This chapter was a difficult one to write, seeing as action sequences always seem to take longer to write. (for me, at least)

A heartfelt thank you to all those who left me a review, you guys give me the strength to go forward, even when I think my mind is seemingly devoid of ideas! Then I just sit down, read what everyone has written, get very ambitioned, start typing and the ideas simply flow out freely, like a river that was being blocked by a dam. Thank you once more!

A word of warning: the story will get progressively darker, as the Order's light is slowly extinguished. This chapter is especially dark and there are some scenes that are not intended for the faint of heart. The rating may go up to R (M), I'm not decided yet. Here, there are some scenes that sit almost right at the threshold. You have been warned.

Chapter XVIII - The Value of One Man's Loyalty

"This way! Hurry!"

A large group of Jedi Knights was swiftly making its way through several deserted corridors. Many of them appeared to be extremely tired, judging by their labored breathing and their shaky steps. Their robes were torn, shredded and covered with coagulated blood, but none of them seemed to care. A small explosion could be heard behind them and they quickened their pace, casting worried glances over their shoulders.

"The second barricade is straight ahead" Agen Kolar, the leader of the motley group called. The eyes of many Knights seemed to come to life once again, as they saw the makeshift blockade laid out in front of them.

"There they are! Take aim and shoot!"

Many young Knights and Padawans scrambled frantically to get themselves behind the barrier's protection. The few that managed to keep themselves calm ignited their lightsabers and placed themselves in a defensive perimeter, shielding the others.

Soon enough, several clonetroopers rounded the corner, immediately opening fire on the Jedi. The Knights swiftly spun around, twirling their blades at almost impossible speeds, as numerous blaster bolts were deflected wildly into the floor, walls and ceiling.

"They're not passing through here!" Kolar panted, brushing the sweat from his brow, as his blade decapitated two troopers, with a swiping motion. Unfortunately, another two stepped up in the empty space, continuing the endless barrage of fire.

"They're too many!" a Padawan yelled, but was quickly silenced as a blaster bolt struck him in the abdomen, making him crumple on the floor, with a soft moan.

Kolar gritted his teeth, as a few beads of sweat fell into his eyes, causing his eyesight to blur slightly. Ignoring the sharp, stinging sensation, the Zabrak Master abandoned himself to the Force, allowing it to guide his blade, with deadly precision. Several more soldiers fell down, struck by death, but, for every trooper, a Jedi also fell.

Kolar slowly retreated, moving his saber in an array of slashing moves, in an effort to deflect every incoming blast. The muscles in his body were protesting to the brutal punishment and his upper arms had gone almost numb. Still, that did not stop him from fighting, as another soldier fell, his own shot hitting him between the eyes.

Suddenly, an angry shout could be heard and several troopers turned back, in order to see the source of the commotion. That would prove to be their last mistake, as a cobalt blade ran them through, in the blink of an eye.

With panicked screams, all of the soldiers turned to see a tall man, carrying a boy on one shoulder, while wielding a lightsaber with his free hand. Unexpectedly, he somersaulted, doing a flip in mid-air and landing in the middle of the thoroughly stunned troopers.

"Well, aren't you going to shoot?" he asked, a smirk roughening his features. Igniting the blade once more, he spun around on his heel, holding the weapon out, horizontally. Twelve troopers collapsed, their heads removed from their shoulders.

Seizing the advantage, the surviving Knights jumped out from behind the barricade, their weapons lodging themselves in white-armored bodies.

Soon, no clonetrooper was left standing, in the small corridor.

"Took you long enough to arrive" Kolar grumbled, frowning at Anakin.

"This kid is heavier than I thought" he answered nonchalantly, gently placing the teenage boy on the floor, careful not to tough his broken legs.

Kolar's face darkened, as he looked at the young, deathly-pale Padawan. The boy's chest rose and fell slowly, as the air wheezed in and out of his lungs, in shallow, pained breaths.

"They have no mercy" he sighed, resting his palm on the child's forehead. "Not even for the young ones."

"They were bread not to feel emotion" Anakin answered, leaning against a wall. "Obey orders to the letter and not think on their own."

The Knight closed his eyes, to block out the images of suffering, if only for a few moments. Around him, numerous Jedi were crouched on the floor, some tending to their injuries and some lying in the agony of death, as their brothers watched over them, to make their passing easier.

However, things weren't much better in the solitude of his own mind. The horrible fear that had been ignored in the heat of battle now rose up once again, to laugh in his face. The feeling of impending doom returned with a vengeance and a quick glance at his wrist chrono told Anakin that only three and a half hours of Palpatine's deadline remained. Shuddering, he reflexively swallowed the bile that rose in his mouth, as his hands clenched themselves at his side, a testimony to the mute fury that he was feeling.

Suddenly, the empty blackness behind his closed eyelids disappeared and, for a few seconds, something else replaced it: a hazy, blurred image, of a young woman, lying on a stone floor, her body covered in blood and her eyes wide open, pleading for help. As quickly as it had come, the image faded into nothingness. Blinking furiously a few times, Anakin felt even more disoriented. Had it been Padme? Or someone else, that he had not yet met?

Unexpectedly, the loud clatter of booted feet could be heard and the entire group of Jedi went on alert, those who were still able to fight unhooking their lightsabers.

"Away your weapons put. No harm, do we mean."

Several Knights smiled, in relief, as another group of Jedi appeared, with Master Yoda walking in front. Behind him stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luminara Unduli and the Wookie Chewbacca.

"We thought you were another detachment of clones" Kolar explained, grimacing slightly. "If they keep the offensive at the current pace, we won't be able to hold our positions for more than a few others, at best.

"How are the Younglings?" Yoda inquired, his brow furrowed, in worry.

Anakin took his comlink out of the tunic's pocket, quickly entering a frequency.

"Master Ti, have the clones reached your level yet?"

"No" the Togruta Master's voice could be heard, "it's still fairly quiet here. All of the Younglings have been placed in the command center and the blast doors are securely closed."

"Good. Announce me if the situation changes."

Kolar was listening into his comlink as well, with a frown on his face.

"The Eastern Sector has fallen" he said, in answer to the quizzical stares "and the Knights stationed there were forced to retreat to the third line. The Southern and Western sectors are still in dispute."

"It is not a major loss if we lose one front" Anakin explained, crouching down and drawing a little sketch through the dust on the floor, with one black finger. "So long as we can stretch their forces all across the Temple and stop them from gathering in very large groups. The key, ultimately, is to keep them away from the subterranean levels and the command center."

"But what difference does it make, if we will all be killed, eventually? Why do we protect the Younglings, if there is no chance of taking them off-planet?"

Anakin raised his eyes, to look at the tall, gangly Padawan who had spoken. The young man's forehead was bandaged with a piece of dirty, rough cloth and his left arm has hanging limply, at an unnatural angle.

