Archive of Our Own

"Better then no hand at all," Anakin said. I leaned against the doorway,
exhausted from work and worry, regarding my partner Knight as he flexed
the mechanical hand experimentally.

 He sat barefoot and cross-legged on our bed, only the line between
his eyes betraying his discomfort. I flashed back suddenly to the small
boy he once had been, sitting in that same pose, in the same place, trying
not to cry over the loss of his mother.

I crossed to him as I had then, knelt and placed my hands on his shoulders
as I had before. But this time I slid my hands down his arms, cradled the
new hand and kissed the palm softly. It twitched under my mouth as his
other hand crept through my hair.

 "It changes nothing, Anakin. You are yourself despite it."

 But the line remained between his eyes, until I kissed it away.
"We both need sleep, Anakin."

 "Have you slept at all since we returned, Obi-Wan?"

 "No. Move over."

 He quirked a smile and shifted to his side of the bed as I pulled
off my boots and outer clothes. I lay down thankfully, 46 hours of stress
weighing heavy on my bones, and Anakin curled around me like a child despite
his greater height. His head in the crook of my neck, arm flung across
my chest and his new right hand playing fretfully in my shoulder-length
hair.

I pressed a kiss into his cropped hair and fell into sleep, pulling
him with me through the remnants of our training bond.

Dream. Red and flickering, echoes of blaster shots, screams and explosions.
I didn't know if it was my own dream or Anakin's, we so often shared.

 Abrupt change--red, overpowering, stifling, red fading to black,
drowning heat, filling and engulfing, killing--

 Pain awoke me. Anakin's hand tangled in my hair, pulling painfully
as he writhed against me, teeth gritted.

"Anakin!" I shook him awake. He flung himself back against the wall,
his eyes wild and his breath coming in heaves.

"Anakin--lover--it was a nightmare, that's all, just a dream," a familiar
chant as I gathered him back into my arms.

"Master..." His voice rough and raw with fear and pain, prickling stubble
against my chest as his cheek sought the comfort of skin.

"Padawan. I'm here, I'm always here." My beloved former Padawan, friend
and lover.

 I rocked him, soothing him back into sleep. I held him in my arms,
watching over him. Qui-Gon, old Master, I tried to keep him safe. I saw
him to Knighthood, took him as my lover when he asked me.

But I cannot stop the blows of circumstance. I could not save his hand.
I could not save his wide-eyed youth. And he never was an innocent.

 I lay sleepless for a long time listening to him breathe.

I felt a shaft of sunlight creep across my cheek as my lover stirred
beside me. He squeezed my right shoulder, an old battle-camp gesture of
ours meaning "everything fine," and climbed across my body out of bed.

 I heard him pull something over the window. The room darkened,
and I fell gratefully back into sleep.

It was well past noon when I awoke again. I stretched and touched the
surrounding walls, a comforting gesture. There was no rush, for once. I
could stay in bed. I curled my arm over my head and relaxed, sending a
feeler of thought toward Anakin.

 He was in the other room, reading poetry. Another of Qui-Gon's
habits...strange how many he had picked up without ever really knowing
the man. But Qui-Gon's spirit hung heavy in the rooms. I kept his things,
seeing no reason to dispose of them. Finding comfort in his books and mementos,
especially during that first long, lonely year.

 The bedroom door opened and Anakin entered, bearing tea. He set
it down on the table next to the bed and draped himself over me.

 "You felt sad, Master. Are you all right?"

 I stroked his head pillowed on my chest. "I was thinking of Qui-Gon,
that's all. You very much remind me of him sometimes."

 His mouth twisted. "I'm not like him at all. I could never be
that calm, all the time. I could never be so sure of things."

 "You're like him in your passion, not your serenity. In your defense
of the helpless and compassion for the weaker. You even have the same habit
of picking up stray animals." The bird cage in the main room was inherited
from Qui-Gon, but the broken-winged songbird inside was not. I smiled,
and he smiled too. "Haven't I told you that before?"

 "I think so...I forgot."

 I felt his smile fade. He paused, and then dropped a kiss onto
my chest, followed by another a bit higher.

"My Anakin. Come here."

 I pulled him up face-to-face and kissed him deeply. We were here
and alive and undamaged in all important respects. His hands, real and
electronic, clasped mine as ardor swelled between us.

He scrambled out of his clothes, blood pumping hot, and tugged my tunic
and leggings off me. I was still sticky with two days of stress and exertion
but neither of us cared, because we were wonderfully, overwhelmingly alive
now, and the sheer relief catapulted us together.

 I brought my legs up around his hips, wanting to feel his life
inside me. "Here, like this, I need..."

