Padme awoke to an urgent buzzing in her ears. Rolling over, she swatted at
the comm. "Senator Naberrie here," she mumbled indistinctly.
"It's Anakin," the familiar voice said curtly. "Can we talk?"
Retrieving her wrist chrono, she squinted. 0700. A bit early for a social call, but this sounded urgent.
"Of course," she said, more clearly. "Where shall I meet you?"
"It's best if we're in your quarters, where we won't be overheard."
What in the name of the Force is going on?
"Come on up. I'll inform the sentries that you're here on business."
"Thank you," he replied. "Skywalker out."
Rising from her bed, Padme retrieved a simple robe and cinched it about her form. Five minutes after she notified the sentries on duty, Anakin entered her apartment in a blatantly foul mood.
"What's this all about, Anakin?"
He flung a datapad onto the table and resumed his furious pacing. "See for yourself."
She sank onto the repulsorcouch, suddenly very weary. With trembling hands, Padme retrieved the datapad and scrolled through the file.
By order of the Republic Armed Forces, you are hereby conscripted for service to the Starfighter Corps, assigned to unit 8337...
"Conscripted," she breathed.
"Is this your doing?" he demanded, his voice a hoarse growl.
"Anakin," she protested, "you know I would never do anything like this."
"Do I?" He ran his fingers through his hair in one violent motion. "This is approved by the Senate commission for civilian involvement. They're sending 600 Jedi to fight the war and I'm apparently going with them."
Still staring dumbly at the datapad, Padme blinked. "What about Obi-wan and Ti?"
"Both conscripted as well," he snapped. "Obi-wan's received a General's commission and will be leading ground forces. Ti and I are both in the same fighter unit."
Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. It was amazing how such ice- blue eyes could blaze.
"I knew nothing of this," she said honestly. "A measure like this would have had to go through the general assembly and it has not been even mentioned."
"We're to be at a special session of the Senate this afternoon," he reported. "I can only assume that's when it'll be aired."
"Sithspawn," she murmured. "I can't believe Chancellor Palpatine would not..."
"Palpatine doesn't care much for the interests of anyone but himself," Anakin bit out. "He would not deign to keep you informed."
"Please," Padme said, the desperation in her heart leaking into her voice, "sit down."
"I can't," he bit out. "Obi-wan and I have to meet with the Council in an hour. We have to figure out what exactly they're going to do with you while we're off playing hero."
Padme rose and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I want this even less than you do, Anakin," she said quietly. "But it appears that unless the motion is aborted this afternoon, there is no alternative."
His fury subsided into intense weariness. "I know," he stated. "That's what makes it even worse."
She pressed her cheek to his chest, sighing. "I wish I could go with you."
"No." His hand came up to cradle her head. "I'll not have you involved in this, even for my sake."
She sighed deeply, leaning deeper into his embrace. In the course of minutes, she had gone from wearied self-assurance to feeling completely lost. She needed his touch, his physical presence to anchor her.
"I know," she said simply.
*********************************************
The motion carried with only one dissenting member and the Jedi Battalion as the media were calling them made hasty preparations to go to war.
The night before they were to leave, six hundred Jedi Knights, Masters, and senior Padawans convened in the Great Hall for meditation.
The Jedi rarely got themselves involved on this level. It was one thing for individual teams to take up arms in defense of peace and justice when the need arose, but quite another to deliberately enter combat against sentients.
Even if they were clones.
Anakin had, perhaps, the least trouble finding his quest in the coming conflict. His mother's face lingered in the forefront of his thoughts as he meditated.
It was not vigilante justice or bitter vengeance, he reasoned. Simply returning the favor.
A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, startling him from his reverie, and he looked up to see Ti's former Master, Adren Schilian, standing over him.
"Come with me," he said quietly, not ready to disturb the other members of the 'battalion.'
Anakin rose from his meditation and followed Schilian to the deserted antechambers. Gesturing him to a seat, Schilian sank onto a chair opposite him.
"I do not often intrude on one's meditation," he began, "but as you are Tizar's best friend, I took it upon myself to probe your thoughts with the intent of aiding your process if possible.
"I would not have interrupted you, but I am concerned with your focus."
"The clones murdered my mother," Anakin said simply. "I only want to see justice done."
Schilian shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "You mistake justice for somehting dangerously personal. I can understand your need for closure in the matter. The Council forbade you to return to Tatooine and when they finally intervened in that system, your mother died. You blame yourself and the Council and you would like nothing more than to have 'an eye for an eye.'"
Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Would you not?"
Schilian's mouth twitched, but he did not smile. "I probably would on some level," he admitted, "but remember this: your focus determines your reality. Your current focus is a danger, to your soul and to the lives of those around you. You are reckless by nature, but if you continue in this vein, it will become uncontrollable.
"I fear for you, Anakin Skywalker. You have great power, greater empathy, and, greatest of all, passion. That passion, however, is dangerous. It is short-sighted and can be selfish. If you are to return from this war without the marks of a madman, you must learn to look beyond your own needs and personal vendettas."
Seeing Anakin's protest on his lips, Schilian held up a hand. "Forgive me," he said carefully. "I did not mean to banalize the issue so, but the fact of the matter is, you need to refocus or all will be lost."
Anakin stared, blinking at Schilian's words. Something in them rang true, but he couldn't begin to fathom what he meant by them.
"I don't understand."
"I don't doubt that," Schilian said with a smile. "You have probably tired of hearing this, but you must be patient and allow the Force to work, even if its motives are hidden to you. The Force trusts in us and thereby dispenses its aid. We can do no more than to return the favor."
********************************************* "And you are?"
Anakin instinctively began to bow formally, then thought better of it and threw a crisp salute. Jah Antilles returned the gesture, then gestured them to seats.
"Anakin Skywalker, sir."
"Ah, yes," the Alderaanian said, smiling tightly. "Our Jedi. Good to see that you respect military protocol."
Ti's mouth quirked into a smile. "We will respect whatever necessary, but never injustice."
Antilles smile spread. "We'll have to keep that in mind, won't we?"
Anakin did not return the smile. "Ideally, yes."
Antilles' brow furrowed. "Does he ever smile?"
Ti laughed. "Don't mind Anakin," she said conspirationally. "He got conscripted half a Galaxy away from the love of his life."
Anakin swatted her arm. "I'm sure a simple yes or no would have sufficed," he bit out.
She smirked. "Striking a superior officer," she quipped. "Perhaps he's trying to get court-martialed back to Coruscant."
"Technically," Antilles corrected, "you're a Flight Officer. Skywalker has a commission as a Major and will be the Executive Officer of this unit. I wouldn't consider you a superior officer."
"I'm a Jedi Knight," Ti countered. "Anywhere but here, he is anything but my superior."
Nudging him none-too-gently, she grinned. "As you'll find out the moment we put him in a cockpit."
Smiling for the first time since Coruscant, Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge?"
Ti squeezed his hand affectionately. "I knew that would get you to bare some teeth."
Antilles' mouth twitched. "Kenobi warned me about the two of you."
"I bet he did," Anakin said simply. "We'll try not to be a disgrace to the unit too often."
"I'm sure," he said wryly. "As it is, Flight Officer Nan, you will be the wingman of Ezrael Kar and the roommate of Lieutenant Feliz Taor. Major Skywalker, you will have the misfortune of being the wingman of Arin Lazre, but due to your rank, you get your own quarters."
"Yes, sir."
Standing, he passed over two passcards and ID discs. "Those will get you into your quarters and cleared through security. If you like, I'll direct you there, then let you get acquainted with the rest of the unit. I think you'll find them a little more informal than anyone in this office."
*********************************************
Informality was an understatement.
They entered the lounge to find the entire unit engaged in a bloodthirsty game of sabacc.
"Officer on deck," someone shouted.
Immediately, all hands were dropped but not before someone shouted, "Oh, Sith. A pure sabacc and we'll have to redeal."
There was a stifled laugh as everyone saluted. Antilles returned the gesture, then waved them back to their seats.
"Sorry to interrupt your game, gentles," he called, "but we have two new members. Our new XO and Sabertooth Four is Major Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine. And Sabertooth Nine will be Flight Officer Tizar Nan of Raltiir."
He gestured to the table. "Have a seat. I'm sure they won't mind."
"Not at all," the 'Oh Sith' pilot said.
