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As always, the night sky was a haze, the stars obscured by the glow of billions of planetary lights. Anakin stared at the spot where the faint constellation of Naboo would be if the sky were clear; the spot where Padme would be if she hadn't been hidden amongst those unseen stars. Where was she? Where would Kenobi hide her?
The desire to find Padme was consuming him; the need to see her again was eating away at his composure. 'I love you so much, Ani. I would be lost without you.' He could see her eyes fluttering closed as she lifted her face to his. You are my own sweet love, Padme. He could taste her honeyed lips as he savored her, then consumed her. Just the thought made him hunger once more. She was his. Her love was his. The family they would have was his. Hatred leapt in his breast. Blast Kenobi for taking that from him! Anakin shivered as the darkness shrouding his soul seemed to vibrate with laughter. Invisible fingers stroked and twisted his thoughts, finally coaxing a wan smile. The very darkness he hated would give him the power to destroy his tormentor.
"Here you are, my young apprentice." Palpatine joined him on the balcony.
Anakin inclined his head, but did not reply. He felt a ripple of displeasure.
"Was the destruction on Obroa-Skai really necessary?" The emperor asked.
Anakin shrugged. "No. But there is one less Jedi in the galaxy." He barely heard the small chuckle.
"Had Kenobi been there?"
Anakin sensed that the emperor already knew the answer. "No. I have no idea where to search from here. It's like he's disappeared into a black hole."
"Perhaps not."
Turning, Anakin peered down at his master. "You have an idea."
"Kenobi was ever a creature of the Council."
"True," he whispered. 'The Council is right, Padawan. You will not defy them in this.' But ... 'No buts.' Anakin closed his ears to the memories, and suddenly remembered rumors flooded his mind -- rumors that had insinuated that the Council had told Obi-Wan to let ... No! He loved Qui-Gon as much as I did. More. Even he would never do that. Would he?
Returning his gaze to the night sky, Anakin nodded and said, "Find the Council and I find Kenobi. But who remains? Half the Council is dead, including Windu. Word says that Yoda is, as well. Beyond those two, Kenobi mentioned very few ..." His head dropped and he clenched the rail. "I don't have the time to chase phantom leads, Master. I have the sense that if I don't find her soon, a ... a window of opportunity will close. Forever."
"Yes. There is something else at work here. We must proceed with caution."
"You suspect a trap?"
"Perhaps."
Fear skittered through Anakin's thoughts. "Kenobi wouldn't harm Padme. He wouldn't dare."
"I don't think harm was ever his intention."
Anakin searched the Emperor's shadowed gaze. "Meaning .... what?" No answer came. Anakin's thoughts started to spin. Many times Palpatine had suggested that he believed Kenobi had wanted the happiness Anakin had found. Did he just want a similar happiness, or Anakin's own happiness? His breathing turned shallow. "You think, you think Kenobi ... wants Padme? My Padme?"
"Some emotions are very easy to read, my young apprentice. And looks can be equally revealing."
A picture rose in his mind, of Kenobi helping Padme to her feet. Had his touch lingered too long? Had his eyes caressed her face, her figure?
Slamming his fists against the railing, Anakin bent over until his vision cleared. He spoke through clenched teeth. "If Kenobi has touched her ... he will cry out for death a thousand times before I'm through with him."
A soft snort pulled his gaze back to Palpatine. Anakin scowled. "What?"
The Emperor's eyes shone black in the night. "Why was Kenobi able to snatch her away from Naboo so easily? And why is it that she didn't try to escape from him when she had the chance on Indu San?"
Palpatine melted into the darkened palace, leaving Anakin gaping, his mind awash with disbelief.
The whelp had given it away, looking repeatedly to the hills. His quarry would not escape. The incline sharpened and Anakin slowed slightly. His breathing came harder, as the oxygen filter strapped to his chest labored to keep up with his demands. It was a suffocating necessity, having the breathing mask strapped over his face.
That life of any kind could exist in the oxygen-poor environment of Dorin was amazing; that a sentient lifeform could was a miracle.
The hillside was barren except for the tawny stubble coating it. Nothing could hide here. As Anakin topped the rise, an emerald lake came into view. Yellow diamonds of light danced across the ripples. Black boulders dotted the shoreline. Anakin narrowed his eyes, irritated at how the visor just barely distorted his view, making the air seem thick, objects hazy. But perhaps the poison atmosphere itself was doing that.
