What Could Have Been Part III: The Destined Warriors

Voices Under Concordia

      Anakin

      Death is a natural part of life...

      "It's only a little mark, Anakin. I'll be fine."

      "But Master, it was all my fault!"

      Anakin held his master's hand in his own. The skin was raw and blistered just about the wrist where a battle droid's blast had just nicked Master Obi-wan. The wound had been acquired as a result of Obi-wan rushing to Anakin's rescue during a skirmish on Devaron. Anakin turned over his master's hand causing Obi-wan to flinch. He could sense his pain. And it was all his fault. He hadn't listened to Master Kenobi and now he was hurt.

      "These things just happen, young one," Obi-wan explained as he applied a bacta pad to his injury. The young Jedi Knight seemed to think nothing of the minor wound that would most likely heal within a day or two. His Padawan, however, was overwhelmed with guilt. "No Obi-wan, I didn't listen and now you're hurt. You're hurt because of me!" he insisted again. Obi-wan seemed startled by his apprentice's sudden anxiety over the matter. No matter how hard he tried, Anakin would not except that he wasn't to blame for his master's hand.

       "I shouldn't come with you on missions anymore. I'll hurt you again," Anakin finally decided, turning from his master. Obi-wan frowned. "Anakin, you didn't hurt me. We're Jedi. Our lives are not guaranteed to be safe and comfortable. You must understand that."

       "But I can't let you get hurt anymore. I'm not a good Padawan," Anakin reiterated, this time with tears in his eyes. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to bring his master pain. He loved Obi-wan. "I don't want you to be in pain!" he exclaimed, holding onto the Jedi's cloak.

       Obi-wan gently comforted his distraught Padawan. He was very emotional; something Obi-wan was not used to and didn't know how to respond to. He spoke slowly. "Anakin, you must not let your feelings govern you. A Jedi lives in harmony with his emotions. Even if that means letting go of those he holds closest..."

      Anakin clutched Obi-wan's robes all the tighter. "But I don't want to let you go."

      He had only been eleven years old.

      The wind felt like needles against Anakin's face as he tore across the Mandalorian deserts in the speeder he had borrowed. His cloak whipped in the air behind him like it was going to tear away from his body as he pushed the engine to its maximum power. He wove in between tight rock formations and through narrow caverns faster than a pod racer could ever dream. His turns were sharp and fast and reckless. A single mistake would be a death sentence into the side of solid stone.

      But Anakin didn't care anymore.

      He had taken off from the camp early in the morning before even Padme could check in with him. He didn't want her, or anyone else's sympathy. All he wanted was salvation from the guilt that had collected in his heart over years and years. All the people he had let down. First his mother, and then Ahsoka, and now-

      Flying was his only escape.

      Tears were thrashed from his eyes by the harsh wind before they even had time to form. Going fast was the only thing that could make Anakin forget that he was still crying. As his speeder emerged from beyond the canyons of what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, the roar of the engine coughed. Then it sputtered. Then it choked. Then it died.

      Out of gas.

      Damn it...

      Anakin demounted from his bike and found himself at the edge of a bluff. His heartbeat thumped relentlessly in his chest as he finally felt the tear return to rolling down his cheeks. He stared out over Mandalore and breath in the ridged air. It was cool and crisp and the iciness of it lingered in his nostrils as he watched dawn break across the violet sky. The sun had not quite peaked over the horizon but its light cast every hue of purple and red over the sky. Concordia loomed overhead; basking the entire desert in its lavender glow. Once the dust kicked up by his speeder had settled and everything was still, Anakin decided that the galaxy looked far too perfect for Obi-wan not to be in it.

      The numbing pain returned to his body and his knees went weak. He ambled around the cliff side aimlessly. Why was he here? Not just on the cliff. Not just on Mandalore. Why was he still here? Why had so many people around him suffered? Why had he been the one to be freed from slavery? Why hadn't he been expelled from the Order? Why hadn't he been on Mandalore to die instead of Obi-wan? This wasn't fair! Why had he lost so much? Then he remembered Master Yoda's words to him.

      Test you, the Force does. But know your limits also. What you can handle, The Force knows. If ready you are not, test you the Force will not.

      Anakin flushed with anger.

      "I thought the Force knew my limits! I thought the Force knew what I could handle, huh?" he shouted across the canyon. "Is this still some sort of test? Have I not proven enough?!?" he asked. "What more do you want from me? Huh?" More tears fell from his face as he grabbed a rock off the ground and clenched it in his fist. "Why won't you answer me?!? Can you hear me?!? Answer me huh?!?" he demanded as he threw the rock over the ledge.

      "Oh right... you're dead!" he screamed bitterly toward the sky. "Like everyone else you've taken from me, you're dead!" His voice broke into sobs as he collapsed to his knees in the dust. "Just let me die... Just let me die... Just let me die..." he begged. Had the Force abandoned him? It seemed that way. His voice echoed throughout the canyons as he cursed at the sky and whatever beings where up there listening to him. Listening to him and ignoring him. The only sounds he heard in returned were the reverberations of his weeping bouncing off the cavern walls.

      Only the rocks cried for him.

       Young Skywalker...

      Anakin looked up, alarmed. This was no longer the repercussion of his own voice. But he knew no one could have followed him out here.

      Forgotten you, the Force has not, Young Skywalker. Nor has the Force turned its eyes away from your suffering. A time of trial, you have endured and endured with great courage...

      The voice was one Anakin could never mistake. Its raspy croakiness was unforgettable as was the twisted way of speaking that had grown infamous throughout the Jedi Order. Younglings had grown up with the voice guiding them through their first years of training and even the most experienced Jedi would still return to the old Grand Master for words of wisdom at desperate times.

      "Master Yoda..."