Explosions in the sky were something Anakin had become unfortunately accustomed to during his time with the GAR. It was less common for them to occur during cleanup than actual battle, but still not unheard of.

They weren't usually accompanied by equally massive explosions in the Force, though.

Pain. Love. Hate. Fear. Desperation. Shame. Relief. Regret. Grief. Revenge. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Darkness. Death. Light that burned. The shockwave of emotions nearly knocked him flat. Anakin's eyes went wide; his mechanical hand clenched into a fist. He leaned against a nearby speeder to steady himself.

Whoever was projecting those things, they were powerful. More powerful than anyone else he'd ever sensed.

His comm beeped, a shaky voice coming over the line. Obi-Wan. "Anakin. Anakin, are you there?"

Swallowing–when did his mouth get so dry?–Anakin tapped his microphone. "Yeah, I'm here. What's up?"

"I… I'm not sure. I just felt a powerful… something. I thought you were in trouble."

A flicker of movement caught Anakin's eye, causing him to hesitate in his response. Something was falling from the sky where he'd seen the explosion. A shuttle or fighter of some sort; it was still too far away for him to see exactly what kind. It was coming in hot, though. Too hot. It was going to crash.

"Anakin?"

Shaking his head, Anakin forced a small smile, even though he knew Obi-Wan couldn't see it. "Sorry. I'm still here. No, that wasn't me. I don't know what it was. But whoever or whatever caused that, I think their ship is crashing. I'll go investigate."

He'd already swung himself up onto the speeder he was leaning on by the time Obi-Wan had a chance to speak again. "Wait! Anakin! Where are you? It could be a trap! Ahsoka and I will bring the troops up in case you need backup."

"Don't worry, Master. I'll be fine." Good. The speeder was fully charged.

"Even so…"

Anakin would never admit it, but sometimes it was touching that his former master still worried about him. Sometimes it was annoying, though. At the moment, he found it a bit of both. "I'm at 41°24'12.2"N 2°10'26.5"E. The ship is crashing just north of me."

"Alright. We'll be there as soon as possible. Oh, and Anakin?"

"Yes?"

"Do be careful. Whoever that was, whatever that was…"

Now Anakin was a little bit worried. Obi-Wan wasn't usually so hesitant. "Yes?"

"They… Don't take this the wrong way, but it felt like they may be more powerful than even you."

A retort that raw power wasn't everything died on Anakin's lips. Because really, how often had Obi-Wan said the same thing to him when they sparred? Instead, Anakin kicked the speeder into gear with a small frown.

"Don't worry, Master. I'll be as careful as the situation allows."

Krrr-BOOOOM!

A mushroom of orange and gold lit the sky as the crashing ship came down just outside of a ruined warehouse, its engines exploding on impact. Anakin couldn't suppress a wince at the sight and sound. Unless everyone aboard was really lucky, he was about to be investigating casualties rather than a Force anomaly.

He jumped off the speeder before it had even come to a full stop, the machine skidding away to rest against the warehouse wall as Anakin jogged towards the burning wreck. And oh kriff, it was a wreck. The shuttle wasn't a kind Anakin recognized, but that could have been because there wasn't much left to recognize. He saw some scraps of wings and fuselage that had been torn off during its explosive entry into the atmosphere, but the majority of the machine was visible only as a mass of melting metal and golden flames as it burned from the inside out.

It was almost too hot to approach. Anakin could feel his face turning red from the heat.

A fragment of the cockpit had torn away as the ship broke up; miraculously, Anakin could sense two living Force signatures inside. Both felt… exhausted, weak, and in turmoil. One wasn't moving at all, and the other only barely.

Bzzzew!

Anakin lit his sabre and cut through the wall of the broken cockpit rather than looking for an existing opening. Whoever was in there, he had to get them out, fast. The fire was spreading, catching on debris, and would make its way to the cockpit soon enough. And the one Force signature, the one that wasn't moving… Whoever that was, Anakin was pretty sure they were dying.

"Hold on!" he called out, hoping the people inside could hear him, "Help is on the way!"

Krrrrscreeech!

Finally, finally, he'd cut through enough of the metal to peel it back like a door. The wall screeched in protest, making Anakin wince.

What he saw inside made him wince more.