Regardless, it didn't hinder the flow of the Force, and the object of his search was easy to locate, even with shields up and the Force under tight control. Anakin veered right, to a field of a dozen boulders edging the lake. As he neared the shore, he spotted the figure, perched atop a smaller rock and leaning against a larger one that butted up to the first. The figure didn't move as he approached.
"I sensed you when you first entered the village."
Anakin halted two meters away and planted his hands on his hips. He regarded the Jedi for a moment, then said, "Yet you didn't run. Are you brave or foolish, Plo Koon?"
The Kel Dor crossed his legs and leaned forward, arms resting loosely on his knees. "You know where the path of fear leads, yet, you think I should be afraid. You don't seek me, so why should I express fear?"
Scanning the enlarged ears, eyes and nose that gave the Jedi a slightly insectoid look, Anakin replied, "Ah, yes. The famous Kel Dor extrasensory perception. They claim it makes you a great warrior. I wouldn't know. All I ever knew of it was you probing my mind while I stood before the Council."
"You developed a remarkable talent for hiding your emotions, young Skywalker. Once or twice I thought I sensed anger or hate, but only ever the smallest touch, and then it would be gone, as if it had never been."
"Would you like to feel it now?"
"I can shield myself. It would be useless to try to weaken me through such tactics."
Anakin sat on a rock, almost at the Jedi's feet, and looked up. "Why would I attack if I'm not here for you?"
"Evil does not always need a reason."
Leaning forward to brush sand off his black boots, Anakin forced the rising ire to retreat.
"You anger easily," Plo said.
Ignoring the needling comment, Anakin stared across the lake to the higher hills beyond. "Who do I come for, if not you? Flushing out a member of the Jedi Council is reason enough to travel to the edge of the Corporate Sector."
"You seek your master, of course."
"Kenobi is not my master." With icy calm, Anakin tossed a pebble into the water. "Are you hiding him?"
"No. Though I would, if he asked."
"Where is he?"
"Far from here, I would imagine. Or closer than we could ever guess."
Anakin turned to see a slight smile crinkling the Kel Dor's eyes. This was getting him nowhere fast. A week to get here. For what? To listen to this self-satisfied drivel? The trail was fading with every day. Who was he kidding? The trail didn't exist.
"Frustration is the blade tip of anger," Plo said.
"Do you have any idea how irritating that is?"
The Kel Dor's gaze drifted away. "My good friend, Qui-Gon, used to say the exact same thing. Only his tone was always teasing and full of light."
Anakin fell silent. His thoughts reeled, spinning wildly before finally coming together. "Tell me about the mission that killed Qui-Gon."
Surprise laced Plo's reply. "You were there. You know much more of the details than I."
"No, I mean the Council briefing. Did you brief Kenobi separately for the mission? Did you give him special instructions?"
"Ah. You speak of that foolish rumor that said we had told Obi-Wan to pull back and let Qui-Gon be killed by the Sith creature."
"Did you?"
"Qui-Gon was a dear friend. Such a question cannot be dignified with an answer."
"Maybe it was just Yoda. Maybe Yoda ordered Kenobi ..."
"Enough! This is foolish talk, young Skywalker. There was no briefing. It was a private commission. The Council was informed it was happening. We had no say in the matter. Why should this concern you? Why do you seek to lay false crimes at Obi-Wan's feet?"
"I'm sure you can feel the reason."
"I can feel your hate for him. But that does not tell me the reason for such hate."
"I have my reasons." Anakin stood and began pacing in front of the Kel Dor, his breathing sounding loudly through the mask that protected him from the deadly atmosphere. He halted suddenly, sending a spray of sand up the side of the boulder Plo sat upon. "If not the Council, then who commissioned Qui-Gon?"
Plo Koon regarded him with a solemn expression.
Anakin folded his arms. "What do you fear? Qui-Gon is dead. And besides, surely you can tell I loved him, too?"
"Qui-Gon became far too important in your mind, young Skywalker. Had he lived, he would be horrified at the way you have deified him. Obi-Wan never stood a chance at gaining your respect, when you measured each act by what you thought Qui-Gon would have done."
Nostrils flaring, Anakin said, "You spoke with Kenobi."
