Empire Day. That's what they called it and everyone dreaded it. I always thought it was rather odd really; we hated the grim holiday, muttered about it beneath our breaths, and then smiled happily when it came. On Empire Day, everyone smiled. Fake, plastic smiles that were put in place by sheer force of will. If it were up to us, we wouldn't smile. We'd train, we'd make plans, we'd redouble our efforts to rewrite the wrongs of the past; but, if anything, we wouldn't smile. But, then, if it were up to us, we wouldn't have an emperor anyway and there would be no need for Empire Day.
No emperor. That's what we want; and, more than that, we wish my grandfather had made different choices.
Which is what I've been training for. Ever since last Empire Day when one of the Jedi made an offhand comment about 'rewriting the past', I've been obsessed with the idea of doing just that. My father, of course, was completely against it; he wouldn't stand to send his daughter into the turmoil of the past and just hope she'd come out alright. No, when I brought the idea up in front of him he said he'd send one of the older Jedi.
Definitely not his teenage daughter.
Why, then, am I waiting to go back to the time of the Senate and Palpatine?
Well, it's a funny thing how the force works sometimes; it turns out the time technology wasn't capable of sending back a full-grown man. In fact, as my dad would say, "It's only barely capable of sending back a short-for-her-age, scrawny little brat of fourteen years..."(he grinned afterwards, and I knew he was trying to be humorous to hide his anxiety.)
So, here I am. Seconds away from disappearing into an unknown past. Talk about butterflies, right?
I have to hope that things are going to be alright, but I can't...I can't hope becaue I am the last hope. I am Eva Skywalker.
Sunlight sent golden panels onto the floor, casting the temple into sharp relief. It wasn't 'bright' inside but compared to the palpable black darkness that she'd just emerged from, Eva might as well have been in a spotlight. It took a moment for her grey eyes to grow accustomed to the light, and even longer for her mind to grasp the fact that she'd just leapt backwards on the timeline and landed smack-dab in the middle of her grandfather's life.
Once she could see and, more importantly, wrap her mind around what had happened, Eva took a few clumsy steps. A group of younger children strode past her; they wouldn't laugh if she asked them a question. For all they knew, she was a full-fledged Jedi. Any of the older folk would immediately know she didn't belong. So, gathering her nerve, she approached one of the smaller boys and said sweetly, "Do you know where Anakin Skywalker is." From what her father had told her, Anakin had been incredibly well-known back in the day. Any aspiring young kid in the Temple would have an idea of where he was. Or, at least, Eva hoped they would.
"Master Kenobi and Skywalker are busy sparring." A calm voice said, startling her.
"M-m-master Windu." she choked, hoping she'd guessed his name correctly. He matched the description perfectly; her father had made her spend weeks memorizing names and dates, places and maps. He wanted her fully prepared for this mission.
"Yes. Was there any reason you were looking for them." he surveyed her evenly as he spoke, "Shouldn't you be with your Master."
"I, well..." Eva stammered, struggling to regain her composure as she gazed at the intimadating man, "Yes, he wanted to speak with Master Kenobi."
"So you were asking around for where Anakin was?" Master Windu's eyes shone.
"I, yes--I mean, no, no of course not. Nobody knew where Master Kenobi was so I--I figured if I could find Anakin, he could tell me where his master was and..."
"Of course. They're sparring not far from here; just down the hall. Be quick about it, though, as I understand, they're very busy."
Eva made a clumsy, haphazard bow, mumured a thank you beneath her breath, and scurried off to find her grandfather.
She was halfway down the hall when she spied the two men, sparring more skillfully than she'd ever seen. She froze in her hurried steps and stared openly as Anakin swung his saber and Obi-Wan parried. How different they were from the wizened old Jedi and half-machine that Eva had grown up to know them as! She was struck dumb, immobile, watching them with unrepressed awe.
After a few minutes she seemed to come out of her reverie and strode closer to the dueling men, "Master Kenobi." She said loudly. The fighting ceased almost instantly. Light sabers were turned off, sweat was wiped from their brows, and both men turned to her as she approached. "Master Kenobi, I don't mean to interrupt."
"Not at all, what do you need?" Obi-Wan addressed her, breathing deeply after the sparring match.
"I..." Eva was making things up as she went along, which really wasn't the best strategy. "I had a question and my master said that I should probably ask you about it. He said you'd know better than he would."
Obi-Wan only nodded and shot a glance at Anakin. "I'm sure it won't take long, Anakin. Practice your meditating while I'm gone." Anakin looked like he'd much rather be doing anything in the world but grudgingly strode down the hall to their chamber where he could meditate in peace.
"Now tell me, young padawan, what did you want to know?" He looked at her, waiting for a response. Eva had to suppress the urge to blurt out everything all at once.
"Master Kenobi, " she began slowly, "I'm Eva-Eva Skywalker. I...I don't have a question to ask of you; I need a favor. A big favor."
"Eva Skywalker? Not an altogether common lastname. Any relation to Anakin?" the gears seemed to be turning in his mind as Eva watched him take in what she said.
"Yes, sir." here she couldn't help but smiled witha small sense of pride. Her grandfather; a hero. "And that's where I need your help. I wouldn't ask but my father insisted that I come to you straight away. He said you'd know what to do."
Kenobi smiled, "I'm pleased to hear your father thinks so highly of me; who is he?"
"Luke Skywalker, sir. Anakin is my grandfather."
Eva had really thought Obi-Wan was taking everything she said pretty well. Until, of course, she spoke that last sentence. He eyes widened and he managed to force out a weak, "What?"
"Don't tell me you never suspected it. I've heard you tell dad a hundred times you always thought there was something between Anakin and Padme."
"I don't know your father." said Obi-Wan, as though disproving this part of her story would make the other information she'd given him void as well.