A/N: Thank y'all so much for the reviews. I held on to this one in order to celebrate today's event— Hayden and Ewan (and Vivien!) sitting for a panel at Star Wars Celebration in London! It's so awesome to see them back & feeling the love from fans, especially for Hayden. Fingers are forever crossed that we see Natalie with them one day so a prequel trio reunion can finally take place.

In the meantime...

Chapter 37. The Fall

He who is brave
is free

- Seneca

As if they'd burst forth from the sun itself, a half-dozen gunships descended at liberating speed. Each dark wingspan was an answered prayer to our ragged and wounded falling under their shadow.

When the lowest ship neared enough for its passengers to be visible, my eyes were drawn not to the white-armored riders, not to the black blasters in their arms as long as my leg, but to the minute form standing amongst them. He was supported by a familiar brown walking cane, and yet it was those green ears that made him unmistakable.

Jedi Master Yoda.

The roaring thunder of battle resumed its sonata in swell with our primal optimism. Survival was once again within reach. Defiant sabers rose while thick bolts rained down from the sky. Luckily, most of the droids immediately recognized that their biggest threat now came from above, not from us down below, and they targeted the gunships while we targeted them.

The warriors apparently fighting for our rescue expertly maneuvered their ships, wiping out vast numbers of droids with blinding speed while simultaneously avoiding the survivors huddle. Upward waterfalls of sand launched into the air as green composite-beams pulverized with precision. Droidekas and B2 super battle droids either melted or exploded like fireworks depending on where they were hit. The scrawny B1 droids were blasted into disintegration.

Anakin's lightsaber was a savage constant in my right periphery. High and low he stretched, deflecting bolts as much aimed for me as those for him. Despite the stunning velocity with which moved— coming close to my firing arm and head multiple times with his swing— I had absolute trust in him and worried only about my blaster finding its mark.

From their chairs in bubbles alongside the nose of the ships, gunners mowed down our enemies in the immediate circle around us. They're establishing a perimeter to get us out of here! When the first transport lowered to an accessible height, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

But then a blip of confusion pulsed through me. The beige gunships bore an instantly recognizable insignia— a black, eight-spoked cog inside a circle. It belonged not to any one planet, sector, system, or corporation. It was the symbol of the Galactic Republic.

Devoid of time to think any more on this, I fired one last series of goodbye shots then followed the golden warrior at my right. All survivors were splintering to get to their nearest gunship— and rapidly. With the dropping of the transports to ground-level, we were once again receiving a barrage of lethal energy bolts from the hundreds of droids still standing. White-armored protectors jumped from the ships and provided the necessary coverage for our escape.

Rush, rush, rush.

Anakin hopped into the chosen transport first with his impossibly long legs. He'd barely steadied his own body before turning and extending his right hand to me. Blue eyes bore into mine as intensely as if he were helping me out of a water speeder, and a smile curved his parted lips. At my touch, he gripped my hand tightly and pulled me into the vessel with a sturdy step backwards.

Perhaps it's because I was conscious of Obi-Wan Kenobi at my back. He was still deflecting bolts with his own saber but was fast at my heels to board too. Maybe it's because the reality that we were going to live beyond the execution order was in the early seconds of sinking in. Without question, a large part of it was the unfettered adoration I saw in Ani's face when he offered his hand. There was relief and joy in that expression which had nothing to do with our averting annihilation. Whatever the exact source, the result was the same. For a split-second— just as my last boot lifted off the arena's sand— I felt dread writhe in the pit of my stomach.

I'd told Anakin I loved him when I was certain we were going to die. But now we weren't.

By the time I turned around, the present world of battle won back my full attention. Obi-Wan leaped onto the landing seconds before liftoff, and I'm immensely grateful he did. Two of the white-clad soldiers perched themselves on the edge of the ship as a third, just a few steps away from safety, flew backwards when he was struck by a fatal shot. We were under direct fire from a nearby pair of super battle droids single-focused on stopping us. Quick action with Kenobi's blue beam saved his Padawan's thigh from having a hole blown through it. Anakin, to my chagrin, wasn't in a position to defend himself on account of the way he was using his wide back to block me from the droids' attack.