"We had occasion to do so."
"You know nothing of what I went through."
"Perhaps more than you realize."
Anakin spun away, frustration building again. Why was he wasting his time here? He tugged at the tube running from mask to filter. What was here that was niggling on the edge of his knowing? Why was the memory of Qui-Gon's death haunting him right now? Was it just because he had been friends with this Kel Dor?
Sudden sadness pressed upon Anakin, and he sank to the sand, perched on knees and toes, in a typical Jedi position of rest. His chin sagged to his chest. The Kel Dor dropped to the ground in front of him and mirrored his pose. Anakin could see the slim fingers curling over the Kel Dor's knees. He stared at the grey fingernails for a long moment, then slowly raised his chin to meet the intense green gaze.
"Please, Plo Koon. Who sent Qui-Gon to his death? Who started me down this path?"
"A friend sent Qui-Gon on that fateful mission. No one desired his death, young Skywalker. No one except the Sith."
Pain filled the plea. "Who?"
The Kel Dor sighed. "Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went to Naboo at the request of the Chancellor. As I said, a friend. I was the one to take the news of Qui-Gon's death to Finis. It crushed him. He wrongly blamed himself. I'm sure it is the reason he left the Senate outright."
The Force swirled thickly. Anakin searched the Kel Dor's face as darkness whispered. Find the Council and you find Kenobi. He smiled beneath his oxygen mask. Of course. Ex-chancellor Finis Valorum, friend of the Council. And perhaps not such a weakling, after all, if he dared to harbor Kenobi.
Rising smoothly to his feet, Anakin flexed his black-gloved hand as he looked down at the Jedi Master. He bowed, "Thank you, Plo Koon."
"The Force be with you, young Skywalker."
"Don't you hate me?"
"No. Though I wish we might have come to know each other under different circumstances."
Anakin inclined his head and turned away. He spun, his red blade slicing downwards. Plo Koon was already somersaulting backwards. As he popped to his feet, his yellow blade sprang to life.
The warriors circled each other warily, edging away from the lake shore onto solid ground. Anakin tested his opponent's defenses; each parry was blocked. Anakin pressed the attack. Thrust. Parry. Lunge. Every move was smoothly deflected. Anger began to build. He streamed the emotion into his onslaught. The blows came harder, faster.
The blades locked together, sizzling and spitting orange sparks. Sweat trickled down Anakin's nose as he stared into the Kel Dor's eyes. The red blade began to gain supremacy, pressing the yellow one closer to Plo's face. Still those implacable eyes showed no emotion but acceptance. Hatred flared; potency surged. Anakin thrust Plo away from him and followed with a quick series of strikes.
Anakin leapt and dove over Plo Koon, flipping and rebounding off a boulder. His toe clipped the Kel Dor's shoulder. Plo staggered a step. Anakin thrust. The yellow blade barely deflected the attack. Hammering the Kel Dor with fierce blows, Anakin poured out his black emotions in a constant stream. The strength of the attack increased.
Plo Koon backed away, his reactions slowing slightly. Thrust right. Parry left. Strike. Strike. Plo's heel sank in the sand and he stumbled. Anakin spun and lunged, almost surprised when his blade bit flesh. One-handed, Plo tried to block the next blow. It glanced off his thigh. The Kel Dor hissed. Cutting upwards, Anakin knocked the lightsaber from Plo's hand. He shifted and buried his own blade in Plo's mid-section. With a blank expression, Plo Koon fell back.
Switching off his blade, Anakin stared at the downed warrior. Had he been younger, Plo Koon might have prevailed. The sound of Anakin's own breathing filled the oxygen mask, drowning out the whisper of regret. He dropped to one knee and searched the Kel Dor's face. How could acceptance still fill his eyes? What could grant such peace?
A sigh escaped Plo's lips. He blinked and focused on Anakin. "Why?"
Anakin sneered beneath the mask. "Does evil need a reason?"
"But I felt the good in you," Plo whispered.
"Kenobi stole the only good in my life. Now, thanks to you, I can get her back."
"You have no need." Plo took a gasping breath. "Look deep within. You already have ... that which will save you." He shuddered and slumped into the sand.
Anakin jumped to his feet. He spun and strode away without looking back. Dread trembled along his limbs. He had no desire to see another body disappear before his eyes.
