Who: Anakin Skywalker and Jaina Solo What: Anakin asks his graddaughter for a favor. When: The afternoon following his talk with Padmé. Where: The woods just outside of the city. Rating: PG (swearing, mentions of violence) Status: COMPLETE
It was a beautiful spring day in Los Angeles. The sun was shining brightly overhead, the sky was the clearest color of blue that anyone could imagine, and the clouds were fluffy and as white as pure fallen snow. The city was bustling with energy, people out and about, enjoying the weather and the brief respite in all things dark and dangerous. It seemed as if things were finally starting to fall into place and that maybe, just maybe, the worst was behind them.
"Oh, Sithspit."
The curse was muffled but carried across the peaceful meadow nonetheless. A few birds who were nestled in the nearby trees gave hoots and squawks at the disturbance, a few taking to flight as a loud clang followed.
"Oh, flying piles of bantha poodoo!" This time the curse was a little more pronounced, as was the unmistakable sound of metal crashing against metal. The remaining birds took to flight in a rustle of wings and chirps. Jaina peered up at them from her spot beneath her StealthX with a glare on her face. "The same goes for you vhlors, too!" she all but growled before tossing down her tool and turning her angry look toward the gravitic modulator.
"You're lucky we're light-years from a docking bay, or I'd have you overhauled so fast your sensor negators would spin," she threatened before once more snatching up her tool and returning to her work. She was so busy with her self-assigned task that she failed to notice she wasn't alone. A fact which would be made abundantly clear to anyone, as the next words out of her mouth were hardly ones that were considered proper or polite.
"You two-toed, swamp-sucking, slagchucker!"
Anakin had approached slowly, drawn by her presence until he'd seen the ship. At the sight of it, the box he carried was tucked under his arm while he slowly circled the craft. The ship was smaller than the classic X-Wings the Rebels had used, and the material was black, with irregular angles that Anakin understood the meaning of immediately. Stealth. The black color to hide against the darkness of space, the angles to deflect sensors.
Hearing some impressive swearing, he moved around the vessel again, finding a pair of legs emerging from underneath. He hesitated for a moment, then moved the box back into both hands, holding it carefully.
"Do you need some assistance? I'm... quite good with machines."
At the sound of the voice, Jaina immediately went still. Then, in a move that was a veritable blur, she was on her feet and her lightsaber in her hand (and just the one that was still hers) – and ignited – within nanoseconds. Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at the man who had cut off her hand, uncaring about the dirt and grime that were splattered across parts of her face, neck, and arms. It all came with the territory of being a mechanic.
Which, she knew, he was one as well. A great one, in fact, if the history books were to be believed. That didn’t mean she was going to let him near her ship, though. Not as long as she was still breathing.
"What in the name of crushing black holes do you think?" she questioned in a hardened tone. Taking note that his hands were full, and not with a lightsaber, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Decided to blow me up with a bomb-filled package since your last attempt to kill me didn't go so well?" she asked coolly. Obviously she knew that wasn't the case, but the fact of the matter was that his presence had startled her. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't even sensed him coming closer.
Smart one, Solo. Keep this up and you'll be dead in no time, she mentally chastised herself.
"If I was going to do that," he answered, his eyes moving from hers, to the weapon she held in her hand, "I would not bring it myself."
He moved slowly, carefully, bending and setting the box upon the ground, and then stepping back, keeping his hands visible and outside of the folds of his robe.
"For you." He offered no more words. The gift was his apology, if she were willing to accept it. He would not ask forgiveness. He had no right to ask. But Anakin hoped that she might be able to help him. If she would not, he had no one else to turn to.
Okay. He had a good point; she had to give him that. However, that didn't mean she was going to just forget about their last encounter. She may be hot-headed at times, she might even be reckless, but she wasn't stupid. He had bested her once before. She wasn't going to let it happen again.
Still, he'd yet to draw his lightsaber. In fact, she wasn't even sensing half of the darkness in him that she had before. It was because of this that she finally decided to put her own lightsaber away, using the Force to send it back to the belt loop on her hip.
Her attention flickered briefly to the package, then went back to the man in front of her. The last time he'd sent her a box, it had been her lightsaber. Her curiosity piqued as she tried to guess – and failed miserably – as to the contents of the package. Eventually she gave a soft sigh of resignation and moved toward it.