Lying on the floor was a… man? Anakin thought it was a man, at least. The man could generously be described as alive, in that he was still breathing faintly, but other than that… His head–the only part of his body that was properly visible–seemed to be 90% scar tissue, without a single hair to call even his eyebrows home. All four of his limbs were clearly prosthetics, and badly damaged at that. Fresh wounds, probably electrical burns, spiderwebbed over and through the older scars. Blue eyes, pale as ice, were barely visible between lids that appeared unable to fully open or close.

Yep, Anakin was 100% sure that one would die without immediate treatment. Hopefully Obi-Wan and the others got there soon.

Bzzzew!

The familiar–and unexpected–noise brought Anakin's attention to the other occupant of the cockpit. A petite young man crouched over the dying cyborg, trembling with exhaustion as one shaking hand held a lightsabre between himself and Anakin. Like the cyborg, his visible skin was spiderwebbed with what seemed to be fresh electrical burns. He had a youthful, deceptively innocent face, with bright blue eyes peering out from under shaggy golden bangs.

His sabre, though, was anything but. The hilt was slightly too large for the young man's hand; its blade glowed dully red.

Anakin scowled. Was the boy a Sith? Reaching out with the Force, Anakin searched for anything that might tell him who these people were. Everything he could sense, though, was ragged and fragmented. Scraps of darkness and death and pain hung around the boy like a cloak and soaked through the cyborg to the core. But there were seeds of light and love as well. Maybe. It was hard to read anything from the dying cyborg, and the boy mostly reeked of confusion, exhaustion, and desperation.

"Who are you?" Anakin demanded, assuming a defensive stance in case the boy attacked.

Blinking, mouth moving like a fish, the boy–who really probably was a young man around Anakin's own age, but he just looked so young–stared fixedly at the blue blade. It took him about thirty seconds to find his words.

"Are you a Jedi?"

"Yes." Where had this kid been living that he didn't recognize the Hero with no Fear? "Are you a Sith?"

The boy's eyes flicked to the red lightsabre he was holding; he deactivated it with a quiet gasp, clipping it to his belt beside… another lightsabre. The hilt of the second looked much more well-suited to the boy's small frame; maybe the one he'd first used belonged to the cyborg. But the boy didn't answer Anakin's question. Instead…

"Please, are there any medical facilities nearby? My father's injured."

Father? Did Sith have fathers? Everyone had told him that Sith couldn't love. "I told you, help is on the way. Now answer my question."

The boy either ignored him or couldn't hear him properly. Either was possible, given the amount of pain radiating from him in waves. "I have to save him. He just saved me… I just got him back."

Standing, the boy wavered on his feet. He was even smaller than Anakin had first thought, barely taller than Padmé. Anakin pointed the blade of his sabre at him as the kid took a staggering step forwards.

"Hey! Stay where you are!"

"I have to get help…"

On the floor, the cyborg twitched,breaths rattling ever more faintly. His icy eyes rolled sideways, trying to focus on Anakin and the boy, but so hazy that Anakin couldn't be sure the man could see anything at all.

"Luke…"

The cyborg's voice was barely even a whisper. Even that single word caused a spike of pain in the Force from the dying man. A mechanical hand twitched, trying to reach out for his son, but lacking the strength.

"I'll get help, Father. I don't know where we are, but there has to be someone here who can help you."

Anakin's chest tightened. He knew this scene… He knew what it was like to be in Luke's position. But he couldn't let a Sith go running off. They were in the middle of a war!

"Luke? Is that your name? Look, just… stay there. I don't want to have to hurt you or your father, but I will if I have to. Help is on the way. Just… sit tight and answer my questions, okay?"

The boy–Luke–stared at him with eyes that were starting to glaze over with exhaustion. Then he raised a hand.

"I… Sorry… I need to get help. He's dying. Let me help him."

A wave of pressure hit Anakin in the chest as Luke shoved him with the Force. Caught off-guard–and wouldn't Obi-Wan be disappointed?–he fell back on his ass. And yeah, okay, that explosion in the Force he'd felt earlier had definitely been because of Luke. Probably his father, too, but kriff, the kid had some serious raw power.

Anakin got to his feet just as Luke emerged from the cockpit, laboriously carrying his dying father in some bizarre parody of a piggyback. It was almost funny, given how much taller the cyborg was than his son. Anakin levelled his sabre at the pair again.

They really weren't going to do this the easy way, were they?

"I said don't-!"

FWBOOOM!

The fires raging in the other parts of the crashed shuttle made contact with something that exploded. Anakin was thrown backwards yet again… And then had the wind knocked out of him as both Luke and his kriffing heavy cyborg father landed on top of him.

