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KYBER-PUNK 22BBY Shmi-I
🕑 Added 2025-12-14 01:47:42 +0000 UTC[Averted Fates]
— Shmi —
“My star… is this truly necessary…?” Shmi asked.
Ani, dear Ani, scoffed, almost as if she was offended by the question, “You deserve at least this much, Mom. If anyone questions your presence, I’ll make ‘em talk to me.”
“I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” Shmi demurred.
“Never,” Ani said firmly. “You not coming would cause me more distress than you coming, even if some… some gonks might not accept you there.”
“Gonks?” Shmi asked, amused and confused. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize that slang, Ani. I hope you’re not trying to slip some sneaky cursing past your old mother.”
“I’m not-!” Ani hurriedly denied. “Well… Kinda. I, uh, picked it up on Free Nar Shaddaa. But it doesn’t just mean ‘dumbass’!”
“Yet that was how you were using it,” Shmi noted.
Ani glanced away from her, not meeting her eyes, “… Maybe. But if they reject you, they deserve to be called worse!”
“Oh, Ani,” Shmi sighed. “You don’t need to go so out of your way like this. I’m happy as I am. Content, and I have been for a long time now. I don’t need anyone’s acceptance but yours.”
In a blink, she found her arms full of Ani. The dear girl was clinging to her like a sandstone limpet, as if reassuring herself that she was real, that they both were.
“All I need is you, too, Mom,” Ani muttered, her face in Shmi’s shoulder. “No matter how many people I meet or befriend, no matter how much I grow, that will always be true. I just-… I’m glad you’re here. And I want to show you around the life I now live.”
“And I’m happy to be here, my star,” Shmi assured. “I only hope you won’t go forcing things on my behalf. Aren’t I already something of a controversy amongst your peers, your Order?”
“It’s them who have a problem, not you,” Ani grumbled.
“Sometimes, you’ll just have to accept that others will have a problem with you,” Shmi advised. “All we can do is live our best lives despite them.”
Drawing herself back to stare resolutely in Shmi’s eyes — not even having to look up at her anymore, Shmi’s heart noted with joy, “That’s what we’re doing. The Temple, as troubling as it can be, is just as much my home as our little shack in the sand. And I won’t let anyone or anything stop me from showing you around it, Mom.”
“So stubborn,” Shmi chortled. “The more things change, the more they stay the same, I see. Very well, my star. If you’re determined, I certainly won’t object. Let’s see the home you’ve made in my absence.”
“Not absent,” Ani verbally vetoed the very idea. “Never absent. You’ve always been with me, Mom. Now, you’re just with me in the free flesh as well as the Force. You’ve come all this way to the Core, like me so many years ago, so I’ll personally ensure this trip is the best we can make it.”
“Lead and I shall follow, my star. Always,” Shmi smiled. “I am curious, after all. Coruscant is… so very different from Tatooine. But I’m sure that’s what you like about it. You were never content with just sand and sky. I never was, either, if I’m being honest with myself…”
“You… dreamed of more…?” Ani asked, curious and adorably hesitant — hopeful to share something with her.
“We always dream of more, my star,” Shmi said. “It’s in our nature as Skywalkers. But for the most part, I’m… used to Tatooine, if never completely content. I can hardly imagine leaving it behind at this point.”
“You can, though,” Ani stressed. “You can, now. You’re Free, Mom. We’re both Free.”
The reminder warmed her heart like nothing else — a lifting, soaring feeling — but Shmi still shook her head, “Tatooine, for all its flaws, is home. It was home when it was just the two of us. Those memories are impossible to deny, impossible to forget, my star. So even now, I wouldn’t be so quick to leave our home together to the sandstorms.”
“Right…” Ani muttered, worrying at her lip. “So long as you know that you can…”
She trailed off, not saying more than she said. Shmi didn’t ignore her; she never could. Ani… desperately wanted to leave their past behind. She wanted Shmi to be safe and happy and Free. And in her mind, Tatooine was the antithesis of all three of those things.
