The Supreme Chancellor's office....
Sheev Palpatine occupied one of the highest points in the Senate Building, a position that offered a commanding view of Coruscant's endless cityscape. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the planet's perpetual motion speeders flowing like rivers of light, buildings stretching toward the sky, the constant pulse of galactic civilization.
But Palpatine rarely looked at the view anymore. He'd seen it too many times, memorized every angle, calculated every strategic advantage it represented. Now, the windows were simply another tool and a backdrop for meetings, a way to make visitors feel small against the vastness of the Republic he controlled.
Today, those windows were darkened, the polarization activated to prevent any surveillance from outside. As the office's security systems hummed quietly, creating a bubble of privacy that even the most sophisticated listening devices couldn't penetrate.
Palpatine sat behind his desk, surrounded by holographic displays and datapads, each one containing information that would be invaluable to his enemies if they could access it. But they couldn't. He'd made certain of that.
The door opened with a soft hiss, and two figures entered without announcement. They didn't need to announce themselves, as Palpatine had been expecting them.
The first to come in was Mas Amedda who moved with the ponderous dignity. His blue skin and impressive horns making him an imposing presence. As Vice Chair of the Senate, he was Palpatine's right hand in all official matters, a position that gave him access to information most beings could only dream of.
Sly Moore followed a step behind, the Umbaran Force-sensitive a gray-ish pale skin and hairless head giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Where Mas Amedda was imposing, she was subtle, a shadow.
"Mas. Sly." Palpatine said not even bothering to look up from the holopad in his hands, his voice carrying the perfect blend of authority and casual familiarity. "Is there any word yet on that matter we discussed?"
Mas Amedda was the first to speak, his deep voice resonating in the quiet office. "Yes, Chancellor. It seems this... Noctis is gathering Republic senators from the Mid and Outer Rim, as well as those who have either joined the Confederacy or haven't yet decided their allegiance. They will be having a meeting in one week's time on the planet Tython."
Palpatine's hands stilled on the holopad. For just a moment, his carefully maintained expression flickered not with surprise, but with intrigue. Then he set the device down with deliberate care.
"Tython?" His voice was soft, almost contemplative. "How... interesting. The ancient Jedi world, and the birthplace of the Order itself when they were known as the Je'Daii. It's abandoned for millennia's, and now it's suddenly relevant again. Where there of all places, why now? The implications could be numerous but one thing can be for certain, the Jedi are connected in some way." Palpatine's mind worked through several different theories with the speed and precision of a master strategist.
The Jedi are moving, but why Tython? It's to far disconnected from the inner and Mid Rim. Not to mention navigating through the hyperspace lane route will be difficult for none Force sensitives.
His eyes narrowed slightly as his thoughts turned to the Jedi Temple and the discovery they'd made beneath it. The Sith shrine he'd so carefully concealed for years, now exposed. The Temple had become more restrictive since then, limiting public access, requesting additional security measures even to him.
They were caution, even fearful. Which can be good when controlled. Fear made people predictable, but there are still to many unknown's for them to predictable.
"Tell me have the Jedi up to anything, or has there been any unusual movements from the Temple? Any indication of what they might be planning?"
Sly Moore stepped forward, her voice as smooth and cold as ice. "From what my sources indicate, the Jedi Order is currently experiencing an internal schism. Nothing has become violent yet, but the division is significant." She paused, and Palpatine could sense her choosing her next words carefully. "A Padawan named Cain is leaving the Order, and he's not leaving alone."
Palpatine's expression remained neutral, but internally, his attention sharpened like a blade.
It's Cain, of course. That Padawan has always been interesting, maybe my words have gotten to him.
"He is leaving with several fellow Padawans, Knights, and even a few Masters are choosing to leave with him," Sly Moore continued. "Including Padawan Skywalker."
The silence that followed was profound. Palpatine let it stretch, using the pause to process this information and all its implications.
Mas Amedda produced a datapad and placed it on Palpatine's desk with careful precision. "These are the confirmed names of Jedi who are leaving the Order."
Palpatine picked up the datapad, his movements unhurried, his expression thoughtful. But his mind was racing, calculating, reassessing strategies that had been years in the making.
Cain.
He'd known about the boy for years, of course. Had heard the reports of his exceptional abilities, his unusual perspective, and his influence over other younglings and those whose are his seniors. When they'd finally met in person, Palpatine had been... impressed. No, more than impressed. Intrigued.
Looking into those golden eyes had been like staring into a sun, bright, burning, and impossible to look away from. The boy's presence in the Force was remarkable, a beacon of potential that Palpatine had immediately recognized as valuable.
I wanted him, Palpatine admitted to himself. I wanted to shape him, mold him, turn that brilliant light into something I could use.
But then Anakin Skywalker had arrived, the Chosen One who has more potential then Cain. And Palpatine's plans had shifted and evolved. Why settle for one exceptional apprentice when he could potentially have two?
He'd made it a point to cultivate relationships with both boys. Subtle influence, carefully placed suggestions, the appearance of genuine care and interest. With Anakin, it had been easier at first, the boy was lonely, isolated, desperate for approval and connection. Palpatine had simply provided what the Jedi Order denied him.
But Cain had been different it's like he was confident in who he was, and could just see through everything.
Palpatine had watched the reports over the years, had felt the shifts in the Force that always seemed to center around the two boys. Their power grew exponentially when they were together, and those who surrounded Cain seem to grow stronger. Plo Koon for instance. His presence in the living Force has become more noticeable.
Cain is like a Force seems to influence those around, like they are feeding off him. In a way is was both fascinating and concerning.
