire galaxy would be forced to either accept or reject allowing the army to become active within the Republic, and Mace found that rejecting an army that essentially cost them nothing financially, or so he assumed, would be difficult for many. There was no doubt that politicians such as Senator Wilhuff Tarkin, who was a very conservative and pro-military strength leader on Eriadu, would be more than willing to accept the clones, though others, such as Alderaanian Senator Bail Organa, would be far less open to the thought of a grand Republican army. It would be interesting for Mace to see what Chancellor Valorum thought about it.

Arriving at the docked CSF ship a few minutes later, Mace took another look at the city as Jango was being loaded onboard. It would hopefully be quite sometime before Mace returned to a place like Nar Shaddaa, and if he was lucky, then he would never have to return to that particular planet. He did not savor the experience as he turned back towards his starfighter, which was on the landing pad just a few meters away from the security force ship.

Stepping into his cockpit a few moments later, Mace watched as the CSF transport lifted off and skyrocketed back towards space. Mace wasted no time in starting up his engines and lifting off, and as he lifted off he noticed the Rodian secretary from Jango’s office look directly at him before running into an alleyway. Although it may not have meant anything, it gave Mace cause to worry.

Chapter 17: Doubts and Fears
Night fell across the Utapauan cruiser, using an internal chronometer to tell them the time of day for Utapauan standard time as there was no sun to tell one when nightfall was. It was a rather boring time for most of the people onboard as there was little to do, most of the crew and the others having either gone to sleep or scattered about if they had nightly orders to carry out. Some who could have slept, however, preferred to remain awake.

In the cargo hold, which was relatively empty considering they had no time to pack anything before leaving Utapau, Captain Panaka and his men were going through training exercises. The Royal Utapau Security Forces were the premier line of defense for both the Theed Royal Palace and the citizens of the planet, though that was not enough with the Trade Federation blockade.

The people of Utapau were peaceful and only retained security officers and guards rather than a true military organization, and under normal circumstances Panaka agreed with that. His views were changing rather quickly with his homeworld under the control of Nute Gunray and his greedy band of cohorts and conspirators, and he could not help but wonder if things would have been the same if people like Veruna Arcadia had been able to expand the security forces into a military like they had hoped to years earlier.

Within the main area of the ship, R2-D2 rested by powering down, his lights blinking softly while he stood upright and silent. Jar Binks sat in a seat that was leaning backwards, only being supported by his legs that were wrapped around the legs of the table. He held a block of wood in his hands that he was carving with a small knife, something he had learned to do during the plenty of time he had while in exile. The figure in the wood was still incomplete, but it somewhat began to resemble a large Gungan wearing a decent-sized crystal around his neck. Jar knew full well the significance of the Gungan considering it was Gallo, the first leader of the Gungan Empire, who had lived thousands of years earlier.

After the final battle of the war between the Gungan tribes that saw the death of Rogoe, the power-hungry aggressor of the tribes, Gallo had brought the Gungan people together in the ashes of Rogoe’s former capital of Spearhead. The tribes decided to unify together under banner, the banner of the Gungan Empire. It was there at Spearhead that Gallo built Otoh Gunga, and when it was completed thousands of Gungans moved there. It remained the central capital of the Gungans for the thousands of years before Utapau was invaded.

Jar looked from up his carving as Arcadia walked into the room. The Gungan started to stand up, but he hesitated when he saw that the queen was almost in some sort of a trance. She did not even let out a single emotion or indication as to what she was thinking and feeling, but Jar had spent enough time with her to know what she was thinking. Everyone from Utapau was thinking the same thing, though those thoughts had greater implications when dealing with the queen.

As he silently walked through the hold, she stopped and sat down on a small seat next to the window where she began watching the streaks of stars moving past the ship. Jar still contemplated talking to her again, but he was distracted when Annikin also walked into the hold. The young Tatooinian was shivering, causing him to rub his arms constantly as he tried to stay warm. The difference in temperature between space and the scorching desert was almost immeasurable, and Jar recognized that almost instantly.

“You look freezing,” Jar said as Annikin saw the Gungan sitting there.

“It’s very cold,” Annikin told him, his voice also uneven because of the shivers.

Standing up from the table, Jar strode towards a cabinet hanging high up on the nearby silver durasteel wall. Easily unhooking the latch that kept the doors of the cabinet in place, the Gungan pulled open the doors and grabbed a thick blanket from within it. He understood Annikin’s problem somewhat; the ship was a bit colder than Jar was used to feeling in the swamps, though he had no real problem with it. Though his home was primarily within the murky Utapau swamps, he could still feel comfortable in the grassy plains if he chose to venture into them.

“You come from a warm planet, Annikin,” Jar said as he approached him and handed over the thick piece of cloth. “It’s a bit too warm for my tastes.”

“You seemed to get through it alright,” Annikin said as he wrapped the blanket around his body, hoping that he would start to feel better quickly.

“I’ve never really been one to complain,” Jar told him, sitting back down at the table before Annikin followed suit. “If I’m in a situation I don’t think my body can handle, I push myself through it anyway. Your body always gives out before your mind does.”

That was a lesson that Jar had learned from his late father, and one that served him well during his exile from Otoh Gunga. Even though he was a member of the military, which was by both Gungan custom and law, Jar lived a comfortable lifestyle as the Crowned Prince of the Gungan people. He had most everything and everyone that he desired, although it was still somewhat of a shallow and superficial life.

Once he was banished and his exile began, Jar was able to use that lesson well. There were many early days where he did not think he would be able to get through surviving in the swamps because his body told him that the creatures to eat were disgusting or that he couldn’t survive not being in the water constantly, but eventually he was able to use the lesson to train his mind otherwise. Having perfected that for nearly two years, Jar felt confident that he would be able to use it in any situation, such as how he did in the Dune Sea.

As Jar reflected on his exile, Annikin turned around in his chair and saw Arcadia sitting next to the window. Her eyes seemed to gaze out into the heavens, her mind trying to picture a better reality than the one she was having to deal with. The pressure on her shoulders was enormous, to say the very least. She held the future of her people within her hands and if she did not make the right decisions, more people had the potential to die. She could only hope that Chancellor Valorum and Senator Palpatine would be able to offer some sort of assistance.

“What’s that?” Annikin asked, pointing to Jar’s carving after he turned away from Arcadia’s gaze into the abyss of space.

“Do you know what this is?” Jar asked in response as he motioned towards a crystal that was being held in the figure’s lap, though Annikin shook his head when he knew that he did not know what it was. “It’s an ancient crystal, a very important one to my people. Losing it to the Humans of my planet was the reason I was exiled.”

“I’m sorry,” Annikin said sincerely.

“It’s not your fault,” Jar reminded him with a smile. “My people think it contains the healing power of our gods, but the Humans believe it was left by the disciple of a Dark Jedi thousands of years ago. None of us really know what kind of power it has, and I don’t know what to believe.”

“You don’t believe it came from your gods?” Annikin asked, tugging the blanket closer towards his body as he leaned in forward, his curiosity becoming evident.

“There are two groups of religious Gungans,” Jar explained, placing the small carving off to the side of the table so he could lean in and fold his hands on the table while speaking. “One believes in the gods and the other has questions about their existence. After everything I’ve seen over the past few years, especially now with you and the Force, I’m inclined to believe the latter.”

Annikin’s shiver momentarily turned into somewhat of a nervous shake. He was already not happy about the fact that people considered him to be the Chosen One, and hearing what Jar said did not make the situation any better for him. He never wanted to be someone who would drive a wedge between a man and his faith, and even after only a few days that had already happened with him.

“I didn’t mean to make you lose your faith,” Annikin said sadly.

“You didn’t, Annikin,” Jar said as he reached forward to place a comforting hand on Annikin’s shoulder. “I lost my faith a long time ago. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Hearing what Jar had to say made Annikin feel somewhat better about the situation, but only slightly. It was comforting for him to know that he wasn’t the one who made someone lose their faith, but he would still remember the fact that he had been a catalyst in helping someone to recognize it was gone. As he turned back towards Arcadia for a moment, he felt a moment of inspiration and wanted to help her restore her faith or at least push her towards that desired end.

“She seems sad,” Annikin said to Jar, though quiet enough so the radiant queen would not be able to hear him.

“Well, she’s very worried,” Jar told him. “Her people are dying, and she has to convince the Republic Senate to intervene or...well, I’m not really sure what’ll happen to them.”

“I’ll try talking to her,” Annikin said, pushing his chair out from behind him before standing up straight. “Maybe I can get her to open up.”

“Good luck,” Jar said pointedly, as he doubted that Annikin would have much success in getting a monarch to share their feelings.

Keeping his blanket wrapped around him, as it was helping him become warmer but not by any significant amount, Annikin slowly walked towards the young monarch. He was hesitant in approaching her as he did not know if she wanted to be alone or not, but he still felt that it was best if he was to at least try talking to her. There were so many times when Owen had gotten to Annikin and he always felt better after talking to Shmi about it, so he could only assume that Arcadia would feel the same way about opening up to someone else.

Still, Annikin continued with a slow approach. Even though she heard him and saw him coming out of the corner of her eye, she continued to stare out into space. It had always been amazing to her the inherent contradiction written into the very stars that she gazed upon. Just by looking at them, she thought that space seemed so simple; it was a quiet and empty expanse by the look of it. Even so, the queen knew just how complex and deadly the galaxy was, but she had always held out hopes that somewhere far beyond the most distant star was at least one group of people who had been able to overcome their barbaric urges and master their impulses so they could help teach others how to do so as well.

“I missed you at the race,” Annikin said, putting on a smile to try to comfort her as he sat down beside her. “You skipped out on a good one.”

“Sorry,” Arcadia said as she only briefly made contact with him to return his well-received smile. “There was something I wanted to do before we left.”

“Fair enough,” Annikin said, though he was somewhat put off by the lack of response after he spoke so he figured it was best to leave the queen to her thoughts. “Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”

The tender young queen rolled her eyes at herself and turned back towards Annikin. She was afraid that she had offended him by ignoring him when all he was doing was trying to be kind to her, and that had made her feel somewhat cold and distant, feelings that she did not like to exhibit. Besides that, she also felt that she could open up to Annikin because he would be able to understand the pressure she was feeling, considering the recent revelation of his potential destiny.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing Annikin by the hand which, although having taken him aback somewhat, caused him to turn back around and sit down next to her. “I’m sorry, it’s just...well, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Annikin asked, trying to get her to express her feelings.

“After my father died and I became queen,” Arcadia replied, trying her best not to become emotional when talking about her late father, “I was able to see what had to be done to correct mistakes made in the past. I saw the problem and knew the solution and I had my advisers with me to help. Now I’m in a new situation, completely alone, and I know that I’ve failed my people.”

Arcadia’s words were profound, and for a moment Annikin did not know how to reply to them. Even so, he was not one who ever wanted to seem like he had nothing to say to someone, especially in such important situations like this, so thinking quickly he remembered something that he had come to learn after speaking with Cliegg about how he had become frustrated when rebuilding Threepio. As he was collecting the parts for the protocol droid, he had been running into problems trying to piece them back together, and it nearly destroyed the droid’s chassis. It was only after that error did he learn a very important lesson about the nature of failure and success in life.

“I’ve always thought that success comes from experience,” Annikin told her, still holding his blanket tight despite how the conversation was distracting him from the cold ship, “and that experience comes from failure. Just because thing’s haven’t gone exactly how you wanted them to doesn’t mean that you’re going to lose Utapau.”

“It’s hard for me to fail” Arcadia said, her hair nearly falling in front of her entire face as she lowered her head in dejection. “It’s not something I’m used to.”

“Isn’t it worse never to have tried to succeed?” Annikin asked her with a reassuringly warm sense of calm and righteousness.

The comment did, in fact, brighten up Arcadia’s prospects somewhat. She took a moment to think on what Annikin had said and she realized that the problem was not that she had never failed before, but more specifically that she had never learned how to fail. She had succeeded enough to know to let it not go to her head, but she was never put into a position where she would have to experience failure that had real and serious consequences on her and others.

Arcadia had naively felt that she would be able to negotiate with Nute Gunray and simply convince him to leave her planet, but she finally realized that she had unrealistic expectations because she did not understand how intergalactic diplomacy worked. Not everyone was civilized; people would not simply pack up and leave just because she politely asked them to. That was a gross underestimation on reality on her part, and she knew that she had started to learn the lesson of that failure. Hopefully, though, with the combined powers of a Senate majority she would be able to resolve the situation without it escalating to full scale war.

“You’re an incredibly wise young man, Annikin,” Arcadia said, her tone and expressions finally more upbeat than they had been. “I can only imagine the things you’ll accomplish as a Jedi Knight.”

“If I ever become one,” Annikin said with a hint of defeat in his voice. “I was talking to Master Kenobi, and getting off Tatooine wasn’t even half the battle. The Jedi are going to need a lot of convincing to take me in.”

“Would a few words from a grateful queen help?” Arcadia asked playfully.

“They might,” Annikin replied with a laugh, though he also had a question for her. “Out of curiousity, why did you so easily open up to me just now?”

By how he had acted over the last few days, Arcadia was able to see that Annikin was a very modest person. He did not want to think too highly of himself, and he certainly had no interest in being a galactic savior, whether that was true or not. She felt that Annikin was unable to grasp how he could still inspire people regardless of what his destiny was, even though she saw great things in his future.

“Because whether you’re a savior or not,” Arcadia replied, “I think you’re destined to touch the lives of so many people. If you can’t trust heroes to understand you when you need them, who can you trust?”

That was not something Annikin had considered and he had a feeling that Arcadia was right, but before he had a chance to consider it they both turned their gazes towards the window when they noticed that the ship had dropped out of the hyperspace lane. That meant that they had arrived at Coruscant and would be landing any minute. Along with Jar, who was still seated at the table on the other side of the room, they stood up just as an Utapau guard entered the room.

“Your Highness,” the young royal guard said, “we’re making our final approach to Coruscant.”

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Arcadia said before she led Annikin and Jar out of the hold so they could gather at the ship’s port landing ramp.

For thousands of years, Coruscant was a name that had been synonymous with the Galactic Republic, as it had always been known by the citizens of the galaxy to be the central planet of not only the government but of most economic centers that the galaxy had to offer. It had always been a land of prosperity and poverty, as well as freedom and corruption. The rich became richer and the poor became poorer all thanks to the efforts of the Galactic Senate. However, things had changed over the thousands of years after the many centuries of the Great Wars.

