The Brightest light casts the Darkest shaow

 In the vast darkness of night, only hints of loves light flickers.  It’s a continuous flow of hope, a beacon, calling the heart home.  The dark conceals this precious secret, one that defines the most sincere purities a love has ever known, for it is truly a gift.  The dark protects it from the poison that would cast judgment, cruelty, and ultimately breeding doubt and jealously.  Like a candles’ illuminating flame, love can be mesmerizing, leaving one blinded by wondrous beauty.  Or is this a perception based on an illusion? Should love trust the night and take comfort in its embrace, or is that the illusion? Has it deceived us by its so called protection? Love, like a flame is alive and it breathes. If you betray it, hold it in contempt, it suffocates and all that’s left is the dark….

As twilight engulfs its cloak of concealment upon the lavish Ambassadorial Sector of the Galactic City’s Senate District, a lone robed figure welcomes its generosity. Anakin, like the night is patient. He bides his time, waiting for the last drip of light to seep into darkness, as his presence drifts off into the sea of shadows.  

Below him is a mountainous structure, a marvel of its time. Even for the sheer spectacle that is Coruscant, 500 Republica is its crowning jewel. Only the most prestigious of the privileged classes take residency here, but only one particular prestige is of any significance to him.  The penthouse suite of the Senate Apartment Complex incases his brightest light, the center for his sole existence, his beloved wife; Senator Amidala.

Taking full advantage of the dusk, Anakin takes shelter within it, absorbing the murky clad as if collaborating to merge together; becoming a single entity. Perched on the expansive veranda, he secretly takes in the activity flowing from the central living quarters of the chamber. 

Closing his eyes, Anakin allows the force to flood his senses, filling him entirely. Allowing his force sight to envelop the room, he feels the presence of three women, including Padme, and two men. Pulling himself further, deeper into the force, Anakin concludes that their conversations consist primarily of political nature. Possibly, surrounding a new bill or action that had been motioned earlier that day and leaving all in company engrossed in a debate that seemed to be nearing a “temporary” closure. 

The clinking of glasses and the soft brushes of shoes against the carpet was a sure sign the party had moved to the lobby, nearing the private turbolift.  An anxiety began to kindle inside the pit of Anakin’s stomach, like a gurgling lava pool on the fiery planet of Mustafar. He had been away for what seemed to be an eternity, yet only five standard months had passed.

In that time, a lot had changed; "But you can't stop the change, Ani, any more than you can stop the suns from setting." Shmi had always been his loving light, the brightest one in the galaxy. Force, how he missed her!  Thankfully the force was generous enough, bestowing two bright suns in his world; force knows he wasn’t worthy. 

Tonight he wanted to change all that and prove his worth by showering his love with tokens of his affections.  If only a Jedi had access to proper wrappings for such sentiments as his padawan braid and the ring he constructed of loose parts from 3PO; then his presentation of adoration would be perfect. 

Suddenly, the reverberations from the private turbolift amplified, sending tremors through the permacrete of the veranda.  Anakin awoke from his pacing ponderings and was once again consumed by the overwhelming sensation of restlessness.

The anticipation of seeing her flawless face, to touch her delicate hands, and the ability to just wrap her up in his embrace was intoxicating. Drunk on this excitement, he began to make his way into the apartment until a rush of unfamiliar presence imbued his senses.

 Jolted in his stance and shrouded by the shadows of night, he heard her songs of laughter billowing out into the vast darkness. Who, other than himself, could possibly make her laugh like that? More importantly, WHO was this person alone with his wife? This unexpected hindrance was prolonging the moments he so eagerly yearned for, along with months of planning and now ultimately, challenging his patience.  

“If all bodes well, the votes could successfully sway in our favor. Of course, we have to secure as much sovereignty in the Senate as we can, or we will lose their faith in the Republic altogether.” 

Senator Amidala warily expressed her concerns over the daily political dealings as she sipped her glass of Blossom wine. Accompanying her on the voluminous veranda was the tall, dark, and handsome Senator of Corellia; Senator Spince.  Corellia was well noted for being the most peaceful in its sector, allowing safe travels to the Double Worlds of Talus and Tralus, also permitting harmonious trade between freighters and civilians alike. 

“Absolutely, I’m hopeful that we’ll be able to ensure the majority of ballots necessary to proceed with our campaigning. Especially if you’re the one delivering the message, I for one, would be easily….persuaded by your influence.”  