 "I need you," he gasped, finishing the thought. He used spit to
ease his passage, sinking into my body, his heartbeat pulsing inside me
as we rocketed to release together.

 I felt a month's worth of crisis wash out of me in waves of passion.
Collapsed into the bed, my lover on top of me, his breath quick and hot
against my ear.

 "I love you, Obi-Wan..."

 "And I you, my Anakin."

 We rested then, finding solace in each other's embrace.

Anakin practiced with his lightsaber, accustoming himself to the new
hand. It was mechanically perfect, but didn't respond to the Force in the
same way as his own flesh. I dropped my hand to my own lightsaber, replaying
the incident in my head. We were on Ceylon, on the beta front. We had worked
to strengthen their defenses for some forty days--myself with the army,
planning guard points and supply lines for the warships in the field, and
Anakin training pilots in advanced tactical maneuvers. Our work done, we
were to leave in the morning, so we decided to relax with a long intimate
dinner at a restaurant outside the compound. But there is no peace for
Jedi. We were attacked with blasters; outnumbered and weary, we ran. And
a shot slipped past my guard and turned Anakin's wrist into smoking ruin.
I remember--grabbing his lightsaber from the ground--shaking free severed
fingers. Throwing the young man over my shoulder and running for shelter.

Sharp guilt sang through me. I tried to keep him safe, Qui-Gon.

Anakin grinned at a pair of Padawans only a few years younger than himself,
demonstrating a kata he had recently perfected. Such graceful movements.
He used his body elegantly, moving like water, unencumbered by his height.
He was oddly unbeautiful to look at, his face a bit too long and his body
too thin; but his grace and movement were all the beauty he would ever
need.

It was marred only by the stiffness of his artificial hand.

I turned away.

Weeks passed. Anakin recuperated, turning his attentions to teaching
a piloting class. He was never far from a ship's console, in all the years
I had known him. I spent my days in strategy sessions with the Guard. Planning
with Mace, trying desperately to find a weakness in the Mandelorian attacks.
Finding distressingly few.

 I had been guiding fleets in battle, but now they needed me on
Coruscant. The fronts had spread so that we had no central point of attack
any more, and simply had to defend our existing territory. The Senate was
in an uproar, as each planet tried to rally its own defense at the expense
of others. The Chancellor was resorting to increasingly extreme methods
to keep order--so much that Mace was worried.

I tried not to give in to doubt, but it was hard, very hard, when we
had all worked so diligently and so long for so little result. But we would
fight as well as we possibly could, and if we failed then we failed in
the knowledge that we had done our utmost for the Republic. But walking
down the corridor late at night, it was difficult to keep my fears at bay.

 Our quarters. Home at last. These rooms had been my home for nearly
thirty years now, first with Qui-Gon and now with Anakin.

I hung up my robe. The door was open to our bedroom and I heard low
voices. But I felt no other presence, so that likely meant Anakin was talking
to Amidala; it was an hour or so past midnight at the Jedi Temple, which
was early morning on Naboo at this stage of their relative cycles. I made
mint tea for both of us, finally entering the room.

 Anakin turned and I handed him one of the hot mugs. I saw Amidala
on the screen, her strong features brightened with a smile. I stood behind
Anakin, in range of the screen. "Good morning, Queen Amidala."

 "Good night to you, General Kenobi." She liked to use titles;
it was a quirk of her upbringing.

 "Did the harvest recover from the attack, Amidala?"

 "No." Concern flashed across her brow, a familiar emotion. "We
will be able to recover the lost cropland in the next planting season,
but forty percent of this year's harvest is completely destroyed. The Gungans
have plans to increase the fish harvests, so hopefully we can survive on
that this season. But we have hard times ahead, I fear."

 She betrayed the extent of her optimism in thinking there would
be a planting season at all. Naboo was dangerously close to the gamma front,
and a single random terror attack had caused this disruption of their agriculture.
A concerted attack could destroy the civilization entirely.

"You're a more than capable leader, Amidala. I'm sure you can bring
your people through this dark time." Amidala was the best leader they could
possibly have. I was honored to count her as my friend. But I didn't believe
a single hopeful word I said, not at this point, not when my nerves rubbed
against my sandpaper skin and weariness rested always on my shoulders.

 Amidala met my eyes warmly. "As you will bring the Republic through
it's dark time, General."

 Anakin leaned back into me, circling my waist with his arm. "I
should put him to bed, Ami, he's been saving the Republic all day." They
smiled, old friends. Amidala had known him even longer than myself. She
had known of his feelings for me long before he ever confessed, and likely
still knew more of his heart than I. I had thought them in love--most had.

They bid an affectionate farewell and the secured transmission blinked
closed.

 "Obi-Wan, go to bed. I'll clean up."

