Anakin took a deep breath as he plunged his lightsaber into the Tusken tent. He could feel Mom on the other side – and also feel her pain. He hoped he wasn't too late.
His lightsaber hit the sand. Finally he'd cut through. He pushed down the flap and rushed into the tent-
-only to find himself on his side, being stared down by Master Yoda. "Master Yoda?" he asked. The voice that came out was not his own. "What happened?"
Yoda stared at him suspiciously. Anakin realized he was in the Jedi Temple – how had he ended up there? – and pushed himself to his knees. These weren't the clothes he'd worn, these weren't his hands he was looking at, and that definitely wasn't his lightsaber hanging at his waist. Oh no.
"Master Windu, you are not," Yoda declared and drew his lightsaber.
"I swear I didn't touch anything!" Anakin cried out. "I'm Padawan Skywalker, I was on Tatooine and then suddenly I just arrived here and I swear I didn't do anything with the Force I was just walking-"
"On Tatooine?" Yoda turned off his lightsaber but his eyes were still narrowed. "From the beginning, you should start."
The Force had been antsy for the past few days, building to some unknown crescendo, so Mace Windu had scheduled a meeting with Yoda. The moment he'd walked in the room, however, he found himself transported to some other realm. He was on his hands and knees in the sand, a padawan braid hanging from his head.
The hair was a sandy brown and the skin pale. Not time travel into his own past, then.
It was also no vision, as he could control his movements. Some sort of other opportunity of the Force.
He rose. Ah. A heavily injured woman was tied up in front of him.
"You're not my son," she whispered.
"I am Jedi Master Mace Windu," he replied. "Though I'm not sure whose body I was thrown into."
She didn't reply immediately. Mace wasn't inclined to wait and untied her. He wasn't much of a healer, but the Force surged at his request and flowed into the woman's body. Her bones straightened and set, her organs slid into their original shapes with a sigh, and the wounds on her skin closed up, chasing out the remnants of infection. She'd need time with the healers, but she was not in acute danger anymore.
"Come," he said. She was emaciated and easy to carry.
They slipped out of the tent and what was a camp of a type Mace didn't recall seeing before under the cover of darkness. He led them over the sands in a direction the Force told would have shelter.
"Where are we?" Mace asked once they'd passed a dune-covered rock he judged sufficient to block sound.
"Do you not know?" the woman asked.
"I was at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and the Force was not kind enough to tell me where I would be flung." He stepped around the range of a sand snake and considered his predicament. "Actually, would you mind telling me the date."
The woman looked at him assessingly. Mace felt himself be probed with the Force. "I am Shmi Skywalker and we are on Tatooine," she said. She then gave the date in the Hutt standard; if time travel was involved, it was limited to the range of days.
"There's a shelter to our right, Lady Skywalker," Mace said. "You can rest there."
Shmi made an unhappy noise of acknowledgement. She must've noticed herself starting to slow down.
Shmi Skywalker. A powerful Force sensitive from Tatooine. It did not take a genius to figure out who her son might be, nor whose body Mace had been tossed into.
The shelter the Force had suggested was not quite a cave: a rocky outcropping protected it from above, and something had split it so that there was a wide crevice the two of them could sit in. Deeper in, there was a lizard family of some sort. The region they could use was unoccupied.
Mace took a canteen from his belt and offered it to Shmi. While she drank, he settled down to probe the Force.
The Force danced at his slightest probe and did not so much whisper its secrets to him as shout. Everything was louder and brighter and whispered of power, the length of his reach and the reach of his grasp. It took some concentration to tune it out. He made note to test meditation techniques in case Anakin still needed advice on that; Mace's only recollection of his training was that he'd had trouble with the basic starting meditation back when he'd come to the Jedi.
"Do you live nearby?" Mace asked once he'd exited the light trance. The Force did not let go as it usually did.
Shmi's expression and mood grew complicated. "Closer than the nearest city."
A less caring man might've brought her home, but the Force had brought Mace here for a reason. "You do not want to go there."
Shmi flinched. "I... No." She stared at her hands. Mace could feel the resentment coil around her before she stuffed it deep inside her in a manner eerily similar to her son.
"Then I'll bring you somewhere else," Mace said. "I assume Anakin came with some manner of spaceship. Is there anyone who would seek you out?"
"My ... husband, I suppose." Shmi's mouth twisted. "He bought me and freed me, but the explosive is still there, ready to be reactivated, and where else could I go, living on a farm in the middle of nowhere and with him accompanying me whenever I went anywhere?"
"If I tell him you succumbed to your injuries, will he demand to see the body?"
Shmi thought for a moment. "Tell him I'd been hacked to pieces and you had to bury me in the desert. When he asks about the Tuskens, say you killed them."
Mace nodded gravely. Tatooine was in Hutt space. Expecting it to have a functioning judicial system would've been an exercise in foolishness. And without justice, sentients went for vengeance.