As we ascended into refuge, our eyes swept the smoking and scarred scene. My breath caught when I took in the fallen Jedi left behind in the death field. Side-stepping over a few of them as I'd stumbled my way to the survivors circle had not prepared me for the impossible number of bodies now visible from above.

A large, reddish-brown mound lay on its side not far from where we'd airlifted out. It was surreal to see a creature who recently moved with such ferocious life converted to eternal calm. Further off was a green and white mess of severed limbs. My mind flashed back to the electric poles the Geonosians used to goad their imprisoned executioners into the ring.

The last sight I had of the Petranaki arena was the abandoned and slanted execution carriage, scorched in dark streaks by blaster burns. From our new distance, it looked like a tiny, sunken ship on the bottom of a drained seabed.

My focus switched as the two men who'd been firing from the edge rose and stationed themselves behind us. One— I think the fighter on my left— was asking on the location of a command center. It was difficult to glean which helmeted man was speaking with the wind whipping through the open hub and the steady thrum of the transport's engine.

However, inexplicably, something about his timbre caught my attention.

That voice…

The same soldier— though, my mind must be playing tricks on me, for it now looks like the man beside him is speaking— made another tactical inquiry. A third soldier, one directly in front of us, nodded back. "Affirmative! The front line is two klicks east. They're coming under heavy fire."

I was less concentrated on what they were saying than on the sound coming out of the helmet speakers when they said it. The voices seemed so identical I would've thought the soldiers were twins, or triplets. Odd as that was, it didn't explain the anxiety creeping its way up my spine.

I searched Anakin's face, and my right to be suspicious was confirmed in the tense clench of his jaw. We shared a quick look, conveying mutual alarm with a tag-team of bent eyebrows.

Moving a heartbeat later in perfect synchronization, I had my blaster up and aimed just as Anakin raised his lightsaber threateningly. But our united understanding of the situation had unexpectedly split down the middle. His weapon was pointed at the man nearest to the cockpit, and mine at the man behind us on my left.

"Remove your helmet!" Anakin's voice bellowed louder than the engine at his man, taking a step towards him. "Now!"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan put a flat palm across the advancing chest. His own blade was still activated but he kept it low at his side. "Hold!"

My confusion magnified at the Jedi Master's immediate intervention, but I kept my blaster aimed at the man behind me. He did not move to defend himself, nor did the one with a saber near his neck. My thoughts raced. I couldn't explain how or why the bounty hunter sneaked aboard our rescue ship disguised as a friendly, but this was obviously a trap. "He's the assassin partnered with the Count!"

Anakin nodded after my exclamation. "We recognize his voice!" Here, though, even Anakin sent me a confused look. He seemed to be as certain that his soldier was the bounty hunter as I was about mine.

"Calm yourself, Padawan! Senator Amidala! Neither of these men is who you think they are." Obi-Wan put himself directly in front of Anakin, who had to immediately adjust his blade to keep it from singeing him. "Don't let your ears deceive you. Feel it in the Force. Is this the same man you saw with Dooku?"

After a few seconds, Anakin's response was the slow lowering and deactivation of his saber, and the horizontal lines deepening on his forehead. "How?" He met my eye; I lowered my blaster warily.

"Clones," Obi-Wan answered, as if that word alone explained everything. His blue-green gaze shifted to me. The base of his hair whipped around the nape of his neck. "These are clones of the man you saw, but they are on our side, Senator." At my widened eyes, he added, "I'll explain if we make it out of here alive."