Gasping, Anakin's head lolled back as he tried to suck in air. Luke didn't seem to be able to get up under his own power anymore, and cyborg-dad wasn't helping either of them at all.

And then, suddenly, sweet freedom! The weight rose off Anakin's chest as the sound of marching feet reached his ears, along with the sight of some very familiar boots. Obi-Wan smirked down at him, Luke and the cyborg floating gently by his shoulder, cradled in the Force.

"Enjoying yourself, Anakin?"

"Always," Anakin gasped. It took him a few deep breaths before he was able to try getting back on his feet. He'd have to get Kix to check and make sure he hadn't broken any ribs.

Luke was staring at Obi-Wan dazedly, squirming against the Force that held him and his father in the air, but not truly struggling. "Please, we need a medic. My father's dying."

Kix stepped forwards on instinct at the word medic, but before he could volunteer himself, the cyborg croaked at his son in his eerie, rasping voice. Each word was again accompanied by a spike of pain.

"Luke… I said… I said you already saved me… You have… You have… I don't need…"

"But I still need you," the boy whispered quietly.

Obi-Wan gently set the pair down on a bit of road well away from their burning ship. "I'm sure you're trying to perform a very touching self-sacrifice, but the boy is right. You need a medic; you both do."

"Luke… First…"

Kix stepped up, eyebrow raised at his new patients. "With all due respect, whoever you are, but you are dying. He is not. The rules of triage state that you should be seen to first."

The cyborg opened his mouth to rasp out an argument, then closed it again without a word as recognition flashed in his pale eyes. Anakin couldn't help but smirk. It was good to know that his medic was so badass as to cow even cyborg Sith Lords.

Which…

Yeah, he should tell Obi-Wan about that.

"We need to keep them under watch." Anakin reached out and called Luke's sabres to his hands. The boy reacted clumsily, trying to grab the flying hilts without the Force, clearly too exhausted to do much more than flail.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

Anakin lit the sabre Luke had been holding when he first cut his way into the cockpit, revealing the dull red blade. "I think they're Sith. And I don't know about Mister Tin Man yet, but Luke is strong." Probably as strong as me.

Eyebrow rising even higher, Obi-Wan stroked his beard. "Interesting…I thought Dooku was the only Sith Lord currently living." Did he harm you?

Anakin shook his head. No. He pushed me back some, but I'm not hurt. He seems to be too tired to do anything much. But that would change, and they both knew it. Anakin frowned.

"Where's Ahsoka?"

"I'm here!" As if on cue, Anakin's padawan screeched in on a speeder, R2-D2 strapped to the passenger seat behind her. "I was just making sure we didn't leave Artooie behind; some of the locals giving him looks I didn't like."

"Good thinking." Anakin didn't know what he'd do if he lost Artoo. Little droid was a sass-bot, but he was the best copilot in the galaxy.

Swinging down from the speeder, Ahsoka frowned at Luke and his father. "Are they the source of the disturbance from earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Who are they?"

"I think they're Sith." Anakin frowned. They definitely looked like Sith, all in black and with a red sabre. "The young one's name is Luke; the cyborg is his father. Other than that, I don't know anything. They've been a bit… uncooperative."

Ahsoka closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Anakin could feel her reaching out in the Force. "They feel… Weird."

"Yeah…"

Kix was already loading the cyborg–who had just fallen unconscious–onto a speeder. "Sir, we need to get him back to the Resolute. Field medicine won't even be enough to stabilise these injuries, let alone treat them."

Luke fidgeted, having already climbed unbidden onto the same speeder as his father. "You can help him, though, can't you?"

"Of course I can, kid." Kix went to ruffle Luke's hair, which just looked… weird. Anakin stopped him.

"One second, Kix. Be careful with these ones. They're potential Sith." Showing the red lightsabre with one hand, Anakin groped in his utility belt. Where were his…? Ah, there! He only had one set, but he doubted the cyborg would be conscious enough to need them for a while. Smirking triumphantly, Anakin slapped a pair of Force-dampening handcuffs on Luke.

"Play nice with my men. We'll talk later."

"Oh… Oh dear…" Apparently the boy had been even more exhausted than he'd appeared, running on adrenaline and the Force. And with the latter cut off… Luke slumped in his seat, eyes sliding shut. Kix shot Anakin a reproachful look, but said nothing, speeding off towards the Resolute with his new patients. The rest of the 501st followed at a motion from Anakin.

