by Watson, Jude
“We need additional Jedi, it’s true,” Oppo Rancisis said. “But we see now that we cannot rush readiness.”
“Our mistake, it was,” Yoda said.
“Mistakes we cannot afford during these times,” Mace added, and then said, “We will commend your Padawan for his bravery. To face a Sith is the hardest task for a Jedi. Anakin showed ingenuity and bravery throughout the mission.”
Yoda peered at Obi-Wan. “Something to share with us, you have?”
Obi-Wan hesitated. He had doubts. He had fears. He had sorrows. But this was not the place.
“No, Master Yoda,” he said.
“Disappointed your Padawan will be, to hear that we have cancelled our plans to accelerate Knighthood,” Yoda said.
“Yes, Anakin will be disappointed,” Obi-Wan said. “He is not good at waiting.”
“Then wait, he should,” Yoda said, nodding.
“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” Mace said. “You may send in Ferus Olin.”
Obi-Wan bowed and retreated. When he walked into the outer chamber, Ferus stood.
“They are ready for you,” Obi-Wan told him.
Ferus turned a face to him full of such misery and heartbreak that Obi-Wan was moved.
“You are not here to be punished, least of all by yourself,” Obi-Wan told him.
“I must go on living,” Ferus responded. “That is my punishment.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Anakin waited until he saw Obi-Wan leave the outer chamber. He wasn’t ready to talk to his Master yet. He waited until Obi-Wan was gone, then slipped inside.
He didn’t want to see Ferus face-to-face, but he had to find out what was going on. What would the Council do? Now, of all times, Anakin felt a strange attachment to his fellow Padawan.
The shock of Darra’s death hadn’t worn off. He still couldn’t grasp it. He still couldn’t believe it wasn’t possible to see her again, to hear her voice. If the Force was so powerful, why couldn’t it stop death? Why couldn’t he break through that wall and see his friend again?
He felt a rustle behind him, and saw Tru backing out of the chamber.
“Tru!” Anakin called. Reluctantly, Tru edged in a few steps. “Do you know anything?”
Tru shook his head. He didn’t quite meet Anakin’s eyes.
“I haven’t seen much of you since we’ve been back,” Anakin said.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry about the censure.”
“I deserved it.”
The question burned on Anakin’s tongue. “Why did you go to Ferus instead of me to fix your lightsaber? I would have done a better job.”
“I didn’t go to Ferus,” Tru said. “He came to me. He had noticed that it was on half-power at the end of the battle in the monastery. But I wouldn’t have gone to you because I wouldn’t have wanted to get you in trouble. You would have kept my secret. Just like Ferus did. I was wrong not to tell my Master. I was wrong to let Ferus stay silent. I was just about as wrong as I could be.”
“You were thinking of the mission,” Anakin said.
“We were all wrong,” Tru continued, as if he hadn’t even registered what Anakin had said.
“We did our best,” Anakin said. “And Omega is dead.”
“So is Darra.”
Tru turned and walked out.
Anakin started after him. Something was wrong. Something had changed between him and his friend, and he didn’t know why.
He stopped when the Council doors opened. Ferus walked out. He almost walked by Anakin without seeing him, as though he was blinded by his feelings.
“Ferus?”
Ferus turned. “Anakin. Well. I think you should be the first to know. I have resigned from the Jedi Order.”
“What?!” Anakin felt shock ripple through him. “But why?”
“Because I was responsible for Darra’s death.”
“That’s not true! You couldn’t have known—”
“But I did. I knew that Tru’s lightsaber had malfunctioned. I offered to fix it secretly. I did not tell his Master or urge him to do so. His lightsaber failed in battle, and Darra was killed trying to protect me.”
“But you thought you’d fixed it!”
Ferus stopped. He gazed at Anakin for a long moment.
“You knew?” he asked. “You knew Tru’s lightsaber had broken? You must have seen me fixing it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No. You didn’t. But there are only the two of us here, Anakin. You don’t have to lie.”
Anakin said nothing. As usual, Ferus was trying to trap him, trying to show Anakin how much nobler he was.
“When we got back, I took it to the Jedi Master Tolan Hing,” Ferus said, naming the Jedi who was known for his expertise in the workings of a lightsaber. “He told me that that the fusing between the flux aperture and the power cell needed a slight adjustment. Nothing major—Tru might never have noticed it. Except that in battle, the power drained faster than normal.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.…”
Tru’s voice came from behind him. “Because you fixed the flux aperture. And you would have known that it needed to be rechecked after the power cell boost.”
Anakin turned. “You didn’t come to me!”
Tru shook his head. “That’s funny. Shouldn’t you have said, But I didn’t know it was broken?”
“You’re trying to trap me,” Anakin said. “Both of you,” he added, with an angry look at Ferus. “Tru, I would never do anything deliberately to put you in a position…”
Tru’s face hardened. His silver eyes held a sheen Anakin had never seen before. They were icy, as though Anakin could slip off his gaze.
“I wondered,” Tru said. “When we got back here, I wondered if you knew. I saw how you froze in the tomb. ‘But not my friend,’ I said to myself. ‘My friend would not do that.’ But then I thought about how you feel about Ferus, how angry you had been. You would want him to get in trouble, even if it meant exposing me.”
“That’s not fair!”
“And suddenly I realized—yes, Anakin could have done that.”