"Have I said that it is impossible to save them?" he asked, quietly. "No, I said that many of us would likely die in the attempt, but not that everyone is doomed."

"Coruscant is surrounded by a blockade of Star Destroyers!" the Padawan nearly exploded, his eyes shining with fear. "We have no chance of passing through such a gathering of forces!"

"Nothing is truly impossible" Anakin countered. "We only limit ourselves, by believing an obstacle to be impassable."

Obi-Wan's weary features lightened up, as he caught Anakin's eye. To see the Knight use one of the lessons that he had taught him made Obi-Wan feel an unexpected surge of happiness. Even now, surrounded by madness and destruction, a glimmer of hope still existed.

"A blockade-runner would be the wisest choice, in this matter" the Master spoke.

"Unfortunately, the Temple was never equipped with one" Kolar, sighed, forlornly.

"Still, there are citizens on Coruscant who possess such ships" Luminara intervened. "Perhaps if one Jedi were to manage an escape from the Temple, he would be able to seek help."

Chewbacca shook his massive head, growling softly. "The people have turned their backs on your Order. None will have the courage to intervene."

"Those who support us, still there are" Yoda contradicted, leaning on his gimmer cane. "Getting to them, the problem will be."

"Perhaps I could . . ." Obi-Wan started, but was swiftly silenced by Anakin, who jumped up from his crouching position.

"No" the Knight said, his eyes glinting strangely in the diffuse glow of the few lighting rods left. "I will go."

The silence that ensued lasted a few moments, as all eyes rested on Anakin's face. Some Jedi were perplexed, while others were downright annoyed that he would choose to leave in such a critical moment.

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to guess what his former pupil was thinking, but Anakin's features were as unreadable as a stone slab.

"We need you here" he tried, on a placating tone, ignoring the slight flash of anger that showed on his friend's face.

Placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, Anakin led him aside, as the others looked on, frowning.

"I cannot stay any more" he whispered hoarsely, tightening his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulder, making the Master cringe. "She . . . she is in danger. I can feel it!"

"Padme?" Obi-Wan asked. "What do you mean, Anakin?"

"Palpatine gave me a warning" the young man explained, his gaze fixed on his boots. "He has her, Obi-Wan! And if I don't find her in time . . ."

He left the rest unspoken, for he didn't have the power to contemplate what would follow.

"What did you not tell us?" Obi-Wan asked gently, forcing Anakin to meet his eyes. "Why did you keep quiet?"

"Because you were already burdened and I did not want to add another problem to the load" Anakin spoke, forlornly.

Obi-Wan sighed, running his fingers through his short, auburn hair, in a gesture of helplessness.

"You realize that it is Palpatine's intention to lure you into a trap, don't you?" he asked his friend.

Anakin nodded, his features set in a grim expression.

"I have no choice, Obi-Wan. He has tied my hands!" Looking at the dying Padawan, the young man's shoulders squared resolutely. "Besides, I'll be able to get help as well."

"And if he succeeds in capturing you? What then?"

"Then" Anakin answered quietly, as a shadow passed over his face, "I will do what the Force tells me to."

"Please, be careful" Obi-Wan whispered, on the tone that a worried parent would use on its unruly offspring. "Too many of us have died needless deaths."

Anakin tensed slightly, as the footsteps of several troopers could be heard nearby. "If some of us manage to survive this purge, then their deaths will not have been in vain."

The young man's eyes rested on an old, Ithorian Jedi, lying still, in the clutches of death. Several others were kneeling besides him, in quiet mourning. A Padawan extended a shaky hand and covered the departed sentient's face with a cloth piece, torn from a robe.

"There are too many casualties as it is" Chewbacca huffed. Apparently, the Wookie had seen Obi-Wan and Anakin's emotional turmoil, for he now stood beside them, with a sad, solemn look in his black eyes. 'Tarfful warned me, but I still wasn't expecting this . . . savagery!"

He gestured with his paw, to a pair of Knights, who were carrying a wounded friend on their shoulders. The sight was truly horrific, as the poor man had lost both of his legs in an explosion and was now moaning softly, as the others did their best to alleviate his pain, somehow.

"Let him pass into the Force" Bant spoke gently, placing a hand on the other's forehead. "There is no point in prolonging his suffering."

One of the Knights covered her face with her hands, to hide the silent tears, while the other stood saber-straight, his pale face devoid of any expression. Bant held her webbed hands over the wounded man's head and chest, murmuring softly, her eyes closed. His pained cries seemed to subside, as his body stopped contorting and writhing in the throes of agony. A peaceful, almost serene expression appeared on his features and several other Jedi could swear that he was even smiling.

"I see it . . ." came the soft, almost inaudible reply. "I see the light, Bant. It is here, around us, in us . . ." a pause, as an unexpected spasm shook him. "The angels await our passing . . . they will welcome us."

If he had meant to say anything more, no one would know, for the words seemed to die on his lips. The peaceful expression never left his face and his eyes continued to stare unblinkingly at the ceiling, as if seeing the ethereal angels which he had spoken of.

The short, dark-haired woman did her best to control her overflowing emotions, but her shoulders shook slightly, as she struggled to suppress her grief under decades of training. The man stood still, seemingly as emotionless as ever. And then suddenly, he turned around, un clipped the lightsaber from his belt and started walking determinedly toward the approaching group of troopers.

"Knight Traden!" Kolar called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To defend the Order" was the silent, cold reply. "And die, if it is the will of the Force!"

"A Jedi does not resort to revenge" the Zabrak admonished, with a hard look in his dark eyes. "That is a path to the Darkside, Knight Traden!"

"No" the other answered, on the same flat, dead tone. "Skywalker was right" he went on, looking in Anakin's direction. "The Order as we knew it is dead. Our Code failed and it is dead as well. Why continued in following something that has no value anymore?"

With this ominous question hanging in the air, the Knight ignited his blade and broke out into a sprint down the corridor, disappearing behind a corner. None of the Jedi harbored any illusions anymore. They all knew that they would never see Dain Traden alive again. The man's eyes, as he had looked at his dying friend had said it all:

The light that had shone in them was gone, replaced by something far deeper than despair, something dark, primal, akin to madness.

From their faces, it was clear that some of the Jedi huddled behind the small barricade believed some of the Knight's words. Was the Order truly dead? Did the ideals that they had once held dear have any significance in this dark, new world?

Kolar was silent, his eyes closed, as if in deep meditation, seeking answers in the Force. Only a few words, whispered under his breath, hinted what he was feeling:

"He was my Padawan . . ."

From somewhere down the hall, the loud discharges of blasters could be heard, along with the whine of a lightsaber intercepting them.

