pronker

Part Eighty-Nine

Obi-Wan pressed hard enough to block Anakin's jugular, hoping that the pressure would cut off either Anakin's air or suppress the artery enough to produce unconsciousness.

His bathrobe snarled around him, but hadn't tangled his hands or his legs. Anakin fought to regain his freedom, twisting powerfully beneath Obi-Wan's body, not clear enough in his mind even to bring up a knee to Obi-Wan's crotch. Even a near blackout will do.

CRASH! Tinkle, grit, tinkle! The sound of glass breaking edged into Anakin's overloaded brain. He stopped resisting. Had a short-out arc in my head, was his first returning thought. I ... broke something and ... Master's bleeding. From Obi-Wan's face dripped gouts of blood, down Obi-Wan's chin and from there to Anakin's own. Anakin turned his head to the side as much as possible to avoid the drips trickling onto his lips. "'M all right, Master," he croaked through Obi-Wan's bruising squeeze on his throat. " ... blitzed out ... too much happening ... let me up. Please." He went limp in surrender.

Obi-Wan gauged his Padawan's state with a measuring eye. "All ... right," he gasped, breathing through his mouth. He sat up and slid off Anakin's midriff, coming to rest at a wide-legged sprawl, using Anakin's body as a backrest. They panted together.

"Did I break your nose?" Anakin asked. I hurt him. My true friend in all this mess.

Obi-Wan probed tenderly with his left hand. "No. It's just a bloody nose." It left splotches of crimson on his hands and bathrobe.

From his supine position, Anakin spotted a crushed box, myriads of pearlescent support beads and shards of crystal. My anniversary gift. I left it next to the sofa. There was nothing to conclude about that, and so he didn't. He sat up, twisting around until he supported Obi-Wan's back with his own. It was better not to look at each other. "What next?"

Obi-Wan analyzed the query. "Do you mean 'what do we do next,' 'what do I do next,' or 'whatever could possibly go wrong next?'"

Anakin would have laughed if he'd had the strength. Dearest Master and his analytical mind. I hope that he never changes. "What do we do next?"

"I don't know about you, but I need to see Luminara."

Anakin turned around quickly and Obi-Wan nearly toppled. "Kriff, Master, I've hurt you, I've really done it this time ... "

"My right hand and wrist are numb again. Please stay rational, Padawan. This happened before our tussle."

He's rubbing his head. "Master, right now is the time to go. I'm going, too."

"All, all right."

He's not fighting me about going there. Not good. Anakin took Obi-Wan's right hand to give him a boost up. It felt like space-cold durasteel in his grasp.

xxxxx

Anakin worked at his Living Force connection with Luminara's fish. They moved as one, each separate in the school, yet melded by their behavior into one unit. Up, down, and sideways, they flashed their silvery skins at him through the clear aquarium walls. "Master Lu, I'm going to tell Master Yoda about the Tuskens." He said it mostly to himself, thinking out loud. The Living Force surrounding them was filled with life and instinct and no thought at all.

Luminara finished treating Obi-Wan's nose with a final smoothing motion of deft fingertips. "Snort," she said. Obi-Wan snorted. "Any pain?"

"No. Thanks, Lu. My hand's better. Just tingles a little."

"Wrestling, you say?" Obi-Wan and Anakin nodded in unison. "I see. You're on medical leave, Obi-Wan."

"Yes." Obi-Wan and Anakin said as one. If only you knew what was going on, Lu.

"Eat regularly and well, no stress, take your memory vitamins every day, repeat your lesson twice daily."

"Yes," they chorused again.

Luminara turned her back on them to wash her hands, fairly hearing the looks sizzling between them. "Now then." She focused on Obi-Wan first. "Padawan, please wait outside. I'll talk to you, but I need to address any pain first."

