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Who says that?

Native Americans march in solidarity with Palestine

Denver, Colorado USA

© Malek Asfeer 

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If anyone is going to make a cure for diabetes, it would probably be the Europeans or the Asians

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The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the small garden, painting the familiar brick of their London terrace house in hues of orange and gold. Ariki nervously fidgeted with the hem of her soft floral dress. She had called a family meeting, a feat in itself considering Obi-Wan’s almost constant Jedi training and Qui-Gon’s… well, Qui-Gon’s inherent tendency to be somewhere else, following the will of the Force. Bant, thankfully, was almost always around, her gentle presence a comforting anchor in their chaotic lives.

Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Bant sat patiently on mismatched garden chairs, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern. "So, Ariki," Qui-Gon began, his voice a low rumble, "what is it you wished to discuss?"

Ariki took a deep breath, the scent of roses and damp earth doing little to calm her racing heart. She glanced at Obi-Wan, always so quick to offer a supportive smile, and Bant, her blue eyes reflecting the setting sun with an almost alien beauty. "I… I have something important to tell you all."

She looked down at her hands, twisting the fabric of her dress. "For as long as I can remember, I've felt… different. Like I was supposed to be something else."

Obi-Wan frowned gently. "Different how, Ariki? Are you feeling unwell?"

Ariki shook her head. "No, Obi-Wan. It's not like that. It's… inside. It's who I am."

She finally lifted her gaze, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I'm not… I'm not a boy. I'm a girl. Inside, I've always been a girl."

The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the distant hum of London traffic. Ariki held her breath, bracing for any reaction. Judgment, confusion, disbelief… she was ready for it all.

Qui-Gon was the first to speak, his voice surprisingly soft. "Ariki, are you saying… you identify as female?"

Ariki nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a gentle smile touched his lips. "Then, my child, you are a girl. It is not for me, or anyone else, to dictate who you are. The Force flows through you, and you must be true to its current."

Relief washed over Ariki in a tidal wave. She hadn't expected such immediate acceptance, especially from Qui-Gon, who could sometimes be a bit… traditional. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Thank you, Qui-Gon. Thank you."

Obi-Wan, his brow still furrowed with a trace of confusion, stepped forward and hugged her tightly. "I… I don't fully understand, Ariki. But I love you. And if you say you're a girl, then you're a girl. It doesn't change anything between us."

Ariki hugged him back, her heart swelling with love for her brother. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. That means a lot."

Finally, Bant approached, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She took Ariki's face in her hands, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Ariki," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "you are beautiful. Inside and out. And you are so brave to share this with us. I am so proud of you."

Ariki threw her arms around Bant, burying her face in her shoulder. "Thank you, Bant. You've always been like a mother to me."

Bant held her close, stroking her hair. "Always, Ariki. Always."

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in twilight. As they sat there together, in the gathering darkness, Ariki felt a sense of peace she hadn't known was possible. She was Ariki, and she was a girl. And she was loved. The long journey ahead wouldn't be easy, she knew, but she wasn't alone. She had her family, her weird, wonderful, accepting family, by her side. And that, she realized, was all that truly mattered.

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I was just tryin to give a solution where everyone lives

Not to undermine how awful what happened was or to invalid amber thurman’s choices, but is it possible things could have turned out better if she just gave birth and gave up the twins for adoption?

THIS IS NOT ANTI ABORTION! DON’T COME AFTER ME!

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I’m sorry?

Not to undermine how awful what happened was or to invalid amber thurman’s choices, but is it possible things could have turned out better if she just gave birth and gave up the twins for adoption?

THIS IS NOT ANTI ABORTION! DON’T COME AFTER ME!

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Not to undermine how awful what happened was or to invalid amber thurman’s choices, but is it possible things could have turned out better if she just gave birth and gave up the twins for adoption?

THIS IS NOT ANTI ABORTION! DON’T COME AFTER ME!

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Jedi code: attachments are forbidden!

Also the Jedi: (Jedi points to padawan) so anyway, this is my child.

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Mace windu (about the disaster linage’s tendency to avoid their feelings for their loves compared to his lines) you are all a bunch of idiots! I’d seen coraiilian steel less thick than you all! Take notes from this ! (Points to Kanan and Hera, who look very uncomfortable) this is how you do it! You all need to touch some grass!

Anakin starts to raise his hand.

Mace: (without even turning around) put your hand down, skywalker.

Anakin slowly puts his hand down.

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The Force was a chaotic mess. Obi-Wan could feel it swirling around Anakin, a turbulent storm of confusion and... cringe. He rubbed his temples, the phantom pain of a thousand bad decisions throbbing behind his eyes. He should have left Anakin on Mortis. He should have stayed on Mandalore. He should have become a hermit on some desolate moon. Anything but this.

He found Anakin kneeling before Padme, a bouquet of (probably stolen from the Senate gardens) luminescent Lothal lilies clutched in his hand. Padme, bless her diplomatic heart, looked more bewildered than charmed.

“My dear Senator,” Anakin intoned, his voice a touch too dramatic, “I have crossed galaxies, battled fearsome beasts, and faced my own inner demons to bring you these tokens of my… affection.” He puffed out his chest, striking a pose that screamed vintage HoloVision romance.

Padme blinked. "Anakin, these are lovely. But perhaps you should put them in water?"

Obi-Wan winced from his hiding spot behind a strategically placed Coruscan palm. He could practically hear Ahsoka's cackling echoing in his mind. He had created a monster. A well-meaning, Force-powerful, completely socially inept monster, but a monster nonetheless.

He slunk back to the Jedi Temple, hoping to bury himself in ancient texts until this whole embarrassing episode blew over. He found Ahsoka in the training room, lightsaber ignited, demonstrating a particularly vicious move on a training droid.

"Having fun?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ahsoka grinned, disengaging her lightsaber. "Immensely! This is way better than the HoloNet. Did you see the look on Padme's face?"

"I saw entirely too much," Obi-Wan groaned. "He's quoting lines from 'Galactic Heartbeats,' for Force's sake! I thought my job was to train him to be a Jedi Knight, not a HoloVision star!"

"Relax, Master," Ahsoka said, though the amusement still danced in her eyes. "He's just… exploring his feelings. And it’s hilarious to watch."

"Exploring his feelings using recycled dialogue and stolen flowers! And you," Obi-Wan pointed an accusing finger, "are directly responsible!"

"Hey, I just showed him the tools," Ahsoka protested, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. "He's the one swinging the hammer… badly."

The training room door hissed open, and Anakin strode in, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Master, Ahsoka, I need advice."