Even Anakin had started to change in a way he couldn't completely predict.
The lonely, sad slave boy from Tatooine had begun to transform into something else, someone else entirely. He was still brash and compulsive, but now he was happier, more confident, and less isolated. The darkness that would have formed from Palpatine had so carefully nurtured had begun to recede, replaced by something brighter.
Cain's influence, Palpatine had realized. Was changing Anakin, not just making him stronger but making him... whole in a sense. Not completely, there still a darkness in him from his slave days and leaving his mother behind. But it's not like how it was before.
So Palpatine had shifted his attention to Cain himself, attempting to cultivate the same kind of relationship he'd built with Anakin. The boy already saw things differently than most Jedi, he questioned the Code, and challenged the Order's teachings and views. He thought Cain had thought in ways that were almost Sith-like in their pragmatism.
It should have been easy, Palpatine thought, a flicker of frustration breaking through his calm exterior. He was already halfway to my way of thinking. But there had been something in the way Cain looked at him. Something that made Palpatine's instincts whispered warnings.
It was like the boy saw through him. Not completely, perhaps. But enough to be wary, to keep his distance, to smile and nod and never quite let Palpatine close enough to truly influence him.
He knows somethings I don't, Palpatine had realized during one of their conversations. But it wouldn't be fun or worth while if such a talented individual wasn't dangerous in a similar way.
So he'd changed tactics again. Instead of trying to convert Cain, he'd focused on maintaining a positive relationship with both boys. Choosing patience and the long game. Silently waiting for cracks to form, and for the opportunities to present themselves. For the moment when he could apply pressure and watch everything move in the direction he wanted.
And now Cain was leaving the Order, and his influence is so good, he is causing a schism. But the fact that this is happening around the same time as this Noctis meeting on Tython is to coincidental.
Is Noctis influencing Cain or are they working together?
The thought set off a light in his mind as made the connections, and theorize how the two are linked. But he knew without more info speculation can only go so far.
Palpatine then scrolled through the list of names on the datapad, his expression remaining thoughtful as he noticed the list of names. But internally, he was in a mix of joy and concern.
Plo Koon. Master Fay. Even the ancient droid Huyang. Forty Jedi in total, barely ten of them Masters, a few Knights, the rest Padawans and younglings. Not a significant loss to the Order's strength, Palpatine assessed. But the symbolism of this schism is what matters.
A schism in the Jedi Order is never not significant. A new faction will be formed if not several. Some might go to Corellia, others might become lost and vulnerable for manipulation. No to mention the appearance of weakness and division at a time when the Republic needed the Jedi to appear strong and united.
This was all to Perfect.
"Mas, do we know if they will be participating in this meeting on Tython?"
Mas Amedda nodded, his expression grave. "From what we've heard, a new order is forming on Tython so yes, and they will have two acting Grandmasters. No identities have been confirmed."
"But it's reasonable to assume they'll be present," Palpatine finished. He set down the datapad and steepled his fingers. " Two grandmasters? This is indeed interesting, have they already left Coruscant?"
"The flight logs say they departed the planet this morning," Sly Moore reported. "As far as we know, they're heading to Tython with a stop at Tatooine."
Tatooine. Palpatine's mind immediately went to Anakin's mother, still enslaved on that desert world. Interesting. He must be going back to see her, I should make it a point to have her killed when necessary.
He filed the information away for later consideration. Right now, there were more immediate concerns.
"Chancellor." Sly's voice drew his attention back to her. "I also have word of possible defectors who could serve as spies for us. A Jedi Master and their Padawan."
Palpatine's expression didn't change, but internally, he felt a surge of interest. "Oh? Do tell me more."
Sly Moore provided the details names, motivations, the leverage they could use to ensure loyalty. While Palpatine listened carefully, his mind already working through how to best utilize these new assets.
When she finished, he nodded slowly. "Excellent work, Sly. Make the necessary arrangements. But be subtle, we can't afford to have this traced back to us."
"Of course, Chancellor."
Mas then shifted slightly, a gesture that indicated he had more to say. "What would you have us do about this meeting on Tython? Should we attempt attend or send observers?"
Palpatine was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant, his mind working through possibilities and probabilities of what to do.
Going ourselves would be the most direct way to know what is going on. But it put's to much of a spotlight on me. Especially when I wasn't invited. This Noctis is smart enough to keep his identity hidden. I could send the Jedi, cause more of a schism and maybe a civil war could break out from ideology differences?
That can be a maybe, but there is no grantee since Cain is clearly loved and viewed positively by many in the order, and the council as well.
But if I do nothing, this new order could become a problem. A third faction in a galaxy that's supposed to be divided into two. That complicates everything that has already been planned.
Unless... A slow smile spread across Palpatine's face, something cold and calculative.
Unless I can use this. Turn it to my advantage and make it serve my purposes.
"No," he said finally. "We will not attend personally. In fact, we'll encourage it." He looked up at his two advisors. "A divided Jedi Order serves our purposes. Let them split and argue about philosophy and doctrine while the galaxy burns around them."
"But Chancellor," Mas Amedda said, his tone cautious. "If this new order gains significant support with this Noctis...."
"Then they'll be another faction to manipulate," Palpatine interrupted smoothly. "Another piece on the board. And pieces, my dear Mas, are only dangerous if you don't know where they are or what they're doing. Let this Noctis play revolutionary, without the proper resources and backer's he won't get far for sometime. And it will even more fuel for the use of the clone army when it's finally revealed."
He stood, moving to the darkened windows. "No, we'll watch and wait, and when the time is right, we'll make are move."
He turned back to face them, his expression grave and concerned, the perfect mask once more in place.