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Anakin said. But how could he explain? He couldn’t admit that he knew that Tru’s lightsaber was broken because he couldn’t explain why he’d forgotten to tell him to readjust it. He still didn’t know how he’d forgotten something so crucial. Tru would think he’d deliberately forgotten it.
There was nothing he could say to convince him otherwise, because he himself didn’t know.
“I don’t think so,” Tru said. “I think I’m truly seeing you for the first time.”
Anakin swallowed. He didn’t know what to say. This was an unfamiliar Tru, not the friend of his childhood.
“I’ll see you outside,” Tru said to Ferus, and walked out.
“Do you see what you’ve done?” Anakin said, turning savagely to Ferus.
“Yes, I see what I’ve done,” Ferus said. “Do you?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid for you. You think admitting you were wrong opens you up to attack.”
“That’s not true,” Anakin countered. “I think you should save your fears for yourself.”
A spasm of pain crossed Ferus’s face. Anakin could not imagine how awful it must feel, to give up the Jedi Order. It would be like giving up everything he lived for.
“If the Jedi ever need me, I will be there,” Ferus said quietly. “That includes you, Anakin.”
Ferus walked away quickly. Anakin looked after him angrily. Ferus got the last word. Not only that, but it had been a kind one. The noble Padawan to the last.
Not a Padawan, though. Not any longer.
Satisfaction soon curdled into frustration. Anakin felt as though he’d been beaten, but he didn’t know why. He remembered the helplessness he’d felt in the energy trap. He never wanted to feel that way again. Yet he was trapped in his envy, in his anger, just as surely. Even if Ferus left the Temple forever, he would still
remember this feeling.
No. The feeling would fade. He would make it fade. He would push it down, down with his memories of Shmi. Now that Ferus was gone, Anakin could fulfill his promise. He would bring balance to the Force.
Tru was angry at him, but he had never truly understood the burden that Anakin carried. Maybe Tru had never understood him at all. Maybe no one did, except for his Master. Tru would come around.
Anakin walked out. At the far end of the hallway, he saw Ferus join Tru.
He felt as though he was watching them through the wrong end of electrobinoculars. They seemed so small, so far away.
Feeling his presence, Tru looked back over his shoulder at Anakin. And then it hit him like a punch that knocked the air from his lungs. Tru would never come around. He’d lost his friend forever.
Standing still, he watched Ferus and Tru walk away.
He heard footsteps beside him, and Obi-Wan was next to him.
“Anakin, I’ve been looking for you.”
He turned automatically. “Do you need me?”
“No, I…Anakin? Is something wrong?”
“Ferus has resigned from the Jedi Order.”
Obi-Wan let out a breath. “I was afraid he would do something…like that. He feels Darra’s death so strongly.” There was a lost look in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he gazed down the empty hallway. “The legacy of this mission is pain.”
Anakin wanted to take away the remote look on his Master’s face. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to care so much about what happened to Ferus. “The legacy of this mission is that a great enemy has been defeated. I saw you strike him down.”
“That is not an act that should bring you satisfaction, my young Padawan,” Obi-Wan said sternly. “I took a life.”
“It was done as a last resort. And it rid the galaxy of a great evil. Therefore it was necessary and right.”
“Necessary—yes. But right?” Obi-Wan shook his head. “That is not a word to throw around lightly. We cannot say what is right. We can only do our best.” Obi-Wan’s gaze warmed. “As you do, Padawan. You never give less than your best. I’m proud of the Jedi you have become.”
Anakin was moved. His Master so rarely spoke this way. “Thank you, Master.”
Obi-Wan gave him a long look. “And…I wanted to tell you. The Jedi Council has decided that they won’t speed up the trials for Padawans. Your Knighthood will have to wait a bit longer.”
Anakin absorbed this news. So there was no chance, then. He would have to wait. It didn’t matter what he did, how well he performed.
“When the time is right, you’ll take the trials, and I have no doubt that you will astonish us all. Until then, we will work together. There is so much left to do, and I’m grateful to have you by my side for a little longer.” Obi-Wan paused. “Anakin? Are you all right?”
He was all right, Anakin suddenly realized. The weakness in his knees he’d felt when he saw Tru walk away was gone. In a strange way, the mission had strengthened him. He had a stronger conviction now, a harder edge to fight with. Everything had fallen away from him—his childhood, his friends, his wish to impress the Jedi Council.
He would never be helpless again.
He would only grow stronger.
He had fought with a Sith and seen true power. One day he would be able to match it. He would be able to fight it. Not yet. But someday. Soon.
As a boy, he hadn’t wanted things to change. He wanted to keep those he loved close to him forever. Yet everything did change. He was far from his mother. He had lost Darra. Tru. And Qui-Gon. He couldn’t fight against those kinds of losses. So be it. He would have to push them down until they didn’t matter anymore.
One day, he would face his worst loss, the loss of his Master. By surpassing him, he would lose him. He pictured Obi-Wan turning to him in slow surprise, grasping for the first time the true extent of his power. Seeing that the student had outstripped the teacher.
On that day, Anakin’s heart would break for the last time. He would feel the weight of impossible sorrow.
He would not be able to bear that sorrow. Unless he no longer had a heart.
About the Author
JUDE WATSON is the New York Times best-selling author of the Jedi Quest and Jedi Apprentice series, as well as the Star Wars Journals Darth Maul, Queen Amidala, and Princess Leia: Captive to Evil. She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest.