There was a hint of flirtation in the charming Senators’ response as he permitted his stare to linger in Padme’s direction. This arrogant notion only made the plight more awkward.  Leaning forward, Spince lifted his left arm over her head, placing his hand firmly on an exquisite, Nubian sculpture for support. The body language was obvious, a bit too frank for, Padme’s liking as she shifted uncomfortably in her tight quarters, or what was left of her own personal space.

Trying her best to divert further advances, Padme peered out from the vast opening of the veranda and gazed into the bustling illumination of Coruscants nightly skyline. As she allowed her sights to gaze into the glistening streaks that danced amongst the darkness, something seemed a tad amiss, as if the shadows were glaring back at her. Every hair on the back of her neck was virtually standing on end. This feeling of being watched was all too familiar, as if eyes were boring deep into her soul, leaving her to feel utterly exposed. No one has ever made her feel so vulnerable, so naked, except…..Anakin.

The darkness is everywhere. It feeds on the sea of shadows, allowing its merciless clutches to consume every last trickle of light it finds in its path. The dark is the protector of secrets, its actions are pitiless, with purity of purpose, but in the end, it is always….victorious. 

He appears to almost saunter towards them, as if entranced by something mystical, possessing his every movement. It is then, at that precise moment, time appears to come at a standstill. For a snip of an instant, as their eyes meet, the shroud of darkness seems to dissipate. Awakening a dormant secret, it breathes once more, igniting the flame back to life. Merely seconds pass and the light is doused as if it were just a figment of someone else’s imaginations or dreams. Anakin’s hypnotic gaze is now replaced with a distant coldness, encased with rage. His body overflows uncontrollably with such raw emotion, releasing tremors through the force and sending waves of vibrations about the apartment. 

“Get away from her….now.” 

Senator Spince cocked his head and challenged, Anakin’s stare. Almost amused by this odd demeanor, especially coming from a pubescent Jedi, he played on what he assumed was a bluff. 

“You’re trespassing, young one. You best be on your way or I shall be forced to notify security of your intrusion.”

“Do not underestimate me, Senator. “

“Are you mad, young one? Threatening me, a Senator in the Galactic Senate? Now be on your way, before you miss curfew at your precious Temple.” Those were the last words, Padme heard from Senator Spince that night. The proceeding moments were a quick haze as she became completely paralyzed from shock and…..fear.  

“I find your lack of respect disturbing.” Stretching out with his left hand, Anakin called upon the force and silenced the arrogant politician.

Padme’s breathing became a furious pant for air as she desperately tried to make sense of what was transpiring before her eyes.  Dazed, muddled, and painstakingly petrified, she knew she had no choice, but to regain control over the situation at hand.  Everything had gone absolutely wrong, her world was spinning out of control, and yet she felt as if it was all just a phantasm of her own imagination.

Dangling in mid air, Spince levitates at least two feet off the ground as he grapples at his throat, fighting for his life. As he struggles to breathe, he gasps feverishly for air, thrashing his fingers against a ghostly grasp that tightens its grip with every squirm.  Watching his bronzed skin change to hues of purple was more than she could stand, on the contrary, his pompous antics are what put him in this predicament to begin with. Padme shunned the thought almost as quickly as she conceived it; she wouldn’t condone such treatment to go on any longer.

“Release him, Anakin!” Fear gurgled in her throat as she groaned her plea, “not again, please. You’re a good person, Ani and you promised me……you promised you’d never do it again….What you did to the Sand People”… Within seconds of self contemplation, Anakin glanced her way, as if he had heard every word.  His trance now transfixed on her reaction, he saw the anguish he was causing her and instantly let go of his force grip on the wheezing, Senator.  Spince dropped to the cold, stoned permacrete floor, smacking the side of his jaw on the magnificent fountain that centers the lavish veranda.

At that precise moment, Padme’s wine glass fell, shattering into a million, tiny, shards of crystal that seemed to twinkle against the moonlight. Gazing at the shimmering bits that splay before her, Padme is so captivated by their glittering brilliance she is somewhat, displaced. Distracted, blinded by her emotions, she is completely oblivious to all other happenings in the room; including the winded, Senator Spince.

Gathering himself together, Spince clings to the rim of the bubbling fountain. Trying to regain his composure, he gags frantically in a sporadic, coughing spell. Wiping the blood stain from his mouth, he cautiously monitors the dark umbrage standing before him.  Sizing him up, this rogue Jedi seems to tower over him, emulating immense intimidation that sends a shrill of disturbing fear down his spine.

