The following events take place seven standard months before the end of THE CLONE WARS.
Wasteful.
That’s exactly what this mission was to Anakin Skywalker. A waste of everything. His time. His skills. His energy. Quite why a Republic Carrier couldn’t do this job was beyond him. But still, he did as he was instructed.
Truth be told, he was a little tired and he didn’t have the energy this morning to argue with Master Mundi. If the Holonet could see him, they’d have a field day. The great hero of the Clone Wars – General Anakin Skywalker – was tired and irritable. He looked exhausted. Still, he was Anakin Skywalker and there was work to do. The transmission that came through an hour ago was standard enough. A container of resources for Republic Refugees was being offered, at no cost, by a facility on Mapuzo. Food, water and medical supplies were said to have been collected over six months and were being offered to the Republic because it was simply, as they put it, the right thing to do.
Ki-Adi Mundi, however, had sensed something off about the message. It was faint, he had said, but still there. A glimmer that something just wasn’t quite right. Quite honestly, Anakin was too tired to argue about it. He was close enough to Mapuzo and if he had his way about it then it wouldn’t take long to inspect the shipment and be on his way back to Padmé.
That’s if she was able to see him. Their timings had been so off lately he couldn’t remember the last time he had properly spoken to her.
Then the pang of heartache he hadn’t expected but carried with him. He missed Snips. Glimpses of her face filled his mind. For a moment, he wasn’t so tired. He remained in his thoughts until the scanners on his ship pulled him out of his lull.
They were coming up on Mapuzo.
“This shouldn’t take long Artoo,” Anakin chirped. The droid responded and Anakin let out a laugh. “You need a shut down? I need a good sleep.” The droid whistled and whirled again. “Fine, you have my word. Threepio doesn’t need to know you’re back right away. Have some time to yourself, buddy.”
As they entered the atmosphere Anakin felt something shiver in the Force. Was that what Master Mundi had felt too? It was gone before he really had time to acknowledge it. His ship found the coordinates and Anakin powered down his starfighter. He hoped he hadn’t lied to Artoo. He really needed this to not take long at all.
Still, he closed his eyes and the Force rippled through his body. It energized him. It fuelled him. It made him who he was. Well, Padmé made him who he was, but the Force was undeniable.
He instructed Artoo to stay with the ship and Anakin made his way to the location that Master Mundi had sent him. He gazed at the space in front of him.
There was no denying it. Master Mundi’s instincts had been correct. There was no facility or factory here. Nothing that would contain a vast number of urgent supplies needed. They had been duped. The only thing to left of the given coordinates was a small shack and behind that a ploughing field with whittled crops.
Anakin sighed. “Master Mundi right again.” He smirked to himself. “Is he ever wrong?”
Still, it didn’t hurt to check out what was really going on. The transmission had been sent through official channels. The Council would want a full report, as they always did, so for the sake of a few moments Anakin decided to head up to the shack and see if anyone there might know what had happened.
Anakin knocked on the wooden door.
“Yes?” came a voice from inside.
Anakin raised his voice a little in the hopes of being heard through the door.
“I’m here as a representative of the Republic. We received word of a shipment of supplies much needed for refugees. These were the coordinates I was given.”
Anakin heard fumbling behind the door. He lowered the hood of his Jedi robe. Something about the situation made him tense. The door creaked open to reveal a human male. He looked older than his years with a straggled beard and very few of his own teeth left. Anakin noticed a tremor in his hands.
“Please, come in,” the human said. “I am so glad you arrived and that we are able to help.”
Anakin couldn’t hide his puzzlement. “You sent the message to the Republic?”
“I did indeed. So happy to help in these times of war. Forgive me, my name is Glenmur Trenbeck and if you’ll just wait a few moments then I will have the supplies mentioned.”
Trenbeck limped his way through a door into what Anakin presumed was the cooking area of the home. Because that’s what this was – a home. He heard the male fumbling around in the back room. Anakin knew the man couldn’t be a physical threat.
Perhaps he had a box or two of supplies and had wanted to help so badly he simply exaggerated his charitable efforts. Very quietly, from another room, Anakin heard a thump. It didn’t take much for him to feel a disturbance in the Force along with it. He thumbed his lightsaber under his robe. He tensed and faced the door.
Trenbeck came bursting through with a blaster pointed directly at Anakin’s head. In return, the Jedi Knight activated his weapon, and a brilliant sky-blue blade illuminated the ramshackle home.
“Hands up, Jedi,” cried Trenbeck. “Put down the weapon.”
Anakin did no such thing. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”
“You’ve played into my hand,” croaked the man. “I knew it had to be something big to get a Jedi here. Ex-Separatist engineer sold me the commline to the Republic and I knew they’d send a Jedi if I told them I had supplies.”
“So…the plan was to get a Jedi here?!” Anakin couldn’t hide his confusion. Nothing about it made any sense. What was this man’s plan?