"Yes, Master Lu." As he waited under the speaker outside the office, it played more nalargon music, soft riffs this time; they accompanied Anakin's review of his secrets. Him and Master: SECURE, although he was perplexed by Master Ry-Gaul's statements to him on Trow. Padmé knew, and was trustworthy. For some reason, he'd had the impression that her pride was involved, so she would not let out their secret. Him and Padmé: OUT TO OBI-WAN, SECURE TO REST OF GALAXY. Tusken Incident: OUT TO OBI-WAN, OUT TO MASTER LU, SOON OUT TO MASTER YODA AND BY EXTENSION, THE REST OF THE COUNCIL. The Chancellor: SECURE TO ALL. Sidious' identity rested within the Jedi Order's Council and with him. It could not be any safer. Dooku and Grievous were loose ion cannons. The latest intel had them on Alliga, a recent addition to the CIS. Dooku. He gloated a minute, briefly feeling on top of things, when lately so much had been on top of him. I'm coming for you, just as soon as I can. Master and I will take you down, and your droids, and your droid-android-cybernetic wonder of a General. It won't be long now. Anakin settled into a meditation, a little surprised at himself. He'd weathered a storm. It felt good.

xxxxx

Luminara spared a look at her aquarium. The small silvery fish swam endlessly, each one identical, but each one an individual. "Obi-Wan, tell me something."

She's smart. "Sure."

"I don't really need to know how you were hurt, but what do you think triggered your hand problem?"

Obi-Wan couldn't have liked her half so much if she wasn't so smart. "There was a stressor. I recited my lesson at dawn."

"Want to go out for a drink tonight?" She tried for casual.

He grimaced. "No, thanks. Still doesn't appeal."

"Stressed. Maybe we can change your lesson. Start using this now." Obi-Wan listened. It was nearly the same. He said as much. "The important thing is to place yourself first, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You count for something." She tapped the end of his nose. "For a lot, as a matter of fact."

The river warmed.

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Part Ninety

"I'll wait outside. Sure you won't reconsider?"

Anakin licked his lips. "No, thanks, Master Lu. You don't have to stand with me. You've done so much, more than enough. It's important to realize when you've had enough." He glanced at Obi-Wan. "I'm ready."

Luminara sat down to wait. "I'm here for backup, Padawan. Anytime."

Obi-Wan's morning had been poor thus far. Even with his new lessons that he'd practiced diligently for three days, his attention wandered. If this happens in battle, I can't go into a firefight on as Anakin's Master. I won't be able to have his back. Perhaps being in the Council chambers would improve his focus. Being in Master Yoda's renewed clarified presence generally worked wonders on his moods, too. "Proceed, Padawan." There was an awkward moment when it looked like Obi-Wan expected Anakin to precede him into the chambers, then Anakin positioned himself at his usual spot while Obi-Wan led him inside, two steps ahead, one step to the right.

"Young Obi-Wan, better you look. Rest you did need." As did I. "Keep you two long, we will not." Yoda turned to Anakin. "Privileged, you are, to know what the Council knows and senses." His ears drooped. "The Darkness has thinned, but at your personal cost, Padawan Skywalker. Sympathetic, we are, to your mixed feelings." Anakin merely nodded. "Begin with your reactions to your new knowledge, we shall."

So quiet. They're waiting for me to divulge --- what? "Masters, Sidious holds no power over me. Our friendship had a surface that I enjoyed greatly and a depth I never understood. He was nice to me. I came here at nine years old, right after Master Qui-Gon's death and with a new Master. Sidious listened to me. Eh, Master Obi-Wan did, too, but Sidious was outside the Order, more like folks I was used to." Padmé was, too, but I didn't see her for ten years. "Sidious taught me to appreciate cultural aspects of life, mostly Nubian ones like good food and wines and music and art --- "

"Implying, are you, that Jedi refectory food lacks a certain something?" A few Councilmembers huffed and Anakin thought he saw a wink from Shaak Ti's holographic left eye.

Anakin relaxed a little more but didn't smile. "Master, refectory food speaks for itself."