I nodded, wanting nothing more than to be horizontal. I pulled off my
clothes, dropping them carelessly, falling face-down on the bed dressed
still in my leggings.

I felt Anakin straddle me, running his hands over knotted muscles. "You
work too hard, Obi-Wan."

 "Who else would do it, Ani? Who else could?"

 He sighed, stroking down my scarred back.

 "Nobody."

We shared dreams again that night. Screaming death in the sky, green
harvest scorched. Flames. Red. The oppressive red of before, darkening
to wet black.

 Transmuting. The scene flipped. Myself standing alone on a featureless
plain, the darkness turned to a vein like a rip in the sky. The vein darting
down, seizing my hand. The mechanics of my alien hand turned black, crackling
with dark consumptive energy that crept up my arm like an infection. My
vision veined with black, my consciousness swallowed, even as a figure
ran toward me....

 We both leaped into awareness, trembling violently. "Ani!" Cupping
his face in my hands, his blue eyes dilated into blackness. "Ani, it's
a dream, you're all right!" "It's not a dream, it's too much!" His voice
strangled and terrified. I stroked his sweat-darkened hair, feeling his
pulse race against my hand.

 "Ani, it's a dream, it's not real, it's not real." But he didn't
believe me. I felt the aftereffects of terror ricocheting through his mind.
He hugged my chest tightly, pressing his head to my heart. I petted and
comforted him back into sleep.

 Dream again. Swimming through a red sea. The stains on my hands
told me it was blood. Blood in my eyes and my mouth, dragging me down,
swallowing me up.

 Black fish with shining razor teeth swam in the blood sea. They
glared at me, looking for a way to shred me, but I was enclosed in a glass
bubble, sinking. A bubble too small to stand; I crouched, falling.

 The sea ended at a membrane and I fell. The bubble burst. I was
cut by a thousand tiny shards of glass--they burrowed into me like living
things. They melted in my bloodstream and were exuded from my skin, covering
me in a fine hard coating.

I saw figures then, walking around me, and I knew that one was my lover
and the other was a dear dead friend, but they were indistinct, blurry;
the bobbed around me, talking to each other, never seeing me. And I could
not talk, could not cry out to them, for I was covered in a glassy steel
coating that made me a statue.

It turned opaque, and then my hand, my mechanical hand, came alive;
the coating was an extension of it now. The hand seized my saber, igniting
it and melding with it, so that the saber extended from my flesh.

My elbow bent and the saber pressed sizzling to my throat....

 Blackness then.

 Sleep then.

 In the morning, I did not remember.

Master Yoda contacted us the next morning, calling us before the Council.
Likely another post, as Anakin was recovered.

 Mace rubbed his chin as we entered, a too-familiar gesture that
meant he had weighty news to give. Definitely a new posting, and probably
a dangerous one.

 "You know of the attack on Naboo, I'm sure," he began. "The gamma
front is heating up, and we need an operative there with a good knowledge
of the peoples of Naboo."

 We nodded. We were the obvious choice, as close friends of the
Queen. "We can leave in the morning, Master Windu," I said.

 "Not you, Master Kenobi. Just Knight Skywalker."

 We exchanged questioning glances--we had requested to be assigned
together since Anakin had been knighted, and the Council knew the reason
full well.

 "We are aware that you prefer to work together, but we have a
pressing need to assign you separately. Bail Organa has specifically requested
Master Kenobi's assistance as acting General of the Alderaanian army, which
is beginning an attack on the alpha front that will hopefully break the
Mandelorian defenses in that sector. Knight Skywalker is the only other
with such an extensive knowledge of the Naboo system and peoples. Will
you accept the assignments?"

 Brush of thought across the training bond. //he's right, Master.//

 //I don't like it.//

"I accept," my lover said, and I reluctantly agreed.

 Mace nodded. "May the Force be with you."

 We left together. My hand sought Anakin's as soon as we left the
chamber, hidden beneath our robes. "It'll be all right," he said. "Master
Windu is right, they need me on Naboo. We're lucky to be posted together
as long as we have."

 I frowned and said nothing. We returned to our quarters.

 Anakin seemed calm on the surfaces, but the telltale line between
his eyes told me a different story. He left to find another teacher for
his piloting class. I paced briefly, trying to pinpoint my discomfort,
then went to track down a certain Council member.

 I pressed the buzzer on Master Yoda's door.

"Come in, Obi-Wan," was the simple answer. The door opened for me and
I stepped into the swampy warmth of Yoda's quarters. Yoda, like Anakin,
found Coruscant too cold, even after centuries on the planet. For all of
Ani's trepidation around the master himself, he did love Yoda's quarters.
In here he was warm to the core, although the humidity made him sneeze.

