The Varactyl Squadron Commander (A Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Forty

JC couldn't explain the events taking place in front of her as she and the two other clones followed the shell of Anakin Skywalker containing...what? Containing what? The droid couldn't compute the situation fully since it just didn't make any sense.

Yes, Twar was rich with mythology and legends regarding the matriarch witches and the levels of their powers, but possession hadn't been high on the list of realistic topics regarding the Twaran culture. In fact, it had been one of the closest things to the bottom, hiding in the depths alongside their cannibalistic beliefs. No matter what these lunatics thought, gaining youth and power from the flesh of your enemies just wasn't true. Science proved it wrong.

And yet, here was Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, walking down this dimly-lit hallway in a way that seemed too light on his toes, too breathless. As if he didn't need to breathe air at all; he was the air.

With each step he took, his head held high and his arms flowing gracefully at his sides, he seemed to disappear from his former identity and take hold of an entity with no similarities to his own. He was still living, breathing, existing right along with the rest of the Republic spies. Her sensors and circuits and internal computers all came to the same obvious conclusion, that the Jedi master hadn't changed physically and his brain was still in good shape.

But it wasn't...it wasn't him.

And there was no technical diagnosis she could give that would accurately represent the psychological shift in the man's state of being. Maybe if she did some research-

"I can hear you, y'know."

The sound of not-Anakin's voice struck her sound-servos like metal grinding on metal and the corners of her vision were beginning to pixelate with each word he spoke. Hear her? JC's fellow spies exchanged glances of confusion, an act that would seem nearly normal in the presence of this...abnormal being. To remain as unoffensive as possible, they didn't bother replying to her statement.

"You're lucky I've decided to take that as a compliment." Not-Anakin flipped a loose lock of hair to the side with the tip of his fingers. "The only information you'll find on my history is words of my power, my poise, and- most importantly-" He spun around so fast that the clones could almost feel the whip-lash in their own necks and he slid a slow, sultry palm down his cheek, face, and neck. "My beauty."

The spies couldn't decide if they should laugh at the general's actions or feel extremely uncomfortable by how seductive he was trying to be in front of two straight men and a robot.

"O-of course," JC dared to voice. The somewhat-delusional jedi just scowled and turned back around before briskly picking up the pace of his walk.

They'd been walking for what felt like hours before the group of four finally reached a corridor with a pair of wooden doors at the end. Though the two slabs of wood had similar vine-like carvings as the doors of Molindi's room, they were nowhere near as large and intimidating as the ones before. If Anakin truly knew his way through the maze that made up the Twaran palace, then they'd finally made it- the plans for the new battle droids the Separatists would use to destroy the clone army were within reach. This nightmare was almost coming to an end; in a matter of hours, the clones and their people would be on their way to safety.

"And here we are, the place your pitiful hearts' desires."

As they approached, Anakin stopped a meter or two away from the entrance and sent an icy glare to the people behind him, clearing his throat as he clasped his hands behind his back impatiently.

"They aren't going to open themselves, peasants."

Their hands had barely grazed the doors' knobs when a monstrous sound echoed in the distance and Not-Anakin genuinely grinned for the first time, clapping giddily and letting out a shrill little laugh that nearly wiped out JC's vision entirely.

"Oh goody! My pet has finally been fed!"

*****

As if she were a mere fly, the gorog reached back and smacked his hand at the nuisance crawling up his neck, almost crushing her in the process as the beast wrapped its fingers around her limp body and brought her before its eyes. Gaze transfixed on the pest in his grasp, the monster inhaled deeply before letting out the loudest roar any living thing on the planet had ever heard. The sound 

The crowd became deathly silent; Axel and Rex both could feel their hearts stop in their chests and their stomachs sink.

"Commander!" Axel almost shrieked in fear before the duo bolted into action.

They were too far, way too far, and both Axel and Rex knew it. By the time they would reach the gorog's body, it will have devoured their fellow soldier in a single gulp. Saying that they stood a chance was pointless, but they had no idea what else to do. There was nothing else to do. In a split second, what had once been a near victory had turned into even more of a nightmare than it had been before.

It felt as if time was passing by in slow motion. One step after the other, all eyes on the beast's prey as it opened its mouth wide once more and began to lift Molindi's body higher into the air, straight above its gaping maw. 

For the first time in months, in years, Axel felt an energy surge through his chest, all the way from his heart to his fingers, from his head, down his back and into his toes. Any other person would've called it adrenaline, but Axel knew better. It wasn't adrenaline-

It was the need to protect someone he hadn't believed he cared about until now.

It was the realization that someone who loved the people he called his family was knocking on death's door, and all he'd ever done was make her job difficult ever since the day he walked into her life and she walked into his.

It was remorse.

Complete, true, unadulterated remorse.

*****

"No! No! No!" Queen Asemdi's voice bellowed in terror at the sight of her child in the monster's clutches and the crowd followed suit. If there was anything to be done, the woman would have taken that step ages ago. But interfering with the outcome of a sacred battle was treason; it was against their gods and everything they believed in. If she interfered, her bloodline would be dethroned and her daughters would be outcast after Asemdi herself was put to death. All she could do was scream in fear.

Despite the frenzy occurring below, the triplets were silent as the dead at their mother's side. A shared look of determination was all they needed to realize what needed to be done. They knew what was happening and they knew the repercussions of what would happen next, but they didn't care. The three didn't care about what the consequences were.

What they truly cared about was the life of their sister. And that was all that mattered.

It was in that moment that the gorog released the woman's body and her small, delicate form began to fall, down, down, down towards the jaws of death.

It was in that moment that the three princesses stepped out into the open for the stadium to see, reached out their hands, used every ounce of their powers they could muster, and became traitors of Twar.