He had felt her wounding then was his fault. Unsure of her abilities, sure of his own, he had leaped to protect her and crashed into her instead. He had thought himself the better fighter, and because of that, he had pushed her into blaster fire.

She had never held it against him.

He saw her face again, so pale. The bright ribbon she always wove through her braid, trailing in the dust of the tomb.

He knew she was badly wounded. He felt it choke him. He had not gone to help Ferus. Darra had. She was lying on the ground. He tried to put those facts together to have them make sense.

Tru's lightsaber had slipped to half-power.

Anakin had never offered to check the flux aperture, just in case. He had meant to.

What is happening to me? Anakin wondered. His mind felt suddenly clear, sharp. Why didn't I help my friends? Have I changed? Am I changing?

What am I becoming?

When he had first become a Padawan, he would not have hesitated. His first loyalty had been to them.

Things were more complicated now. There was more at stake.

Maybe he was changing for the better.

Control rule supremacy greatness…

Was he more mature now? A better fighter? Better able to assess a situation, move toward the goal? Was that why he had raced to confront Omega? Or had his own jealousy propelled him? How could he separate those things? Why did he have to?

Power rules by results…

Anakin shook his head. The voices would not leave him.

He thought of Darra. Tenderness filled him, and the voices went away.

Years ago, he had gone to see Darra in the med clinic, filled with remorse. She had shaken him out of his guilt with a grin. Now I have something to impress the younglings with. I've been wounded in battle.

And then he remembered something he hadn't thought of in years. He had always thought of her strength during that time. Now he remembered her fragility. He remembered her hand on the coverlet. Her fingers had so briefly touched his sleeve.

Stay with me until I fall asleep. It's lonely here.

Anakin beat at the trap again. He felt the rage rise inside him. He knew the rage was interfering with the Force, but he couldn't control it.

If only… if only he could use the rage. But that was something a Jedi should not do.

The frustration boiled in him. He could not move. His Master was gone now, into the darkness.

Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised when the visions of the Sith Lords faded and he saw Qui-Gon. But he was. He should have known the Sith were capable of drawing his most painful memory from within him.

Qui-Gon, with a gaping wound in his chest where Darth Maul had struck.

"You were always so afraid of disappointing me," Qui-Gon said. "And you have."

Obi-Wan stopped. His lightsaber dangled in his hand.

It's not real. It's not real.

"You've failed me, Obi-Wan."

Not.. real.

"And you don't even know why."

Obi-Wan took a breath. He walked forward, straight at Qui-Gon. The image disappeared.

Shaken, he continued into the darkness. Now it was easier to walk past the Sith Lords, the visions who snarled and hissed and sent out grasping fingers as he walked past. He had seen the worst.

He heard a hiss, felt the dark side surge, and barely had time to prepare when the flash lit up the darkness. A luma blast, sent by a rocket, designed to blind him.

Obi-Wan threw himself on the floor and rolled. Behind his closed eyes, he saw explosions of orange and yellow, bright as a double sun. Using the Force, he guided himself alongside a tomb and crouched behind it. When he opened his eyes, he could see nothing.

Then more blaster fire, so rapid he realized that Omega must have set up a repeating blaster. From the sound of it, an E-Web, one of the most powerful repeating blasters ever manufactured. It sat on a tripod. It took two gunners, but one could handle it, if very skilled.

Omega didn't know where he was… yet. Obi-Wan was painfully aware that the E-Web had enough power to punch through armor plating on a cruiser. He heard the stone tombs shatter across the space as they were hit. He couldn't remain here. He had to keep moving.

He kept himself low to the ground and felt his way around the tomb. He could track the blaster fire through the Force, could defend himself if he had to. It was part of Jedi training to be able to fight without sight.

Younglings learned with novice helmets that blocked their vision. Obi-Wan was suddenly, fiercely glad for that training.

Omega would expect him to hide. Therefore, he had to expose himself.

He had to trust in the Force.

Blinded, Obi-Wan rushed forward. He felt the air against him as a guide. Objects displaced air, and with the help of the Force, a Jedi could feel the displacement and adjust. Obi-Wan raced forward confidently. His vision would return. In the meantime, Omega was close. So close he could hear the creak of his armor-weave tunic as he moved his arm….

A wrist rocket. Obi-Wan dodged and weaved, knowing the targeting laser system was working to get a fix on him. He moved like quicksilver, flowing from one position to the next. He heard the rocket release and he put on a burst of speed, running blind, running straight at Omega now. He felt the whistle as the rocket whizzed by his ear.

"I love watching you run," Omega said. "Ready, set, go!"

Another wrist rocket. Obi-Wan Force-leaped. He felt the rocket behind him and he swerved at the last minute. The rocket crashed into a tomb.

Splinters of rock showered over Obi-Wan.

"I could do this all day," Omega said.

Blinded, breathing hard, Obi-Wan allowed himself a fraction of a moment to rest. Inside him blazed the memory of every battle with Omega.

From the beginning Omega had set out to confound him, humiliate him, destroy him. He had set out to impress the Sith by attacking the Jedi, and he had managed to do it again and again, always escaping at the last possible moment. He had even managed to kill a Jedi Master. Yaddle had sacrificed her life for this man's greed and revenge.

It had to end here. It had to end now.

He saw streaks in his vision now, a sign that his sight was returning.