There was a round of greetings and Anakin settled into a vacant chair. With a grin, Ti took a seat across from him.
"As long as we're redealing, you want in?"
Anakin shook his head. "We're Jedi. We try not to gamble."
"Drink?"
"No."
"Flirt?"
Ti winked at him. "Watch it, ladies, he's already taken and I have no interest."
Someone reached out and pinched him hard.
"Ow," Anakin said in mild surprise.
"Sorry, just making sure you weren't a figment of our imaginations."
"No," Anakin quipped. "Just your nightmares."
"I'm sure," the lone female interjected. "They'll keep us alive and on the straight and narrow. What worse fate could we imagine?"
********************************************* My dear Padme.
With those simple words, Padme's lingering headache fled in light of the elated smile that lit up her face.
Communication from the front was infrequent for security measures and it was the first time in his two months of service that Anakin had been able to get a message directly to her rather than relayed word through a liaison.
Something of him lingered on the datacard, a psychic signature, perhaps. Despite her Force-blind nature, she could almost sense his aura.
It was sentimental and a rather ridiculous notion, but it was something familiar, and for that she was grateful.
The content, however, extinguished the smile from her face.
My dear Padme,
For once, I envy the Jedi at the Temple. For ten years now, I've despised the atmosphere, the regulated environment, the strict code.
But moreover, I despised its isolation, the fact that it was sequestered from the rest of the Galaxy.
How I wish for a measure of that now.
Our unit, as you know, has not been one of great prominence. We've flown escort missions for convoys, scouting missions, anything but combat situations. Whether from the politics of having two Jedi in the unit or the untested strength of our skills, we don't quite know, but the Sabertooths have been shunted to the back burner, so to speak.
Four days ago, that all changed.
It was a routine scouting mission. We were scanning the Delyan Sector's outlying systems for possible clone havens.
Specifically, Two Flight was doing a flyby of Itzzak. Over its Southern continent, Moa Naie, Sabertooth Six, got shot down by an unforeseen military advantage.
It had all the makings of a disaster. We were outgunned, outnumbered, and trapped, but the rest of us managed to survive.
What I'm not proud of is how that was accomplished. My wingman, disobeying orders, began a strafing run of a town to drive out clones. I fired a disabling shot on him to halt his progress, but not before the town was consumed in flames. And in the moment it took for me to turn my guns on my comrade, their ground-based weaponry shot him down.
Many out here believe this is a crusade of sorts, a noble cause. Ever since Itzzak, people have been treating us as heroes. They buy us drinks and demand to hear the story.
They would not be so cavalier if they'd seen what I saw.
Homes crumbling, children running screaming from their town only to be burned down by the people who are supposed to be protecting them. It was all I could do not to kill my wing outright.
There are no charges against me. There were witnesses who can vouch for the justifiability of my actions. As though it's possible to justify fury.
But they wil still want answers. The survivors, Arin's friends, and myself, they will all want to know why.
And I know not what to tell them.
Forever yours,
Anakin Anakin found Antilles sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. By the feel of it, he was either brooding, despondent, or disgusted. Perhaps a mixture of all three.
"Come in, Skywalker," he said without looking up.
Anakin crossed to the chairs in front of the desk and sank into one of them. "Are you all right, sir?"
Antilles finally looked up and forced a weary smile. "Sorry, news from the Fleet. The Mandalorians have set up a blockade around Alderaan and the armies themselves have staged a full-scale invasion."
Anakin's brow furrowed. "It's not a good sign if they're moving in on Core Worlds."
"No, it's not," Antilles agreed. "As it is, based on our actions at Itzzak, the Fleet has placed us in a task force assigned to take out the blockade. We ship out to the staging area at Raltiir tonight."
"Raltiir," Anakin repeated quietly.
Antilles nodded. "I understand Flight Officer Nan is from there. Perhaps we could arrange for her to visit her family."
"She has none," Anakin said bluntly. "Jedi are typically not acquainted with their biological family. Even so, about a month after she was brought to the Temple, her family was slaughtered in civil war."
Antilles blanched. "I didn't know."
Anakin shook his head. "It's not the sort of thing that goes into personnel files. When shall I tell the squad to be ready to ship out?"
"No need," he assured him. "The Valiant will be taking us there."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"How's unit morale?"
Anakin shuddered. "Mixed levels. There are those who accept the heightened attention and increased respect. Those who grudgingly admit that we destroyed a clone haven. Those who are letter to file letters of protest. Those who are in a bit of denial. And, then of course, Ti and I."
Antilles nodded grimly. "What does your Council think of us?"
He could still hear Master Yoda's voice ringing in his ears. They had not been happy with this turn of events, but they had not blamed either Anakin nor Ti.
"They realize that what happened was the product of injustice and that we did nothing to cause it, but much to halt its progress."
"Good." He sighed. "Get some rest, Skywalker. The coming fight will require more strength than we can afford."
********************************************* Anakin found Ti in the squadron's gymnasium, taking out her anger or frustration, or whatever emotion she happened to be feeling on a combat dummy.
Most Jedi preferred to use a lightsaber, but Ti had learned from hard experience that there were times when more was needed. As a result, she had disciplined herself in hand-to-hand combat and relied on both.
She lashed out with her left fist, then threw a reverse punch to the dummy's jaw. Settling her weight back onto her right leg, her left leg snapped out in a vicious hook kick that struck where the shoulder and neck met.
"What did he ever do to you?"
Ti retreated, then launched a flying side-kick that snapped the head back.
"I've been imagining that it's Master Yoda," she panted, "lecturing me on my temper."
Grinning, Anakin reached down and pulled one boot off. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Nan, but while you're flailing at shadows, he'll probably have dislocated your knee with his stick, then beaten you into submission."
A roundhouse kick, step, then another.
"Don't remind me," she gritted with a right hook. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged and kicked off the other boot. "Antilles ordered me to get some rest, but I can't possibly sleep until I've worked myself into exhaustion. So I figured I'd come down here and let you abuse me for a while. That is," he continued, gesturing expansively, "if you're up to it."
She bowed, grinning mockingly. "Any time you're ready, Sky..."
He had leapt into the air, his right leg snapping up to catch her under the chin.
"Sithspawn," she mumbled around the blood filling her mouth. "I should have known you'd go for something underhanded."
"Stop philosophizing and fight," Anakin countered gleefully.
"With pleasure."
Anakin's hands came up in the defensive posture, then just as quickly, his left hand arced down to deflect the blow aimed at his midsection.
But that blow had been a diversion. With her other hand, she drove the heel of her hand upwards into his nose.
"Speaking of underhanded," Anakin gasped out.
"That's for trying to trick me."
He dropped to one knee, avoiding the high roundhouse kick that had been aimed at the side of his neck and swept his leg through her standing leg at knee-height.
"So," he panted, "in saber duels, who ever is disarmed first loses. What shall the killing blow be here?"
"Whoever passes out first?"
She had rolled back into a crouch and landed a hook kick to the side of his head that threatened to end the match right there.
"No. We ship out to Raltiir in twelve hours and I don't think Antilles would be thrilled about having a concussed pilot on the job. I say whoever gets pinned."
"Raltiir?"
In that moment of distraction, he landed a crouching side-kick to her midsection, driving her onto her back. In the next moment, he pinned her despite her flailing legs.
"Raltiir," he repeated breathlessly. "Alderaan has been blockaded and the task force is staging from Raltiir. And I win."
She shoved him away none-too-gently. "Great," she grumbled. "And we're shipping ourselves?"
"No," he assured her. "The Valiant has that unhappy duty."
Reaching out, he probed her jaw. She winced. "Not broken," she assured him, "but my tongue didn't fare as well."
"At least you took your revenge on my nose," he quipped.
"True."
He brushed her forehead with a kiss. "Ti, it has been a distinct pleasure being throttled by you. I'll see you at the rendezvous point."
********************************************* Anakin waited just outside the airlock, his posture erect, his eyes facing forward. Beside him, Ti was in a similar stance, as though in position for a military review.
The figure who came through the airlock hatch, however, was anything but military.
Obi-Wan crushed his Padawan in an affectionate embrace, then stepped back and greeted Ti in kind.
"I'm glad to see you both haven't managed to kill each other off."
"It was difficult," Ti admitted, "but we did it somehow."
Anakin grinned. "I see command suits you well."