 Master Yoda sat calmly, awaiting my explosion.

 I stopped and stared at him. "Why?"

 Yoda raised his ears, silent.

 "Why are you splitting us up?"

 "Think you that we mean you harm, Obi-Wan?"

 "I think you mean our relationship harm. There are others who
could go to Naboo, nothing specifically requires Anakin's presence. Amd
he's just as valuable here." Hands on hips. I tried to control my temper.

 "Ah, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, hmm? A long separation
a sweet reunion makes, he he he." His eyes were bright, and I felt his
affection sweep over me. he meant no harm, I knew that, but at the same
time--

 "This is a mistake, Master Yoda. I feel it. There is danger in
this separation, danger to Anakin."

"Anakin. Much fear in him still." That caught my attention. Yoda held
out his hand, and I crossed to him, sitting cross-legged by his side. Such
a familiar pose; I must have sat here a hundred times since I first met
the master as a new Padawan.

"Obi-Wan. Love Anakin you do?"

 "Of course, Master Yoda."

 "Then let him face his fears, you will."

 My head dropped to my hand, and I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I knew he was right. But I still had a sick sense of premonition which
made me highly unwilling to let Anakin out of my sight.

"Have I been holding him too close, Master Yoda?" I asked quietly. "I
do love him, as completely as any man can love another. But I share your
uneasiness of his powers and potential."

 "And this weighs on you."

 "I don't want to doubt him. But I've seen his dreams."

 "Dark dreams, hmm?"

 "Worrying dreams."

 "Close you are, close you have been, and the dreams remain. Closeness
is not the answer, I think. Anakin must face himself." Yoda touched his
claw-tips to my head. "Much love in you, Obi-Wan, and much strength. Both
you wish to share. But Anakin's fight this is."

 I nodded. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

"You know why they separated us," Anakin said the next morning. I turned
to him, startled. "Why?"

 "To light a fire under your tail and win this war so we can be
together again!" he laughed, giving me a dazzling smile. I loved him so
much in that moment, there in the middle of the hangar with the droids
and pilots bustling around us.

I drew him close and kissed him, soft and sweet and long. It was a kiss
to last a month or more, so I made it count.

But it had to end. My lover straightened up again, looking a little
dizzy. "I'll see you soon," I murmured, letting him go.

The pilot grinned and punched his arm as Anakin stepped up the walkway.
"Hell of a goodbye," I heard as the hatch closed. I had to smile, a little;
Anakin and I were not much given to public displays of affection.

I touched my mouth as the ship left my field of view.

I slept alone for the first time in a very long time. Anakin had slept
on a pallet in my room all the long years before we were lovers; he could
have had his own room, my old Padawan quarters, but he rested easier with
me nearby. And then for the past three years, he slept with his head on
my heart. Every night. When one of us was not there, the other did not
sleep.

 But now I was alone. I slept uneasily, my body missing the presence
of my lover. I dreamed of Qui-Gon, a dream I thought I had left behind.
Qui-Gon striped with blood like the Sith that struck him down, Qui-Gon
dead and cold. I saw my hands lift him out of the blood, my lips kiss his
icy forehead, whispering the words of love that he never heard in life.

I looked up and saw the Sith, tattooed and feral. And under the tattoos...

 I saw Anakin.

 Qui-Gon jerked to life in my arms, his eyes wide and shocked.
His arm stretched out and a million voices screamed--and then were silenced.

 And I awoke. Alone. Alone.

Three months passed. I missed Anakin, but that knife of pain dulled
with time. Finally the war effort stabilized enough that I could go to
the gamma front and check on our installations--and see Anakin.

I arrived on Naboo after a week's journey. Communications were shaky
due to a hit on a major relay terminal, so I wasn't entirely surprised
when there was nobody there to meet me. A handmaiden showed me to Amidala's
study, where she was reading reports over a late lunch.

"General Kenobi? This is a surprise." Amidala sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Surprise? I sent word to Anakin weeks ago."

 "But...he left, ten days past." Shock rose in her face. "Obi-Wan,
what is going on?"

 I could only shake my head. "I don't know. What did he tell you?"

 "Only that he had to return to Coruscant. I assumed it was the
end of his post, that something came up."

 "I sent word eighteen days ago."

 "Perhaps he simply didn't want to see you," she said, her voice
sad.

"But why?"

 "Because your relationship ended? Anakin said it was amicable,
but...." She dissolved into uncertainty at my expression.

 "Our relationship. He told you it ended?" Something was wrong,
terribly wrong. "Yes. Obi-Wan, there's more," she said, bringing her hand
up over her belly in a gesture that told me everything. "I wanted a child.
I need an heir, and I felt that I was ready. I asked Anakin out of friendship,
and he obliged. I'm pregnant now--oh Obi-Wan, what has happened?" Amidala's
voice broke. I knew exactly how she felt.