"Go on, Padawan." Ki-Adi-Mundi had several children, Anakin remembered as he turned to address the Cerean's dignified blue shape. He'd never understood the ins and outs of why a Knight sat on the Council and was not a Master.

"That's about all I have to say. He was my friend. He was Sith. He didn't confide his Sithly plans to me, if that's what you all want to know. You can ask me questions. I'm ready." A warmth surrounded him, a feeling like being immersed in Gitchy, except that the water was septsilky, and was warm and he could breathe it in. The warmth left him suddenly and as there were genuine smiles on all faces, except the ones he couldn't see due to beards or masks, he assumed he had passed a test.

Yoda tapped his gimer stick once. "Details. Details I will tell you, young Skywalker, about the death of the Sith. Bring you up to speed with my intel." Anakin braced himself. "Free to go, are the rest of you until tomorrow. Have heard these things you all have." Yoda's citrine eyes regarded Anakin sharply. "Privacy needed for the rest of our time together, I hear you requested. I will speak first, and then you."

The rest strode or slithered or sparkled away. Obi-Wan drew upon the power of his fellows until only Yoda's smooth, steady flame was left. That sustained him even better. He took a deep breath to concentrate more.

Yoda didn't need the Holonews feed to state the facts. He knew them by rote. "At nineteen-thirty hours seven days ago, most everyone's dinnertime for our part of Coruscant, holoemitter failure occurred in Sidious' office due to unknown power surge. Scorch marks on desk, office walls, Sidious' clothing indicated enormous voltage involved, enough for killing human, near human, humanoid, or even larger species, such as Phlog. Residual fingerprints point to Sidious' position: at desk, leaning into holoemitter, he was, one hand on it and one hand caught in robe's pocket. State of sexual excitement, corpse was frozen in. Fairly common in his species for electrocution victims, I am told."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and looked away. Anakin's mind whirled out of its near-calm. Nineteen-thirty hours. Dinnertime. Terratta strips. Padmé. With Palpatine ... no! Not with him! Spychip, it was! Overlay with other end of transmission, Sidious did! Anakin shook his head. I mean, Artoo and Threepio were spies for Palpatine/Sidious in Padme's household. To spy on her, or her playing around, maybe because of blackmail, maybe for Palpatine/Sidious' gratification, who knows? Anakin had been frightened at age ten in Madame Nu's library by an artist's hologram rendition of Obi-Wan's description of the Zabrak assassin and his yellow-tinged eyes ... Sith eyes? After all the revelations and disillusion lately, the fact that he himself had unknowingly killed Palpatine --- The Sith Chancellor --- left Anakin nonplused. His heart beat steadily, he felt not at all faint; this epiphany bred no tears, no disbelief. It simply was. Was I chosen for this? It doesn't matter. I did it. I am a Sith-Killer, like Master. "Master Yoda, please stop. I may know something after all." Obi-Wan and Yoda stared, Obi-Wan slightly disapproving at the interruption. "I may have killed the Sith, no, I know I did."

The river nodded.

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Part Ninety-One

After explaining his actions leading to Sidious' death and following with the admission of guilt of his crime on Tatooine, Anakin had never felt so clean. All except for the marriage-divulging part, which he still kept in a shamed chamber of his heart. Can't hurt Obi-Wan, not now, not ever. I can live with secrets. Confessing the Tusken incident to Master Yoda a minute ago in twenty-two words still rang in his ears. I killed ... m-murdered the Tuskens who abducted my mother and killed her. The entire camp, down to their massifs. I was wrong.

Yoda stood at Anakin's feet, as close as possible to him without treading on toes. He looked up at Anakin a long time, almost drowning him with the warm Gitchy flood of sensation. Finally he turned and waddled back to his seat. "Hmmmph."