Most historians throughout the millennia agreed that Coruscant was the most politically important world in the galaxy. At various times, it was the capital of the Galactic Republic and the Third Sith Empire, which held the planet twice in one hundred years, and an important planet in the Alsakan Union. The vast majority of the planet’s wealth was due to a number of galactic trade routes making its way through it, including the Corellian Run. It was one of the numerous reasons why the rich continued to become richer throughout the centuries.

Coruscant was the site of many important events throughout the history of the galaxy. The Galactic Charter was signed by Jonathan Bac, the first Supreme Chancellor twenty-five thousand years earlier, and other founding members of the Republic in what later became the Galactic Senate building. The fierce yet perhaps mythical confrontation between the minions of Xendor and the Jedi Order also took place in the capital city. The world also became the home of the Jedi Order, as well as the home of Sith Lords, such as Darth Viea and Darth Invidius, during the two instances when the Third Sith Empire was able to take over Coruscant.

The planet was an interminable metropolis that twinkled with power systems, city lights, traffic landing beacons, head lights and the plasma signs of the various districts on the surface. From orbit, it was a blaze of light and sparkling colors, which reminded many space travelers of the Corusca stones that the planet was named after thousands of years earlier when it was colonized by Humans. Native species could now only be found in museums and occasional fossil finds.

As the Utapau royal cruiser descended and made its way through the clouds, the crew could see that the entire surface was covered by sprawling kilometers-high skyscrapers and cities, and it boasted a population of nearly one trillion. The buildings towered over all of the original and now non-existent features such as mountains and oceans, which had given way to the levels and megablocks of cities that could be seen form space. Most of the people onboard had never seen Coruscant before, so it was an interesting sight to them.

When the clouds finally passed and the bustling metropolitan skyline opened up somewhat, the sleek silver starship began to make its final descent. They entered in a traffic lane once there was space available for them, cruising through the maze of buildings that were all around them. When the transport slowed, the other speeders in the area whipped past them and the ship landed softly on a docking bay. They were hundreds of stories above the surface, though the entire platform had been constructed to hold the weight of a starship without collapsing.

Standing on the far end of the landing pad was the delegation of Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum, which also included Senator Malus Palpatine and a handful of senatorial guards dressed in signature blue cloaks and headwear, as well as various other executive guards sworn to protect the Chancellor. Once the ship was on the ramp, they began to walk towards it to greet Queen Arcadia when she stepped out.

When the ramp lowered, and two senatorial guards stood at the bottom of it, the queen gracefully made her way down to the cold metal surface of the landing pad. She had changed from her casual wear into an ornate green royal gown and somewhat of a diadem adorned her head. The jeweled ornament was larger than a normal half-crown, and it was worn by women of royalty on Utapau when placed over the forehead. Her radiant blue eyes were a stark comparison to the area the ship had landed in, reflecting the mostly gray and darker buildings that were towering over them.

Following the queen was her own delegation, as well as Obi-Wan, Dooku, Jar and Annikin, who was astounded by everything that he was seeing. The vast metropolis was like nothing he had ever seen before; the deserts of Tatooine were nothing compared to the sights he was seeing. Thousands of speeders were whipping by in all directions, both above, below and next to him, and the city seemed breathtaking as the sun began to set. The purple and red skies were more vibrant than anything he had ever seen, and even though the day was ending the city showed no signs of slowing down. It was evident that the idea of nighttime meant nothing to the people of Coruscant.

Turning his attention away from the city, Annikin joined the others in bowing to the two politicians that stood before them. He had never heard of either of them before he met Obi-Wan and the others, as Republic politics meant nothing on Tatooine. He very rarely watched the HoloNews, as he was not often around a holoscreen and what was being said never concerned him. He had figured that watching it would just be a waste of his time, though that was clearly about to change.

“It is a great gift to see you alive, Your Majesty,” Senator Palpatine finally said once the introductory bows were out of the way, his hands politely grasped in front of his blue and green robe. “I would like to present Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum.”

“Welcome, Your Highness,” Valorum, the tall and aging gray-haired politician, said in his commanding voice with another slight bow of respect. “It is an honor to finally meet you in person.”

“You as well, Chancellor,” Arcadia told him, returning the gesture with a nod.

“I must relay to you how distressed everyone is over the current situation,” Valorum continued with a hint of worry in his tone. “I’ve called for an emergency session of the Senate to hear your position.”

“I’m appreciative of all you’ve done, Chancellor,” Arcadia told him sincerely.

Palpatine stretched out his hand and pointed towards a small shuttle that had been docked at the side of the pad for them to use as they traveled to Palpatine’s apartment at 500 Republica, a more private place to discuss such matters. Before Valorum was able to step away, Obi-Wan walked up to him. He bowed once more out of respect, though that was simply a formality that he wanted to dispose of quickly.

“We won’t be going with you at the moment, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan told him. “I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately. The situation has become much more complicated than originally anticipated.”

Annikin looked uncomfortable as Obi-Wan said that and Valorum noticed it, though the Chancellor simply nodded in agreement before making his way to the transport. Annikin did not want to complicate anything, but he also knew that Obi-Wan was likely talking about the dark assailant that had attacked him on Tatooine. Either way, Dooku was not pleased; he was very much against Annikin being trained, and he knew that Obi-Wan was going to announce his false conclusion that the mysterious warrior was a Sith Lord.

As night began to fall more quickly and the stars and moons began to shine brightly in the sky, the royal and political delegation arrived at 500 Republica. It had only been a short distance, but night fell quickly after sunset on Coruscant. It had something to do with the environmental controls that maintained the planet’s climate, though most people understood very little about any of that. It was far too complicated for them, and considering their busy lifestyles they had little time to learn about environmental controls that they had nothing to do with.

Senator Palpatine’s apartment was located in the Senate Apartment Complex area of 500 Republica, a place where many prominent politicians maintained a residence. The building was equipped with numerous elevators to protect privacy, and also had dozens of sky docks for numerous transports. Security holograms and hidden weapons guarded the buildings entrances and the halls, making sure that no one that posed a threat to any of the inhabitants of the complex would be allowed to acquire their targets.

Inside the apartment, Palpatine and Valorum spoke with Arcadia. The apartment itself, which Palpatine began living in once he was elected to the Galactic Senate, was decorated in numerous different shades of red, and it overlooked the city from the large set of windows that covered nearly all of the wall. It was decorated more with galactic objects rather than objects and designs from Utapau due to his extensive off-world travel before becoming a Senator. Numerous statues, paintings and other trinkets from across the galaxy decorated the apartment, all of which held a great deal of personal value to him.

The Senator also took great pride in the fact that he displayed items given to him by many of his colleagues. Senator Ackbar of Mon Calamari gave him three pearls from the seas of his homeworld; Senator Baskol Yeesrim of Malastare gave him a ceremonial Gand wind drum from a group of ancient spiritualists on his planet; and Senator Elen Li gave him a prehistoric stone carving of her Triffan species. There were times that he would marvel at his collection, putting him almost into a trance-like state when doing so.

Palpatine himself had been in politics since he was a young man; despite public service being mandatory on Utapau from the ages of twelve to twenty in one form or another, he always wanted to be involved. He entered local politics as the mayor of Dolus just outside of Theed, and after Senator Vidar Kim was assassinated Palpatine was elected to succeed him as the Senator of the entire Chommell sector. He had served in that position ever since.

“The Republic is not as it once was,” Palpatine told the queen, who was sitting on the Senator’s couch while he and Valorum stood in front of her. “The Senate is filled with corrupt delegates who are only looking out for themselves and their systems. There is no interest in the common good.”

“There is no civility, only politics,” Valorum said with a clear distaste for the words that were coming out of his mouth. “It truly disgusts me.”

Finis Valorum hailed from the ancient House Valorum in the Lytton sector, which he served as the Senator of for many years. Three of his ancestors had also served as Supreme Chancellor with high distinction. Benedict Valorum was the Supreme Chancellor during the Great Rim Lines War, and he helped famed Republic Colonel Cos Jonathan Dashin, who later became the Supreme Chancellor during the Great Sovereign Crusades, win the war against the Mandalorians and the Sith, though Benedict was later assassinated at the beginning of the United Pirate Crusades.

Perhaps the better known member of his family was Tarsus Valorum who had served as Chancellor during and after the New Sith Wars. Being the first non-Jedi Chancellor in four hundred years, having taken the position only because Valenthyne Farfalla refused it, he himself was responsible for the Ruusan Reformation that set up many of the Republic’s still-functioning policies such as the lack of a military and more legislative-oriented government. Following Tarsus, Eixes Valorum became Supreme Chancellor over seventy years before Finis Valorum had.

“I must be frank, Your Majesty,” Palpatine said. “There is little chance the Senate will act on this invasion.”

“Chancellor Valorum seems to think that there is hope,” Arcadia said while looking at the Chancellor, who returned her comment with little more than a nod that exemplified the futility of that hope.

“If I may say so, Your Excellencies,” Palpatine continued, “the Chancellor has little real power anymore. He is mired down by ridiculous and baseless accusations of corruption from a manufactured sex scandal.”

“The bureaucrats are in charge now,” Valorum said regretfully. “They’ve taken control of every aspect of republican government.”

Before he could finish speaking, Valorum’s datapad let off a beeping chirp to let him know that he had received a message from his offices. When he looked at it, he saw that he was being called in for a meeting by a group of senators and other political individuals, a meeting that he could not ignore. After placing his datapad back underneath his robes, he clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk towards the door, but not before making sure that the others were told he had to leave for an urgent meeting.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty,” Valorum said, prompting Arcadia to stand up as he left the room, “I have a pressing matter to attend to.”

“Of course, Chancellor,” Arcadia told him as they exchanged bows and the Chancellor left the apartment.

The inexperienced queen had not heard of the scandal involving the Supreme Chancellor. Quite a few sex scandals in Republic politics were often frivolous and were started as mere rumors meant to degrade the individual in question, though others were true. She decided that it would be best to reserve judgment on the matter until she knew more about it, even though she felt that Valorum took himself much too seriously to become involved in something such as that.

“Be honest with me, Senator,” Arcadia said. “What options do we have?”

“As much as I hate to say it,” Palpatine said, his eyes turned down towards the floor every few moments out of regret, “our best choice would be to push the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor, one who could control the bureaucrats and give us justice. When we go before the Senate, you could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum.”

Arcadia recognized the sad look of displeasure on Palpatine’s face. When she had first taken the throne, Palpatine told her that Valorum was one of the first friends he had made when he arrived on Coruscant. They had become even better friends and strong political allies in the years since he first arrived, and Palpatine was one of Valorum’s most vibrant and optimistic supporters during his campaign for the Chancellorship years prior. It was obvious to the queen that such an act of perceived betrayal against the Chancellor would take a toll on the normally passive Senator.

“He’s been one of our strongest supporters,” Arcadia reminded him, “and he’s one of your closest friends. Is there any other way?”

“Our only other choice would be to submit a plea to the courts,” Palpatine explained.

“There’s no time for that,” Arcadia declared in frustration. “The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate. Our people are dying more and more each day. We must act now to stop the Federation.”

“I of course want to act right now against these barbarians,” Palpatine expressed in a concerned tone of voice, “but to be realistic I’d say we’re going to have to accept Federation control for the time being.”

“That is something I will not do,” Arcadia said coldly.

Turning towards the window that overlooked the nighttime cityscape, Arcadia was nearly stunned to hear Palpatine say such a thing. Despite Utapau’s pacifist nature, she could not simply sit back and watch as her people were systematically executed by a greedy and corrupt corporation whose only interest was in money and power. She had to act, and the time for action was that moment. There was nothing more or nothing less that she could ask of herself.

One of the most recognizable landmarks on the surface of the planet was the legendary Jedi Temple, a structure that stood over a kilometer from the surface. With its unique architectural style, it was constructed around an ancient Force nexus located in a natural mountain to house the members of the famed Jedi Order. When it was built after the end of the Great Rim Lines War, the Jedi knew that they would need to make it as reassuring to the people of the Republic as the Great Jedi Pyramid was before it was destroyed by the ancient Third Sith Empire.

Because the Jedi wanted the citizens of the galaxy and their own members to feel comfortable with it, the Temple was built as a fortress yet was given the appearance of a symbol of peace and justice. The exterior was a titanic ziggurat that sat upon a large and empty plain, a plain that was crowned by four spires that housed the more important parts of the Temple. In the center of the four spires was a larger and more central one that housed the Jedi High Council.

Thousands of speeders whisked by the High Council Chambers, oblivious to the fact that a tense meeting was taking place inside regarding Mace Windy’s investigation into the cloners on Kamino and subsequent arrest of Jango Fett. Many of the Council members were not pleased with the fact that Mace, Yoda and Ki-Adi Mundi had taken it upon themselves to investigate the matter without consulting the matter, forcing the three Jedi to defend themselves.

Ten of the twelve Jedi Councilors were seated in their specially-designed chairs arrayed around the circumference of the room, Zhera Narth and Qui-Gon Jinn being the only ones who were not there. High windows in the chamber provided each of the members an impressive panoramic view of the city, reminding them of how many people they were sworn to protect outside of their own walls.

“This investigation was not authorized by the Jedi Council,” the fiery and elderly female Jedi Master Rana Quemin commented. “If it wasn’t in the interest of Republic security, I would have called on this so-called Mandalorians release.”

Quemin was an aging female Human of average height, a slender build and with shining silver hair. She was one of the more conservative members of the Jedi Council, and as a teacher she was very tough and often times harsh in her criticism of student performances, including her own apprentice Crispin Hadaack. Some Jedi likened her to the strict and blunt Jedi Masters Vrook Lamar and Atris from the Jedi Civil War, which often times led to her being the sternest voice in the Jedi High Council chambers.

“Let’s not be overly-emotional, Master Quemin,” the calm and wise old Jedi Master Silas Lasek told her. “I’m sure what Master Windy and Master Yoda did was because they felt it was in the best interest of the Republic and of the Jedi.”

As a teacher and a Jedi Master, Lasek was known for being very kind and approachable, many people saying he was the polar opposite of Quemin. He spent his later years teaching Jedi Younglings at the Jedi Temple, though in his younger years as a Jedi Knight he was a famed champion of the Jedi Order and a very serious warrior. Because of his training duties, however, he ended up leaving the Temple less and less as the years went by, his body becoming frail and his hair becoming a bright white color.

“That’s right,” Mace explained. “I did what I knew was best for the Republic. You have to trust me on that.”

“How can we trust you,” Quemin asked, “when you’ve already gone around normal procedures and carried out a reckless mission without consulting us first?”