It was to Shmi, too, but her feelings were a touch more complicated than just that. Tinted, she did realize, by past memories rather than purely present reality. Yet… Shmi couldn’t give up those memories any easier than she could cut off a limb. To Shmi, for all of Tatooine’s ‘bad’, there was ‘good’, too. Even in the present, for Cliegg was good to her, if ultimately a simple man, and Tatooine was all he knew.
Shmi did love the man. It wasn’t a storybook romance, the kind told of in some of Mighty Leia’s paradoxically darkest stories. Love between slaves… rarely ended well. But it was always so, so necessary. Without love for each other, in any of its forms, the chained were nothing.
Shmi’s love for Cliegg was more comfortable, more solid, and more ‘built’ than ‘sparked’. On her part, at least. Cliegg had fallen in love at first sight, Shmi knew. He’d bought her chains and tried as best he could, as best he knew, to break them. But… Cliegg had never been chained. He simply couldn’t know that officially, legally freeing her was far from truly enough.
He ‘freed’ her, but Shmi was still chained. In both spirit and practice. She came to love him despite those persisting chains, for, at the very least, Cliegg was willing to try. But she hadn’t been truly Free until her starlit daughter returned with a new shine to her soul.
Ani returned bearing new hope and old memory, raging spite and set determination, and a song sung in Mighty Leia’s name that broke Shmi’s chains for good. She brought their shared sister’s good word with her, descending from the Sky that they’d looked up to together in her youth. Yet the stories she sang weren’t just old any longer; there were new tales of breaking chains, too.
Mighty Leia was stirring. Champions were being chosen and going on to fight in her name. The chains of a whole moon, a world, a system had been broken, and those Freed rose to stand on their own.
Mighty Leia’s good word of Freedom was being spread and set into law, a new state in the galaxy bearing that word — Free Nar Shaddaa. A spark had been set in the heart of chains, and Ani had personally carried a portion of the resulting flame back to the sand and sky she loathed so much.
Only another of Mighty Leia’s chained siblings could declare Shmi Free. And none was better for the task than her own starlit daughter. Ani returned, and the song she sang should’ve been impossible. Yet the moment Shmi heard that first note, she knew it to be ringing true.
Free, truly Free, Shmi happily joined her daughter in Mighty Leia’s Sky. Cliegg hadn’t understood, but he was still supportive. He tried, and Shmi loved him for that. Without lingering chains, it was a love without baggage, too. He’d been happy to meet Ani, if also adorably awkward about it, and the reunion — the merging of two stages of her life — settled something in Shmi’s soul as much as it inspired action to come.
Shmi was only the first note to be sung, Ani had confidently, resolutely, declared. Mighty Leia’s Laws wouldn’t be contained to just Free Nar Shaddaa for long.
Once more, as soon as she’d heard that, Shmi knew it to be true. And since it was, Shmi decided that she would do her part on sand and under sky. She was already making plans to revive her White Suns liberation movement on Tatooine, now with legal precedent and new hope, when Ani begged her to join them on their trip back to the Core.
She could hardly refuse her starlit daughter now that they were reunited and both free, truly Free. Ani, bless her, offered to bring Cliegg along as well, but he declined. Moisture farming on Tatooine was all he’d ever known, all he wanted to know. He was a simple man.
But with Shmi planning on joining the new song beginning to be sung, the common chorus of breaking chains, a bit of simplicity in her life was just what she needed. She’d merely shaken her head in fond exasperation, leaving Cliegg with a kiss and promise to return.
Freedom must’ve agreed with her — as it would for all of Mighty Leia’s siblings who still dreamed of it — because with that kiss, Shmi caught Cliegg looking at her like he’d fallen in love at first sight all over again.
Shmi left Tatooine with that pleasant thrill in her heart and the certainty that she could love Cliegg without chains. She joined Ani on the ship that would truly take her into Mighty Leia’s Sky, and met the faces she’d brought with her.