Obi-Wan braced himself. Here we go again.

"Senator Amidala seems… perplexed by my romantic gestures. I recited a sonnet from 'Starlight Serenade,' offered her a ride on a speeder through the lower levels, and even attempted to serenade her from her balcony. But she keeps… mentioning something about 'personal space' and 'a restraining order.'"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, these… romantic comedies, as Ahsoka calls them, are not an accurate representation of real relationships."

"But they work in the HoloVids!" Anakin protested. "The handsome hero always gets the girl in the end!"

"Because it's a fictional story designed for entertainment, Anakin! Real relationships require nuance, understanding, and… well, a basic awareness of social cues."

Ahsoka snorted. "And don't forget the restraining order, Master."

"Ahsoka!" Obi-Wan glared.

"So," Anakin said, his confusion deepening, "what am I doing wrong?"

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his beard. "Let's start with the serenading from the balcony. Perhaps serenading is not the best approach."

"But in 'Moonlight Melody,' the heroine swoons when the hero serenades her!"

"Anakin, Padme is not a cardboard cutout from a HoloVid! She is a Senator of the Republic, a strong, independent woman with a complex political career. She probably has more pressing matters than being serenaded from her balcony, like… stopping a Separatist invasion."

Anakin's face fell. "So… I shouldn't pursue my… feelings?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. He knew the Jedi Code forbade attachments, but Anakin was clearly grappling with something far beyond a simple infatuation. He was experiencing emotions he didn't understand, emotions that had been suppressed for his entire life.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, carefully choosing his words, "the Jedi Order teaches us to let go of attachments, to find peace through detachment. But you are clearly experiencing strong emotions. Perhaps you should try to understand them, to explore them in a healthy way."

"But how?" Anakin asked, his voice laced with desperation. "The HoloVids aren't working!"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He considered suggesting meditation, but he knew Anakin's track record with inner peace. "Perhaps," he said, reluctantly, "you should try to simply… talk to her. Get to know her as a person, not just as a romantic ideal."

"Talk to her?" Anakin repeated, as if Obi-Wan had suggested flying a starfighter with his bare hands. "About what?"

"About anything! Her work, her interests, her concerns… Anything that isn't a cheesy pickup line from a HoloVid.” Obi-Wan paused. "And maybe apologize for the balcony serenade."

Ahsoka, who had been silently observing the entire exchange, couldn't resist one last jab. "And maybe buy her flowers that haven't been liberated from the Senate gardens."

Obi-Wan shot her a look that could melt steel. "Ahsoka, perhaps you could… assist the younger Padawans with their lightsaber training."

Ahsoka grinned. "My pleasure, Master. Good luck with the love-struck Chosen One!" She sauntered out of the training room, leaving Obi-Wan alone with his turbulent Padawan and the looming dread of more rom-com inspired disasters.

The next few days were a slow-motion train wreck. Obi-Wan witnessed Anakin attempt to engage Padme in meaningful conversations about trade regulations, only to awkwardly segue into declarations of eternal devotion. He saw him try to cook Padme a romantic dinner, resulting in a minor kitchen fire and the evacuation of her apartment. He even saw him attempt to write her a poem, which, thankfully, never made it past the first verse – a clunky ode to her "radiant hair like spun gold."

Obi-Wan felt a pang of sympathy for Padme. She was handling this with remarkable grace, but he could see the weariness in her eyes. He knew he had to intervene before Anakin completely alienated her.

One evening, he found Anakin sitting alone in the Jedi Temple gardens, staring morosely at a wilting Lothal lily.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, sitting down beside him. "How are things progressing with Senator Amidala?"

Anakin sighed. "Not well, Master. I tried talking to her about her work, like you suggested. But I kept getting distracted by… her eyes. And then I accidentally told her that I would overthrow the Republic if she asked me to."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anakin, you cannot tell a Senator of the Republic that you would overthrow the government for her!"

"But I meant it as a compliment!" Anakin protested.

"It doesn't matter! It's not a compliment! It's treason!"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "Anakin, I think it's time we talked about something… more fundamental."

He launched into a hesitant explanation of the Jedi Code, of the importance of detachment, of the dangers of emotional attachments. He spoke of the dark side, of how emotions could be used to manipulate and control. He carefully avoided mentioning his own past with Satine, knowing that any further information would only add fuel to the already out-of-control firestorm that was Anakin's love life.

Anakin listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. When Obi-Wan finally finished, he asked, "So… you're saying I shouldn't have these feelings?"

"I'm saying," Obi-Wan replied, carefully, "that you need to learn to control them. To find balance. To understand that these feelings are not the most important thing in your life."

Anakin was silent for a long moment. Then, he looked up at Obi-Wan, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and defiance. "But what if they are?"

Obi-Wan's heart sank. He knew, in that moment, that he had failed. He had tried to guide Anakin, to steer him away from the pitfalls of attachment, but he had only managed to push him further down a dangerous path. He saw the fire in Anakin's eyes, the unyielding conviction that his feelings were real, were important, were worth fighting for.

And Obi-Wan knew, with a chilling certainty, that Anakin Skywalker was no longer on the path of the Jedi. He was on a path of his own making, a path that would lead him to heartbreak, to darkness, and ultimately, to destruction. And there was nothing Obi-Wan could do to stop him.

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The Force thrummed with a frantic energy Anakin couldn’t understand. It buzzed in his ears, tightened his chest, and made his heart race. He knew only one thing: the source of this turmoil was Padmé Amidala. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn't stop the sweet, intoxicating smiles that bloomed on his face whenever she was near. Mortis… Mortis had changed something, intensified something. He was lost, adrift in a sea of unfamiliar feelings with no land in sight. He needed help.

He found Obi-Wan and Ahsoka meditating in the Temple gardens. He blurted it out, a jumbled mess of words about Padmé, about feeling… something, about being utterly confused.

Obi-Wan’s serene expression faltered. He knew the Jedi Code. He knew attachment was forbidden. But looking at the barely controlled storm raging in Anakin's eyes, he also knew the Code was a ship already sailing and Anakin was miles behind, desperately trying to catch up.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan began carefully, "attachment leads to fear, and fear leads to the dark side…"

"But I can't help it, Master!" Anakin pleaded, hands clenched. "I... I feel something for her, something strong. I don't know what to do!"

Ahsoka, ever the observant one, piped up. "Well, you're not the only Jedi who's had… complications of the heart, Skyguy." She gave Obi-Wan a knowing look.

Obi-Wan frowned. “Ahsoka, that is hardly relevant.”