"If Anakin spoke to them, they will notice the difference," Shmi warned him.
"Don't worry, Lady Skywalker. I am an excellent actor."
"This is where Mace lives," Depa Billaba said as she opened the door to Master Windu's quarters.
The rooms were a similar layout to Anakin's own, though the shape was slightly different due to the Temple being a mishmash of varying structures, most of which predated the Republic. The kitchen-living room combination was slightly larger and the bedroom looked to be slightly smaller. The décor was different, too, with more dark wood and no droid parts whatsoever. "Um. Thank you, Master Billaba."
She rolled her eyes. "Please call me Depa."
"What if I get into the habit and screw up once I'm in my own body?" Anakin blurted out.
Master Billaba shut the door behind them. "I will grant you permission to call me Depa on one condition."
"What is that?"
Master Billaba leaned in conspiratorially. "While Mace will wear almost anything on stage, he only really wears Jedi robes at home."
Anakin felt a grin creep up on his face as he realized where this was going. "So..."
"So I need a picture of him meditating in a giant pink floppy hat."
"Deal," Anakin instantly replied.
Depa nodded. "Excellent. Let me grab the supplies."
Mace managed to smuggle Shmi onto the Nabooan ship without anyone noticing, and acted convincingly grieved for the Larses. Senator Amidala was present – Mace supposed dragging her off to Tatooine would get the assassins off her trail, especially if her decoys were deployed – and no-one was Force sensitive, so no-one save Mace noticed the amusement from the spaceship while they held Shmi Skywalker's funeral. Then he felt shock and concern from the ship, and cut the rest of the visit short.
"Anakin, please, what's wrong?" Amidala asked. "They're your family. Surely you should spend more time with them!"
Anakin Skywalker had, apparently, spent all of fifteen minutes with the Larses, who had kept his mother trapped in something that had been a definite upgrade from slavery but still something no-one should be subject to. "The Force called," Mace said in lieu of an explanation.
Shmi was out of sight when they entered; Mace thought she might be in the refresher. The droid, R2-D2, beeped and projected a recorded holomessage showing Knight Kenobi doing what he did best: getting captured.
"We have to go rescue him!" Senator Amidala said. Her obstinate passion blasted across Mace in the Force.
"Senator-"
"He's the only family you have left!" She did not mention that less than an hour ago, the Larses had counted as Anakin's family. "You told me he was the closest thing you had to a father!"
Mace closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Senator Amidala-"
He was interrupted by the ship's navicomputer beeping and the engines humming to life. "We're going to Geonosis," Amidala declared.
Mace sighed. "Senator, by going to Geonosis, you have defeated the entire point of Padawan Skywalker protecting you. Obi-Wan Kenobi is there because he was tracking down your assailants. It is highly likely that those who want you dead are also on Geonosis."
Amidala snapped. "If you think I will cower in some corner while others fight-" She frowned. "Wait. You're not Anakin."
The ship jumped to hyperspace. Mace inclined his head. "Indeed. Some twist of the Force transported me from my own body to Anakin's. I am Jedi Master Mace Windu."
"You couldn't have told Anakin's family?" Amidala asked. "You went to his mother's-"
Shmi Skywalker chose that moment to exit the refresher. "Have we left Tatooine yet?" she asked.
"We are in hyperspace, headed for Geonosis," Mace told her.
Amidala stared at Shmi wide-eyed. "But..." She turned to face Mace. "How dare you lie to the Larses!"
"How else was I supposed to escape?" Shmi snapped. "I was dying there! I wanted to leave, but couldn't."
"But Cliegg loved you!"
Mace took a deep breath and tried to tune out Shmi not so patiently explaining the concept of unwanted marriages to Senator Amidala. Obi-Wan was on Geonosis, held captive somewhere. With Anakin's connection to the Force and teenage joints, Mace knew he'd be able to rescue Obi-Wan. The issue was Senator Amidala and to a lesser extent Shmi Skywalker. Amidala at least would insist on doing something rash and foolish like try and accompany him, so he'd have to divert her urges.
"Senator," Mace interrupted the argument. "How good a pilot are you?"
Geonosis was red and dusty, and the Geonosians' tunnels narrow and twisty. Anakin's preternaturally sensitive connection to the Force nonetheless led Mace true. He'd have to give Anakin some tutoring; a bit of practice and the youth could be the greatest Jedi of his generation.
The Force bluntly told him that he'd need to draw his lightsaber. He boggled at how loud it was as he drew Anakin's and limbered himself up.
It was amazingly fun to be in a nineteen-year-old body again. Nothing twinged when he moved and none of the joints ached.
Obi-Wan was being held a force field in the middle of a circular room. Mace slid in and scanned the room for an off switch.
"I told you not to come," Obi-Wan snapped. "Really, Anakin, are you so idiotic you can't obey a direct order?"