I opened my mouth to ask a question anyway but shut it when my focus was wholly diverted again. As we passed a mountain, countless industrial globes— Trade Federation starships— came into sight. They were positioned on the surface in deep port holes. Outnumbering them and nearer to us were at least a dozen Techno Union interstellar transports. Our herd of gunships banked hard around the mountain towards the Confederacy crop. Almost immediately, we came under fire from defensive artillery on the ground.

Despite this, I took a few steps towards the sprawling view in utter disbelief.

I wasn't stunned to see that the Separatists had warships. I was stunned to realize we had a massive military force on the ground pointed in their direction.

Cruisers I'd never seen in any briefing coasted high over the terrain of Geonosis. From them disembarked tens— no, hundreds of thousands of white-armored soldiers. Armored tanks were peppered throughout the battalions in every direction.

Suddenly, orange bolts flew closer than ever in a near-miss of our ship. Our pilot maneuvered quickly to dodge them, sending our horizon teetering. "Hold on," Obi-Wan advised, grabbing the silver overhead bar buried in black netting in the ceiling of the hub. I needed no further encouragement to do the same, though I only briefly tore my eyes away from the scene of war unfolding on the planet's surface. It made the "battlefield" of the arena look like a playground fight gone badly. Anakin moved away from the clone soldier he'd almost decapitated, positioned himself between Obi-Wan and me, and gripped the tether too. He looked as shocked as I was.

The gunners of our transport wisely if futility focused their fire at the Techno Union ships. They failed to make more than a dent. Confidence lacing his tone, Anakin shouted, "Aim right above the fuel cells!"

Straightaway, the pilot discharged two laser canons from the top of our aircraft. Twin smoke streams screamed towards their destination, culminating in a volcanic explosion in the middle of the target. The gunship narrowly avoided the blast with a hard bank to the right.

Obi-Wan turned to deliver his praise. "Good call, my young Padawan!"

Soldiers. Ships. Ground and air artillery support. As a Galactic Senator, I had top security clearance, and my office was kept aware of the latest military developments in the Republic and of what we knew about the Confederacy's operations. Despite the best efforts of peacekeepers, the Separatist crisis had been building for years, and many hadn't wanted to wait until legislation was passed in the Senate to start preparing. Planetary contracts with the industrial war complex had been drawn up and construction begun, but I'd never seen anything like what was before me in any briefing.

Anakin was having a rosy moment of receiving positive feedback. I interrupted it with a pointed question to the Jedi who seemed to learn some vital things in his investigations. "Who are these soldiers? Where did they come from?"

Obi-Wan alternated between looking out of the open gunship and peering over his shoulder at me. "They're from a planet called Kamino!"

I shook my head. I knew of the many planets just itching to contribute a mobilized army for the Republic. I'd never heard of Kamino. "Are they all clones?!"

Obi-Wan's eyes were transfixed on the ground, where lightsabers— small but vivid— could be seen leading troops into battle. He nodded before he answered, "Yes!"

He's talking nonsense!

I wanted him to turn around and answer me like the high-ranking government official I was. But instead of a voice full of authority, a shrill sound escaped my throat. "The Military Creation Act doesn't say anything in it about clones! Or this Kamino! On whose authority are they here?!"

What has happened to that bill in the sparse days I've been gone?!

Even if they had abruptly added language to incorporate an existing army, the only cloning I'd ever heard of took years. These were fully-grown, trained and equipped soldiers. It was impossible to think a clone military could've formed under our noses in all that required time.

And besides! At my last check when we left Naboo, there hadn't even been a vote on the MCA yet!

Out of the corner of my eye, it was becoming obvious that Anakin was focusing less on the battlefield and more on the spiraling woman beside him. His expression reminded me of the way Owen, Beru, and Cliegg looked at me in the Lars kitchen when they didn't think Anakin was coming back.

Obi-Wan was looking like he'd sooner jump from the fatal height of the gunship than answer any more of my questions. His eyes didn't sway from the activities below when he tilted his chin my direction and remarked, dismissively, "It's a long story, Senator."