Taking note of how delicately he'd handled it, she lowered herself on one knee to the ground to open it rather than using the Force to bring it to her. As she raised the lid, her eyes grew impossibly wide and an almost wistful look crossed her features. Jaina slowly looked back to Anakin, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"What game are you playing at?" she asked quietly, the hostility gone from her tone though suspicion still remained. "First you send me my lightsaber, now a new hand. Why?" She made no move to pull the gift from the box. Not until she'd gotten some answers first.
"You need one for the other," he said evenly. "There was no reason to return your weapon to you if I could not ensure you would be able to wield it properly."
He flexed his own cybernetic hand. "It was modeled after my own, but with some adjustment by... one whose understanding of mechanics is, I must admit, superior to my own. The prosthetic will be capable of all the things your wrist and hand were. With sufficient practice, you may even be able to channel the Force through it."
The modifications Gabriel had suggested were altogether ingenious. His own arm was operating far more smoothly, and with greater speed. No strength had been lost, either. And Jaina's replacement hand was copied from his, though proportioned to her height specifications. Even the synthetic skin covering was a match to her skin tone. It was an option Anakin had turned down - though he kept it gloved, he preferred the synthetic as a reminder of what he had once been.
Jaina stared at him for a minute. Stared as though he'd sprouted an extra head and begun dancing across the meadow. In a dry tone, she finally stated, "You cannot possibly take things that literally. No one takes things that literally. Not even Threepio."
With a shake of her head, she glanced back to the hand. Reaching out with her flesh hand she pulled it out of the box and studied it closely. It really did look quite amazing and part of her wanted nothing more than to try it on. But she didn't. Instead she cradled the prosthetic in her lap and glanced back up at her grandfather.
"Let's try this again," she said. "Why are you helping me? What's in it for you?" A brief pause and she added, "And don't feed me any poodoo about how you're doing it out of the kindness of your Dark Sided heart, either. I may be young but my parents didn't raise me to be a fool."
"He would," the young-bodied man before her said, with a light smirk. "But I programmed him to detect sarcasm. It seemed only fair."
He let out a sigh, however, at her continued inquiry. "Jaina, I... I've never been much good at apology. When I was younger, I was arrogant and headstrong. As Vader... Sith do not make apologies. But making things... putting them together, making them function. I've always been good at it. There's no way I can ever replace your genuine hand. But I wanted to at least attempt to make up for the loss."
On the other side of that penumbric line, Darth Vader was rolling his eyes. Behind the veil of years, an unscarred and whole Anakin Skywalker was scowling at the very thought. But the Anakin who stood here, right now, was separate from both of those others. Here and now, Anakin was fighting for his path, for a way back to the light.
"I... wanted to say... I'm sorry."
Well, now there was something Jaina hadn't expected. It was so shocking, in fact, that for a minute she was actually speechless. Well, I guess wonders really never do cease, was the only thought that flickered through her shell-shocked mind. Opening her mouth, she tried to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words.
Knowing she did need to speak, the girl finally latched on to the only thing that she could think of, the only thing that didn't make a big deal out of what he'd just said. "I didn't know you were the one who built Threepio."
In the grand schemed of things, it seemed like a ridiculous thing to say. But considering the fact that the droid had essentially kept both her, and her brothers, from getting themselves killed in some way or another during their youth, she cared for him. Realizing that he'd been built by her grandfather only seemed to bring it all around full circle, in some strange sort of way she didn't want to really dwell on at the moment.
Another heavy sigh and she returned her attention to the hand. Slowly, carefully, she put it back down and moved her fingers to the basic hand that now covered the stub where her real one had once been. The latched undid themselves by use of the Force and she pulled it away, setting it down. A few moments later she had her new hand securely in place and balled her hand into a fist several times, getting a feel for it. It was impressive, she had to admit. No one would even be aware the hand was a fake unless they knew specifically what to look for. Which, aside from her own family, no one on this planet did.