"But we will need eyes at that meeting. Someone who can assess this new order, determine their strength, identify their weaknesses." He paused. "I already know the perfect person who if was seen there won't be questioned to much."
Sly Moore's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're thinking of Count Dooku."
"I am." Palpatine moved back to his desk, his movements unhurried. " He is the leader of the CIS, and this Noctis is trying to take away his allies. It's only natural that Dooku see's for himself this upstart. And He has the perspective to understand what Cain is attempting, as a former Jedi himself, he might be able to establish a dialogue. Maybe give us insight to this Noctis, and the state of the leaving Jedi. "
He doubts Cain will be a threat of any kind right now, but if Cain does proves to be a threat. Palpatine thought, Dooku can educate him and Skywalker, and help them fall more. Or eliminate Cain. Either way two problems can be solved at once.
"I'll contact him immediately," Sly Moore said.
"No." Palpatine held up a hand. "I'll speak with him myself, you both may leave and resume your duties."
After Mas Amedda and Sly Moore left his office, Palpatine stood alone in the darkness.
Cain. Anakin Skywalker. Noctis. A new Jedi Order. A meeting on Tython. So many pieces moving and creating so many new opportunities.
He moved to his desk and opened a hidden compartment, retrieving a specialized holocommunicator. A specially designed one that couldn't be traced or intercepted.
He activated it and waited. It was time to speak with his apprentice.
Castle Serenno...Serenno
The training chamber on Castle Serenno was a masterpiece.
Located in the depths of Count Dooku's ancestral estate, the room was circular, approximately thirty meters in diameter, with walls of polished wood and marble carvings that bore the scars of countless training sessions. The floor was reinforced permacrete, designed to withstand the impact of heavy combat droids and the occasional Force-enhanced strikes.
High above, a vaulted ceiling was lined with sophisticated lighting systems that could simulate everything from bright daylight to the dim illumination of a starship corridor. Right now, they were set to a harsh, clinical brightness that left no shadows, no places to hide.
In the center of this chamber, Count Dooku moved like death given form.
He wore thick, and heavy training clothes. Weighted fabric that added at least twenty kilograms to his frame. The material was designed to restrict movement, and make every action require more effort, from strength to precision. Over his eyes, a mask impaired his vision, reducing his visual field to narrow slits while also restricting his breathing.
As sweat poured down his face, soaking through the mask, making each breath a conscious effort. His muscles burned with exertion, his heart pounded in his chest, and every movement sent waves of fatigue through his body.
But he didn't stop if anything he move faster, and struck hard.
Surrounding him were three custom-made 11-4D combat droids, each one holding vibro-blades in their four arms. The blades hummed with deadly energy, their edges capable of cutting through most materials with ease. The droids moved with inhuman speed and striked with precision, their programming designed to know all the Jedi lightsaber forms, and exploit every weakness of each form and recreate them while attacking without mercy or hesitation.
And circling above, three mini-spheres flew through the air, their repulsor fields allowing them to move in three dimensions. Each sphere was equipped with stun blasters, programmed to fire at random intervals, from random angles, creating a constant threat that Dooku had to track and respond to even while defending against the droids' relentless assault.
This is what it means to be Sith I must destroy myself and recreate myself every day, Dooku thought as he moved, his lightsaber a blur of crimson light. Not just in power or passion, but in discipline and dedication. The willingness to push beyond what he thought was possible form himself.
The first droid attacked from his left, all four arms moving in a coordinated pattern that would have overwhelmed most duelists. Eight vibro-blades created a web of death, each one aimed at a joint, a weak point, a place where armor couldn't protect.
Dooku's response was with pure Makashi, the elegant and precise Form II that he'd spent decades perfecting. His lightsaber moved in tight, controlled arcs, each movement was economical and efficient as wasted no energy. He didn't try to overpower the attacks; instead, he redirected them, using the droids' own momentum against them, turned their strength into weakness.
He parry and the riposte, then advance but never retreated.
The second droid attacked from his right, its programming incorporating elements of Ataru. It leaped and spun, its blades creating patterns in the air that were beautiful and deadly all at once.
Dooku shifted his stance, incorporating Soresu into his movements. His blade became a shield, creating a barrier of light that the droid's attacks couldn't penetrate. He gave no ground, and only waited through the to create an opening he could exploit.
My defense is only as strong as my conviction, the Force and the Darkside give me all I need. He reminded himself, Ones defense my be strong, fluid, and patience. Because that conviction in ones patience is power.
Then the third droid circled behind him, waiting for an opening, its programming based on Djem So. It would strike when he was distracted, and couldn't defend properly.
But Dooku was never distracted. Even as he fought the first two droids, even as his vision was impaired and his breathing restricted, he tracked the third through the Force. He felt its position, its intention, the moment it decided to strike, and then the spheres opened fire.
Two stun bolts screamed toward him from behind, aimed at his back, timed to hit just as the third droid attacked. It was a perfect coordination, the kind of multi-vector assault that would have killed most beings.
Dooku didn't panic or rush. Instead, he moved with the kind of precision that came from decades of training and an absolute mastery of his craft.
In one fluid motion, he redirected two of the eight vibro-blades attacking him from the left, using the Force to subtly alter their trajectory. The blades struck each other with a sharp clang, disrupting the first droid's attack sequence and causing it to stagger.
At the same moment, he shifted his body into a tight defensive position, his lightsaber moving behind him in a perfect mix of Soresu defense and Shien deflection. The two stun bolts struck his blade and were redirected with precise intent.