Hot blood boiled under my skin. "Members of my staff were murdered because of my efforts to prevent an army. What's going on?"

Finally, a true expression of care and even of apology spread across Obi-Wan's features as he briefly met my eye. "They fight for our side."

"I-I don't—" I couldn't form the words— the acceptance— to make myself understand. To believe. The logical side of my brain, so active the past week in its fight against my feelings, sat sadly in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Anakin had digested the implications of all this much faster than me. Despite the rocking of the ship, he steadied himself and stared into my face solemnly, stepping up to deliver the informational blow. His voice was so low I almost didn't hear it, but I would've been able to read his lips all the same.

"It's the Republic's army." A short pause, then he made the crushing disappointment undeniable. "We're at war."

I searched his eyes, not ready to comprehend. I looked to Obi-Wan, practically begging him to butt in and say Anakin had misunderstood. He was watching the two of us attentively now, but I didn't have the mind space to care.

A contradiction of emotions flooded me. One the one hand, if this military force hadn't arrived, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and I would have been dead— along with all the other remaining Jedi who'd come to our rescue. I couldn't bring myself to be resentful of anything that was the sole reason why Anakin was alive and breathing in front of me instead of cold and dead on the ground beside me. But…

Cordé. My cruiser servicemen. Oh, the death— but now I wasn't thinking of the seven lives lost on the landing platform. My scope had violently expanded to the death which would now come exponentially. Soldiers. Civilians. Families. Young, old, and always the poor. I'd lived to see what twenty-five generations had avoided— a civil war of galactic proportion. And all while a planet I'd never heard of raised us bodies for slaughter.

"Are you alright?" Anakin was still watching me, concern sculpting his face. I didn't have words. I stared at him to draw strength yet ultimately could only nod. He didn't look even halfway convinced, but he gave me one more somber grimace before turning to continue his study beyond the transport.

"Attack those Federation starships, quickly!"

I followed the direction Obi-Wan pointed in with my gaze, but numbness had slowed my awareness of my surroundings. Selfishly, I once more mourned the year spent away from my family, the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, the rallying, the sacrifices…

On and on we flew. The pilot expelled rockets according to Anakin or Obi-Wan's directions. Some targets floundered. Some succeeded in their dash for orbit. Black smoke clogged the air above the battlefield, abusing an already exploited planet.

{Rock planet. Insectoids. Endless wars.}

Anakin's description of Geonosis echoed in my ears. Anyone who'd ever heard of this place knew it infamously possessed a history of conflict that went as far back as its history of sentient beings. There was a reason the Geonosians produced advanced combat technology as well as they did— they'd had eons to perfect it. Perhaps irrationally, but nevertheless with thoughts of war and destruction on my mind, I saw the barren and desolate landscape— so unfriendly to the flourishing of life, as if the tired planet itself had given up on it— with new perspective.

A Federation starship had come down, blanketing us in smoke. I felt like I was observing the event from outside my own body. Detached. Repulsed. Then, unbidden, I pictured the same smog darkening the sky above Theed; not in a memory from the past— but in a hellish fantasy of the future. Imagining it choking the lush mountain passes around Varykino was the final trigger.

It started as a sturdier thump in my chest. With every pump of my heart, the mourning period faded, and the strength set in. My lungs, recognizing what was happening before even my conscious mind did, stretched robustly despite the present air. Limp fingers at my sides flexed into fists— small. But mighty.

Like a sunrise breaking through the forlorn landscape of Tatooine, Amidala blazed to life. The representative for billions with the platform to reach trillions. The former child-Queen who outsmarted the Viceroy of the Trade Federation. The fighter for peace, with a personal connection to the Supreme Chancellor himself. Shoved away for the better part of the last week in favor of love, she'd emerged in spurts opposite Count Dooku and in the Geonosian courtroom. Now, I felt her resilience blossom inside me with purpose.