Anakin’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Ahsoka grinned mischievously. "You know, Master, you were always so quick to preach about the Code, but you were practically drowning in love for Duchess Satine of Mandalore."

Obi-Wan’s denial was immediate and vehement. "Satine and I were… colleagues. Allies. There was nothing more to it." The words felt thin, even to his own ears.

Anakin’s interest was piqued. "Duchess Satine? What happened?"

Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing his temples. This was not how he envisioned this conversation going. “It was… complicated, Anakin. We simply realized our paths were ultimately different. It would not have… worked.” He tried to keep his explanation clinical, detached.

“Why not?” Anakin pressed.

Ahsoka, bless her heart – or curse it, depending on Obi-Wan’s perspective – was happy to fill in the gaps. "Because Obi-Wan is an idiot! Every time we were on Mandalore, I wanted to smack him upside the head! I swear, I told him at least a dozen times to 'stop being an idiot and kiss her already, he's obviously never falling to the dark side.' But no, he had to be all stoic and Jedi-y about it."

Obi-Wan shot her a glare that could freeze Hoth. "Ahsoka, really. You are exaggerating."

But even he could see he was fighting a losing battle. Anakin was hanging on Ahsoka’s every word, his confusion slowly morphing into something akin to fascinated understanding.

"And the other day," Ahsoka continued gleefully, "I overheard him talking to her on the holo-screen. He thought I was asleep, but I heard him tell her… well, I won’t repeat it, but it was definitely not ‘colleague’ talk.”

Obi-Wan’s face flushed a shade of crimson Anakin had never seen before.

"There were so many missed opportunities," Ahsoka lamented. "I even tried to set them up! Remember that state dinner on Mandalore, Master? I 'accidentally' spilled wine all over Satine's dress and practically shoved her towards you with a towel!"

Obi-Wan covered his face with his hands. "Ahsoka, do you derive some perverse joy from my misery?"

Ahsoka shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Me and the clones were taking bets, Master."

Obi-Wan sputtered, aghast. “You… you were betting on my personal life?!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. He was defeated. Utterly, completely defeated.

He took a deep breath, trying to salvage some semblance of dignity. He looked at Anakin, still wide-eyed and absorbing the information like a sponge. “Have you… learned anything from this, Anakin?” He asked, his voice weary. He wasn't sure what lesson Anakin SHOULD learn, but he desperately hoped it wasn't "Ignore the Jedi Code and let your padawan spread rumors about your love life."

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Padme steered Anakin towards their apartment, her grip firm on his arm. He knew that look in her eyes – the "I love you, but you've royally messed up" look. He braced himself. The scolding began the moment the door hissed shut behind them.

"Anakin Skywalker, what were you thinking?" Padme demanded, her voice a blend of exasperation and concern. "Framing Mace Windu? Do you have any idea the chaos you've unleashed?"

Anakin slumped onto the couch, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "It wasn't supposed to be Windu, Padme! It was Dooku! The holo-recording malfunctioned, I swear!" He pleaded, his voice laced with frustration.

Padme sighed, softening slightly. She sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. "I believe you, Anakin. I know you wouldn't intentionally frame a Jedi Master. But the damage is done. The Senate is in an uproar, the Jedi Order is under even more scrutiny, and Mace Windu… well, I can only imagine what he's thinking."

"He's probably picturing a thousand different ways to make me regret being born," Anakin muttered, picturing Windu's stony expression. "And he wouldn't be wrong."

"You need to fix this, Anakin," Padme said, her voice firm. "You need to find a way to clear Mace Windu's name and restore some semblance of order. This isn't just about you anymore. It's about the Republic, the Jedi, everything we're fighting for."

Anakin nodded, his jaw tightening. "I know, Padme. I know. But how? The holo-recording is destroyed. Dooku is probably laughing his head off somewhere. And every time I try to explain myself, I just seem to make things worse."

Padme squeezed his hand. "Think, Anakin. You said the recording malfunctioned. What triggered it? Was there anything unusual about the circumstances, anything that might point to sabotage?"

Anakin closed his eyes, replaying the events in his mind. The discovery of the coded message, the race to the hangar, the desperate attempt to use the holo-recorder in the Senate. Then, a thought struck him.

"The recorder," he said, his eyes snapping open. "It was acting strangely from the start. The interface was glitching, the projection was flickering. R2 kept beeping warnings, but I thought he was just being his usual cautious self." He paused, a dawning realization washing over him. "What if the recorder itself was tampered with? What if someone intentionally sabotaged it to frame Windu?"

Padme's eyes widened. "That's it, Anakin! That's the only explanation that makes sense. But who would do that? And why?"

"Dooku, obviously," Anakin said, his voice hardening with determination. "He's been trying to destabilize the Republic for years. Framing a powerful Jedi Master would be a major victory for him."

"But if Dooku was involved, then someone within the Senate must have helped him," Padme pointed out. "Someone who had access to the recorder and knew how to manipulate it."

Anakin stood up, pacing the room with renewed energy. "We need to investigate. We need to find out who sabotaged that recorder and expose Dooku's plot. But we can't do it alone. We need help."

"Obi-Wan," Padme said immediately. "He's the logical choice. He's level-headed, trustworthy, and he knows Dooku better than anyone."

"And Rex," Anakin added. "We'll need the 501st. They're the only clones I trust implicitly."

" Alright, let's start there. Contact Obi-Wan and Rex. Tell them what we suspect and ask for their help. Meanwhile, I'll use my connections in the Senate to see if I can uncover any information about the holo-recorder and who might have had access to it."

With a shared nod, they set to work. Anakin contacted Obi-Wan, explaining their suspicions. Obi-Wan, though initially skeptical, agreed to investigate, recognizing the gravity of the situation. Rex, without hesitation, pledged the support of the 501st.

As Anakin and Padme worked feverishly to unravel the conspiracy, Barriss Offee found herself facing the stern gaze of Master Luminara Unduli.

"Barriss, your actions in the Senate today were… ill-advised," Luminara said, her voice calm but firm. "While I commend your desire to help Ahsoka, your methods were reckless and ultimately detrimental to the Jedi Order."

Barriss hung her head, shame washing over her. "I know, Master. I didn't mean for things to go so wrong. Anakin and I were just trying to expose Dooku's plot, but the holo-recording malfunctioned, and everything spiraled out of control."

Luminara sighed. "I understand your intentions, Barriss, but good intentions are not enough. As Jedi, we must always act with wisdom and restraint. We must consider the consequences of our actions and strive to uphold the principles of justice and fairness."

"I know, Master," Barriss repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "I've let you down. I've let the Jedi Order down."

