The Weaving Force: Chapter 123 (Patreon)

Chapter 123:

Anakin:

He woke with a start his heart beating under his ribs, the remnants of a dream tickling his mind in ways he couldn’t place but still sent his heart to racing and his fingers tingling and twitching with adrenaline. 

He didn’t move from his place on the bed, feeling Padme at his side, the Force presence of their child stirring just beneath her own. 

The thought of that filled him with so much joy… and so much absolute dread.

He didn’t feel ready to be a father.

He barely felt ready to be a Council member, and he’d already been one for nearly two years now…

How on earth was he going to raise a child? Someone that would be counting on him, trusting him completely?

He’d never been quite so terrified.

Honestly, next to that… the ‘fear’ of the Council finding out was almost laughably miniscule

“Ani.”

He turned his head ever so slightly, finding Padme watching him with a single opened eye. “What woke you?” She mumbled, shifting and settling deeper into her pillow.

Anakin let himself smile just a bit. Of the two of them, she usually woke up earlier. He would have offered a shrug but her eyes were closed, so he shifted so he was facing her sleeping face as he answered. “Dunno. Think it was a dream, but one of those dreams you can’t remember when you wake up.”

“That’s nice.” She was already half asleep again and judging by the level of light filtering in through the thin slits of the window blinds, he’d guess they had at least another two hours before they both had to wake up.

He debated internally on wether or not he should open his mouth, and tell her about his fears, wonder aloud where she could hear, that more than once he’d considered telling Obi-Wan, or Victoria, or Taylor about them. What she would think about it. How she would react.

But looking at her sleeping face… he didn’t want to wake her. He wanted to watch her at peace for however long they had…

It was so rare- so very rare he got to see her these days. The last time he’d stayed over had been… well… just about three months ago when they ‘made’ the current reason for his insomnia. 

The smile pulled at his lips again, his hand reaching out to rest on her slightly  swollen middle, feeling the strong force presence there. It glowed like a bright star. 

—

“Master Skywalker, welcome.”

It was a Padawan that greeted him as he entered the temple archives bowing formally, Anakin bowed back, hands folded into his sleeves. “Good morning Padawan.” He answered with an easy smile. “I trust things haven’t started quite yet?”

It was a rhetorical question, he was about fifteen minutes early.

The Padawan shook his head. “No sir, would you like me to show you the way?”

“No need Padawan, return to your duties.” He said, already sensing the various force signatures gathering somewhere deeper in. Likely near the restricted section in one of the meditation or debate halls. 

As he walked, many Padawans, Knights and even some Masters, bowed in respect and greeting as he passed by, and that wasn’t something he was sure he’d ever get used to. 

Still, he bore it as best he could, and drawing closer, he wasn’t exactly surprised to sense that Obi-Wan, Taylor, Victoria, Master Nu and Master Yaddle were already present as well. 

He waved his hand, opening the door with the easy use of the Force entering the chamber in time to see not only the aforementioned Masters, but several archivists and scholars making busy as they waited for the necessary arrivals. 

As soon as he entered, Obi-Wan turned to him, a look of, almost relief passing through his Master’s eyes alongside the very real gratitude as he nodded in greeting. “Anakin.”

“Master.” Anakin answered back with a light bow, making his way to join the collective of Councilors milling about.

He turned towards the housing currently holding the lightsaber. Frankly, it seemed more fit to hold a bomb. Magnetically held in place in a field not letting it touch any surface. The half cut saberstaff floated there, oozing Dark Side malevolence just as it had when they first found it. 

Anakin didn’t remember Maul, not beyond a vague, dark shadow in his distant past. 

But he could remember that Force signature.

“Where are Padawan Kestis and Master Vos?” He asked.

Unsurprisingly, Taylor answered him. “Vos is about fifty steps away from the door. Cal is heading down the elevator now with Rancisis.”

“Has anyone ever told you that local awareness of yours can be highly off-putting?” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Plenty of times.” Taylor answered blithely as the door hissed open somewhere behind him.

Anakin turned. As promised there was Master Vos.

“Obi-Wan.” The roguish Jedi Master smirked, sauntering over to them. 

“Quinlan.” Obi-Wan nodded with his own, small smile. “Thank you for coming.”

Vos wasn’t someone Anakin was very familiar with and, personally, he didn’t wish to be. He knew the man was Obi-Wan’s friend and Aayla’s former master, but he had a reputation with the clones. One that did not endear Anakin to him at all.