To be jarred by colossal news is to be human. I'd had my stint to be shocked, still, and anguished. But such a period was merely a dark womb before the rebirth of my true and defining attributes. The familiar fire— not for war, but against diplomacy's challenges— spread throughout my body. If Anakin's arena was a hailstorm of blaster bolts and lightsabers, mine was behind a podium in the people's Senate. For several beats, everything— even the man I loved— faded away as I steeled myself for the future.

Clones or no— I'm not giving up so fast.

"Look over there!"

As if right on divine cue, an answer to my resolve appeared on our left when we emerged from the debris cloud. There, on a speeder, was the key to ending this conflict before it need begin.

"It's Dooku." Anakin confirmed. "Shoot him down!"

But the pilot's answer was the last reply we needed to hear. As he turned his head, I saw the Republic insignia printed on his yellow-striped helmet for the first time. "We're out of rockets, sir!"

"Follow him!"

The leader of the Separatists was too important to gamble on escape. Nothing could be left to chance— he had to be captured. There was a literal army of soldiers and Jedi just a signal hail away. "We're gonna need some help!"

Obi-Wan looked at me fleetingly before his eyes reverted back his prize. "There isn't time! Anakin and I can handle this!"

Anakin.

My laser-focused Senator fever faltered. Barely mindful of our present company, I had to restrain myself from reaching out to grab his hand. As if he could sense my longing and worry, Ani turned and looked at me over his shoulder. He gave a wide, confident grin I'm sure he intended as reassurance.

Obi-Wan looked over his own shoulder at us. He frowned, but only said, "The land speeder won't get him far. He's heading towards a hangar."

The unexpected clones were too many, and the globes of Federation starships were sinking to the ground in massive explosions. Dooku wasn't stupid enough to remain on-planet.

And so we, the only audience to his getaway, chased him and his two small escorts over rolling sand dunes. The theater of active warfare fell away; our single engine hummed alone. Up and down our aircraft dipped, following the trajectory of Dooku's trio as it flew just above the terrain.

Suddenly, we watched through dirtied cockpit glass as the cone-shaped escorts sharply pulled up. They zipped past our ship in reversed breakneck speed. Obi-Wan's warning rang out. "Oh, this won't be fun. Hang on tight!"

Anakin projected his more urgent shout to the pilot. "Does this thing have rear shields?!"

I didn't realize the dire change of our position until purple light began bombarding us on all sides. Then I knew what was coming, so I adjusted my hand on the metal rail above my head, releasing my original grip for a half-second.

It was only a half-second.

But our pilot, already momentarily distracted by Anakin's question, was unprepared to compensate when one of the beams hit us.

Then the world tilted— first suddenly, then in slow-motion. I was weightless. A desperate hand reached out for me, but it was too late.

The last thing I heard before blacking out was Anakin screaming my name.

But he was already moving, turning himself over the second my knees made contact with the grass.

With a smile on his face that outdid the twin suns of Tatooine.

He cackled up at me shamelessly. "Oh!" Adrenaline still coursing through me, I swatted at him, throwing myself into his perfectly uninjured body. I felt the sun once more as we rolled as one. Anakin pulled me into him, and our momentum carried our trajectory into a full rotation, our ears filled with the sound of our laughter.

Purposely, I stopped our tumble with me on top of him. It felt bold and powerful to pin a Jedi, even if just for fun. Especially if it was Anakin. Although the giggles still shook my rib cage as I peered down at him, I accused, "Did you fall off the shaak on purpose just to trick me?"

The fall itself didn't knock me unconscious; nor did the many head slams inflicted as I rolled down a hill made of grains, not grass. Although the fractional less weight on my body from the planet's gravity helped, the compact dune was still a blow when I hit it, resulting in the air being punched out of my lungs. But it was that abrupt argument of freshly ripped flesh on my back meeting abrasive, unforgiving sand that caused me to black out from the overwhelming shock of pain.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I came to, my hot front side indicated I'd been baking under the sun for at least several minutes. With even the tiniest of motions, more sand ground itself into my wounds, and I emitted a labored cry as I fought to move my arms.