"Aesthetics," Obi-Wan growled, tugging at the cuff of his uniform. "They don't think Jedi robes are suitably militant. I tried to tell them that's the point, but they won't listen."
Anakin laughed easily. "The briefing won't begin for another six hours, at the earliest, so I suppose we should show you your quarters."
He let out a breath and smiled. "I think I'd like that. I have a few things for you two from well-wishers back home."
"Padme," Anakin said hopefully.
"Of course." He fished a package out of his satchel and handed it to Anakin, then passed two datacards to Ti. "And, of course, your admirers are restricted to Master Schilian and Padme."
"Of course," Ti said dourly.
Anakin pried open the package's wrapping and removed a hand-written letter. "Dear Anakin," he read. "What dark times are these when war comes down to the merchandising. On the streets of Coruscant, they are selling Soldiers' Send-offs--kits to create care packages for your brave warrior. At first, I laughed at the notion, but over the course of six days, the idea became addictive.
"So, when Obi-Wan, excuse me, General Kenobi, returned to Coruscant for a brief interlude, I decided the time was right to send something other than half-coherent letters once a month. Despite the fact that I have never carried a white handkerchief doused with my favorite perfumed oils or sent anything sealed with a kiss, and despite the dozens of holos you have of me, here are a few things to remember me by. Of course, you'll quote me as saying, 'I don't need this to remember you,' but indulge me and enjoy the brush with normality for as long as it lasts. Love and hope always, Padme."
Ti snorted. "I knew she was a wretched sentimentalist, but this is a bit ridiculous."
"I think it's charming," Obi-Wan countered. "And you're just envious that you don't have one from a certain admirer as well."
She folded her arms defiantly. "I don't think I know which ones are men and I don't care to find out the hard way."
They turned into a corridor on their left and stopped at the fourth door on the right.
"If you two will come with me," Obi-Wan said, lowering his voice, "there is a matter we must discuss."
Not questioning, they followed him into his quarters and settled into the chairs in the living room.
Without preamble, he turned and began speaking in a low, strained tone. "Of the six hundred Jedi sent to fight these wars, two hundred have been killed. Only ninety-seven of these deaths were clone-related."
Anakin exchanged an alarmed glance with Ti. "Then what caused..."
"Sith," Obi-Wan said simply. "Spies for them scout out the Jedi during the waking hours and at night, the Sith stalk abroad, murdering any Jedi and those close to them. I would doubt that either of you were in danger, but that's what too often gets more of our kind killed.
"I must implore you to be on your guard. I can think of no better safeguard than the promptings of the Force."
Anakin nodded gravely. "We'll keep that in mind."
"Good." He let out his breath. "We've lost too many already. I can't risk losing either of you as well."
*********************************************
"The blockade is focused primarily around the northern hemisphere, where the cities of Aldera and Antibes are located. Lesser defenses are positioned above the continents of Thon and Lisater."
A holoprojection of Alderaan sprung up, complete with the sensor readouts of the blockade formation.
Leaning forward, Anakin squinted at the pattern. Getting anything through that defensive web would be difficult to say the least. To have the fighters of a task force caught in crossfires at any point in the web would be unavoidable.
"General Kenobi's forces will be attempting a flanking movement, using the narrow channel between the continents of Eisal and Alder. Concurrent to that offensive, the forces of the Alderaan Home Guard, under General Organa will be moving in from the other side. Ideally, between the two fronts, the army will be defeated or at the very least, scattered." Obi-Wan turned to nod at Sadet, a Corellian General in command of the task force. "General Sadet, if you will detail the Fleet's involvement?"
"Certainly."
The Corellian rose and keyed in a code that enlarged the holo of the blockade formation.
"As you can see, the blockade formation about Alderaan is tight, but not impenetrable. We will have the support of the Krakana Task Force using their heavy weaponry to knock out as much of the formation as possible. The snubfighters will be responsible for what remains and providing whatever aerial support the ground forces call for. More information will be administered as the offensive wears on.
"Any questions?"
Anakin caught a flash of something from Ti, turned to see her brow furrowed in concentration.
"What is it," he asked quietly.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I sense something wrong, but I can't pinpoint it enough to voice a valid concern."
"Knight Nan," Sadet interjected. "You will keep us apprised if you do sense anything more?"
"Yes, sir," Ti affirmed. "As will Major Skywalker."
"Good. Dismissed."
Anakin rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have you had this sort of sensation before?"
"Yes." She looked up to meet his gaze. "On the way to Tatooine."
He sucked in his breath. If this were going to shape up into the disaster that Tatooine had been...
"Perhaps we should spend some time in meditation tonight," he prompted.
"Undoubtedly," she agreed. "I'll meet you at the forward triangulation deck on level 9 at 2100 hours."
"I'll be there."
*********************************************
"Have a good night's sleep?"
Ti glowered at Anakin, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I thought meditation was supposed to bring peace and rest to the soul, not more confusion."
"Ideally, yes." He slung an arm over her shoulders and squeezed gently. "Are you sure you're up for the mission?"
"Wouldn't miss it," she rejoined. "How are you feeling?"
"Apprehensive," he admitted. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew what we were heading into."
"As would we all," she replied. "Don't worry too much about it. Whatever happens, we will face it in the strength of the Force and in the service of justice."
"How very noble-sounding," he quipped. "I'll have to keep that in mind."
Turning to face him, she sobered. "Do so," she said, almost pleading. "I want no empty chairs at our post-op celebration."
"No empty chairs," he repeated. "I'll do my best."
And they embraced, holding each other in quiet desperation until Commander Antilles gave the final signal for launch readiness, driving them back into the reality of war.
*********************************************
In hindsight, they should have known better.
The assault on the blockade had gone as planned, with the task force and snubfighters taking it apart piece by piece.
Until the Mandalorians had brought in their own reinforcements, on their tails. Now, it was a toss-up between what remained of the blockade and the fresh combatants who were sith-bent on their destruction.
"Watch it, Walker, you've got two trailing you, bearing mark..."
"I see them," Anakin bit out. "Lead, any update on reinforcements?"
"On their way," Antilles responded. "They should be here in less than a half hour."
Easing up on the throttle, Anakin side-slipped to starboard, letting his two pursuers catch each other in a lethal crossfire.
"I'm not sure we can hold out that long," Maor called.
Indeed, of the dozen Sabertooths who had launched four hours ago, there were six left.
"You'll have to."
"I could use some help here," Ti called, her voice slightly strained. "I'm head-to-head with one and have two more on my tail."
"On my way," Anakin responded.
With his foot, he eased the rudder to port, vectoring in towards Ti's private dogfight. His eyes narrowed in concentration and, angling slightly to port, he opened fire on her pursuers.
At that angle, the steady salvo coming from the linked quad-cannons shredded the engine nacelle of one fighter and slagged the cockpit of the second.
"Thanks," Ti breathed.
"I'm hit," Maor's voice crackled through the comm.
Indeed, she was in a flat spin, vectoring in a wild dive towards the bridge of the largest Mandalore cruiser. Before they could even react, she plowed through. Within heartbeats, the cruiser was losing altitude, plummeting at an alarming rate towards the Alder Sea.
"Scratch their main deterrent power," Ti said mournfully. "Lead, we're down to five."
"So I noticed," Antilles responded in kind. "The snubs are no longer a problem. Control, where are we needed?"
"Where aren't you needed," the controller resoponded wryly.
"Cut the banthafodder, if you please," Antilles bit out. "We've lost seven pilots and can't afford to let the rest of us die while waiting for you to gather your wits."
Suddenly, the space behind the Mandalore task force was very crowded.
"No need, Lead," a new voice called. "We'll take it from here."
Anakin sagged in relief. "Copy that, General Sadet. Just open us an exit corridor and we'll valiantly turn tail."
"Return to the Excelsior," Sadet ordered. "It has orders to get you out of the battle zone until our work here is finished."
"With pleasure," Ti responded.
She was vectoring to port, coming up behind Anakin, when the explosion occurred. Having caught the business end of a concussion missile, her starboard engine was so much molten metal.
For a moment, Anakin's heart stopped beating. Then, instinctively, he turned back to help.
"I've lost my starboard engine and am losing stabilizer capabilities," she gritted out. "I don't think I can stay vacside much longer."
"Go to ground," Antilles ordered. "For all the good it'll do, but it will keep you out of the line of fire."