"The past cannot be changed, Barriss, but the future is still unwritten. Use this experience as a lesson. Learn from your mistakes and strive to become a better Jedi. Focus on your training, meditate on the Force, and let go of your attachment to outcomes."

Barriss nodded, her resolve hardening. "I will, Master. I promise. I won't let you down again."

Meanwhile, Palpatine watched the unfolding chaos with a gleeful smile. His plan was proceeding even better than he had anticipated. The Jedi Order was fractured, the Senate was in disarray, and Mace Windu, one of the most powerful Jedi Masters, was under suspicion.

"Excellent," Palpatine murmured to himself. "Plan Z is proving to be quite… effective." He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down the spines of his loyal aides. "Soon, the time will come to execute the final stage of my plan. Soon, the Republic will be mine."

As Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan, and Rex raced against time to uncover the truth, a dark shadow loomed over the Republic, threatening to engulf everything in its path. The fate of the Jedi Order, the fate of the Republic, hung in the balance. And only time would tell if they could stop Palpatine before it was too late.

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Padme offers a weak smile to Anakin, her eyes holding a mixture of relief and weariness. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, Anakin. And an exit, for that matter. The Senate is buzzing. Some are hailing you as a hero, others are calling for your head."

Anakin winced. "Tell me about it. I think I aged ten years in the last hour. And I think Mace Windu is planning a slow and agonizing death for me.”

Ahsoka, ever pragmatic, offered a small, reassuring pat on his arm. "Well, at least I'm free. Thanks, Skyguy. Even if you did almost frame Master Windu in the process."

"Almost?" Anakin groaned. "I practically gift-wrapped him for the Separatists! If Dooku hadn't been genuinely planning something, I might have just handed him a victory."

Padme sighed, rubbing her temples. "Regardless, the situation is… delicate. Mace Windu is under investigation, though thankfully, there are many who still trust him. But the seeds of doubt have been sown. Palpatine, of course, is being… supportive. Which, knowing him, is even more unnerving."

Anakin shivered. "I don't like the way that man looks at me sometimes. It's like he knows...everything."

Suddenly, Rex approached them, his helmet tucked under his arm. He cleared his throat, his voice unusually hesitant. “General Skywalker, permission to speak frankly, sir?”

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Always, Rex.”

Rex shifted his weight. “Sir, with all due respect… that whole situation in the trial was… weird. We trust you, sir, we really do. But even we couldn't figure out what you were trying to do. And… well, some of the men are… a little concerned about your mental state, sir. No offense, sir.”

Anakin stared at him, dumbfounded. "My mental state? Rex, I’m perfectly fine! Well, maybe not perfectly fine, but… functional! Relatively functional!"

Ahsoka snorted. "Relatively is the key word there, Skyguy."

"Look, Rex," Anakin said, trying to regain some semblance of authority. "It was a malfunction! A terrible, horrible, galaxy-shattering malfunction! I wouldn't intentionally frame Mace Windu, even if he did glare at me like he's trying to set me on fire with his mind."

Rex nodded slowly, but the look on his face suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. "Understood, sir. Just… maybe take it easy for a bit, sir. The men are worried."

Rex saluted and retreated, leaving Anakin feeling more deflated than ever. Padme placed a hand on his shoulder. "Anakin, you need to explain this to Mace Windu. Properly explain it. Before this whole mess spins even further out of control.”

Anakin gulped. "Right. Explain it to Mace Windu. Sounds… easy enough. Like facing a battalion of battle droids unarmed."

“I’ll come with you," Ahsoka offered, stepping forward. “Moral support. And to make sure you don’t say anything…too incriminating.”

Anakin managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Snips. I appreciate it.” He looked at Padme, his expression pleading. “Wish me luck.”

As Anakin and Ahsoka walked towards the Jedi Temple, the weight of the situation pressed heavily on them. The Temple, usually a beacon of peace and serenity, now felt charged with tension. They found Mace Windu in his private meditation chamber, sitting cross-legged and radiating an aura of formidable calm.

Anakin swallowed hard. "Master Windu," he began, his voice wavering slightly. "I… I need to explain what happened at the trial."

Windu opened his eyes, his gaze piercing. "Enlighten me, Skywalker. I'm eager to hear your explanation for why a recording intended to implicate Count Dooku instead implicated me as a Sith Lord."

Anakin took a deep breath. "It was a malfunction, Master. A terrible, catastrophic malfunction. I swear to you, I had no idea it would happen. Barriss and I found proof that Dooku was planning to bomb the Temple, and we wanted to use it to clear Ahsoka's name. But when I played the recording, it showed… well, you saw what it showed."

Windu raised an eyebrow. "A malfunction? You expect me to believe that a simple malfunction could conjure up fabricated evidence suggesting my involvement in a Sith plot?"

"I know it sounds impossible, Master," Anakin pleaded. "But I don't know how else to explain it. I swear on my life, I didn't tamper with the recording. And Barriss wouldn’t either.”

Ahsoka stepped forward, her tone earnest. "Master Windu, I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But I've known Anakin for years. He's reckless, impulsive, and sometimes does stupid things, but he would never deliberately betray the Jedi Order. Or you. He might not like you all the time, but he respects you."

Windu’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes remained guarded. "Respect and Skywalker are not often found in the same sentence, Padawan Tano. However, I will admit that your loyalty is admirable." He turned his gaze back to Anakin. "I will not pretend that I am not disturbed by what happened, Skywalker. I am under investigation, my reputation is tarnished, and the Jedi Order is facing further scrutiny. But I am willing to consider the possibility that this was, in fact, a malfunction. However, you will assist me in clearing my name. You will help me find the true source of this fabricated evidence. And you will be held accountable for your actions, Skywalker."

Anakin felt a surge of relief mixed with trepidation. "Of course, Master. I'll do whatever it takes."

Windu nodded. "Good. Then let us begin. We need to examine the recording mechanism, trace its origins, and determine how this 'malfunction' occurred. Time is of the essence."

As Anakin and Windu began their investigation, with Ahsoka assisting, Barriss Offee was facing her own reckoning. Master Luminara Unduli had led her to a secluded meditation chamber, her expression a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"Barriss," Luminara began, her voice gentle but firm. "Explain to me what possessed you to participate in this… charade.”

Barriss hung her head, her green skin flushing even darker. "Master, I wanted to help Ahsoka. I believed she was innocent, and I thought this was the only way to prove it."

"By potentially framing a member of the Jedi Council?" Luminara asked, her tone laced with disapproval. "Barriss, you know better than to resort to such methods. The Jedi way is to seek truth and justice, not to manipulate evidence and sow discord."