Shmi remembered Padme. Oh, how could she forget her star’s first crush~? Now, that beautiful girl had bloomed into a beautiful, confident, and altogether lovely woman. And with the way Ani had been nervous reintroducing them to each other, that first crush hadn’t faded over the years Shmi had missed. Internally, Shmi had squealed in excitement. But she did her best not to embarrass Ani. Yet, at least…
She remembered Obi-Wan as well, though only secondhand. She hadn’t actually met him face-to-face the first time around, mostly dealing with his Jedi Master and Padme. Now, that Master of his was tragically dead and young Obi-Wan was left looking after her Ani. It couldn’t have been easy, especially not her Ani…
Playfully, Shmi had given him her condolences, and earnestly, she’d given him the true depths of her gratitude. As far as she was concerned, Obi-Wan was family, looking after Ani for as long as she had. And she certainly didn’t miss the shining of one of Mighty Leia’s stars in his soul, though Ani didn’t seem to know about it…
She met Bail Organa, too. He seemed a good man, even if the life he lived was, quite literally, worlds apart from any Shmi had ever known. He was royalty — handsome and noble and more than living up to any childish dreams of such she… might’ve had once… She’d long since outgrown those… potential dreams, of course, but she still immediately decided that Bail Organa was a man Ani could proudly call a friend.
As they’d lifted off toward Mighty Leia’s Sky — Ani flying as she’d always dreamed of — Shmi was struck by a flash of perception not-quite-there, a flash of what wouldn’t be, not anymore… She didn’t even flinch.
The flash was a desperate, painful thing. Torture that wouldn’t, now couldn’t, be. She saw herself passing into Mighty Leia’s Sky, welcomed with open and mourning arms. But in doing so, she left Ani to Fall.
Relief struck Shmi, for that flashing future was already lost to her. She saw it, accepted it, and returned to her present and the still unknown future that would be. The flash passed as quickly as it came — a rare gift from Mighty Leia, but one Shmi had experienced before. Now and again, she would see paths not taken. Now and again, her starry sister would show her how she could’ve been chained, yet wasn’t.
Shmi’s life had long been… strange like that. The galaxy seemed to like throwing the impossible at her. She was used to it. Nothing fazed her anymore, and she was proud of that fact. Nothing could, not after Ani’s conception and birth.
But even before Ani, Shmi had been… somewhat inured to the magical and impossible. She was no Jedi, not like Ani. But… she could still be sensitive, no? And more than that, she could still be touched by her starry sister, by Mighty Leia.
When the galaxy threw the impossible at her, she accepted it and kept on walking her personal sky. Chained or free, she’d always walked on. She hoped that was the way of her people, a nomadic spacer clan she barely remembered, but she would never be sure.
Any solid connection she might’ve claimed to that legacy had been lost with the deaths of her parents in chains. Still, to Shmi, ‘Skywalker’ wasn’t just a name; it was a title, a purpose, and a promise… to walk on to the horizon and always beyond.
Ani… didn’t know… but perhaps she should. Now that she could, bypassing that fate that wouldn’t be, perhaps Shmi should open up to her daughter about the strangeness she’d always experienced. Ani would probably understand now, better than Shmi herself, since she was a true Jedi now. Then again… Shmi didn’t want to stress her starlit daughter with things that wouldn’t be…
In the end, Shmi kept her gift to herself, like so many times before. Ani didn’t need her moment ruined, and Shmi’s gift wasn’t a pretty thing. Fates averted rarely were. As always before, Shmi kept her peace and kept on smiling, for Ani’s sake. Just as she had with the flash of averted fate that had come after Ani was taken by the Jedi…
Mighty Leia empathized, then and now, shouldering a portion of the often-cursed gift she’d given Shmi. Now Free, Shmi’s connection to the starry sister above had been almost reborn. She saw the shining stars in Ani’s breast and Obi-Wan’s. She felt the one in her own breast, and heard the song now beginning to be sung, Mighty Leia’s voice in the void.
They returned to the Core, to Coruscant, and for a little while, Shmi was left to herself. Ani and Obi-Wan were giving their report to the Jedi Council. Bail and Padme were giving theirs to the Chancellor himself.
Shmi had simply relaxed and waited for them to return, physically leaning back on Mighty Leia’s ethereal starry form, standing at her back, to reassure herself that she was Free. In doing so, she felt herself standing at Ani’s back with Mighty Leia, too — both of them lending her strength as she stood her ground against old Masters of a different sort.