“If trust in Master Windy you cannot,” the small Jedi Grandmaster Yoda said from his own specially-designed seat, “then trust in my wisdom you can.”

Although Yoda was indeed the wisest Jedi Master of his time, Quemin had doubts that he was correct about this scenario. Regardless, she was not going to go against him, as it would only lead to further conflict and strife between the ten seated Jedi Councilors. Despite her passionate disagreement, she did not want to see the Jedi Council torn apart from within.

“Where is Jango Fett now?” Quemin asked.

“A secure holding cell in the prison wing,” Mace informed her. “I’ll be interrogating him after this meeting.”

“I’d like to be there,” Quemin told him.

“Out of the question,” Mace said, not wanting her to interfere with his investigation as he believed she would very likely do were she to become involved.

Before any of them could continue in their arguments, the door to the Council Chambers slid open, allowing Obi-Wan and Dooku to walk in. They had been allowed entry by the guards outside, though they realized very quickly by the tense atmosphere that they had interrupted an important meeting. Regardless, the other Jedi Masters were not about to turn them away and the two Jedi knew that, so they continued in to the center of the decidedly non-ornate chambers.

“Continue this matter later, we will,” Yoda told the rest of the Jedi Council before locking his gaze on Obi-Wan, who stood in front of Dooku. “Master Kenobi, glad to see you safe, we are. What to report, do you have?”

“I’ve filed my official report with the Council clerk droids,” Obi-Wan informed him, “though there is one matter I wanted to specifically bring to your attention, with your approval.”

“Go ahead,” Mace said as the other Masters nodded in agreement.

“Before we left Tatooine,” Obi-Wan relayed to them, “I was attacked by a dark assassin. He wielded the lightsaber of a Dark Jedi and was well trained in the ways of the Force. Based on everything I saw and felt, my only conclusion can be that it was a Sith Lord.”

An awkward silence fell across the entire chamber. The Jedi Masters began speaking amongst themselves, some such as Quemin looking at Obi-Wan as if he had lost his mind. Yoda and Mace looked at one another suspiciously, though they did not seem to be looking at Obi-Wan the same way the others did. It almost seemed as if they knew something more than the others, though that was only the perception that Obi-Wan had gotten by looking at them, and he knew he could have been completely wrong in his assessment of their mannerisms.

“Impossible,” Ki-Adi retorted. “The Sith have been extinct for a millennium.”

“I do not believe the Sith could have returned without us knowing,” Mace told Obi-Wan, though he did not outright dismiss Obi-Wan’s claim. “This attack was with purpose, that is clear, and I believe the queen was the target.”

“With Queen Arcadia you must stay, Master Kenobi,” Yoda ordered him, “and you as well, Master Dooku.”

“We’ll use all of our resources here to unravel the mystery,” Lasek said with a compassion that was missing from the voices of the others, “and we will discover the identity of your attacker. May the Force be with you.”

Dooku, having purposely not spoken a word during the entire proceedings out of total disagreement with Obi-Wan’s opinions, turned to leave the chambers assuming Obi-Wan would follow. However, the young Jedi Knight chose not to follow, and instead remained standing before the Jedi Councilors waiting for further acknowledgement that he could continue with another subject.

“Was there something else?” Master Quemin asked Obi-Wan.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, at first unsure as to how he would explain what he had discovered about Annikin. “I have discovered a profound agitation in the Force.”

“Located around a person?” Mace asked, sharing the confused look of his peers.

“A young man,” Obi-Wan explained. “There is compelling evidence that he was born of a virgin birth, and that he is infinitely strong in the Force.”

Yet another strong wave of silence fell over the proceedings. Most of the members of the Council knew all that there was to know about the prophecy of the Chosen One, which they assumed that was what Obi-Wan was referring to. It was one of hundreds of obscure Jedi legends created by Jedi philosophers, and it described the birth of the one who would destroy the Sith and bring the Force back into the balance it had lost through the use of the dark side of the Force. After the New Sith Wars and the destruction of the Sith, though, the prophecy was disregarded.

“You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force?” Mace asked him hesitantly as he heard and ignored the door to the side of the chambers slide open. “You believe it’s this young man?”

“I don’t presume to - ”

“But you do,” Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn said, prompting Obi-Wan and others to turn towards the doorway to see him standing within it. “You’ve already made your opinion clear.”

As Qui-Gon moved towards his seat next to Mace and Ki-Adi, Obi-Wan fixed his gaze upon him. Per usual, Qui-Gon was somewhat cryptic. Obi-Wan could not tell that whether or not Qui-Gon was being supportive or insulting about his belief. Knowing Qui-Gon, however, it was more likely that he was being supportive and was making sure that Obi-Wan had the platform he needed to state his piece.

“I request that the boy be tested, Masters,” Obi-Wan said as Qui-Gon was seated.

“You wish for him to be trained as a Jedi?” Qui-Gon asked curiously.

“Finding him was the will of the Force,” Obi-Wan told them. “There is too much happening here for this to be a coincidence. If you meet him and test him, I’m sure you will come to the same conclusion and have no doubt of that.”

The Jedi Masters looked amongst themselves, trying to see if there was some sort of consensus among them. Quemin looked towards Dooku, who subtly shook his head in disagreement, and she too shook her head when looking towards Yoda. However, the majority of the others did not share that opinion and felt that there was no harm in at least testing the young man to see what skills he possessed.

“Bring him before us, then,” Mace told Obi-Wan.

The young Jedi Knight bowed in gratitude, and turned to follow Dooku out the doorway. He was very pleased that they had granted his request, though it was the easiest of the requests that he would make. Even though they would likely recognize the potential Annikin had within him, they would be hard pressed to convince the High Council to accept Annikin for training considering how old he was. Regardless, Obi-Wan felt that if Annikin was the Chosen One, then the Force would guide them to the desired and appropriate outcome, though part of Obi-Wan feared that the outcome would not be the one that he desired.

Chapter 18: Shatterpoints
In the moonlight of the evening, Utapau seemed serene and peaceful. The Gallo Mountains bustled with activity from mammalian and predatory wildlife while thousands of small and helpless critters in the grassy plains went about their routines of gathering food and bringing it to their nests. Hundreds of unique fish and other aquatic life swam effortlessly through the Paonga Sea in fluid groups of their species, while other more amphibious creatures hopped and crawled through the swamps of Lianorm.

It was unfortunate that the people of the planet were unable to say the same. Those who were fortune enough not to have been put into concentration camps were running away faster than they had ever run before. They were hiding in the caves and cliffs of the Gallo Mountains, in the murky forests of the Lianorm Swamp, on small boats in the Paonga Sea and in the rolling foothills of the Lake Country, where estates and beaches laid empty.

What the people felt was an iron grip of corporate fascism was a stranglehold on their very souls and way of life. The Trade Federation had been sucking the life out of everyone on Utapau, taking away everything that they cherished and held dear to them. When once they were a peaceful people on a magnificent world bustling with life and community-oriented activity, they had been reduced to either being imprisoned or on the run.

Even for those that were on the run, they had no real hopes of making it away from the Federation freely or alive. The mountains were frequently bombed, Federation patrol boats were searching the seas and the swamps were being ripped apart tree by tree in Nute Gunray’s tireless search for the hidden city of the Gungan Empire. The only safe, as safe as one could have been, place on the planet was the Lake Country, though most there knew that it would not take the Federation long to search such an obvious area.

Despite the searches for the escaped citizens, it was the Gungans that the Federation was most concerned about finding. The Federation knew full well that the Gungan Empire had an enormously powerful army with nearly every able-bodied male serving in it, and that was of great concern to Gunray and other Federation leaders. Though the battle droids that were conducting the search had no ability for conscious thought, many Neimoidian leaders wondered why their Viceroy was so concerned with finding them and their leader, Rugor Nass. Gunray had been avoiding answering their questions on the subject for days, much to their private vexation.

Perhaps the most brutal show of force that the Federation had shown over citizens of the planet was when they took over a factory outside of Theed. Located only a few kilometers from Theed’s Solleu River and built underground so as not to disturb the natural beauty of the planetary surroundings, the manually operated factory was serving as a refuge for escaped citizens until the Federation located it. Hundreds of battle droids flooded every square meter of the factory, taking each person captive to bring to the camps. Dozens resisted, and each were shot and killed.

Once the enormous factory, one of many spread throughout the countryside that was used for manufacturing any machinery such as vehicles and appliances that the citizens needed, was taken over by the Federation army, it immediately was put under a speedy conversion process. Where once factory workers were needed to operate the facility, Neimoidian technicians quickly and efficiently changed the programming of the machines and placed some of their own droid workers into areas that needed some form of intelligence, even if artificial, to help run it.

Some of the factory had also been used to gather minerals and resources from the Utapau underground, resources which the Neimoidians had decided to use to create additional battle droids for their army. Lord Maul had contacted Gunray while returning from Tatooine and ordered five thousand additional units, as he felt that the Utapauan would try to take back their planet. The factory was behind schedule, and Gunray knew that Maul would likely be angered by such a failure.

Despite being a slow and less modern factory by the current standards of galactic machinery, the facility did house hundreds of conveyer belts and robotic assembly arms, as well as mighty drills and digging vehicles for gathering planetary resources, and the Federation felt that the facility was more than adequate to build additional droid soldiers for their cause, something that they believed they would need if Queen Arcadia was able to make it to the Republic capital from Tatooine.

Near the entrance to the facility, Gunray and his assistant Rune Haako stood in a control room watching a group of droids being created. The office, similar to other designs on Utapau in style, had been used for the manager of the factory up until four days earlier, though he was one of the ones who were killed by the droids. Shot at point blank range, his blood was still splattered across the window as Gunray wanted a reminder of his superiority over those he deemed to be the pathetic slaves of the planet.

Catching the two Neimoidians by surprise, the door to the office slid open and Maul forebodingly strode into it. His hood covering most of his facial tattoos and the horns that adorned his head, he seemed angrier than usual, though at the same time slightly amused. Gunray and Haako had yet to hear about what he had done on Tatooine, so only their minds could fill in the blanks about what Maul was thinking at that particular moment. They had come to know him well enough to recognize that he carried either good news for their efforts, or news that they were not going to be happy to accept.

“Report, Viceroy,” Maul said in a cold and stoic tone of voice as he looked out into the facility to watch the droids being assembled.

“The conversion process was completed on schedule, Lord Maul,” Gunray said as he ever-so-slightly backed away from the supposed Sith Lord, favoring his right leg over the left due to the torture session Maul had put him through only days earlier, though the leg was healing. “We will have an additional two thousand units completed in the next few days.”

With a flare of anger in his eyes, Maul approached Gunray with a tremendous command over the powers of intimidation. The Viceroy tightly grasped his cane, assuming that Maul was going to become a bit too angry with him again, though after a moment of awkward and tense silence between them Gunray felt that it was likely he would be spared the punishment, at least for the time being.

“I ordered five thousand,” Maul growled, his fiery gaze locked on Gunray.

“I understand, My Lord,” Gunray said shakily out of fear, “but the process is taking longer than we thought with this equipment. It is out of my control.”

“I want five thousand,” Maul reminded him before giving him a not too subtle hint about their recent torture session. “Get them or you’ll find yourself in the fires of my damnation again.”

After taking a moment to stare Gunray down once more in the constant quest to inject fear into him, Maul turned and slowly made his way back towards the door. Despite his fear, Gunray found himself with a moment of courage and boldness, and he was not going to pass it up to avoid questioning the supposed Sith Lord.

“What about the two Jedi?” Gunray asked Maul, who turned around to look at Gunray again. “You promised us that they’d be dead. Are they?”

“I’m having too much fun with them to finish them off now,” Maul said with a twisted and sadistic grin forming over his face. Kenobi looked me right in the eyes and he didn’t even recognize me.”

Although they had no idea about the specifics, Gunray and Haako had been told by Maul’s master that the dark warrior had past associations with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Haako suspected that they had previously fought one another in the past, though Gunray was of the opinion that they had some sort of prior business associations that no one knew about. Whether either of them were true remained to be seen.

“You promised me that they’d be dead!” Gunray shouted, much to Maul’s amusement. “What if they come back here?”

“Then you had better hope you have the five thousand droids I demanded,” Maul reminded him apathetically, for both their sakes considering that the defense against the two Jedi was going to be a highly important point if Arcadia was to return.

Standing next to fellow Councilor Rana Quemin inside the turbo lift that would take them to the Jedi Temple prison wing, Mace was visibly uncomfortable. Despite his initial refusing during the Council meeting, she followed him anyway, and even gained the approval of other disgruntled Council members who were not happy that Mace had undertaken his mission to Kamino without their knowledge or approval. He was hardly concerned with that opinion, though, as he believed that his actions in finding the clone army would greatly benefit the Republic if the Mandalorians were to become involved in any coming situations.

Mace and Rana had never seen eye-to-eye. While Mace was certainly one of the more conservative members of the Jedi Order in terms of tradition, the elder Jedi Master did not approve of his abilities that some considered to belong to a Grey Jedi. What they mostly referred to was his preference for his own personal lightsaber form Vaapad, an alteration of the seventh form Juyo. Although he still worked on the form in an ongoing attempt to perfect it, he had always maintained that it was meant to be aggressive and powerful.

The power of Vaapad came at great risks for Mace. On more than one occasion when using it, he had been forced to immerse himself in the form which lowered his restraint against the natural darkness within him, darkness that Jedi were supposed to keep long behind an iron curtain within them. He almost had to enjoy fights and give himself over to the thrill of battle to feel the rush of winning. It was a path that led through the penumbra of the dark side of the Force itself, and it took a large degree of mastery and mental readiness to successfully come out on the other side.

For Mace, navigating the treacherous waters of the border between the light and the dark was sometimes a difficult challenge. He himself was somewhat naturally aggressive, though he was generally able to restrain it. There were some occasions when that became more difficult, and on one such occasion he was on a mission with Master Quemin. Twenty years earlier, when Mace was a young Jedi Knight and Quemin was a newly-minted Jedi Master, the Council had sent them to negotiate a small territorial dispute on New Holstice between two neighboring cities that threatened to become a small shooting war.

A few days into the negotiations, Quemin had discovered that the situation was being manipulated by a Dark Jedi warrior. While the Dark Jedi’s reasons for playing both sides were unknown, Mace and Quemin were able to track him down. The warrior, who hid his face under the shadow of his cloak which prevented them from finding out who he was, attacked them. Mace had only just begun working on Vaapad at that point, and he became cocky when trying to use it. The Dark Jedi manipulated the anger and rage that Mace had been exhibiting and nearly plunged the young Jedi Knight into darkness, though with Quemin’s help Mace was able to pull himself back out. They were also able to run the Dark Jedi off of the planet, which ended the dispute.