"I taught him since he was a boy."

The high-pitched howl of a clone raked through the air, followed by another and another.

And then it suddenly stopped. The entire hall grew quiet and only a few dripping sounds could still be heard.

To the small group of Jedi, the silence seemed much more frightening, as the loud thumps of accelerated heartbeats could be plainly heard.

"Do not give into despair" Kolar spoke. His face was paler than usual, but his voice had kept its strict sharpness. "We cannot give in now, when we must prove our strength!"

He waited for a moment, as several faces rose to look him in the eye, before continuing, on a more subsided tone: "Whether we live or die will be determined by the will of the Force. All we can do is fight for the Light and the Code we are sworn to uphold."

By the small flicker than now was visible on many of their faces, it was clear that Kolar's words had brought hope into the souls of the Knights and Padawans, who were now struggling to keep the fear, anger and despair at bay, with their years of training.

Anakin, for his part, had turned his eyes away from the wounded Jedi's suffering, an indescribable expression on his features. Death had always been a very painful subject for him. It had been the only unchanging constant in his life, the one obstacle that he could never leap over, no matter how hard he tried.

As the Suns could not be stopped from setting, so death could never be prevented from taking those closest to him under its shadowy wings. No matter what he did. Perhaps this was Fate and it was best left alone? Perhaps the prophecy hanging on his shoulders was also a curse, killing his loved ones and condemning him to a life of solitude and darkness.

The young man shivered slightly, pressing two black-gloved fingers on the spot between his eyes, as if warding off a headache. These thoughts only served to distract and pull him out of focus. Every time he had feared for someone's passing, Fate had cruelly intervened, making his premonitions come true, in such a gruesome fashion that nothing could protect him from the shock and pain of loss.

Whenever he thought of Fate, he only saw a tangled, infinite web, stretching out in all directions. A myriad of beings were caught in the twisting threads, their faces full of despair, as they called out for help, outstretching white, bony arms, in a mute plea. He would try to help as many as he could, but there would always be those whom he couldn't reach in time, as they were swallowed by the blackness that laid beyond the translucent web, their screams fading into the void.

No matter what he did, in the end he was never strong enough.

"Jedi Skywalker? Are you alright?"

Anakin shook his head quickly, trying to banish the disturbing images in the depths of his mind, where he would never be able to see them again. Vaguely, he was aware that his fists were curled and that the circuitry of the prosthetic arms was straining under the immense pressure.

"Yes" he answered, breathing quickly. "Yes. I'm alright."

Obi-Wan, who had stood silent the entire time, looked hard at his friend, as if saying: No, you are not. However, he wisely kept those words to himself, opting for a more diplomatic approach.

"What do you intend to do, Anakin?"

"I will face him" was the immediate reply. Obi-Wan could not detect any trace of hesitation in the other's voice. "If a confrontation he wants, then a confrontation he will receive!"

"Are you ready for this?"

"Yes."

"Will you not give into temptation and anger?"

"I will try."

This time, Obi-Wan noted, with worry, there had been a slight hesitation. The Jedi Master could only let out a breath he was unconsciously holding, while looking into his friend's eyes.

"Then go" he said, resignedly. "I will not stop you. I've learned that arguing with you is useless."

The ghost of a smile seemed to brighten Anakin's face for almost a second, before he composed himself once more.

"When have I ever let you down, eh?"

"Trust me, you do not want to know . . ."

Chewbacca watched the exchange with interest. It was clear that the two Jedi were very close to each other, by their tones and relaxed body postures. However, an undercurrent of tension seemed to run just below the surface. Both seemed tense and on edge, albeit for very different reasons.

"May I help you in your task, Jedi Skywalker?" the Wookie asked, ending the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between the two men.

Anakin looked up at the tall sentient, his features betraying his surprise.

"No, Chewbacca" he shook his head. "I will not get another involved in this."

"Still" the Wookie insisted, "strength always lies in numbers. Every cub has to learn that, as does every Jedi. If you wish to be of any help to your life-mate, you will have to leave your stubbornness aside."

Anakin winced, at Chewbacca's words. Just how had the Wookie known?

"I am not deaf" the sentient answered, with an amused bark. "Many in the Temple speak about this. I do not mean to judge you" he added, seeing the expression on Anakin's face, "only to show you that the burden is not necessarily only yours to carry."

Anakin frowned, studying the other from head to toe. Chewbacca seemed to be a capable warrior and by his earlier words, the young Jedi deduced that the Wookie had spent a lot of time in the company of humans, for he had a very deep understanding of them.

"As you wish" he answered. "I will allow you to join me, but only so far as the Temple's entrance. The other Jedi will need all the help they can get. Everyone is important now."

The Wookie nodded curtly, in response to the other's decision. With a quick move, he picked up his bowcaster, slinging it over his shoulder.

Checking that he still had his lightsaber strapped to his utility belt, Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, who was struggling to calm an almost hysterical Padawan.

"May the Force be with you, Master" Anakin said, out of habit. They had exchanged this greeting many times, over the years, when they had been separated. Yet, this time, the words seemed to loom over their heads, as threatening as dark storm cloud.

"May the Force be with you too" was Obi-Wan's reply. The man extended a hand, as if to touch the other, but Anakin had already somersaulted over the barricade and was running straight ahead, Chewbacca hot on his heels. The Master sighed once more, rubbing a palm over his tired eyes. He still felt it, even more powerful than before: Anakin was drifting farther from him. The more he tried to keep him close, the more he lost him, like the sand that flowed between his fingers, no matter what he did.

And now, the hand of Fate (or the Force?) had put them on opposite roads once more, the Master realized, as he watched the fading figure, with a black mantle billowing behind him.

Will you ever be truly safe, my brother? was the question that kept repeating itself in his mind, over and over, as he leaned down to check the pulse of another wounded Knight. Will this nightmare ever come to an end?

x x x

Padme couldn't understand. Or think, for that matter. Floating gently, in a warm ocean of brightness, her thoughts kept scattering in all directions, the moment she tried to pull them together. She felt safe and content in the whiteness that surrounded her, even though a part of her mind kept warning her that she was still in danger. What danger? What was her subconscious trying to tell her?

But once more, all rational thought seemed to flee from her, as she could only keep floating on the warm current.

Am I losing my mind?

For a Senator, whose whole life had been spent dealing with certainty and facts, the question seemed perfectly logical. Where was she? And, more importantly, what was she doing here?

The answers were eluding her.

"Padme? Padme, my angel, can you hear me?"

That voice . . . it had seemed so familiar . . . her heart leapt with joy, in her chest, even though she did not know exactly why. She could see the tall silhouette of a man, walking towards her, on the surface of the white water.