Ani came back to her, frustrated but even more determined. And Shmi’s heart shone to see her so grown up. She distracted Ani as best she could, letting her daughter show her around her new home. Coruscant was a world that never slept, yet for the heart of the Republic, it wasn’t nearly as Free as Shmi had hoped.
As Ani finally mustered the courage to show her around the Jedi Temple, Shmi shared her thoughts with her starlit daughter, frowning, “The chains are still strong here, yet the song is dull.”
Ani blinked and glanced at her, “… Uh, yeah. I don’t think word of Mighty Leia’s Laws has really reached the Core yet. You… You can sense that, Mom?”
Shmi laughed, “Did you think the woman who birthed you was blind and deaf, Ani?”
“That… would make sense,” Obi-Wan said, having joined them for the Temple tour. “Some level of sensitivity for you, Shmi, I mean. Ani’s too… much for me to believe she got none of that from you.”
“I’m still no Jedi,” Shmi demurred. “Mighty Leia’s sibling, at most, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. Whatever I may have cleaves to our starry sister and her alone.”
After a quiet moment of thought, Ani nodded firmly, “Yeah. Yeah, that tracks. I refuse to believe that Mom isn’t favored like me, either by the Force itself or by Mighty Leia. All the more reason she deserves to see the Temple for herself.”
“Again, not a Jedi, my star,” Shmi softly reminded. “I’m here for you, not them. Being a bit touched by Mighty Leia doesn’t change that.”
Ani stood a bit straighter with that reminder, a smile coming over her face. The expression remained as she brought Shmi into her new home. It stayed strong throughout the tour, even against the glances sent Shmi’s way. Most were merely curious. But a few here and there were confused or even concerned by her presence.
Shmi paid those few glances little mind, finding strength in Mighty Leia’s constant presence at her back. As she did, however, the glances grew more curious, more confused, and more concerned, many even double-taking as they passed, for stars shone behind her.
The Temple seemed a pleasant and peaceful place. It wasn’t like anywhere else Shmi had visited in her life, wonderful in all it represented — a whole city of Jedi packed into one comprehension-defying building. Massive, truly massive — more of the Temple had been lost to the ages than was currently in use.
Its history stretched back past any memory, living on through archives and architecture and traditions. It held a certain weight of being, the building and all who called it home, even in the center of the galaxy. The sense of significance surpassed anything else on Coruscant, both humbling and inspiring. Not even the Senate Complex came close. This was the Jedi Order, the Order Ani had joined. Shmi felt blessed to finally see it for herself.
Everything a Jedi might need was here, from living spaces to storied archives, from potential-filled youngling creches to the treasured domains of elders. Ani and Obi-Wan showed her meditation rooms, cultivated for peace and serenity, and classrooms full of adorable younglings, where generations upon generations of those who changed the galaxy were raised. They took her up a spire, towering over even the highest levels of Coruscant, and into the depths of the Temple, where they found a single fountain, seemingly forgotten but still peacefully bubbling away.
Around that single fountain in the depths of the Temple, they came upon a group of Masters in meditation. Ani and Obi-Wan began to usher her away, trying to avoid disturbing the Masters of the Order. But… Shmi had to admit some curiosity about the ones her star now called ‘Master’, even if she knew the title meant something different to the Jedi.
She ignored Ani and Obi-Wan’s urging to move on and leave the Masters to their meditation. With Mighty Leia at her back, Shmi stepped forward. Newfound Freedom, and a mother’s concern, let her speak plainly with those some would consider to be the Masters of the galaxy.
“Hello. I hope you all have a few moments to spare for a lowly mother and Freed slave,” She said, smiling politely.
As soon as she spoke, as soon as she set her path, a flash of averted fate entered her mind. In it, she saw Ani dismissed despite all of her achievements and contributions. She saw her daughter having to prove herself past any of her peers for the same recognition, driven past frustration to teeter on the edge of Falling. She saw dark tendrils sink into Ani, finding fertile ground in her frustration. Then, the flash was no more. It wouldn’t be, not like that.
