Precipice by shadowsong26

Part 5: Lessons

Lessons: Chapter 9

Original Author's Notes: As a note, towards the end of this chapter someone is briefly buried under a pile of rubble. They don't freak out about it and they get out very quickly, but if that's something that gets to you, I just wanted to give you a head's up 3

Anakin secured the next set of explosives, then dropped back down to the factory floor; he studied the rest of the workroom, considering. A few more charges, and he'd be able to bring the ceiling crashing down. Between that and the other sabotage he'd done over the past few hours, after the workers had cleared out for carefully scheduled routine maintenance, he'd put this place out of business for at least six months.

Definitely a good thing, on all counts.

He had maybe two hours and a half hours before the early shift showed up, just before dawn. But, assuming nothing went spectacularly wrong, that wouldn't be a problem; he'd be out of here in less than half that time. That would leave enough of a margin of error that he was almost certain to get clear before he actually hit the detonator-very important, since the factory's guards would secure the perimeter fast- while still leaving enough room on the other side to minimize collateral.

It was...well, it was just like any number of missions he'd gone on in the last several years. Better than some, even. This factory built weapons, specifically turret cannons for Star Destroyers and military bases on the ground, which meant it was a relatively clear-cut target. Almost as simple as they came, really.

But ever since he'd landed two days ago for recon, something had been bothering him about the whole thing; he just wasn't quite sure what yet.

Nothing unusual had happened; not during his recon, or when he'd sliced into the factory's computer to tweak the maintenance schedule and expand his window, or on his approach past the stormtroopers who had remained on guard, or with his sabotage thus far.

And yet-well, and yet.

He sighed, picked another promising support beam, and vaulted up to it to plant the next set of charges.

It probably wouldn't have been quite as bad if he'd had someone to talk to. But Obi-Wan was on his own mission, helping out one of the cells Moonshot had linked them to, and he'd needed Rex as backup more than Anakin did this week. And Ahsoka was working with Leia again, having sworn up and down that there would be no more treetop adventures over unstable ground.

That was probably a big part of his uneasiness, come to think of it; he was always tense when Leia was on one of her off-planet trips, especially without him, and especially when the last one had come so close to putting her in real danger.

Still, it wasn't all that unusual, for him to fly solo like this. And, sure, the two days of solitary recon had had him clawing at the walls a little bit-it always did; recon was one of his least favorite assignments and always had been-but not enough to make him this antsy. Plus, he had Artoo with him, just a quick call away on the Waterfall, ready in case he needed an extraction in a hurry. So he wasn't completely alone.

Maybe it was because their tip about this place hadn't come from one of their usual contacts. But the source was a friend of a friend of his old friend Kitster, and he knew Kitster wouldn't be party to setting him up.

Not intentionally, anyway.

Or maybe I'm just being paranoid, he thought, double checking the link between the charge and the remote detonator. It wouldn't be the first time.

It was probably all of it together, really-the relative isolation, the untested intel source, Leia on a trip-which touched at something vaguely familiar in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite-

There was a sudden, perceptible change in the air.

Anakin was no longer alone in here.

He shifted position so he would be a little less visible from the ground; the metal support beam creaked faintly as his right hand gripped it a little too hard.

And then he went still, half-holding his breath, stretching all senses out towards the workroom's only entrance; waiting for the threat to reveal itself.

With any luck, it was just local security-he'd done his best to cover his tracks and give himself a clean window, but that was never a guarantee. And if that were the case, it was better to try and avoid notice. Mind trick them so they wouldn't see the bombs, send them on their way, and finish up as quickly as he could.

Of course, when the hell had he ever been that lucky?

Anakin sensed him a moment before he appeared in the doorway; Mirialan, tall for his species, built like a tank.

That, coupled with the cold, hungry tendril winding its way through the Force, could only mean one thing.

Oh, karking hell.

He thought back, trying to remember if there was anything about this planet or this factory that the Chancellor would consider worth sending his apprentice to deal with. Nothing came to mind, which meant either he'd missed something, or Kitster's contact had screwed them both.