"Don't you recognize me?" the man asked, reaching out to her, with a black-gloved hand. "Padme, please answer me!"

There was such urgency, such pain, such desperation in his voice, that Padme wished she could help him. She raised her own hand, placing it in his larger one.

The worry on his face instantly melted away, to reveal a bright smile and two luminous eyes.

"My angel . . ."

With a sudden move, he wrapped both of his arms around her waist, gathering her to him and crushing her against his chest. "My angel."

Padme's heart was fluttering madly in her chest, as she struggled to breathe, in the man's tight embrace. Her face was buried in his large chest, pressed firmly against him. She could feel the smell of leather, skin and metal, a somewhat strange combination that nonetheless was very familiar to her.

"Ani?" was the quiet, whispered question. She remembered him now, as a myriad of images were piling up inside her head.

His smile widened even more in response to her words, as he bent down and touched her forehead with his lips. Padme trembled slightly, as a shiver passed through her body. She could not be sure if it had been anxiousness, fear, happiness or another, unnamed feeling that had caused it.

"What is it, my love?" the man asked, his brow furrowing in confusion, as he traced one finger over Padme's cheek.

"I . . . don't know", she answered, the confusion rising to the surface once more. As she met her husband's troubled eyes, another memory immediately appeared. "Your dreams!"

"What about them?" Anakin inquired, cupping her face in both of his hands.

"You saw me in pain, dying", she answered, hesitatingly. "What happens next?"

A small chuckle came from the other one. "You are not dead, Padme. You are here, safe with me. And it will be this way forever."

"And the baby?" she could not keep herself from asking, as the warning of danger in her mind intensified.

"It does not matter", Anakin answered, quickly swatting the subject aside.

"It does!" Padme contradicted him, trying to pull away from his wild embrace.

The young man's features seemed to darken, as he frowned. "What difference does it make? We are finally together, away from the Jedi, the Senate and the world and all you can think of is your child?"

"Our child, Anakin!" Padme whimpered, as her heartbeat accelerated, this time out of fear, not love.

"I did not ask for it", was the laconic reply.

'It'. That one word made Padme feel as if a sword of ice had been shoved through her chest. Her husband, the man she loved more than anything in this world, was calling their baby 'it', as if she wasn't a living being . . . as if she wasn't his own flesh and blood.

"You will die in childbirth", he repeated the ominous words. "If I have to choose between you and it, I choose you!"

Padme shoved him brutally, in an effort to get away, but his black hands tightened painfully around her forearms, making her cry out in pain.

"Let me go!" she screamed, twisting and turning against his hold.

Anakin's face had changed. Whereas a few moments ago it was happy and carefree, now his features were rougher and darker than she had ever known them to be.

And his eyes were shining amber-yellow.

"Let me go!"

"Stop struggling, Padme!" he ordered gruffly, gripping her shoulders and shaking her.

The woman's eyes were brimming with unshed tears, as she looked at the unyielding face, so unlike that of her husband. No, this face belonged to someone else, another person, one whom she feared with her whole being. Her instincts kept screaming at her to run as fast as she could.

"I will not let you die!" the dark Anakin growled, his eyes flashing with a look that she could not describe. It had not been love. It had been something far more sinister. It had been lust, a primal desire for possession.

Padme flinched suddenly, as the man ignited a crimson lightsaber, which he had been holding in this left hand. "This child must not be born!" he spoke, bringing his blade down in a sideways cut.

The woman cried out once more, as the energy beam seared her abdomen, in one sweep. As her entire body was invaded with wave after wave of pain, Padme's eyes wondered to her torso, from which a steady stream of blood was pouring. Her throat felt sore from the screaming, as she placed her hands on the wide gash, in an effort, to stop the massive hemorrhage. A large pool of dark blood had gathered at her feet, as everything seemed to be spinning and twisting around her. She could vaguely see the man (monster), looking at her, with a mixture of rage and elation upon his face.

Padme felt her knees give way, as she fell down, onto a cold, marble floor. She had been screaming the entire time, but her voice sounded alien to her own ears, as if it belonged to another. It was a long, mournful howl, seeming to belong to a crazed animal and not a human being. Around her, the dark, warm pool was extending and she could feel her life draining away, under her palms.

But something far worse had happened, she realized, as the madness of pain left her mind. Where there had been a warmth growing inside her, now only stood coldness and nothingness. Where there had once been life, only death existed now.

"My baby . . ."

That one word had escaped her lips, a low moan, like the chirp of a dying bird. It was only one word and yet, for her, it now held together all of the agony and despair, coalescing it into one single desire. A desire to make the one that had killed her child pay.

As she raised her eyes once more, she could see the man's outline, as if she were looking through a crimson veil. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the hundreds of stabs of pain that coursed through her, as if she were breaking apart on the inside. The man was still smiling condescendingly at her, as if she were a child, unable to understand the logic of a well-meaning parent.

"You monster!" Padme half whispered, half yelled, as she threw her self at the Jedi, gripping him by the leather tabard and shaking him wildly. "You monster!" It was the only thing she could say now, but it conveyed all of her pain and hate.

This is not my Anakin, her mind was repeating over and over, as a final refuge from madness. And it was true. The man may have been as handsome as Anakin, may have been able to talk and act like Anakin, but he was not her husband. His eyes were as cold and lifeless as the heart of a glacier and something dark and wild lurked in their depths.

With the desperation born in the heart of one who had nothing more to lose, Padme raked her nails over the man's face. The Jedi hissed in pain, as small droplets of blood poured from a few gashes on his cheeks.

"Foolish woman!" Anakin snarled venomously, shoving, Padme's body away from him, making the wounded woman fall once more. Her back hit the cold floor, as the air was torn out of her lungs. She could see the dark man approaching her, as his boots clichéd on the stone dais. His face was contorted by a cruel smile and his eyes were once more the sickly yellow.

This is not my Anakin! This is a madman!

She wanted to pull herself up again, to crawl away from that malevolent presence, but her strength was completely gone, as her life-blood continued to stain the floor. Wincing in pain, Padme curled herself into a ball, closing her eyes, to block out the image of the Knight's twisted face. Her hands were still pressed against the wound on her abdomen, as if that would bring her child back to life once more.

Force, have mercy on me! Padme silently prayed, as she heard the red lightsaber activate once more. The man raised the weapon over his head, as if preparing to deliver the final strike.

And yet, the agony of death never came.

Padme cautiously opened her eyes, to see the faux Anakin, his amber eyes opened wide, in horror, his lips forming a small 'O'. The woman's heart appeared to skip a beat, as she saw a golden blade, sticking out of his chest. With a hushed groan, he crumpled to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been severed. Behind him, stood a tall woman, dressed in a white jumpsuit, holding a lightsaber in one hand.

