A Change of Pace (ARCHIVE)

Chapter Three: The Dark

((Get ready boys. This is a long one -Jesse))

The meeting had dragged on long enough that the Jedi escort for Queen Amidala, now including Kekrou and his (now official) padawan. But now Kekrou simply walked down the hallway with Anakin to go speak with the quartermaster to get a room.

As they walked in, Kekrou stopped in his tracks. "You'll pass word to him when he gets here?"
"Why don't you tell him yourself, Master Naru?"

Kekrou was met with his own eyes and long forgotten grin, as well as the familiar face of his former padawan. News of Sebra Naru's "twin" had spread fast it seemed. Sebra seemed excited anyway, eyes occasionally drifted to Kekrou's hand, which told him that someone had let his past self know what exactly was going on.

Sebra walked over, and his next words told Kekrou exactly what was happening.
"Master Jinn told me that my twin was back in town, but I didn't believe him. None of us had heard from you in so long you lost your room, so I took the liberty of getting a new one for both of us!" There was that silver tongue Kekrou had long cultivated. Falsehoods always fell from his mouth easily.

"It's good to be back, little brother."
"Wh— Hey you're a minute older than me!" Oh Kekrou knew he was going to enjoy the banter. The same age as himself, pretending to be twins? How could he not have some fun?

He gave a warm chuckle. "Lead the way. Anakin and I are both exhausted."

Kekrou picked up Anakin, who was dead on his feet by this point and bored out of his mind, walking alongside his past self. Shmi eventually found them, as guided by Qui-gon, who explained that she'd be staying at the temple until she got onto her feet.

Kekrou and Shmi ended up sharing a bed, since neither wanted to let the other sleep on the couch. Neither of them objected though. Coruscant was far colder than Tatooine, and some time during the night Anakin joined them after he had a nightmare.

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Kekrou got up early in the morning, feeling restless. He tried not to disturb his padawan and Shmi, as he crept into the kitchen. He found his past self doing the same. Sebra chuckled, "Couldn't sleep either?"
"Nah, figured I'd—"

They ended up saying it at the same time. "Do some baking."

The Zab'leks both laughed softly, getting down their needed baking supplies, and making idle chatter. Kekrou hadn't baked since he had ended up on Tatooine, but it didn't take him long to remember how. The recipe was one that his master had taught him, after a slip up during a mission that put his time away from the temple from originally three weeks, to almost a year.

It was a simple pastry, but it was a comfort food for both forms of himself.
"So, what's it like? The future I mean." He had asked as they put the pastry in the oven.
"Dark. Lonely. It was just starting to brighten up a little when I died. I guess the Force felt compelled to try for the 'nth time. Who knows how many tries it's given to be getting so desperate."

"Oh..."

The inhibitor chip on the necklace adorning his neck caught Sebra's eye. He tipped his head towards it, "I don't mean to pry, but what is that? I've never seen anything like it before."

Kekrou looked at the chip, gaining a sullen, thousand yard stare. "It's...a slave chip, I suppose you could call it. The only friend I had... I helped him take it out of his head." Kekrou hadn't thought about the clones in a while. Hadn't thought about the rebels, or bouncing from planet to planet, or living on scraps.