She was dropping below the treeline when the second explosion sent her careening out of sight.
"Ti," Anakin rasped. "Ti, answer me."
There was no response.
"Walker, there's no chance. Return to the Excelsior before you get yourself killed as well."
"But she's not..."
"Our forces know where she went down," Antilles bit out. "If there's anything to salvage, they'll find it."
*********************************************
Anakin vaulted out of his fighter and straightened, saluting crisply. "Permission to go after Flight Officer Nan," he panted.
"Denied," Antilles said curtly. "It's a war zone down there and we can't risk losing more pilots."
Anakin felt heat rising in his cheeks, a burning fury. "But, sir..."
"No buts, Skywalker," he snapped. "We lost eight pilots today. I won't have you be the ninth on some personal crusade."
"She's not dead," he burst out. "And as long as she's alive and in danger, I'm not giving her up."
Antilles fixed him with a level stare, but Anakin could sense anguished fury roiling beneath the surface. "You're sure of this?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a long silence, then Antilles sighed wearily. "I'll meet you at the 930-X in hangar 7 in five minutes. Bring your field gear."
Anakin's eyebrow arched. "Sir?"
He smiled grimly. "Nan's one of my subordinates. As such, I'm bound to keep her alive. I'm going with you."
*********************************************
They landed half a kilometer from her crash site, not taking any unnecessary risks. The army was moving towards Antibes and should bypass both parties, but it would be a near miss.
They moved stealthily, relying only on their Force-given senses and feet, one hand on their weapon, the other clearing away foliage.
They found her slagged fighter in a clearing. Heart pounding, Anakin watched Antilles quickly scale the side of the craft and peer through the wreckage.
"There's good news and bad news," he said finally.
"What's the good news," Anakin said warily.
"She was alive enough to have left the crash site. There's no one in there and no burn damage to suggest that she could have been cremated."
"And the bad news?"
Antilles simply pointed. Leading away from the fighter was a smeared trail of blood, as though someone were half-dragging themself to safety.
"We know where she's headed, but we don't know if we're the only ones trailing her or even if she's alive."
Anakin's mouth twitched. "Then I suggest we find out."
Half a kilometer further, they stopped to reorient.
"Don't you look the pair of dashing explorers."
Anakin whirled to see Ti fifteen yards away. Propped up on her elbows, with an ashen, sweat-streaked face and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she looked horrible.
But at least she was alive.
"Thank the Force," Anakin breathed, rushing to her side. "What's your status? Are you all right?"
"Not really," she gasped out, sagging onto her back. "Three cracked ribs, a broken leg, a broken collarbone from trying to get out of a fighter with a broken leg..."
"Internal bleeding," Antilles asked.
She coughed, a weak rasping noise. "Probably. I'm in too much pain to concentrate on the Force and ascertain the full extent of the damage."
Anakin placed a trembling hand on her brow, drawing the pain out and feeding his own strength into her soul. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do in the interim.
"Splint her leg," he ordered, "and we'll need to wrap those ribs."
"Agreed."
Anakin slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her carefully, trembling. Antilles worked quickly, using the combat medpack they'd been issued on their departure from the Excelsior. It didn't boast much in the way of real medical supplies--it was designed primarily for keeping comrades alive long enough to outlast a battle--but it was sufficient for now.
"Let me walk," Ti pleaded. "I'll only slow you down if you have to carry me."
They exchanged wary glances. "Are you able," Anakin asked. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," she replied. "How far to our ride?"
"A kilometer," he reported. "It'll be fairly easy going on the return trip. Not much..."
"Stop explaining and get moving," she gasped out. "We don't have much time."
Helping her to her feet, Anakin supported her for a moment as she regained her balance, then followed her back towards the landing site.
Three quarters of a kilometer later, she halted, one hand held in the air. Her chin tilted as though she were an animal, sniffing out her surroundings.
They were trekking parallel to an irrigation ditch that wound silently through the forest. There were no visible dangers or even predatory liabilities.
But Anakin could sense it as well, an urgent tingling of his danger sense.
"Get back," he snapped at Antilles. "This may not be..."
His words were cut off as the Sith attacked. Igniting his saber, he swung it up to parry the vicious thrust that would have driven straight through the hollow of his throat.
Ti was similarly engaged. Anakin was relieved to see that Antilles had sensibly taken cover, choosing to guard them from a hidden position.
The next blow came low, arcing in towards his left hip. Anakin whipped the blade downward in an inelegant, but effective parry, then angled his wrists back towards himself, sidestepping to avoid the blade as it fell from the Sith's hands.
Pivoting on his rear leg, he slashed upward, driving his blade from hip to throat in a single, violent arc. The Sith fell and Anakin bolted for Ti's position.
Antilles took that moment to fire. The Sith turned and deflected it back towards Antilles and Ti landed a glancing blow to his shoulder. Enraged, he slashed in while her blade was still engaged, leaving a wound where the shoulder met the neck.
Anakin stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. The vision.
True to the memory, she raised a trembling hand to probe the wound, her expression bewildered and even frightened. The next swing took her fingers off and bit deeper into her neck.
He was as ineffectual as he had been in the vision.
But he had to try.
"No!"
Anakin rushed forward, driving his saber through the Sith's neck from behind and the warrior fell beside Ti, already dead.
Letting his saber fall from his fingers, Anakin dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms as if holding her could save her.
"Too late," she murmured, blood already streaming from her mouth as steadily as from her neck. "Anakin..."
"I'm here," he rasped. "Hold on, Ti."
Opening a link to her through the Force, he poured every energy he could draw on into her life force, slowing the flow of blood, keeping oxygen in her lungs.
But it was a mechanical gesture. Even before he could reach her mind, she was lost to him.
His eyes snapped open to see her head resting in the crook of his arm, her eyes blank.
A harsh, anguished howl ripped itself from his throat and quickly dissolved into anguished, convulsive cries.
Rocking her, he held tightly to her limp form until the Force came to take its own into its embrace and she disappeared.
*********************************************
"You've been recalled to Coruscant," Obi-Wan said gravely. "The Republic wishes to know first-hand what happened here, at what price this victory came."
Anakin, his eyes dead, his voice hollow, snorted. "I think I can ensure that will be stated, if not explained."
"Anakin..."
"She's dead," he said, his voice unchanged. "I knew what was coming and I did nothing to stop it, nothing to save her until it was too late."
"You mustn't blame..."
"Don't tell me what I must not do," Anakin exploded. "I've had enough of that and I know where the blame lies. I am as much at fault as the Sith who killed her in the first place."
"You can't think that," Obi-Wan pleaded. "I know this is difficult for you to accept..."
"How can you possibly know?"
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan retorted.
Anakin's breath caught in his throat. Yes, Obi-Wan did know what a loss of this magnitude felt like. Perhaps better than Anakin himself.
"You and Commander Antilles will shuttle out within four hours. He will be rebuilding the squadron at Fleet Headquarters."
"Yes, Master," Anakin said, his voice returned to its former state. "Anything else?"
Obi-Wan's eyes closed. "I notified Padme of the event as well as your impending arrival."
"Thank you," Anakin choked out. "I didn't know how I was going to tell her myself. I don't think I ever could."
"I know," Obi-Wan said evenly. "I understand."
Rising, he crossed to Anakin and placed both hands on his shoulders. "The Force has not abandoned you, Anakin, nor those who serve it. It may be impossible to fathom, but there is a purpose for all things. And the Force will be with you, always."
*********************************************
Padme stood with her cloak wrapped tightly about her small form, scanning the skies for any sign of Anakin's shuttle. Coruscant Air Control indicated they should be arriving within minutes, but her anguish lengthened heartbeats into eons.
Ti's death had struck a deep nerve, as though she had lost a family member, a part of herself, of her soul. Perhaps she had.
But to think of what Anakin must be going through, it defied sensation. She could not even begin to imagine it.
The whine of repulsorlifts drew her gaze to the sky once more and she stepped back behind the blast shield, watching as the shuttle made its final approach and landing.
Anakin made his way down the ramp with clearly labored steps. At the base, he halted to gaze at her, then rushed forward and crushed her in an embrace. Padme's arms snaked up to brace him to her, her face buried in his shoulder.
"Anakin," she murmured. "I'm so sorry."
"No more words," he begged. "There have been too many of them and too little real emotion. Please, just hold me."