Spince really couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that this particular Jedi was somewhat amused by his ability to inflict fear onto others. In fact, fear seemed to actually fuel his strength, urging him to execute the endeavor without any sign of repentance.  With that notion in mind, Spince scrambles to his feet and dashes for the turbolift.
 
Alone at last, Anakin turns his attention to the exquisite beauty before him. She pays him no mind as her focus remains on the shattered shards of glass that scatter about her feet.  His eyes devour the vision she so graciously displayed just for him. Her chocolate brown mane was fastened tightly on top of her head, allowing the curls to cascade down her naked back.

The two piece frock was a lavishly designed evening gown, primarily made from a velvety material and dyed to a dulcet plum purple. The entire middle of the dress that would normally conceal the abdomen was missing, revealing her flat, yet soft ivory skin of her tummy. 

If that wasn’t enough to drive any man mad with temptation, the lower half of this ensemble invoked an animalistic nature, untamed and forfeited any, or possibly all self restraint.  The plush garment hugged her sumptuous curves perfectly.  Adding a sultry elegance with an elongated slit up the right side of the skirt, revealing her entire leg, showcasing her sensuous hip and causing , Anakin to go weak at the knees.
Moving towards her now, he is overcome by such an intense feeling of longing that his whole body aches with overdue anticipation. 

As he reaches for her, their eyes lock and Anakin immediately senses her afflictions.  Overwhelmed by this unexpected renunciation to his affections, he evades giving up and instantly takes her into his arms.

Enveloping her in his embrace, he welcomes the fused fragrance of fresh Naboo blossoms and aqueous torrents that is the sheer essence of Padme. Nuzzling his face in her silken ringlets, succumbing himself completely to her bidding, a tremble in the force shakes him from his contentment. As realization sets in, Anakin feels her apprehensions as they flutter through her entire body, evoking the pains of frustrations once more.
 
Pulling away slightly, Padme sighs in disappointment over all that transpired just moments ago.  Her eyes heavy with dispiritedness and swelling with tears, was a bit more than he could stand.  Removing himself from their brief wink of intimacy, Anakin turns his back on her and shamefully nods his head, admitting his omission.

Walking in the vicinity of the charming fountain that graced the center of Padme’s veranda, he could still feel her qualms, chilling her to poise in her typical, political visage. Nothing infuriated him more than her unwillingness to bend from rationality, that and a cocky diplomat thinking he had the right to defile what already belonged to another.

The rage was rising inside the pit of his stomach, flaring the embers that were just ‘bout spent, releasing the dark whispers to seduce him against his will and stray from the light. The very same voice that coaxed him through the fierce fury he demonstrated on Tatooine, began to stir once more.

This slithering hiss of a divulgence, effortlessly enticed Anakin to force choke the seditious, Senator Spince, who just barely escaped with his life. As its bewitching drone filled his mind with devious suspicions, Anakin’s conflictions of perception were hazed, clouding his judgment. Even the brightest light casts the darkest shadow, just like the stars ablaze in the night sky, eventually….even they burn out.

The crackling of broken glass woke him from his mesmeric state, bringing him face to face with, Padme. She was attempting to make her way across the room, but something stopped her, she froze in place. His electric blue eyes glared back at her, glowering into her soul, and scrutinizing her every step.

Swallowing hard, Anakin pushed the dark whispers down deep, drowning out their seductive hum.  Looking at her anew, his aggressions transposed from a raging fire to a ravenous arousal. He was ready to surrender, not so much as to her, but to his uncontrollable desires.

Padme felt hunted, his stare was every bit territorial, claiming her with each breath she took. She studied him in return. His hair was longer, the sandy blond waves now reaching his shoulders. His entire build was broader, chiseled by the war; along with his towering height, almost imperial in comparison of how she remembered him.  

Time and battle had forged a man she didn’t quite recognize, both in appearance and disposition. Searching for a shred of familiarity and desperately hoping to find it, she forced herself to question his prior behavior.
“Why did you do this, Anakin?”

Completely fixated on her, the way a predator would peer at his prey, he made his move and pounced with Jedi agility in her direction. Only mere inches separating them, he places his face directly in front of hers, allowing his warm, sweet breath to engulf her senses. As soon as he sees a hint of alarm in her doe-like eyes, he pushes the limits by pressing his ample chest to her body.
“I didn’t like it…..him….with you.”

