Burning

Senator Bail Organa, along with Senator Ryou Chuchi and Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard, stepped out of Bail's speeder and onto the landing platform at the Jedi Temple. Two troopers in 501st blue stood guard, and one of them spoke into the comm on his vambrace. A moment later, Master Cin Drallig and a clone in Jedi tunics strode out to meet them.

"Fox!" the clone called. "Where have you been, vod? We've been trying to reach you."

Bail looked back at the Guard commander, who was holding onto Riyo's hand. If the look on the Pantoran senator's face was anything to go by, it was a death grip, but she didn't complain.

When Fox didn't reply, Bail stepped in.

"Master Drallig," he said, bowing to the Jedi. He wasn't sure who the clone was. "Commander," he guessed, nodding.

"Commander Appo of the 501st," the clone said, nodding back.

Master Drallig gave Bail a brief return bow. "You'll forgive me if I forgo the usual pleasantries. We're having a bit of an internal crisis at the moment."

"I've heard some of it," Bail said, nodding to Fox and Riyo. "The commander appointed himself Senator Chuchi's bodyguard about an hour ago, and they came to me with a story about an attack on the Jedi."

"It's true," Master Drallig said. "The clones have biochips implanted in their brains, and we've been working to dechip the 501st, and any Coruscant Guards that shows up."

The two clones guarding the platform removed their helmets briefly to show bacta patches like the one Appo sported, then replaced their helmets.

"Can you take Fox's out?" Riyo asked, stepping closer and pulling Fox along with her.

Master Drallig smiled at her. "Of course." He looked up at the Guard commander. "If he'll agree to enter the Temple and submit to the surgery."

Hesitation was written into every line of the commander's body.

"I'll say with you, Fox," Riyo said, looking up at Fox. She tugged his hand gently. "Let's go."

Bail's heart ached for them. He'd seen the way Riyo watched the Guard commander whenever they were together, and from the way Commander Fox had run to her side at the beginning of this crisis, it seemed he returned her affection. Bail didn't know how they'd met, or come to have feelings for each other, but hopefully there would be time to hear the story later.

When Fox continued to hesitate, Appo stepped forward. "Come on, vod. I'll show you the way to the Halls of Healing. Gar morut'yc, ner vod." He tapped the bacta patch on his right temple. "You won't even miss it."

Appo's presence seemed to ease some of the tension in Fox, and he finally relented to Riyo leading him toward the Temple. The 501st troopers tensed as the Guard commander passed Master Drallig, but it seemed unwarranted as Fox walked by without incident.

Bail turned his attention back to the Jedi. "Biochips?"

Master Drallig sighed and sagged, seeming decades older suddenly. "All the clones have one. It seems they've been ordered to kill the Jedi."

"Why?"

"We don't know. All the clones can tell us is the order came from Darth Sidious."

Bail's knowledge of Jedi history was a little rusty, but . . . "Darth. Isn't that—"

"A Sith title." Master Drallig nodded. "We've been aware of Sidious for a while, and Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker have been actively searching for him, but with no results so far. Right now, we're trying to contact the Jedi in the field. Commander Appo and the 501st have been contacting the other clone battlegroups, to try and get a head count of the Jedi generals and commanders, but—" He grimaced. "It's hit and miss."

"I'll go out in the Sundered Heart," Bail said. "It a diplomatic vessel. I may be able to get into places you can't right now. Give me a list of locations and Jedi to check in with."

He gave Master Drallig his comm frequency the turned and started back toward his speeded.

"Senator," Master Drallig called.

Bail paused.

"Master Kenobi—Obi-Wan—he's one of the ones—"

"I'll find him," Bail interrupted. "I'll bring as many home as I can."

Obi-Wan pulled himself out of the water and tucked his aquata rebreather into his belt. Something was terribly wrong. The blast that had knocked him and Boga off the canyon wall had come from below. Had his men been flanked?

The Force rang with pain-betrayal-sorrow-rage in staggering amounts. His waterlogged comm wasn't working, and he needed to get back to the 212th to find out what was going on. Obi-Wan worked his way stealthily back up toward the levels held by his men, hugging the cavern shadows. He needed to find out what was happening with his men.

Rounding a corner, Obi-Wan startled a patrol of four of his men. To Obi-Wan's astonishment, the troopers raised their blasters toward him. Before he managed to wrap his fingers around his lightsaber hilt, one of the troopers turned on the other three, stunning them all.

"Boil, what's going on?" Obi-Wan demanded, recognizing the trooper's armor.

"We've been ordered to kill all traitors to the Republic, sir," Boil said. "It's not safe for you here."

"Boil—"

The trooper took a step back, half raising his blaster. He quickly lowered it again. Obi-Wan could see his hands shaking.