She was more than willing to comply.
*********************************************
"It's Anakin," the familiar voice said curtly. "Can we talk?"
Retrieving her wrist chrono, she squinted. 0700. A bit early for a social call, but this sounded urgent.
"Of course," she said, more clearly. "Where shall I meet you?"
"It's best if we're in your quarters, where we won't be overheard."
What in the name of the Force is going on?
"Come on up. I'll inform the sentries that you're here on business."
"Thank you," he replied. "Skywalker out."
Rising from her bed, Padme retrieved a simple robe and cinched it about her form. Five minutes after she notified the sentries on duty, Anakin entered her apartment in a blatantly foul mood.
"What's this all about, Anakin?"
He flung a datapad onto the table and resumed his furious pacing. "See for yourself."
She sank onto the repulsorcouch, suddenly very weary. With trembling hands, Padme retrieved the datapad and scrolled through the file.
By order of the Republic Armed Forces, you are hereby conscripted for service to the Starfighter Corps, assigned to unit 8337...
"Conscripted," she breathed.
"Is this your doing?" he demanded, his voice a hoarse growl.
"Anakin," she protested, "you know I would never do anything like this."
"Do I?" He ran his fingers through his hair in one violent motion. "This is approved by the Senate commission for civilian involvement. They're sending 600 Jedi to fight the war and I'm apparently going with them."
Still staring dumbly at the datapad, Padme blinked. "What about Obi-wan and Ti?"
"Both conscripted as well," he snapped. "Obi-wan's received a General's commission and will be leading ground forces. Ti and I are both in the same fighter unit."
Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. It was amazing how such ice- blue eyes could blaze.
"I knew nothing of this," she said honestly. "A measure like this would have had to go through the general assembly and it has not been even mentioned."
"We're to be at a special session of the Senate this afternoon," he reported. "I can only assume that's when it'll be aired."
"Sithspawn," she murmured. "I can't believe Chancellor Palpatine would not..."
"Palpatine doesn't care much for the interests of anyone but himself," Anakin bit out. "He would not deign to keep you informed."
"Please," Padme said, the desperation in her heart leaking into her voice, "sit down."
"I can't," he bit out. "Obi-wan and I have to meet with the Council in an hour. We have to figure out what exactly they're going to do with you while we're off playing hero."
Padme rose and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I want this even less than you do, Anakin," she said quietly. "But it appears that unless the motion is aborted this afternoon, there is no alternative."
His fury subsided into intense weariness. "I know," he stated. "That's what makes it even worse."
She pressed her cheek to his chest, sighing. "I wish I could go with you."
"No." His hand came up to cradle her head. "I'll not have you involved in this, even for my sake."
She sighed deeply, leaning deeper into his embrace. In the course of minutes, she had gone from wearied self-assurance to feeling completely lost. She needed his touch, his physical presence to anchor her.
"I know," she said simply.
*********************************************
The motion carried with only one dissenting member and the Jedi Battalion as the media were calling them made hasty preparations to go to war.
The night before they were to leave, six hundred Jedi Knights, Masters, and senior Padawans convened in the Great Hall for meditation.
The Jedi rarely got themselves involved on this level. It was one thing for individual teams to take up arms in defense of peace and justice when the need arose, but quite another to deliberately enter combat against sentients.
Even if they were clones.
Anakin had, perhaps, the least trouble finding his quest in the coming conflict. His mother's face lingered in the forefront of his thoughts as he meditated.
It was not vigilante justice or bitter vengeance, he reasoned. Simply returning the favor.
A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, startling him from his reverie, and he looked up to see Ti's former Master, Adren Schilian, standing over him.
"Come with me," he said quietly, not ready to disturb the other members of the 'battalion.'
Anakin rose from his meditation and followed Schilian to the deserted antechambers. Gesturing him to a seat, Schilian sank onto a chair opposite him.
"I do not often intrude on one's meditation," he began, "but as you are Tizar's best friend, I took it upon myself to probe your thoughts with the intent of aiding your process if possible.
"I would not have interrupted you, but I am concerned with your focus."
"The clones murdered my mother," Anakin said simply. "I only want to see justice done."
Schilian shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "You mistake justice for somehting dangerously personal. I can understand your need for closure in the matter. The Council forbade you to return to Tatooine and when they finally intervened in that system, your mother died. You blame yourself and the Council and you would like nothing more than to have 'an eye for an eye.'"
Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Would you not?"
Schilian's mouth twitched, but he did not smile. "I probably would on some level," he admitted, "but remember this: your focus determines your reality. Your current focus is a danger, to your soul and to the lives of those around you. You are reckless by nature, but if you continue in this vein, it will become uncontrollable.
"I fear for you, Anakin Skywalker. You have great power, greater empathy, and, greatest of all, passion. That passion, however, is dangerous. It is short-sighted and can be selfish. If you are to return from this war without the marks of a madman, you must learn to look beyond your own needs and personal vendettas."
Seeing Anakin's protest on his lips, Schilian held up a hand. "Forgive me," he said carefully. "I did not mean to banalize the issue so, but the fact of the matter is, you need to refocus or all will be lost."
Anakin stared, blinking at Schilian's words. Something in them rang true, but he couldn't begin to fathom what he meant by them.
"I don't understand."
"I don't doubt that," Schilian said with a smile. "You have probably tired of hearing this, but you must be patient and allow the Force to work, even if its motives are hidden to you. The Force trusts in us and thereby dispenses its aid. We can do no more than to return the favor."
********************************************* "And you are?"
Anakin instinctively began to bow formally, then thought better of it and threw a crisp salute. Jah Antilles returned the gesture, then gestured them to seats.
"Anakin Skywalker, sir."
"Ah, yes," the Alderaanian said, smiling tightly. "Our Jedi. Good to see that you respect military protocol."
Ti's mouth quirked into a smile. "We will respect whatever necessary, but never injustice."
Antilles smile spread. "We'll have to keep that in mind, won't we?"
Anakin did not return the smile. "Ideally, yes."
Antilles' brow furrowed. "Does he ever smile?"
Ti laughed. "Don't mind Anakin," she said conspirationally. "He got conscripted half a Galaxy away from the love of his life."
Anakin swatted her arm. "I'm sure a simple yes or no would have sufficed," he bit out.
She smirked. "Striking a superior officer," she quipped. "Perhaps he's trying to get court-martialed back to Coruscant."
"Technically," Antilles corrected, "you're a Flight Officer. Skywalker has a commission as a Major and will be the Executive Officer of this unit. I wouldn't consider you a superior officer."
"I'm a Jedi Knight," Ti countered. "Anywhere but here, he is anything but my superior."
Nudging him none-too-gently, she grinned. "As you'll find out the moment we put him in a cockpit."
Smiling for the first time since Coruscant, Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge?"
Ti squeezed his hand affectionately. "I knew that would get you to bare some teeth."
Antilles' mouth twitched. "Kenobi warned me about the two of you."
"I bet he did," Anakin said simply. "We'll try not to be a disgrace to the unit too often."
"I'm sure," he said wryly. "As it is, Flight Officer Nan, you will be the wingman of Ezrael Kar and the roommate of Lieutenant Feliz Taor. Major Skywalker, you will have the misfortune of being the wingman of Arin Lazre, but due to your rank, you get your own quarters."
"Yes, sir."
Standing, he passed over two passcards and ID discs. "Those will get you into your quarters and cleared through security. If you like, I'll direct you there, then let you get acquainted with the rest of the unit. I think you'll find them a little more informal than anyone in this office."
*********************************************
Informality was an understatement.
They entered the lounge to find the entire unit engaged in a bloodthirsty game of sabacc.
"Officer on deck," someone shouted.
Immediately, all hands were dropped but not before someone shouted, "Oh, Sith. A pure sabacc and we'll have to redeal."
There was a stifled laugh as everyone saluted. Antilles returned the gesture, then waved them back to their seats.
"Sorry to interrupt your game, gentles," he called, "but we have two new members. Our new XO and Sabertooth Four is Major Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine. And Sabertooth Nine will be Flight Officer Tizar Nan of Raltiir."
He gestured to the table. "Have a seat. I'm sure they won't mind."
"Not at all," the 'Oh Sith' pilot said.
There was a round of greetings and Anakin settled into a vacant chair. With a grin, Ti took a seat across from him.