Looking back to the man in front of her, her lips turned upward into a partial smile as she said softly, "Thank you." A brief pause as her smile turned into the trademark Solo smirk as she tacked on, "Now why don't you get to the part where you ask for my help for whatever it is you need help with." Because Jaina knew, her grandfather or not, Anakin wouldn't be acting this generous unless he needed something. That just wasn't the way her family worked. They helped each other out, of course they did, but going so far as to apologize and offer the hand, and doing it all by seeking her out? Her gut said he needed something, and she always trusted her gut.
Anakin nodded. "When I was a boy on Tatooine. I built him for my mother, to assist her. I left the planet with Qui-Gon Jinn with I was nine, and was unable to give him an exterior shell. But when I returned..." His voice faltered slightly. The memories of Shmee's death were still unpleasant, as well as the slaughter he had wrecked upon the Tuskens. "It was some years later. He was with the Owens family. They had covered him in gold, and he came with me when I left again."
Threepio had always been a loyal and faithful companion. He and Artoo had bonded almost immediately. He remembered the rage at realizing these were the two droids that had escaped the Tantive IV with the Death Star plans. Rage... and a faint, faint swell of pride in his creation and former friend. Knowing that the droids were still in the family care was a point of pride and relief. Threepio, at least, was still doing the task he had been created for; aiding his family.
He watched, a smile lingering on his lips, as she pulled on the new hand and tested it. But at her question, his expression returned to something more serious and stoic. "Your instinct serves you well. I do require your aid."
Anakin shut his eyes, breathing deeply and gathering his strength. It wasn't easy to ask. But he'd promised Padmé. He would do everything in his power to end this bitter conflict within him.
"I am Anakin Skywalker," he said, his voice strong, the words clear. "Jedi Knight of the Old Republic. And I should like to remain so." He opened his eyes, looking upon her. "Will you help me, Jaina Solo, to cast off the taint of the Sith?"
Her jaw dropped when he said he'd built Threepio as a child but, before she could even really react to that fact, he was getting to the real reason for his visit. When he finally stated what that was, she felt her stomach give a sharp drop and it took everything within her not to let her jaw follow suit.
"Me?" she questioned finally, in a faint sounding tone. "But… I mean…" Realizing she was sounding like an idiot, she closed her mouth, drew in a steadying breath, and tried again.
"I'd be honored to help you," Jaina said, sincerely. "I'm just not sure how."
"You said that you had returned. For the sake of your family." Anakin swallowed back his pride, and explained. "You had asked of Vader once, what his reason was to fall to the Dark Side. I answer you now: for love of my family. I had been receiving visions, visions of the death of Padmé. Years before, I had similar visions of my mother's death. That one, I could not prevent. I could not fail my wife. It was Palpatine who lured me, with tales of power, power enough to reverse death. I pledged myself to him for the promise to save my wife and our child, and in doing so, became the very vessel of her demise."
His gaze had turned to the ground. "Love is stronger than hate, you said. It was love that took me there, and hate for myself that anchored me. I need to banish that hate. I need to destroy Vader." He shook his head. "Or I shall never be fit to return to our family."
Jaina had learned most of this via Andrew's email already, but hearing it come directly from the mouth of the man himself was a little different. It made it all the more real to her and she knew, at that moment, that she had to help him. No matter what it might take. She still just didn't know how. She highly doubted just telling him she loved him and offering a hug would work. In fact, the very idea nearly made her cringe.
Start simple, her mind whispered, sounding a lot more like her Uncle Luke than herself. The voice was right, of course. Although before she could start much of anything, she needed a few questions answered.
"What made you turn back to the Dark Side, here?" she asked, first and foremost. "I can possibly understand why you did it to begin with. Wanting to protect those you care about and knowing you can't always save them is never an easy thing to accept. But, here, you have your wife back. So what happened?"
"Hate." The word was simple, small, but spoke volumes. "So long my life had been fueled by it. Trapped in a body I despised, supplicant to a man I detested, my own deeds an insult to everything I had worked for. Luke had returned me to myself, yes, but it was the fear and love I felt for him that sustained that. Emotions are strong, but still more fragile than hope. They wax and wane, and my contempt was strong. When I was returned here, I tried, but I could not be that man my wife remembered. I had no essence of Anakin Skywalker. Only the self-loathing of Vader. And I was not strong enough to set it aside."