Obi-Wan's mind cleared and he took advantage of it to put pieces of the puzzle together. Anakin and Padmé, Padmé and Other, to be spied on like they were microbes under a portable scanner, all their little and not-so-little foibles and faults open to grinning salaciousness, playing on their lovers' stage for Sidious as he fumbled with himself and ... Artoo and Threepio, trusted as they were, perfectly innocent. Why, Artoo had been bravely trying to dislodge the chip, Anakin said! Even Amidala didn't deserve this. His estimation of her rose a notch. She'd endured a near-death experience and had gotten up the next morning and gone to work, speaking out on something or other despite the chaos of Palpatine/Sidious' death. He couldn't recall what she'd yammered on about. Might double up on those memory vitamins.

"Visiting with Senator Amidala, you were. Problems with droids, she was having, mmm?"

"Yes, Master. It had been over one full year ago that Geonosis, um, renewed our friendship. We remembered it for a drink together."

Obi-Wan shot him a look. Oooops. I don't drink. Obi-Wan's expression shaded into resignation at Anakin's lies about his whereabouts on the night of Sidious' demise. Lies, no, Master, just ... omissions. Please understand. He was starting to feel dirty again. Maybe I'll take up drinking.

Yoda pursued his timeline ferociously. "Nineteen-thirty death, blocked surge to protect yourself and the Senator, droids ceased functioning." Yoda's ears swiveled first one way, then reversed. "Repaired, are they?"

"No. Only this hyperburst I told you about came through twice, then nothing more." If you need to view it, I'll bring the holoscanner's recording of it in. Does your species even have sex? "After all this is over, they'll need mindwipes, both of them." I can rebuild only so much of their traits. I'm not happy. I don't want them to change.

"Come closer, Padawan Skywalker."

Anakin gulped. He stepped away from his Master, not looking for a supporting glance. Just by being in the chamber with him, Obi-Wan was doing enough. My true friend lives. My friend who was not my friend is dead. Anakin stood before Master Yoda as repentant as he could possibly be. He'd been taken in by Sidious, he'd slaughtered thirty-two sentients undeservedly, plus their pets, he'd endangered his Master, his wife, his entire personal galaxy as well as the galaxy-at-large by his actions. And his non-actions. However Master Yoda judged, he knew it would hurt and he knew he deserved it.

One of the most difficult things that Obi-Wan had done in his life was not to send reinforcement of any kind through his training bond with Anakin. He clenched his fists with the effort to stand firm. A small tremor began in his right hand.

"Padawan Skywalker, destroyed the murderers of your mother, you have. Saved the Republic from continuing Sith leadership, you have, by destroying Sidious. Two kinds of results, one kind of destruction. Chosen for destruction, do you believe you are, Padawan?"

Anakin whispered, "No, I couldn't be, Master. The prophecy wouldn't be about only destruction from a Chosen One, it couldn't be! It must be about balance, about restoration as well as destruction." He firmed his voice. "I don't believe I am bad. I couldn't feel compassion" --- he glanced at Obi-Wan --- "or loyalty to the Order, or friendship, or, or anything else that is good if I were." He went on, softly, "But I made wrong steps. I'm willing to return to a planet that holds only pain to make amends to the Tuskens in their way, not mine. I will continue to pursue my Knighthood as heartily as I will pursue Count Dooku and Grievous, to end this war. And I will" --- his voice squeaked --- "be Padawan to the best Master ever, if he'll continue having me." He lowered his head so that he couldn't see Obi-Wan, but he felt his warm embrace almost physically through their bond. There followed a measured silence at least as long as Anakin's slaughter in the Tusken camp, but without the energizing charge of mind-numbing adrenaline. Anakin heard each of his heartbeats, felt each drop of cold sweat drip from his palms. Later, he couldn't honestly say what he thought about.

"Young Skywalker, come here." Anakin stumbled as he approached Yoda's seat. "Kneel." Anakin knelt. The wizened Master placed his gimer stick in Anakin's hands. "Know what this is, do you?"