"You should leave," Boil said. "We can't . . . I can't fight it much longer. I don't want to hurt you, sir, but the order—"

"I need to talk to Cody," Obi-Wan said.

Boil shook his head and took another step back. "You don't understand, sir. Everyone who sees you is going to try to kill you. We've all been compromised."

"Boil." Obi-Wan took a step toward the conflicted trooper.

Boil's blaster came back up, and he flicked the setting off stun. Obi-Wan kept his hand away from his lightsaber hilt. He could feel Boil's emotional struggle and didn't want to give him any reason to do something they'd both regret.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't want to do this, but I can't stop it."

"Alright. I'm leaving. Tell Cody . . . tell the men . . ." Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes. "Well, maybe you'd better not. Goodbye, Boil."

Obi-Wan turned and jogged away, heading for the platform where Grievous' ship had landed. He'd take the ship and head back toward Coruscant and the Temple. For all the gaping silences in the Force where Jedi had once shone brightly, Coruscant still glowed brightly.

/././././

As General Kenobi disappeared down the tunnel, Boil's blaster dropped from his nerveless fingers. He fell to his knees and ripped his bucket off, gasping for air.

"Osik!" He hurled his bucket against the cavern wall with a satisfying crack. "Osik!"

Damn Darth Sidious to the depths of the nine Corellian hells, the seven Sith hells, and any other hells looking to acquire new residents. And his inhibitor chips with him!

Boil sat back on his rump and pulled his legs into his chest, hiding his face in his knees. His whole body shook. He'd nearly shot his general! He thought he might be sick.

There was a burst of static and a tinny voice from his bucket. Boil ignored it in favor of focusing on breathing. Little Force gods, why didn't the ground just open up and swallow him?

"Boil, report," came the small but insistent voice. "Boil, come in."

The voice seemed to be growing louder. Footsteps echoed in the corridor and Boil got to his feet as Trapper and two other troopers came into sight.

"There you are," Trapper said. "The commander got worried when you didn't report in."

"What happened here?" one of the other troopers asked, indicating Boil's stunned squad mates.

"I-I'm not entirely sure," Boil didn't quite lie, bending down to retrieve his bucket.

Trapper nudged one of the downed troopers and the man groaned. "We've got to get back to the ships," he said. "We've been ordered to Mustafar."

"Mustafar?" Boil frowned. "What the kark's on Mustafar?"

"The Separatist leaders, apparently. The commander just got the orders. Lord Sidious has instructed the 212th to eliminate them."

Bly walked slowly through the humid heat of Felucia. He pulled off his left rerembrace and dropped it to the ground. There was a trail of armor parts behind him, and he was down to just his boots, vambraces, and utility belt. He'd shot his general. He didn't deserve to wear the armor anymore.

He didn't know what he was without Aayla.

He'd been created to be a commander. Bred and trained to be the leader of the troops under a Jedi general.

He'd been born to be a protector to the Jedi. To be an advisor. A tool.

He and Aayla had become so much more.

And he'd murdered her with his own hands.

Aayla lay where she'd fallen. Her skin a vibrant blue against the mud.

A wounded moan tore from Bly's throat as he fell to his knees next to her still form. He touched her head gently.

"Ni ceta, cyare," he whispered brokenly.

His fingertips brushed down one of her lekku and her body twitched.

Bly froze.

He'd shot her; in the back where the wound shouldn't have been mortal, but he'd still shot her. He'd hoped it would be enough to convince the others she was dead. The kill order would have been fulfilled. But then his kriffing platoon had opened fire. Aayla had fallen amidst too many blaster bolts to count. Deviss had practically had to drag him back to camp afterward as he went into shock.

But now, as Bly really looked at her, there were only superficial blaster burns on her body. The ground and foliage surrounding her was peppered with scorching. He rolled her over and pulled her halfway into his lap, trying to keep her wounds from touching the muck on the ground.

"Aayla," he murmured, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Cyare?"

"Bly."

It was so soft, he almost missed it.

Her hazel eyes opened.

He didn't even try to hold back the harsh sob that left him. He caught her hand as she reached for him and pressed it against his cheek.

"Ni ceta, Aayla. Ni ceta. Ni ceta. I'm so sorry, cyare." The words poured from him like a waterfall of grief and self-recrimination.

"Bly," she whispered. "Ma sareen."

He pressed her palm against his lips and kissed it. "I've got to get you out of here."

He slid his arm behind her back and beneath her knees and stood. Aayla moaned in pain and turned her face into his chest.

An engine whined somewhere nearby, and Bly nearly panicked. His heart was thudding painfully against his ribs. He had to get her somewhere safe. But where? The clones had been ordered to kill their Jedi. Nowhere was safe.

"Bly! Where are you, vod?"

Bly spun toward the approaching figure, a snarl on his face. Deviss slowly stepped into view, his hands raised to show they were empty. He looked at Aayla cradled in Bly's arms.