"Well, of course you couldn't be the man that your wife remembered," Jaina replied. "Once you go to the Dark Side you can't ever be who you were before, not really. I spent less than a year walking that path and came back a different person." Her mind drifted back to that part in her life. She'd been so angry when Anakin had died and she'd thought she'd lost Jacen forever. She'd blamed herself, the galaxy, even the Force. Anything and everything she could think of, because as long as she was tossing around the blame she didn't have time to grieve.
"In the Old Order, Jedi weren't supposed to love. They weren't supposed to have ties to material things, and probably for this reason right here." Her lips quirked upward into a hint of a smirk. "But the Old Order has been gone for some time now, and if there's one thing I learned from my Uncle Luke, it's that emotions aren't bad. Sometimes they can make us do stupid things, true, but that doesn't make them wrong. It's the love for my family and friends that keeps me fighting, some days, when there's nothing else left."
Turning her attention toward the sky for a moment, watching with apathy as a plane flew overhead; she spoke once more in a soft, thoughtful tone. "It seems to me that you need to learn to forgive yourself." Her brown gaze flickered back to Anakin. "The opposite of love isn't hate. The opposite of love is apathy. And, the way I see it, the opposite of hate… is forgiveness."
There was a brief pause before she couldn't help but grin a bit and added, "And Uncle Luke swore I never paid attention in ethics lessons. Ha."
Anakin's lips quirked in something like a smile. "I would say it's a benefit you did. Or I might have nowhere to turn."
But her words quieted him while he considered them. "To forgive myself..." He shook his head lightly. "That will be a difficult one, Jaina. I have many reasons not to."
She studied him for a minute, waiting for him to elaborate. When it became obvious he wasn't going to, she decided to cut to the chase.
"Why?" Jaina asked, directly as was typically her style in most things. "Why can't you forgive yourself?"
Anakin turned away from her. "I murdered my wife. Slaughtered younglings. I tortured my own children. Even when I knew their names, I didn't relent. I knew you. I goaded you into a fight you couldn't win, and I took your hand and weapon as my trophies. I've destroyed entire worlds, whole species. I reshaped the galaxy into one of fear. That is my testament upon the universe. Maybe those crimes can be forgiven. But harming Padmé and my children, I can never justify."
She wasn't as horrified as she thought she should perhaps be, given all he'd just said. However, she'd known most of it already so it came as no big surprise. Instead she latched onto his words, found the error in them at once, and wasted no time in pointing his flawed logic out to him.
"No," Jaina said with a shake of her head, "Vader did those things. All you did was believe the lies of a madman. And really, if your own wife and your children can recognize that difference, as the most powerful Jedi in history you should have enough common sense to do so, too."
Anakin sighed. "Such a pleasant fiction. Anakin and Vader. If only we could be so separate. Perhaps then we could duel, and see for once and all who is the stronger. Even destroying each other would be a victory. But it's still fiction. We are the same. I was in every movement he made, just as he is within every action I take."
Actually, she wanted to reply, we're all fictional in this place.
She didn't, though. In fact, for a long moment, Jaina didn't say a word. She just studied him, her arms at her sides and her eyes narrowed a bit. Finally, when she did speak, it was in a harder tone than she'd used with him in the conversation thus far.
"If you want my help," she stated flatly, "you're going to have to stop contradicting yourself. Either you're Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight of the Old Order, or you're Darth Vader, the very essence of what it means to be a Sith. You can't make that claim in one breath then take it back in another." Her arms went up, crossing over her chest as she peered at him.
"So, make up your mind already, because if this is all just a waste of my time, I have repairs to get back to making so I can beat my father in that trench run through the Grand Canyon."
He considered her words. "I am Anakin," he said. "This is my choice, this is my decision. And I.... repairs?" His hands itched to work on a ship again. "I could help. I really could. I built a pod racer when I was eight and won the Boontha Eve Pod Race on Tatooine."
For a brief moment there, to Jaina at least, he didn't sound at all like the man she'd been speaking with. He didn't sound angry and hostile like Vader nor did he sound mature and well-spoken like Anakin. He sounded… well, actually, he sounded a lot like her when she'd been a small girl and trying to convince her father that she was perfectly capable of assisting with repairs and upgrades to the Falcon. Smiling at the memory, as well as the eagerness in Anakin's tone, she finally gave a nod of her head.