One bolt hit the second droid directly in its optical sensor. The machine's head exploded in a shower of sparks, and it collapsed to the ground, its limbs twitching as its systems shut down.
The other bolt struck the third droid's central processor. It froze mid-attack, its vibro-blades falling silent as its programming crashed. And then, before the first droid could recover from its disrupted attack, Dooku struck.
His lightsaber moved in a single, flawless arc a perfect thrust that severed the droid's head from its body. The machine collapsed, its limbs clattering against the floor.
Three more stun bolts fired from the spheres, coming from different angles, different heights, designed to be impossible to defend against all at once.
Dooku didn't even turn around.
His lightsaber moved in three quick, precise deflections, each one redirecting a bolt back toward its source. The spheres exploded in sequence, their remains falling to the ground with loud clanks that echoed through the chamber.
And then there was silence.
Dooku stood in the center of the chamber, surrounded by the wreckage of his training partners, his chest heaving with exertion. Sweat dripped from his face, soaking through his training clothes, pooling on the floor beneath him.
He removed the mask with a calm, controlled breath, revealing a face that was lined with age but still sharp and focused. His appearance more youthful in a way then he was years ago when he first started his training.
At seventy-nine years old, Count Dooku should have been slowing down, should have been feeling the weight of his years, but even without the Force completely fueling him, he was moving better then he was years before. He felt and was stronger than he'd been in decades.
He moved to a nearby bench where a protocol droid waited patiently, holding a tray with two cups. The droid's photoreceptors brightened as Dooku approached.
"Count Dooku," the droid said in its precise, mechanical voice. "Your performance today was exceptional. Shall I provide your post-training analysis?"
"Please," Dooku said, taking the first cup, a reddish liquid that contained a carefully calibrated mixture of nutrients, vitamins, and compounds designed to enhance blood flow and accelerate recovery.
He drank it in one long swallow, feeling the liquid burn down his throat, feeling his body begin to respond to the nutrients as he used the Force to help his body absorb it at a faster rate. Then he took the second cup, a bluish protein shake made from bantha milk and various supplements.
"Your reaction time has improved by forty-seven percent compared to when you began this training regimen three years ago," the droid reported. "Your speed and strength have improved by twenty-four percent. Your integration of multiple lightsaber forms has become significantly more fluid and effective."
Dooku listened as he drank, his mind cataloging the information, comparing it to his own internal assessment.
Good he was making progress, but not good enough. Not he was going prevent that vision he saw in the Force from coming true.
"Your best time to defeat all five training units was eleven minutes and twenty-four seconds," the droid continued. "Today's time was nine minutes and seven seconds. This represents a significant improvement from your original time of fifteen minutes and forty-five seconds when you first began...."
"Enough," Dooku interrupted, his voice sharp. "I understand."
He set down the empty cups and grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his face. His body ached, his muscles screamed for rest, but there was a satisfaction in the pain. A reminder that he was still capable, still dangerous, still worthy of the power he wielded in the Force and the dark side.
He thought he was long past his prime but is surprised by the result of his training, a bitter smile then formed on his face. To think that that vision of those two killing has only made me stronger.
"Have the droids repaired and ready in two hours," Dooku commanded as he moved toward the chamber's exit. "I'll need them again this evening."
"Of course, Count Dooku. Shall I prepare your meditation chamber as well?"
"Yes. And inform the kitchen staff that I'll be taking my evening meal in my study. I have... preparations to make."
As Dooku left the training chamber, his mind was already moving ahead, planning, calculating. His master had been pleased with his progress, and even provided him with these advanced training droids and the resources to push himself beyond normal limits.
Because he knows what's coming, Dooku thought. He knows that when the war begins, I'll need to be at my absolute peak. Not just to lead the Separatist forces, but to face the Jedi who will inevitably come for me.
He made his way through the estate's corridors, his footsteps echoing on polished stone floors. Servants bowed as he passed, but he barely noticed them. His mind was elsewhere, focused on the future, on the role he would play in reshaping the corrupt galaxy.
When he reached his private chambers, he stripped off the heavy training clothes, letting them fall to the floor with heavy thuds. Beneath them, his body was lean but powerfully bulk muscle, the type of physique of a man half his age. Created and maintained through relentless training and fueled by the dark side of the Force.
He moved to a full-length mirror and studied his reflection critically.
At seventy-nine, he should have been frail, weakened by age, Instead, he saw definition in his lean muscles, and felt like how he looked. Powerful
He showered quickly, washing away the sweat and grime of training, then dressed in his usual attire. The clothes were expensive, perfectly tailored, designed to project an image of sophistication and power. But beneath the elegant exterior, Dooku was a cold weapon ready to truly test his power.
He was making his way to his study when he heard the distinctive beeping of his secure holocommunicator the one that only his master used, the one that couldn't be traced or intercepted.
Dooku's expression didn't change, but internally, he felt a surge of anticipation. His master rarely contacted him directly unless there was something important to discuss.
He entered his study and activated the communicator. The holographic image that appeared was shrouded in a dark hood, the face barely visible, but Dooku would have recognized that presence anywhere.
He knelt immediately, bowing his head in respect.
"Master."
"Rise, my apprentice." Darth Sidious's voice was smooth, cultured, carrying an undercurrent of power that made the air itself seem to vibrate. "I trust your training progresses well?"
"It does, Master," Dooku confirmed, standing but keeping his head slightly bowed. "The droids you provided have proven most effective. I thank you for allowing me to use them."
Sidious waved a hand dismissively. "They are tools, nothing more, and tools are only valuable if they serve their purpose." He paused, and Dooku could feel his master's gaze studying him even through the holographic projection. "Tell me, Tyranus, have you heard the rumors about a certain Jedi Padawan leaving the Order?"