"Is she still dead?" the captain asked.

Still? Bly didn't look down at Aayla, but it took an effort. "Yes?"

Deviss gave him a small smile. "Do you need to check, commander."

What in all the Sith-hells was going on?

"No," Bly said firmly. "She's dead."

Deviss nodded. "I thought so. Considering how many troopers shot at her."

Shot at her. Not shot her. Bly didn't miss the careful wording the other trooper used.

Deviss jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I brought a fighter. In case you wanted to take her body back to Coruscant. There's a couple of medipacs in there for any wounds you may need to take care of."

"Why would I take her to Coruscant? There's no one left at the Temple to see to her final rites."

The Jedi had been branded as traitors to the Republic. Order 66 would ensure the clones put down all traitors.

"Yeah, you were pretty out of it when the Temple commed."

A spark of hope flared in Bly's chest, and he felt Aayla shift in his arms. "What did I miss, vod?"

"Seems the Temple has an infestation of 501st troopers. The vod I spoke with said something about a chip in their—our—heads, and the Jedi healers are taking it out."

Aayla shook in his arms. He didn't know if she was laughing or crying. Probably both.

"Thank you, Deviss," Bly said.

The captain nodded. "We'll see if we can't do something our boys' chips when we get back to our Venator."

Bly nodded, and Deviss turned to go, then paused.

"Ryma gesu'tak allesh, General," he murmured, then disappeared into the fungi forest.

"Coordinates set, 'alor," Silk said.

The Theelin Mandalorian turned her seat to face the rest of them. All the Mandalorians had removed their helmets, except Paz. Padmé sensed a story behind that.

She was a little disappointed that they'd gotten away from Coruscant. The fact that someone could kidnap a Jedi Knight and a senator and make it off world without a shot being fired didn't speak too highly of the Coruscant Security Force's abilities.

On the other hand, when their captor—Din Djarin, ruler of Mandalore in his time, if his tale was to be believed—had explained to her what had happened at the Jedi Temple—and Fox had assured her that Commander Appo would try to smooth things over with the Jedi—she decided that it made a skewed sort of sense. She supposed there was no reason for the Jedi to give chase if they knew they had a way to keep in contact with their missing Knight.

Padmé was pretty sure that her handmaidens would either contact CSF about her apparent kidnapping, or come after her themselves. She was also very okay with not being the middle of an aerial firefight in her current condition. As if to emphasize the point, one of the little ones inside her decided to sit on her kidney, making her wince.

"Where are you taking us?" Anakin asked.

The little green child sat in her husband's lap. Din's Mandos had protested at first, but with Anakin's hands bound behind his back, and his Force powers suppressed, Din had said he wasn't much of a threat.

The mand'alor sat forward in his seat and fixed Padmé's husband with an assessing stare.

"To the wreckage of the Venator-class Star Destroyer Tribunal, and hopefully Ahsoka Tano."

Padmé felt the blood drain from her face.

"What do you mean 'wreckage'?" Anakin snarled. "Did Bo-Katan attack my men after all they did for her?"

He struggled against the Force-suppression cuffs and his eyes flashed yellow. Padmé shuddered. She and Ani were going to have a long talk about some of the things Din had accused him of.

The child cooed from his place in Anakin's lap and patted his leg soothingly.

Din shook his head. "It was Maul. When the clones attacked Ahsoka in response to Order 66, she set Maul free as a distraction so she could get to Rex and remove his inhibitor chip."

"Lies," Anakin spat. "Time travel doesn't exist."

"You'll see," Din said, sinking back in his chair.

Padmé was inclined to believe Din's tale of time travel. Unless he was an amazing storyteller, he knew too many details about things he shouldn't. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wished she'd been able to bring Dormé with her. Her handmaiden had been training in midwife techniques ever since she'd found out Padmé was pregnant. Also, another woman in the midst of all these men would be comforting. Silk didn't seem like she was the comforting type.

"Time is of the essence," Din said. "Ahsoka said she and Rex spent several days pulling troopers from the wreckage of the Tribunal. They found a few survivors to begin with, but due to their injuries and the lack of medical facilities, she and the captain ended up burying all the men they found. If we want to save any of your troopers, we need to get there fast."

Anakin made a wounded sound low in his throat. The child patted him again.

"But Ahsoka and Rex survived?" Padmé clarified.

"Yes, and we have the chance to save more," Aedo said. The Nautolan looked to his leader. "Silk and I snagged a few medical supplies from the gunships in the hanger where we found the shuttle, but it won't be enough. We need to call for help."

"Our closest ally would be Mandalore," Din said. He looked at Anakin then Padmé. "Unless you know someone closer?"

Padmé shifted in her seat again, trying to ease the pain growing in her back. She could see Anakin thinking, trying to work out strategy. She let out a groan as she struggled to her feet. Fox offered her his arm and she hung on gladly. Every man in the shuttle was staring at her, and she blushed.

