Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader imagines. Featuring different original female characters and their stories in various settings of the galaxy with the Chosen One, to the Dark Lord of the Sith. From the light to the dark side each fate will be a wild rid...
Takes place during the time of the Clone Wars, with callbacks to Episode II: Attack of the Clones.
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
"Anakin, duck!"
He dropped into a crouch before her lips formed the words, a blur of blue fire that sizzled through the humid air. Followed was the stench of cauterized circuitry. The tang of ozone tainted the buds of her tongue as the elongated head of a battle droid sparked and rolled off its spindly body.
Blaster fire rang out. Ion detonators scourged the grounds as grit and debris congested the air. As the two resumed their charge, Anakin threw up one gloved hand in a force push that shoved a dozen droids onto their backs with an audible clank!
"Show off," she shouted with a snarky grin. They'd just barely dodged twin laser cannons off a Hyena-class bomber that speared the skies.
"Better to save that arse than have it charred!" he shouted, catapulting himself into the air with a powerful swell of the Force. He slashed through the droideka that rolled into their midst, with a mighty sweep of the plasmic blade.
He truly was like a god of the skies.
Skywalker.
"Anakin..."
She heard the name slip past her lips like a coveted whisper as her eyes flew open. Instinctually, she was wide awake and alert, a habitual habit since the start of the Clone Wars. The Battle of Ryloth was fresh in her mind with countless lives having been lost. From the Twi'Leks, to Jedi and clone troopers; the sea of faces caused sleep to evade her once more.
Sighing she slipped out of the too-starched sheets—the itch it brought to her skin needing to be rectified with the cleaning droids yet—and from her room.
She ventured through the mezzanine halls, the architecture meant to bring a harmonious balance to the vaulted ceilings that drew the naked eye skyward. Out of her quarters she didn't bother arranging her long hair uniformly. The long waves of copper had grown exponentially in the last several months, the ends nearly brushing her waistline now, and she couldn't bring herself to cut it. It was the one piece of vanity she had control over and coveted.
The carpeted halls muffled her bare footsteps, the northwest wing solely reserved for the privacy of Jedi signed on to longer missions such as herself. Very few Jedi remained due to the Separatists at war with the Republic. With the Battle of Geonosis simply a precursor, thousands of Jedi were spread across dozens of planetary systems.
She, herself, was to deploy for her next assigned mission in three cycles. Upon the askance of Grandmaster Yoda, Hoth was her next location.
She veered towards a room partitioned from the public, the sectioned off quarter reserved for private use, alone. She suspected Grandmaster Yoda had been part of the decision, the place designed to restore a semblance of peace for the Jedi as a retreat aimed to help them regain a former sense of self from the heat of warfare. To reflect on their origins as peace keepers at their core.
