The sound of Anakin's rapid footfalls was inaudible amidst the chaos of the rain, thunder, and blaster fire pervading Tipoca city. Fighting on Kamino was never easy – in addition to the near-constant downpours, each city was composed of disparate, saucer-like stations connected by a branching network of bridges. The layout made it impossible to command a battle from a single position. Anakin had no choice but to trust his troops' individual leadership, separated on different platforms to regain control of the city from all sides. For the time being, the landing platform Anakin took alone was cleared. But through the murky shrouds of rain, he could still see red and blue lights flickering over the remaining stations. The distance was too far to jump, with or without the Force. His only option was to pass through the main station to reach the next bridge. The lightsaber hummed fiercely in his cybernetic palm.
The neighboring station was saturated in crossfire. Ignoring the B1 battle droids in front, Anakin leapt behind the neat enemy lines to dispatch the B2s in back. B2 super droids tended to give his clones more trouble, and he was entirely unsurprised to see that in the time it took him to cleave the final B2, not a single B1 was left standing up front. Just as he brought a hand to his mouth to amplify some well-deserved praise back to his troops, a terrible groaning sound of metal on metal rent through the atmosphere. Anakin's attention shot west. The next station over was slowly careening downward into the raging waters, hungry tidal waves clawing it into the ocean. It was one of the stations whose base support beams had been compromised before the ground assault – a covert Separatist operation discovered too late by the Jedi. He growled a curse as he watched the mammoth structure begin to fall. The bridge connecting it to the main station was twisting and cracking under the strain. It would be the third station lost today. There was nothing he could do.
In that moment, a single rolling ball of blazing blue shot from the roof of the main station. It arced impossibly high, finally striking the doomed station's dome rooftop with grace and precision. That old flame of childhood hero worship sparked inside Anakin when he saw the crouching figure emerge from its landing stance, holding both arms out in front. Steadily, and with great protest, the falling station came to a halt. Obi-Wan, thought Anakin, knowing no further words were needed to fully express the magnitude of his admiration. The two droidekas that subsequently rolled onto the failing bridge from the main station stole away his attention immediately. Both droids unfurled simultaneously and trained their barrels on Obi-Wan. With a quick glance back to his Master, Anakin knew that the focus required to keep the entire station from falling must be consuming every midichlorian in his blood. Obi-Wan wouldn't notice the droidekas.
With equal measures of haste and rage, Anakin struck out far into the Force, scraping for every last bit of power he could put behind his left palm. The distance might be too much. The droidekas might fire. Obi-Wan might be killed. At times like these – times of looming disaster teetering on an instant's decision – such thoughts served as fuel: recognizing the direness of a situation could kindle that extra boost of strength that Anakin knew too well often determined the fate of battle. The surge in the Force burst outward from Anakin's palm. One second of torturous anticipation later, the first droideka catapulted off to the side, smacking into the second with a distant crunch before continuing its flight over the bridge and into the violent depths below. Anakin opened his eyes. He grinned in satisfaction. The remaining droideka, sparking and fuming, then turned its barrels in Anakin's direction. His grin dropped. "Better me than you right now," he muttered, and raised his saber to deflect the heavy bolts coming his way.
Droidekas fire hard. Deflecting blaster fire from a regular rifle often felt to Anakin something like hitting a compact ball with a hollow tube. It sent waves down his arms, became tiring after a while, but droideka fire was different. Anakin likened deflecting droideka fire to hitting an incoming speeder bike with a durasteel pipe. In between shots, he located a pair of tall storage crates to his right and began sidestepping toward them, keeping his posture facing the incoming bolts. By the time he'd managed to maneuver behind them, his saber hand was buzzing. He transferred the hilt to his left and shook out his false fingers with a deep breath to regain some feeling. In that short break, he heard the distinctive shearing sound of a lightsaber through droid. The shots hitting the crates stopped. Cautiously, he peered out from behind them, and found that where the second droideka stood, two sparking halves now laid inanimate on the bridge at the feet of Obi-Wan. The attack must have been instantaneous, because when Anakin looked, his Master was again stanced with intense focus, arms out, preventing the station's demise.
Anakin used the time sprinting toward Obi-Wan's location to check in on his troops via comm. Three out of five groups reported all clear on the platforms they were assigned. Anakin ordered they regroup in the main station to help the groups yet fighting, but each reported back that they'd already begun. Pride was generally discouraged in the ways of the Jedi, but if his voice happened to carry with it the gripping pride he felt for his clones then, he figured he'd pay for it later. Just then, a squad of B1s escorting a demolition droid opened onto the balcony encircling the main station ahead of Anakin. In his surprise, he skidded to a wet, slippery halt. His defensive form was wobbling and sloppy, but either by dumb luck or the overwhelming roar of water and gunfire outside, the squad took no notice as it turned to run in the same direction as Anakin. Relief washed over him, soon replaced by the realization of an idea so foolhardy he guessed he'd probably get a lecture out of it were his Master not so preoccupied.
He started at a dash. He made no attempt at stealth, his saber raised in both hands at his side with a smirk stretching across his face. Right when the droids in back turned their heads over their small, stiff shoulders, Anakin dropped to his back and propelled himself forward with the Force. The water soaking his robes allowed him to glide straight under the squad; all he had to do was whirl his lightsaber a bit. Emerging out from the squad in an uncontrolled slide, every droid crumpled in defeat behind him with an unanticipated lack of legs. Their combined mechanical whining was enough to make Anakin chortle in delight, even as he crashed into the balcony wall ahead and slipped twice rising back to his feet. He'd definitely be telling this one to Ahsoka.
The main station's balcony opened onto a wide exit where the bridge connecting the injured station began. Obi-Wan yet stood inert at the bridge center, his back facing Anakin. No droids. The tilted station up ahead might have even looked a little more upright than before. Help Obi-Wan put the station back up, then check the troops again to see where we're needed, he planned. With the first step onto the bridge, however, a terrible jolt of wrongness washed over him from the Force. Against his will, he stopped moving. Danger, the Force screamed at him, loud enough to drown out the ongoing battle. He had no explanation, but he knew that the ensuing danger was out there, while over here would be safe. That meant the danger wasn't for him. It was– "Obi-Wan!" he cried out through their bond, unsure of what he warned against. The shock rang through. Obi-Wan flinched. The station drooped through his grip in the Force. And in a flash of orange, everything went black.