As the flash faded, Shmi smiled. She shined. The Masters turned to look at her, regard her, and all three of them blinked when they saw her. Their expressions mirrored those Shmi had passed in the Temple’s halls: curiosity, confusion, and some concern, for stars shone at her back, there and not even to the impressive senses of Jedi Masters.
Obi-Wan, bless him, tried to apologize for her, half-bowing to each of the Masters in turn, “Excuse us, Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Mundi. I’m sure Shmi didn’t mean to disturb your contemplation out of any malice.”
“No,” Shmi confirmed, slightly amused. “Unless there is some reason they’d mistake a mother’s simple attention as malicious.”
Ani, seeing that Shmi wasn’t backing down, came to stand at her side for support, “I don’t see any reason they wouldn’t at least hear you out, Mom.”
One of the Masters — the one Obi-Wan had named Master Mundi — frowned disapprovingly, “Hmph, malice? Perhaps not. Arrogance, however… perhaps. Flaunting your exception, Padawan Skywalker?”
“No more than you, Master Mundi,” Ani innocently replied, as if blue butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
Mundi’s frown deepened, “I have never brought the wives my species’ survival requires of me into these hallowed halls.”
“Ki-Adi, this seems a bit of an overreaction for a simple visit,” Another Master — Master Windu — chided him.
To Shmi’s surprise, Mundi just sighed, “I suppose you’re right. While I doubt I’ll ever approve of Padawan Skywalker’s… exceptional situation… that complaint may have been somewhat disingenuous and ill-befitting of my station.”
“Meditation, getting through to you, it is?” The small, green, unidentifiably alien Master — Master Yoda — hurrumphed the question.
“It hardly needs to,” Mundi said, sticking his nose up in affront at the thought. “I’m not in the wrong, except for a slightly disingenuous overreaction. Padawan Skywalker’s situation is… exceptional, and must be treated as such. Someone must keep her honest.”
“Oh?” Shmi asked. “Honest about what, Master? Honest about showing her newly Freed mother around the home she’s made here with your Order?”
The other two Masters glanced at her, seemingly hearing the danger in her placid and pleasant tone, but Mundi didn’t seem to share that same perceptiveness, “Why, honest about her attachments, of course. They linger and may just corrupt her from the proper path of a Jedi. Such a… sentimental… outing as this, with you, my lady, is evidence of that.”
“A tour of the Temple will corrupt our young peer to the Dark Side?” Windu asked with a raised brow.
“It’s not the tour. Don’t be purposefully obtuse, Mace,” Mundi argued. “It’s what this outing represents. She’s reveling in her exception, her attachments, instead of accepting them as they are and moving on as she should. An exception was made, yes. But that should be the end of it, not the beginning as we’re seeing here.”
The smile on Shmi’s face stayed utterly still, dangerously frozen in place as she listened to the Master’s thought process. She’d anticipated pushback to her presence and Ani’s relationship with her, but nothing this stubborn and holier-than-thou. Perhaps she should’ve. Mundi acted as if Ani were the only one in their Order who could do wrong. It… rubbed Shmi in the worst of ways.
“Politely, I completely disagree,” She said. “But then, I believe I’ll always disagree with your Order’s… stance on ‘attachments’, that nebulous word. My Ani loves fiercely, and that is a core part of the good in her heart. Trying to strangle it so… Well, I can’t say I approve. Do you require all of your Jedi to give up such core aspects of their sentience?”
“But of course-…” Mundi began.
Windu cut him off, “The truth isn’t so much in ‘giving up’ as it is in control and moderation. Yes, we ask much of our Jedi, but not the impossible. The Order is ultimately built on attachments, as we are all brothers and sisters in the Force. Letting those attachments control us is where a Jedi begins to stray.”
“And these rules apply to all?” Shmi asked.
“You aren’t a Jedi, my lady,” Mundi dismissed. “You wouldn’t understand, not even the lax interpretation of the Code that Mace champions.”
“Confrontational, this has become,” Yoda said, bringing all of them up short. “Unnecessary, it is. Flexible, open-minded, always learning, we must strive to be. Dismissing outsiders, arrogance lies in, Ki-Adi. Arguing with our peers, disunity lies in, Mace. Yet Mother Skywalker, unfamiliar with our Code, you still are.”
