10 Chapter 10

A quiet groan left Anakin as he started to wake from his slumber.

The orphan currently rested on the small bottom bed of a bunk bed, in a small dark room with metallic walls that contained three other bunk beds.

Everything hurt.

Anakin's entire body ached with exhaustion and pain struck him with each beat of his heart. It felt like someone was driving a hammer to his head, so much so that he couldn't think. All he wanted was to go back to sleep and never wake up. Once again he let out a pained groan into his pillow as clenched his arms around it in frustration.

After lying on the soft, unusually comfortable bed in misery, Anakin decided to get started with his day. With his right arm, he pushed himself in sudden movement, only to fall back down in pain after smacking his head into the bunk bed above with a loud, "bang."

"Why me?" Anakin cried out as he rubbed his head with his hand in tandem with incessant pounding in his mind.

It took him a second later to realize that he didn't have a bunk bed in his room. Anakin's bright blue eyes snapped open with the thought; he couldn't see anything but darkness, but he knew without a doubt that he wasn't in his room. And as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he began to suspect he was on Tatooine anymore.

Frantically, his eyes searched around the room in fear. A hard lump in his throat formed as he started to hyperventilate. Anakin wasn't normally one to panic in any situation, but absence of any knowledge regarding his whereabouts or situation scared him more than anything on Tatooine.

As he desperately scoured his memory for information, the pounding in his head started to increase like the beat of his heart. Like suppressed lava erupting from a volcano, something broke with mind numbing pain, and the memories struggling to get out were released and he recalled everything; he wished he didn't.

Anakin could see it now: the loving smile on his mothers face as her form split into, the sensation of blood hitting his face, and the raw anguish and despair he felt as he ran to her fallen form. The way her warm, still body felt oddly light in his arms as he begged her to live, and the red puddle that stained the sand around them. A strangled cry left him as he remembered the way her blood soaked his hair and clothes, the way it clung to his face and hands and got in his eyes. The worst part was the smell; it choked him with that metallic smell, like he was being suffocated by a cloud of iron.

It felt like his entire body was on fire, like his skin was so sensitive the very air hurt him, as he sobbed into his arms while leaning against the cool metal wall. The image of his mother's dead body was seared into his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop seeing it. He just couldn't stop thinking about it.

It was as if a scorching hot knife was lodged into his head and the more he tried to get rid of it the hotter it got. Eventually, Anakin stopped trying to take the knife out and accepted his torment.

Anakin sat there on the bed, holding his head in his arms as he silently mourned the death of his mother. The little strength that was left in him was sapped out and it was all he could do to not collapse on the bed. He knew that if he fell, it would only be harder to get up, and he would find no refuge in rest with the thought of his mother's death burned onto his mind and heart.

There were few things Anakin loved: podracing, engineering, the Force. But it all paled in comparison to how much he loved Shmi. She was the only one in his life that loved him unconditionally, that was his constant pillar of support through all his troubles despite sinking under the waves of her own hardships. There was nothing his mother wouldn't do or tolerate for him, and he felt the same.

Anakin had no doubt that if Shmi had to choose between her life and Naboo; she would choose Naboo without a second hesitation. However, if she had to pick between him and the galaxy; she would choose him without regret. Somehow, Shmi was the most unselfish person in the galaxy when it came to herself and the most selfish when it came to him.

There was a reason for that: throughout all their troubles they always looked out for each other and devoted themselves to the others safety and wellbeing; it was how they survived as well as they did. His mother had to bear the brunt of the burden, and it was only made heavier by the trouble he caused, but he always did his best to take care of her. Whether that was by becoming a podracing pilot or training day and night to be an engineer.

Anakin would have just as soon died for her as she would for him.

The place inside him that once shined with his unceasing love and care for her was gone, replaced by a light consuming hole that rained forth tears of despair and ultimate sadness. Anakin willingly jumped into it, grieving for the loss of his mother.

Anakin hated the way that the person he loved most, that was his reprieve from life's torment, had become his greatest source of pain and suffering.

Time passed by unnoticed as Anakin mourned her death, by the time his tears dried and he found the will to finally get up and find out where he was, hours or days could have passed for all he knew or cared.

Just as Anakin gained the conviction to get up and stop being a pathetic mess, the room's door suddenly slid to the side revealing Qui-Gon along with an invading light.

With squinted eyes, Anakin studied Qui-Gon. The Jedi was wearing a long white shirt and brown pants with a lightsaber attached to his belt. In his hands was a platter of food and a glass of water. There was an obvious tiredness to him conveyed in Qui-Gon's weary but sympathetic eyes.

Anakin didn't know how he felt about Qui-Gon. The man knowingly came with him knowing the inherent risk he would bring which indirectly led to his mother's death, even if it was to save a planet. On the other hand, Qui-Gon was the person who gave him freedom, someone he trusted and respected, now he wasn't so sure. Not only that, but he suspected he'd been kidnapped for whatever reason, and his mother's corpse had been left on some random street in Mos Espa.