"Your cane, Master."

"Hard, it is. Tough."

"Yes." Anakin had never touched it before. Its dark wood was filled with whorls, showing growth where shoots had sprouted long ago. A knobby handle displayed grooves where Yoda's claws found purchase. "It's ... a naynabo root?"

"Mmmm, yes ... good guess ... heeheee ... On Trow, I was, last century." Yoda snorted. "Not changed much in all that time, by your mission report. Gitchy runs wild there still."

Obi-Wan focused his mind with some effort on Yoda's words. His concentration was intermittent. "Bland. It's still bl-bland, Master Yoda. Landscape, food ... every-everything."

Yoda nodded at Obi-Wan's statement and seemed about to address him, but turned back to Anakin instead. "Good, bland is. Useful. Without bland, without something tying us to mundane reality, we soar too high." As he spoke, the gimer stick cooled in Anakin's hand from its prior Yoda-warmth. Yoda spread out his hands benevolently, rising to the ceiling of the chamber where the frescoes were lit by his unshielded light in the Force. Obi-Wan's tremor subsided and Anakin gaped as Yoda smiled down on the pair. He descended gently into his seat. "Temporary insanity with the Tuskens, it was. Forgiven, you are. Amends will you make to the ones you injured." Seeing Tatooine again, I can take it, I can and will take it. "Postponed, your Trials are, until peace resumes." I expected this part. "Remain in your care, Obi-Wan, young Skywalker will." And I am unworthy of this part. "Darkness, thinning, it is. And greatly to do with you, Anakin Skywalker. Keep the stick. Dozens more in my closet, I have. Use it for when you need blandness." Yoda touched the stick once as if to garner enough equanimity to reach his quarters to gather its replacement, and regarded Obi-Wan. "Resume leave, you both shall. Look to your health, young Jedi. Keep me informed."

Without asking, Obi-Wan knew that Yoda wouldn't really mind if he did not keep him informed of exact details in his problem. The aged Master would mind, though, if Obi-Wan didn't recover. Obi-Wan nodded. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wondered about Yoda and Yaddle's home world. No one knew it, and Obi-Wan was afraid to ask. He didn't object to a few mysteries in life.

The river intensified.

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Part Ninety-Two

"For the Force's, Anakin's, the Order's, and my own sake ... No, no, that's wrong." Luminara said that I must put myself first on the list. Obi-Wan started over breathlessly, "For my own sake Anakin's the Force's and the Order's I scale down my reaction ... down ... down ... until I can ... breathe ... without ... hyperventilating ... there ... " He heaved a breath. "Step one done." For step two, he first clenched all his voluntary muscles and then consciously relaxed them twenty times. It helped. It was the second time he'd needed the revised kata this morning. The first time was when he'd awakened to his bed without Anakin in it. It took a full minute to remember why they slept separately these days. His Padawan had sung in the 'fresher as Obi-Wan woke up, warbling not his usual lusty, "Roll Me Over In The Clover," but a sweet tune involving Ewoks. He can't act, but he can sing, and spar a little. The comical title under Anakin's likeness in this season's holoyearbook popped into his head. More random thoughts like this and he'd comm Luminara. She hadn't wanted him to attend the Chancellor's funeral, anyway. He could beg off. No. Anakin will penetrate Sidious' office with Dar Wac under the guise of gathering quotes for Anakin's part of the eulogy. Dar Wac alerted us to this window of opportunity to gather Sidious' private files, and I will attend the Council meeting and the funeral. For Anakin's sake ...and my own. Anakin had left already to meet with Dar Wac and as Obi-Wan rolled out of his luxurious sheets, he berated himself for lying slug-abed while there was work to be done.

xxxxx

Dar Wac's usual musky smell permeated a five-meter ring around him. "Wait in lobby. Call you, I will, if need you I do." Dar Wac obeyed. The Rodian's glazed eyes added to Yoda's twinges of guilt, and he knew that Dar Wac would remember none of his part in the deception. Straighten out his loyalties, I would, if I did not put limits on my meddling. Mind wipes, sentients do not need.