“Anakin, he could’ve died.”

An infamous, sly smile caressed his lips as he pondered her words.  Achieving the reaction he was aiming for, he decided it was time to close this conversation and move on to more important things; namely, relinquishing  the five long months of abstinence. 

“I. Didn’t. Like. It.”

His words were more of a husky potent remark than an answer.  Padme’s mouth gaped in awe as she faltered to his assertiveness.  Anakin voraciously kissed those perfectly pouted lips, demanding full acceptance in return. Padme mewled breathlessly beneath the pressure of his passionate kiss. Exciting him more with every sound, he planted his hands firmly on her backside, releasing a very hungry, carnal groan of his own.

Whimpering in protest, she tried to turn her face away from the forceful barrage of osculation.  Anakin wouldn’t have it, he grasped her chin firmly with his natural hand, threading the mechanical one through her coiled hair tightly; possessing her without her permission. Craning her head back, Anakin crashed his mouth down on top of hers, greedily taking what he wanted again and again.

She wanted to scream, realizing she was entirely out of her element, but did not want him to stop. Terrified, at who he had become, yet at the same time craving for his ownership; desperately wanting for him to consume her entire body with his own. How incredibly naïve she had been, since the beginning….  “I won’t give in to this…..We’d be living a lie….. I couldn’t live like that. Could you Anakin, could you live like that?” She had been a fool, to ever think she could stop this from happening, then and even now.   Admitting defeat, Padme relaxes her body, allowing Anakin to triumph and conquer his prize.

Sensing her submission, he deepened the kiss with immense urgency. His lips were more insistent this time, using his tongue he forcibly parted her lips and slipped inside, sending waves of pleasurable heat throughout her body. Intoxicated by his passionate inflictions, her mind and body were no longer her own to control.  At the mercy of his seductive ministrations, she was a helpless victim to his hypnotizing cadence of wet, sweet licks and suckling that flourished her naked neck with every intention to mark. He continued to trace her delicate skin with his tongue, nipping tenderly in intricate patterns, causing those tender areas to pucker and bruise; staking his claim.

Anakin nestled his face against hers with a swelling hunger, his warm, dewy breath brushed her ear and then his delicious tongue feverishly followed. Kneading the soft lobe between his teeth and stroking its curves with his tongue, Padme trembled against him. With a throaty groan Anakin slipped his hands under her thighs and hoisted her up, pressing her firmly to his body.

Scanning the room, Anakin searches for the nearest furnishings that will provide him with sufficient leverage and some comfort for Padme. Within seconds he spotted the extravagant dining table, still adorned with five ornate place settings. {It’ll do.} Adjusting her weight to not lose support, he motioned his free hand in the direction of their destination. Every piece of the custom china fell to the floor, clearing it completely. 

Setting her down on the table’s edge, Anakin swiftly nudges her knees aside and settles between her thighs. “Take down your hair.” His emphasis was rugged and hoarse.

Anakin stared with such hunger, electric blue hues darkening as each pin was pulled, freeing tendril after tendril. His cobalt, blue eyes, gazed intently as she obeyed his command. As the last curl tumbled to her shoulder and cascaded down her back, Anakin moaned in satisfaction. Collecting the loose ringlets in his hands he pulls her face toward his before leaning back in, grinding his robustness against her, igniting an inner fire to burn wildly. Padme was melting like a wampa cave on Tatooine, leaving her spellbound and completely breathless.

Hard lips seized hers, swallowing her soft sighs as he pulled Padme even closer. Anakin was consumed with the desire to dominate and possess her, instilling a need of her own to possess and be possessed.

“If you are suffering as much as I am, please tell me.” Gasping under deep kisses, Padme realized he spoke those words to her mind and not aloud. Answering him back with feverish endearment, he bellowed a throaty groan as his lips rasped sensuously against hers.

He mauled impatiently at the plush fabric that concealed her supple flesh. Stripping the cloth from her body, Anakin’s eyes gazed delightfully at his exposed obsession. His hands and lips began to caress her soft skin, furiously awakening a white heat that her body craved and unruly demanded. One hand paused from its erotic enticement to tear anxiously at the garments that covered his taut body.  Seconds later the offending articles of clothing fell to the floor; only the robe was kept to cradle Padme’s backside from the hardness of the tabletop.