“I might be unfamiliar with your code, but I’ll never be unfamiliar with my Ani,” Shmi stated firmly. “Contrary to the popular saying, a mother doesn’t always know best. But even the short time I’ve spent with Ani since our reunion has shown me what she needs.”
“And what would that be?” Windu asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“She needs to be grounded, and she needs true purpose,” Shmi answered. “Loath as you seem to be to allow them, attachments would give her just that, especially attachments to Mighty Leia and her chained siblings.”
“This again…” Mundi muttered, almost scoffing.
The shine at Shmi’s back challenged the Jedi Master to say that louder. And Shmi just pressed on, noticing the shine, of course, but counting it as normal. Mighty Leia was always with her. The other two Jedi Masters seemed to be taking her seriously, at least — both Yoda and Windu listening thoughtfully.
“Let my star shine,” Shmi continued softly. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Valued, your wisdom, your familiarity are,” Yoda actually bowed his head to her. “Taken into consideration, your words shall be. Difficult, hm, difficult situation, this is. Exceptional, as Ki-Adi says. Stumble blindly, even Jedi Masters may.”
“You’re not… completely blind, Master Yoda…” Ani awkwardly and half-heartedly came to the old Master’s defense. “Just… I’m sure this is new territory, even for you. Everything Free Nar Shaddaa touches seems to be…”
“But,” Ani straightened her back and set her shoulders, “So long as the Order is trying, I’ll try as well. I’ve no intention to abandon the Order — it’s as much my family as Mom is — and I’ve certainly got no intention to Fall like a gonk.”
Seeing her star’s determination, Shmi smiled to the very core of her being. Mighty Leia smiled with her, stars twinkling happily over her shoulder. Still, Mundi found a way to ruin Ani’s determined declaration.
“Few intend to Fall, Padawan Skywalker,” He admonished. “Intent is noble, until it falls short of action and practice. I firmly believe you’re walking a dangerous path as you are. Your exceptions, your rebellion, your attachments, and this unknown Force deity of yours. There is no telling how it will end. And if we meet in disaster at that end, we will have failed you, the Order, and the galaxy most grievously.”
“While I think your preconceptions are coloring your perception of the situation… you aren’t completely wrong, Ki-Adi,” Windu admitted.
“Watch her, then, we will. Help her,” Yoda decided. “She is Jedi. We are Jedi. Leave her to walk her path alone; we will not.”
“Special attention to go along with her exception?” Mundi all but sneered.
Yoda reached over and swatted the almost-sneer off his face with his cane, “In trying to be fair and unbiased, we have been the opposite. A fallacy, to treat all the same, it is. Beautifully different, beautifully unique, we all are. Complacent, we have grown, in that wonderful reality. Tailor our treatment to the individual, not the Order, we must begin to.”
“What… exactly does that mean for my Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, and Shmi rejoiced to see his care and protectiveness in action.
“I believe…” Windu said. “It means that it’s about time for Padawan Skywalker to get her chance at the Knighthood trials.”
“About DAMN time!” Ani exclaimed, her excitement and vindication palpable.
Mundi didn’t protest, but he did try to dampen Ani’s raised spirits, “You’ll have to pass the Trials just as any other Knight-to-be, Skywalker. Here, we will show you no special attention. Leave your… exceptions… at the door, for the Trials will test you as you are, no more, no less.”
His expression was stern and strict — utterly no-nonsense — until he hesitated, “But… Even I will admit that you’ve earned the chance. So long as you live up to the Order’s standards of Knighthood, you will pass.”
“She will,” Obi-Wan said in firm and sure support. “The chance to take her Trials hasn’t been kept from her due to any lack of achievements or progress on her part. She’s more than cleared the threshold where any other Padawan would get their chance. I’d even go so far as to cry ‘undue and unfair bias’ there.”