{Alright, milady. You're pinned. What are you going to do?}

When I squinted my red-curtain eyelids apart, my dizziness was added to by the blindingly bright fireball in the sky. The urge to close them again and rest was unrelenting. I forced myself into sharper alert when I heard the padded sound of boots approaching; their wearer knelt in the sand at my side.

"Are you alright?"

I heard Master Kenobi's clone explanation. All the same, it was still the strangest, most other-worldly thing to hear genuine concern come from the same voice which had mocked my death sentence under a different helmet barely an hour ago.

"Uh-huh."

Get up. Get up!

To prove my endurance even more to myself than to him, I made my muscles bend and push me from the cushioning ground. I came to a stand wearily.

"We better get back to the forward command center."

By my best recollection of the moment when we fell, this soldier was the one who'd stood nearest the cockpit— the one Anakin had thanked for our rescue with a lightsaber to his neck.

Anakin!

All physical pain shoved itself to the back of my mind. Ani and Obi-Wan were now going into their capture of Count Dooku two blasters short. "No! No. Gather what troops you can— we've got to get to that hangar. Get a transport!" I heard our miracle a split-second before I commanded, "Hurry!"

"Right away!" He'd heard the hum too. We were both at a run, sprinting to the other side of the massive dune. For the fiftieth time that day, I was grateful I'd chosen against my typical wardrobe of long skirts and heels as I rushed across the sand. I was just behind the soldier as we came into view of the gunship flying up the valley. It was distant from our hill but moving quickly left to right, parallel with our position. Our window of catching the pilot or riders' attention was narrow and closing fast.

Rush, rush, rush.

I began waving my arms in a desperate, crisscrossing motion. A moment later, the man beside me pointed his weapon at a near-vertical angle in the air. The plasma ammunition— now improvised signal flares— erupted high but safely slanted in the direction away from both the gunship and our heads.

As I watched the speeding vessel, however, and realized its straightforward trajectory, awareness dawned.

"Stop! Lower your blaster!" I accompanied my urgent order with an abrupt change of my arms. Madly, I started to encourage the aircraft onwards, as if I was an enthusiastic ground controller directing air traffic away. Which, essentially, I was.

The trooper immediately obeyed and ceased his firing, yet clearly looked at me questioningly. "But they're our ticket out of here?"

I shook my head, never taking my eyes of the gunship. It veered towards us— we'd been seen— but relief flooded me when it suddenly resumed its accelerated pace once more. Only then did I drop my arms. "No. Look at their heading. They're on their way to the same place our gunship went." Maybe Kenobi comm'd for reinforcements after all? I turned and looked at my stranded-again companion. If Anakin and Obi-Wan were currently engaged against Dooku, or worse— injured— every second mattered. "Better that they reach the Jedi sooner rather than stop to pick us up. We can still hail another transport."

He gave me a single, soldier's nod. "Roger that. On it!'

Immediately, he stepped away and initiated the request for our retrieval. I peered after the beige gunship becoming a dot on the skyline, dearly hoping I'd made the right call. I was putting my faith in those riders in front of my own frantic desire to get to Anakin as quickly as possible.

Later, when I learned of the unseen Jedi Master who'd been aboard that ship, I would be forever glad I hadn't cause him any delay.

I roughly brushed sand off the sides and handle of my blaster. It had been found half-buried under the burnt-yellow grains. While the trooper finished relaying our position, I'd trekked to the other side of the dune we'd fallen on. Sure enough, there was the black weapon, idling in wait from where it slid down the opposite side of the hill.

I pointed the tip of it towards a dune several meters away, then I fired off a single shot. The reddish-orange bolt raced forth, disrupting a rounded stretch of sand that settled shortly after. Everything seemed to be in working order.

