Star Wars: The Hero's Descent

Chapter 10: Good Soldiers Follow Orders

At first glance, the creche appeared just as deserted as the rest of the Temple, but it wasn't difficult to spot the small children huddled among the maze of cribs and tiny beds - especially when a padawan leaped out of nowhere, blue lightsaber raised and read to swing.

As soon as the padawan spotted who they were, his eyes widened comically in the dark and his leap faltered. He landed in a slightly unsteady crouch in front of Anakin. 'I'm sorry, Master Skywalker,' he apologised. 'I thought you were the clones.'

'Never mind that, we need to get out of there.'

'I knew someone would come,' a girl's accented voice whispered out of the darkness. 'I told you.'

'How many are in here?'

'Twelve, Master,' replied the girl, standing up. She was a Twi'lek, aqua-skinned, barely in her teens. Anakin tried to think quickly. If only Obi-Wan had come with him.

'Okay, round them all up and get them to the hangar bay as quickly as possible. Are there any more padawans around?'

The boy frowned. 'I... don't think so.'

Anakin understood. Not any more. 'Then, any kid that can walk does so,' he ordered. 'The rest we'll have to improvise with.'

Movement out in the hallway grabbed Anakin's attention.

'Now!' he hissed. As the padawans and the younglings sprang into action, he turned, lightsaber casting eerie shadows on the walls. He shooed everyone away from the door and caused it to slide open. As he stepped out, he saw them, clone troopers - his clone troopers. He'd left the 501st back on Coruscant when he'd gone to Utapau with Obi-Wan and his troops, but he'd never imagined they were the ones attacking the temple. There were only a few for now, but he recognised them all.

'General Skywalker!' Jesse shouted and pointed. Instantly, Anakin's lightsaber was raised, ready and waiting to deflect the inevitable blaster fire. When it didn't come immediately, Anakin took an angry step forward.

'I don't wanna fight you,' he grit out. 'But I will if I have to.'

'Well, we don't want to fight you either, sir,' another of the clones, Echo replied.

Anakin paused, brow furrowing. Obi-Wan's clones hadn't seemed to hesitate. He hated to think it, but if his men weren't shooting now, it probably wasn't out of loyalty. 'Why aren't you shooting at me?' he asked.

'Why would we, sir?' Jesse asked, sounding dazed. 'You're our General.'

Anger and desperation sparked Anakin's words. 'I didn't order this!'

'General, have you seen any Jedi around?' Commander Appo asked. 'They're proving quite difficult to find in this place.'

That again made Anakin pause. 'You don't see me as a Jedi?'

The clones looked at each other in confusion.

'Well...' Echo said. His hand went to the back of his helmet as if scratching his head. 'You're different, sir. You're a-'

'Jedi!' Jesse shouted and raised his blaster. Anakin growled and raised his lightsaber. He didn't need to look to see what had grabbed Jesse's attention. The padawans and the younglings were making their escape.

'Hold your fire!' Anakin yelled as the clones did the exact opposite. Anakin backed away, towards the younglings, deflecting his own troops' blaster fire. 'Get out of here!' he screamed over his shoulder. The padawans nodded, the girl, a child in each arm, began running down the hall in the lead, the younger ones following. The boy ushered them away, deflecting blaster bolts away from the younglings. Anakin began to follow, realising he probably couldn't lead the clones away from the others. The clones advanced, following the group down the halls, blasters firing as they moved. Anakin could sense more on the way.

With a cry, one of the smaller children fell over. The boy knelt to pick her up, but Anakin waved him away. 'I got her!' he told him. 'You protect the others!'

'Yes, Master!'

Anakin scooped up the child, an Erinyeosian girl with crimson-red hair, as another fell, but this one didn't move again. 'Stop!' Anakin shouted to the clones over the noise of their blasters. 'I order you to stand down!'

Anakin backed away, one arm full of three-year-old, the other deflecting bolts with his lightsaber, and stepped over the child. Dead. He didn't even need to look, he could feel it. Vision tinted red (or was that the girl's hair in his face?) he let out a guttural cry and thrust his sword arm out, calling on the Force to push the clones back and into each other.

'GO!' he screamed over his shoulder as more clones spilled into the hallway. His heart filled with regret as one of the clones fell under a deflected blaster bolt. These were his comrades. His men. And someone was forcing them to kill children. To kill Jedi. But not him and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Anakin stopped backing away, instead standing his ground. It was like a switch inside him had flipped and suddenly, he was deflecting bolts with purpose, each one finding their target. Clones, felled by his hand, littered the corridor, impeding the progress of the rest.

'Don't make me kill you all!' Anakin called as the blaster fire kept coming, despite it not actually being aimed at him, but to the small retreating figures at his back.

'Good soldiers follow orders,' one of the clones muttered as they continued forward. The phrase was familiar, and sent a chill up Anakin's spine.

'Whose orders?' he demanded as another spray of blaster fire was deflected back at the clones. They certainly weren't following his anymore. The young girl tugged on a lock of his hair and he swallowed back the bitter betrayal. Barely. 'Whose orders?' he repeated. 'Answer me! Whose orders?'

The sound of a lightsaber being unsheathed came from around the corner and then from behind the clones, a cloaked figure appeared. Anakin couldn't see his face, but he recognised the lightsaber he carried, its distinct purple glow and utilitarian hilt nearly causing him to stumble in shock. Mace Windu. Could it possibly be? He had hated Anakin from the beginning, Anakin knew, but he hadn't thought Windu capable of this.

The voice wasn't Mace's when he answered Anakin's question, though. It was older, masculine and gravelly, but still strangely familiar. It was only one word, but the relish in it was chilling.

'Mine.'