"Do not worry", she whispered gently, kneeling next to Padme. "I won't hurt you."

Extending a hand, she placed it on Padme's abdomen and the woman felt as if a warm current was electrifying every cell in her body. Looking down, in astonishment, she saw that the wide gash was completely gone.

"H- how?" were the only words that she could utter.

The other woman only smiled, enigmatically.

Padme's eyes fell once more upon the man who was now collapsed on the floor.

"Who was he?" Padme couldn't stop herself from asking.

"The embodiment of your fears", came the other's answer." This is your subconscious", she continued, seeing the Senator's bafflement. "Your spirit has retreated here, to get away from the Emperor. In this deep place, many things that the mind conjures can seem very real."

Padme gasped slightly, as the body disappeared, along with the icy floor, only to be replaced by the endless ocean of light once more. The white-clad woman placed a hand on her back, helping her to stand.

"Here, your fears are revealed for what they truly are. Here, you must be honest with yourself and stop hiding behind comforting half-truths."

Padme nodded her head vaguely, as she swallowed the large lump that was lodged in her throat. Looking at her companion, she met the melancholic look of two, blue eyes.

"Have faith. All is not over yet. Your husband loves you and he will risk his life to save you."

A part of Padme wanted to ask the strange woman from where she knew all this, but another side told her that it was best if some things remained unknown.

"Have faith, Mother", she whispered, before suddenly disappearing into the blinding whiteness.

Padme stood still for a few moments, barely able to breathe. The girl was the same one that she had seen in the Senate rotunda . . . her daughter! That thought should have brought her happiness, yet now it only made her feel all the more vulnerable. She was carrying a child that would likely change the fate of the Galaxy as a whole, but was unable to protect it, in the situation in which she currently found herself.

"Ani", she choked out, as a wave of tears threatened to burst out, testimony to the emotional upheaval through which she had been put through, "where are you?"

x x x

Kazuya bit her tongue painfully, to prevent herself from lashing out at the trooper who was brutally shoving her down the hallway. To her right, Jor didn't appear to be faring any better, as a clone kicked him in the shin, when he had stumbled over a fallen body.

The girl caught her friend's eye, with an accusing glare, that almost said: This was the most idiotic idea ever.

Jor shrugged his shoulders, before he was backhanded for not standing still.

"Gentlemen, that certainly is not the proper way to treat children."

The clones halted instantly. In front of them, at the end of the corridor, stood a tall Jedi Master, with grey eyes and white hair, tied into an elegant pony-tail.

"Master Drallig!" Jor exclaimed, recognizing the Temple's Swordmaster.

Cin Drallig smiled, as he unhooked his blade from its holster.

"Now, I suggest you set the children free, before any more blood is spilt unnecessarily."

"You are in no position to make demands, Jedi" the officer who lead the party spat with disdain. "Men, kill him!"

The clones immediately opened fire, making Drallig jump several meters into the air, before landing close to them. Extending his hand, the Master called the Force to his aid. The life-energy responded and several troopers were hurled into the air, before smashing into the walls or ground. Drallig ignited a bright, turquoise blade, as he sidestepped a charging clone, impaling it with the tip of the weapon.

Jor and Kazuya could only stare open-mouthed, as Cin Drallig seemed to move with unfathomable speed and precision. Clone after clone fell under the onslaught of his lightsaber, without a second's warning. With low grunts, the soldiers who were holding the two Padawans crumpled to the ground, their heads severed from the shoulders.

"By the Force!" was all that Jor could whisper. The Swordmaster had dispatched almost a dozen clones in about as many seconds.

"Well you two" he addressed them sternly, "don't just stand there, gaping. Come with me!"

The teenagers felt overwhelmed by the tumultuous events of the past few hours. glancing shyly at the dignified Master, they followed him down the now quiet corridor.

"You two are the ones who were left without a Master?" Drallig asked them, as they carefully climbed down a set of stairs.

"Yes, sir" Kazuya answered, as her foot almost slipped on the slick surface of the stair. Wincing, she tried to keep her broken arm as immobile as possible.

"Then what were you doing in the East section? You were supposed to be helping Master with the Younglings!"

The Padawans bowed their heads in shame, hearing his reproachful tone.

"We wanted to help" Jor said, weakly.

"Getting yourselves killed isn't much help!" Drallig chastised them sternly.

The children fell silent, for none knew how to answer. True, they had not heeded the orders of the other Masters. Yet, they had wanted to fight for the Order as well, like the older Padawans.

"You can fight for the Order" the Swordmaster spoke suddenly, picking up their distressed thoughts. "Don't you understand, children? The Jedi are dying! Thousands of years of knowledge will be lost forever, if none of us survive!"

His tone was no longer harsh; now it was sad, mournful, and full of regret.

"In the end, the young ones will be the future" he whispered. "If the old Masters do not survive, the Younglings are our only hope."

Drallig's grey eyes moved to Jor and Kazuya and the two could almost swear that they had seen sympathy shine in their depths.

"When this massacre will be over, the future will rest solely un the shoulders of the next generation.

The Padawans shivered slightly, wondering if the Master's words were prophetic, or merely dark ruminations, brought by the pain and the shock of the last few hours.

x x x

"Commander, behind you!"

C/704 threw himself to the ground, the instant that a green lightsaber seared the air where his head had been, mere seconds before. Rolling over, to get farther from his attacker, he pulled out his concussion blaster from its holster, taking careful aim. The Jedi brought his blade into a defensive stance, deflecting all of the bolts that the clone was shooting at him.

Suddenly, the Knight dropped his weapon, which clattered nosily on the floor. With a blank stare in his eyes, he collapsed, as a bolt tore through his skull.

"What did you do?" another clone asked, perplexed, as he helped 704 to rise.

"A little trick I learned in the war, facing a few dark Jedi" he explained, wiping the grime from his armor. "A concussion blast and a lightsaber do not mix very well. The vibrations of the impact are enough to break bones. In this case, the Jedi wasn't able to hold his weapon any longer. And then . . ."

He pointed to the fallen Knight, for emphasis.

The other trooper nodded respectfully, in deference of his superior's experience.

"Go and tend to your post", C/704 ordered, before he started walking down the hall, after a large group of his brothers.

"Sir" a clone called, from the front of the group, "there is a large group of Jedi in front of us."

704 crouched down, squinting his eyes, through the visor of his helmet. Yes, there seemed to be around seven Knights, lying behind what appeared to be a barricade, erected with furniture, a broken column and several plasteel cylinders.

"What should we do, sir?" a trooper asked.

"There are too many of them for a direct attack" he answered. "Brute force will lead us nowhere."

"Indeed. You will be slaughtered, most likely."

704 and several other troopers turned around, in surprise, only to see another bother, clad in white armor, with distinctive orange markings.