"As long as we're redealing, you want in?"
Anakin shook his head. "We're Jedi. We try not to gamble."
"Drink?"
"No."
"Flirt?"
Ti winked at him. "Watch it, ladies, he's already taken and I have no interest."
Someone reached out and pinched him hard.
"Ow," Anakin said in mild surprise.
"Sorry, just making sure you weren't a figment of our imaginations."
"No," Anakin quipped. "Just your nightmares."
"I'm sure," the lone female interjected. "They'll keep us alive and on the straight and narrow. What worse fate could we imagine?"
********************************************* My dear Padme.
With those simple words, Padme's lingering headache fled in light of the elated smile that lit up her face.
Communication from the front was infrequent for security measures and it was the first time in his two months of service that Anakin had been able to get a message directly to her rather than relayed word through a liaison.
Something of him lingered on the datacard, a psychic signature, perhaps. Despite her Force-blind nature, she could almost sense his aura.
It was sentimental and a rather ridiculous notion, but it was something familiar, and for that she was grateful.
The content, however, extinguished the smile from her face.
My dear Padme,
For once, I envy the Jedi at the Temple. For ten years now, I've despised the atmosphere, the regulated environment, the strict code.
But moreover, I despised its isolation, the fact that it was sequestered from the rest of the Galaxy.
How I wish for a measure of that now.
Our unit, as you know, has not been one of great prominence. We've flown escort missions for convoys, scouting missions, anything but combat situations. Whether from the politics of having two Jedi in the unit or the untested strength of our skills, we don't quite know, but the Sabertooths have been shunted to the back burner, so to speak.
Four days ago, that all changed.
It was a routine scouting mission. We were scanning the Delyan Sector's outlying systems for possible clone havens.
Specifically, Two Flight was doing a flyby of Itzzak. Over its Southern continent, Moa Naie, Sabertooth Six, got shot down by an unforeseen military advantage.
It had all the makings of a disaster. We were outgunned, outnumbered, and trapped, but the rest of us managed to survive.
What I'm not proud of is how that was accomplished. My wingman, disobeying orders, began a strafing run of a town to drive out clones. I fired a disabling shot on him to halt his progress, but not before the town was consumed in flames. And in the moment it took for me to turn my guns on my comrade, their ground-based weaponry shot him down.
Many out here believe this is a crusade of sorts, a noble cause. Ever since Itzzak, people have been treating us as heroes. They buy us drinks and demand to hear the story.
They would not be so cavalier if they'd seen what I saw.
Homes crumbling, children running screaming from their town only to be burned down by the people who are supposed to be protecting them. It was all I could do not to kill my wing outright.
There are no charges against me. There were witnesses who can vouch for the justifiability of my actions. As though it's possible to justify fury.
But they wil still want answers. The survivors, Arin's friends, and myself, they will all want to know why.
And I know not what to tell them.
Forever yours,
Anakin Anakin found Antilles sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. By the feel of it, he was either brooding, despondent, or disgusted. Perhaps a mixture of all three.
"Come in, Skywalker," he said without looking up.
Anakin crossed to the chairs in front of the desk and sank into one of them. "Are you all right, sir?"
Antilles finally looked up and forced a weary smile. "Sorry, news from the Fleet. The Mandalorians have set up a blockade around Alderaan and the armies themselves have staged a full-scale invasion."
Anakin's brow furrowed. "It's not a good sign if they're moving in on Core Worlds."
"No, it's not," Antilles agreed. "As it is, based on our actions at Itzzak, the Fleet has placed us in a task force assigned to take out the blockade. We ship out to the staging area at Raltiir tonight."
"Raltiir," Anakin repeated quietly.
Antilles nodded. "I understand Flight Officer Nan is from there. Perhaps we could arrange for her to visit her family."
"She has none," Anakin said bluntly. "Jedi are typically not acquainted with their biological family. Even so, about a month after she was brought to the Temple, her family was slaughtered in civil war."
Antilles blanched. "I didn't know."
Anakin shook his head. "It's not the sort of thing that goes into personnel files. When shall I tell the squad to be ready to ship out?"
"No need," he assured him. "The Valiant will be taking us there."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"How's unit morale?"
Anakin shuddered. "Mixed levels. There are those who accept the heightened attention and increased respect. Those who grudgingly admit that we destroyed a clone haven. Those who are letter to file letters of protest. Those who are in a bit of denial. And, then of course, Ti and I."
Antilles nodded grimly. "What does your Council think of us?"
He could still hear Master Yoda's voice ringing in his ears. They had not been happy with this turn of events, but they had not blamed either Anakin nor Ti.
"They realize that what happened was the product of injustice and that we did nothing to cause it, but much to halt its progress."
"Good." He sighed. "Get some rest, Skywalker. The coming fight will require more strength than we can afford."
********************************************* Anakin found Ti in the squadron's gymnasium, taking out her anger or frustration, or whatever emotion she happened to be feeling on a combat dummy.
Most Jedi preferred to use a lightsaber, but Ti had learned from hard experience that there were times when more was needed. As a result, she had disciplined herself in hand-to-hand combat and relied on both.
She lashed out with her left fist, then threw a reverse punch to the dummy's jaw. Settling her weight back onto her right leg, her left leg snapped out in a vicious hook kick that struck where the shoulder and neck met.
"What did he ever do to you?"
Ti retreated, then launched a flying side-kick that snapped the head back.
"I've been imagining that it's Master Yoda," she panted, "lecturing me on my temper."
Grinning, Anakin reached down and pulled one boot off. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Nan, but while you're flailing at shadows, he'll probably have dislocated your knee with his stick, then beaten you into submission."
A roundhouse kick, step, then another.
"Don't remind me," she gritted with a right hook. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged and kicked off the other boot. "Antilles ordered me to get some rest, but I can't possibly sleep until I've worked myself into exhaustion. So I figured I'd come down here and let you abuse me for a while. That is," he continued, gesturing expansively, "if you're up to it."
She bowed, grinning mockingly. "Any time you're ready, Sky..."
He had leapt into the air, his right leg snapping up to catch her under the chin.
"Sithspawn," she mumbled around the blood filling her mouth. "I should have known you'd go for something underhanded."
"Stop philosophizing and fight," Anakin countered gleefully.
"With pleasure."
Anakin's hands came up in the defensive posture, then just as quickly, his left hand arced down to deflect the blow aimed at his midsection.
But that blow had been a diversion. With her other hand, she drove the heel of her hand upwards into his nose.
"Speaking of underhanded," Anakin gasped out.
"That's for trying to trick me."
He dropped to one knee, avoiding the high roundhouse kick that had been aimed at the side of his neck and swept his leg through her standing leg at knee-height.
"So," he panted, "in saber duels, who ever is disarmed first loses. What shall the killing blow be here?"
"Whoever passes out first?"
She had rolled back into a crouch and landed a hook kick to the side of his head that threatened to end the match right there.
"No. We ship out to Raltiir in twelve hours and I don't think Antilles would be thrilled about having a concussed pilot on the job. I say whoever gets pinned."
"Raltiir?"
In that moment of distraction, he landed a crouching side-kick to her midsection, driving her onto her back. In the next moment, he pinned her despite her flailing legs.
"Raltiir," he repeated breathlessly. "Alderaan has been blockaded and the task force is staging from Raltiir. And I win."
She shoved him away none-too-gently. "Great," she grumbled. "And we're shipping ourselves?"
"No," he assured her. "The Valiant has that unhappy duty."
Reaching out, he probed her jaw. She winced. "Not broken," she assured him, "but my tongue didn't fare as well."
"At least you took your revenge on my nose," he quipped.
"True."
He brushed her forehead with a kiss. "Ti, it has been a distinct pleasure being throttled by you. I'll see you at the rendezvous point."
********************************************* Anakin waited just outside the airlock, his posture erect, his eyes facing forward. Beside him, Ti was in a similar stance, as though in position for a military review.
The figure who came through the airlock hatch, however, was anything but military.
Obi-Wan crushed his Padawan in an affectionate embrace, then stepped back and greeted Ti in kind.
"I'm glad to see you both haven't managed to kill each other off."
"It was difficult," Ti admitted, "but we did it somehow."
Anakin grinned. "I see command suits you well."
"Aesthetics," Obi-Wan growled, tugging at the cuff of his uniform. "They don't think Jedi robes are suitably militant. I tried to tell them that's the point, but they won't listen."