I closed the space between us, enfolding her in my arms. "I don't know,
Ami."

 She sighed. "You're not upset?"

 "No. How could I be? We both love him. The baby will be quite
remarkable." I stroked her hair, my mind buzzing. "I must contact the Temple.
I must speak to Master Yoda."

 "Come, use my secure terminal," Amidala said, her voice steady
but her eyes bright with emotion.

I contacted Master Yoda directly. I found him in his quarters, meditating.

"Master--"

 "Calling about Anakin, yes?"

 I felt sick realization creep over me. "Yes, Master Yoda. Have
you received word from him?"

 "No. But felt him, I did. Felt it when he left Naboo."

 "But didn't tell me."

 "Need you there. Need you with Amidala. You would not have gone,
hmm?"

 I stared at his small image, so serene. "What would it take for
you to tell me the entire truth, Master Yoda?"

 "Dark times ahead, Obi-Wan. Truth sometimes does not serve."

 "Serve what? The Jedi, or your own plans?"

 "Think you that my plans do not serve the Jedi? After eight hundred
years a Knight and Master?"

 I rested my head in my hand. My heart was sick, I could not speak.

"Come to you I will. See Amidala I must."

 "All right." Dull, lifeless. Tired.

 "Obi-Wan. Care for you I do. Never doubt that."

 "I will see you in eight days, Master Yoda. We can talk then."
I hit the button and ended the transmission.

 "Have you finished?" Amidala, behind me.

 "Yes."

 "Obi-Wan--this was in Anakin's quarters. It was the only thing
of his left behind." Amidala handed me a box. I opened it carefully.

 Inside was Anakin's light saber. I knew then that it was real.
That he was lost.

I dreamed that night. I dreamed again of the Sith Lord. His striped
face wrenched into a grimace around animalian teeth, as he led us down
the hallways to the generator room. Herded us like children into death.

His balletic leaps answered by my defense of the air. So foolish, I
took satisfaction in fighting such a well-trained opponent, never doubting
that we would triumph.

 Then he kicked me off the walkway, and separated me from Qui-Gon.

 The hissing red field dividing me from my master. The Sith stalking
back and forth like a predatory cat. Stab of fear into my heart for my
master, so serene, kneeling in meditation.

Brush of thought from my master--//strength, Obi-Wan.//

 Oh Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon.

 Qui-Gon fighting--and dying. The Sith looking straight into my
eyes as he plunged his blood-red saber into my master's life.

 And my scream, echoing around me, heartbroken, disbelieving, no!
not my master.

not my master.

 I attack, my grief fueling my fighting. Slash and kick at the
Sith, eyes wild, oh grief, oh Master!

 Shock. His saber cuts through me. I am cut in half.

 I fall. For meters I fall.

 When I land he stands over me. His tattoos fade and it is Anakin.
Grim triumph, he stands over me.

Blood. All is blood. The future is blood.

 When I awake I am shivering out of control.

 Qui-Gon. I lost you. I lost your hope of the future. I lost Anakin.

I paced, awaiting Master Yoda's vessel. We had received a brief message
from it the previous night, informing us that they were on course.

Then this morning, all hell broke loose. Chancellor Palpatine, spurred
by increasing discord in the Senate, declared martial law. He announced
that a new sort of warrior, Stormtroopers, would combat the Mandelorians
on all fronts.

I thought on Mace's suspicions and paced.

I was meditating in my quarters, trying to resolve my fears for Anakin,
when my comlink beeped. I answered expecting Master Yoda--

 But it was Anakin. "Hello, Obi-Wan. I can feel you thinking about
me." His voice rough and strange.

 "Anakin! Where are you?"

 "Somewhere else...it's cold, and I'm all alone."

 "Anakin, please!" He had to know where he was, he was too good
of a pilot--unless he was being held captive.

 "It's all come apart, Obi-Wan. He's taking over."

 "Who? Anakin, who has you?"

 "The dark one. The dark one has me."

 The connection shut down. I raced for Master Yoda.

 The Sith! It had to be the Sith.

 Yoda ws in his quarters, reading. He looked up at me as I burst
in, wild-eyed. "Master! I have word from Anakin!"

 His ears lifted. "Contact you he did?"

 "Yes! I think he's being held captive, Master, it must be the
Sith! He spoke of the 'dark one"--the master Sith, do you think?"

 "Maybe so, Obi-Wan." Yoda was thinking, and doubting, I could
tell.

 "Master, we must go after him!"

 "Go where, Obi-Wan?"

