Assassin (A Star Wars Fan-Fiction) Book 4

Chapter Five

He hadn't let go of Maris's hand since they left the classroom.

Anakin could feel Maris's fear; he didn't need to use the Force to know she was scared out of her mind. He knew as a Jedi Master that he should probably address her worries, probably start that wise speech on fear leading to the dark side that every other Jedi in the Temple somehow memorized. But she had every right to be scared. He didn't want to think about Obi-Wan committing to the dark side, but if a sith was haunting the youngling's dreams at night and threatening her in her sleep, he understood why she'd be so strongly unsettled.

He didn't want it to be Obi-Wan. Out of everyone he knew, Obi-Wan was the last person he'd ever thought would even waver from the light. The man had taught him so many things over the years, trained him and made him the great Jedi he was. Anakin owed everything to Obi-Wan, and now his mentor was terrorizing children in their sleep.

This was going to be messy.

"Listen, Maris," Anakin knelt down next to the youngling like he'd done before in the classroom so his eyes were level with hers. She was shaking like she'd been thrown into a pile of snow and her eyes were still wide as saucers. "I know you're frightened, and I know the Council is very intimidating when you stand in the middle of the room before them. But you need to be strong. We're going to keep you safe, I promise. But the braver you are in this situation, the more respect you'll gain from the people in that room. Do you understand?"

Maris slowly stopped her quivering, took a deep breath, and nodded. A surge of pride rushed through Anakin's heart at the sight of this little girl, putting on a brave face even though she was terrified. But that pride was followed by a stab of pain to his heart when he realized the reason he was so proud was because Maris reminded him of his former padawan. He cleared his throat, got to his feet, and let go of the youngling's hand.

"Alright, Maris. You've got this."

The doors slid open and the two stepped into the Council chamber.

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She was chained again.

Her wrists and ankles were chained to the bed she was laying in, and they were made of the same force-resistant material her cell had been made from. No matter how hard she yanked and pulled and concentrated on the Force to aid her in an escape, nothing happened. She was still there, in that bed, while her children remained in the custody of a back-stabbing monster. At least her head didn't hurt anymore.

Before she would've started screaming for someone to let her go, Denali looked around her room, which took on the appearance of a hospital room more than a jail cell. There was a wide window that took up most of the wall to her right, looking out into the cloning facility where millions of clones were forming in their bacta tanks. To the left was a door that stood next to a metal cabinet, and that was all. Just the bed, the window, door, and cabinet.

Denali opened her mouth to shout, but was cut short as something slowly wrapped around her throat. It didn't strangle her, its intentions weren't deadly. It wasn't a hand or a Force choke, it felt more like a snake slithering over her skin and up the side of her head, pushing her skull to the right. Pushing her to face the window again. 

Since this sudden presence didn't feel like a threat, more of a guide, she decided to obey and looked out the window once more at the cloning facility.

There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, there was nothing out of the ordinary that stood out to her. The bacta tanks were the same size and shape as always, the liquid inside was still blue, and she assumed the bodies resting inside were still clones of Jango Fett as they floated in the gooey substance. There was nothing wrong with this. 

But then the aura surrounding her mind, urging her to look, became more intense. More desperate.

Look harder...

Denali did with squinting eyes and a puzzled expression on her face. They were still clones, each one the same as the other. Each one from the same host. There were no differences between the bodies in the bacta tanks, except for maybe their minds. She didn't understand, what was so strange about the clones- She looked again. Blinked. Then looked once more just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. 

In every single tank was a man, yes. Every single man was a clone. But not a clone of Jango Fett. In an instant, as if they were robots that had suddenly been powered up, Denali felt the eyes of every single clone make their way to her window. For the first time in a long time, she felt fear sink into her heart once more.

Because the eyes of her brother had multiplied by thousands.

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Sorry for such a short update, but I haven't updated in a while and I felt that if I got a chapter out and the story flowing again, it would be easier for me to continue updating at a more regular pace. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

~Madness