"I know, Master," Barriss whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. I never intended for Master Windu to be implicated. I thought… I thought we could control the situation."

Luminara sighed. "Control? Barriss, the Force cannot be controlled, only understood and respected. Your actions have had far-reaching consequences. Mace Windu is under investigation, Anakin Skywalker is under scrutiny, and the Jedi Order is facing even more distrust from the Senate. You have jeopardized everything we stand for."

"I know, Master," Barriss repeated, her voice choked with sobs. "I'm so sorry. What can I do to make it right?"

Luminara looked at her, her expression softening. "The first step is to accept responsibility for your actions. You must confess your involvement to the Jedi Council and accept whatever punishment they deem appropriate. You must also assist Anakin and Mace Windu in uncovering the truth behind this fabricated evidence. And most importantly, you must learn from this experience. You must learn that the ends do not justify the means, and that the Jedi way is always the right way, even when it is difficult."

Barriss nodded, wiping away her tears. "I will, Master. I promise. I will do everything I can to make amends."

As the investigation into the fabricated evidence began, Padme Amidala was working tirelessly in the Senate, trying to quell the rising tide of suspicion and distrust. She knew that the Jedi Order, already weakened by the Clone Wars, could not withstand much more scrutiny. She had to find a way to restore faith in the Jedi and prevent the Senate from turning against them.

She used all of her political skills to defend Mace Windu, arguing that he was a loyal and dedicated servant of the Republic, and that it was absurd to suggest he was a Sith Lord. She reminded the Senators of his years of service, his unwavering commitment to justice, and his unwavering devotion to the principles of the Republic.

But even as she defended Windu, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Palpatine's involvement in the situation was particularly troubling. He seemed to be actively encouraging the investigation, while at the same time offering platitudes of support to the Jedi Order. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was manipulating events to achieve his own hidden agenda.

Back at the Jedi Temple, Anakin, Mace Windu, and Ahsoka were meticulously examining the holographic projector and the recording it had played. They discovered that the projector had been tampered with, its internal mechanisms subtly altered to distort the image and superimpose Windu's likeness onto Dooku's figure.

"Someone wanted to frame Master Windu," Ahsoka concluded, her brow furrowed in concentration. "But who, and why?"

Anakin frowned. "The tampering is sophisticated. This wasn't the work of some amateur. Someone with technical expertise and a deep understanding of holographic technology did this."

Mace Windu nodded grimly. "And someone who had access to the Temple. This projector was stored in the archives."

As they delved deeper into the investigation, they uncovered a hidden compartment in the projector containing a small data chip. When they analyzed the chip, they discovered it contained the original recording of Dooku plotting to bomb the Temple, along with a secondary file containing the fabricated image of Mace Windu.

"This is it," Anakin said, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. "This proves that the recording was tampered with. This proves that Master Windu is innocent."

But as they examined the data chip further, they discovered something even more disturbing. The chip contained a series of encrypted messages, messages that implicated not only Count Dooku but also… Palpatine.

The messages suggested that Palpatine was aware of Dooku's plot to bomb the Temple, and that he had actively encouraged it in order to create chaos and sow discord within the Republic. The messages also suggested that he had orchestrated the framing of Mace Windu in order to further undermine the Jedi Order.

Anakin, Mace Windu, and Ahsoka stared at each other in stunned silence. They had uncovered a conspiracy that reached the highest levels of the Republic, a conspiracy that threatened to destroy everything they believed in.

"This can't be real," Anakin whispered, his voice trembling. "Palpatine? A Sith Lord? It's impossible."

Mace Windu's face was grim. "Nothing is impossible, Skywalker. We have uncovered the truth, however disturbing it may be. Now we must decide what to do with it."

[dylanpizzapie]

The senate chamber was a swirling vortex of accusations and denials. Palpatine, with a disturbingly satisfied glint in his eye, had excused himself, leaving behind a mess of galactic proportions. Anakin felt the weight of the Republic, the Jedi Order, and possibly the very Force itself pressing down on him.

"Don't you... just hate... malfunctions?" he'd stammered, trying to inject a sliver of humor into the abyss. It had fallen flatter than a pancake on Mustafar.

Now, Ahsoka was free, a small victory overshadowed by the mushroom cloud rising from the wreckage of his good intentions. Mace Windu, the unflappable Master Windu, was under investigation, his reputation tarnished by a holographic ghost that Anakin himself had inadvertently conjured.

He and Barriss stumbled out of the chamber, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of suspicion and chaos. Every senator's gaze felt like a physical blow, every muttered accusation a fresh wound. They practically ran towards the hangar where Ahsoka awaited.

As soon as they were within hugging distance, Ahsoka slapped him across the face. Not a hard slap, not a furious one, but a firm "snap back to reality" kind of slap.

"What was that for?" Anakin asked, rubbing his cheek, his voice a bewildered croak.

"To make sure you're still sane," Ahsoka said, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. "After...that... I wasn't sure if you'd completely lost it."

Anakin snorted, a humorless sound. "That ship sailed a long time ago, Snips."

A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he slumped against the nearest wall. He was usually bursting with energy, even after the most grueling missions, but this... this was different. This was soul-crushing.

He barely had time to register the arrival of Obi-Wan before his former Master was upon him, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face.

Anakin, desperate to deflect, launched into a rambling monologue. "Master, Obi-Wan, great to see you! Remember that time I saved your life on Christophsis? Man, that was close! I almost forgot, have I ever told you what a great Master you are? A true brother figure? Best negotiator in the galaxy, that's you, Master. A true paragon of…"

Obi-Wan raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. His gaze was steady, unamused. "Anakin. Save it. I assure you, your flattery is wasted on me at this moment."

Anakin winced. He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't seem to stop. The words were tumbling out of him like battle droids from a Separatist factory.

"You will need to make it up to Master Windu, Anakin," Obi-Wan continued, his voice firm but laced with weariness. "And you will make it up to me with many, many drinks and a very, very long explanation. But first, I need to go and try to salvage what little good faith the Jedi Order still has in this blasted Republic." He sighed, a sound that spoke volumes about the current state of affairs, and then turned to leave.

Before Obi-Wan could disappear completely, Anakin blurted out, "It wasn't supposed to be Master Windu! It was Dooku! I swear!"

Obi-Wan paused, his expression softening slightly. "I know, Anakin. I believe you. But intention matters little when the outcome is… well, what we just witnessed." He shook his head and walked away, leaving Anakin feeling even more helpless.