 "Trace the comlink, find where he's being kept! Then sneak him
out. I've certainly done enough jailbreaks in my life."

 "Trace how? Communications are down, the Guard is no more. The
Stormtroopers are no friend to the Jedi."

 "Master Yoda." I was shocked, unbelieving. "You don't want me
to go after Anakin?"

 He shook his head sadly. "Dark times ahead, Obi-Wan. Too dangerous,
and too uncertain. We need you here, in this place. The Force decrees it."

 "The Force." My breath was coming short--was this anger? I whirled,
driving my fist into the wooden wall. I left him.

 I went to the garden, anger turning to grief with every step.
I sat on a marble bench and stared at a grown-over rose bush. Anakin and
I had walked here in happier times. I had kissed him on this bench; we
had made love beneath that tree, lit only by the stars.

 Our last kiss. I had intended it to last for a month; instead
it was stretched to six.

"Obi-Wan?"

 I looked up. Amidala walked toward me, pregnancy abrupt on her
slight frame. She sat carefully beside me. "Yoda said you would be here."

 "Yoda knows me too well." I sounded bitter.

 "What happened?"

 "I heard from Anakin."

 "What? What did he say?"

 "Very little. I don't know what's happening. I don't know if he's
being held, or if he's gone on his own. I know less than I did when I started,
it seems."

 Amidala rested her weight on her hands, regarding me. "Is there
any way of tracing the communication?"

 "No. If we had access to the Guard's relay logs, then we could
trace the signal. But the Guard is pulled out of this front in favor of
the Stormtroopers."

 "And without a communications trace..."

 "We have nothing."

 We sat in silence.

"I wish--" I said abruptly, then shook my head. "I wish we had time.
But there is none. If I had time, I could take a ship and just start looking.
I would find him eventually. But it could take months or years."

 "You don't want to give up, but sometimes there is no other choice.
You can't go look for him--but wait for him to come to you."

 I sighed. "I have always been an man of action."

 "i know. But he knows where you are now, and obviously he can
find you." She clasped my hand in hers. "I know, Obi-Wan, I know how you
feel. I feel the same way."

 I brought her hand to my lips, grateful for such a friend.

The Stormtroopers quickly beat back the Mandelorians. Too quickly, I
thought. But we were still lacking communication with Coruscant--the crucial
relay had never been repaired. All our news was coming from official sources.
We were stranded, helpless and impotent. I spent most of the day in meditation,
and the rest with Amidala; I found Master Yoda's serenity too frustrating.

When Amidala was seven months pregnant, Palpatine crowned himself Emperor.

Anakin contacted me again some few days after the ascent of the Emperor.
The call came from an anonymous spaceport holocom, his image flickering
and fuzzy from the many relays it passed through.

 Anakin looked terrible. Stubbled heavily, ghost-pale, his hair
greasy and straggly, uncut, his voice rough and raw.

 "Obi-Wan."

 "Anakin! Where are you? Did you escape, are you being chased?"
Frantic.

 "Obi-Wan, be quiet and listen. I have some things to tell you."

 "But--" I shut my mouth at his look. There was something alien
lurking in his eyes, something strange and familiar both.

 "I never have been what you wanted me to be. I never have felt
like a proper Padawan or a real Jedi knight." He paused. "The dark one...you
thought it was the Sith, but it's not. It's the dark one inside
me that keeps me away, that chews me up inside. The darkness you never
wanted to see, that I never could face. The darkness in my dreams."

 I was speechless.

 "We've never talked like this, Master," he said with a humorless
smile. "You never wanted to hear, I think. You preferred to listen to Qui-Gon."

 I flinched at the name, raw from nightmares.

 "Did you know that you talk to him at night, in your sleep? You
pray to him as if he's God. I hear. I listen."

 "Anakin." Whispering.

 "Qui-Gon was wrong. Yoda was right." He stopped again, staring
at me. "Clouded my future is. Much fear in me."

 "It doesn't have to be. Let me help you, let me try." Begging....Trying
to hold together the shards of my life.

 "You HAVE been trying! Fifteen years you've been trying! But you've
failed, I've fallen, I always was tainted! I've failed, you've failed,
everything failed."

 His eyes bright, his voice filled with so much pain that it cut
me to the bone.

 "The Sith has been talking to me. You killed the apprentice, you
know."

 My head snapped up. "Who--"

 "I'm sure you can guess. It's too late for me, don't even try
to find me. There's nothing to find. Just...keep Amidala safe for me."

 "I--I will."

 He nearly smiled. "You know, I haven't slept in months. I've fallen
unconscious but never really slept. I can't sleep without you by me, Master."

 I was silent.

 "Why didn't you ever tell me that you loved me, Master?" His voice
dwindling.