Anakin laughed easily. "The briefing won't begin for another six hours, at the earliest, so I suppose we should show you your quarters."
He let out a breath and smiled. "I think I'd like that. I have a few things for you two from well-wishers back home."
"Padme," Anakin said hopefully.
"Of course." He fished a package out of his satchel and handed it to Anakin, then passed two datacards to Ti. "And, of course, your admirers are restricted to Master Schilian and Padme."
"Of course," Ti said dourly.
Anakin pried open the package's wrapping and removed a hand-written letter. "Dear Anakin," he read. "What dark times are these when war comes down to the merchandising. On the streets of Coruscant, they are selling Soldiers' Send-offs--kits to create care packages for your brave warrior. At first, I laughed at the notion, but over the course of six days, the idea became addictive.
"So, when Obi-Wan, excuse me, General Kenobi, returned to Coruscant for a brief interlude, I decided the time was right to send something other than half-coherent letters once a month. Despite the fact that I have never carried a white handkerchief doused with my favorite perfumed oils or sent anything sealed with a kiss, and despite the dozens of holos you have of me, here are a few things to remember me by. Of course, you'll quote me as saying, 'I don't need this to remember you,' but indulge me and enjoy the brush with normality for as long as it lasts. Love and hope always, Padme."
Ti snorted. "I knew she was a wretched sentimentalist, but this is a bit ridiculous."
"I think it's charming," Obi-Wan countered. "And you're just envious that you don't have one from a certain admirer as well."
She folded her arms defiantly. "I don't think I know which ones are men and I don't care to find out the hard way."
They turned into a corridor on their left and stopped at the fourth door on the right.
"If you two will come with me," Obi-Wan said, lowering his voice, "there is a matter we must discuss."
Not questioning, they followed him into his quarters and settled into the chairs in the living room.
Without preamble, he turned and began speaking in a low, strained tone. "Of the six hundred Jedi sent to fight these wars, two hundred have been killed. Only ninety-seven of these deaths were clone-related."
Anakin exchanged an alarmed glance with Ti. "Then what caused..."
"Sith," Obi-Wan said simply. "Spies for them scout out the Jedi during the waking hours and at night, the Sith stalk abroad, murdering any Jedi and those close to them. I would doubt that either of you were in danger, but that's what too often gets more of our kind killed.
"I must implore you to be on your guard. I can think of no better safeguard than the promptings of the Force."
Anakin nodded gravely. "We'll keep that in mind."
"Good." He let out his breath. "We've lost too many already. I can't risk losing either of you as well."
*********************************************
"The blockade is focused primarily around the northern hemisphere, where the cities of Aldera and Antibes are located. Lesser defenses are positioned above the continents of Thon and Lisater."
A holoprojection of Alderaan sprung up, complete with the sensor readouts of the blockade formation.
Leaning forward, Anakin squinted at the pattern. Getting anything through that defensive web would be difficult to say the least. To have the fighters of a task force caught in crossfires at any point in the web would be unavoidable.
"General Kenobi's forces will be attempting a flanking movement, using the narrow channel between the continents of Eisal and Alder. Concurrent to that offensive, the forces of the Alderaan Home Guard, under General Organa will be moving in from the other side. Ideally, between the two fronts, the army will be defeated or at the very least, scattered." Obi-Wan turned to nod at Sadet, a Corellian General in command of the task force. "General Sadet, if you will detail the Fleet's involvement?"
"Certainly."
The Corellian rose and keyed in a code that enlarged the holo of the blockade formation.
"As you can see, the blockade formation about Alderaan is tight, but not impenetrable. We will have the support of the Krakana Task Force using their heavy weaponry to knock out as much of the formation as possible. The snubfighters will be responsible for what remains and providing whatever aerial support the ground forces call for. More information will be administered as the offensive wears on.
"Any questions?"
Anakin caught a flash of something from Ti, turned to see her brow furrowed in concentration.
"What is it," he asked quietly.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I sense something wrong, but I can't pinpoint it enough to voice a valid concern."
"Knight Nan," Sadet interjected. "You will keep us apprised if you do sense anything more?"
"Yes, sir," Ti affirmed. "As will Major Skywalker."
"Good. Dismissed."
Anakin rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have you had this sort of sensation before?"
"Yes." She looked up to meet his gaze. "On the way to Tatooine."
He sucked in his breath. If this were going to shape up into the disaster that Tatooine had been...
"Perhaps we should spend some time in meditation tonight," he prompted.
"Undoubtedly," she agreed. "I'll meet you at the forward triangulation deck on level 9 at 2100 hours."
"I'll be there."
*********************************************
"Have a good night's sleep?"
Ti glowered at Anakin, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I thought meditation was supposed to bring peace and rest to the soul, not more confusion."
"Ideally, yes." He slung an arm over her shoulders and squeezed gently. "Are you sure you're up for the mission?"
"Wouldn't miss it," she rejoined. "How are you feeling?"
"Apprehensive," he admitted. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew what we were heading into."
"As would we all," she replied. "Don't worry too much about it. Whatever happens, we will face it in the strength of the Force and in the service of justice."
"How very noble-sounding," he quipped. "I'll have to keep that in mind."
Turning to face him, she sobered. "Do so," she said, almost pleading. "I want no empty chairs at our post-op celebration."
"No empty chairs," he repeated. "I'll do my best."
And they embraced, holding each other in quiet desperation until Commander Antilles gave the final signal for launch readiness, driving them back into the reality of war.
*********************************************
In hindsight, they should have known better.
The assault on the blockade had gone as planned, with the task force and snubfighters taking it apart piece by piece.
Until the Mandalorians had brought in their own reinforcements, on their tails. Now, it was a toss-up between what remained of the blockade and the fresh combatants who were sith-bent on their destruction.
"Watch it, Walker, you've got two trailing you, bearing mark..."
"I see them," Anakin bit out. "Lead, any update on reinforcements?"
"On their way," Antilles responded. "They should be here in less than a half hour."
Easing up on the throttle, Anakin side-slipped to starboard, letting his two pursuers catch each other in a lethal crossfire.
"I'm not sure we can hold out that long," Maor called.
Indeed, of the dozen Sabertooths who had launched four hours ago, there were six left.
"You'll have to."
"I could use some help here," Ti called, her voice slightly strained. "I'm head-to-head with one and have two more on my tail."
"On my way," Anakin responded.
With his foot, he eased the rudder to port, vectoring in towards Ti's private dogfight. His eyes narrowed in concentration and, angling slightly to port, he opened fire on her pursuers.
At that angle, the steady salvo coming from the linked quad-cannons shredded the engine nacelle of one fighter and slagged the cockpit of the second.
"Thanks," Ti breathed.
"I'm hit," Maor's voice crackled through the comm.
Indeed, she was in a flat spin, vectoring in a wild dive towards the bridge of the largest Mandalore cruiser. Before they could even react, she plowed through. Within heartbeats, the cruiser was losing altitude, plummeting at an alarming rate towards the Alder Sea.
"Scratch their main deterrent power," Ti said mournfully. "Lead, we're down to five."
"So I noticed," Antilles responded in kind. "The snubs are no longer a problem. Control, where are we needed?"
"Where aren't you needed," the controller resoponded wryly.
"Cut the banthafodder, if you please," Antilles bit out. "We've lost seven pilots and can't afford to let the rest of us die while waiting for you to gather your wits."
Suddenly, the space behind the Mandalore task force was very crowded.
"No need, Lead," a new voice called. "We'll take it from here."
Anakin sagged in relief. "Copy that, General Sadet. Just open us an exit corridor and we'll valiantly turn tail."
"Return to the Excelsior," Sadet ordered. "It has orders to get you out of the battle zone until our work here is finished."
"With pleasure," Ti responded.
She was vectoring to port, coming up behind Anakin, when the explosion occurred. Having caught the business end of a concussion missile, her starboard engine was so much molten metal.
For a moment, Anakin's heart stopped beating. Then, instinctively, he turned back to help.
"I've lost my starboard engine and am losing stabilizer capabilities," she gritted out. "I don't think I can stay vacside much longer."
"Go to ground," Antilles ordered. "For all the good it'll do, but it will keep you out of the line of fire."
She was dropping below the treeline when the second explosion sent her careening out of sight.