Flaming blue eyes flickered wildly; hands slid to grip her hips.  Anakin whispered her name through hissing gasps as he started to move. Using the tables’ edge for support, he thrusts forward with wild wantonness, encasing him deeply within her fervid body.

Anakin, overcome with lust, love, and obsession takes possession of her mouth in a feverous kiss. He plunges his insistent tongue inside to entwine with hers in a coarse caress, devouring Padme with rapacious hunger. The flickering flames of desire swelled in the pit of her stomach, like a volcano ready to spill over its peak, she was at the brink of her own eruption.

His erotic rhythms careened her on the edge of a delicious nirvana that her body and mind were crying out for. Nothing mattered but the delectable friction and heat that spawned between them. Pleasure infused with an intense need for release, Anakin held her on a blissful balance between an aching agony and sheer ecstasy. Overwrought and almost mad with pure need, Padme’s head slumped back and her pants came in short, harsh spurts.

Bursts of exquisite pain pummeled through her as Anakin relentlessly penetrated her body. As her muscles begin to clench against his hardened heftiness, a primal growl of gratification fills her ears.

“Look at me, Padme, I want to watch you.” He commanded in a raspy voice.

With his controlling demeanor, yet seductive emphasis he sets her free. The volcano erupts and hot, delectable tides thrash over her body. The mewling cries that poured from her swollen lips escalated to wails as the blazing vibrations of pleasure rolled out in endlessly expanding surges from her core. He gazes at her with adoration, awe and lingered lust as she writhers against him. 

As the last of the pulsating ripples that wretch her body start to dwindle, he cries out and quickens his momentum. Tipping their bodies to descend further; he drives deeper, blemishing Padme’s thighs as her insides gush with liquid heat. Anakin cranes his head back as he shouts her name, pinning her to the table, skin grating skin as he chases his own release.

Collapsing with exhaustion, Anakin scoops her up into his arms allowing her body to drape over him as he rolls on to his back. Smoothing the loose locks from her face, he pampers her in warm, gentle kisses. Stroking her hair, Anakin murmurs his undying love and affections softly against her ear. 

As the cool night air brushes against their damp, slicked skin, Padme hugs her arms tightly around herself, soothing the goose bumps that envelop her naked body.  Anakin tries to ward off the coldness by swaddling her with his Jedi robe and sheathing his lap with the remainder of the pooling fabric.

Massaging her arms with his hands, Anakin wraps his lengthy, lithe legs around her lean frame as she sits crossed legged in front of him. Regarding her with his bold, beryl-blue eyes in a mesmeric gaze, he soaks up every detail, element, and component that makes up her very existence. Studying her intensely, with every intention to burn an everlasting memorization of this exact moment, he tucks it away for his much needed personal contentment.

While storing one memory, Anakin quickly remembers another, his endowments of devotion.  Rummaging through the pockets of the garb that covers their nakedness, he comes across the hidden treasures he had stowed away for safe keeping. Laying them upon her lap, he bestows the gifts before her with a brilliant gleam in his piercing blue eyes.

Nodding his head in assurance, he nudges Padme’s hands, urging her to accept and open the unadorned parcels that stare up from her lap. A bit bewildered by curiosity, Padme can’t contain her excitement and blurts out in inquisitive lightheartedness.

"Anakin?”

“Go on, Padme, open them.”  His eyes were bright with puerile enthusiasm, reminding Padme of “the little boy she once knew on Tatooine.”  The very same innocence that beamed from those ultramarine, blue lagoons some ten years ago, pooled to the surface; bringing her back to the fearful little boy who so blatantly missed his mother. Shamelessly, demanding for acceptance, someone to nurture and care during his maturation with an unconditional love or compassion; Padme.

Clumsy fingers tugged at the flimsy wrappings, bearing the precious presents that she now held in her hands. The silky braid of sandy blond tresses, entwined with the brightly polished and intricately carved eternity band, as if to conceal a secret. Tears of joy and adoration pool her dark, ebony eyes as she holds onto love’s precious gifts; the most sincere purities a love has ever known.

“Oh, Ani, they’re beautiful.”

“These are pieces of me and … well, some of 3PO too. Pieces of my heart and it’s all for you, always for you, Padme. So you’ll remember me, us, our …family.” 

“Anakin, I told you, I don’t need things to remember you by.”

“Padme, I have nothing left of my….Mother. Not one thing that belonged to her. All I have left of her are...well, images really….feelings.” 