The fear transformed to anger. What did the Kel Dor know of what he needed? Nothing. What did he know of what lay deep inside? Nothing. His last words had been an attempt to sew uncertainty. Typical Jedi deceitfulness. Just like Kenobi.
Determination lengthened Anakin's strides. Exultation sang along his nerves. It was all he could do to not rip off the breathing mask and shout his victory.
I have you now, Kenobi.
Anakin stepped over the body into the atrium. The quietly gurgling streams and tall tropical plants muffled the sound of blaster fire deeper in the building. Anakin pushed his black cloak back and planted his fists on his hips. He let the serene setting dull the sharp edge of his impatience. A full month the Emperor had kept him on Coruscant, his anxiety building every second. All so he could play toady. He had known the Emperor had gloated over his chaffing, all the while knowing the stranglehold of darkness would make him obey his master's bidding, no matter the cost.
Palpatine had taken pleasure in mocking him, pointing out, at every opportunity, that it was a fool's errand to pursue a woman who had chosen another. But he was wrong. He had to be. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut. The thought of wrapping Padme in his embrace was all that was keeping him sane. He needed to hear her say that she was his. Force help him, he needed to look into hers eyes and know it would all work out. A smile flitted across his lips. And it would work out, now that Kenobi was within his reach.
Inhaling deadly calm, Anakin turned and bounded up the curving staircase. He swept past a collection of rare and beautiful pottery, the hem of his cloak slapping the evenly spaced pedestals. Reaching out with the Force, he opened the ebony doors blocking his way and swooped into a large office.
Anakin ignored the inviting atmosphere to stare at the man seated behind a large tan and blue marble desk. Finis Valorum leaned back, fingers steepled, as he returned the look with his own clear blue gaze. After a moment of strained silence, the ex-chancellor rose and brushed his deep green robe.
Valorum said, "Search all you want. She is not here."
She? She!
With a bellow of rage, Anakin charged, leaping the desk. He spun, grabbed Valorum by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Air whooshed out of the old man's lungs. He paled, but held Anakin's gaze.
A whisper is all Anakin could manage. "Padme was here? You kept my wife prisoner?" He tightened his hold.
"No," Valorum rasped. "I would never agree to that. She stayed of her own free will."
Valorum slumped against the wall when suddenly released. Anakin glared for a moment, then pivoted and stared out the large windows, clenching and unclenching his fists. He had come searching for Kenobi, but had found Padme's trail instead. "Tell me."
"There is nothing to tell. Two nights ago a Jedi showed up in the middle of the night and whisked her away."
Two nights? Master, why did you delay me? Why? "Was it Kenobi?"
"No. A female. I didn't know her."
"But Kenobi brought her here."
"Yes."
Anakin spun and narrowed his eyes. "And you kept her."
"I gave refuge to a frightened woman. Nothing more."
Fighting to stay calm, Anakin bit out, "Where?"
Confusion furrowed Vallorum's brow.
Anakin scowled. "Where did she stay?"
"You mean her quarters? Why --"
"Tell me." Menace laced the words.
"Next floor up. Mine are directly above this office. Her, her rooms were three doors down on the left." Valorum pointed. "A turbolift stands directly outside the doors, on the right. But there's nothing ..."
Anakin was already moving. He pounded the lift door, waiting for it to open. He pressed his hand over his eyes as the lift moved upwards. He squeezed out of the opening door and ran, bursting into the quarter's sitting room.
A perfume of sadness and longing enveloped Anakin, carbon-freezing him. He closed his eyes and inhaled the mesmerizing scent of ... Padme. Anakin groaned and fell to his knees, the faint sense of Padme's presence caressing every pore, every nerve and fiber of his being. He doubled over as the pain of missing her, of wanting her, crashed over him in wave after wave. The agony crested, ebbing slowly.
The desire to be near her in any way, drove Anakin to his feet. He circled the room, touching everything, brushing his fingers along the backs of chairs, picking up small objects, lingering over those he sensed she'd handled. Engulfed by a haze of memories, he floated through the bedroom door, his feet carrying him to a closet. He opened the door and Padme's perfume rolled over him. Groaning again, he buried his face in a handful of clothes. His shoulders shook as he fought to regain control.