Except-

Darth Infernalis had paused in the doorway, head tilted. He went for his lightsaber, but slowly; wary.

...if this is an ambush, it's as much a surprise to him as it is to me.

Well, that changed everything.

Because, yeah, going up against a Sith Lord by himself had never ended well, but Anakin had every advantage in the moment-he was stronger, more experienced, and he'd spent the last two and a half days learning the lay of the land. Plus, if he killed Infernalis here, that would set the Chancellor back at least a year or two, while he maneuvered his next apprentice into place.

Really, Anakin would be stupid not to engage.

The next instant, he vaulted down from the ceiling, lightsaber springing to his hand. He activated it a split second before impact, aiming a swift downward stroke at the center of Infernalis' skull.

Infernalis sidestepped, activating his own 'saber and throwing it up to deflect Anakin's.

Just like Obi-Wan had guessed weeks ago, the Sith Lord's blade was longer than usual by several centimeters. Fine; Anakin knew exactly how to handle that- crowd him. Stay inside his reach, so he couldn't use it properly.

So, he shifted his grip; drawing on some of Ahsoka's technique-a reverse grip was particularly useful in close quarters-and pressed his advantage.

Infernalis was not comfortable on the defensive, and it showed. He bared his teeth, but he gave ground, step after step after step, barely keeping up with Anakin's furious onslaught, trying and failing twice to turn the tables on him.

After the second attempt, Anakin scored a hit; cutting deep into Infernalis' left shoulder. The angle was off; he didn't actually sever the arm.

Damn it.

Infernalis yelped, then lashed out, flinging a bolt of lightning in Anakin's direction.

It went wide, but it was enough to drive him back a few steps.

Infernalis snarled and leaped at him, enraged by pain and fueled by adrenaline.

Anakin held his ground-the Sith Lord wouldn't be able to sustain his assault for more than a few seconds, and as soon as it let up, he could-

He felt a faint flicker of motion at his wrist, and then Infernalis abruptly disengaged, backflipping to put some distance between them and landing at the door.

Anakin launched after him-realized, a split second too late, exactly what that flicker was-

Infernalis smirked at him. "See you soon, Skywalker," he said, and activated the stolen detonator.

He threw up a shield as fast as he could to protect himself from the worst of the explosion, and then the world disappeared in a cascade of molten steel.

Infernalis trudged wearily onto his ship, wounded arm throbbing uselessly at his side.

That, he thought grimly, could only have gone worse if Skywalker had actually killed me.

It was supposed to be a simple assignment-the factory manager was skimming; writing off perfectly functional parts as defective and selling them at a deliriously high markup on the black market. The kind of operation Infernalis would have appreciated, even participated in, a few years ago.

Of course, he had different priorities now.

Today's task was: show some finesse, but make an example of the thieving manager.

That, of course, had gone completely out the window as soon as he'd arrived and found Skywalker already there. Instead of the nice, clear-cut murder he'd been sent to commit, Infernalis had been forced into a confrontation that he was in no way ready for.

Oh, sure, he was delighted by the idea of fighting and killing Skywalker; of being the one to finally vanquish the Jedi who had killed two of his three predecessors- someday. But Infernalis was realistic about his own capabilities, and the simple fact was a neophyte Sith Lord with barely two years of training had no chance against a Jedi Knight with Skywalker's power and experience.

The only thing that had saved him had been Skywalker's bombs. He'd spotted them as soon as he'd entered the factory, of course. Infernalis had served a decade of hard labor in a cortosis mine, and had been been sent there following his conviction for...call it something not too far off from Skywalker's apparent goal. (His target, though, had been much more entertaining than an empty factory.)

The point was, he knew explosives.

With that in mind, all he'd had to do, really, was stick close to the exit and get his hands on Skywalker's remote. And even that had pushed his skills to the very limit. If he'd been any slower to grab and activate the detonator...