Quemin did not frequently think back on that situation, though it was the reason that she had a difficult time trusting Mace or his judgment in any situation, let alone when he rushed off to Kamino without the Council’s approval. Her more conservative beliefs taught her that anything close to bordering the dark side was, essentially, heretical and that it had to be dealt with, lest it face expulsion from the Jedi Order. Unfortunately for her, however, the Jedi Council did not share that particular belief when it came to Mace, which was why his somewhat unorthodox methods were tolerated.

“What type of security provisions did you establish down there?” Quemin asked, wanting to know exactly what she was going to find when they arrived in a few short moments.

“He’s inside a Force cage,” Mace told her, somewhat annoyed that she was once again questioning him in a manner that he felt was condescending, “and it’s being guarded by three Knights. There’s no way he’s getting out of that room.”

“Have you accounted for the fact that if he is a Mandalorian,” Quemin refuted with yet another critical tone of voice, “he’s obviously been trained as a warrior since birth so he will very likely be resistant to Force manipulation and have the potential to rival our Knights in swordsmanship if he finds a weapon?”

“Don’t worry,” Mace told her, becoming frustrated by her insistence. “I’m handling the situation. Everything’s under control.”

“I’ve seen your control, Master Windy,” Quemin said with a newfound sense of harshness. “If it’s any indication, then I have plenty to worry about.”

Before Mace could give any sort of response, the lift stopped and the two doors slid open in opposite directions to reveal the prison wing. Numerous cells lined the hallway, though nearly all of them were empty. The only ones that had prisoners in them would not be full for long, as the Jedi Council made it a policy to transfer all of their criminal prisoners over to planetary or government authorities after Jedi interrogators questioned the prisoners themselves. There were notable exceptions, one of them being Jango Fett.

The two Jedi Masters quickly walked down the hallway towards two large doors at the end. As they approached, the doors swung open and they stepped inside. The part of the wing they entered into was designed for more important prisoners. There was a larger interrogation room for the Jedi to question them, with a one-way mirror on one side of it for other Jedi officials to watch the questioning. On the far side of the then-sealed off interrogation room was yet another large room that held Force cages for more dangerous criminals. As Mace had made sure, Jango was in one of those cages.

As he looked to his left, Mace saw Coruscant Security Force Commander Reylan Aadaeil, who had helped him capture Fett on Nar Shaddaa, walk through the viewing room door. It surprised Mace to see Aadaeil there, as he had been unaware that he was being sent to the Temple. Standing beside the CSF Commander was a slender young attractive woman. Dressed in a black leather suit and a thick red shirt beneath it, two guns rested on her belt, one of them near a CSF badge.

“Commander Aadaeil,” Mace said as the two shook hands, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“My superiors sent me down to offer any help I can,” Aadaeil told him, all while Mace was noticing that Quemin was waiting to be introduced, “including guarding who some would like to consider a prisoner of state.”

“Commander, this is Master Rana Quemin,” Mace said as he nodded in acknowledgment to the commander’s response. “Master Quemin, this is Commander Reylan Aadaeil from the CSF. I haven’t met your friend, though.”

Standing next to Aadaeil was Vendere Dashin. Tall and slender, the twenty-six year old was a member of the noble Dashin political family of Coruscant. Her most notable ancestor was Cos Jonathan Dashin, who served as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic during the Great Sovereign Crusades. In the nearly four thousand years following the end of the war, many other members of the Dashin family served in politics, mainly in advisory roles or as the Senator of Coruscant. However, Vendere decided not to enter politics, instead favoring a job in security and defense.

“I’m Lieutenant Vendere Dashin of the Anti-Terrorism Unit,” Dashin told them. “I’m working with Commander Aadaeil and his men to make sure the suspect isn’t the cause of any attacks against Coruscant.”

“Is there even the threat of an attack?” Mace asked, puzzled as to how terrorism played into the capture of Jango Fett.

“After you left Nar Shaddaa,” Dashin said, “the comm sensors on the CSF transport picked up a transmission from a Rodian in Fett’s employ. It was sent to an unidentifiable ship in the Outer Rim Territories, but we can’t be any more specific about that. The CSF top brass called me in once they read your report about how you think Fett is a Mandalorian.”

“Do they believe that the Mandalorians are a credible threat?” Quemin asked.

“There’s been a suspicious increase in Mandalorian activity in the Outer Rim over the last few months,” Aadaeil said, using information he had only been given by the top brass a few hours earlier. “At this point, we’re not taking any risks when it comes to them.”

“All possible Mandalorian threats have been deemed credible and are now being investigated,” Dashin informed them. “The one thing we’re having trouble pinning down is whether or not Fett is a Mandalorian and, if not, who he’s working for. We were hoping that you would have more luck in an interrogation, Master Windy.”

“He may not tell me whether he’s a Mandalorian,” Mace told her, “but if he’s resistant to any Force manipulation then that’s a smoking gun.”

“I’m sorry?” Aadaeil asked.

“Mandalorians are trained to resist Force manipulation,” Mace explained, though somewhat hesitantly, “but I’ll only use that as a last resort. I’m going to try a more direct approach before anything else.”

“What do you mean?” Quemin asked, worried as to what Mace was planning.

Although he considered answering Quemin’s question, Mace turned away and made his way towards the door to the Force cage chamber. Once inside, he walked through and merely knocked on the door at the other end. When the Jedi guards opened it, he gave them instructions to bring Jango into the interrogation room and place them in the chair at the table across from where he would be seated. Though he did not look at the supposed Mandalorian as he was talking to the Jedi, Mace could feel that Jango was looking at him, as if he was enjoying his captivity.

Inside the Force cage, Jango Fett stood and watched the Jedi Master as he talked to the guards. Jango had clearly known from the moment Mace walked into his office that he was not who he had claimed to be, though it was not until Mace drew his lightsaber that he realized that he was dealing with a Jedi. Finding out that it was a Jedi Master made it all the more entertaining to him, because even though he was eventually captured it had nothing to do with overall skill, at least in his opinion. He was able to put up a good fight against a Jedi Councilor, and at the moment that was all that mattered to him.

He had been inside the cage for nearly one day, though it was not the first time he had been in one of the two-meter high octagonal tubes. He had seen the emissions of the blue and orange fields at least four or five times in the past, though never in the presence of Jedi. Regardless, it was at least comfortable, as typical cages included enough room for a detainees to either sit or stand. He had even been able to sleep in it once he adjusted himself inside it enough. It was certainly a far cry from the Desolation Alley prison on the Ooyo IV asteroid colony, and he had no complaints about that.

As the electronic field was lowered, the guards approached him and put his hand in binders. Unlike other guards in a normal prison, the Jedi calmly walked him into the interrogation room rather than ripping him from the cage and shoving him into the room. Once inside, Jango walked to the chair and sat down without the Jedi following, as they opted to stay behind in the doorway until Mace put up his hand to indicate that he wanted the guards to stay outside. Jango smiled at the show of arrogance, though it was of no matter to him. He would be able to stay in the Jedi Temple for as long as he needed to, knowing that his associates were likely plotting his eventual escape.

Mace watched Jango with a fierce determination. While he wanted nothing more than to just rip the information he needed from Jango’s mind, there were certain ethics that needed to be followed and doing that would have broken what the Jedi Council liked to consider the rights of detainees. He would have to do it the “old-fashioned way” and attempt to get Jango to tell him what he needed, though Mace promised himself that he would manipulate the captives mind if he absolutely needed to.

On the other side of the one-way mirror, Quemin stood with Aadaeil and Dashin where they would watch the interrogation. Quemin had her reservations about it, as she did not fully trust Mace, though she decided that, for the moment, she would at least entertain the possibility that he could find out imperative information. She also knew full well, though, that if Jango Fett was a Mandalorian then he knew full well that they were watching him. After all, Mandalorians were trained to assess every situation, and he would have immediately upon entry picked up on the purpose of what seemed to be a mirror in the interrogation room.

“Hello again, Mister Zavos,” Jango said sarcastically with a slight hint of a grin, “or is it Master Windy? I’m a little confused.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” Mace said coldly, not removing his determined fixation on Jango for something as minor of a sarcastic comment.

“To tell you the truth,” Jango admitted, “I knew you weren’t who you said you were as soon as you opened your mouth. I may have been living outside of Republic jurisdiction, but red-headed and incredibly obese dignitaries tend to be well-known.”

Mace stood up from his chair and paced the side of the desk for a moment. He had little concern about what Jango believed when he had first entered his office on Nar Shaddaa. That was inconsequential, as he already had Jango in custody. Regardless, it was how he went about the interrogation that was important, and he had to consider every word before uttering it in order to make sure he did not say the wrong thing.

“Who do you work for?” Mace asked, not wasting anytime beginning his questioning.

“I work for myself,” Jango told him truthfully, though it was only a half truth considering he did, in fact, own the Fett Consortium. “Twenty years ago I founded the Fett Consortium, and have been dealing in weapons manufacturing ever since. You already knew this.”

“Very nice,” Mace said after throwing Jango a laugh, though he was clearly not amused. “I’ll ask again: who do you work for? The Hutts? Black Sun? The Nockudumey Terrorists? Or is there something else a bit more...honorable...that you’re pledged to?”

Jango was intrigued by Mace’s insinuation. Clearly, he was hinting to a belief that Jango himself was a member of the Mandalorian Clans, and Jango knew this as honor was a very important part of Mandalorian culture. He wondered what it was that made the Jedi Master believe he was a Mandalorian, though he assumed he made the connection that the surname Fett was the name of a Mandalorian clan.

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting, Master Windy,” Jango lied, looking down towards the floor rather than at Mace to try to frustrate him with a lack of cooperation.

“Just tell me who you’re working for and this can all be over quickly,” Mace said, raising his voice as he started to become impatient at Jango’s persistence.

“I already told you that I work for myself,” Jango replied.

“I think you work for someone else,” Mace told him, putting his arms down on the table and leaning in closer to Jango.

“You can think whatever you want,” Jango reminded him, “but that doesn’t mean what you believe has any truth to it.”

“I know you’re lying to me,” Mace said, pointing to his head to reflect the fact that he was somehow subtly inside Jango’s mind, which quickly promoted the suspected Mandalorian to try to block Mace from his thoughts.

“I don’t know what you expect to get from me then,” Jango admitted, finally looking up at Mace with an almost angered look, as he grew tired of the same question.

“Information, Di’kut!” Mace shouted, inadvertently using a Mandalorian slur in an attempt to goad Jango into giving him the information he needed. “Do you have it?”

Jango resisted the urge to become angry upon hearing the offensive slur. It was not in his best interest to be visibly offended at such a remark. The Jedi had no evidence that Jango was a Mandalorian and he was not going to admit whether or not he was one. If he so much as even pretended to know what the word meant, it would arose suspicion and he was unable to afford that at such a critical moment.

Rather than showing any visible emotion because of the remark, Jango chose to remain silent. He had no intention of answering any of Mace’s questions to begin with, so the slur made no difference to him. The lack of response, however, fueled Mace’s frustration. He slammed his fists down on the table in front of the suspected Mandalorian, though Jango did not even flinch.

“Answer me, damnit!” Mace shouted.

Seeing the anger that was boiling through on Mace’s face intrigued Jango. The Jedi Master was clearly not the like the others; Mace’s emotions were far less restrained than that of a typical Jedi Knight. Something about Mace told Jango that he was someone he should continue to keep an eye on, although he had yet to figure out why. All he knew was that Mace had the potential to break if goaded enough.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Jango said, hoping to fuel more anger inside the Jedi Master, “I’d say you were a Dark Jedi with all of this anger. I hear the Sith were quite angry people too.”

“I’m a Jedi,” Mace said, pulling away from the table in an attempt to show some restraint. “We’re nothing like them. Everyone knows that.”

“You are unbelievably naïve, Master Windy,” Jango said, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at Mace while they spoke. “Do you think regular people actually believe that? Hardly anyone in the galaxy can recognize or even cares about the difference. See to them, you’re all Jedi. Your philosophies mean nothing.”

“You’re wrong,” Mace told him, almost with a growl.

“No I’m not,” Jango said with a grin that showcased his amusement of the situation. “I’ve lived and worked in the real world. I’ve seen sights in the slums of the most backwater planets that never reach your eyes in this ivory tower.”

“What are you talking about,” Mace asked as he moved in closer.

“People don’t respect Jedi,” Jango continued. “They fear them. They fear the power you have in the Force and they fear the political power you’ve gained. But once they stop being afraid of you, game over. Your power will be gone. If I’m lucky enough, perhaps I can help bring that about...”

The last comment not only left Mace insulted, but it left him feeling somewhat volatile as well. Reaching forward, Mace grabbed Jango by the shoulders, turned around and slammed him into mirror, not worrying that Quemin and the two security officers were standing just on the other side. Mace knew what he had just done was wrong and that it would leave him on edge for days, if not weeks, but even so it took every fiber in his being not to assault Jango. Had he been anything but a Jedi Master, he knew he likely would have attacked Jango but he forced himself to use restraint.

“Tell me what you know!” Mace shouted, his voice unrestrained despite his instinct to attack being restrained, though Jango did not respond. “Tell me!”

The door on the far end of the room swung open, and Quemin revealed herself standing on the other side of it. Mace chose not to look towards her, but even so he had no reason to. He could sense what she was thinking; Quemin believed that Mace was a liability to the Jedi Council, just as she always did. While other Jedi saw Mace as a wise Jedi Master, she saw him a loose canon. Given the current situation, he found it difficult to disagree with her.

“Put him down,” Quemin demanded, though Mace initially showed no sign of doing so. “I said put him down.”

“Careful, Master Windy,” Jango taunted. “We wouldn’t want you to get angry, now would we?”

Although such an idea seemed hard to come by, Mace knew that Jango was right. Mace was already angry and he was bordering the line between anger and infuriation, though at first he did not let him go. As Mace continued to restrain Jango, his brow began to sweat and his eyes became heavy and irritated. He closed his eyes for a moment and began seeing flashes of himself and Jango fighting on some remote world, all before seeing more flashes of Jango leading an army of warriors Mace could not make out. Then, as the flashes faded away, Mace felt as if there was a crack in the Force itself.

