The bitter cold of Winter's cold grip retreated from the heat of the repaired starfighter's engines. Wonderful heat filled the rock cave. It was a miracle that the engines worked at all, but Anakin's determination to have them fixed proved too much to deny. He'd been searching the wreckage of his ETA-2, pouring over the ancient starship for an idea of what needed repairs, and writing makeshift blueprints in the dirt of the cave.
His timing couldn't have been better. Not only had his food reserves been drained but all wild game went south to escape the cold. There weren't even footprints to find. It was as though nature itself told Anakin his time had come. The escape he desperately needed ws finished. His wounds had been healed, his mind no longer fractured. At one point it seemed as though he would be spiraling out of control, yet Anakin managed to find his bearings.
The visions from the private world in his mind pushed him forward. He couldn't get them out of his head. In his dreams Anakin heard Padme's reveal on repeat. They were inescapable, though he didn't mind that. The revelation provided the motivation to move forward in his life.
Anakin hungered to see more, however, the energy needed to pursue those glimpses of the future was long gone. To learn more Anakin required more. To have any chance of seeing his children he had to leave.
Before he settled into the cockpit of the starfighter, Anakin collected the artifacts. Every piece of armor, every holocron, every weapon, and even some remnants of clothing were stuffed into the storage compartment behind the cockpit. Triple checking ensured nothing would be left behind on the world.
Satisfied that all of the valuables were packed, Anakin climbed upon the sloped wing of the ship. He mustered his strength to settle into the brittle but workable seat. Some of the electronics worked while others lay dormant - dead from long ago. The controls responded to his touch, but the starchart only partially came to life. Half of the chart was covered by a black screen. The second half would be enough; he recognized the names of several systems from the archives back on Coruscant.
Anakin gripped the controls of the ship once he set course for the nearest inhabited system. He pulled back on the yolk. The starfighter shook violently, irritated it had been woken from its eon-long sleep. The ship was at rest for so long that it was a miracle it didn't fall apart upon ignition. Hesitantly, it responded to Anakin's command, lifting gently off of the cavern floor, escaping through the gaping hole at the top of the cave, and limping towards the unknown planet's atmosphere.
Through the windows of the cockpit Anakin watched the planet shrink. The planet proved to be a valuable home when he needed one most. Perhaps in time he'd return to make it some sort of forretress or hideaway.
The vision brought to him through foresight made it clear he'd come back sooner or later.
The dark abyss of space greeted Anakin with its cold, lonely touch. He took in the lonesome silence, reminding him that the journey he set out for was his own. Padme, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Artoo were nowhere to be seen. In the end, it was how it always was; Anakin had to rely on himself, his own power to get him to where he desired. Without them nothing held him back. While Anakin was free from the chains of others he was slave to his own limitations and emotions.
He sighed and pressed the coordinates for the closest non-aligned outpost. The ship trembled and quaked under the expectation of its journey. Its hyperdrive high-pitched whine filled the cockpit of the ship. Anakin closed his eyes as the ship reached its climax of sound and shake, wondering if he'd make it to the jump let alone the planet. With a violent lurch, the ship leapt forward.
The ancient ship unexpectedly fell from hyperspace. Every piece of metal that made the ship came alive. The nuts, bolts, paneling, and electronics fought to stay together, but the threat of coming apart became great.
The racket mustered Anakin from his sleep. He picked his head up to see the lights in the cockpit beginning to dim. He felt the vibrations seeping into his bones from the ship around him. Sweat pooled in his palms. His heart thundered against his ribs. The ship was too far into space for him to find a place to land or to find repairs.
Immediately, Anakin reached for the controls and powered down the starfighter. The engines slowed, the shaking simmered, and the metal fell back into its slumber, however, Anakin was certain the calm was far from permanent.
He calmed his breathing as the ship settled. As soon as the ship came to a halt the cold began to creep in. Anakin's breath turned to fog in minutes. His hands trembled just as quickly.
Motion captured Anakin's attention. Outside of the cockpit window, a pair of ARC-170s flew towards his decapacitated starfighter. Further beyond lay the familiar cylindrical shape of a Galactic Republic outpost. At best the clone pilots would tow him back towards the station, question him, and he may be able to lie through it - after all, he was a far cry from the appearance he was known by. At worst he'd be stunned and brought back to Coruscant.
The pair of ARC-170s flew around his starfighter, circling in search of a threat. There was no mistaking the hostile maneuvers they took. Out there, among the borders of known space, an unknown ship meant danger. Clearly, the commander of the station wasn't going to take the chance.
A decision had to be made; attack or give in. Anakin had no desire to be brought back to the Republic, humiliated and as a prisoner. Similarly, he wouldn't attack the clones. What had they ever done besides lay down their lives for a cause they didn't choose to fight for?
If the time came to make the ultimate choice, he'd rather lay down his life than take those of Rex's brothers and his friends.
The ship shuttered. A link cable magnetized, attaching the ancient starfighter to the newer Republic ARC-170s. Slowly, cautious not to break the link or to tear apart the ship, the clones towed Anakin towards the outpost.