"Who else would rescue you?" Mace asked. The off switch was at the base of the pedestal, just out of Obi-Wan's line of sight. Standard practice for containing Jedi.
The door whooshed open behind him. "Anakin Skywalker," Dooku said. "Here to join your master, I presume."
"Count Dooku." Mace gravely inclined his head. "I hope you are about to explain that this is all a grave misunderstanding."
Dooku scoffed. "Oh, nothing of that sort." He began circling around Mace. "The Republic is hopelessly corrupt – though I shouldn't waste breath trying to break through your thick skull. Your Master has heard it all and will come around in time." He drew a lightsaber he should not have. "You, however, are extraneous."
He lit his saber. The blade was red and the kyber screamed at what had been done to it.
"No!" Obi-Wan yelled.
Mace lit Anakin's saber. He and Anakin were roughly the same height, and while Anakin's blade was blue, the saber itself was well-constructed and more than adequate for the upcoming task. "You're working for the Sith."
"And so is your precious Council," Dooku replied and threw himself at Mace with a Makashi opener Anakin would not have faced.
Mace Windu, however, had faced the Makashi opener more than once, and was in fact one of the few people in the Jedi Temple who could consistently defeat Dooku. Any disadvantage he might've accrued from inhabiting someone else's body was more than offset by Anakin being nineteen and extremely Force-sensitive and Dooku having no idea he wasn't facing a teenage padawan but an accomplished Master of the Order. Mace parried his first strike, slid to the side of the second, and before Dooku could strike a third time, Mace had decapitated him with one of Vaapad's finishing moves.
"What?" Obi-Wan asked behind him.
"There's a Nabooan cruiser waiting for us." Mace flicked off the containment field and after a second's thought clipped Dooku's red saber to his belt. "Come."
"Who are you and what have you done to my padawan?" Obi-Wan demanded.
"I'm Mace Windu and the Force saw fit to swap us around."
Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh Force."
"Exactly. Now come."
Anakin stared at Master Windu's kitchen. He'd scrubbed the stovetop until it shone, the backsplash was spotless, and he'd even cleaned the oven. Officially, Master Windu had acquired a stomach bug, so his various workshops and clubs were being taught by other people; while this meant Anakin didn't have to pretend to be Master Windu, it did mean he had nothing to do but stew in his anxiety whenever Depa wasn't bringing some ever more ridiculous outfit for some photoshoot of a banal activity. As he couldn't just bring in droid parts to fiddle around with, he had turned to stress baking and stress cleaning.
"Is there any chance I could bribe you to clean my quarters, too?" Depa asked wistfully.
"Maybe later?" Anakin hazarded. Depa Billaba found him amusing, and he didn't quite know what to do with the positive attention.
"Is there something I could barter with?" she asked. "A topic you need extra tutoring in? A permit of some sort?"
"Actually, a permit would-"
Anakin was rudely interrupted by the Force throwing him to his knees. His hands hit red sand.
"Mace?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Uh, no." Anakin noticed a bunch of angry insectoids with guns coming at them. Then he spotted the Nabooan spaceship, loading ramp down, and Padmé shooting at the insectoids through the entry. "Come!"
"Anakin? Thank Force you're back – Senator Amidala?" Obi-Wan stumbled in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you," Padmé snapped back. "Get in the ship!"
Anakin dragged Obi-Wan inside and rushed to the pilot's seat. His mom was sitting in the copilot's seat with a delighted grin on her face. "Hi mom. Let's get us out of here." He pressed the button to close the ramp. "Get in, everyone!"
"Who's that? What have you been doing, Anakin?" Obi-Wan demanded.
"I deep-cleaned Master Windu's kitchen." The ship lifted off. "Hold on tight!"
Obi-Wan started to say something, but was drowned out by the engine's whine and his own scream once Anakin began evasive measures in earnest. Anakin gunned the engines and felt more alive than he had in a long time.
Mace Windu opened his eyes to what was definitely the Jedi Temple and might possibly have been his kitchen except it was definitely not how he had left it. A cursory probe with the Force confirmed that this was his own body, with all its age-brought aches, and his own connection to the Force.
"Welcome back, Master," Depa said.
"Did you put Anakin up to this?" Mace asked, nodding at the suspiciously clean kitchen.
Depa folded her hands in her sleeves. "Oh no, he did it completely unprompted."
Mace stared at the kitchen. He could see his own face mirrored on the backsplash. "Ah."
"Can I steal him?"
"Talk to Obi-Wan," Mace replied. He poked around the kitchen. Anakin had even taken care of the minor biohazard at the back of the fridge. "Though I have some ideas on things to teach him, now that I've had the chance to see the world through his connection to the Force."
"So we're borrowing him."
"Yes, I suppose you could refer to it like that." Depa nodded. As her former Master, however, Mace saw a suspicious twinkle in her eye. He sighed. "Depa. What did you talk him into?"
Depa grinned. "Well..."