Ahsoka placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't beat yourself up too much, Skyguy. We got me cleared, right? That's what matters."

Anakin managed a weak smile. "Yeah, but at what cost? Windu's reputation? The Order's standing? I just wanted to help you, Snips. I just wanted to prove you were innocent."

"And you did," Ahsoka insisted. "Just… maybe not in the way you planned." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, what do you think Master Windu will make you do to make amends? Polishing the entire Temple with a toothbrush? Cleaning the droid bay with your bare hands?"

Anakin shuddered. "Don't even joke about that, Snips. I'm already having nightmares."

Suddenly, a wave of pure, unadulterated dread washed over the two Jedi. Barriss Offee, somehow even more green than usual, stood frozen nearby, her eyes wide with terror. Looming behind her was Master Luminara Unduli, her expression a mask of profound displeasure.

Barriss swallowed audibly, her throat bobbing nervously. This was not going to be pleasant.

Luminara Unduli, known for her calm demeanor and unwavering adherence to the Jedi Code, rarely displayed overt emotion. But the barely perceptible tightening of her lips and the icy glint in her eyes spoke volumes.

She gestured to Barriss with a curt nod. "Barriss, come with me. We have much to discuss."

Barriss looked at Anakin and Ahsoka with pleading eyes. It was clear she wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and escape the impending lecture.

Anakin, feeling a surge of protectiveness, stepped forward. "Master Unduli, with all due respect, this was my idea. Barriss was just trying to help."

Barriss, to her credit, immediately protested. "It was just as much my fault as it was his, Master. I helped him access the HoloNet. I knew what he was planning."

But Anakin, fueled by a desperate desire to shield her from Luminara's wrath, cut her off. "No, Barriss. As a Jedi Knight, I take full responsibility. I made her come along with it. She was just following my orders."

He knew he was twisting the truth, exaggerating his influence and minimizing Barriss's agency, but he couldn't bear to see her face the full force of Luminara's disappointment.

Luminara Unduli's gaze shifted from Barriss to Anakin, her expression unreadable. "Very well, Knight Skywalker. I will deal with Barriss accordingly." She turned and walked away, Barriss trailing behind her like a condemned prisoner.

Anakin watched them go, a knot of guilt tightening in his stomach. He had hoped to protect Barriss, but he knew he had probably only made things worse.

"You're going to have to make it up to Master Windu, Anakin," Ahsoka said, breaking the silence. "And trust me, that's not going to be easy."

Anakin slumped back against the wall, defeated. "I know, Snips. I know." He closed his eyes, envisioning the endless hours of manual labor, the scathing lectures, and the utter humiliation that awaited him.

The image was so vivid, so terrifying, that he almost wished he had faced Count Dooku himself. Almost.

[dylanpizzapie]

The echoing silence in the Senate chamber was thick enough to choke on. After Anakin’s nervous, "Don’t you… just hate… malfunctions?" the room had exploded. But this new quiet was far more terrifying. It was the silence before a storm, a storm of accusations, paranoia, and political maneuvering.

Anakin remained face-planted on the table, the durasteel cool against his burning cheeks. He could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on him, could practically hear the gears of the Republic grinding to a halt under the sheer absurdity of the situation. He dared to peek up, just a sliver, and saw Mace Windu's face. It was a mask of controlled fury, the kind that made even seasoned Clone Troopers tremble.

Palpatine, ever the opportunist, had already excused himself, murmuring something about a pressing matter with the Banking Clan. “Plan Z. I enjoy Plan Z,” he’d said with a disconcerting smile to Mas Amedda as the two left.

Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed so deeply Anakin feared it might become a permanent fixture, approached cautiously. He knew Anakin and Mace had their... differences, a clash of philosophies and personalities that often resulted in sparks flying. But accusing Windu of being a Sith Lord? Framing him for a terrorist bombing? This was beyond the pale.

Barriss, usually a beacon of calm and reason, looked like she wanted to burrow into the floor and become one with the ventilation system. The vibrant green of her skin was muted, almost sickly. She was clearly mortified, anticipating the inevitable lecture from Luminara Unduli about the dangers of reckless actions and the importance of serene contemplation.

Mace Windu, his voice dangerously low, broke the silence. "Skywalker," he began, each syllable dripping with arctic frost. "Explain. Yourself."

Anakin scrambled to his feet, his hands flying in frantic gestures. "Master Windu, it's not what it looks like! I swear! We found evidence – real evidence – that Dooku was planning to bomb the Temple. The holo… it malfunctioned. It was supposed to show Dooku!"

His words sounded hollow, desperate, especially in the face of the manipulated footage that had played out for all to see. He tried to piece it together, to regain control of the narrative that was spiraling out of control. "Senator Amidala, you know I would never intentionally…" He trailed off, seeing the concern etched on Padme's face. This wasn't just about him anymore, it was about Ahsoka, about the Jedi Order, about the stability of the Republic.

Panicked, Anakin began calling upon anyone he could think of as a character witness, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. He hauled up Senator Organa, who, while visibly flustered, testified to Windu's unwavering commitment to the Republic, even if he could be...intimidating. He then called upon Kit Fistos, Ki Adi Mundi and Plo Koon. All spoke about Master Windu's loyality, however, to Anakin's horror, some even said that Master Windu could be overly strict and cold.

In a stroke of what he thought was inspiration, he turned to Depa Billaba, Windu's former Padawan. "Who better to vouch for Master Windu than his own apprentice? Depa, tell them! Tell them about the Master you know, the man who guided you, who…"

Depa Billaba, still recovering from the trauma of her mission on Haruun Kal, looked overwhelmed and deeply uncomfortable. "Master Windu," she said slowly, her voice strained, "was a demanding Master. He taught me discipline, control… he cared deeply for my well-being, though he didn't always show it outwardly."

Anakin seized on her words, misinterpreting her hesitation. "See? Caring! He's caring! He's strict, yes, but that's because he wants everyone to be their best!"

Desperate, he even wheeled forward R2-D2, who was desperately trying to back away and find a dark corner. "And look at R2! He loves Master Windu, don't you, buddy? He's just… upset by all the fighting." R2-D2 emitted a series of panicked beeps and whistles that, to Anakin's ears, sounded like expressions of deep affection. To everyone else, they sounded like a mechanical scream for help.

The Senate chamber descended further into chaos. Senators began shouting accusations, conspiracy theories flying like shrapnel. Some believed Windu was a traitor, a Sith Lord in disguise. Others thought Anakin was framing Windu to protect Ahsoka, a theory that made Anakin wince because, in a horribly twisted way, they were right. Still others were convinced that the Jedi had faked the Temple bombing as part of a grand scheme to seize power.