After adjusting the Chamber's holoemitter to its largest display, Anakin set up it up in the middle of the room, first darkening the spire's large windows from the midmorning sun. The pilfered files came from a charred top-of-the-line model of holoemitter on Sidious' desk, undoubtedly loaded with extras and enhanced reception. He was not tempted to tinker with its repair. What it needed was being fired into a binary sun's corona, zapped into its constituent atoms. At a nod from Master Yoda, he inserted the files and activated the device.

Hmmmph. What mammals will get up to. Yoda squinted at a uncorrupted file of a full silhouette of Senator Amidala and an unfamiliar curly-headed ... female? ... err, yes, female perhaps-human, perhaps-something-close-enough. Too thin, they both are. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the Council chamber so that all the others could observe and comment on their trove, he traveled further into the folder of top secret files, a subfolder leading him into a series of orders from One to Sixty-Seven of varying interest ("NOTE FOR GLORIOUS EMPEROR," said one, in an elaborate flowery font --- Emperor? Emperor, he would be? --- designating Order Number Fifteen: Change colors of guards' uniforms to red) until he reached Order Sixty-Six: Initiate total purge of Jedi Order galaxy-wide by complete clone forces. After reading Order Sixty-Seven (Forceful sampling of blood or comparable tissue and/or fluid samples of all Empire citizens to identify fugitive Jedi or any other Force-sensitives targeted for elimination), he clicked off the holoemitter with an unsteady claw, dimly hearing Adi Gallia sobbing. Shaak Ti automatically tried to put a comforting blue arm around Adi's blue shoulders, but became frustrated by her holoemitter's limitations. Kit Fisto staggered near to the door and vomited. Close to Yoda's side, having risen from his seat in alarm to stare at the file, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and whispered, " ... the younglings ... the younglings ... " as he bent over, bracing his hands on his knees and lowering his head to prevent a faint. The bewildered look left Anakin's face and a justified expression took its place. The Padawan stood strong and tall in the middle of the circle of seats, more in control than any of the Councilmembers, Yoda included. Yoda approached Anakin and placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. "Leaving for Tatooine directly after funeral, you are. All the time you need there, take without counting. Small reimbursement for a debt the Order can never repay." Anakin thought he saw tears in Master Yoda's eyes, but it was hard to tell through the tears in his own.

xxxxx

Resembling a mechanical device himself, Anakin got through the day; the state funeral no longer said 'hypocritical' to him. He buried a friendship with a Sith the same day that he buried his ideals of marriage. Like that time when Ferus checked him on the green Temple scramball playing field, he knew he wasn't always going to win. Dredging up the childish emotions during the Naboo Victory Parade when he was nine and putting them behind him in his growing awareness of his maturity, he glanced around as he mounted the dais' steps in tandem with his fellow pallbearers. Only the trappings of this afternoon were similar: enormous crowd, many speeches, Padmé beside him. As he began his part of the eulogy after hefting the casket onto its bier along with Padmé, Amedda, Dar Wac and two others, he glanced sideways at Padmé's painted face and finery. Just like our takeout terratta strips and the best part of our marriage, let's get this over with fast. The dais seemed an island with a blinding view of a glary ocean. Anakin searched the crowd, talking all the while from his notes. He couldn't spot any Jedi, much less Obi-Wan. Still thumbing the scroller on his datapad, letting his voice stress or destress his words according to his practice thirty minutes earlier, he searched for Obi-Wan without stopping until he found him. We've imprinted; we won't lose each other. Anakin could not see his Master's face at all, nor his form. The beacon pointed him out anyway. Tatooine next. Sandpeople, Cliegg, Owen, Beru, and Mom's grave ... sand. Hang in there, Anakin.

The river filtered.

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