"Ti," Anakin rasped. "Ti, answer me."
There was no response.
"Walker, there's no chance. Return to the Excelsior before you get yourself killed as well."
"But she's not..."
"Our forces know where she went down," Antilles bit out. "If there's anything to salvage, they'll find it."
*********************************************
Anakin vaulted out of his fighter and straightened, saluting crisply. "Permission to go after Flight Officer Nan," he panted.
"Denied," Antilles said curtly. "It's a war zone down there and we can't risk losing more pilots."
Anakin felt heat rising in his cheeks, a burning fury. "But, sir..."
"No buts, Skywalker," he snapped. "We lost eight pilots today. I won't have you be the ninth on some personal crusade."
"She's not dead," he burst out. "And as long as she's alive and in danger, I'm not giving her up."
Antilles fixed him with a level stare, but Anakin could sense anguished fury roiling beneath the surface. "You're sure of this?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a long silence, then Antilles sighed wearily. "I'll meet you at the 930-X in hangar 7 in five minutes. Bring your field gear."
Anakin's eyebrow arched. "Sir?"
He smiled grimly. "Nan's one of my subordinates. As such, I'm bound to keep her alive. I'm going with you."
*********************************************
They landed half a kilometer from her crash site, not taking any unnecessary risks. The army was moving towards Antibes and should bypass both parties, but it would be a near miss.
They moved stealthily, relying only on their Force-given senses and feet, one hand on their weapon, the other clearing away foliage.
They found her slagged fighter in a clearing. Heart pounding, Anakin watched Antilles quickly scale the side of the craft and peer through the wreckage.
"There's good news and bad news," he said finally.
"What's the good news," Anakin said warily.
"She was alive enough to have left the crash site. There's no one in there and no burn damage to suggest that she could have been cremated."
"And the bad news?"
Antilles simply pointed. Leading away from the fighter was a smeared trail of blood, as though someone were half-dragging themself to safety.
"We know where she's headed, but we don't know if we're the only ones trailing her or even if she's alive."
Anakin's mouth twitched. "Then I suggest we find out."
Half a kilometer further, they stopped to reorient.
"Don't you look the pair of dashing explorers."
Anakin whirled to see Ti fifteen yards away. Propped up on her elbows, with an ashen, sweat-streaked face and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she looked horrible.
But at least she was alive.
"Thank the Force," Anakin breathed, rushing to her side. "What's your status? Are you all right?"
"Not really," she gasped out, sagging onto her back. "Three cracked ribs, a broken leg, a broken collarbone from trying to get out of a fighter with a broken leg..."
"Internal bleeding," Antilles asked.
She coughed, a weak rasping noise. "Probably. I'm in too much pain to concentrate on the Force and ascertain the full extent of the damage."
Anakin placed a trembling hand on her brow, drawing the pain out and feeding his own strength into her soul. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do in the interim.
"Splint her leg," he ordered, "and we'll need to wrap those ribs."
"Agreed."
Anakin slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her carefully, trembling. Antilles worked quickly, using the combat medpack they'd been issued on their departure from the Excelsior. It didn't boast much in the way of real medical supplies--it was designed primarily for keeping comrades alive long enough to outlast a battle--but it was sufficient for now.
"Let me walk," Ti pleaded. "I'll only slow you down if you have to carry me."
They exchanged wary glances. "Are you able," Anakin asked. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," she replied. "How far to our ride?"
"A kilometer," he reported. "It'll be fairly easy going on the return trip. Not much..."
"Stop explaining and get moving," she gasped out. "We don't have much time."
Helping her to her feet, Anakin supported her for a moment as she regained her balance, then followed her back towards the landing site.
Three quarters of a kilometer later, she halted, one hand held in the air. Her chin tilted as though she were an animal, sniffing out her surroundings.
They were trekking parallel to an irrigation ditch that wound silently through the forest. There were no visible dangers or even predatory liabilities.
But Anakin could sense it as well, an urgent tingling of his danger sense.
"Get back," he snapped at Antilles. "This may not be..."
His words were cut off as the Sith attacked. Igniting his saber, he swung it up to parry the vicious thrust that would have driven straight through the hollow of his throat.
Ti was similarly engaged. Anakin was relieved to see that Antilles had sensibly taken cover, choosing to guard them from a hidden position.
The next blow came low, arcing in towards his left hip. Anakin whipped the blade downward in an inelegant, but effective parry, then angled his wrists back towards himself, sidestepping to avoid the blade as it fell from the Sith's hands.
Pivoting on his rear leg, he slashed upward, driving his blade from hip to throat in a single, violent arc. The Sith fell and Anakin bolted for Ti's position.
Antilles took that moment to fire. The Sith turned and deflected it back towards Antilles and Ti landed a glancing blow to his shoulder. Enraged, he slashed in while her blade was still engaged, leaving a wound where the shoulder met the neck.
Anakin stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. The vision.
True to the memory, she raised a trembling hand to probe the wound, her expression bewildered and even frightened. The next swing took her fingers off and bit deeper into her neck.
He was as ineffectual as he had been in the vision.
But he had to try.
"No!"
Anakin rushed forward, driving his saber through the Sith's neck from behind and the warrior fell beside Ti, already dead.
Letting his saber fall from his fingers, Anakin dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms as if holding her could save her.
"Too late," she murmured, blood already streaming from her mouth as steadily as from her neck. "Anakin..."
"I'm here," he rasped. "Hold on, Ti."
Opening a link to her through the Force, he poured every energy he could draw on into her life force, slowing the flow of blood, keeping oxygen in her lungs.
But it was a mechanical gesture. Even before he could reach her mind, she was lost to him.
His eyes snapped open to see her head resting in the crook of his arm, her eyes blank.
A harsh, anguished howl ripped itself from his throat and quickly dissolved into anguished, convulsive cries.
Rocking her, he held tightly to her limp form until the Force came to take its own into its embrace and she disappeared.
*********************************************
"You've been recalled to Coruscant," Obi-Wan said gravely. "The Republic wishes to know first-hand what happened here, at what price this victory came."
Anakin, his eyes dead, his voice hollow, snorted. "I think I can ensure that will be stated, if not explained."
"Anakin..."
"She's dead," he said, his voice unchanged. "I knew what was coming and I did nothing to stop it, nothing to save her until it was too late."
"You mustn't blame..."
"Don't tell me what I must not do," Anakin exploded. "I've had enough of that and I know where the blame lies. I am as much at fault as the Sith who killed her in the first place."
"You can't think that," Obi-Wan pleaded. "I know this is difficult for you to accept..."
"How can you possibly know?"
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan retorted.
Anakin's breath caught in his throat. Yes, Obi-Wan did know what a loss of this magnitude felt like. Perhaps better than Anakin himself.
"You and Commander Antilles will shuttle out within four hours. He will be rebuilding the squadron at Fleet Headquarters."
"Yes, Master," Anakin said, his voice returned to its former state. "Anything else?"
Obi-Wan's eyes closed. "I notified Padme of the event as well as your impending arrival."
"Thank you," Anakin choked out. "I didn't know how I was going to tell her myself. I don't think I ever could."
"I know," Obi-Wan said evenly. "I understand."
Rising, he crossed to Anakin and placed both hands on his shoulders. "The Force has not abandoned you, Anakin, nor those who serve it. It may be impossible to fathom, but there is a purpose for all things. And the Force will be with you, always."
*********************************************
Padme stood with her cloak wrapped tightly about her small form, scanning the skies for any sign of Anakin's shuttle. Coruscant Air Control indicated they should be arriving within minutes, but her anguish lengthened heartbeats into eons.
Ti's death had struck a deep nerve, as though she had lost a family member, a part of herself, of her soul. Perhaps she had.
But to think of what Anakin must be going through, it defied sensation. She could not even begin to imagine it.
The whine of repulsorlifts drew her gaze to the sky once more and she stepped back behind the blast shield, watching as the shuttle made its final approach and landing.
Anakin made his way down the ramp with clearly labored steps. At the base, he halted to gaze at her, then rushed forward and crushed her in an embrace. Padme's arms snaked up to brace him to her, her face buried in his shoulder.
"Anakin," she murmured. "I'm so sorry."
"No more words," he begged. "There have been too many of them and too little real emotion. Please, just hold me."
She was more than willing to comply.
*********************************************