“Yes. Get a Jedi here. Take them hostage and wait for payment from the Republic. While you’ve all been fighting a war, we’ve been forgotten. The everyday people of the galaxy. We’ve been left behind while all the bloodshed plays out on the grand stage. You don’t care about us, do you?”
Anakin felt this man was desperate but of no real threat. He could easily disarm Trenbeck without even looking. He’d get the blaster, talk him down and be on his way. There was no reason to report this back to the Council. This man had clearly been pushed to the edge by no means of his own.
“So,” Trenbeck gleaned. “Which Jedi has come to me?”
“Anakin Skywalker.”
With that the side door barged open, and a young boy ran into the main room.
“Anakin Skywalker! You’re Anakin Skywalker!”
“Son, get back in there with your mother,” scowled Trenbeck. “I told you not to come out!”
Anakin kept his blade raised towards Trenbeck but turned to face the boy. He could be no more than eight years old and looked as if he hadn’t eaten in a few days. His skin was dirty and his eyes swollen.
Anakin grimaced. “This is becoming far more complicated than it needs to be. Put the blaster down and we can end this.”
The boy looked up at Anakin. “I heard about you. I know your name. Skywalker. The other boys at the food hall say it. They say you’re a great warrior.”
The boy reminded Anakin of himself when he was that age. For a moment, he saw his mother, Shmi. He felt rage and sadness and guilt in a sudden curdle of his blood. He snapped the image away.
A woman came from the back room. She grabbed the boy by the shoulders and looked just as starved as the boy did.
“Get him back in there will you!” barked Trenbeck. “I’m dealing with this.”
The woman didn’t look up. She simply kept her eyes to the floor and fumbled to try and get the boy back through the door. Then, Anakin noticed something he hadn’t before. Bruises. Old and new on both the mother and the boy. Anakin knew the rage that burned in his heart. He turned to Trenbeck.
“Did you hurt them? Where did they get those bruises?” He kept his focus on Trenbeck, who was now trembling.
“Don’t worry about that, Jedi. Just focus on surrendering.”
“As a Jedi it’s my job to worry about such things. And as a Jedi…I won’t be surrendering.”
With his left hand concealed underneath the sleeve of his robe Anakin raised his forefinger and on the table at the far side of the room, a candle dropped to the floor. The wax poured out and in a flash the flames erupted. The flames caught fire in the main living area and quickly spread. Trenbeck fumbled to run to the door. Anakin deactivated his lightsaber and picked up the boy.
“Quick. Go for the door,” he cried at the mother.
The mother ran as fast as she could but was thrown back to the ground by Trenbeck. Anakin used the Force to swing a chair at Trenbeck’s legs and knock him to the ground. Anakin picked up the boy’s mother and made it to the door carrying both parent and child and leaving Trenbeck behind. The fire engulfed the house at rapid speed. Anakin placed both mother and son gently on the grass.
The broken woman began to weep.
“He wasn’t always like this. He was a good man. But now…”
“Did he do this? To the both of you? Did he?”
She simply wept more. Anakin could sense a thousand breaking heart’s inside of her. The fear she had for the man who was her husband and the guilt that she couldn’t protect her only child.
Anakin felt the rage. He felt the urge to protect. He felt the need to do right by these people and save them.
“Run. Run and don’t look back. Take these credits and head for the main village. Go and get help.”
The mother and son did as they were instructed. Anakin turned to the fire before him. His mind whirled at speed. There was no time to think. The mother and son needed saving from a man who was clearly a monster. Inside, he could see Trenbeck running for the door.
With a slight of hand of the Force, Anakin Skywalker locked the door on the inside and trapped Trenbeck with the fire around him. He didn’t wait to hear the cries. He didn’t wait to see the fire burn everything to the ground.
And then, it was over.
Just stillness in the Force.
Anakin Skywalker felt that he had done the right thing. He had saved a young boy and his mother from years of torture. Anakin Skywalker knew what it was like to live a life tortured, and he didn’t want that for any other being in the galaxy. He knew the Force had sent him here. He knew he had been sent here to save a mother and her boy.
Anakin put the hood of his robe back up and walked away from the blazing inferno.
Anakin was quiet and solemn when he returned to his starfighter. Artoo offered a beep in question.
“It was nothing Artoo. A wild Bantha chase.”
Artoo beeped again.
“The fire? Well, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather not tell Master Obi-Wan about it.”
Anakin fired up his starfighter and set his coordinates for Coruscant. Behind him, very quietly and almost to himself, Artoo-Detoo sighed. He didn’t know what had happened, but it was becoming more frequent to keep things from Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Artoo-Detoo did not like that at all. The astromech had developed a keen sense of human behaviour. He had also grown deeply attached to Master Skywalker, so he knew at this moment that something was very, very wrong.