"Commander Cody?' he asked, recognizing the man's symbol. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping with the execution of Order 66, of course" the clone answered, in an emotionless voice.

C/704 could only frown behind his mask at this.

"His Majesty did not inform me that you were in a position of command" he said, regarding the other wearily.

"After your little interactions with the Jedi Skywalker, I have come to believe that you are much too conflicted in order to lead this task."

The soldier was speechless for a few moments, before a wave of indignation crashed through him.

"Who are you to presume that I am not fit to lead this operation?" 704 asked, his tone cold and firm.

"It is very simple" Cody answered. "You hesitate in killing Jedi. Not to mention the fact that you spared Anakin Skywalker's life twice."

C/704 wanted to launch a sarcastic reply at the other clone. Only the Force knew with what he had been forced to put up, from insubordinate soldiers, during the war. Yet, now, he found himself at a total loss for words. He knew very well that Cody was right. His remaining strands of loyalty to Skywalker were making him a hazard to the entire operation. But, he realized that being flung out of command by a much younger clone was a very deep wound to his personal pride and he wasn't about to give up easily.

"Cody" he said, with a dangerous edge to his words, "I have fought longer in this war than you have and I believe I have more experience than you."

The other trooper merely shook his helmeted head, in amusement.

"True, but you have not served with the Jedi as long as I have. They can be very cunning when they want to."

As if I didn't already know that! 704 grumbled to himself, but stood silent, as Cody continued.

"Do you even know who the Jedi behind that barricade are? Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda and Agen Kolar, with whom I have served in the war. Plus a few others who will not be sitting around idly, asking to be shot!"

Cody shook his head once more, disdainfully.

"C/704, for the mission's sake, I am asking you to formally resign your command."

The trooper kept his silence a little longer. He felt the stares of the others boring into his back. He harbored not illusions; they would join Cody instantly, for the other had a higher rank than him.

Sighing, 704 tore the blue patch on his shoulder, which showed his rank and threw it at Cody. The other caught it in midair and attached it to his chestplate, with a small smile behind the white mask.

"I'm glad you can listen to reason" the trooper said, loading his rifle. "Men, on my order, you will split into two groups . . ."

704 stood on the sideline, as Cody outlined a plan. He had no intention whatsoever to help the other with his endeavor. If he wanted to get his head sliced off his shoulders by Yoda, that was his problem. And he did not doubt the fact that Cody would have ordered him out of the mission entirely, if he had possessed the necessary authority.

Pride? Spite? he asked himself, feeling vaguely amused. Perhaps the Kaminoans had made him a little too human, after all.

Turning his back upon Cody, he started walking down a narrow hallway, his thoughts still spinning like crazy inside his head. Why couldn't he be like his brothers, forsaking all emotion, in favor of duty?

And what fun is that, acting like a mindless drone?

He smirked slightly. Yes, Anakin would say just that, if he knew of his internal turmoil. Annoyed, the soldier sped up his pace. He was thinking about Skywalker again, when he should be trying to banish him from his thoughts!

But he had served with the Jedi nearly a year and a half, after the disaster in the Setter system . . . could he give up on a man he had grown accustomed to calling a friend?

704 leaned against the durasteel bulkhead, looking at the young Jedi, with a mixture of amazement and irritation. Skywalker was standing on one hand, his legs pointing upwards. The soldier had seen others do this, during training. What made things different now was the fact that the Padawan was supporting the weight of his entire body on only two fingers, without losing his precarious balance and toppling over.

"Kid" he smirked, "you should have joined the galactic circus."

"Obi-Wan used to joke about that" came the retort. "Said I could go to the circus if I failed as a Jedi. But I have no intention of doing that!"

As always, when he was speaking of his ambition to become a Knight, Anakin's eyes were glowing determinedly. In other circumstances, it would have made him look imposing. Now, however, with his cheeks red from the blood draining out of his legs, 704 thought that the boy looked ridiculous.

"What's so funny?" Anakin asked, seeing as the other had started chuckling lightly.

"This" the soldier answered, giving the young man an unexpected shove. Caught off guard, Anakin unceremoniously crashed into the floor, on his stomach, his legs flailing wildly, in all sides.

Now, 704 had to hold onto the bulkhead, to stop himself from doubling over with laughter.

"Droll, very droll" Anakin muttered, gathering himself up from the floor, while throwing menacing glares at the other man.

"Kid, you need to learn to laugh more" 704 said, as he struggled to stop his chuckling. "You've been much too serious these past few days, you know?"

At this, Anakin merely walked to the room's small viewport and gazed out at the colorful lines of hyperspace.

"I miss someone" he said, plainly.

"I had figured that much. Yesterday, in the flight simulator, you seemed to be a million parsecs away. Perhaps that's why Thano blasted you so easily!"

Anakin made a show of rolling his eyes, as dramatically as possible.

"So, who is she?"

The Jedi stared at the clone, with a stunned expression on his face, which almost caused 704 to start laughing again.

"Of course I realized this was about a lass, kid! Why else would a young man such as yourself be spending all of his free time gazing at the stars, daydreaming and sending secret holos to Coruscant?"

"You knew?"

The soldier crossed his legs, in a casual stance.

"Dek, over at Communications, was puzzled as to who was sending messages to Coruscant, in the dead of night. I told him to keep quiet about it."

Anakin smiled, an act which seemed to soften his features.

"I wish I could tell you about her."

The clone playfully punched the young man's shoulder.

"I'll be looking forward to it, Anakin" he said, walking to the door. On the threshold, he turned around, eying the youth with a mock-stern expression. "However, that does not give you any excuses for blundering about, like a love-sick puppy!"

And he was out, before Anakin could fire his annoyed retort.

C/704 hastened his footsteps once more, breaking into an all-out sprint. Forget about him! He means nothing now!

But an obstinate part of himself was still insisting: You swore loyalty to him, to serve him, out of all the Jedi on the front, because you respected him.

The clone wanted to argue, but he thought better of it. Having a contradiction with one's conscience was not exactly a good idea. Not to mention the fact that it was the first sign of madness.

Maybe all of this is driving me crazy, he thought, as he descended on a flight of stairs, jumping three at a time. Are clones able to lose their minds?

Perhaps you are much more a true human than you first imagined, was the stubborn conscience's reply, but the trooper chose to ignore it. Rounding a corner, he skidded to a halt, almost slipping on a small puddle of blood. In front of him, two troopers were locked in combat with a Twi'lek Jedi. The Knight deftly parried all of their blasts, sending them sailing into the ceiling.

Deflect this! 704 said to himself, as he pulled out his concussion blaster. The Jedi was much too focused on the other clones, so he never saw the deadly blast coming. It hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, throwing him several feet into the air, before he came to a halt on the smeared floor.