“And it may be true,” Windu acknowledged. “I’ve read the reports of your missions together. Padawan Skywalker has faced Fallen Jedi, overcome Dark Side visions, recovered a Sith holocron, stopped terrorism, averted genocide, braved the ancient and twisted world of Korriban itself, maintained her principles and the Order’s through the dark depths of mundane politics, and more. Her record — with you, Knight Kenobi — speaks for itself.”
“Hm, yes,” Yoda hummed. “Shame, it is, that willing to listen, we were not.”
Shmi suppressed a gasp at hearing just a slice of Ani’s adventures as a Padawan. Her starlit daughter was still so young, yet she’d already done so much.
Still, she kept her worries and pride for Ani to herself so she didn’t disturb the Jedi in their Jedi business. She’d intruded enough for now, thrown a hydrospanner into the works so certain fates wouldn’t be. The rest was up to Ani and the Order. It wasn’t Shmi’s place to interfere overly much. Ani would always be hers… but she also belonged to the Order now — to the whole galaxy, even — and in that newfound position, she’d already done so much good.
“In your future,” Yoda said with finality. “The Trials of Skill, Courage, Flesh, Spirit, and Insight are, young Skywalker.”
With her chance coming before the frustration and sense of persecution Shmi had forseen could set in, Ani was pure in her determination and confidence, nodding, “I am ready, Masters.”
Obi-Wan laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled with poignant pride, “You are, Ani. I can’t wait to see you succeed, to call you my peer, not just my Padawan.”
“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving me once you can, Master…?” Ani half-jokingly, half-earnestly asked.
Obi-Wan firmly shook his head, “Never. We’re a team, and a damn good one. Our journey together won’t end until you want it to, Ani.”
“So… never, then,” Ani, audibly relieved, repeated Obi-Wan’s commitment.
He chuckled, “Yes, I didn’t think I would get rid of you that easily.”
Right there and then, Shmi decided — if she hadn’t before — that she loved Obi-Wan just as she loved Ani. He was proving himself to be family to her star, and thus, family to Shmi as well. Even young, even unexperienced, even doubting himself, he stepped up when Ani needed him. To say nothing of the shared star that shined in his soul. He was family that way, too, beloved as all of Mighty Leia’s chained siblings were. Shmi couldn’t have asked for a better man to entrust with her starlit daughter.
“You’re free to continue working with each other,” Windu reassured at the end of their touching moment. “Many former Padawan-Master pairs do. But with Padawan Skywalker now preparing for her Trials, I believe we’ll find another assignment for you, Knight Kenobi.”
Mundi, seeming to know what Windu was referring to, nodded in approval, “Kenobi’s skills are proven and suitable for that mission. I doubt anyone would do as well investigating a potential Sith as the ‘Sith Slayer’.”
“Dark days, these are,” Yoda bowed his head in regret, his long green ears drooping. “When necessary, it is, to investigate an old friend, an old peer. My own Padawan, he once was. Deeply hope, I do, that he hasn’t fallen so far.”
“Unfortunately, it’s very possible. Likely, even,” Mundi argued. “At the very least, he’s actively working against the Republic. That much can’t be denied. He champions the… misguided Separatist movement, and perhaps pushes further. If there is more at play, we must know.”
“Knight Kenobi,” Windu said. “Your new mission is to investigate the former Jedi Master — now Count — Dooku. We need eyes on him, and on his leadership of the Separatist movement. Uncover his means, motives, and ends. Determine if he has truly Fallen… or worse. The Sith are alive in the shadows, this we know. And there is a very real chance that Dooku has joined them. Find out.”
“I’ll begin working the case immediately, Masters,” Obi-Wan bowed.
As soon as the mission was accepted, Shmi saw another flash of averted fate. An investigation that wouldn’t be. It began on Coruscant and followed a dark trail into lost space. A water world there, and high-tech facilities. Then, farther — a desert world populated by swarms of insectoid sentients, dedicated to building more swarms, swarms of droids. And finally, Obi-Wan suspended in mid-air — not chained, yet certainly captured. But… it wouldn’t be, not like that.
He turned to Ani, “Ani? Why don’t you go… prepare for your Trials… Unfortunately, you’ll likely miss out on this mission.”