Anakin, defeated, slumped back into his chair, his head hitting the table with a dull thud. This was a disaster of epic proportions. He had somehow managed to unravel the carefully constructed fabric of the Republic, all in a misguided attempt to help Ahsoka. He felt a strange urge to get a terrible haircut.

The Clone Troopers, programmed for combat and unwavering loyalty, looked utterly bewildered. Rex, his face etched with concern, exchanged a worried glance with the other members of the 501st. He was beginning to suspect that General Skywalker had finally taken one too many blows to the head.

In the end, Ahsoka was released, albeit under a cloud of suspicion. Mace Windu, however, was now the subject of a full-scale investigation, his reputation tarnished, his future uncertain.

Anakin and Barriss, a pair of guilty shadows, were desperate to escape the stifling atmosphere of the Senate building. They found Ahsoka waiting for them, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and confusion.

Obi-Wan intercepted them before they could make their escape. Anakin, in a desperate attempt to deflect, launched into a rambling anecdote about the time he had saved Obi-Wan's life on Christophsis, conveniently glossing over the fact that he had almost gotten them both killed in the process. He then launched into a spiel about how great Obi-Wan was as a master, how wise and patient, how…

Obi-Wan, his expression unamused, simply raised a hand, cutting Anakin off. "Anakin," he sighed, "we will discuss this later. At length."

Barriss, meanwhile, had frozen, her eyes wide with horror as she saw Luminara Unduli approaching. The grim set of her Master's jaw suggested that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. Barriss swallowed hard, bracing herself for the inevitable storm. This would not be pleasant. Not at all.

[dylanpizzapie]

The holographic projector lay in shattered pieces on the durasteel floor, still faintly flickering with rogue static. The silence in the chamber was thick enough to cut with a lightsaber. Anakin, sweating and wide-eyed, forced a nervous chuckle.

"Don't you... just hate... malfunctions?"

The fragile pretense cracked. The chamber erupted. Senators roared, accusations flew, and whispered conversations spread like wildfire.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, a mixture of confusion and disappointment etched on his face. "Anakin... what have you done?" He ran a hand through his beard, a gesture of deep unease. He understood protecting Ahsoka, but this... this felt like a different species of reckless.

Barriss shrunk further into herself. Her knuckles were white as she gripped her robes. This wasn't supposed to happen. Dooku was supposed to be exposed, Ahsoka exonerated, and the Jedi Order strengthened. Now... now everything was crumbling.

Mace Windu's gaze was a lightsaber beam in itself. He stood rigid, radiating a controlled fury that promised a reckoning.

Anakin, scrambling, blurted, "Master Windu, I swear! It was supposed to be Dooku. The recording, it... it was a glitch! A Sith trick!"

His words, amplified by the remaining echoes of the corrupted holo, only seemed to solidify the accusations against Windu. Desperate, Anakin seized upon the nearest figures.

"Senator Amidala, you know Master Windu! He's dedicated to the Republic!"

Padme, her face pale, stepped forward. "Master Windu is a respected member of the Jedi Council. I've always known him to be honorable." But even her testimony couldn't quell the rising tide of suspicion.

Anakin grabbed at straws, pulling anyone he could into the fray. "Captain Rex! You've served alongside Master Windu in countless battles! Tell them!"

Rex, standing stiffly at attention, hesitated. "Well, sir, General Windu is... he's a tough general. Doesn't mince words. But he always puts the mission first." Rex's attempt at a character reference sounded more like a cautious observation.

Reaching the bottom of the barrel, Anakin grabbed R2-D2, who beeped in frantic protest, desperately trying to roll away. "R2! Tell them! Tell them how much you admire Master Windu!"

R2-D2 emitted a series of escalating, panicked beeps that sounded suspiciously like an SOS signal. Anakin, ignoring the droid's cries, interpreted them as a ringing endorsement. "See! He loves him! He's heartbroken by all this fighting!"

Depa Billaba, Windu's former Padawan, was brought forward, looking bewildered. "Master Windu was... a strict but fair instructor. He demanded discipline and adherence to the Jedi Code."

"There!" Anakin exclaimed, grasping at her words like a lifeline. "Who better to vouch for him than his own Padawan?" He looked around the chamber, pleading with the senators. "He's a Jedi Master! A pillar of the Order!"

The senators, however, were beyond reason. Accusations became louder, more outlandish. Conspiracy theories blossomed, painting the Jedi as power-hungry conspirators, Windu as a Sith Lord in disguise, and Anakin as a desperate pawn.

Finally, defeated, Anakin slumped onto the table, burying his face in his hands. "This is a disaster," he mumbled into the hard surface.

Across the room, Palpatine subtly excused himself, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. "Plan Z," he murmured, almost to himself. "I do enjoy Plan Z."

Ahsoka, now free but burdened by the wreckage of the trial, approached Anakin. "Master, are you okay?"

Anakin raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. "Okay? Ahsoka, I just accused Mace Windu of treason! I think 'okay' sailed a long time ago." He looked at Barriss, standing frozen in the corner. "We screwed up, Barriss. Badly."

Barriss, avoiding eye contact, whispered, "I... I never meant for this to happen."

Windu, his expression grim, approached them. He fixed Anakin with a look that could melt durasteel. "Skywalker," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We will discuss this... later."

Anakin swallowed hard. He knew that "later" involved a lot of scrubbing, meditating, and probably a forced vacation to a desolate Outer Rim planet.

As they turned to leave the chamber, the weight of their actions pressed down on them. Ahsoka was free, but at what cost? The Jedi Order, already weakened by the war, was now fractured and under suspicion. And Anakin... Anakin had just made the worst mistake of his life.

[dylanpizzapie]

The silence after the holo-projector shattered was thick enough to cut with a lightsaber. All eyes were on Anakin, his nervous laughter hanging in the air like a bad smell.

"Don't you… just hate… malfunctions?" he stammered, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears.

Then the dam broke. Senators erupted into a cacophony of accusations and defenses. Obi-Wan stared at Anakin, a mixture of confusion and disappointment etched on his face. Barriss, next to Anakin, looked like she was about to be sick, her face pale and her eyes wide with horror.

Amidst the rising tide of chaos, Palpatine smoothly excused himself. "A moment, please," he murmured, a glint of something dark flashing in his eyes as he turned away. To himself, he chuckled, "Plan Z. I enjoy Plan Z."