"I have, Master." Dooku kept his voice neutral, professional. "Cain. He's taking a number of Jedi with him to form a new order."
"Indeed." Sidious's tone carried a note of amusement. "And have you also heard about a meeting that will take place on Tython hosted by a Noctis? Supposedly they are gathering of senators, and Separatist leaders, as well as have the backing of this new Jedi faction?"
Dooku felt a flicker of surprise, though he was careful not to show it. "I did receive an invitation this morning, Master. I was planning to inform you once I had gathered more information about the meeting's purpose and attendees. As for this Noctis, I don't have much information on him yet. My spies say that he has no known background, and is very much unknown figure."
"I already know this." Sidious's voice carried approval. "You are nothing if not thorough, my apprentice. But I'm afraid time is of the essence. This meeting represents both an opportunity and a potential threat."
"How would you have me proceed, Master?"
"Attend the meeting," Sidious commanded. "Observe this Noctis and this new order. Assess their strength and goals. Determine whether they can be useful to us or whether they must be eliminated immediately."
Dooku nodded slowly, his mind already working through the implications. "And the leaders or Grandmasters of this new order? Do we know their identities?"
"Not yet. But I suspect we can make educated guesses." Sidious leaned forward slightly, his hood casting his face in even deeper shadow. "Cain is brilliant, charismatic, and dangerously perceptive, but I doubt he is vain enough to make himself the leader at just the level of a Padawan, even though he is close enough to be a Knight. If anyone it will probably be someone like Plo Koon, as for the other..." He paused. "That remains to be seen."
"And if Cain and Skywalker prove to be obstacles?" Dooku asked carefully. "If they interfere with our plans?"
The silence that followed was heavy with dark amusement. When Sidious spoke again, his voice carried a note of anticipation that sent a chill down Dooku's spine.
"Then you will do what any senior master would do when faced with wayward students." The holographic image seemed to smile, though the expression was hidden in shadow. "You will educate them, but do not eliminate the both of them."
"It will be done, Master," Dooku said, bowing his head.
"See that it is." Sidious's image began to flicker, preparing to disconnect. "And Tyranus? Be careful of the other Jedi there, I know Kenobi will be there, do not let sentiment stop you."
"I won't, Master."
The hologram vanished, leaving Dooku alone in his study. He stood in silence for a long moment, his mind working through everything his master had said, and everything he hadn't said.
Cain and Skywalker. Those two are indeed gifted and powerful in the Force. But soon they will learn it takes more then gifts to be the best.
Dooku moved to his desk and activated his personal terminal, pulling up information about Tython, about the meeting, about the various factions that would be attending. He studied it all with the careful attention of a master strategist, looking for weaknesses, opportunities, angles he could exploit.
He thought about his training, about the progress he'd made, about the power he'd cultivated. He was stronger now than he'd been in years, perhaps stronger than he'd ever been. But will it be enough?
I am Sith, he reminded himself. I am power. I am inevitable and these children no matter how talented, no matter how ambitious, will learn what it means to challenge the dark side.
He smiled, a cold expression that held no warmth, no mercy. One week, and then we'll see who truly understands power.
Tatooine
The twin suns of Tatooine beat down mercilessly on the desert world, turning the sand into a shimmering sea of heat and light. The air was dry, scorching, carrying the distinctive scent of hot sand and the faint metallic tang of moisture vaporators working overtime to extract water from the atmosphere.
Anakin stood in the middle of Mos Espa's slave quarter, his lightsaber hanging at his belt, and his Jedi robes already covered in a fine layer of dust which he hated. Around him, the familiar sights and sounds of his childhood surrounded him, and not in a good way. From the cramped buildings, the narrow streets, the constant background noise of a spaceport that never truly slept.
But everything felt different now, he was different now.
The last time he'd been here, he'd been a nine-year-old slave boy, desperate to escape, terrified of what his future might hold. Now he was fourteen, a Jedi Padawan, trained in the Force, skilled with a lightsaber, free in ways he'd never imagined possible.
But that freedom came with a cost. I left her here, Anakin thought, the guilt a constant weight in his chest. I left Mom here to suffer.
He'd tried to come back. Force knew he'd tried. He'd asked Obi-wan about returning to Tatooine, about buying his mother's freedom, about bringing her to Coruscant where she'd be safe.
But the answer had always been the same: We cannot do that, Anakin. The council will forbid it, saying you are not allowed attachments. And Anakin bit his tongue and had accepted it. But it was Cain who said screw that and one day he would help me free her and set her free of this hellish world.
And today was the day we would make good on that promise. But now, standing in the place where he'd grown up, the guilt and nervousness felt overwhelming to him.
What if I'm too late? What if something happened to her? What if...?
"Anakin."
He turned to find Barriss standing beside him, her dark blue eyes filled with concern. Along with Derren and Master Fay who were close by. While Cain and Seris had gone to the Krayt dragon graveyard.
They're good friends, Anakin thought, feeling a surge of gratitude. Better than I deserve, if it wasn't for Cain I don't think any of this would be possible. Force years I was thinking about leaving the Order, and Cain made it more then possible, and he made it look so easy.
"I'm okay," he said, though his voice was tight. "Just... remembering."
Barriss nodded, "It's okay Anakin, we know this must be alot for you."
Derren approached from the left. "I asked around. Watto's shop is still here, but he's not in right now. The woman you described as your mother wasn't there."
Anakin eyes narrowed as he felt his jaw tighten at the mention of Watto, the Toydarian who had owned him and his mother, who had treated them like property, who had profited from their suffering.
