Revelation: A Star Wars Fanfic

Chapter 7

"Atque in pepetuum, frater, ave atque vae."
—Cassandra Claire

I see the horribly familiar hills of dirt and sand spread out in front of me. I can feel the rotation of the planet, spinning thousands of miles per hour on its axis.

There have been times where my senses are greatly enhanced, and I have never felt every atom in the air, every speck of dust beneath my feet. But this is different.

Tatooine is a hellhole that attracts the worst kind of people, and traps those who wish to depart.

There is no sign of the suns anywhere. All I see is a great void, an absence of anything warm and bright.

My body slowly turns around, somehow being guided by an uncontrollable force. I cannot move, but I am moving. I see an approaching encampment of sand people, but not even their fires give any feeling.

Suddenly, I feel as if someone sliced a fire through my abdomen.

And then I feel death.

Another boiling sensation moves through my chest, someone having stabbed me.

I can no longer breathe, and I die.

The same evil fire slides across my neck.

I am killed again.

Intense fear bubbles inside me, but I feel nothing before I die.

I am angry, though I do not know why. I am struck down and dead.

I am blind as to what is attacking me.

Excruciating pain, in my arms, my chest, my stomach, tortures me before I am able to die once again.

My agony is reset.

An ache.

A snap.

A bruise.

A cut.

And, most often times, a burn.

My own voice continually cries out with the indiscrimination of death, but I continue to restart.

I live.

I feel pain.

I die.

And then the vicious cycle ceases.

My breath is unsteady and desperate, wanting to simply collapse under the pressure of a hundred deaths.

Then I see them: the blazing yellow eyes, full of hatred and anger. They sing of pain and loss.

And I recognize them as they fade back into a crystal blue. They are my own eyes, but they do not belong to me.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Anakin!" I sat up quickly in my bed.

I didn't remember making the decision to sleep, but I regretted it. It was another minute before my panicked breathing slowed.

My arms wrapped around my body, trying to comfort me. All I could do was stare at the mesmerizing blue patterns on my arms that matched the color of my eyes. I could look at them for hours, usually, tracing them, trying to connect them.

I was alone in my room. My vow of strength held no sway over me when I was alone. I desperately wanted to call Nysa, or to find Master Plo and tell them all that had transpired in my nightmare. Moisture threatened to spill from my eyes as I told myself that I could not get anyone else involved.

"Are you all right?" Senator Organa had asked me. "You seemed unfocused... I have never seen suffer an anxiety attack such as yours so quietly."

"I don't have anxiety." I had responded harshly.

I didn't like people; that much was true. They were always overwhelming. Those I had known for a while were less so, but I still often felt their innermost thoughts.

I made a mental note to apologize to the senator.

A knock abruptly shook me from my thoughts. "Come in." I attempted to sound cheerful.

"I hope I did not wake you." Master Plo said as he entered. When I shook my head, he continued. "There is a transmission for you. The Council is waiting for you in the Chamber."

I sighed quietly, only nodding. Praying I did not still look half asleep, I followed Master Plo to the top of the Temple. Every eye was on me as I entered. At first, I feared I would be forcefully dismissed from Coruscant and sent back to Nequek. Then, I realized that the Jedi wore looks of concern, not anger.

"Padawan Skywalker," Master Yoda acknowledged. Even before the new laws, he never referred to me as "Dark Padawan Skywalker" as was customary. He wore his views of the Dark Side on his sleeve, but he never discriminated against me. "A message for you, there is."

"From whom?" I inquired, walking to gain a better view of where the holo would appear.

The paused image of Anakin raised my brow. It began playing. "Arrai," he began. I could tell he was upset, but that was only because of my sisterly instincts. "Master Kenobi has been taken by droids on Geonosis. The senator and I are headed there now. We need a Dark Jedi. Rendez-vous at this location as soon as you can."

The message ended.

"Am I to go to Geonosis, then?" I said like I assumed it was the only course of action. Even if the Council wanted to send someone different, they knew that they could do little to stop me.

It was Master Windu who answered. "We received an earlier transmission from Master Kenobi confirming his Geonosis position. Under normal circumstances, your assistance would be unwelcome. However, Master Kenobi told of several things that are troubling to us. We are sending a squadron of Jedi to Geonosis to work undercover to get the information we need. Based on your skills background, you seem like a very capable person for this job."

Never had I imagined Master Windu being nice to me, but even he had to have priorities. To send an entire squadron of Jedi was a lot. I had heard several of my new politician friends talk about how the numbers of the Jedi were dangerously low, and they could not support the galaxy. With the Separatist threat still looming large over the Galactic Republic, many had opted for the formation of our own army. I could not imagine the Jedi sparing even three or four Jedi, but they seemed nervous.

"Thank you, master," I bowed politely. For the first time, I had no difficulty showing the man respect.

"Serious, the matter is." Master Yoda inputted.

Another Jedi, whom I recognized as Master Mundi, spoke via hologram. "We give you permission to do whatever is necessary, Dark Padawan. Do not fail us."

Perhaps I could clear my head with the Dark Side. I thanked them again and left the circular room.

As I followed Master Plo to where the squadron was organizing, I went over different lightsaber designs and wondered what I would need to use. Most of the Jedi had standard crystals and hilts, which worked for standard designs and combat forms. Lucky for me, my combat instructors included millennia-old Sith and Jedi from a time when such artistic styles were not forgotten. Even the Dark Council could admit that this one was instance where the old ways were more efficient than the "new and improved" way.

I was worried for Anakin. I did not know my brother as well as I should have, but I knew he would not have asked for help unless he needed it.

I muttered a silent prayer to whatever gods or angels might have existed, asking them to keep my family safe for me.

Anakin was all I had left.

I couldn't lose him too.