Instantly realizing what he was seeing, Mace let Jango go and quickly backed away. It was a Shatterpoint, something he had seen on a few other occasions throughout his life because of his unusual ability to detect them. He did not know why, but for some reason Jango was a game-changing player in a future that had yet to play out. Somehow, somewhere, Jango had the potential to become someone who would bring about great change in the galaxy and in the Force. The only downside to Shatterpoints was that they were in no way specific, and it would require days of meditation to even begin understanding what it all meant.

Stepping away from Jango even further, Mace turned and left the interrogation room. He walked past Quemin and could sense the disappointment and frustration in her. It irritated him that she held such an opinion of him, but even more than that it disappointed him that he knew she was right at least in this occasion. He had let his emotions get the better of him and he had allowed Jango to goad him into that. He had no one to blame but himself for his lack of restraint, though he could not help but feel as if there was something more sinister at work that was clouding his judgment.

“Was that your idea of handling the situation?” Quemin asked, echoing Mace’s prior comment that he was handling it and everything was under control.

Rather than acknowledging her, Mace turned and nodded to Aadaeil and Dashin, both of whom immediately entered into the interrogation room to bring Jango back into his Force cage. Mace entered into the turboshaft, letting it close quickly as he did not intend to listen to a lecture from Quemin the entire ride back up. Instead, he chose to return to his private office and meditation chambers to reflect on what had happened, and hopefully begin to unravel the mystery that was Jango Fett. He would be alone for some time, though he had no doubt that Master Yoda would come knocking on his door after Quemin reported the interrogation incident to him.

Even though Obi-Wan had warned Annikin that gaining acceptance into the Jedi Order at his age would be incredibly difficult, part of Annikin still expected the Jedi to roll out the proverbial “red carpet” for him. That expectation went away very quickly when he saw the accommodations he had been given. His temporary room located in the Temple Dormitories was nothing more than a small cubicle, the light grey surroundings devoid of color and furnishings. There was only a small bed, a sofa, a workbench and a table with one chair, all of them cramped together in the tiny living space.

Annikin looked around the room and noticed that despite the limited amount of room, there was a concealed closet that could be used to hold the limited amount of clothing he had brought with him. He had already changed into attire more common to non-farming and civilian life; he wore a brown undershirt with a dark grey jacket overtop of it. He took the jacket off and threw it onto his chair as he laid down on his bed to relax, though he quickly realized that was not likely going to happen.

The bed felt as if it was made out of durasteel, which did not in any way provided Annikin with the comfortable atmosphere that he required. Standing up, Annikin put the jacket back on and stepped out into the hallway, determined to find a place where he could get real rest for the first time in nearly a week. He had barely slept since first meeting Sarus days earlier, and even when he did sleep at the top of the catacombs in the Ophuchi Sanctuary it did not provide him the relaxation and comfort that he needed. Turning down the hall and stepping onto the nearby turbolift, he decided to make his way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains that Obi-Wan had told him about. Although he had been worried he would not have access to any part of the Jedi Temple when he had arrived, Obi-Wan had ensured that he would be allowed access to any unrestricted areas. If he was to go anywhere else, he would have had to be in the presence of an escort.

Not ten minutes later, Annikin stepped into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and he instantly knew it was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. He had known nothing but deserts and, albeit briefly, metropolitan cityscapes in his life. The room was a bustling ecosystem with hundreds of trees, blades of grass growing from the ground and dozens of different species of fish dancing in the large ponds of water scattered throughout the area. He had never seen anything like it, let alone in an artificial environment.

With the roars of the waterfalls drowning out the noises around him, Annikin did not hear Master Yoda approaching him. The small Jedi Master had been on his way to hear a report from Master Quemin when he sensed Annikin nearby, and decided to take advantage of the moment by seeing how the young man was doing. Despite having strong reservations about the truth of the Prophecy of the Chosen One, even when they had met each other briefly when Obi-Wan was showing him the Jedi Temple, Yoda knew that everything that Annikin had been told was likely overwhelming him.

“If it is the garden you seek, then troubled you are,” Yoda told him, casting an imposing figure despite his diminutive size as Annikin turned around in surprise.

“No,” Annikin said, throwing Yoda a faint laugh in the hopes of distracting him from the fact that it was a lie. “I just haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time and needed a peaceful place to relax. That’s all.”

“Understand, you must,” Yoda said, “that your thoughts are not a mystery to me. But if it is rest you seek, get in your way I will not.”

“You’re not in the way, Master Yoda,” Annikin said, this time truthfully. “I’ve felt somewhat alone since getting to Coruscant, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

“Happy to assist, I always am,” Yoda said, smiling as he gripped his cane and began to walk away, though he turned around for a brief moment to talk to Annikin once again. “Always open my door is to you, so do not hesitate to find me if necessary.”

“Thanks,” Annikin said with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

As Yoda turned away once more, Annikin started to look throughout the room again. The enormous green house took up over seven stories of the High Council quarter of the Temple, and the winding path from the main entrance took Annikin towards the foliage where Jedi were encouraged to meditate. Fountains were hidden throughout the bushes and exotic greenery, and some were made of brilliant displays in the center of the stone walk way. Obi-Wan had even told him that the High Council sometimes utilized it as a meeting place, and if a Jedi was injured they would often be taken to the gardens as a recovery spot because of the calming effects it had.

Noticing a small crevice behind a waterfall that was unoccupied, Annikin jumped across a few rocks in a fairly deep pond, only having to duck once as a bird flew close overhead, and he was able to get around the waterfall without getting wet. Climbing up into the crevice, he found that there was a large pile of leaves laid out across it, so it was obvious that others had the same idea he did. Annikin took the opportunity to lay down, hoping to find the relaxation that he was looking for.

As he stretched out, he took comfort in the cool and moist air. He had started getting used to the cooler environments ever since leaving the ship, where had been very visibly freezing, and he already liked it far more than the scorching desert. Thinking about Tatooine made him think about his family. He could only wonder what they were doing at that very moment, though it was likely they were going about their daily chores. His mother and Cliegg likely missed him, although he had no idea what Owen was thinking. His older step-brother was still probably telling himself that Annikin was making a mistake.

Shutting his eyes, Annikin smiled as he thought about his family, cherishing the memories he had with them. As he was, the darkness of sleep began to overtake him, and he very quickly slipped into his long-awaited and much needed rest. It was only a few minutes, however, until his eyes began to flutter. Visions started pouring into his mind, flashes of things that he was unable to make out. He saw armies burning cities, a nebula in the far reaches of space, and battles taking place far beyond the stars. He was well aware of what he was saying, though he could not make heads or tails of it.

As those flashes dissipated, Annikin was subjected to visions that he was able to make out better. There was a calm, peaceful and ornate hallway in what appeared to be a mansion or a palace. Pure gold adorned the walls of the ancient yet well-kept building, and an open-air environment allowed anyone who was within to look out and see a large ocean just beside the building. The peace of it was disrupted as two warriors, both wielding blue lightsabers, burst through the door fighting one another.

After another quick flash, the two fighters were outside on an island just beside the mansion. There was a furious and dangerous storm threatening to overtake them, with a storm surge producing waves that were flooding the entire area. The two warriors fight across ruins of an ancient civilization and eventually made their way onto an altar, where the fight culminated in a deadly display of their skills. As a wave grew overtop of them and threatened to kill them both, the deep sound of metallic breathing could be heard and Annikin could once again make out the silhouette of the invader from his previous dream in the Ophuchi Sanctuary.

Waking up with a gasp and in a cold sweat, Annikin became briefly panicked and tried to roll over, not remembering where he was. He rolled right off the side of the crevice, through the waterfall and into the deep pool of water beneath where he had been sleeping. As he fell through the water, he hit his head on a rock, causing him to become disoriented and briefly pass out. As he was falling unconscious, he could recognize the situation and felt as if he was going to die and that the trip to Coruscant was a wasted effort.

Just beside the pond, a young female Jedi Padawan saw Annikin fall and watched as he hit his head onto the rock. She threw her white robe to the ground and ran towards the pool of water, diving in as Annikin was sinking to the bottom of the pond. Because the water was clean and clear, she was able to see right where Annikin was and quickly swamp towards him. Grabbing him and pulling him over her shoulder, the Padawan swam back to the surface and rolled Annikin up onto the ground and towards the pathway.

Watching as a crowd was gathering beside them, the young woman prepared herself for rescue breathing, but was happy see that Annikin was already waking up. She leaned in towards him to make sure he was alright, and put her hand over her mouth when she realized he had a large cut on his head. The pain was severe for Annikin, who groaned as he woke up and tried to look around, though the brightness of the room initially kept him from seeing anything around him.

When he was able to fully regain his sight a few seconds later, Annikin looked at the girl sitting beside him. She had dark brown hair with brown eyes, and her pale skin was covered in water, as was the rest of her. Dressed in a close fitting white tunic, which accentuated her slender figure, Annikin felt she was incredibly beautiful, which temporarily took his mind off of the pain. Even so, when he thought about how grateful he was that the girl was there, the pain returned and he grabbed his head, though he instantly removed his hand when the mere touch stung worse than the pain itself.

“What’s your name?” Annikin asked, wanting to know the identity of his mysterious savior.

“Padmé,” she said with a smile, happy to see that he was well enough to make conversation. “Padmé Naberrie.”

“Thanks for saving my life, Padmé,” Annikin said, returning her kindness with a faint yet somewhat painful smile of his own.

“You’re welcome,” Padmé said, “but we need to get you to the medical quarters. That gash could get a lot worse if we don’t get it treated.”

As Annikin nodded, Padmé grabbed his arm and helped him up. It was difficult for him to stand at first, though he made his best effort to do so, especially considering the crowd that had gathered to watch him. Slightly embarrassed to be seen in such a condition, he made the extra effort to walk, though he still needed Padmé to help him stumble towards the doorway. He was grateful that she was there, though his mind was more focused on the dream that had caused his accident.

It was the second time he had such a dream and each time there was an accident involved, though the second was much worse than the first. It was as if the dreams were intentionally placed around traumatic events, though he knew full well that dreams had no way of being planted into a mind. Even so, he had already been told the Force worked in mysterious ways, so he felt that perhaps the Force was trying to tell him something. What that was would prove to be a mystery to him, though he was determined to find out what it was.

Chapter 19: Annikin and Padmé
It had only taken Padmé ten minutes to take Annikin to the Jedi Medical Corps Infirmary in the First Knowledge quarter. As they were walking back, Annikin became more attentive, which was a good sign. It told Padmé that Annikin likely did not have a concussion, nor would he have any lasting effects from nearly drowning. Even so, Annikin’s head continued to bleed, with only the pressure applied from Padmé pressing her now-stained white robe up against the gash keeping the blood from getting everywhere.

The infirmary, staffed by Jedi Healers and used to heal wounded Jedi who had returned from their missions, was a very large complex within the Jedi Temple. Annikin and Padmé sat in a small examination and operation room just past the entrance to the facility, but beyond them the infirmary was made up of a long hall dotted with bacta tanks and operation chambers. Dozens of 21-B medical droids made their way through the facility, operating the machinery and observing the few wounded patients that were resting there.

Annikin had first been treated by Jedi Knight and Jedi Healer Leeta Eisahn, who had fitted his wound with a bacta patch. The patch appeared and acted similar to a bandage, though it was slightly larger and had a faster healing process. Even so, Annikin had grown bored waiting for the process to finish, as he had been waiting for it to be completed for nearly an hour.

Despite the wait, the time passed by quickly, as he had been conversing with Padmé and he had told her about his time on Tatooine, though because he had been given orders not to reveal why he was on Coruscant Annikin refrained from telling Padmé about Sarus, the Ophuchi or the prophecy. He felt that he could trust her, but he was not about to go against those orders.

“So what about you?” Annikin asked curiously. “Your life here on Coruscant couldn’t possibly have been as boring as mine.”

“You’d be surprised,” Padmé said with a laugh, “but considering you’ve been telling me about yourself I guess it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

“I’m all ears,” Annikin said sarcastically.

“I was born on Ultaar,” Padmé explained, “and Master Windy found me only a few weeks after I was born. He took me as his Padawan when I was twelve, but there’s not much more to tell after that.”

“I’ve heard of Ultaar,” Annikin said, wincing as he touched the bacta patch despite knowing that he was not supposed to. “Did he find you in one of those famous fields of flowers?”

“No, actually,” Padmé said as she momentarily lowered her gaze, her tone sad yet reflective as she thought about the past. “He found in me in a shelter...where I was put after my parents died in a civil war. The war was why Master Windy was there.”

Annikin saw how Padmé’s features fell as she was reminded of her parents, noting that it was apparently difficult for her to talk about her parents. That surprised him, as everything he had so far been told about Jedi was that they had little connection to their parents so they would not form attachments. Still, he understood that it must have been difficult for her knowing that her parents were killed in a conflict that spared her, regardless of whether she had any previous attachments to them.

“I’m sorry,” Annikin said, regretting that he had even brought up the past.

“Don’t be,” Padmé said as she looked back up towards him, “unless you’re the one who set the bomb that destroyed the capital building and started the war.”

Before Annikin could respond, the door slid open and Leeta Eisahn walked in. She was a tall and slender woman, nearly two meters tall, and as a Zeltron she had dark red skin and lighter red hair. Zeltrons were always said to be attractive, and Leeta was no exception to that precedent, although Annikin was not particularly in the mood to be thinking about whether his doctor was attractive or not.

“Your wound should be healed by now,” Leeta told him optimistically as she walked towards him, placing a datapad with Annikin’s medical information onto a table as she went. “Let’s get that patch off of you.”

Annikin squirmed as the patch was removed from his face, the stinging sensation bothering him as the bacta was slowly ripped away. When the path was finally gone, he put his hand to his head and felt nothing but a faint cut, although he could still feel some of the pain. Even with it, it was nothing that would bother him other than in the form of mild irritation every so often. Annikin was embarrassed to have been in such a position, especially in front of someone like Padmé whom he was only just getting to know, although she thankfully did not know that it was his second injury from a dream in only a few days.

“There,” Leeta said as she threw the patch into a small garbage bag, “that didn’t hurt very much, did it?”

“Not at all,” Annikin said awkwardly, still somewhat squirming from the sting while turning towards Padmé as Leeta left the room to officially discharge Annikin. “Thanks for your help, Padmé.”

“You’re welcome,” Padmé said smiling, “now come with me. I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

“I should actually probably be getting back to my quarters,” Annikin said, standing up from where he was seated to leave for his cramped dwelling. He had already gotten himself hurt by roaming around, and despite having permission to do so he did not want to take anymore chances.

