It was a hardened crew that could brave Mustafar's atmosphere unwelcomed. Hardened or mad.

Or, in this case, both.

Crimson light flooded the ship, covering the faces of the troops with a uniform bloodlike glow. They were shaken, the exhaustion of flying a ship through an electromagnetic storm without a damper would shake anyone. It was that same fear, a fear they hadn't felt in the weeks since the war ended. It was that same fear they'd had when they were shinies, and though it subsided, that fear never went away.

But neither did the thrill.

The thrill of serving under Anakin Skywalker. The thrill of his voice throwing commands across the room, commands that wouldn't reach your ears until the last possible second. A madman, and a genius, he'd walked through the flames unscathed time and time again, and somehow always carry them through with him.

And when it was over, the gasp for air, the breath of relief, hardly a moment to collect your thoughts, it was only another calm before the storm.

Waves of magma crashed below the ship as it approached the landing, a far cry from the serene lakes of Naboo, and a cruel mimicry. Anakin pursed his lips, staring, as a man in a trance as the waves lapped the obsidian shores. He couldn't look away, the more he tried the more their callous rhythm dragged him back, back to that place in his mind he so desired to escape. The journey through the storm had shaken him, more in fact than he cared to admit. All throughout it he'd been a madman, giving commands as they flew through his mind, when really, he had no idea what he was doing.

That part of the mission had happened so fast he could hardly remember it. Only after, as sighs of relief echoed throughout the bridge had it hit him. Was he so callous with his own life? With the lives of others? This part of him, this recklessness he'd been praised for its time and time again by the chancellor. No, by Darth Sidious, the man who'd lured him to the darkside. Or perhaps, he'd done that himself. He remembered days, throughout the war, days when flashes of rage would come over him and he'd feel almost nothing at all. Yet he felt everything.

Was it the same thing when he took command? Could what he'd often perceived as the best parts of himself, really be called good at all? Perhaps all his life, he'd walked that fine line between light and dark without knowing it. And perhaps… a new fear awakened in him, a feeling that made is stomach churn.

Padme had lived through childbirth before her time. She'd done it without Sidious, without the darkside, and without him. Had he- No! He shook his head. He could hardly bear thinking of it. But if he had, his intentions, what he believed to be the good in him, surely would have meant her death.

"Anakin"

Jedi were forbidden from having attachments.

"Anakin"

He'd formed one, the moment he'd met her. An angel he'd called her, and she was.

"Anakin!"

But what was he?

"Anakin!"

His eyes flashed as he became aware of a presence behind him. A hand about to seize him by the shoulder. grasping at his shoulder. Immediately her whirled round on his heel, one hand fell to his lightsaber, while the other caught the hand of the perpetrator in its iron grip. A fire had overtaken his eyes, the violent and roaring overtaking the mad and clever.

He would not be dragged away from his family.

No matter the cost, he would protect them

"Anakin‽" the alarmed voice of his padawan stung his ears.

The bloody haze that had become his vision cleared and in a moment of confusion he stumbled backwards, falling hard on his knee against the floor of the ship, still in motion.

He inhaled sharply, rubbing the leg that had skidded against the ground and shook his head as he tried to stand up. His vision still felt hazy, his mind clouded, and he found himself touching his fingers to the side of his head, as if that would help.

A sharp hiss of breath brought him back to the present, where he realized in horror who's gentle wrist he had grasped so violently.

"Ahsoka…" he stammered scrambling to his feet; he thrust forward a gloved hand to help her. How deeply it stung when, out of instinct, she shrank from it.

"Ahsoka I…" he faltered. He had no excuse, no explanation. A stinging bile rose in his throat, he had done many things in his life, but none with the rage with which he'd attacked his padawan just now. How many times had she laid her life on the line for him? She'd been just a kid in a war, yet she'd trusted him with her life, and this was how he repaid her. With his hand just centimeters away from his lightsaber?

"It's fine," she said, brushing herself off, but there was a tremor in her voice that told of some clandestine worry. Her eyes fell to her wrist, which she was stretching with clenched teeth.

"Sorry I startled you," she apologized with the best air of nonchalance she could muster, "You just, looked really worried." With a quick nod she stepped away, and though he stepped forward as if to speak further, he ultimately seemed too dazed at the moment to do anything.

She hurried across the bridge and out to the connecting hall, the soft clank of her footsteps echoing as she went, something about their familiar pitter patter notably off, at least to the perceptive ear. And it was the perceptive ear of one Commander CT-7567 that did notice that slight difference in the rhythm he'd grown used to those past three years. The steps, though still filled with life and power, were carrying an added weight.

Once out of earshot, the young togruta breathed out a sigh, so deep and heavy it seemed to carry the weight of the world with it. She hadn't been prepared for that.

She should have been prepared for that.

"Ahsoka?"

She sighed, this time softer, and breathed in deeply. Without turning she knew who had spoken, though the voice was one she'd heard many times from many different people. Only one man said her name like that.

"Rex…" she began. She turned to him, her face was composed, but her wide blue eyes glistened with fear. He regarded her with tenderness and leaned forward, though not much, for she was taller than she used to be when the war had broken out. Smiling, he remembered how fearless and headstrong, she'd been, how unmarred by the horrors of war. He sighed, they had all been like that once. He brought his hand forward to bestow a comforting pat on her shoulder. She leaned into his hand and he allowed it to remain there. The mask of composure dissolved, and her countenance fell,

"You alright little'un?" he asked, though he knew she was not.

Her brow was knit as she cast her gaze to the floor, "It's Anakin," she cast a glance toward the bridge as she spoke, as if even as she spoke her fears might come to fruition, "I feel like something terrible is going to happen."

They fell silent, both knew what the other was thinking,

Maul.

Ahsoka sucked in her breath through clenched teeth. A cold shiver overcame her at the recollection. And without ever intending to her hand was suddenly in Rex's squeezing his fingers until her own had gone bone pale.

'…He is the key to everything,'

'To bring balance to the force?'

His golden eyes blazed, 'To destroy."

Memories once emblazoned in her mind were now dulled by the passage of time. Experience had blurred them till they were nearly forgotten. Nearly.

Now they clamored to be heard.

Mortis

'There is a wildness to you young one. Seeds of the dark side planted by your master.

Do you feel it?'

The ship jerked forward with a thud. Ahsoka lurched, her feet flew one in front of the other attempting to regain balance. Rex caught her by the arm and steadied her, using his other to prop himself against the wall. Their eyes met.

"We're here."