Anakin felt himself being pulled harshly onto his feet as the sound of blaster fire returned to the forefront of his perception. The abbreviated fall he took with his men wasn't what was making his senses churn – the clones, in fact, were already up and running for cover to fire back at the unrelenting Sand Wraiths. It was the sudden break in the Force that Anakin felt just before they all dropped: it was like being slapped in the face by a brick of concrete, a dark abyss of toil and ruin that in an instant blinked back to normalcy. ...Relative normalcy, anyway, because the Force was once again replete with fear and dread mixed liberally with tenacity and heroism – the pervasive aura of the ongoing war. It might have even been comforting, in a morbid sort of way, were it not for the gaping hole that appeared earlier in the day where Obi-Wan's Force signature was meant to be. Something disgusting had wormed its way into that void, Anakin remembered. He ignited his lightsaber against the incoming spray of bolts. That was sacred ground in the Force, now tarnished. Through the past eight days he'd writhed in passive obedience, sitting quietly as his Master's signature dwindled from warm vitality to tepid distress to cold vacancy. He now discovered that there was evidently a negative value one's place in the Force could assume. Someone had to pay for this.
He dashed ahead through flying red beams and flecks of raining rock. The Nikto redoubled their aim his way, no doubt motivated by the fearful sight of a raging Jedi barreling into their ranks. He deflected the chain bolts of a turret to his left with a wide slash, spinning hard on his heel to catch the next wave of bolts coming in from behind. One Nikto fled and dove behind a barrier before the redirected shots detonated at his station. The others weren't as agile. Still in motion, Anakin scanned the hazy field for a new set of targets. His eyes locked onto the far barrier partially occluded in the dust where shots were scattering back toward the clones. He made to rush the structure with a Force-assisted leap over the front, but stopped and veered sharply when the other side of the tank came into view. Through the blanketing sand in the air Anakin spotted Cody, devoid of any cover, firing his rarely-employed blaster pistol with one hand while dragging away the crumpled form of Obi-Wan in the other.
Anakin charged. He disregarded all thought of strategy, enemy formation or defensive posture, and ran. Cody narrowly avoided shooting him through the back when he materialized from nowhere in front of the two, lightsaber blazing at the ready to deflect. The tank nearby was still dangerously operational, though sparking from one end and sending fumes out the other. Cody had ordered it become the 212th's priority target so he could stand a chance at rescuing their General. He currently limped backward on a wounded leg over the battlefield, though by his plan he succeeded in not being blown away yet by heavy artillery. The backup from Anakin was a godsend. Cody dropped his aim immediately and crouched to lift Obi-Wan over his shoulder, rather than continue pulling inefficiently by his wrist.
"Obi-Wan!" called Anakin over his shoulder. No response came from behind, save for a belabored grunt from Cody when he shifted the weight of his General onto himself. Nothing more needed to be said. Cody staggered back toward the clones, and Anakin moved with him. He adjusted his position around the two at each consecutive shot parried, dutifully maximizing his use as a shield while Cody pledged full focus on getting to the nearest cover as soon as possible. They might not have agreed with one another in their preferred methods of dealing with Obi-Wan when he was conscious, but in the present circumstances, Anakin and Cody found they were of exactly the same mind. On reaching the nearest clone-occupied boulder, Cody knelt and deposited his burden in the shade against the rock. They were each surrounded by clones in the seconds that followed. "Treat- Treat the General," rasped Cody, sparing himself a few precious moments on the ground to curtail the throbbing in his leg. Anakin could practically hear the absent protests of his Master. His silence was sickening.
"I'll do everything I can, sir," Kix's voice rang anxiously, already abandoning his gun for his kit, "but we need to get out of here. I can already tell this isn't going to end well for either of you without proper equipment and care."