But, if only for Obi-Wan’s sake, he made an effort to be polite, bowing slightly at the Jedi Master. “Hello Master Vos.”

“Ahh.” Quinlan nodded back, smiling. “Young Skywalker.”

“I believe his title is Master.” Taylor corrected, pointedly.

It seems she didn’t hold Vos in much high regard either.

“Of course.” Quinlan answered, turning to Obi-Wan with another easy smile. “Its just… odd to see how much they’ve grown since their Padawan days.”

“True.” His Master agreed; giving Anakin a smirk. “It must be just as odd for you seeing Aayla on the Council.”

 The man shrugged. “Most days yes Then others I think it suits her perfectly.”

Turning his head the Master looked towards the stand housing the lightsaber. “That’s it then, huh?”

“That it is.” Obi-Wan acknowledged.

Vos tossed a quick look around the room, as if searching for someone.

“Look, before he gets here-” Apparently he’d been searching for someone’s absence rather than their presence. “Are you all sure a Padawan should do this? I’m more than capable of handling this myself. No need to risk someone so young.”

Each of the Masters around Anakin shifted uneasilly, and he felt more than saw Taylor go still, in that unnatural way of hers before she answered.

“Its Callous… but we’re not giving him this task with you for your benefit necessarily.”

Vos raised an eyebrow. “I’m not following.”

Master Yaddle shook her head sadly, eyes downcast. “On the front lines, you are Master Vos. Invincible you are not… many Jedi we have lost.”

Anakin realized what they were saying about a split second after Vos seemed to.

“Ahh…” The Master said, pausing before crossing his arms. “If I die… you want someone else who has some experience with psychometry if its needed again. And given I’m the only one with a talent for it and can die at any second in the war-” He trailed off.

Unlike Vos. Anakin had access to the exact attrition rate the Jedi were facing.

With that knowledge, he couldn’t exactly blame the Council, or evenYaddle,  Victoria and Taylor, three definite surprises, at reaching this decision.

Before the war started, the Jedi order was a little over eleven thousand Jedi. With a little over three thousand being Jedi Masters.

As the War stood today- three and a half years in. They couldn’t confidently say that there were a thousand Masters left.

Knights similarly, once the bulk of their available manpower pool, had been hit just as hard, reduced by nearly half. Around five and a half thousand now down to just under three thousand.

Only the Padawans had been spared such a grievous cull, and only just.

And still, more and more, he saw the roster of Knights getting younger and younger with every passing month. 

Iskt and Karla were up for consideration given their abilities and Karla wasn’t even a teenager quite yet. 

This war had to end. And soon. 

“The Lightsaber probably isn’t the best thing to toss him into the deep end with-” Vicky winced, speaking up for the first time. “But having at least someone there with him, and several Masters around him ready to intervene if we need to its about as ‘safe’ as we can make it. And if something happens to you well…” She also trailed off.

“I get it.” Vos sighed, shaking his head. “It’s hardly ideal… but these days nothing really is with this war.”

Before the subject could continue much further, the door hissed open, Cal and Master Rancisis entered the room.

Anakin had to give Vos credit, he gave not a single inkling as to his own concerns when he turned, smiling a cavalier smile at the young Padawan. “Hey kid, Master Rancisis. You ready?

—

He stood between Victoria and Obi-Wan. Taylor next to Vicky. Obi-Wan stroked at his beard, fighting the urge to pace back and forth, Vicky chewed on a nail, and Taylor was made of granite and stone in body and in the force.

They were nervous. Likely, each of them for their own reasons. 

These days, outside of thoughts of Padme, his children, his capability or worthiness as a Council member and the occasional close call on a battlefield with Ahsoka, it was rare for Anakin to get anywhere near nervous.

Run his starfighter straight through an active orbital engagement to the enemy capital ship and use his own starfighter as a triangulation beacon for his allies to shoot said capital ship? Easy. Womp rats on Tattoine were smaller and faster.

Argue with Master Yoda, Windu or Yaddle over some point or other during Council meetings? No problem. They had nothing on a stubborn Obi-Wan.

Face down and delay Grievous for three days while Vicky was on her way? Absolutely. He and the 501rst weren’t known as the ‘Lightning Legion’ and the ‘Laughing Killers’ for nothing. The ‘Murder Blender’ as Vicky dubbed him couldn’t kill what he couldn’t catch. 

So no, Anakin didn’t get nervous very often anymore.