Because I said that to Qui-Gon, and then he died. "I thought--I did,
I--made it--clear." I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry, Anakin. I do love you."
I opened my eyes, looking on my lover. "I love you, Anakin."

 His face contorted. "You never could see your own scars, Master."
Anakin looked to one side abruptly. "Goodbye."

 The transmission blinked out.

 I think I felt despair...I think that was the emotion. It was
enormous and empty and consuming, hollowing me out as I sat there in shock.

I think the room spun, or maybe I did, because I was definitely dizzy.

 Anakin, gone.

Qui-Gon, worse than gone, dead and all his hopes proved false.

 Nothing to do but wait.

 Nothing to do.

 Nothing.

Events marched on. Communications were locked down even more than before,
and the public news slowly filled with propaganda. The Emperor was determined
to restore "order" in what used to be the Republic and now was the Empire.
Yoda was quietly making plans, preparing us for the worst. Apparently he
had managed to erase all records of our presence here, so we would be safe
until the child was born. It was proving to be a difficult pregnancy and
Amidala could not be moved.

The last communication. I was too exhausted to be shocked or surprised.
Anakin just looked harried.

 "How is Amidala?"

"The baby is born, this past hour."

 "Boy or girl?"

 "Boy."

 "Is he named yet?"

 "Not yet."

 "Look after him."

 "I will."

 He looked down. "Give him my light saber."

 "I will, love."

 "Goodbye, Obi-Wan. The Sith has caught up to me. If I see you
again I won't be the same man." Terrible sadness, terrible grief. I could
feel the tendrils of it over the last of the training bond, before Anakin
broke the bond entirely.

 "Goodbye, Anakin."

I turned off the holocom and closed my eyes.

 Goodbye, Anakin.

"Twins? But there was only one Force signature!"

 "Twins there are, Obi-Wan. The boy is stronger, guard him you
must. Our original plan we will keep. The girl will go with Amidala to
Alderaan, to Bail Organa. To Dagobah I will go, and hide among the life
there."

 "Will she be safe?"

 "Organa--a good man, he is. And ward the girl we may, to keep
her powers from awakening. But safe--that no-one is, Obi-Wan."

 I leaned heavily against the wall. "Was there no way this could
have been averted, Master Yoda?"

 Yoda crossed to me, and put his hand on my knee. "Know the future,
we may not. See it we may. Many paths there were, some leading here and
some not. Choose we did--choose wrong, perhaps. Jedi we are, not gods."

 "Why did you separate us?"

 "Share his dreams you did. Share his fall, you might have. Lose
you--we could not. Lost too much already, Obi-Wan."

 I remembered Yoda's grief at Qui-Gon's death. He stood in for
my Master when I was knighted, sharing my pain, matching it with his own.

I slid down the wall to face him. I took his tiny hands in my own, bent
my head over his. My forehead rested on top of his head. I quieted myself,
stilled my thoughts. I concentrated on his aura, a warm green glow, warm
with life and love. I let it fill me; all the empty spaces inside, the
missing links of bonds with Master and Padawan, lover and friend.

This was Yoda's blessing. This was his legacy now.

We received word some weeks later of Darth Vader--the creature Anakin
had become. He was the Sith's new apprentice now; the perfect choice, already
trained in the Jedi arts. The public news broadcasts as well as private
reports told us of the emperor's moves to imprison the Jedi, using his
Stormtroopers to round up the few remaining of our number. His propaganda
incited rioters against us, murdering groups of the citizens we had protected.
Those of us still on Coruscant--including most of the children in the creche
and the initiates--were barricaded inside the Temple. Mace, as the leader
of the Council, was tried and executed publicly for plotting against the
Empire.

We left Naboo with Amidala and a few, very few, that we were sure of.
Two handmaidens, Captain Panaka. She was still weak from the difficult
births but it was too dangerous to remain.

We mourned. All of us. There was nothing else to do.

Amidala lay sleeping softly, her two babies resting in the large bed
beside her. I sat on the floor on the other side of the

chamber. There were chairs, but I preferred to feel the soft thrum
of the engines through the floor.

She was so very beautiful, so strong, so wise. She had always been so.
But she hadn't seen. None of us had seen. We were blinded by the light
of the boy's overwhelming power, and never saw the darkness that surrounded
it.

Heat on my face as a slow tear escaped me. Was I crying, now? I had
not cried for Qui-Gon, for Mace, for the Jedi. I had not cried for the
loss of the Old Republic. I had not cried when my Anakin told me of his
descent into darkness.

 I cried now. For everything. For these babies that would never
know what the Republic had been. For the long voyage ahead.

My comlink beeped, awakening me.

"Master Yoda?"