"All right," she agreed. "The sensor negators aren't calibrated right and the fusial engines aren't burning the TibannaX the way they should be. I've just about got the gravitic modulator re-circuited, so pick one of the others, grab a tool, and let's get to work." And with the quintessential Solo smirk upon her face, Jaina returned her attention to her StealthX and disappeared underneath.
Fortunately, as small as she was, there was enough room for Anakin as well. Although a heartbeat after she submerged herself beneath her vessel, she called out to him, "Oh, and watch out how much Force you use, too. The shadow bombs are being a little touchy."
She didn't say another word about his wanting to return to the side of Light. She figured if something as normal as this couldn't bring Anakin closer to the surface, nothing else likely would. Keep it simple, that voice whispered in her mind once more. I am, she sent back, before narrowing her eyes at the stubborn underbelly of her ship.
"One more karking spark in my face and I'm replacing you with a TIE fighter just as soon as we get back…"
Anakin sorted through the tools, chose three, and moved towards the engines, looking for the fuel injectors and watching the way they connected, looking over the interior of the engine. He was quiet as he started working, but after a few moments, asked, "Did the problem start when you got to this planet? Because there's clogging in the filters from the aftward vents. Probably something with the air quality here."
The filters were nearly black with dirt and debris. It was no wonder something wasn't getting through properly.
Jaina was in the middle of closing off one circuit, her attention already half-on the next one so she didn't lose its line of travel, when he spoke. Fortunately, she was used to conversation while working on vessels. She and her father had done most of their bonding over the same type scenario.
"It wouldn't surprise me," she replied after a second. "The air here is terrible. How this planet hasn't destroyed itself by now the Force only knows." There was another brief pause, her small hands working quickly and effectively in the areas that most others couldn't even reach, before she added, "I do know that it was flying fine when I was leaving Mandalorian space. If it hadn't been, Fett would have said something for sure. He never could pass up a chance to sic it to a Solo."
A soft sigh as yet one more circuit shorted out and Jaina closed her eyes, counted to five, then re-opened them and went back to work.
"You know, this would be a lot easier if Sneaker was still around," she grumbled.
Anakin was quiet for a moment, letting that process. Then, his hands still intent upon his work, cleaning out the vents and filter, he said, "Mandalorian space? Fett? I was under the impression Boba Fett was killed on Tatooine."
Much had happened in the decades since he had died.
It wasn't until Anakin spoke that Jaina realized he obviously wouldn't know the truth behind what had happened to Boba Fett. How could he? Fett had stayed hidden for years before re-surfacing again, and by that time Anakin was already dead.
"No, he survived," she answered simply, fingers flying at a near blur by the time she'd reached the end of one panel. Closing it, she moved on to the next one before explaining. "He used his jet pack to escape the Sarlacc, or so the story goes." The new panel's cover came off with a silent hiss and Jaina set it aside, returning her attention to the revealed circuitry.
" I had just finished a near year's worth of training under his guidance before finding myself here," she went on to say. Rolling her head to glance at her grandfather, she smirked a bit. "That blade I used to cut through your hand was a gift from him, in fact."
"Well, that explains the unorthodox maneuver," Anakin said, stripping off his glove as not to damage if and heating up the metal grille of the filter and vents with one of his tools. "Mandalorian blades are just about the only thing that will cut through carbonated byzanthium. Which, coincidentally, is what your hand is made from." Blaster fire would damage the coils underneath, should it melt through the synthetic skin, but the byzanthium would be unharmed by anything. Save a lightsaber, or a treated Mandalorian blade.
He used his metal hand against the hot grates, ignoring the heat sensations as he manipulated the filtration system. "And you cut my arm. Upper arm. Right where it goes from flesh to machine. It was a good hit."
He completed his task and stepped back. "I've adjusted the vents and the filters. They should be able to cope with the saturation levels now, but you'll have to change the filters a bit more often if you want to fly in this atmosphere."
With a glance, he turned back to Jaina. "How did you two settle the past between you enough to train with him?"
Jaina listened, eyebrows rising slightly in mild surprise when he admitted she'd managed to cut his arm. She had hoped as much, during the battle, but hadn't really been aiming for flesh. Still, she didn't reply, instead choosing to respond to the next thing he said.
"Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that. This keeps up, I'll be working on it as much as dad has to do upkeep on the Falcon," she muttered with a mild shake of her head. It wasn't an issue, really, since she adored working on things, but it was definitely a hindrance when she had so much else going on in her life at the moment. Still, if she wanted to fly – which she did – she had to take the good with the bad.
"Actually," she answered his question as she replaced the panel and began sealing it shut, "he contacted my dad, when Jacen turned to the Dark Side. It wasn't too long after that when I realized, if I wanted the edge over my brother, I had to step outside the box. Fett seemed the best way to do that. The Force knows he's trained enough others how to bring down Jedi and Sith alike." She shook her head a bit as she finally finished with her own repairs, and turned her head to look at Anakin.
"He still wants to rid the galaxy of both, so I just played on that part of him. I pointed out it didn’t matter who won, me or Caedus, because ultimately Fett would be the real winner since either a Jedi or a Sith would fall," she explained. "He seemed to realize it'd be better, in the long run, if I won and he just had me to contend with later."
With a sigh, she turned back to her work to double-check that all the panels were re-sealed properly. "The only real problem now is, as long as I'm here, there's no one there to stop my brother. Not since Fett put out the word no one else is to engage him in battle except for me," she finished softly. A heartbeat passed then she seemed to perk up a bit, pulling her thoughts away from the slight despair she felt at her current situation.
"Okay, the circuitry is done," she announced, tossing a grin her grandfather's way. "And you weren't lying. You really do have a gift with mechanics. Half of this stuff didn't even exist when you were still around."
"I said you'll have to replace them more often," he said. "In this atmosphere. As opposed to every time you go up. Out in real space, they should last for twice as long." Anakin didn't fix things to make them managable. His repairs were always to improve.
He listened quietly as she explained about the bounty hunter. It seemed to make sense, his vendetta. Anakin had been present on Geonosha when Jango Fett had fallen to Mace Windu's lightsaber. While he listened, he used a rag to clean off the dirt and oil from his cybernetic hand. "So you've accepted a deal to train with a Jedi-killer, in order to kill your twin, so you can later on face off with him, after he knows your fighting style?" Anakin frowned lightly. "I won't criticize your choice, but I might suggest you seek some alternative training before facing Fett. I may be able to show you some things that would catch him off-guard."
At her compliment, Anakin smiled, bowing his head lightly. "Thank you. And I should ask, how is your hand?"
Jaina glanced down at her hand, flexing the muscles slightly before shooting Anakin a grin. "It's great. It'll take some getting used to, but I adapt pretty easily once I accept the fact that I don't already know it all." Turning her attention to her ship, she added, "And while I'm not planning on being the one to deal with Fett, anything you want to show me I'm definitely up for learning." Because, really, when would she ever get another chance to do that?
Moving to the front of the vessel, she climbed easily inside and flipped the switch to bring a shadow bomb out along the side of the ship. It was a custom design she'd made on her StealthX – a way for her to study the bombs and check for any possible issues without having to be inside the confines of her ship. It was a little risky, having them out in the open, but the convenience more than outweighed the risk. Especially since the only way the bomb was going off was if it was activated via the Force.
"You know," she commented idly, glancing over her shoulder to Anakin as she hopped back down and moved around to where the bomb had emerged from, "there are only a handful of people on this planet that are Force sensitive, yet these things are acting like we're smack dab in the middle of the Praxeum. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear someone was trying to use them from some kind of distance."
She'd forgotten – or at least conveniently ignored the fact – that Anakin had never seen one before. Of course, he'd also never seen a StealthX before, but he'd had no trouble working on one. So it wasn't a huge oversight on her part but was, in fact, a sure sign that she definitely considered him a capable mechanic no matter what the circumstances.
"I'd be glad to train you. It would be helpful to know I can engage in friendly combat, without bringing our Dark friend into the encounter." And how better to get to know his granddaughter than to take a hand in her training?
When she explained about the shadow bombs, Anakin frowned. "They react to a strong presence in the Force? Or they can be activated though the Force?" He followed her to examine the bombs, questions answered as he looked them over. There was no triggering mechanism, no guidance system. Just a simple, effective explosive. It could only be activated by use of the Force.