With nothing left to do he made for the artifacts and did his best to hide them somewhere inside of the ship. While he made a silent oath to spare the lives of the innocent clones, Anakin would not give up the treasures brought with him. In the hands of the Jedi the knowledge would be lost forever, disappearing inside of a vault in the archives or destroyed entirely. Moreover, if the Council discovered the Sith powers inside, then his life may be forfeit.
The ARCs guided Anakin's starfighter in the outpost's docking bay. They brought down the ancient ship to the metal floor. Seven armed clone troopers waited for him to step down.
"Pilot," the clone commander, who wore a light green stripe on his shoulder, called over the intercom, "open the cockpit and climb down."
Anakin obeyed the order, lest he cause suspicion. He rested his hand on the exterior of the ship and tried to lower himself down, however, his muscle mass had deteriorated beyond his knowledge. His arms began to shake and collapsed underneath the weight. The steel provided no cushioning to the fall. Pain shot upwards from Anakin's legs to his back. Stars flashed on the backs of his eyes. Instinctively, he reached for his legs.
Anakin felt the gloved hands of the clones reach for him. They handled him with as much tenderness as they could. From what he heard the commander gave orders for the clones to bring him to the infirmary. Not one said his name.
"Lay him down," the commander told his men.
Anakin felt the gentle touch of a cool mattress.
The pain rippled upwards from his leg, burning the nerves.
More words were thrown around, but Anakin couldn't discern them. He felt the tinges of unconsciousness flooding in.
A medical droid at the bedside assessed him. "He is very malnourished. The right leg is broken."
"Fix him," the commander demanded.
What happened next Anakin missed as his body slid into unconsciousness.
Aayla Secura pulled her ship out of lightspeed. The streaks of light fell back to their usual form of white dots in the endless void of space. She'd never been so far out in space before. Admittedly, it was rather beautiful in its solitude. Outside of the hulking mass of steel that made up the Republic outpost, that sector had nothing.
She pressed the blinking red button on her console. "Republic outpost four-one-four, this is Jedi Master Aayla Secura requesting permission to dock."
A minute passed. Then another. Aayla waited patiently for the commander to reply.
"Republic outpost," she repeated in an even tone, "this is Jedi Master Aayla Secura requesting permission to dock."
Four minutes passed.
"Master Secura, please proceed to the main hangar bay."
Pressing forward on the yolk of her craft, Aayla brought the ship forward. It was unlike the clones to give in to unnecessary delays. Perhaps something had fallen into disrepair and it needed mending before she landed. Out in the depths of space she assumed it was possible that certain things degraded without notice. After all, who traveled this far?
Aayla entered the hangar and set the ship down with ease.
The clones seemed to be going about their usual business, however, off to the left stood several engineers. They were in awe of something Aayla couldn't quite see. She bent forward to peer around the edge of the cockpit, but it evaded her. Curious as to what the engineers were studying, Aayla made her way out of the ship.
Several clones saluted her as her feet hit the floor. The commander stepped forward to her and she saluted in return.
"Master Secura," he greeted in his military politeness, "we weren't expecting any visitors this afternoon. What brings you so far out here?"
"I've been told this outpost has reported an ETA-2 class starfighter," she said in an effort to keep her real prize hidden. "I'm searching for it."
The commander furrowed his brow. "We haven't seen anything out here except for yourself and that," he informed her.
Aayla followed his gesture to the battered, decrepit ancient starfighter. The engineers still stood in awe of it.
"To be frank, Master Secura, we haven't got the slightest idea what it is. It came out of hyperspace during our gravity well test. Two of my men towed it back here to investigate it."
"It was by itself?"
"There's a pilot who's pretty beaten up and in bad shape. Probably hasn't eaten a good meal in weeks. Broke his leg, sprained an ankle, and passed out from the pain. The medical droid has him healing at the moment."
The Force became charged at the commander's words. It was as though a current rippled through it, and Aayla paid close attention to its silent hint. Through the good graces of the Force she may have found her prize.
Malnourished, frail, and flying a makeshift craft. All of it pointed to Anakin Skywalker. She knew he was talented when it came to mechanics - he may be the greatest pilot in the Galactic Republic after all. It would not be out of the question for him to procure a cheap craft, repair it, then escape to the outer rim.
"Did you catch a name?"
The clone shook his head. "Not yet. Didn't get anything from him before he passed out."
"Would you take me to him?" she asked. "I'm very interested in seeing this mysterious pilot."
A/N: That's it for part one of this saga! There's plenty more on the way, but this story is going on a little bit of a hiatus to work on a couple of newer stories - if you're interested in them, one is a Rebels story and the other is completely new being a story about Batman's third Robin, Tim Drake - and to grow a bit of my skill in other genres. This story, at the moment, is a bit more drama. I want to work on romance, action, and suspense a little as well. That way, when I add part II, this story will have plenty more depth. Thanks for all of the support so far! Merry Christmas.