Then I propelled myself to climb to the summit of our dune, pushing past the pain in my back with each exertion. The indentations where the soldier and I had each landed were still distinct. I bit down on my bottom lip while I paused there and recollected my wits. The more my adrenaline had abated, the more the nexu's cuts throbbed. My throat felt parched. I hadn't had any water since the flight to Geonosis. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I strained to see far to my right, then to my left, then quickly back again— desiring even more so to see a beige dot in the opposite direction than a retrieval ship would be coming in.

For, truthfully, I still held out ardent hope that my original ride would appear first. I knew I would eventually make out a golden-crowned head leaning recklessly from the hub as the gunship neared— Anakin, riding in to announce that Obi-Wan and the reinforcements had Dooku in custody back in the hangar. The victorious apprentice had jumped on the nearest transport to retrieve and tell me himself. Because of course he would. I could picture that dazzling white smile beaming at me from above, a hand already extended low to collect me from my hill. There'd be a wisecracking joke about the esteemed Senator so good in her high heels not being able to keep her balance in boots. I'd make a semi-sarcastic quip back about his ego expanding insufferably with the arrest of the Separatist leader now on his resumé. All the while, our eyes would be having the real conversation, in tender language no witnesses could overhear.

The hot wind whipped audibly around my ears. It blew a dusting of sand across my pearl shoes and ankles. The desert horizon to my right remained empty of any aircraft.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

"They're one minute out. We should see them soon."

I tore my eyes from the eastern sky. The trooper at the base of my tall dune was looking up at me. At his announcement, I nodded and began scanning the horizon to my left.

We heard the transport before we saw it. My anticipation, already racked by nerves during our wait, skyrocketed at the sight of the gunship racing towards us. By the time the black Republic insignia was visible just above the open deck, I was so energized and ready to board that I wished for Ani's Jedi legs to jump into it even at its great height.

Instead of his boyish and cocky grin, I was met with another armored trooper who offered his black-gloved hand. After he quickly assisted me into the hub, I stood straight and saw two more expressionless helmets staring back at me. "Senator Amidala," I greeted sternly, having absolutely no idea if they knew who I was but hoping the "Senator" part— and my bravado when I said it— might take care of any formalities. I wasn't going to entertain debate should I decide to start issuing orders. They nodded at me in unison. The second my companion's last foot crossed the threshold, we were ascending into the air and soon flying over the valley.

Thankfully, for I had no specific destination to point them in other than a general direction ahead, our pilot knew where he was going. The gunship I'd emphatically motioned onwards had reached the hangar and provided coordinates back to this one. There were no signs of any enemy pursuit, but I grabbed ahold of the silver bar above my head— tightly— all the same.

"Senator!" one of the new troopers exclaimed. "She's wounded!" He was already moving to a gray and red medkit attached to the nearby wall. Opening it, he retrieved a silver canister. I quickly inferred its contents as bacta spray.

He approached me from behind and removed the cap. He waited for my nod, which I gave, and he administered two doses. I could feel the microbiotics kick in on contact. My lower back felt like it was fizzing in carbonation, but in a relieving, cooling way. "Thank you," I said to him, turning slightly to offer a grateful expression. When the trooper made to spray my injury again, though, I stopped him. "That's enough. Keep the rest for where we're going." The bottle was likely full, but I wanted as much as possible of the serum preserved for Anakin and Obi-Wan should they need it.

"With respect, ma'am," the trooper who'd fallen with me interjected, "two other gunships with medpacs installed onboard have already gone ahead. Allow him to give you more than that." Surrendering to this logic, I ultimately nodded. Three more sprays of bacta misted upon my back and the rear of my right arm.

"What have you heard from the first LAAT?" The trooper who'd just spoken— my companion on the dune— directed his shout towards the cockpit. His question and the pending answer immediately had my attention.

The same low, identical voice responded from behind the controls. "We've only received comms from the ship that took off from the command center."

I stepped forward to make myself heard over the wind. "Hail them!"