I could go there right now, Anakin thought, his hand unconsciously moving toward his lightsaber. I could make him tell me where Mom is. I could...
"Anakin." Master Fay's said, her voice was gentle but firm, cutting through his dark thoughts. "Remember your training. I understand you must be frustrated, but do not let that cloud your mind. Trust and Believe in the Force to guide you to her as you do your friends. Please remember who you are."
He took a deep breath, centering himself in the Force, pushing away the anger and the fear. I'mnot slave anymore. Not to Watto, or to the Jedi strict rules, or to my negative thoughts.
"You're right, Master," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize for feeling worried about your mother," Fay said, moving to stand beside him. "Your emotions are valid. Your concern for your mother is natural and good. But don't let those feelings control you. Use them to help you find and protect her. Channel them into determination, not rage."
Anakin nodded, feeling the wisdom in her words. This was why Cain had insisted they all train with multiple masters, to get different perspectives, different approaches, different ways of understanding the Force.
Cain knew I'd need this, Anakin realized. He knew I'd struggle with this moment. That's why he made sure I wouldn't be alone.
"We can ask around about your mom. Let's start with the moisture farmers, and go from there." Barriss suggested. "If your mother was not a Watto's shop, maybe she was freed, someone must have bought her freedom. And on Tatooine, everyone knows everyone else's business."
It was a good plan. The kind of approach that Anakin's emotions wanted to reject in favor of immediate action, but he knew it was the right choice. And he trusted Barris to be the heart of the group and hold them centered.
They spent the next several hours moving through Mos Espa, talking to people Anakin remembered from his childhood. Some recognized him immediately, their eyes widening in surprise at seeing the slave boy who'd left with the Jedi now returned as a Padawan. Others didn't recognize him at all, he'd grown and changed so much and became someone different.
It was an elderly Rodian woman who finally gave them the first real lead. She ran a small shop that sold water and basic supplies, and Anakin remembered his mother buying from her occasionally when Watto allowed them credits for personal use.
"Shmi Skywalker?" the woman said, her large eyes studying Anakin carefully. "Yes, I remember her. She was a good woman, so kind, she didn't deserve the life she had."
"Do you know where she is?" Anakin asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.
The Rodian woman nodded slowly. "She was bought by a moisture farmer. Cliegg Lars, I think his name was. A very good man. "
Anakin felt his heart leap. So she was free.
"When?" he asked. "When did this happen?"
"Oh, must have been... five years ago? Maybe a bit more?" The woman's expression softened. "The day after you left with the Jedi, actually. Lars came into town, went straight to Watto, and bought her. Then freed her right there. Married her too, from what I heard."
The day after I left. Anakin felt something twist in his chest, relief and confusion and a strange sense of loss all mixed together. She's been free this whole time. She's been married. She's had a whole life, and I didn't know.
"Do you know where I can find them?" he asked. "The Lars farm?"
The Rodian woman's expression shifted, becoming sad. "That's the thing, boy. They're not here anymore. The whole family left Tatooine about a year ago. Got hired by some off-world company to work as farmers and merchants on another planet. Paid them a fortune, from what I heard. Gave them enough credits to start a whole new life."
Anakin felt the world tilt beneath him. She's gone. She's not here. I came all this way, and she's not here.
"Do you know which planet?" Barriss asked, her voice gentle.
The Rodian woman shook her head. "No one does. They kept it quiet, didn't want anyone following them or causing trouble. But I heard they were happy about it. Excited. Like they'd won the lottery or something."
Anakin stood there, trying to process this information, trying to understand what it meant.
She's free and safe. She's somewhere in the galaxy, living a good life. But I don't know where, I mean I am happy for her, but I miss her so much. I just wish I could see her one more time.
"Anakin." Master Fay's hand on his shoulder was warm, grounding. "This is good news. Your mother is free, safe, and apparently thriving. That's what you wanted for her, isn't it?"
"Yes," Anakin said, his voice rough. "Yes, of course. I just... I wanted to see her. To tell her I'm sorry for leaving. To tell her I'm okay."
"And perhaps one day you will," Fay said. "The Force has a way of bringing people together when the time is right. For now, be grateful that she's safe, happy, and living the life she deserves."
Anakin nodded, trying to accept that, while trying to let go of the disappointment and the guilt. They thanked the Rodian woman and left the shop, stepping back out into the harsh Tatooine sunlight.
"What do you want to do?" Derren asked. "We could try to track her down. Ask around more. Maybe someone knows something."
Anakin was quiet for a long moment, feeling the Force around him, feeling the rightness of this moment despite the disappointment.
She's free. That's what matters. That's what I always wanted for her. And maybe... maybe it's better this way. Maybe she needs to live her own life, without me showing up and complicating things.
"No," he said finally. "We should head back to the ship. Cain and Seris are probably waiting for us."
Barriss studied his face carefully. "Are you sure? We can stay longer if you need to."
Anakin shook his head. "I'm sure. Mom is free, safe, and happy. That's all I ever wanted for her." He paused, feeling the truth of his next words even as they hurt to say. "And maybe... maybe she's better off without me showing up and reminding her of everything she went through here."
"That's not true," Barriss said firmly. "I'm sure she thinks about you and misses every day. I'm sure she'd love to see you."
"Maybe," Anakin said. "But right now, we have other things to focus on. The meeting on Tython, and everything that's coming." He looked at his friends, at Master Fay, feeling grateful for their support. "And I know that wherever Mom is, whatever she's doing, she'd want me to focus on that. To do what I'm meant to do."
