Anakin's Fortress - Book II (temporary cover)

Twenty-three - Antipathy

There's no crying in the Empire.
Year 12

——————

Anakin

"Local time is 0430. Weather in Eriadu City is mild, windy but otherwise ideal. A wildfire has been reported outside the city. Willhelm Tarkin awaits you on the platform."

"Mm," I mumble as I work to start my landing. I know something is wrong; I feel it in my gut and the Force. I'm just so distracted by my hate toward the Moff.

When I see him standing there, without Kitten, my rage almost snaps.

"Where is she?" I demand the moment my feet hit the permacrete.

"Miss Velez and I got separated in the forest—"

I hold up my hand because one more word from him and I will lose it. He stops talking but his face morphs into distaste. After a deep breath to try to calm myself, I catch something. Two emergency crafts are taking off.

I clench my fist and speak into my mask. "Tell me about the fire, Zena."

"The number of reports is up to twelve. An evacuation order was put out just under two minutes ago. Rescue and fire services are working to put it out, but it is rapidly growing. An estimated one thousand acres burned so far. It's uncommon in Eriadu's ecosystem to have fires this large; the last one was recorded over five hundred years ago. Would you like to know more?"

An uncommon forest fire...in a forest Tarkin says Kitten is lost in.

"Track her." Stupid of me not to do this the moment we entered atmosphere.

"Searching..." I hold my breath. "Search failed. Tracking chip has been damaged or removed." Or she's dead.

My rage turns to panic. The chip is in her left arm because she inserted it herself—so a damaged chip doesn't necessarily mean death. That doesn't comfort me any. "Get my ship on," I order her.

I step forward and speak an inch from Tarkin's face. "You can either come with me willingly, or I can kill you where you stand."

"No need," he snaps and shifts toward the ramp of my shuttle. "We'll go save the woman, while my city fights a wildfire that could kill thousands."

So, he is aware of the fire. "If we do not find the woman, there will be no city left."

I take the pilot's seat because I do not trust the damned man. I'm practically shaking with rage and fear.

"You know," Tarkin says when I get us off the ground.

"Silence," I roar. "If you have nothing of use to say, I do not wish to hear your voice." He scoffs, but I know he's afraid. Maybe he knows he has crossed a line, or maybe he doesn't believe we'll find her alive.

That is certainly what he should be afraid of the most.

But I feel her, the tiniest sliver in the Force. The reason I can is clear: It is a feeling I've felt from her often, one I used to crave. It is the fear that makes her blood run cold, the fear that consumes her, swallowing her until she becomes something new, something barely human.

It is what Tarkin should be feeling, because it makes me angry, and I know what color my eyes are. As I fly toward the chaos, I know I'm Vader more than Anakin.

At first, when we get past the edge of the city, I do not see anything with my eyes, though I can feel it through the Force. Life is being lost.

But then I realize the sky is discolored, and it darkens as the smoke appears and grows closer.