"Is there anything else here?" Obi-Wan asked when Anakin didn't immediately jump on his speeder and go after his men. "I don't sense anything."

"I'm not sure…" Anakin stared at the wreckage. The fires were already starting to die down, but they should probably extinguish them just in case.

"They felt weird," Ahsoka reiterated, "Like I should know them, but I don't. And that Luke guy looked familiar, but I have no clue where I've seen him before."

Anakin shot his padawan a look of alarm. "You think you've seen him before?" Kriff, when would a Sith have gotten near Ahsoka without me noticing?

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe not. Maybe he just has one of those faces. You humans blur together sometimes, you know?" The last words were accompanied by a cheeky grin and subtle twitch of Ahsoka's lekku.

Obi-Wan found a fire extinguisher in the ruined warehouse and deployed it, covering the crash site in dense foam. "Anakin, if you believe them to be Sith, it's best if we head back with your men in case they need backup. I'll send a squad from the 212th out here to clean up and investigate the crash site. Although I doubt they'll find anything; I don't sense any other lifeforms or disturbances."

"Yeah." Anakin shook himself. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry. There's just… something weird going on here."

"And if you're right about those men being Sith, they are most likely the source of the strangeness."

Nodding absently, Anakin hopped up on his speeder. "You're probably right… Let's get back to the Resolute."

vVv

Anakin stood in front of the bacta tank, unable to keep from staring in morbid fascination. By the time he, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka had caught up to the 501st, Kix had already started treatment on Luke and his father, the first fifteen minutes of which had consisted of cutting the cyborg free from his utterly destroyed prosthetics and life support.

"Are you sure he's not dead?" Anakin asked quietly as he stared at the mass of scar tissue and boiling grief floating in front of him. "He looks dead."

Kix huffed. "He's only mostly dead. There's still a little life left in there for me to work with." The medic was busily examining the burns crisscrossing Luke's body, now that his father was in no immediate danger of expiring on them. He sighed.

"Whoever looked after him in the past, though, they did a shoddy job of it. Whatever scarred him like that was never treated properly, and his internal organs are just as badly off as his skin. I don't know how much of the damage I can reverse at this point, but I'd like to try."

Nodding absently, Anakin pressed his mechanical hand against the glass of the tank. Ahsoka was right, something about what was left of the man before him felt weirdly familiar, even though Anakin was sure he'd never met a Sith who bore such a resemblance to a hunk of Bantha jerky. "And Luke?"

"Almost as badly off. Whatever nearly killed his father, it happened to him too. This time; he doesn't have anything like his father's old injuries. He should be awake in a few days, though; he's pretty tough."

Anakin winced. Just what they needed–a tough, unknown Sith who was strong enough in the Force to overwhelm him, however briefly, even in the depths of exhaustion. "Is there anything else to report?"

"Besides the extent of their injuries?" Kix raised an eyebrow in a near-perfect imitation of Obi-Wan. Anakin shrugged.

"I dunno… Anything that could help us figure out where they came from?"

The medic shook his head. "Nothing in or on their bodies. For information like that, you'll have to wait for the 212th to report back or Luke to wake up."

Anakin nodded, sighing as quietly as he could. He didn't like waiting. He especially didn't like waiting when he didn't know when something was dangerous or not. "Thank you, Kix."

"It's nothing, Sir. Do you intend to stand there all day?"

"Not all day, but probably a little longer. There's something about these two…"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out in time." Kix's eyes narrowed. "Sir, are you injured?"

"What?" Anakin winced as he turned around, a jolt of pain stabbing through his ribs. Right… Crushed by cyborg dad. "I might be? Luke and his father were thrown into me by an explosion. I'll be fine."

Kix rolled his eyes. "Sir, sit down. Let me have a look at you."

"It's fine, rea-"

Anakin wisely chose to shut up when Kix glared at him. He knew that look. That was a look that said cooperate or I will get Kenobi and Rex to make your next three weeks a living Hell.

Anakin did not feel like messing with that look.

Biting his lip, Anakin sat down on a free medical bed and took his tunic off so Kix could check his ribs. The medic was brusque poking and prodding to find out exactly where and how much he hurt. Throughout the whole procedure, Anakin was still unable to take his eyes off of the broken form of the cyborg floating in the bacta tank.

"Who are you…?"