Master Fay smiled, her ancient eyes filled with pride. "That's very wise, Anakin. She would be proud of the person you have become."
As they made their way back to the ship, Anakin felt the weight in his chest begin to lift. The guilt was still there, he suspected it always would be, but it was mixed now with relief, with hope, with the knowledge that his mother was out there somewhere, living a good life.
I'll find you someday, Mom, he promised silently. When the time is right and when he was ready. He was gonna make the galaxy is safe. But for now, I have work to do.
The ship was waiting for them at the edge of the spaceport, its ramp already lowered. As they approached, Anakin could see Cain and Seris standing at the top, both of them looking dusty and tired but satisfied.
"How did it go?" Cain called down.
Anakin climbed the ramp, his friends following behind him. When he reached the top, he met Cain's golden eyes and saw understanding there, as if Cain had known exactly what would happen, exactly what Anakin would find.
Did he know? Anakin wondered. Did he know Mom was gone? Is that why he suggested we stop here?
But he didn't ask. Some things didn't need to be said out loud.
"She's not here," Anakin said simply. "She was freed five years ago. Married a moisture farmer. They left the planet about a year ago to work somewhere else. No one knows where."
Cain nodded slowly, his expression sympathetic. "How do you feel about that?"
Anakin thought about it, really thought about it, examining his emotions the way Cain and Master Fay had showed him. "Sad," he admitted. "And disappointed. But also... relieved. I'm Happy for her, she deserves a good life, and it sounds like she has one."
"I'm sure she does," Cain said, and there was something in his voice, a certainty that made Anakin look at him more closely.
Seris spoke up. "We should get going, we have a long journey to Tython, and we need to prepare for when we get there."
"Agreed," Master Fay said. "Everyone, get cleaned up and rest. We'll depart within the hour."
As they walked toward the ship's interior, Anakin felt the last of his guilt and disappointment fade away, replaced by determination and hope.
Mom is safe. She's happy. She's free. And now it's time for me to focus on making sure the rest of the galaxy can be safe and free too no matter what it takes.
Sometime later the starship dropped out of hyperspace above Tython, and for a moment, everyone on the bridge fell silent.
The planet was beautiful like always
"It's like the planet is watching us like last time," Barriss whispered, her eyes wide.
"It is," Master Fay said, her voice carrying a note of reverence. "Tython is one of the most Force-sensitive worlds in the galaxy. The place where the first Force-users learned to understand their gifts. And like before you all learn to open yourself up to the Force more."
I stood at the viewport, my golden eyes reflecting the planet's light, his expression unreadable. I could feel Anakin anticipation for the adventure ahead. Everyone else was similar in their feelings, and it felt so real that they were doing this now.
This is where we start building something new, but also make a large target on our backs. And everyone in the galaxy will be looking.
The ship descended through the atmosphere, and as they got closer, they could see the ancient Jedi Temple rising from the landscape. It was smaller than the Temple on Coruscant, less imposing, but there was something about it that felt more authentic, more connected to what the Jedi were supposed to be.
The structure was built from stone that seemed to have grown from the planet itself, its architecture blending seamlessly with the surrounding forest. Towers reached toward the sky, but they didn't dominate the landscape, more like they complemented it.
And around the Temple, movement can be seen. Many People working, carrying materials, using the Force to lift heavy objects and shape stone. The other Jedi who had arrived before them, already beginning the work of restoration.
"There," I said, pointing toward a cleared landing area near the Temple. "That's where we'll set down."
The ship descended smoothly, its landing gear extending, its engines humming as they prepared for touchdown. As they got closer, Anakin could see a figure waiting for the. Master Plo Koon.
The ship settled onto the landing pad with barely a tremor, and the ramp began to lower. Cain was the first one down, meeting his master at the platform.
Anakin followed, with Seris, Barriss, and Derren close behind. Master Fay brought up the rear, her ancient presence a comforting weight at their backs.
"Welcome back," Plo Koon said. "Your journey was successful, I take it?"
"Very," Cain said, gesturing toward the ship. "We have plenty dragon pearls, bones, and several other valuable materials. Enough to fund our operations for quite some time."
Plo nodded approvingly. "Excellent. The others will be pleased to hear it. We've made good progress on the Temple restoration, but there's still much work to be done."
"How many are here?" Seris asked, looking around at the activity.
"Forty-three Jedi in total," Plo said. "Ten Masters, seven Knights, and the rest are a mix Padawans and younglings. Plus the farmers and merchants who arrived yesterday, they've set up a temporary settlement in the valley to the east."
Plo continued. "Speaking of which, a youngling named Ahsoka said there's someone there who's been asking about you, padawan Skywalker. They been coming to the temple ever few hours."
Someone asking about me? he thought. That's when he saw her.
Walking toward them from the direction of the Temple, moving with the kind of grace that came from years of hard work and harder living, was a woman with sun-kissed fair skin and long brown hair.
Anakin's breath caught in his throat. No. It can't be. She's not here. She's on another planet. She's...But even as his mind tried to deny it, his heart knew the truth. "Mom?"
The word came out as barely a whisper, but it was enough. The woman's head snapped up, her eyes finding him across the distance, and her face transformed with joy and disbelief and love all mixed together.
"Ani?"
And then Anakin was running.
He didn't think about it, didn't plan it, didn't consider how it might look for a Jedi Padawan to abandon all composure and dignity. He just ran, his feet pounding against the ground, his heart racing, his eyes locked on the woman who had given him life, who had loved him unconditionally, who he'd thought he might never see again.
Shmi ran too, overwhelmed with the need to hold her son.