But as the Masters gathered around the room,  and Archivists spread around to take notes and record everything- Master Vos and Padawan Kestis kneeling at the center, lightsaber between them… he couldn’t help but feel nervous. As if something was just ever so slightly off here.

But he had no idea what it could be. Even reaching through the Force, he felt nothing. So he kept his silence, watching, waiting alongside his fellow councilmen.

Quinlan instructed Cal quietly, whispering at the younger man, easing the both of them into a deep, trance-like meditation. 

Anakin didn’t… follow them. Not willingly at least.

It was at moments like this, when his ignorance was shoved in his face when he wondered if he was worthy of his Council seat.

He couldn’t imagine Master Yoda, or even Master Plo, the Master he’d nominally replaced, ever being so ignorant as to have no idea what the hell he did.

But regardless of his insecurities, he felt himself… slip. Sliding straight into the echoes howling through the Force from the lightsaber brought to the fore because of the two Psychometry wielders. 

He felt the wave of feeling immediately.

Pain.

But overwhelming the pain, blanking out everything else, flooding the system so much death could never take hold.

Rage.

It was so overwhelming, so all encompassing, that he, unprepared as he was, nearly felt himself being proverbially bowled over by the sheer deluge of raw emotion.

He felt more than ‘saw’ Vos shield Cal from the effects, practically throwing himself over the Padawan in the echoes of the Force to take the brunt of the onslaught. 

The Rage crystalized taking shape and becoming focused.

KENOBI!!!

He heard the distant howl thrumming through his own chest, red pulsed through his veins and it took genuine effort for Anakin to push down the invading presence of Maul’s overwhelming hatred. The hate that had kept him alive through what should have been a certain death. 

Black and red swirled and whirled in his vision. Nothing at all was clear to him, no information beyond the feelings. So he focused. Either to escape or delve deeper Anakin reached into the Force.

The colors danced, black and red becoming mottled browns, he felt the grit of dust and sand on his skin, howling winds, the smell of rusting metal. Wires slicing into flesh, and ever constant was the pain.

He had no legs, and then he had six, his body was not his, this world was not his, this life was not his.

His life had been stolen. 

KENOBI!!!

An eternity in this hell, uncountable years slipping through the rust and the grime.

Sidious will come.

Sidious never did. 

Hate, ever burning, settled somewhere deep within. Spreading out from its singular focus of Ke… His Master, Obi-Wan- to the rest of the Galaxy, to the Master and everyone that had placed him in this hell.

You are the brother I have been searching for!

No. Nonono NO!

The memory lanced through the morass of unclear colors and images like a knife. Sharp and clear. Pulled free by Vos or Cal’s more experienced hands. 

Anakin could see a towering Zabrack with yellow toad skin lumbering forward, Maul pulling back- deep shame warring with uncertainty, fear and gratitude all at once

The colors swirled and whorled again and Anakin felt the vision slip away, like water through a net; he had no chance to grasp it, no opportunity to even attempt such with his own fumbling skills.

He saw a glimpse of the red world. Dathomir like a fading dream before it was gone.

ARISE MAUL! REBORN SON!

Anakin didn’t recognize the voice he heard, nor the sharp vision of the face that accompanied it. Pale, hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.

But a name was pulled from the echoes of memory, slipping into his own mind as if he’d known it all along. 

Talzin.

Mother.

His body was his, his mind clear. He was Maul once more. His hate still burned. For Kenobi.

And his Master.

Anakin felt something pulse through the vision something shifting within it. Vos, or Cal? He wasn’t sure. But the vision became clearer still… more recent.

The echoes grew louder.

“You misunderstand my son. It has nothing to do with saving Jedi. Merely ensuring Sidious does not prevail.”

It was the woman’s voice. The mother’s Voice. Talzin. Marching through the temples and arcades of their ancient, shadowed home as Maul followed behind her with Savage

Savage. That was his name. Savage Opress

“Why now?” His brother asked. “What’s changed?”

“It was only a matter of time before our alliance of convenience was no longer convenient-” Talzin answered easily. “Should Sidious become too strong and the Jedi too weak, he will turn his attention to us in time. This cannot be allowed”

“And you feel that now, The Jedi have been weakened enough that if we don’t strike, it will be too late.” Maul’s voice pulsed with hate and rage, the wheels turning within. Realizing that Talzin had always intended this. To weaken the Jedi, still their ancient enemy, and eliminate Sidious right before the moment of his triumph.

“Precisely.” She responded, the smile evident in her voice. “We have more than enough information to ruin his plans. It’s time that we-”

She trailed off. Maul sensed it too.

