When You Come Home

-6-

"Rise and shine, it's morning time!" a loud voice bellowed, shattering any thoughts of sleep or rest.

Anakin was jolted from his dreams so roughly, his subconscious system took over and forced him from bed. The only issue was that he lay on a bunk bed: the top one. He landed with a heavy thud on the floor, his body too relaxed from sleep to cause any real damage. He stayed on the ground, too shocked and winded to move. He jumped again when the room suddenly burst into uproarious laughter. Jerking his head up, he propped himself up on his elbows, rapidly gaining a grasp on his surroundings.

Ten rows of bunk beds, five against each wall, filled the grey room, lit by a long strip of white lighting along the roof and a single window at the end. At least twenty men, some sitting on beds and some already standing, were pulling on army uniforms, and most of them were watching him. Only a few weren't laughing.

Anakin struggled to his feet, swaying a little once upright, and met the bright eyes and scarred face of Cody. Standing half a head shorter than Anakin, he seemed in no way threatened, hands behind his back, amused smirk on his face.

"Good morning, trooper," he greeted Anakin. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, sir," he responded uncertainly, slowly shifting his stiff left shoulder. Perhaps he had landed harder than he first thought.

Cody's eyes flicked to Anakin's shoulder. "Ecchymosis." At Anakin's blank stare, he amended, "Bruising. Coric, our medic, has cleared your medical. You must have been in a car accident, kid."

Anakin staggered backwards a step, his mind throwing him back to the night. The sounds, the feelings, the images washed over him, consuming his senses and –

"Trooper!" Cody snapped his fingers in front of Anakin, flicking between his eyes. "What was that? Tell me!"

"A-a memory, sir," he stammered.

"A memory?" Cody repeated, one eyebrow cocked. "Hm. Alright, let's kick this off by introducing you to everyone." He turned to the room of expectant men, all over the age of twenty. "Everybody listen up! This is Anakin Jinn, son of the successful businessman, Qui-Gon Jinn." If he noticed Anakin's flinch, he didn't show it. "He is sixteen, a school dropout, and a mechanic's apprentice." Where Cody had obtained all this information was a mystery to Anakin. He couldn't help but feel offended at Cody describing him as a dropout. "Anakin, this is my troop, the 212th regiment of the Grand Army of the Republic. Most of them have been through bootcamp already, so you'll need to learn fast to keep up. This is Waxer, there's Boil, that's Trapper, that one is ...."

The list of names went on, and Anakin zoned out halfway through, his only response distracted nodding. Cody had barely finished speaking when he was barking out the orders for breakfast to be eaten. Rowdy groups of men, in fours and sixes, sat at tables spread through a massive area. A food bar, with white aproned chefs, took up one wall, and the smell of steaming, hearty foods wafted through the room. Anakin caught sight of soldiers from other troops, an identifying coloured strip across each one's upper arm. But he had no time to acclimatise to the foreign sights and sounds; Cody was commanding everyone to eat, and he was not to be denied.

Anakin shovelled in some breakfast, head spinning with the information overload. He had not expected any of this. Had he made a mistake?

Breakfast was fast-tracked into training, and Anakin soon found himself standing in the open air of the barrack's obstacle course. High walls encompassed the massive area, a mix of grass and concrete carpeted it, and grey clouds roofed it. The tips of Coruscant's tallest buildings could be seen poking over the walls, but it was sheltered from the noises and the busyness of the inner city. Anakin couldn't suppress his smile at the green grass and stubby trees dotted around.