And they were reacting to something. He could feel the energy humming through them. "There are others here. Not many, but a few, aligned to the Dark Side. If they were to feel the presence of these, Jaina… I know you understand the danger that could follow."
Jaina nodded, her expression grim as she studied the shadow bombs for a moment. "Well," she finally announced, "it looks like I'm going to be putting these repairs to the test sooner than I thought." With a shake of her head and a soft sigh, she added, "I guess the lack of space travel in this galaxy turned out to be a good thing after all."
In truth, Jaina hated the thought of losing the weapons. They could prove useful, if something were to attack that couldn't be defeated by conventional means. And if the Yuuzhan Vong showed up, they could be one of the few things that could stop them.
However, Anakin was right. If they fell into the wrong hands, the results would be nothing short of disastrous for this planet. So she knew she ultimately had no choice but to get rid of them. With another sigh, she turned back to face the man beside her. "I know someone by the name of Bastila Shan is here. She introduced herself when I first arrived. I'm going to take a wild guess that you know her, huh?"
Anakin glanced at the skies. "If they could be hidden, they could still prove useful. But if anyone Forse-sensitive could find them..." He shook his head. "The risk is too great. There would be no chance for defense." Moreso, he hated the idea of someone triggering those devices while Jaina was in her ship. The consequences would be far more than anyone would expect, particularly when it drove the Sith Lord within him out for revenge.
Oh, that one. Anakin nodded his head. "I do. She is my... Vader's apprentice. I can imagine she won't be pleased with my change of heart."
Which was like saying Tatooine was occasionally sunny.
Jaina was all set to point out the flaw in his plan, until he'd pointed it out himself. She was glad for that fact because even if there wasn't a flaw, Jaina still knew she'd have to destroy the bombs. She couldn't run the risk otherwise. She'd never be able to forgive herself if they fell into the wrong hands.
"No," she said in regards to Bastila, "I guess she wouldn't be." Her brow furrowed for a bit, clearly her mind was thinking about something, and when she spoke again it was with the slow tone used by a person remembering something they'd all but forgotten.
"She said that there was a version of me who was here before, a version she knew. I didn't give it much attention at the time, but now I wonder at what point in my life she met me." After all, there was a point in time in Jaina's life when she had turned to the Dark Side. Did Shan know that version of her, or had the other woman not always been aligned with the Dark Side, here?
"Oh well," the young woman finally stated, "It really doesn't matter. Neither her or anyone else is going to get access to these, and if she was still Vader's apprentice, hopefully she won't pose too much of a threat on her own." It was a lot to hope for - anyone who walked the path of the Dark Side posed at least something of a threat - but it was the only silver lining she could see at the moment.
Glancing toward the sky, she next looked back to Anakin. "I guess I should go ahead and get these things out of here," she commented. There was a hint of regret in her tone, both at having their conversation come to an end as well as willingly destroying weapons that could very well help protect the planet if a threat showed up that couldn't be dealt with otherwise. Jaina, though, was used to mild regrets, and she could always speak to her grandfather on another day. Work had to come first. There was just no other way around it.
Anakin nodded, reeling the same twinge of regret. He was glad for this time with his granddaughter, but he knew there had to be time for him to work things out on his own. He let out a breath, and glanced in the direction of the city. "I hope you will seek me out sometime. I look forward to hearing how the repairs held up."
There was work to be done. Both within himself, and through his employers. Whether his heart was in it or not, he had obligations. But that was not to say his duties could be... interpreted.
"Thank you, Jaina. This would be more difficult if not for your help."
"Oh, I'll seek you out," Jaina assured him, already climbing aboard her ship. Glancing back at him, she added, "And don't mention it. After all, what's family for?" Then with a smirk, she slid into the pilot's seat. A heartbeat later the StealthX roared to life and, with a small wave at Anakin, the young woman pointed her vessel toward the sky and took off with speeds that only a Solo - or Skywalker - would dare use in such a small area.
A few maneuvers to test out the repairs, with one bringing her close enough to the trees it likely would've given her mother a heart attack were she around to witness it, and Jaina was heading into the atmosphere. She had some bombs to get rid of, then a lot of thinking to do about how to best help her grandfather become the man she knew he could be, and put his past behind him once and for all.