A disturbance in the Force.

Anakin could guess what happened.

Sidious had struck first.

The vision lurched, shifting so suddenly, Anakin almost felt vertigo at its rushing prism of colors and sounds. His senses were bombarded, and he suddenly had a Lightsaber in hand, charging headlong into the fray, his brother at his side, blades slashing into metal, blasters firing, sorcery howling through the air.

The skies darkened with droid numbers and the Monster, the Jedi Killer, rushed forward, four blades tearing through Dathomiri warriors as Maul could hear his cackling laughter carried on the blood red winds.

The vision shifted, his lungs burned, his arms were heavy. Even his lightsaber, light as it was, felt like a lead weight and still he had to move, to keep fighting as blade crashed upon blade, throwing him like a doll across the canyon walls as the metal monster bore down on him with ferocity and impossible strength.

The ship. He couldn’t let him reach the ship!

He brought his blade up, one more time, before it was cut clean in two, as his exhaustion made him misjudge the distance the head clattering to the ground a second before a clawed kick sent him crashing into the rocky wall.

“Brother!”

The vision ended suddenly, abruptly. One moment hearing Savage rushing to his side and the next… nothing.

Anakin wondered if Maul had died and simply never saw the blow coming.

“Master?”

Anakin whirled around, surprised to find, not a vision but…

“Cal? Master Vos?”

The two Psychometry wielders looked just as surprised as he was, with Vos looking this way and that way before he stood from his meditative pose. “What is-”

“My, my.”

Anakin felt a very real chill crawl down his spine.

He didn’t turn, and yet, placing Cal behind him even though he knew he could do no such thing in this place where space and distance meant nothing even as his vision found their enemy.

Sidious.

“Three. So many.”

He was veiled in shadow, his eyes almost glowing like embers.

Anakin could feel him smile.

“This was a trap.” Vos breathed, horror dawning on him. 

The Sith lord straightened, cackling that same laughter Anakin had heard on the winds of Dathomir.

His eyes, glowing yellow, shifted to green.

Anakin knew what that was, through glimpses and half echoed memories. 

Dathomiri sorcery.

The young Council member drew on the Force, with all of his considerable power and skill, inundating himself with raw, pure energy as the construct brought up its hands and released a torrent of lightning.

He knew immediately, Vos and Cal would die.

The power was… indescribable. Anakin had never been one to be impressed by raw displays of power simply because hardly anyone could match him even on an off day. But right at this second he felt almost overwhelmed in the split second it took for the torrent of energy to close whatever passed for distance in this place.

And then- he had no time for hesitation, no time for second guessing. Vos threw up a shield that popped like a soap bubble mere milliseconds before Anakin found his wits and poured all of his strength into defending the three of them.

It was like a meteor crashing into a planet. Anakin felt himself strain, the raw power of this torrential lightning storm smashing over his shield to crackle with splits and forks above and around him as he fell to one knee.

Cal placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, the young Padawan’s almost meagre Force presence adding to Anakin’s veritable ocean and Vos, knocked on his ass, scrambled to get back to his feet and help.

The shield wavered, warped and threatening to buckle Anakin felt his physical body get thrown across the archive room, slipping out for the barest of seconds before he was sucked back into the mind trap and focusing with all his might and skill to hold back the tide.

The others had to know something was wrong. He just had to hold out until they did… somethi-

The onslaught ended and Anakin woke with a gasp and a scream, pure power bursting out of him and sending Obi-Wan sailing clear across the room with a startled scream before he smashed into two archivists in a tumble of limbs.

Master Yaddle similarly was overwhelmed, thrown off her feet, the tiny Jedi Master spun in the air, feet finding purchase on an archive stack before leaping off it with a flip to land on her feet.

Anakin could feel his heart pounding under his ribs, trying to get to his feet and failing no less than three times before the panic subsided and he was able to take full stock of the world around him.

Obi-Wan was picking himself up off the ground, helping the others, Master Rancisis was beside a harshly breathing Cal, Master Cordova and Cere were helping Vos, Taylor was making certain Yaddle was alight.

Vicky was crushing the remains of the Lightsaber under her boot; eyes alight with anger born out of a very real fear. “Anyone wanna fill me in on what the hell just happened!?” She shouted into the room.(X)(X)(X)

I will answer truthfully anyone who correctly guesses what's going on :pSo if you'd like to speculate, feel free!Next chapter is a very very special one, with a very important POV that adds... perspective :3