Stumbling away from the closet, Anakin lurched to the window and threw it open, inhaling spicy air that drove Padme's smell from his mind. He slowly turned, his gaze skipping around the muted yellow and blue room, finally coming to rest on the bed. He sat on the edge and rested his hand on one of the pillows. It had been plumped and patted, but he could still sense the indent her head would have made. His gaze skittered to the other pillow and back, dark thoughts suddenly fogging his mind. No. Padme loves me. She's mine.
His gaze roved over her bedside table. A hairbrush. A chrono. A tiny blaster -- the one she had always kept tucked under her pillow. Anakin smiled. He reached out and touched the corner of the table, his hand dropping to linger on the handle of the single drawer.
It opened to reveal a few blank papers, one crumpled note that he laid aside, and a blood-stained cloth. Anakin frowned and picked up the bit of toweling, scanning it with the Force. His nostrils flared as he crushed the cloth in his grip. Kenobi's blood. The Jedi's stench filled the room. Padme's room. Anakin tucked the cloth under his belt and retrieved the note. He smoothed it out and held it up to the light.
'Anakin. I hope you never find this note, for it means you have found ...' Padme's handwriting trailed off into illegibility.
The note slipped from his grasp. Anakin sat unmoving, disbelief numbing his mind. He cringed in horror at the thoughts pounding at his sanity. She loved him so much she'd kept a bit of cloth with his blood on it? She loved him? Kenobi? And she didn't want to be found? Incredulity churned into pain-soaked rage.
Lunging to his feet, he knocked over the table. He spun and heaved the bed over on its side. The bed where they'd held each other, where they'd kissed, where Kenobi had brushed Padme's shift from her shoulders and buried his face in her neck, where he'd lost himself in her sweetness ... With a howl, Anakin whipped out his lightsaber, hacking at the bed until it was a pile of unrecognizable chunks.
Still his rage hungered. Anakin sliced and scored everything within reach, moving on only when the smoldering clothing in the closet set off a sprinkler system in the room. He staggered to the sitting room and proceeded to dismember every piece of furniture. He stood in the middle of the chaos and loosed his pain in a string of banshee wails.
Anakin groped his way out the door and down the hall to the turbolift, then crashed back into Valorum's office. The old man wheeled around from where he'd been looking out the window. Concern and fear clouded the blue gaze.
Black and menacing, Anakin stalked toward Valorum, each step punctuated by a single word. "How often did he visit?"
Valorum blinked. "Who?"
"Kenobi. How ... often?"
A second of silence. "Never."
"Liar!" Anakin lunged and seized the old man's arm.
"I'm not lying. No one came except the one who took her. If anyone else did, it was without my knowledge."
Pulling the blood-stained cloth from under his belt, Anakin shook it. "Explain this."
"I ..."
"Kenobi's blood. In her room."
Seething, Anakin studied the blank look as it turned to knowing. He tightened his grip.
Valorum swallowed. "The day, the day Kenobi brought her, he had an accident. Knocked over some glassware. Cut his hand on the pieces. I gave him the cloth to stop the bleeding. I didn't know she'd kept it. I'd forgotten all about it."
His hand dropped and his gaze grew distant. An eerie calm settled over the brooding young man. Anakin whispered,"She, she found rest here. I sensed it."
Valorum's voice came as if from a great distance. "I tried to make her feel welcome. I always liked the queen. She grew very dear to me in the short time she was here."
Anakin's narrow gaze flashed back to Valorum. "You aided a Jedi. You helped Kenobi."
The blue eyes cleared. "Kill me, if you must. Just make it quick."
"If you insist."
Anakin pinched finger and thumb together. Valorum started to choke, grasping at his neck to loosen invisible fingers. Anakin's resolve faltered and he released his victim. Valorum fell to all fours, gagging as he struggled for air.
"Your kindness to her is your salvation, old man."
In the glaring sunshine, just outside Finis Valorum's home, Anakin halted and looked up into the shocking blue sky. How could it be so bright and clear when his soul was so dark? Sadness etched furrows deep into his mind. How has it come to this, Padme? Anger flowed into the crevices. You will lose your lover to my blade. I hope you know that.
Anakin toggled his comlink. "Time for some more target practice, Captain. Recall our men first, then level this structure."
