Star Wars: The Tristan Betrayal (sequel to Will of the Force)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Anakin waited quietly in the shadows while Yoda finished conferring with Governor Verbeke. He kept himself as hidden as possible and kept his eyes alert, searching for any trouble that might come along.

"Master, may I have a word?" he asked softly as he carefully approached Yoda and Verbeke after they'd stopped speaking.

Yoda turned to Verbeke. "Join you in a moment I will."

He led Anakin a few meters away to a semi-private area of the landing dock.

"Unhappy with my decision you are?" Yoda asked, leaning on his gimer stick and gazing at Anakin with a knowing expression.

Anakin sighed, lowering to one knee, wanting to be face to face with Yoda.

"I don't think Mara or Shaak-Ti should be confined to the ship, Master," he admitted boldly.

"A better solution you have?"

"They should have been allowed to continue their work," Anakin replied. "We all agreed that Mara did nothing wrong and it's pointless to have her, Shaak-Ti and my Padawan wasting their time instead of helping the Arkanians like we were asked."

"Agree with us the Arkanians did not," Yoda reminded him sternly.

"It doesn't matter," Anakin flared. "We're Jedi. They should accept our decision without question."

Yoda's eyes narrowed into thin slits. Though Anakin was much bigger than Yoda in physical stature, he felt quite a bit smaller when the old Jedi glared at him.

"Or yours at least," Anakin shrugged.

Yoda sighed heavily. How he wished it were that simple. Things would be much simpler.

"If refused any punishment I had..." he began,"...how would the Arkanians have reacted do you think?"

Anakin thought silently for a few moments. He couldn't deny the fury of the Arkanians; he'd seen it first-hand. What would the reaction have been if Yoda insisted on no punishment?

Closing his eyes, he reached into the Force searching for an answer. The Force heeded the call of its Chosen One. He watched without reacting as an image began to form behind his closed lids.

/

Shouting...pushing...blows being exchanged as the Arkanians reached for their weapons and the Jedi for their lightsabers.

Anakin and Tristan raised their sabers together, blocking blaster fire.

Luke and Kit danced their way through the attacking Arkanians, cutting them down as they sought to destroy their Jedi helpers.

The battle was fierce, but did not last long. The Arkanians were outmatched by the Jedi. The last of the Arkanians was cut down by Anakin himself, his body cleaved neatly in half.

When the smoke cleared, Anakin looked around the landing dock littered with bodies, his gaze finally settling on the body of his gravely injured son.

/

Anakin opened his eyes slowly, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his vision and its meaning.

"Luke," he breathed.

"There's something more going on here, Master," he whispered, his gaze lingering on a group of Arkanians standing nearby. "I feel it."

"As do I," Yoda nodded somberly. "But tell what it is, I cannot. Be prepared for anything we must."

Anakin nodded, rising. "May the Force be with you, Master."

"And with you, youngling."

/

After making sure Kit Fisto's attention was safely diverted, Luke slipped away from the supplies he'd just inventoried. He headed back towards the Jedi's ship as nonchalantly as possible, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention.

"Tristan," he said softly, eyeing the Arkanian standing guard on the opposite side of the ramp cautiously. "Do you mind if I go aboard for a few minutes?"

"No one enters and no one leaves," the Arkanian guard barked.

"Was somebody talking to you?" Tristan hissed, glaring at the guard.

"I just need a minute," Luke interrupted. "That's all, I promise."

Tristan turned to face Luke. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Luke flushed, shuffling from foot to foot. Why did he have to ask that? Luke thought.