He advised her to ‘prepare’ while glancing pointedly at Shmi. Of course, to her amusement, no one was fooled by the transparent deception. But the Masters didn’t protest, even if Mundi frowned. It was, at least, unspoken approval for Ani to spend time with her mother while she could.
Ani seemed put out about not joining Obi-Wan’s mission, but only for a moment as Shmi regained her full attention.
“I think I’ve seen enough of the Temple, my star. Do you think Padme is back on Coruscant by now?”
The mention of Padme roused Ani’s spirits, and she nodded excitedly, “She should be getting back at any moment now. I can call her to find out her landing pad, and we can meet her there. I know she’ll be happy to spend more time with you, Mom.”
Shmi smirked to herself. Even after years apart, she still knew how to distract her star. Of course, that distraction was made easier with the help of Ani’s crush. The way Ani looked at or spoke of Padme was adorable, utterly adorable. And Shmi hadn’t missed the way Padme had begun to look back at Ani. Still, Shmi was a good mother. She’d… try to keep her teasing to a minimum.
They left Obi-Wan to the Masters and his new mission. An hour or so later, they found themselves standing on a Coruscant landing pad and watching Padme’s sleek silver ship make its final approach. Padme had only been gone for a couple of days on some minor senatorial business, and already Ani was vibrating to see her again. Adorable…
As Padme’s ship landed, a sudden shockwave rocked Shmi’s mind. The ship went up in a fireball. The explosion was targeted, Shmi saw. An assassination. Yet she also saw it fail, saw Ani assigned to guard Padme against further attempts, and saw one more assassination attempt be foiled due to her presence. She saw Ani and Padme go into hiding and fall in love. She saw them rush to rescue Obi-Wan from his captivity. Then, only darkness and conflict to come…
Then, the flash of averted fate passed. Shmi hadn’t even flinched, and the ship landed without incident. It wouldn’t be, not like that. Well… unlike most other flashes of averted fate she’d seen, perhaps she would take some inspiration from this one. Particularly, the part where Ani and Padme fell in adorable, heart-warming love…
The rest, Shmi didn’t care to recreate. Except for the matchmaking idea of Ani and Padme, she put the flash of averted fate out of her mind. As always. What wouldn’t be didn’t compare to what was and what would be. Mighty Leia’s stars shone with destiny unchained, and that was what Shmi valued, what she lived.
… Even if it meant exasperatedly putting up with Padme playing dress up for the party she invited them to that night. Watching Ani and Padme’s crush in action made up for that, at least, and Shmi did enjoy getting to spread Mighty Leia’s word to the politicians of the Core.
In the end, what was always mattered more than what wouldn’t be. And what would be, too, for Shmi was already seeing love in her starlit daughter’s future…
IIIII
[AN: Sorry for the wait for a relatively short chapter. Halfway through writing this, my laptop died on me. I lost a lot of data, but thankfully, none of my writing. Mostly, it served to, like, utterly maim the momentum I’d been building up for this chapter, and I had to scramble to find a backup computer. I have something that works now, and my main laptop has been sent in for service, but I doubt I’ll be getting much, if any, data back with the laptop. It was almost impressively bricked. And I only had a partial backup of it (thankfully, including my writing, saved pics, and word processor). The rest of the data on there… well, it’s a thing of I won’t know what all I’m missing until I go looking for it. Sucks; could’ve been much worse though. I’m rolling with it. Just gotta keep on keeping on, ya know?]
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
Zai
Tftc. I really like all of your stories and am loving this one but it seems that, at least in my opinion, your MCs stop being the central part of your stories and different povs happen more frequently. Or something happens that makes the plot progession slow down from MCs pov. Or something else I can't explain. It's just i'm always left feeling wanting more from your MCs pov. MCs that are probably the most enjoyable to read about from across all fanfiction. That's not to say I didn't enjoy this chapter, it was great and I'm enjoying the lore building. Condolences for the bricked laptop. Hopefully you have cloud backups for any importnat stuff and I'm not entirely sure but some repair shops have ways of extracting data from the physical components from laptops if you can find those places.
Marius A. Rex
Damn, sorry that happened to you
