In War

Pt 3

Anakin Skywalker had once been a small, tow-headed boy who skipped, laughed, and played. However, the years and various circumstances had changed him.

Anakin reached out with the Force, crushing a battle droid with a quick clench of his mechanical fist, flinging it into its comrades—

For some reason, in the last ten to twelve years of his young life, people had seemed to be intimidated by him. He began to notice it around the time he turned thirteen years old—the whispers, the edgy stares, the wide breadth younglings would give him in the Jedi Temple's large corridors. At first, he had been somewhat baffled and a little hurt by the avoidance behaviors of his peers. However, as time wore on, he started to appreciate the distance, the respect from both his peers and enemies alike.

Skywalker spun, decapitating the remaining guards with a few quick swoops of his lightsaber—

The nervousness and the fear from others meant that he had proved that he was no one to be trifled with.

The Jedi General paused. His target was close by. The Force shuddered with the thick cloud of fear and pain that hung just beyond that door. He stabbed his azure saber blade into the durasteel cell door, slicing through the metal as if it were a piece of flimsy—

Nevertheless, there were days when Skywalker did not enjoy this instinctive anxiousness that he seemed to instill in those around him. There were days when he longed for a more comforting aura to give to those that he aided.

Today is one of those days. Anakin fought back a wry, ironic smile, his heart simultaneously sinking as he saw the small, huddle figure in the corner of the cell. Every muscle in the prisoner's body shook with barely suppressed terror.

Anakin rushed forward, "Padawan Ino?"

The learner flinched, cowering away from the outstretched hand. Large, drug-dilated grey eyes stared up at the General, mistrusting him.

"I'm here to help," Skywalker paused, confused for a moment. Intel had said there were two Jedi being held captive. He clearly only saw one. He infused his voice with serenity and patience. "We need to hurry. Where is your Master?"

Grief surged through the Force, darkening the cell with its fury. Anakin reinforced his mental shielding as the Padawan's defenses began to fray and crumble under the weight of pain and the drugs that forced her into submission. That answered his question well enough. The unspoken hung between the two Jedi: dead. At a closer inspection of the Unifying Force, Anakin could sense the truth behind her grief. The Force reeked of sweat, agony, and tears.

"I am here to help you," Anakin restated, advancing slowly. He opened his hands in a nonthreatening gesture.

"That's what they said b-before—" Betrayal. Death. Electricity sizzling, bringing flashing, white-hot pain. Simmering anger. Revulsion as dignity was stripped away piece by piece. Emotion quaked beneath the surface of the youth's exhausted mumbling as the Jedi apprentice struggled to release her feelings to the elusive Force.

Anakin's commlink beeped. Ahsoka's voice crackled through the air. "Master, the ship's ready. You need to come now!"

"Got it, Snips."

He turned to regard the drugged teenager in the corner. "I know this doesn't make sense to you now. You're confused. But you're coming with me. Can you stand?"

Violently shaking hands pushed against the wall. She took one step then promptly collapsed to the ground with a resounding, defeated thud.

That complicates things. Anakin shifted his saber to his right hand and bent down, pulling the apprentice over his shoulders in a rescue carry. He craned his neck around the opening that he had cut through the door. Sensing no danger, Anakin began the mad dash back to their shuttle.

"Please—my Master—No," weak thrashing and squirming nearly threw the General off balance as he skidded around the corner into the last long corridor that would lead to the hangar. Blasterfire burned a hole in a bulkhead where he had been standing moments before.

Anakin tensed, clamping his free hand tighter around the arm of the Padawan slung across his shoulders. There was no time for comfort.

Danger, Jedi. Danger is coming. The Force whispered fervently in his heart, speeding his movements into a Force enhanced sprint. They entered the hangar to face a maelstrom of red intersecting with blue, the ever-faithful clone troopers that accompanied him provided cover as he began to cross the last distance to relative safety.

Skywalker raced to the mouth of the ramp to meet Ahsoka who guarded the entrance to the shuttle, twin sabers blazing. He quickly passed off his burden to his Padawan, who hauled the other apprentice inside. "Go!" Anakin waved the troopers inward, signaling a quick retreat.

Padawan Nurah Ino was in hell.

At least that was how she felt. For days, she had been locked in a prison of her own making, the bars crafted by mind-drugs and helpless grief. When the blonde Jedi had appeared in her cell, her first reaction was intense, distinctly un-Jedi fear.

The last time someone had offered to aid in her escape, she and her Master had taken it, only to—

No. No. No. She curled tightly in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

This time, she had not been given a choice as to whether to trust the stranger who came to her cell. His commanding, intimidating presence had barged into her drug induced haze and demanded that she come.

Ino swallowed the despair that had settled into a cold lump in the back of her throat. Years of training reprimanded her. There is no emotion, there is peace. She was dimly aware of the medical droid working on her, applying bacta to all her visible wounds, inserting an IV into her arm to flush the toxins from her system. The Force began to trickle back into her awareness as the drugs began to seep out of her blood.