Love, like a flame is alive and it breathes. If you betray it, hold it in contempt, it suffocates and all that’s left is the dark….

Yet there is an ember of hope, forthcoming; it promises good fortune. A legacy will be revealed, redeeming the son of suns to the light. Uniting a galaxy and illuminating the force to balance.

 

 

"Clouded, this boy's future is. Masked by his youth."

As the mist of twilight encases the glorious capital of the Galactic Republic, the sleekness of the spires from the Jedi Temple peek through the darkness like a beacon of hope. The tallest tower, the Jedi Council Chamber, seemed almost endless in Coruscant's night sky, as if it were climbing past it's atmosphere and beyond any scale of infinitude. Much like this remarkable Coruscanti landmark, the war itself was lacking limits and time as the galaxy had known it; had come to an indefinite stand-still.

Beyond the luminous glow of Coruscant's beautiful skyline was a growing murkiness giving off an erroneous sensation of despair. The perception of a "Shroud of Darkness" had become more than just a mere glance of insight, for it was felt by those who were gifted in the ways of the Force. Of course, some more than others. For some, it was no more than a twang of a vibration. For others, it was as if the air had become so viscid that it could be sliced with ones' saber. And so it was, for a particular young Jedi, one who had once described the Naboo swampland air as "thick with damp," like breathing thick soup, a cold soup. Only this time Anakin wasn't trying to adjust his body to the cool Coruscanti temperatures. It was an all-together different kind of coldness.

"When you learn to quiet your mind, you will hear them."

As Anakin tried to do just that, he couldn't shake away the uncanny similarity of this chilling sensation. For he felt this way before, only oddly enough, it was becoming far more frequent and in familiar surroundings. In fact, it was quite unsettling for Anakin Skywalker. Again he drifted off to early times, before his so called training.
"Always Remember, Your focus determines your Reality."

If only Qui-Gon Jinn was still a Jedi Master, even so, alive. Anakin ran his fingers through his ragged, sandy blonde hair as he stood outside the Council's chamber. He winced quietly to himself after examining his hands as he crossed them over his broadening chest. A few strands of wavy blonde curls were tangled between the mechanical knuckles of his fingers, reminding him of how badly overdue he was for a trim. Being away at war left little to no time for personal grooming and one's appearance became just as rugged as the battles themselves.

As minor mental notes, such as hygiene, began to fade from Anakin's mind another nag took hold of his thoughts, gaining his full attention. A powerful new Dark Force, by the name of Asajj Ventress had become a haunting memory as of late. Sleep had never come easily for Anakin, restless and tormented by unexplained visions which had washed over him ever since he could remember. Now he fought with another nightmare, only this one was a reality that repeatedly intruded upon his slumber.

Her strength baffled him, especially her knoweledge in the ways of the Force. It was as if he had met his match, not so much in battle as opponents, but in their hunger for something more...more powerful. The very thought of this similarity, a shared desire, a yearning for limitless resistance, sent a frigid sensation through Anakin's veins; fear.

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate...leads to suffering."

Shaking his head in frustration, taking the palms of his hands Anakin rubbed his tired eyes as if the simple motion could rid him of his feelings. Calling upon the Force, Anakin breathed deeply trying to cleanse the darkness that had crept inside his fatigued mind. Releasing his anxieties as he exhaled, focusing on the positive and purging the negative he found his center, a focal point, an object of peace, his true desire; Padme`. Opening his eyes, he regained normal respiratory rhythm and a calmness soothed his consciousness. A sly smirk was revealed on his viscous lips as he reveled in intimate memories of secluded rendezvous with the beautiful Senator Amidala; his wife. Lost in blissful reminiscence, Anakin fumbled with a trinket tucked safely away in the pocket of his utility belt. As he placed the small bump around his flesh fingertips the smirk that graced this hero's face grew into a full blown smile of pride. In his brief, basking moment of joy, life had it's way of dulling the mood with interruptions of reality.
"Anakin, the council is ready to see you now."

Turning his head, Anakin saw his Master, Obi-wan peering from around the corner of the chamber door. He nodded in response and made his way down the hall. As he crossed the threshold he secured the object deep down in the dark, secret pouch. Before clearing his mind to face his Masters, he patted the tiny lump in his belt..."It's not the stars like I promised, just pieces of scrap metal from 3PO...pieces of my heart."