Chapter Thirteen

If Anakin had felt that there was a veil between him and his surroundings before, he was now beginning to feel breaks in that veil.


There were moments of clarity, brief flashes, in which he knew he was seeing reality. During those moments he felt something deep within him, like a hook lodged in his heart, and he was glad to slip behind the veil again.


It was odd that he was able to achieve battle-mind, but he had. The movements were so ingrained in him that he leaped and twisted and ran without feeling the effort, much as he did when the Force was with him. He had taken down at least five security droids on STAPs, and maneuvered so that another two fired at each other. He still had three more STAPs to contend with, as well as the Vanqor guards on swoops. He was fighting as well as he ever had.


When Obi-Wan had been blasted into the crater, Anakin hadn't had more than a second to react. He assumed that his Master could handle whatever was down there. Obi-Wan could get out by himself.


Somewhere inside, Anakin knew this was a curious decision for him to make, one that he wouldn't have made normally. But it seemed logical, too.


Obi-Wan was a Jedi, used to getting out of tight spots.


Besides, Obi-Wan had always told him not to jump into things, to take his time. So why shouldn't he? His first priority was to take care of the droids and get the disk to Typha-Dor.


Anakin felt the veil slip again. It was happening more frequently now.


He missed his calm. He wanted to be back in the garden. He didn't want to feel fear, or apprehension, or pain. He wanted to feel serene, as though nothing could touch him. He wanted it so badly.


Gundarks in the crater suddenly roared. Anakin fended off blaster rifle fire and drew closer to the crater. He thought he heard Obi-Wan calling him. The call came from within him, as though he heard it in his heart.


Something tugged at him. The hook that was buried so deep that he could barely feel it. He did not want to reach for it. He wanted it to lay buried.


Obi-Wan needed him.


But I needed him. And when he came, he asked for the disk. He did not come for me.


The pain this thought caused him to grab the remains of the veil. He wanted to wrap himself into its brand of unconsciousness.


I don't want to feel anymore!


Anakin leaped up and severed a droid in two that had the misfortune to pilot his STAP too close to the ground. Hunks of smoking metal clattered to the rocks below.


He realized what was wrong, what the essential conflict within him was. To be a Jedi was to follow his feelings. But if his feelings tortured him, what was he to do with them?


Grief.


Guilt.


Resentment.


Shame.


He had felt all of these things. Because of leaving his mother, because of Yaddle, because of Obi-Wan. I don't want to feel!


He struck out savagely at a STAP that had come in low, its lone droid pilot firing dual blaster rifles. He cut the droid's head off.


"Anakin!" He could hear Obi-Wan clearly now, his voice strained and desperate.


I don't want to feel!


The hook in his heart seared him, and he knew its name. It was love.


The love he felt for his Master was lodged firmly within him. It was a connection that had grown from the first moment Obi-Wan had told him that he would take him and train him.


He had learned one thing about love: It was besides the point. It didn't make anything smoother, or better. Most of the time, it just complicated things.


Why would he want to feel again, when feeling hurt so much?


Why would he want to remember Shmi with guilt as well as pleasure?


Why would he want to revisit his torment over the death of Yaddle?


Why would he want to take up the burden of caring what Obi-Wan thought or felt about him?


Because it's right.


Anakin groaned aloud. The thing he couldn't get away from, the certainty within him, the essential truth he had learned through all his training at the Temple, that was what he could see now. He knew what was right.


He ripped the veil and felt the Force flood in with all its power. He realized that the Zone of Self-Containment had not allowed him to access the Force except at the most basic level, and he hadn't even known it. Now he felt it grow.


Along with the Force he felt his emotions again. They came at him in a rush, as if they'd been held back and now were free to overflow. They bombarded him as cruelly as the laser cannons shooting above. He wanted to sink to his knees from the tide washing over him, all the emotion he had suppressed and hoped never to feel again.


"Anakin!"


His Master's cry filled him.


He stood, drawing the fire of the droids and guards. He began to run.


Explosives shattered the rocks behind him. Two droids on STAPs dived, shooting both blaster rifles at him, trying to catch him between them.


Accessing the Force, he tumbled through the gap between them, allowing the power of the blast to catapult him in the direction of his Master's voice, straight into the dark pit of the gundark nest.

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