Chapter Twenty-Four
Anakin

The cool, polished floors of the Jedi Temple echoed beneath my boots as I made my way down the familiar halls, each step a reminder of the weight I carried. The high ceilings loomed above me, adorned with intricate carvings that told stories of the Jedi's legacy. My heart raced, a mix of urgency and anxiety coursing through me, driven by the urgency of Mira's situation. How could someone dare threaten her?

Just as I turned the corner, lost in my thoughts, a soft but discernible sound broke through the quiet: a throat being cleared. My head snapped up, and I almost stumbled at the sight of Master Qui-Gon Jinn emerging from the dim light of the corridor. His presence was like a beacon; tall and imposing, yet wise and kind.

"Master Qui-Gon! Hey!" I said, relief flooding through me as I smiled. The tension in my shoulders began to ease just a little, grateful for his familiar face amidst the chaos.

"Hey there, young Skywalker," he greeted, his voice smooth and calming like the gentle rustle of leaves. "What are you doing here, and where is your master?" His eyebrows raised slightly, concern woven into his tone, the way he often looked at Anakin when he wanted more than just casual pleasantries.

I shifted my weight, swallowing hard as the gravity of my mission settled deep in my gut. "I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's trying to find out who's trying to kill Mira, I guess." There was a flicker of resolve in my chest as I spoke her name, her image flashing in my mind.

Qui-Gon's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, followed by a softening of his eyes. "Why haven't I heard about this?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. I could feel his powerful presence as he drew closer, his calm aura wrapping around us like a protective cocoon.

"Uh, I don't know," I replied, frowning as I tried to piece together my thoughts. "I think it's being kept quiet—a way to prevent panic, maybe? But we can't just sit by while she's in danger." My hands clenched into fists at my sides, the urgency of the situation igniting something fierce within me.

Qui-Gon studied me for a long moment, his expression a blend of understanding and concern. "You are wise to seek out the truth, Anakin," he said slowly, his voice steady. "But you must remember, there are times when preserving information can help those we care about. Still, that does not mean you should bear this burden alone."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. Qui-Gon was right; I felt the weight of responsibility pressing against me, but I also knew I had friends who were willing to stand by my side when needed. "I just want to protect her, Master. I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

His piercing green eyes softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Then let us work together to uncover the truth, Anakin. You are stronger when you share the weight of your worries."

In that moment, with Qui-Gon's reassuring presence grounding me, I felt a spark of hope. We were Jedi, after all—bound by a code, driven by compassion, and united in our fight against the darkness. And together, we would find a way to ensure Mira's safety, come what may.

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Maul

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing at my eyes in frustration. It was hard chasing after that stupid queen of a child. Sure, she was pretty—not that I cared about such things—but it didn't change the fact that she was a distraction from my purpose. I knew better than to defy my master's orders, but I was growing weary of this endless pursuit.

Every time I drew near to her, I could feel the presence of the Jedi surrounding her like a swarm of annoying insects. Those fools seemed to multiply overnight. There was that little Jedi Knight, quick and all too adept, her presence a constant thorn in my side. And then there was the senator, that insufferable man with his smug attitude, acting like he was her guardian angel. Each encounter further stoked my irritation.

I nudged a probe droid from its resting place, sending it skimming out over the lush green landscape of Lothal. I could see it now, that vibrant expanse stretching endlessly before me—a stark contrast to the darkness that churned inside. Perhaps this time, I could find her. After all, I was tired of this game.

"Just kill her and be done with it," I muttered, my voice laced with annoyance. Why was capturing a single child so tiresome? The galaxy was filled with more formidable foes, yet here I was, stuck chasing a young girl while I felt the weight of the Jedi pressing down on me. I glanced out at the rolling hills, feeling that familiar ache in my temples at the thought of yet another failure.

It was infuriating. I moved my attention back to the probe's feed, letting my frustration settle into a steely determination. I had to outsmart them, to find a way past their vigilant eyes and capture her once and for all. Perhaps there was a way to draw her out, to make her think she was safe so I could strike.

I concentrated even harder on the probe's scans, searching for any sign of the queen. I could feel my pulse quicken, a spark of hope igniting as I envisioned her fate—the moment when her reign would come to an abrupt end. With each passing moment, I imagined the satisfaction surging through me, a wave of triumph washing away the bitterness of this drawn-out pursuit.

This time, I told myself, it would be different. I would find her, and when I did, she would not escape. Nothing would stand in my way—not the Jedi, not her advisors. I was done playing games. The hunt would end, and I would finally fulfill my purpose.