Anakin seethed. He wanted to order Kix to make it end well. Against his better judgement, he stole a glance down toward the scene during a break in the enemy's fire. Cody gripped his armored thigh in one hand, already fumbling to collect the rifle from his back to finish the fight. Kix knelt close at Obi-Wan's side, tilting his head up gently to administer a hypospray to his neck. Blood was staining much of Obi-Wan's face, Anakin noticed then, painting over layers of desert grime accumulated for Force knows how long. His robes were charred, to boot – had there been there another explosion today? A second clone from the 212th that Anakin didn't recognize seemed to be trying to get at something underneath Obi-Wan's chestplate. His hands came away bloody as he reached for a pair of forceps, and Anakin grew still. His gaze fixed rigidly onto the copious, greasy red where it drained fresh from the demolished image of his Master. Something dark began to stir in the Force. Something foul and familiar stretched out its long, pale, bony fingers of corruption and twisted them heinously, yet seductively into his mind. He fought. Anakin fought furiously within himself to stave away the whispers of the dark side, but hard as he tried, he could not drive away the image of his mother, superimposed on Obi-Wan where she lay brutalized in so much the same setting.
The Sand Wraiths weren't so different from the Tusken Raiders, now that Anakin considered. Vicious, pointless packs of feral animals, a collection of venomous parasites to be eradicated like any other disease. His mother fell victim to their plague before he had the chance to save her. And now they would infect Obi-Wan, too. Anakin changed. The tension in his stance ebbed away, giving birth to an eerie calm that belied the murderous intent hidden just beneath the surface. They can try, he challenged. In that moment, the ever-present teachings of the Jedi were mute. He stepped out from behind the rock. The next shot fired in his direction determined the location of his first prey. He dodged the beam effortlessly, thanking the anonymous Nikto in silence for inviting him to come meet with his friends.
The first group was ambushed where they sat clustered behind a welded metal barrier. When Anakin descended upon them from behind, they all cried out and fled in simultaneity, though not one of them was able to overcome his speed. Anakin tore from one startled Nikto to the next, cleaving heads and limbs alike until nothing remained that moved. The northmost pair of assault walkers was met with a similar fate. The legs of their vehicles were each slashed to inoperability, leaving the pilots to escape the wreckage or die within it. One pilot broke into a sprint to the south: abandoning the battle or running to fetch support, his intent was inconsequential when he was suddenly snatched up at the throat by a pair of hands he could not see. Anakin felt the bubble of fear in his place finally pop as he walked purposefully in pursuit of the other fleeing pilot. There was no need to kill the other one just yet. That one ran further into the battlefield. That one would lead him to more Sand Wraiths.
It soon became apparent to everyone that the Nikto had fallen defensive. Those who Anakin did not kill outright ran away terrified from the cover he invaded, and were shortly thereafter picked off by the clones. By the time only one speeder remained, four of the enemy surviving clambered upon it and rode hastily into the horizon. Anakin frowned. He lifted one of the Nikto's salvaged barriers with a domineering wave in the Force, then sent it after them with bewildering velocity. The emptied arena was quiet. Within moments, the silence was pricked by the distant sound and sight of a speeder's fierce, orange explosion. He whirled his saber in a satisfied circle. Anakin then made ready to dash ahead toward the wreckage and ensure the quality of his work. His frenzy was terminated before he could leave, when the most authoritative, condemning voice he knew roared over the front. He froze. An ocean torrent doused the dark fire swirling in a veil over his ability to reason.
"Anakin!" he heard the voice repeat. His head swiveled to attention. Far across the field at the side of the boulder he'd visited maybe forever ago, Obi-Wan called to him while he struggled to break free of the insistent hold of two clones.
Anakin gasped. "Master!" he shouted in return, heeding none of the pain nor reprimand surging into the Force. "You're alive!" Then, as if he hadn't just slaughtered almost forty Nikto, an unrestrained grin bloomed over his face and he bounded in the opposite direction he'd originally intended. The journey became much less cheerful when a third clone had to step in to help lower Obi-Wan to the ground in order to save him from collapsing.