As the shuttle lifted off the ground, Anakin surveyed the smoking rubble with satisfaction. A movement on the hill above the destroyed building caught his eye. A green robe. Blackness thundered through his mind. Had the captain warned Valorum? He would pay for his insolence. He squeezed his eyes shut as fury mounted, piling higher and higher.
An image branded itself on the inside of his eyelids: Kenobi brushing his nose across Padme's cheek, claiming her lips with his own.
The armrest snapped under his grip.
Beings and droids alike scurried out of the dark lord's path. Those that didn't were pushed aside by a wedge of anger that preceeded him like the phalanx of an invading army. His footsteps clanged harshly. He stretched his hand out and the huge doors blocking his way slammed into the walls with a force that made them shudder.
Anakin's black cloak flapped wildly as his long strides ate up the distance across the cavernous and ostentatious throne room. He jerked to a stop as he collided with an invisible wall stronger than his own. He glared at Palpatine, not caring that his fury shone laser-bright in his eyes.
Abruptly Anakin said, "I missed her by two days."
"Who?" Palpatine sneered. "You mean Valorum was hiding that little harlot instead of Kenobi?"
"My wife is no harlot," Anakin ground out.
Palpatine leaned forward. "The two people who claimed to love you more than any others betrayed you, my young apprentice. Completely and ... most intimately. So what do you call the woman who shared her favors with your own Jedi master, your mentor, your friend?"
"Stop it!" Anakin began to pace. "I would have Padme beside me now, if not for your insistence that I dance attendance upon you. I would know the truth." He spun and pointed a shaking finger at Palpatine. "You kept me from that truth."
"You don't want the truth. You only want the girl. She is nothing to us."
"No! She is mine! You have no right to keep her from me."
Pain crashed into his mind, driving Anakin to his knees. He gripped his head in his hands and rocked silently as agony swept his anger aside. The roaring in his ears subsided and he stilled. Echoes of pain lingered before finally dissipating to leave a chilling void.
The emperor's voice was cold. "You are mine. And you do as I say. I will not tolerate insolence." Darkness thickened the moment of silence. "So, tell me what you would do, if your Padme was here now."
Anakin took two deep calming breaths. "I'd look in her eyes and know the truth."
"Fool. You'd smell Kenobi's scent lingering on her shimmersilk skin and see her swollen, freshly-kissed lips, and your anger would crush her." Anakin moaned as Palpatine continued, "Is that what you want to do? Kill her?"
"No," whispered Anakin. "No." Force help me, I love her. Even now.
"If you don't want to kill her, I suggest you stop trying to find her. Death is the only possible conclusion to that search, young apprentice. Though I do wonder what petty intrigue made the Force swirl around her. But, no matter. Her fate is of no concern to me." Palpatine paused. His voice became oily smooth. "Of course, that needn't stop you from pursuing the one who seduced her."
Anakin squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, only to be tormented by the image of Padme and Obi-Wan locked in a tight embrace. He jumped to his feet and clenched his fists. "I have every intention of killing Kenobi for what he has done. I don't need to be goaded to it. Why are you so insistent he die at my hand?"
"He is the one remaining link to your past. If you truly wish to fulfill your destiny at my side, you must severe that link."
"It is severed."
"No. So long as Kenobi lives, there is the chance that your past will rise up to undermine all you have worked so hard to gain. When Kenobi dies, our power will be unmatched and our victory complete. I have forseen it."
Yoda's quiet voice whispered through Anakin's thoughts, 'Always in motion, is the future.' Anakin shunted aside the Jedi master's words and turned from the emperor's gloating face to stare into the Coruscant night. Lights trickled and flowed in a web of constant movement, streaking the darkness with an eerie neon glow. Far down a broad avenue, the abandoned Temple spires jutted upwards, silhouetted by the lines of light. What price would he pay to be free from his past? Completely free. Obi-Wan's visage filled his mind. No matter what Plo Koon had said, there had been a time when he would have followed Obi-Wan to the edges of the galaxy and beyond. He would have given anything ... But not Padme. Never Padme. Again, his mind pictured Kenobi holding and kissing his wife. That betrayal was a vibro-blade piercing his ribs. Again, anger began to build until his limbs trembled with it. With great effort, he stoked and banked the rising rage, wrapped his being in icy calm, then met his Sith master's gaze.
Palpatine's eyes glittered darkly.
Anakin dropped to one knee. "You shall have your victory, Master."