Well, he'd managed. But it had only been a delaying action, in the end. He had absolutely no doubt that Skywalker had survived the explosion. The Jedi, much like Infernalis' semi-legendary cyborg predecessor, seemed to be more or less unkillable. Infernalis wouldn't credit reports of Skywalker's death unless he'd been dismembered and set on fire-and even then, he'd have his doubts. Merely dropping a building on him certainly wouldn't be enough.

Still, despite all of that, Infernalis had managed to get out of the factory with his head on his shoulders, which was no small victory.

Of course, now he had to figure out how to explain his catastrophic failure to his Master. Because not only had he failed to complete his actual mission, he'd allowed a significant threat to the Empire to escape and destroyed a reasonably productive weapons factory.

To say Sidious would be displeased was one hell of an understatement.

No help for it now. He'd just have to deal with whatever punishment was thrown at him when it came.

Infernalis growled a little, and plugged in the coordinates for Imperial Center. He closed his eyes and sank into a light meditation, doing everything he could to prepare himself for his arrival.

He might not be on Skywalker's level-not yet, anyway-but he was a survivor, after all. He'd figure it out. Somehow.

Anakin came to in darkness, with his commlink shrieking anxiously in his ear.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

It didn't listen.

He groaned, and groped for it; finding it after a few seconds, he accepted the call without looking to see who it was.

/Where are you?/ Artoo asked. /I saw the explosion and you should be here by now. This signal is still coming from inside the factory. Why is your signal still coming from inside the factory? Are you damaged? Do I need to shoot people for you again?/

"Hey-uh-slow down, one question at a time," he said. He opened his eyes cautiously, to find-okay, less darkness than he thought. He could see substantial patches of moonlight. He wasn't buried too deep.

Oh, good. Small favors.

/Good, you're alive,/ Artoo said. /You'd better hurry, the stormtroopers are already sealing a perimeter./

"Of course they are," he said. "Hang on." He set the commlink aside and closed his eyes, searching for the edges of the rubble and the safest way to lift it off of himself.

Okay, I think-there. He gripped it tight and pushed, feeling it shift at his command, just enough for him to wriggle out from underneath.

(Nothing like, he remembered with a twinge of grief that he tried to ignore, when he and Master Windu had been buried under half a cruiser a lifetime ago.)

He shook off the memory; Artoo was right, he needed to get out of here before Imperial security showed up.

"All right," he said, picking up his commlink again and dragging himself upright. "I'm on my way. Get the ship running, we're probably gonna have to take off as soon as I'm there."

/Should I meet you halfway?/ Artoo asked. /And you didn't answer my question./

"I'm fine," Anakin said.

Artoo beeped something disbelieving that Anakin would never, in a million years, allow him to say in front of his daughter.

"I'm fine," he insisted. I think. Probably. He took a careful, experimental step, and didn't come crashing down. Eh, I can walk, that's good enough for now. "And-no, hold tight 'til I get there. We don't wanna draw the troopers' attention until we absolutely have to. Have Obi-Wan and Rex checked in with you yet?"

/No, but I expect them to call soon. Should I patch them through if they do?/

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, do that. Don't bother calling them yourself, but, you know."

/Yes, I know,/ Artoo said. /Keep your comm on so I can find you if you collapse./

"Your faith in me is touching," Anakin said dryly. "I told you, I'm fine. I still have the same number of limbs I did this morning and everything."

Artoo was silent for a second. /That is disconcertingly specific,/ he said.

Anakin winced a little. "Forget it. Just, uh, just patch Obi-Wan through if he calls." He reached out and his lightsaber jumped out of the rubble to join him. "I'm headed your way."

/I'll be here,/ Artoo promised.

Anakin slipped his commlink into his pocket, then closed his eyes. He picked the direction that felt safest, then started making his way across the rubble and out of what was left of the factory complex.

Original Author's Notes: Soooo I should probably stop promising extra updates, because without fail, as soon as I do, work/RL gets super busy. ^^;; Anyway, sorry that this is delayed, but I should be on time next week, at least?

Thanks for sticking around! 3

~shadowsong