Finally, with the assurance that the Force had not left her forever, she allowed her world to fade to blissful black.

All was quiet in hyperspace. Most of the shuttle's crew had drifted off into sleep. Ahsoka was dozing, a datareader draped across her stomach.

Anakin, however, could not find rest. He growled, slinging his legs over the edge of the bunk in a moment of frustration. How could he rest when Padwan Ino felt and thought so loudly? His irritation dissipated quickly as the chill of her unshielded emotions crept across the floor, causing an involuntary shudder to race up his spine.

He hesitated as his feet touched the floor. She was not his apprentice. He was not responsible for her, to some extent. But he was a compassionate man. Though countless battles had taken much of his innocence and joy, the war had not yet stolen his compassion. Anakin crept through the shuttle to the medical bay.

Ino tossed and turned, silver hair creating a disheveled, dirty halo around her young face. Tears tracked down her face. Innocence lost. Darkness. Blood. Anakin hesitated, not sure what to do. Nightmares.

The decision was made for him as the Padawan jerked to half-wakefulness, eyes wide and unseeing with terror. She frantically jerked at the patches that covered her torso, pulling at the IV, caught between waking and dreaming.

Anakin reached out, grasping her thin wrists in his hands. "Padawan Ino, wake up. You're safe. Stop—" She fought him harder. Anakin took a deep breath, wracking his brain for her first name… "Nurah. Nurah. Calm down."

At the sound of her name, the young woman stilled, eyes focusing on the large hands that gripped hers, then frantically darting up to see concerned blue eyes staring down at her.

Tears. Desperate, unrestrained tears distorted her vision as weeks of mistreatment and memories assailed her. She clutched at the Jedi Knight, weeping soft apologies, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm normally not like this. I just can't—"

Anakin froze at the sudden shift of events. The only woman he had ever held in his arms was Padme, and those experiences were typically filled with longing joy and desperate abandonment of all of the galaxy's problems. To hold a weeping stranger was something that Skywalker was unfamiliar with.

The Hero Without Fear froze. For a brief moment, he wished Obi-Wan were there. His mentor always seemed to know how to comfort even the most pathetic of lifeforms. Anakin banished the brief desire for rescue. He was a Jedi Knight. He could handle this. Though he knew little about comforting a distraught woman outside of his own wife, he knew what loss felt like. He knew gut-wrenching horror and pain.

So, the Jedi General allowed the quaking Padawan to hold onto him, an anchor in the midst of a hurricane of emotion. After several long minutes, her crying ceased. Unclouded grey eyes stared up at Anakin. A bright flush crept across the apprentice's cheeks.

A soft, choked laugh emerged in the form of a raspy sob. "I-I'm sorry. I don't even know your name. Usually I at least buy someone dinner before something like this happens."

Anakin sighed and winced at the failed, awkward humor. Yes, Obi-Wan would have been better suited for comforting this girl. "I'm Anakin Skywalker." He cleared his throat, feeling unsuitably uncomfortable. He ruthlessly squashed the awkwardness that threatened to steal his composure.

"Oh...oh." Recognition dawned on the younger Jedi and she quickly released Anakin's hands, scrambling away from him. "I-I'm so, so sorry, Knight Skywalker—"

Anakin waved her apology away. "No need to apologize. You've been drugged. You were having a nightmare. I understand."

Nervous silence ensued.

Anakin cleared his throat again, suddenly aware of his sweaty palms. How did it get so blazing hot in this medical bay? He shook his head minutely. He was a Jedi Knight, for Force sake. He was the Chosen One. He should know how to comfort a grieving child.

"I am sorry for your loss, Padawan," he managed.

Grey eyes became stony.

Anakin stopped. What else was there to say? There is no death, there is the Force? Those words rang hollow in his heart. He knew all too well what it was like to lose a mother. He could only imagine that losing a Master because of grisly torture could feel similarly.

Anger. There was so much anger swirling in those eyes. Anakin opened his mouth, but his words failed him again. Yes, I know how you feel. After mom died... Anakin couldn't finish the thought. Anger is normal for those who have been hurt? That wouldn't work. That was against the Jedi Code. There is no emotion, there is peace?

"I'm sorry," Anakin settled on the only true statement that he could say without sounding like a heretic. He hung his head, feeling defeated. Perhaps he truly was as intimidating and awkward as all of his peers believed him to be. "I'll leave you to rest. Would you like a sedative?" Anakin stood, but was halted by desperate fingers clinging to his wrist.

"No—No more drugs. Please…just stay with me? Just until I fall asleep again?"

The Knight turned and resettled into his seat. "Of course." If that was the only comfort he was capable of giving, then that was what he would do.

The Jedi General sat with the frightened Padawan until her shuddering breathing evened out and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.