"Padmé," Anakin said, worried.

She waved his concern away. "My back hurts. I just need to stand for a bit."

Balling her free hand into a fist and digging it into her lower back eased the pain a bit.

Anakin watched her a moment more, then turned to Din. "There were two more Venators sent with the Tribunal to Mandalore. If they haven't left yet, I could redirect them to . . . wherever we're headed."

Din nodded thoughtfully. "We don't want them getting there before us though. As long as the clones are chipped, they'll try to kill anyone they see as a traitor. Right now, that includes Ahsoka and Rex." The mand'alor turned to his Nautolan warrior. "Aedo, you have aliit on Vorpa'ya, correct."

Aedo nodded, reluctantly. "My mother's aliit. But 'alor, what do I tell them?"

"Tell them the truth," Din said. "It's worked for us so far." He eyed Anakin. "Mostly."

Aedo sighed and headed to the front of the shuttle where the communications equipment was located.

Pain pulsed low in Padmé's abdomen and she breathed through it as Dormé had taught her. Fox slanted her a sideways look and she patted his arm.

"I'm fine," she murmured.

And she was. The pain passed, as she had known it would. Padmé had resigned herself months ago to giving birth without Anakin at her side, seeing as he was needed so badly at the warfront with the 501st. But now, he was here. They would welcome their babies together. When this was all over, she thought she might just hug Din Djarin for kidnapping her husband and thank him.

When the next contraction hit, Anakin was deep in discussion of possible plans to rescue Rex and Ahsoka, and he didn't notice her hand clench on Fox's arm.

"My lady . . . " the trooper whispered.

"No need to panic yet," she assured him. She forced a smile. "We should have a few hours before anyone needs to start boiling some water."

Rex took a long drink from his canteen then stretched until his back popped. He'd pulled fifteen of his men from the wreckage of the Tribunal so far. Only seven were still alive. His next trip in, Rex determined he'd head for the med bay. He needed supplies to care for his brothers if he was going to do more than watch them die.

He also needed to get to the sub-levels and see if there was any potable water left. With the task ahead of him, he didn't have time to wander around looking for water. Then he'd go to the galley to look for salvageable food.

Rex checked his comm again and cursed in frustration. Without the Venator's communications array to boost the signal, his wrist comm was too weak to send a call for help. He'd just have to hope that when the Tribunal didn't check in that someone sent a search party. He refused to think of how long it might take for help to arrive, seeing as they'd been ripped from hyperspace prematurely and he didn't know where they'd crashed.

He looked over at Ahsoka again. Perhaps when she woke, she could take the fighter up past the atmosphere and see if she could get a signal out. If he could get enough resources together for a few days and get the men stable enough, Ahsoka could even head back to Mandalore for help.

A groan from one of the survivors summoned Rex, and he hurried to the man's side. "Captain," the wounded man groaned.

"Just rest, Fis," Rex said. He started to remove Fis' armor. There was no visible blood and Rex cursed his lack of medical knowledge. "I'll get you fixed up."

"S-sorry, captain," Fis whimpered. "Had m-my orders."

"I know, Fis." He could see the other man slipping away and gripped his hand. Whatever his injuries were, Rex wouldn't be able to save him. "It's okay, ner vod. I forgive you."

"Commander T-Tano?"

"She's forgiven you too." Rex didn't think Ahsoka would mind him speaking on her behalf. "Udesiir, vod. I've got you."

Fis relaxed and the light went out of his eyes.

Rex bowed his head and covered his face with a hand. His body shook with the emotions coursing through him. So many brothers fallen. And for what? Someone else's greed. Someone else's vengeance.

After several more shuddering breaths, he raised his red rimmed eyes and forced himself to his feet. He had work to do.

Notes:

After watching the Victory and Death episode again in preparation to write parts of this chapter, I have thoughts on the positioning of the Tribunal's wreckage. When we last see the ship diving through the clouds as Rex and Ahsoka fly away, it looks like it's going to nose dive into the ground, which in my mind, would have resulted in a much different wreckage than we see in the final scenes.

So, my thought is that Ahsoka grabbed the nose of the Tribunal with the Force and managed to bring it up enough for the ship to crash/slide, rather than just nosedive, which I feel may also have resulted in a few more clones not dying outright in the crash. This effort, combined with trying to hold onto the shuttle Maul is stealing, and the wounds she receives, plus the Force energy expended during the escape would have knocked her out for a while.

Mando'a:

Ni ceta - sorry (literally: I kneel. groveling apology)

Cyare - beloved

Gar morut'yc - you're safe

Ner vod - my brother

Udesiir - relax, take it easy

Ryl:

Ma sareen - my sweet

Ryma gesu'tak allesh - Mother give you safety