“Don’t worry,” Padmé told him, “you won’t get into any trouble if I give you an extended tour. I was actually in the Room of a Thousand Fountains because Master Windy asked me to show you around a bit and make you feel welcome.”

Annikin was surprised to hear that. The whole time they were in the infirmary, Annikin was grateful that Padmé had been there to help him, but he had assumed it was just a random coincidence. Even though she had been asked, he felt it was nice of her to make him feel welcome, which she was certainly succeeding at. For some reason, every moment he spent with her made him feel more welcome, and such a feeling confused him. Even so, he wanted to explore it more, because he was certainly enjoying spending time with her, despite the circumstances that they had met under.

“Well in that case,” Annikin told her as he walked towards the doorway, “I’m right behind you.”

The day had passed by quicker than Obi-Wan originally expected it to. He had little sleep the night before so he was fatigued for the duration of the day, as he had been dwelling over Annikin’s impending tests by the Jedi Council. He worried that the Council would not be able to look past their ancient codes and traditions on the age an apprentice must be when accepted into the Jedi Order, and although he agreed with them in that respect on almost every occasion, Obi-Wan hoped he was not the only one who would be willing to overlook that particular rule in regards to Annikin.

The stressed Jedi Knight had wandered through the halls of the Jedi Temple for over an hour before finding himself on a balcony overlooking the setting of the sun Coruscant Prime, and he found it somewhat peaceful. It was a relaxing environment, despite the thousands of speeders flying by and the array of noises coming from across the capital city. Even so, Obi-Wan had always felt comfortable on Coruscant. Even though Dantooine was the world of his birth, Coruscant was the one place he could call home, especially considering he had no recollection of his limited time on Dantooine.

As the cool evening wind brushed through Obi-Wan’s shoulder-length hair, the sound of the breeze still was unable to drown out the hum of even the most distant traffic lanes that he could see in virtually every direction. The long lines of ships and speeders were backlit by the orange glow of the setting sun, intermingling themselves with the clouds scattered throughout the area. Obi-Wan took in all of the sites as he leaned against the cool stone railing inscribed with the ornamental patter of aesthetic significance to the Jedi Order.

Looking out towards the sunset, Obi-Wan continued thinking about Annikin as he leaned heavily against the railing. It had not only been the absolute sense of truth in Sarus’s words that convinced Obi-Wan that Annikin was the Chosen One. Ever since he had met Annikin, there had been a lingering sense that there was something different about him. Obi-Wan felt as if there was an aura of destiny around the young man, one that set him apart from anyone else Obi-Wan had ever encountered before. Although that, of course, was not enough to convince a learned Jedi Knight that a young man from Tatooine was destined to be the savior of an entire galaxy.

Although it had taken some convincing for Obi-Wan to accept, it was the undeniable connections between Annikin and the ancient prophecies that allowed Obi-Wan to officially recognize that Annikin had to be the Chosen One. He had started to believe it in the cave sanctuary after Sarus had recited the prophecies, although he did not fully believe it until the return trip to the Lars homestead, during which time Sarus had told Obi-Wan the story about Annikin’s virgin birth that was later confirmed by Annikin’s mother.

Obi-Wan knew full well how the Council would feel, even if he did not side with them. Many would follow the beliefs of Dooku, stating that the Sith could not possibly exist because they had been rendered extinct in the years following the New Sith Wars. Others who were more open minded in that regard would instead turn to the legitimacy of the prophecy and tell him that there were hundreds of old prophecies and legends that were handed down through the millennia as part of Jedi lore, and if Obi-Wan tried to convince them using the beliefs of the Ophuchi then the legitimacy would fall further into question.

Despite what he kept trying to convince himself was his own self-confidence in the matter, Obi-Wan did have moments of doubt. When he would think about what the Council would say to him, he briefly found himself wondering if their likely arguments were the truth. He would ask himself, what if Dooku was actually right? What if Obi-Wan gave too much credit to his “pet projects”? For all Obi-Wan knew, perhaps Annikin was truly destined to be a farmer and a “remember him” swoop racer in Tatooine. But Obi-Wan refused to accept that. He knew in his heart what the truth was, despite what anyone else told him.

There was also some sense of worry. Obi-Wan wondered if training Annikin in the way of the Jedi was the right thing to do. After all, hopefuls were not accepted after infancy because of the attachments that normal people form. Training in the Order after more than a year of life was likely doomed to fail, and at eighteen years old Obi-Wan could only hope that Annikin would be able to let go of those expected Human emotions. If he was unable to, then the truth was that Obi-Wan had no idea what would happen.

Standing at the entryway to the balcony, Qui-Gon Jinn watched his young friend contemplating the coming decisions the Jedi Council would have to make. Qui-Gon could empathize with him, as he knew that Obi-Wan likely received the traits that had led him to Annikin from Qui-Gon’s unofficial mentoring years earlier. Qui-Gon did not regret passing those qualities onto Obi-Wan, as he believed it was something that would suit the Jedi Order well if more Jedi adopted them, although he did not see that happening.

As Obi-Wan gazed into the endless horizon of skyscrapers, the sun finally preparing to make a final descent beneath the horizon for the day, Qui-Gon approached him. He placed a comforting hand on the Jedi Knight’s shoulder, startling Obi-Wan for a moment. When Obi-Wan saw who it was, however, he became relaxed once again and continued with his thoughts, although he listened for whatever it was Qui-Gon would likely say to him.

“I sense something troubling you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said comfortingly.

“I’m worried that Annikin will not pass the Council’s tests,” Obi-Wan told him, not hesitating to open up to Qui-Gon. “I fear that they will reject him based on his age alone.”

“Annikin will become a Jedi,” Qui-Gon assured him, “I promise you.”

“But you seemed skeptical when you entered the Council chambers yesterday,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “What changed your mind?”

“Nothing,” Qui-Gon said. “In situations like that when I do not have all of the facts, I try to remain impartial. You know this. Now that we’re out here together, though, I can state my opinion a bit more freely.”

Obi-Wan smiled as he finally turned to face his self-described mentor. Qui-Gon had a way of making Obi-Wan feel more comfortable about tense situations, something that Dooku was never able to do. This situation was no exception; whereas Dooku was snide and dismissive of Obi-Wan’s belief in Annikin’s potential, Qui-Gon was supportive. It was one of the many reasons that Obi-Wan had wished Qui-Gon had been his master rather than Dooku. Things may have turned out much differently in their lives.

“I’m still surprised you are even on the Council, to be honest,” Obi-Wan admitted, although not for the first time. “Your opinions have never been in line with theirs.”

“I am simply fortunate that Yoda and a few persuasive others were more open to hearing alternate points of view”, Qui-Gon said smiling, “even if they don’t tend to follow my opinions through to conclusion.”

“But they are not just points of view, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, his voice reflecting his confidence in Qui-Gon’s opinions. “You and I both know that our shared beliefs on the Living Force and other Jedi philosophies are the right ones.”

“And other Jedi know that their beliefs are the right ones as well,” Qui-Gon reminded him. “As you continue to get older, you will find that many of the truths we all cling to are greatly dependent on our own points of view. What we consider the truth is a fallacy to others, and vice-a-versa.”

Obi-Wan pondered what Qui-Gon had to say for a moment. He understood what the Jedi Master was telling him, though it was one of the first times that he had heard a lesson like it. Obi-Wan frequently recognized how arrogant Dooku was in his system of beliefs, so Obi-Wan could understand why Dooku would not give him such a lesson, even if he did not agree with Dooku’s reasoning for not doing so.

“I suppose I never thought of it that way,” Obi-Wan said. “I never really had lessons like these from Jard. He is deadset on believing that his opinions are the absolute truth.”

“For example?” Qui-Gon asked.

“His opinion on Annikin, for starters,” Obi-Wan continued. “He won’t believe that Annikin is the Chosen One because he is not even willing to accept the idea that the Sith may not be extinct.”

Qui-Gon was intrigued by what Obi-Wan had told him, for a variety of reasons. Qui-Gon had extensively studied the final encounters of the Sith and the Jedi and, years earlier, had recognized that the Sith may have escaped absolute extinction, thus making a Chosen One necessary, although it was not something Qui-Gon spoke openly about. Instead, as he turned and leaned his back against the balcony railing, he wished to know more about what Dooku had to say on the matter.

“For what reason?” Qui-Gon asked.

“He argues that believing the way I do is disrespectful to Alsius Hoth and Valenthyne Farfalla,” Obi-Wan told him, “as if it somehow dilutes their sacrifices.”

“Those Jedi died for all of us,” Qui-Gon reminded him. “Regardless of whether the Sith are extinct or not, their sacrifices will never be in vain.”

“Tell Jard that,” Obi-Wan said, somewhat spitefully.

“I think I just did,” Qui-Gon said with a hint of regret.

Not knowing what Qui-Gon meant, Obi-Wan turned towards the doorway where he saw Dooku standing there. Obi-Wan fidgeted nervously as he awaited Dooku’s response, though he kept his jaw set as he looked Dooku right in the eye. After so many years, he could not bring himself to care. He found no reason to listen to Dooku unless it was a direct order being given from the Jedi Master, and even then Obi-Wan would have to carefully consider following it through if it pertained to something he did not believe in. It was unfortunate that their relationship had come to that, but it was a fact of life in their time together.

Dooku was visibly angry about the exchange, not hiding it as he walked towards Qui-Gon. The two Jedi Masters had been friends for many years, and Dooku felt that he could trust Qui-Gon in most respects. A younger Qui-Gon had once defended Dooku before the Jedi Council years earlier when Dooku was brought before them for his unorthodox training methods, although he was a timid supporter at best considering many of the implications of Dooku’s beliefs. Despite this, it allowed a trust to grow, and although it was almost ruptured when he found Qui-Gon giving Obi-Wan training while Obi-Wan was still Dooku’s Padawan, there was not a rift between them as Qui-Gon had seemingly agreed to stop. From what Dooku could see, this was not the case.

“Years ago,” Dooku said with an angered and upset tone, “when you decided to give Obi-Wan additional training while he was still my apprentice, I asked you to stop. Do you remember what you said?”

“I recall agreeing to your request,” Qui-Gon told him.

“But I can see now that you did not acquiesce to my request,” Dooku said.

“I’ve been a mentor to young Obi-Wan only when he’s come to me asking for guidance and assistance,” Qui-Gon informed him, “nothing more.”

“Nonsense!” Dooku shouted. “He would have come to me for guidance.”

“That’s not true,” Obi-Wan said, wondering why Dooku would think that. “I’ve never been able to come to you for guidance because you’ve always been dismissive of my beliefs and opinions. I went to Qui-Gon because I knew that if I opened up to him, I wouldn’t be mocked or ridiculed.”

“How dare you,” Dooku asserted with almost a venomous hiss of a tone.

“And that response is just an example of what Obi-Wan is saying,” Qui-Gon interjected, becoming somewhat aggressive in his way of speaking. “He tells you the truth about how he feels about your mentorship only to have you begin criticizing him for it. How can you possibly deny that?”

If there was one thing that Dooku disliked more than anything else, it was an invasion of privacy. He had always tried to be a private man within the Jedi Order, even going so far as trying to give other people their privacy unless he found room for a justifiable opinion, but it seemed harder and harder to come by. He felt that modern people, even Jedi, were so exposed, peered at, inquired about and spied upon as to be increasingly without privacy, as if they were members of a naked society and denizens of a fish bowl.

“How I taught my former Padawan is of no concern to you, Jinn,” Dooku scowled. “It’s my own business. My privacy is not something I’m merely entitled to, but an absolute prerequisite for dealing with me! I don’t want the Jedi Council to be discussing private affairs of a master-Padawan relationship behind my back. It’s bad enough that our government invades the privacy of every person in this Republic for their own twisted gains without the Jedi Council doing anything about it, but I would have expected more from someone like you.”

“What in the blazes are you talking about,” Obi-Wan asked, having heard Dooku say nothing of the sort in the past, or at least never in any occasion he could think of.

“What I have been trying to tell you for years,” Dooku told him, “only to have you turn a blind eye to it. There is a phantom menace in our Republic that acts as an invisible government which, like the giant Lake Spirits of Mimban, sprawls its tentacles over our cities and planets. At the head is a small group of banking houses that run our government for their own selfish ends. They operate under the cover of a self-created tarp and seize our executive offices, legislatures, schools, courts, media and every agency created for the protection of the public. In the end, the idea of personal privacy in today’s society is a façade to keep us from accepting the fact that every intimate detail of our lives can be seen by the corrupt bureaucrats in our government.”

“If you hate it that much,” Obi-Wan said with a faint scowl of his own, “then why don’t you just leave the Republic?”

Dooku approached Obi-Wan, standing closer to him to look him straight in the eyes. The comment nearly infuriated Dooku at first, but after a few moments of consideration he could recognize what could have been the truth. He was forced to ask himself, what if stepping aside was the only way to avoid current society. It could have been the only way for him to escape scrutiny and escape the corruption of the Republican government, and as he left the balcony for his own solitude he knew that it would require a great deal of consideration on his part.

Skillfully slipping past a few Senate colleagues that he preferred not to speak with at the moment, Valorum entered into the Entry Hallway of the Chancellor’s Suite within the upper levels of the Senate offices with his usual grace. The long silver hallway behind him was lined by Doric columns and a sparkling quartz floor that reflected the light from the moon and the stars viewable in the roof-sized open window above it. An exotic statuette in the center of the hallway was a sight to behold, the design depicting an ancient alien race that historians were as yet unable to identify.

The Entry Hallway itself was a brilliant red setting with a purple trimming and hue. Many of Valorum’s political enemies liked to joke that the red represented malice and wrath, though Valorum himself preferred to think of it with other meanings; willpower, courage, leadership, passion and friendship were among them. Either way, he felt it to be a comforting welcome every day, allowing him to instantly become relaxed, if only somewhat, during his stressful tenure each time he walked into the suite.

Behind a computerized desk in the center of the entry hall was his young, lovely Senior Administrative Aide, Sei Taria. Petite with golden skin and almond-shaped eyes, Valorum noted her for her fondness of expensive, septsilk-made clothing. One of those items of clothing, a dark purple blouse, was what she was wearing as Valorum walked in. Taria had also learned a great deal about her position from Senator Palpatine and Valorum was fortunate that his long-time friend was able to guide her.

Although Palpatine had helped her, Valorum felt responsible for bringing her into the public eye. Taria was the one implicated in the supposed sex scandal that was clouding Valorum’s term as Supreme Chancellor, and her name was being dragged through the mud by political adversaries who would stop at nothing to ensure that Valorum was ousted from power before he could so much as even resign with dignity, if that need ever arose. Although Valorum had once had a brief romantic relationship with his aide, he broke it off with her after only a few weeks to avoid any potential awkwardness and workplace conflicts of interest.