They met in the middle, and Anakin threw his arms around her, holding her tight, feeling her warmth, her realness, the proof that she was here, she was alive, she was safe.
"Mom," he said, his voice breaking. "Mom, I'm so sorry, I should have come back sooner. I should have...."
"Shh," Shmi said, her hands cupping his face, her eyes, so much like his own, filled with tears. "Don't apologize, Ani. Don't you dare apologize. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You became free and that's all I ever wanted for you. Look at you, you became strong, and everything I always knew you could be."
"But I left you," Anakin said, the guilt he'd been carrying for five years finally breaking free. "I left you there, and I never came back."
"You were nine years old," Shmi said firmly. "You were a child. You didn't have a choice and I didn't want that life for you, Ani. I wanted you to be free and have the opportunities I couldn't give you. And Qui-Gon gave you all of that."
"But what about you?" Anakin asked, pulling back to look at her. "What happened? How are you here?"
Shmi smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing Anakin had ever seen. "That's a long story. But the short version is that a very kind man bought my freedom the day after you left. Married me. Gave me a life I never thought I'd have." Her smile widened. "And then, about a year ago, we were offered an incredible opportunity by a woman. A chance to leave Tatooine, to work as farmers and merchants on a new world, to help build something important."
" On Tython?" Anakin said, understanding dawning.
"On Tython," Shmi confirmed. "We didn't know why at first. Didn't know what we were really being asked to do. But when we arrived and saw the Jedi Temple, saw what was being built here..." She looked around, her expression filled with wonder. "I knew. I knew this was where I was supposed to be. Where we were all supposed to be."
Anakin felt tears streaming down his face, but he didn't care. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd never see you again."
"Oh, Ani." Shmi pulled him close once more, and Anakin let himself be held, let himself be a child again for just a moment. "You could never lose me. I'm your mother. I'll always be your mother and I'll always be with you. No matter where we are, no matter how much time passes, that will never change."
Behind them, Anakin could feel his friends watching, could sense their emotions through the Force, joy, relief, happiness for him. And underneath it all, a sense of rightness, as if the Force itself was pleased by this reunion.
He pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes, trying to regain some composure. "There's so much I want to tell you. So much that's happened."
"And I want to hear all of it," Shmi said, her hands still holding his face like she couldn't quite believe he was real. "But first, introduce me to your friends. I want to meet the people who've been taking care of my son."
Anakin turned, and his friends were there was Cain with his knowing smile, Seris with her usual stoic expression softened by genuine happiness, Barriss eyes filled with tears in her, and Derren grinning like an idiot.
"Mom," Anakin said, his voice stronger now, filled with pride. "These are my friends."
He introduced them one by one, and Shmi greeted each of them with warmth and genuine interest. When she got to Cain, she paused, studying him with eyes that seemed to see more than they should.
"You," she said softly. "You're the one who arranged this, aren't you. The woman Bo-Katan, she said that you were a Jedi with beautiful eyes, and a friend of my son, and that if me and my family come we will have a better life and I will get to see my Ani again. This was really your doing?"
Cain didn't deny it. "Your son is my friend ma'am. Making sure his mother was safe and happy was the least I could do. Now he can train and focus know that he can see you everyday if he wanted to."
Shmi's eyes filled with tears again, and she pulled Cain into a hug that he clearly hadn't been expecting. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for taking care of him, and thank you for giving him a family. Thank you for bringing us back together."
"You're welcome," Cain said, his voice rough with emotion. "But I didn't do it alone, We all take care of each other. Force knows these guys keep me grounded and help me more then I help them."
As Shmi released Cain and turned back to Anakin, the clouds above them began to shift. The thick cover that had been blocking the sun parted, and a single shaft of golden light broke through, illuminating the spot where mother and son stood.
It was as if Tython itself was acknowledging this moment, celebrating this reunion, blessing this new beginning.
Master Plo Koon stepped forward, his presence commanding but gentle. "Shmi Skywalker, on behalf of Obi-wan who is not here right now, I welcome you to Tython. Your presence here, and the presence of all the families who have come to build this community with us, is a gift. A reminder that the Jedi are not separate from the galaxy, but part of it."
Shmi bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Master Jedi. My family and I are honored to be here. To be part of something so important."
Around them, other Jedi had stopped their work to watch, drawn by the emotional resonance of the reunion. Some smiled while others looked confused, uncertain how to process this display of attachment that the old Code would have forbidden.
But no one looked disapproving. Like all things it was a adjustment.
Because in this moment, on this planet, surrounded by the living Force, it was impossible to deny the rightness of what they were witnessing.
Young Ahsoka Tano, who had been watching from a distance, approached slowly, her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Master Plo," she said softly, tugging on his robes. "Is this what the new Order will be like? Families together, and people being happy?"
Plo Koon knelt down to her level, his masked face somehow conveying warmth despite its alien features. "Yes, little one. This is exactly what we're building, a place where Jedi can be whole people, not just warriors. Where we can have connections, relationships, families. Where we can be strong not despite our emotions, but because of them. And one day I would hope to reunite you with your own."
Ahsoka's face lit up with a smile that could have powered a small sun. "I would like that a lot."
As the sun continued to shine down on them, Anakin felt more at peace then he had felt in years. He was with his mother and no one judged him for it.
"Come on," Shmi said, linking her arm through his. "Walk with me, and tell me everything. I want to hear about your training, your adventures, your friends. I want to know everything about the man my little boy has become."
As they walked toward the Temple together, which was now bathed in the setting light of Tython's sun, Anakin felt a peace he'd never known before.
I smiled as the two walked off, feeling accomplished in what I did. "Happy Birthday Anakin."