Author's Note: If I killed you with suspense/horror/dread from the end of the last chapter, well, I'm not apologizing. Did you really think I would kill Anakin like that? :)
~ Amina Gila
Anakin stands on the landing platform, watching as the ship lands. It's the middle of the night, but the initial report indicated the urgency of whatever information the clones had uncovered during their reconnaissance. Rex stands next to him silently, as the ramp lowers. The two clones walk down the ramp saluting when they reach him.
"General," the first nods respectfully.
"Let's go inside," Anakin suggests, turning and striding into the mansion. He reaches out with the Force sensing out any potential dangers or spies and finds none, though something is... off. He can't place exactly what, but it's on the edge of his senses. Regardless, his concern assuaged, he remains in the main hall, turning to face the clone troopers.
"We did not find any reports of Sidious' location," the first clone explains, "But none of the Separatist troops have seen him. Wherever he is, he is located away from all the action."
"So, somewhere isolated most likely," muses Anakin quietly. It's been a little over two weeks, and they still have yet to find something pointing to where the Sith Lord is hiding. It's as if he's completely vanished.
"Yes, sir," he agrees.
"Rumors suggest that Sidious has a new apprentice," the second clone adds gravely. "We did not actually see him, but I heard talk about a Zabrak with a red lightsaber having been seen on the planet. We have footage actually, but it may be fake. The source we obtained it from was not reliable."
"Let me see," demands Anakin, tensing. If Sidious has a new apprentice, the situation could easily become much more serious.
The first clone withdraws a holodisk and activates it. The holorecording appears, and Anakin studies it. It's slightly blurred and out of focus, but he can clearly see a hooded figure creeping into the line of sight. He stands there before pushing back his hood, a red lightsaber appearing in his hand. He attacks the people standing there striking them down with minimal resistance. Anakin can't stop the gasp the escapes. Unless that's a clone, it looks exactly like the first Sith he ever saw. Maul.
He clenches his fists, making a note to review the footage again with Obi-Wan and Dooku early in the morning, when it's actually a decent hour. Maul steps out of the line of sight, and everything becomes eerily quiet until a similar figure enters once more. The hood is raised, but the posture and movement are different. Somehow – Anakin's not sure exactly how or why – he thinks it's not Maul. After pausing and looking around, the figure turns and leaves. Though Anakin can't really see the man's face, he gets the impression that the facial tattoos are a different color. Savage Oppress?
A sinking feeling weighs him down. What are they getting themselves into? What is Sidious doing? One apprentice is expected, but two? Are there more? An involuntary shiver runs through his body. This is clearly much more serious than he's initially anticipated.
"Is there anything else?" he wants to know, looking at the clones.
"No, sir," the second replies immediately.
"Very well," he nods, turning and striding away. "You should get some rest." That's when he feels the surge of distress from his bond with Ahsoka. She doesn't seem to be in danger – she shouldn't be anyways. Nothing should have gotten past the security.
Shaking off his concern over Sidious, Anakin turns his attention to Ahsoka. She seems to be facing some sort of turmoil – a nightmare most likely. He can't explain the surge of concern that sweeps through him when he realizes that. He hurries upstairs to her bedroom, brow furrowed in concentration as he feels her emotions through their bond. Whatever it is, it's not good.
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Trial of the Times
FanfictionAfter Obi-Wan's supposed death, Anakin is devastated. He receives a surprise offer which will hopefully allow him to end the Clone Wars and save the galaxy, except it means allying with Count Dooku, who has his own agenda. With no anchor and minimal...