 "Come quickly to my room. Hurry!"

 I leaped out of bed, pulling a shirt over my head as I ran down
the hall. Yoda awaited me with the boy's cradle. "Master, what--?"

 "Do not think--feel!"

 I quieted my mind and felt it--the growth of the Dark power, looming
and ready to burst.

 "Help me you must. Danger comes!"

 "No--"

 "Obi-Wan, prepare!" Yoda cried, and I ran to him, bracing and
supporting him, grounding him as he readied a channel for the disaster
we both knew was coming.

 And it came. Destruction, lashing at us, buffeting our fragile
spirits. The destruction of the Temple and the children and Knights trapped
there. Despair. Fear. Pain. The stored power of a thousand generations
of Jedi, released in a hurricane of psychic terror. Roiling evil, the enemy
of good; seas of blood, the great annihilator. The Emperor's final move
against the Jedi. It would have destroyed us, if we hadn't anticipated
it. I wonder how many it did destroy.

 Yoda stood firm amid the whirling currents. He focused and channeled
it into the infant boy, setting a spell of a sort I did not recognize,
an immense source of power hemmed in by Yoda's will.

The storm died down. The baby seemed to glow to my eyes.

 I let go of Yoda, unclenching his shoulders. We both were shaking.

"What did you do, Master Yoda?"

 "Gave him the power to use against the Dark Side. All the power
of the Jedi, and knowledge I gave him, deep inside. Knowledge to guide
him where we may not." He turned to me. "You must watch over him, Obi-Wan.
Done this I have, do more I cannot. Hidden his power must remain. Hidden
you
must remain."

 I looked at the infant, awake and cooing at the toys hung over
the crib. "I will." Qui-Gon...I could not keep Anakin safe. I must try
to save this one.

How much of my life would be bound to the Skywalker family, all from
a single moment's promise to my beloved master?

Luke. Amidala named the boy Luke.

I cradled him in my arms on the long voyage to my estranged brother's
farm on Tattooine, searching his face for some sign of his father. But
I saw only the bland innocence of an infant.

Luke was safe with my brother. Part of his latent power was woven into
a cloaking spell; his simple presence would protect those around him until
he discovered his powers. I traveled secretly, dressed as a workman, growing
a beard to hide my too-familiar face. I knew it wasn't safe or sensible,
but I had to see, I had to know.

 I went to Coruscant. To the remains of the Jedi Temple, my only
home. I looked at the wreckage, the graffiti, the remains of the life that
was. And I knew it was over.

 A presence brushed across me.

 "Anakin?" I whispered.

 "Anakin no more. Darth Vader now," was the answer.

 "Vader. Why not simply say 'Father'?"

 "You stole my child and twisted him against me," the electronic
voice said. He stepped into view; one arm mechanical, an opaque mask hiding
his face. His voice was drastically altered. There was nothing of Anakin
now.

 "Did your Sith Master tell you that?" My voice sounded dull. I
sounded defeated even to my own ears.

"All that and more. I've learned quickly, old man."

 "Have you?"

 He crossed the floor--the remains of the dining hall. His gait
was stiff and I wondered how much of him was still flesh.

 "Where is my son?"

 "Can't you feel him? He's on Tattooine."

 Vader flinched.

 "You can't touch him. Contact would destroy you."

 "So sure of your Jedi powers, old man?"

 "He holds the power and knowledge of the Jedi Temple, Vader, the
power that Palpatine though he destroyed. It lurks within him, bright like
suns, and to look upon it would destroy you utterly. Destroy you and bring
my Anakin back to me."

 He recoiled, his aura flickering. I could feel the conflict within
him. It spilled through his awesome power, coruscating through his link
with the Force. Suddenly he shouted, wordlessly, flinging himself away
from me and punching his electronic arm through the stone of the crumbling
wall.

 "Go, old man! And never come back."

 "I will, Darth." I turned, then paused. "You are always welcome
by my side, Anakin."

 Vader slammed his fist into the wall again.

 I left him then, in the ruins of the Temple. Alone.

 On the ship back to Tattooine, I dreamed. I dreamed a blue fog
surrounding me. Swallowing me. I dreamed a funeral pyre in the distance,
with a shadowed figure upon it; not human, but other. I dreamed a woman
standing in the middle, facing me, her face strong and gentle and almost
familiar. I dreamed a young man in the foreground, his back turned, looking
so much like Anakin that my heart ached, but yet not Anakin.

I dreamed myself, old and gray. But not alone. I dreamed my lover, Anakin,
near me, surrounding me, tendrils of thought woven through mine like a
mental embrace.

I dreamed of celebration untainted by bitter loss. I dreamed of hope.

 And when I awoke, I was ready to begin again.