Obi-Wan pushed through the noise, his voice tight with concern. "Anakin, what is the meaning of this? You know Mace Windu is a loyal Jedi Master. What were you trying to prove?"

Anakin’s hands flew up in a gesture of desperate explanation. "Master, I… I don't know what happened! The recording, it was supposed to show Dooku! Dooku planning the bombing! I swear!"

Mace Windu, his face a mask of controlled fury, stepped forward. "Skywalker," he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous. "Explain yourself."

Panic rising in his throat, Anakin grabbed at straws. "He's a good man! He's a great Jedi! Ask anyone!" He gestured wildly at the assembled senators, clones, and Jedi. "He practically raised Ahsoka! He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

A senator scoffed. "Raised her? Seems more like he was setting her up to take the fall!"

Anakin rounded on the senator, his face red. "That's not true! He was just… he was being cautious! He's always cautious! Ask his former Padawan, Depa! She knows him!"

Depa Billaba, looking deeply uncomfortable, cleared her throat. "Master Windu is a demanding teacher," she said carefully. "But he is also a just and honorable man. He instilled in me a strong sense of duty to the Republic and the Jedi Order."

Anakin latched onto her words like a lifeline. “See? See? Who knows a master better than his Padawan!?” He swung around, spotting R2-D2 attempting to discreetly roll away. "Even R2 knows! R2, tell them how much you like Master Windu!"

R2-D2 emitted a series of frantic beeps and whistles, sounding less like affection and more like a distress signal.

Anakin, sweating profusely, ignored the droid’s pleas. "He's just… he's overwhelmed with emotion! He loves Master Windu! He's upset by all the fighting!"

Rex, standing rigid with the rest of the 501st, exchanged a worried glance with another clone. "Sir? You okay, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

The senate floor descended further into chaos. Accusations flew like blaster bolts, hitting targets and bystanders alike. Some senators were convinced Windu was a Sith Lord, others that Anakin was framing him, and still others, bizarrely, that the Jedi had bombed their own temple as part of a power grab.

Anakin, defeated, finally collapsed forward, burying his face in his hands on the table. "This is a disaster," he groaned. "A complete, utter, galaxy-ending disaster." He muttered something unintelligible about hairstyles and the Force, his mental state clearly deteriorating.

Barriss edged further away from him, her face a mask of misery and guilt. She could already hear Master Luminara's disappointed lecture echoing in her mind.

In the end, Ahsoka was cleared, albeit amidst a climate of suspicion and distrust. Mace Windu, however, was now under official investigation. He gave Anakin one last, withering look before being escorted away.

Anakin and Barriss, alone and horrified, exchanged a look of utter despair. Their plan had worked, in the worst, most catastrophic way imaginable. The Republic was in turmoil, the Jedi Order was fractured, and Mace Windu's reputation lay in tatters. All thanks to their desperate attempt to save Ahsoka.

"What have we done?" Barriss whispered, her voice barely audible above the lingering echoes of pandemonium.

[dylanpizzapie]

The sight of them momentarily startled Anakin, his hand wavering, the lightsaber blade flickering dangerously close to his chest. His eyes darted between them, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within – guilt, shame, fear, and a desperate, twisted hope that they could somehow understand.

“Go away,” he choked out, his voice raspy. “You don’t understand. I’m saving you all.”

Padme took a tentative step forward, her face etched with worry and love. "Anakin, what are you doing? What's happening?"

"Saving you," he repeated, his voice rising in pitch. "From me! I'm going to become... something terrible. I can't let it happen. I won’t.” He gestured wildly with the lightsaber, the blue blade humming, a stark contrast to the shadows clinging to his face. “I’ve seen it. Mortis showed me. I'll betray you all! I’ll… I’ll kill you, Padme!”

Tears streamed down Padme's face. "Ani, you would never-"

"I will!" he interrupted, his voice cracking. "That's the horror! That's the monster I am inside! I hurt everyone I love. I push them away… or worse!” He looked at Ahsoka and Rex, his eyes filled with grief. "You deserve so much better than me. All of you do."

Ahsoka, her features a mask of anguish, reached out a hand. "Master, you're not a monster. You're a good man. You're the best Jedi I know."

Anakin laughed, a hollow, broken sound. "That’s a lie, Ahsoka. A comforting lie. I'm going to slaughter innocents, turn on my brothers, choke the life out of my own wife!" He stumbled back, the lightsaber shaking violently. “I can't live with that! I can't let it happen!”

Obi-Wan stepped forward, his voice calm and measured, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around them. "Anakin, listen to me. You're not alone. We can help you. We can face this together."

"Together?" Anakin scoffed. "You think you can stop it? You think love can stop it? Mortis showed me the truth. It's inevitable! I am Darth Vader. And all of you will suffer because of it!" He fixated on Padme, his face twisting with pain. "Especially you."

Rex, his face grim, spoke with the authority of a leader. "General, stand down. Let us help you."

“Help me how?” Anakin screamed, his voice ragged. “Erase my memory? Lobotomize me? I'll still be in there! Waiting! Lurking! The monster is always there, just beneath the surface, ready to claw its way out.” He paused, his eyes darting around. “Killing me is the only way, the only way you all will be safe from me. Let me die.”

Obi-Wan took another step closer, lowering his own lightsaber, signaling that he meant no harm. “Anakin, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re letting fear control you. You have the strength to choose a different path. You always have."

"I’m not that strong," Anakin whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I'm weak! I'm selfish! I'm afraid! And that's why I'm going to hurt everyone I love. I won't let it happen!” He raised the lightsaber again, his hand trembling.

In that moment, Padme surged forward, throwing her arms around him. "Anakin, no!"

The lightsaber wavered, the blade just inches from her chest. Anakin gasped, his eyes widening in horror. He tried to pull away, but Padme held on tight, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered fiercely. "I love you, Ani. I always will. And I know, deep down, that you're not a monster. You're a good man, a kind man, a man who's lost and hurting. But I'm here. We're all here. Don't give up on us. Don't give up on yourself."

Anakin stood frozen, the lightsaber shaking in his grasp. The words, the love, the unwavering faith in her voice, cracked through the wall of fear and despair that had consumed him. He gripped the lightsaber tighter, his knuckles white, struggling against the darkness inside him.

With a sob, he deactivated the blade, the blue light vanishing, leaving him shrouded in shadow. He collapsed into Padme's arms, his body wracked with sobs. He was still terrified, still plagued by the visions of the future, but for the first time in weeks, a tiny spark of hope flickered within him. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't destined to become Darth Vader. Maybe, with the help of those who loved him, he could find a way to fight the darkness and choose a different path.