What Could Have Been Part III: The Destined Warriors

Aboard

      Anakin

      The glow of Concordia was a ghostly iridescent as layers of black, wisped clouds dragged across the luminant orb in the sky. Mandalore was cloaked by the coolness of night as Anakin Skywalker zipped across the barren plains of red dust. The tracking beacon, radar scanner, and navigation systems had all been stripped off his speeder before he departed from the remnants of the Alliance base. Using the equipment would run the risk of Rett Lisban tracking his bike and that was a risk Anakin could not take. The element of surprise was all he had left.

      So as he cut through shadows between daunting rays of moonlight, Anakin relied on his own instincts to lead him to the enemy base. He used his gut as a map and made turns when his wrists decided to flick left or right. The Force flowed through him like the blood in his body. But it wasn't guiding him now as he sped over desolate landscapes of rock gulches. Sure it was the power of the Force, but this was different.

       Years of training had taught Anakin to listen to the Force, to feel it and to live in harmony with it. Meditation, they had said, would allow you to tap into the Force and gain understanding from it. Even as a Jedi Master, this was difficult for Anakin to wrap his mind around. It just never made sense. But now, as dust buried itself into his clothing and wind washed it back out and as the purr of his raging speeder sliced through the silent nullity of a planet at rest, Anakin thought he finally found peace within himself and within the galaxy.

       Now he was truly one with the Force.

       About three hours into his ride- though it had felt like an eternity- Anakin picked out a tiny glowing speck in the distance. The light was like a faint candle light and Anakin blinked a dozen times to make sure it wasn't just his imagination. When the microscopic flicker of light didn't disappear, Anakin hopped off his speeder. The engine yawned as if it were falling asleep as he guided the bike over into some nearby brush. The leaves and shadows swallowed up the motor first, and then the seat, and then the handlebars. Now covered in layers of branches and bush, the bike held the features of a trapped animal trying to free itself from a poacher's trap. When the bike was hidden to Anakin's satisfaction, the Jedi started his way on foot toward the glowing candle destination.

       Without the roaring speeder's engine, Anakin was drowning in silence. Shriek-hawks howled in the trees above him. Now that he had reached one of the scarce jungles on Mandalore, he would have to be mindful of the creatures within it. The Shriek-hawks' sickening voices echoed over and over until another on of the avians called back with its one piercing song. As Anakin walked, one silent step after another, his restless mind imagined the black wings of the hawks flashing down in front of him. He imagined its sleek feathers like the cape of a Sith. It would strut in front of him bobbing its ink colored head as its fiery red eyes stabbed into him like the blade of a sword. As treetops rustled to life overhead, Anakin's mind played scenes of the vicious creatures darting down at him; nothing but a blur with razors for talons to slice through his flesh.

       Minutes of walking with these thoughts turned into hours until the glowing light he had spotted in the distance grew into an entire base. He dipped in and out of shadows to avoid patrolling guards and security monitors. The dark sky was slowly giving way to the slightest bit of light, making the world an eerie violet. Once he was past the guards, Anakin slipped aboard a supply freighter entering to base through the hangar. As the crew spilled out to unload, he dashed out of the way just in time to avoid being spotted. He had to be careful about this. The slightest mistake or act of carelessness would compromise everything.

       "Who are you? You're under arrest!"

       The navy helmet in front of him had caught him off guard as he turned the corner around the hall. He was alone, which Anakin could at least be thankful for. "I'm not under arrest." Anakin said calmly. The soldier paused abnormally. "You're not under arrest," he complied. A relieved breath escaped the Jedi as he continued to trick the unknowing clone trooper. "I'm allowed to go on my way," he said softly; leaning closer to the clone.

       "You're allowed to go on your way."

       "Where is the ship that attacked the Jedi Temple?"

       "Hangar eight-eighteen."

       "When's it leaving? Where's it going?"

      "Scheduled departure: 0100 hours. Destination: Onderon."

      Pleased with his answers, Anakin backed away. The navy armored soldier stood still as  if he had been lulled to sleep while still standing up. "You've been of great service, Soldier," Anakin added. The trooper's head bobbed. "I have been of great service." Before Anakin slipped away, he gave a quick salute to the drowsy, navy armored clone.

       "You might want to go lie down now."

       Onderon. Rett was sending his men to find his son. Anakin felt a lump forming in his throat as he sprinted toward the hangar where the phantom ship was awaiting take off. It was now more vital than ever that he stop it. If Rett's men reached Onderon, Luke, Rex, and all of the Alliance soldiers would be massacred the way his fleet had been. The way his Master had been. Anakin drained the thoughts from his mind. He would not let that happen.

       When Anakin reached the hangar, sweat clung to his body like a layer of clothing. Despite his overheated being, a chill ran down his spine at the sight of the ship before him. The craft was gargantuan; filling the entire hangar by itself.  The chrome finish glistened with haunting beauty the silvery floodlights pouring down from the high ceiling. The wings were sharp like razor blades and the vessel's nose might has well have been the tip of a needle. No wonder it was so fast.  An aerodynamic masterpiece. Anakin was both in awe and in horror. He almost regretted having to blow it up.