Seconds passed as the two stared at each other in silence.

The anger and betrayal Anakin felt must have been obvious, because there was a keen glint of understanding lined with regret and sorrow in Qui-Gon's eyes. Even as Anakin felt Qui-Gon's emotions using the Force, he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive the man.

"I'm so sorry, Anakin," Qui-Gon finally spoke, his voice toned with sadness and sincerity as he took a few hesitant steps forward.

"I know," Anakin said hoarsely, neither in forgiveness nor reproach.

Qui-Gon nodded in acceptance. He knew that Anakin most likely wouldn't forgive him, but he had hoped all the same. It would take years to rebuild the trust he had lost and make up for his part in her death, but he wouldn't give up on teaching the boy.

Sighing, Qui-Gon placed the food and drink on the bunk bed opposite to Anakin and sat down on it.

"Who did it?" Asked Anakin, thoughts of revenge on his mind as he leaned his head back on the cool metal wall.

All Anakin remembered after Shmi died was a red humanoid with ominous black markings, cloaked in black, with violent orange eyes and a crown of horns. After that, it was as if his memories were cut off from view from a wall of anger and hate.

After a moment of deliberation, Qui-Gon spoke: "I don't know the identity no species of Shmi's killer, only that it was a Sith."

"It's dead?" He asked, noticing Qui-Gon's use of the word, "was."

Qui-Gon hesitated a moment before speaking. "Yes, after you collapsed I was able to kill it."

Qui-Gon felt bad about lying, but he was worried that Anakin might develop misconceptions about the Dark Side's powers and use it to exact revenge.

If Anakin hadn't been so exhausted, and barely capable of conscious thought he would have easily recognized Qui-Gon's lie through the Force. 

Anakin didn't really think about how the death of his mother's murder would make him feel, but emptier was definitely not it. It felt like he had been deprived of his purpose, of his mission, but he did his best to ignore it.

"What's a Sith?" Anakin finally asked after contemplating the death of his mother's murder. If he couldn't kill his mother's killer, he figured he'd settle for what it cared most about.

Qui-Gon sighed. "The Sith are the ancient enemies of the Jedi Order. They are practitioners of the Dark Side of the Force bent on the suffering of others. Supposedly, they went extinct a thousand years ago, until today I suppose, I'll have to inform the Jedi Council when we reach Coruscant.

"Speaking of which, I want you to know that my offer for you to Join the Jedi Order still stands, if you want it," Qui-Gon stated apprehensively.

Anakin was already planning on joining the Jedi, to honor his mother, and to be the hero he so desperately wished for back on Tatooine, the Sith only reaffirmed his decision.

Anakin wanted revenge. And he would make sure he would get it. Even if he had to work and struggle everyday for the rest of his life, or become the strongest Jedi to ever live. He vowed to eradicate every single Sith off the face of the Galaxy, to make them regret ever letting the killer of his mother join their ranks.

Purpose kindled inside him like Tatooine's suns, bringing vengeful light back, somewhat filling the hole in his heart with illuminating retribution.

Qui-Gon was embarrassed to admit a chilling shiver ran down his spine as he watched Anakin's slouched, exhausted body sit up with newfound strength and his eyes burn with eternal determination.

Anakin's sheer raw potential would elevate him to amongst the most powerful Force-sensitives to ever live; Qui-Gon knew that. But now he readjusted his prediction. Qui-Gon could only imagine what Anakin would go on to accomplish, but he knew that it would reshape the galaxy itself and whether it was for good or bad it would leave him awed all the same to have witnessed it.

"I'll become a Jedi," Anakin said decisively, breaking the Jedi Master out of his revery.

Nodding, Qui-Gon got up and brought the platter of food and water, and set it down on Anakin's bed.

"In that case, I will see you in a few hours," The Jedi said as he started to leave. "Try and get some food and rest, I won't be going easy on you tomorrow."

Anakin snorted. "Don't worry; I can handle anything you throw at me, old man."

"That's Master Qui-Gon to you, Padawan." Qui-Gon said, amused yet strict, before exiting the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

Anakin closed his weary eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. A part of him genuinely hated and blamed Qui-Gon for his part in his mother's death and leaving her body lying on the street, but the rational side of him knew that Qui-Gon only harbored the best intentions for him and his mother, and that forces out of his control were behind the recent events. It scared Anakin to know that the angry hateful side was winning, eroding any positive thoughts he held towards the man. Anakin decided to do his best to endure and not act upon it, hoping it would diminish over time.

After spending some time organizing his thoughts and planning for the feature, the orphan ate the hearty meal in stifling darkness and sadness before succumbing to his exhaustion despite his still tortured mind.