C/704 walked casually to the fallen being, ignoring his brothers' heartfelt thanks. Reaching the body, he flipped it over with the tip of his white boot, to look in the Twi'lek's frozen, dead eyes. The expression of pain that was chiseled on the Knight's features had no effect whatsoever on the clone, who continued to look on, unmoved. It was easy to kill other Jedi. He did it with the clinical detachment of a man following the orders of his Monarch, of a man created to serve. Then, why couldn't he get rid of that blasted Skywalker and finally lose the weight that had thrown onto his shoulders?

Swearing under his breath, the clone left the corpse in the care of the others, as he trudged onward, with no real purpose in mind. He needed to walk, fight and dispatch every Jedi that got in his way. If he allowed himself any type of respite, the doubt would suddenly boil to the surface once more.

Just what did the Jedi do, to deserve the Emperor's wrath? he wondered, knowing full well that he may never know the answer. Why does he want them all eliminated? They were honest, honorable people. They deserved another fate.

Pulling his thoughts to a halt, before they could turn treasonous, the clone raised his eyes from the floor . . . and froze instantly, when he saw what lay in front of him. For a few seconds, all he could do was stand and stare, as the turmoil inside peaked. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled out his weapon once more, charging ahead, his intent shining fiercely in his eyes.

x x x

Anakin's black boots were pounding furiously on the pavement, as he ran. Behind him, he could hear the Wookie's loud pants, as he struggled to keep up with the Jedi.

"Stop!" Anakin ordered, extending a hand. Chewbacca saw the sign and slowed down, stopping alongside the young man.

"What is it?" the Wookie inquired.

"Clones behind the corner" Anakin explained. "I can feel them through the Force."

Chewbacca let out a deep, menacing growl, as he readied his bowcaster. "Then what are we waiting for? They have slaughtered your brethren, Jedi Skywalker!"

"I know" Anakin answered, "but if we jump in blindly and get ourselves killed, we won't be doing anyone any favors."

"Then what do you suggest?" the sentient asked. It was very clear that Chewbacca had started to loathe the clones, when he had seen the slaughter that they were causing in the Temple.

"We lure them out" Anakin asked, a malicious grin on his lips. Raising one black hand, used the Force to push an already damaged marble column, making it fall, with a deafening sound. Soon, a group of about ten troopers were coming their way, to investigate the source of the commotion.

"Now, we pick them one at a time" Anakin said. Not waiting for Chewbacca's answer, he ignited his blade, leaping over the shattered column. The clones gasped, shocked to see a Jedi landing in their midst, seemingly out of nowhere. For several, it was their last conscious thought, as the lightsaber burned through their chests, with almost surgical precision. The rest, recovering from their stupor, instantly opened fire, only to have their bolts immediately returned to them. A soldier attempted to shoot Anakin in the back, but he felt a sudden wave of pain, as a large, furry paw grabbed him by the helmet. Chewbacca tossed the trooper into the air, before slamming him into the ground, with a force that broke every bone in the clone's body.

The last of the group fell as well, as he was unexpectedly shoved out an open window, to his death, several hundred stories below.

"So, the stories were true, then" Chewbacca huffed, eying Anakin with a shrewd look in his black eyes.

"What stories?" the young Jedi asked, carefully stepping over a clone whose body had been severed in two.

"In the war, soldiers used to say that, in close combat, you are as deadly as a Raltyriian Tiger. I thought that most were exaggerations, told by humans under the influence of alcohol or spice. It appears I have been proven wrong."

Anakin nodded his head, accepting the other's compliment. Silently, he pointed to an even larger assembly of clones, who was marching toward them. Loading his crossbow, Chewbacca fired several shots, making three troopers collapse in mid-stride. The rest started shooting as well and the whole thing degenerated into a frenzied free-for-all.

The young Knight used swift, precise strokes of the lightsaber, to deflect every single bolt away from him. Swinging the blade over his shoulder, in a classic Shien riposte, Anakin took a step forward, bringing the blade around in a deadly arc, which severed the arms of a clone and the legs of another. Moving with the ease of one who had been training in the arts of combat since childhood, Anakin held his weapon with one hand, while his other black fist smashed into the visor of a trooper, shattering it. The clone doubled over in pain, only to receive a knee in the stomach. Before he could do anything to stop his attacker, the luminous blade came down once more, bringing his life to a mercifully quick end.

"You fight very well yourself" Anakin panted, wiping the sweat from his brow, as he watched Chewbacca slamming a clone into the wall, while he shot another.

The Wookie wanted to answer, but no words left his mouth, only a long howl of pain. And another. And another.

Anakin, sensing a warning from the Force and smelling the stench of burnt hair in the air, looked at Chewbacca' who was crumpled on the ground, as a clone had managed to pump several bolts into his back. Abandoning all rational thought, Anakin allowed the Force to take over. Drawing heavily on its energies, he dashed through the storm of laser blasts, in order to reach his wounded comrade. Kneeling next to the Wookie, he pulled the large being behind the marble column, while evading the deadly blasts that kept heading their way.

Hidden safely behind a large stone slab, Anakin grabbed several scattered cloth pieces. Tying them together, he pressed them on the Wookie's wounds, to stop the profuse bleeding.

"Stand still" he ordered, when he felt the other move, "or you'll bleed to death."

Chewbacca heeded his warning, for he stooped moving, The Wookie's eyes were closed and his face was scrunched up, a testimony to the pain that he was feeling. Anakin stood quietly by him, his palms still on the wound, as he tried to use the Force, in order to heal it. Why has the Wookie gotten himself involved in this? the Knight wondered, with increasing anger. This is not his war! These clones should hunt us, not those who seek to help us!

The maelstrom of anger was increasing in strength, but Anakin didn't care. Ultimately, one man was responsible for all of the bloodshed around him. Palpatine. The Emperor's name only managed to make the blood boil even harder in the young Jedi's veins. If it hadn't been for that two-faced Sith, none of this would be occurring!

Your anger makes you stronger, gives you focus, Palpatine had told him and Anakin had to acknowledge that the decrepit old man had been right, on this point. Renouncing his struggle, the Knight allowed his emotions to flow free into his body and to weave themselves together with the fabric of the Force. Somewhere, in a deep part of his mind, he could almost hear Obi-Wan's panicked voice, warning him that he was treading a very fine line. Anakin swatted it away, as though it were an irksome fly. The last thing he heeded now was Obi-Wan, giving him a lecture, inside his head!

The clones had ceased their fire, seeing as nothing was moving, in the narrow hallway. One of them pointed toward the crumbled column.

"I saw the Jedi and the Wookie hiding behind that thing."

"Advance slowly" a trooper advised, taking command of the situation. "Those two are very dangerous."