“Good evening, Chancellor,” Taria said as she looked up from her console, giving him a smile as she was always happy to see him. Although she would never admit it in public, there were times when Taria sometimes wished that Valorum had not broken off their relationship, as she continued to have feelings for him.

“Good evening,” Valorum responded in the semi-cold tone that he was generally known for, although Taria had gotten used to that many years earlier. “Is everyone assembled in my office?”

“Yes, sir,” Taria replied, keeping a formal and business-like tone of voice that constantly hid her true feelings from her boss. “They arrived twenty minutes ago.”

“Very good,” the Chancellor told her. “If I receive any calls, make sure that they know that I’m in a meeting and will contact them tomorrow.”

“Of course, sir,” Taria replied, noting his request in her communication journals.

Flashing a rare warm and friendly smile to thank his aide for her valued assistant, Valorum strode around the desk and approached the large durasteel blast door that separated the entry hall from his ceremonial office used for public meetings. As he stood in wait, one of the two dark blue-robed Senatorial guards, wielding a signature force pike that acted as a combination of a form of vibro-blade and blaster capable of knocking over even the strongest of Wookiees with a single shock, turned to a datapad on the door and entered the unlocking combination. The door before Valorum slid open, allowing him to enter with a confident demeanor that let him hide the fact that he was unsure what to do with the current conflicts in the Republic.

The durasteel door reminded him of the rest of the office: somewhat cold given the spartan design, and a stark contrast to the warm and bright feeling of the entry hall. Despite this, Valorum felt comfortable in it, as if it was his home. The long, wall-sized window on the far end of the office behind his desk allowed him to be given a panoramic over the skyline of the city and collect his thoughts. If he paid enough attention to the constant sounds from the outside world, beyond the information bubble created by public office, he could hear the loud sounds of crime in the quiet nights, knowing that although most within the upper levels of the city’s buildings were happy, just below them lived sorrow. It was only the people, thousands of whom sped by his office every day and night, that seemed to be the signals of solution in the sky.

Valorum’s assembled guests, which included Palpatine, Senator Bail Prestor Organa of Alderaan, Senator Wilhuff Tarkin of Eriadu, Minister of Information Pollux Hax and the fellow Human diplomat Aay Zavos, stood up from their seats in respect as the Chancellor entered, a tradition that had dated back thousands, if not millions of years when dealing with political figures of higher rank. After Valorum quickly pranced up the small set of stairs leading to his desk, the other officials collected themselves in their seats, and Valorum shut off the data feeds running from his desk to his private offices a few doors down and beneath the Senate chambers.

“Chancellor!” Senator Wilhuff Tarkin abruptly stated, not wasting any time getting to the business of the meeting. “We have - ”

“I know what you’re going to say, Senator Tarkin,” Valorum told him, cutting off the impatient and impulsive Senator of Eriadu before he could speak any further, “but one crisis at a time, please. First, Senator Palpatine, do you have any new information regarding the conflict on Utapau?”

“There are reports that the Federation has taken over a number of underground facilities and converted them into makeshift droid foundries,” Palpatine explained, nervously and visibly uncomfortable due to the nature of the conflict on his homeworld. “I believe that they are attempting to increase their numbers out of fear of further Jedi intervention.”

The tall yet gaunt Eriadu Senator Tarkin, with moderately-lengthened hair and features that were still somewhat youthful, rolled his large blue eyes at the reminder that the Jedi had been brought into the situation. Tarkin, alongside Senator Organa, was the Co-Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee and his right-wing beliefs caused him to feel that the Jedi pacifism merely got in the way of critical military operations. He frequently pointed to the war against the Mandalorians and the wars against the Sith thousands of years earlier that nearly proved to be the end of the Republic, although he did note that there were some occasions, such as the Stark Hyperspace War, where he felt that the Jedi were at least somewhat useful. These same beliefs were held by his cousin and immediate Senatorial predecessor, the late Ranulph Tarkin.

“Bah!” Tarkin shouted, with the others in assembly half-expecting him to spit at and curse the mentioning of the Jedi ambassadors Valorum had sent. “They never should have been brought into this situation to begin with. They were sent to negotiate and they’ve only made matters worse.”

“They rescued our Queen Arcadia from potential execution,” Palpatine calmly reminded him, not wanting to fight fire with fire. “Had she been killed, the Federation may have very likely succeeded in their plot by now.”

“Either way,” Valorum interjected, “whether or not the Jedi were helpful is irrelevant. Can you confirm Senator Palpatine’s reports, Minister Hax?”

The peculiar-looking, Chandrilan-born Minister of Information leaned forward, his purple and silver robes and headwear catching everyone’s attention, just as it always did. He was originally a planetary representative on Chandrila, but eventually relinquished that post in favor of a position within the Ministry of Information. Once Valorum was elected, Hax was appointed and subsequently confirmed as Minister of Information for the Valorum administration.

“Quite frankly, Your Excellency,” Hax began, “I can’t figure out where the Senator received his information. None of my people have been able to infiltrate the Federation blockade.”

“I have operatives on the planet sending me the information over a coded frequency,” Palpatine assured him, although Hax was somewhat suspicious of the claim. “They report to me and only to me. That is why I am able to gain the information that we require.”

“How have you managed to avoid the communication disruption?” Hax inquired.

“Minister,” Palpatine said with a laugh, “I make a point not to ask too many technical questions. All I know is that they were able to give me the information we need.”

Hax conceded the point, although he was dumbfounded as to how it was actually carried out. His own operatives had not yet devised a way to break through the Federation communication disruptors stationed on the planet, so he did not know how Palpatine’s men were able to do so. Either it worked differently on their end of the disruption, or Palpatine was being less than truthful with him.

“If what Senator Palpatine says is true,” Tarkin said, “then the Federation is clearly prepared for a much larger offensive. We cannot allow one corporation to have a stranglehold over this Republic. They must be crushed with one swift stroke.

“I agree,” the fiery-haired and morbidly obese Aay Zavos added, barely able to shift in his chair due to his immense weight. “The debate is over. We must cripple the Federation’s military powers before they attempt to do so to ours. It’s the only way to prevent a war.”

The tall and tan-skinned Alderaanian Senator Bail Organa, husband of the planet’s Queen Breha Antilles-Organa, had been patiently waiting for an opportunity to speak, scratching his goatee in curiosity as those he felt to be war-mongers continued their tirades against peace. At forty-five years of age, Organa was the comparatively young left-wing Co-Chairman of the Armed Services Committee and consistently pushed for less military funding and more diplomatic measures against the Republic’s enemies, as well as the reduction of the size of planetary militias and security forces. He felt that while the militias were necessary for violence on their own planets, they were no longer needed for greater Republican use.

“Unfortunately, the debate is not over,” Organa finally stated forcefully yet calmly as he positioned himself in his seat in a commanding way. “You cannot prevent and prepare for war at the same time. It’s a paradox. Bloodshed is not the only way of ensuring peace. I believe firmly that there is nothing that war has ever achieved that we could not better achieve without it.

“Oh please,” Tarkin mocked, leading Bail to subtly roll his eyes at yet another one of their frequent arguments over the merits of military force. “Your bleeding-heart pacifism has no place here. You’re the Co-Chairman of the Armed Services Committee, so you’ve seen the intelligence reports. Don’t let your left-wing politics prevent you from seeing reality. The threat of force alone will, I assure you, cause our enemies to back down, but even if it doesn’t then we can carry out that threat to the fullest extent.”

“I do see reality, Wilhuff,” Organa assured him, “and that reality is that we don’t even have a standing army capable of being amassed quickly enough to engage the Federation. Our fullest extent, as you called it, would be throwing security guards at them, and if that fails, which is likely, we have nothing left for planetary defense purposes.”

“Yes,” Hax interrupted, “a lack of an army was one of the unfortunate setbacks of the Ruusan Reformations. No offense to His Excellency’s ancestors, of course.”

“None taken,” Valorum said, raising his hands to assure the minister of his words before continuing to listen to the rest of the conversation in the hopes of making an educated decision on the matter.

Hax had been referring to Tarsus Valorum’s Ruusan Reformations a thousand years earlier, measures that drastically changed elements of the Republic. One of these changes was the dissolving of the Republic Military and giving the planetary governments permission to create small defensive forces for use on their worlds. Tarsus Valorum also made laws against the creation of large armies and mass stockpiles of weapons. He felt that all of this was done for the betterment of the Republic and the possibility of long-lasting peace, though others such as Tarkin, Hax and Zavos felt that it was counter-productive to Republic defense.

“My operatives have confirmed Jedi Master Windy’s reports from Kamino,” Hax continued. “There is a clone army that we could take command of immediately and use to not only disable, but utterly decimate the Federation forces.”

“Out of the question,” Organa asserted.

“And let us not forget that the Federation is not the only problem,” Zavos said, his fat lower neck seemingly bouncing as he talked and ignored Organa’s protests. “The Ministry of Information and the Anti-Terrorism Unit at CSF have both become gravely concerned about this newfound Mandalorian threat, and the criminal elements that I keep track of seem to be indicating that they are somehow involved with these Mandalorians. If they attempt to attack us, we will need those clones.”

“I curse the words I am about to say, Chancellor,” Palpatine told Valorum, “but I am forced to agree with my colleagues. Normally I would agree with Senator Organa, but we need forces that we can use to defend ourselves, if nothing else.”

The group paused for a moment, as if they were going to let Valorum make a decision. He welcomed that pause as he needed a moment to collect the thoughts that were racing through his head faster than a transport in hyperspace, although he felt he already knew what he was going to do. Although he preferred peace, the current situations made him feel inclined to support the use of force and launch an attempt to get the Senate to approve the use of clones, despite how difficult that would be. Confident in his decision, he looked up from his thoughts to address the assembled politicians and diplomats.

“Send a detachment of our security commanders to Kamino,” Valorum ordered. “I have no authority to order the use of these clones without the approval of the Senate, but I want men there to take control of the army if we need it.”

“I’ll have our best men on a transport within the hour, Your Honor,” Tarkin acknowledged.

“Good,” Valorum continued. “I have also ordered a group of our top scientists to begin working on a way to control the battle droids, specifically these droidekas, but so far little progress has been made. Now, if there is nothing else, I have some work to do before I call an emergency Senate session tomorrow to hear Queen Arcadia’s claims about the crisis.”

The assembled dignitaries quickly stood up from their seats, save for Zavos whose grotesque size caused him to take more than a few moments to force himself off of the chair and into a standing position, and bowed in respect towards the Chancellor, who replied with a nod. Once he did, the guests turned and left, the door being opened by two guards who were inside of the office.

Although the others left, Organa hesitated and stayed behind. He felt that the Chancellor had made a rash decision, and despite seeing why Valorum made that decision Organa still felt that it was necessary to have the last word. Organa’s word was frequently drowned out by the hawkish voices that surrounded him, so he relished any opportunity to be the one to sway opinion in wartime.

“Chancellor,” Organa said, inadvertently startling Valorum who had already turned to watch the nighttime traffic at his panoramic window.

“Yes, Senator Organa?” Valorum asked as he turned back towards the Senator.

“There is little difference in whether destruction is brought about under the flag of dictatorship,” Organa told him worriedly, his brow sweating due to the actions he feared the Republic would take, “or the flag of freedom and democracy.”

“Yes, Bail, I know that,” Valorum admitted. “The real difference is that I find myself without a choice in the matter.”

“Chancellor,” Organa said as he looked Valorum straight in the eye, offering a faint and supportive smile before telling him, with a tone weighted with passion, what Breha frequently reminded him of, “you always have a choice.”

Organa left the office as Valorum began considering what the Alderaanian Senator had told him. Valorum liked to believe that he always had a choice in any decision he made, but in this case he did not feel like that was true. From his understanding of the situation, diplomacy would do nothing and complete inaction would only lead to further suffering and death on Utapau, and a possible Mandalorian invasion. He could not let that happen, and in order to ensure that it did not then he needed to follow through on the course that he had ordered only a few minutes prior.

Continuing their walk through the halls of the Jedi Temple, Annikin still did not know where Padmé was taking him. On every side of the hall, he could see numerous different training sessions. Children of various different species who were as young as what seemed to be four years old were performing a variety of tests such as basic levitation and lightsaber training, as well as other beginners lessons provided for Jedi Younglings. Other Padawans who were older were performing more advanced skills with the Force and a lightsaber, their masters helping them each step of the way.

Annikin could almost picture himself in such positions, with Obi-Wan guiding him through the intricacies of the Force. Although Annikin had been resistant at first, spending time in the Jedi Temple helped him to begin accepting that he could possibly have a place in the Jedi Order, whether it was as the greatest of saviors or the most mild-mannered of average Jedi Knights.

Rounding a corner, Annikin inadvertently collided with a fast-paced Jedi, both of them startled as they nearly fell to the ground. The young, nineteen year old Jedi Padawan took little notice of Annikin or Padmé at first, the latter of whom was shaking her head as she held back a slight giggle, instead brushing himself off and straightening up his meticulously neat tan tunic and brown undershirt. He shook the back of his long brown robe, hoping that he had not scuffed it up when the two young men had collided.

“Oops,” the Padawan eventually said, “sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” Annikin said, looking over to Padmé whose slightly tense facial features indicated that she was still amused by the predicament. “Just look where you’re going next time.”

The Jedi Padawan ran off down the next hall, darting past other Jedi to avoid hitting them. Annikin was left bewildered, not knowing why the other Jedi was in such a rush, and because he had no idea who the young man was. He still had met only a few people, most of them being the occasional Jedi Master that Obi-Wan and Padmé had pointed out to him, so he had no way of being familiar with other younger people that dwelled in the Jedi Temple.

“Who was that?” Annikin asked as Padmé finally regained the full composure she was desperate to maintain during the brief predicament.

“Oh, that’s Selu Kraen,” Padmé replied, using the shorthand name of Selusda Kraen, the apprentice of Jedi Master Plo Koon. “He’s another Padawan here.”

“Where could he be going in such a rush?” Annikin wondered aloud as the two continued to walk down the hallway towards a large blue and gray metallic door.

“I don’t know,” Padmé explained, although she could take an educated guess, “but it’s probably to try and curry favor with the Jedi Council. He’s so determined to be a great Jedi, I swear he could break both of his legs looking for a way to do it. Oh, here we are.”