There was a pause as our pilot began to do exactly that. I waited impatiently, wishing I could hear whatever information was coming through his helmet's earpiece.

"Negative!" He yelled back to us, too soon even for my expectation. "There's nothing there!"

The trooper from the dune leaned forward, one gloved hand on the right-side rim of the open hub. "Do you mean there's no answer? Just static?!"

"No!" Came the reply. "The signal isn't getting through to hail them. Your LAAT is no longer live!"

The trooper by the open gate looked down at the floor, then slowly up at me. I stared back; however, I made the conscious decision not to imagine the mood underneath that helmet. I did not want to accept what this information might mean.

I went to the left side of the hub and gazed at the burnt surface of Geonosis. Sand dunes had already morphed into the blur of hard rock passing below. We were lucky Dooku's escorts blasted our ship as early in the ride as they had, or else the trooper and I would have never survived the fall.

The escorts.

{We're out of rockets, sir!}

It hadn't crossed my mind that my tumble might not have been the last time our gunship was hit.

No. They made it. They made it.

But I couldn't stop my eyes from suddenly scanning the ground more manically. For wreckage. For bodies.

Finally, in the distance, I could see a steep, rust-colored mountainside we seemed to be heading towards. It jutted out from the landscape imposingly. Strategically. A perfect place for a concealed hangar, not unlike the Royal Hangar built on and into the cliffs on the edge of Theed.

Obi-Wan promised they could handle this. Was that a smidgen of arrogance when he said it, or merely deserved, healthy confidence? It didn't matter. It only mattered that he'd be right. And I knew exactly how they would handle it.

Lightsabers. A lightsaber duel was inevitable. It was the trademark fighting style of the Jedi, and I knew from the battle for the palace ten years ago that it was also the weapon of their worst foe. Count Dooku was both.

I had the tiniest moment of comfort for being so protective of Anakin's sleep back on that Lars bed. At the very least, he was more rested than he otherwise would've been. I summoned the recent memory of his astonishing skill with a blade in the arena. But then perspective slammed without warning, and my stomach heaved so violently I was certain bile was going to come up.

Two Jedi in a lightsaber fight against one adversary— a man who'd likely rather die or kill than yield to arrest. Isolated— staged away from the battle transpiring beyond its dueling ground.

There was even the nauseating parallel of it all starting in a hangar.

Qui-Gon Jinn was a seasoned Jedi with years of experience under his belt. He was sharp, mindful, and not near old enough to be considered old. He fell.

Anakin was young, strong, nimble, athletic. But he was still a Padawan. He was emotionally and physically exhausted from a day's events stretching two different planets. And if he had ever been in a match-up against an opponent of this weight, it would've been the very first story he'd regaled me with. He hadn't.

The last time I'd seen Obi-Wan Kenobi enter into a lightsaber duel with a partner— his seasoned, far-more-experienced-than-a-Padawan partner— Kenobi was the only one who walked away from it.

{The thought of not being with you… I can't breathe.}

My lungs forgot how to work. I couldn't get the breath to unhitch in my seized throat. I put a hand on the side of the hub and forced myself to inhale deeply.

Rush, rush, rush.

There, up ahead. I could make out the slip of the hangar dock. Thirty more seconds and we would reach it.

"Ready yourselves!" A copy of the bounty hunter's vocal cords yelled out to his comrades behind me. I heard the bases of heavy blasters slap into palms.

Faint, black wisps of smoke caught my eye. I followed their foreboding trail to the charred remains of a gunship on the canyon floor below. Whether it had carried Anakin and Obi-Wan or the reinforcements who had passed us, I couldn't tell. My knees went weak either way.

They made it. They had to. They were so close.

10 seconds.

Anakin's wide smile to me over his shoulder flashed into my mind.

8 seconds.

Blue eyes peeking up at me in between spoonfuls of hot soup.

5 seconds.

{Grown more beautiful, I mean.}

3 seconds.

I didn't jump so much as I catapulted myself out of the transport.