Another clone tilted his helmeted head to the side, his voice lined with skepticism. "The Wookie is as good as dead. As for the Jedi . . ." he patted the barrel of his rifle, "there's ten of us and only him."

The others seemed to become much more audacious in their advance, after their brother's words. Suddenly, they all stopped, as a tall, dark silhouette rose slowly from behind the column. The man's head was bowed, making it impossible to see his features and both black-gloved hands were held high, palms forward, meaning either peace or surrender. The clones tightened the hold on their weapons, but none opened fire. Truth be told, they were curious as to the Jedi's intentions.

The man walked slowly to them. When he was only a few meters from the first line, he stopped as well.

"What do you want, Jedi?" the leader asked, keeping the other under careful scrutiny.

The Knight stood silent, before he answered. "Get out of here. All of you!"

Some of the troopers gaped at him, stunned by his boldness. The commander chuckled behind his mask.

"That is the last thing we would do, Jedi."

"Then, you will pay with your lives!" came the other's determined answer, as he raised his eyes, to look at his opponents. All of the troopers gasped, for the Knight's lips were upturned, in a feral smile, but his eyes were as cold as the nights on Hoth.

"Get out of my way!" he growled, extending his hands forward. The clones raised their blasters, but none got the chance to fire, as all Hell broke loose. The very floor started to shake under their boots and large pieces of stone and metal suddenly became airborne.

"Hit the ground!" a soldier shouted, seeing the danger, but it was too late. A massive slab crashed into them, crushing three men under it. One, who tried to crawl away, found himself being thrown into the walls and several others were impaled on a few jagged metal polls.

The leader had thrown himself into a crammed niche, to escape the destruction. The soldier pulled off his helmet, to be able to breathe more freely. Heart hammering wildly in his chest, the man struggled to get over his shock. A lone Jedi had managed to slaughter his entire squadron, in less than fifteen seconds, without even igniting that energy sword of his! Who ever that man was, the soldier did not want to have anything to do with him.

Outside, he could hear the low, muffled sounds of the dying. For a moment, there was a quick shuffle, a small yelp of pain and one of his brothers fell next to the leader. The man stared at the other's smashed helmet, as he felt his heartbeat go up another notch. Now, there was total silence . . . except for the thump of a pair of boots, on the stone dais. The clone struggled to crawl even deeper into the niche, to no avail, as the Jedi's looming figure appeared above him.

"Have mercy . . ." was the only thing that the terrified soldier could utter, as he gazed into the other's ice-cold eyes.

"Mercy?" the Jedi asked, on a perfectly calm, controlled tone. "Mercy, like the one you showed to those Padawans, at the gates? I don't think so!"

The trooper almost screamed, as he felt the cold fingers of an invisible hand curling themselves around his heart. Thrashing around madly, he desperately tried to pull himself out of their grip, but it was useless.

"Do you know what I despise the most?" the Jedi asked, as he watched the writhing clone with detachment.

"N-no" the soldier stammered, still looking at the other, searching for any semblance of mercy.

"Cowardice" was the curt reply, before the pressure on his pounding heart increased. Letting out a yell of desperation, the clone threw himself at his would-be killer, but Anakin merely sidestepped and the trooper slammed hard into the floor.

"Your Emperor has made a very big mistake in challenging me!" the Jedi spoke, eying the other man with barely restrained anger. The clone managed to control his body's desperate thrashing and contorting, as he spat on the Jedi's black boots.

"I hope you burn in hell!" he croaked out, with his last strength. The Knight's eyes flashed in rage, as he changed his grip and the clone suddenly stopped moving, as his heart exploded in his chest.

Then, a heavy blanket of silence lowered itself over the hall. Anakin looked once last time at the soldier's blood-stained face, as he turned his back on the fallen sentient. The Jedi could feel the residue of power still flowing through his veins, a lethal venom and a dark ambrosia at the same time. He slowly basked in the dark waves, but a voice with had been silenced during the battle rose to the surface. But this time, it was not Obi-Wan's voice, but his own, terrified at the destruction around him.

What am I doing? it kept repeating over and over, in shock, like a broken litany. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

Anakin struggled to suppress his conscience's screams. There would be time for guilt trips later. Now, survival was his first priority.

Even if it means drawing on the Darkside?

The young Knight shivered. A part of him had enjoyed the feel of power, just like in the Tusken camp and in the many incidents of the war, that had forced him to tap into the Dark power. But another part was screaming at him to stop, that this path lead only to more death and suffering.

Caught up in his own internal war, Anakin did not sense a lone clone, who was still alive. The man had escaped a gruesome fate, for the initial Force-blast had thrown him down a stairwell and he had gotten only a few minor bruises from the rough tumble.

Staying hidden behind a large piece of stone that had fallen out of the ceiling, the clone slowly took out his blaster. Taking advantage of the fact that the Jedi was standing with his back towards him, the soldier carefully took aim.

Anakin felt a sudden shift in the energy around him and the Force screamed a warning in his ears. Obeying, he quickly spun around, only to be narrowly missed by a bolt. However, another came after he first one and, conflicted as he was, Anakin was ill prepared. The laser beam tore through his left knee and the Jedi let out a scream. His legs crumpled completely under him and he fell to the ground, hard.

The young Knight pursed his lips together, to try and contain the pain that he was feeling, as the white-clad soldier approached him, blaster rifle at the ready.

"So" the clone said, studying the fallen man, "the mighty Jedi does have weaknesses!" He frowned at Anakin and his voice grew darker. "I will make you pay for what you did to my brothers!"

Anakin wanted to call the Force to him, to use it against the trooper, to push the weapon out of his hands, but he couldn't. The unending waves of pain that emanated from his shattered knee kept him from focusing enough in order to be able to use the Force in any manner. He saw the clone aiming its weapon for a shot to the head and he willed himself to relax and let go of his fear. Perhaps this was meant as retribution for the lives that he had taken, he wondered, as his conscience chose this very moment to return with a vengeance. He could almost see Padme's face, hovering only inches from his. The young woman appeared to be scared and the fear was most certainly directed toward him. No, he realized, as regret boiled to the surface, his wife would not want to see him like this, a dark, merciless killer. It would, most likely, break her heart.

"I'm sorry, Angel" he tried sending to her as he awaited the swift end . . . which, peculiarly, never came. Looking at the clone, Anakin was stunned to see a smoking hole in the middle of its chest. The man collapsed, to reveal a second soldier standing behind him. Anakin's eyes widened, as he instantly recognized the other's mannerisms and posture.

"704?" he asked, unbelievingly, in a whisper.

The soldier knelt and somehow, Anakin knew that he was smiling amusedly behind the white mask.

"Get up kid" he said, extending one hand. "The cavalry has arrived!"