Padmé had become distracted as they approached the door, but she noticed it before accidentally passing it by. Once they stopped in front of it, she activated a console and pressed an entry code, allowing her to gain admittance inside. When they walked in, Annikin realized it was a training facility, with numerous students and trainers in a large melee free-for-all in the center. The strongest seemed to be a Jedi Padawan, equipped with a green training saber, who appeared to be defeating all of his competitors and trainers.

The Sparring Arena was a bowl-shaped chamber completed with tan stone floors and walls, reflecting a design that was likely based on ancient Jedi architecture from when the Order headquartered itself on Ossus. Padawans, and higher ranking Jedi if necessary, used the facility to hone their skills with both lightsabers and the Force. When in training, Padawans were frequently put through several different challenges, such as deflecting blaster bolts or striking down training droids. All of this led to battles against lightsaber practice droids that could simulate real-life combat, although the Padawan using the chamber that Annikin and Padmé occupied seemed to be far more advanced than training droids, considering he was fighting against half a dozen other competitors.

As Annikin stepped in further, an ignited lightsaber came flying towards him, forcing him to abruptly leap out of the way and land on the ground in terror, the lightsaber itself slamming and piercing itself into the wall above him only to come sliding down just beyond his feet. The Padawan who threw it, the impressive Crispin Hadaack who had only just recently returned from assisting Yoda and Mace Windy on the Jedi flagship Chu’unthor, realized his mistake and stopped in his tracks.

“Oh damn,” Crispin shouted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you walk in.”

“It’s alright,” Annikin said as he nodded in forgiveness, all while Crispin seemingly started to walk towards him. “I - ”

Rather than making sure Annikin was alright, a nervously sweating Crispin instead briskly yet gallantly ran over to Padmé, inspecting her to make sure she was unhurt. Even though Crispin was mostly just ensuring that Padmé was, in fact, unharmed, Annikin could not help but notice that he seemed to be looking at her more strongly than someone would have had they simply been concerned for her safety. Crispin seemed to exhibit feelings for Padmé, and Annikin did not like that. Annikin had no idea why he felt that way, but it was as if he had become jealous. He barely knew Padmé, but it seemed to tell him that he was already developing feelings for her.

“Really, Padmé, I’m so sorry,” Crispin said apologetically. “I could’ve really hurt you.”

“It’s alright, Crispin,” she told him. “It’s Annikin you should be apologizing to. He’s the one you almost hit.”

“You’re right,” Crispin said as he turned towards Annikin with his hand extended, an overly self-confident smile having etched itself across his youthful features. “Crispin Hadaack. Good to meet you, Annikin.”

“You too,” Annikin said, grasping his hand in a firm and polite grin to assure the Padawan that he truly did forgive him for the mishap.

“So what brings you to the Jedi Temple?” Crispin asked, noting the worn-out street jacket, shirt and slacks that Annikin was currently wearing. “You don’t much look like a dignitary or anyone associated with one.”

“Well,” Annikin started to say before briefly pausing, having been taken aback by Crispin’s bluntness about his attire, “to tell you the truth, I might be trained as a Jedi. Padmé’s been showing me around the Temple.”

“Trained?” Crispin asked curiously, his eyebrow cocked at the suggestion of a violation of the Jedi Code such as that. “I don’t think so. The Council doesn’t approve of training people unless they’re still infants.”

Although Annikin did not outwardly show the awkwardness of the increasingly tense yet cordial conversation, Padmé could sense that Annikin was uncomfortable with the subject. Nevertheless, she did agree with Crispin. It had struck her as odd that Annikin was under consideration to be trained. She could not see the majority of the Jedi Council, least of all her own Master Windy, approving of training someone so old. It never happened, and even when it did it was only under the rarest and most extraordinary of circumstances. The retraining of Revan during the Jedi Civil War was the only instance she could think of offhand.

“You’ll have to forgive Crispin’s abruptness,” Padmé told Annikin in an effort to end the conversation. “He’s the proclaimed ‘Jedi Golden Child’, so he thinks that he has all the answers to life’s questions.”

“I only think that because it’s true,” Crispin reminded her, throwing her a wink that Annikin still did not approve of, causing him to feel jealous once again.

“I see,” Annikin said, hiding his jealousy from the two of them.

“Oh no,” Crispin said with a cocky laugh as he started walking backwards towards the dueling ring, extending his hand to call his training saber back into his palm, “you haven’t seen anything yet!”

Crispin threw them another swaggeringly hotshot smile, particularly towards Padmé who seemed to want nothing of it as she subtly rolled her eyes at what she perceived to be Crispin’s arrogance within an Order that taught individuals to release such feelings. Padmé never could understand why the Jedi Council, and Crispin’s master Rana Quemin, tolerated his behavior. Hitting on fellow Jedi was hardly part of the Jedi Code, in fact it was quite the contrary. Although Crispin was respected throughout the Jedi Order as someone who many believed to represent the ideals of a true Jedi, others who knew him well, such as Padmé, felt that such a belief made him overconfident and, in fact, un-Jedi-like.

Ironically, Padmé’s reaction to Crispin gave Annikin more self-confidence. He was not yet a Jedi so he did not have to worry about his feelings for others, so seeing that Padmé was not interested in Crispin’s advances helped the jealousy that he had felt only moments earlier slip away to the point where he did not even feel it any longer. Annikin knew that he would likely not be able to express his feelings for Padmé because she was not in a position to return them, but knowing that she was not interested in Crispin gave him, at the very least, a bit of self-assurance.

“Crispin!” the tall, long-white haired Jedi Master Cin Drallig, a legendary swordsman, shouted as he descended from a flight of steps connected to a viewing room above them, “showing off is a fool’s idea of glory, so get back into the practice ring and quit trying to impress us. Every time you try, I’m impressed with you even less, especially when you do something as stupid as throwing lightsabers across a room and damn near injuring a guest!”

“Yes, Master Drallig,” Crispin said, backing down from his previously self-righteous indignation. “I apologize.”

“I don’t require apologies,” Drallig reminded him with a smooth force that assured Crispin that he was only trying to help him improve. “I require legitimate effort, so back to work!”

“Aye, sir,” Crispin acknowledged, igniting his green training saber once more as Drallig ascended into the viewing theater.

Cin Drallig himself was said to have been the best swordsman in the history of the Jedi Order, rivaling and likely surpassing former greats such as Nomi Sunrider and Damien Nightblade. Drallig trained numerous Jedi, and at one point had taught, alongside Yoda, the Ascending Jedi Clan in basic lightsaber studies before the clan was assigned to Cinde Moun. After that, he spent most of his time in the Sparring Arena and other dueling classrooms, freelancing to instruct any student who wished to learn more about lightsaber combat. The Jedi Council had assigned him to watch over Crispin’s skills specifically, hoping that Drallig’s abilities would calm the overconfidence of the young Padawan.

Once Drallig was back inside the viewing theater, Crispin returned to his position in the center of the ring with his ignited blade, waiting for the second match to begin. After the low-pitched hum of a buzzer sounded, Crispin’s opponents drew their weapons; one Jedi wielded a yellow blade, while the others used cortosis-weaved swords. Once the weapons were ready, the fighters entered into the fray, with Crispin easily gaining the upper hand as he parried the attacks of others.

Annikin and Padmé watched the duel, although they grew tired of the continuous attacks and parries after a few minutes. For Padmé, there was only so much she could take of Crispin’s showing off, having endured it for the better part of eighteen years. Annikin, on the other hand, simply did not want to be associated with Crispin because of his prior jealousy, although he had no reason to dislike him. Nevertheless, having spotted a large door on the far side of the room, he had found his opportunity to make an exit.

“What’s in there?” Annikin asked, leaning over slightly so Padmé would be able to hear him over the combat.

“A private training chamber,” she said, raising her voice over the noise that flowed throughout the chambers. “You want to see it?”

“Sure,” Annikin replied before Padmé led him around the duel, and he noticed that Crispin momentarily became distracted when he realized that they were leaving, although Annikin took his attention off of his would-be rival when the door prompted Padmé for a voice recognition password.

“Ataru master eighty-eight,” Padmé recited, referencing Ataru, the fourth form of Jedi lightsaber combat taught to numerous students throughout the Jedi Temple, which allowed the door to open up in front of them.

The private chamber was much more modern than the one that Crispin fought in. The white stone architecture was woven with depictions of famed battles from Jedi history, some of which Annikin was able to recognize as being against Mandalorians and Sith Lords, likely from thousands of years earlier during the Mandalorian War and the Jedi Civil War. Blue florescent lights gave the room a blue tinted hue, as it did to everyone within it. It was a cool and calming environment, which was ironic considering it was a place where students practiced violent combat skills.

Padmé had never been an advocate of violence in any form. Much more than many other Jedi, she preferred peace at all costs. She strongly held the belief that violence only bred additional violence, and if Jedi engaged in fighting fire with fire then it would continue a downward spiral of continuing wars and death. Despite having gone on missions with Master Windy, she and her master assured one another that the only time they would draw their lightsabers would be when it was absolutely imperative to defend themselves, leading to very little violence during their time together. Many doubted that it would work, but it had proven effective thus far.

At the end of the chamber was a large metallic slab of a table, upon which rested a group of training lightsabers. Annikin looked over to them and wondered how he would fare against Padmé in a duel, not realizing that his desire to impress her reflected exactly what Crispin had been doing only minutes earlier. His hopes of gaining additional favor with her blinded him to that reality, although it was entirely possible that even if he did recognize him then it would not have mattered to him. He had strengthening feelings for her, even if he did not know where they came from or why they had come to him.

“You think you could take me with one of those training things?” Annikin asked with a sly grin as he strode towards the table.

“Please,” she laughed, realizing that he was heading half-cocked into a situation they he could not possibly emerge victorious from. “I’ve been training with a lightsaber my entire life. You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Annikin explained, picking up one of the hilts and tossing it between his hands. “I got a hunter’s katana for my fourteenth birthday. I swung it around for a few months, and I think I got pretty good with it.”

“And I’ve been training with these since I was old enough to hold one,” she reminded him, although she made sure that she was not indicating a desire to back down. “A few months with a katana doesn’t really compare.”

“It sounds to me like you’re afraid,” Annikin told her with a grin.

At that moment, Padmé realized what Annikin was doing. It was clear to her that he was trying to impress her, and although all of her Jedi instincts told her not to give in to such emotions, she wondered what would happen if she humored him. There was also the added benefit that she would be able to show off her own skills to him. Despite not knowing what was going through his mind, she did find him naively attractive, though that may have stemmed from her own disagreements with the Jedi Council regarding relationships and personal attachments. She had always felt that romantic relationships could be maintained amongst Jedi if handled properly, and that in turn created a longing to experiment with her theory. Whether or not whatever feelings she was feeling for Annikin was a side effect of that could not be determined at that moment.

“Alright, fine,” Padmé conceded, moving towards the table to grab a training blade for herself as she kept her own personal training sword in her quarters.

Unlatching a hook hanging in front of her tunic, Padmé removed her bright white over-robe, showing a personally revealing sleeveless tunic. Annikin noticed this instantly, his eyes suddenly darting away from her face and towards her mid-region. Her attractiveness seemed to increase tenfold, and her facial beauty increased once he took a strong gaze of it. He had never felt so attracted to anyone before, and it pained him to know that Padmé was likely incapable of returning his feelings because of her Jedi training. Little did Annikin know that, as he removed his gray coat to reveal a somewhat tight brown undershirt, Padmé was feeling the exact same feelings he was, and it worried her more than it did him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Padmé told him, leading to the instantaneous ignition of both training blades, Padmé’s green and Annikin’s an orange hue that he had never seen before, even in holo-feeds.

Before so much as contemplating a potential first move as any skilled combatant would have done, Annikin raised the blade above his head, with only one hand, and lunged towards Padmé. Using her superior combative skills, she ducked out of the way and, with a ferocious intensity that even she did not anticipate, knocked Annikin’s hand backwards, sending his orange blade flying onto the floor. Going in for the “kill”, Padmé swiftly pivoted on her left foot, swiping Annikin’s legs with her right foot as she spun to face the opposite direction while Annikin fell onto his back.

Having been victorious within seconds, Padmé swung herself back around, her hair flowing freely behind her as she did. She brought her blade down towards him, pointing the tip directly towards his face. She stared at him for a moment, meeting his gaze with an accidental passion. The raw emotion that she exhibited in her defensive maneuver left her vulnerable to lowering her guard and susceptible to inadvertently letting her feelings out.

Annikin too caught her gaze, and although her skill had impressed him, it was the feelings she seemed to be outwardly displaying that impressed her the most. Only days earlier, Obi-Wan had told him about philosophies regarding love, saying how attachment in relationships could lead to the dark side of the Force. Based just on the power of her gaze, Annikin could sense that Padmé seemed to have little worry for that sort of thing, as if she had found some sort of a balance between Jedi edicts and personal temptations.

“I told you so,” Padmé said after deactivating her lightsaber and extending her hand to help Annikin up to his feet.

“I let you win,” Annikin lied as he grabbed her hand.

“I’m sure,” Padmé quipped while Annikin finally made it to his feet.

Once Annikin was standing, the two recognized their close proximity and stood silently in front of one another for a few moments, looking at each other as if they had known each other for a lifetime. They both recognized that there were voids within themselves that had no desire but to fill themselves, and what that meant confused them both. Their emotions were running high, and Annikin was tempted to kiss her, but he restrained himself, feeling that it might make things uncomfortable between them.

“Come on,” Padmé exclaimed somewhat excitedly in an effort to break the silence that had cast itself over the room like an unwelcome shadow, “I’ll take you for dinner at the rectory.”

Annikin nodded his head in agreement, handing Padmé her over-robe and grabbing his jacket. He slightly regretted not kissing her right then and there, but as he thought about it more he realized that it would have caused some awkwardness in their newfound friendship, and he did not want to put any strain on that. Save for Obi-Wan, Annikin did not have any friends within the Jedi Order, and he did not want his new friendship with Padmé to end before it barely had a chance to begin.

Padmé, on the other hand, was far more torn than Annikin. She knew that she had strong disagreements with the Jedi High Council and their continued beliefs on romanticism, but she found herself trying to agree with them to use it as an excuse to avoid having strong and confusing feelings for someone. She listened to Master Windy’s words in her head, hearing him that say that people who were attached to their bodies, thoughts, beliefs or feelings were imprisoned and did not know true freedom unless they only held compassion as being important. She started to convince herself that it was the truth, hoping she could end the cloud of doubt that hung over her.

But deep down, she knew Master Windy’s teaching was a lie.