The Cost of War

The humid air of Hissrich clung to their robes like a second skin, heavy with the scent of damp moss and the metallic tang of an impending storm. High above the canopy, the Separatist blockade loomed, but on the ground, the war was fought in the shadows of towering ferns and jagged rock formations.

"The intelligence is clear," Mace Windu said, his voice a low rumble that commanded immediate attention. He deactivated his holoprojector, the blue flicker of the Separatist outpost fading from his palm. "Grievous has established a command center in the subterranean levels of the old mining facility. If we strike now, we decapitate the Droid Army's leadership in this sector."

Obi-Wan Kenobi stroked his beard, his eyes narrowed in thought. "A frontal assault would be suicide. The facility is guarded by a battalion of commando droids and the General’s personal bodyguards. We need to divide their attention."

"Agreed," Depa Billaba said, her expression serene despite the gravity of their situation. She stood beside her former Master, a pillar of calm. "A pincer movement. Two teams, approaching from the north and south ventilation shafts. We can disable the ray shields simultaneously."

Mace nodded. "Kenobi, you’re with me. Skywalker, you will accompany Master Billaba. We move quietly. This is a mission of precision, not spectacle."

Anakin Skywalker shifted his weight, his mechanical hand creaking slightly as he flexed it. "A distraction might serve us better, Master Windu. If I lead a charge at the main gate, you three could slip in undetected."

"Your penchant for 'spectacle' is exactly why you are staying with Depa," Mace countered, his gaze sharp. "Follow her lead, Skywalker. Her patience is a virtue you would do well to emulate."

Anakin’s jaw tightened, but he offered a shallow bow. "As you wish, Master."

The groups split. As Anakin and Depa navigated the dense undergrowth toward the northern shaft, the silence between them was punctuated only by the distant hum of vulture droids patrolling the skies. Depa moved with a fluid grace, her connection to the Force like a steady hum. Anakin, by contrast, was a storm held behind a dam—radiating restless energy.

"You disagree with the Council’s caution," Depa stated softly, not looking back.

"I think we spend too much time planning and not enough time winning," Anakin replied, hacking through a thick vine with his lightsaber. "Grievous is here. Every minute we wait is a minute he has to escape or execute more prisoners."

"Victory without discipline is a hollow gain, Anakin," she cautioned. "Wait. Do you feel that?"

They reached the crest of a ridge overlooking the mining facility. Below, the sprawling metal complex was a hive of activity. Suddenly, the main hangar doors hissed open. A familiar, hunched silhouette emerged, flanked by only four IG-100 MagnaGuards.

"Grievous," Anakin whispered, his eyes lighting up. "He’s exposed. He’s heading for a shuttle."

Depa held up a hand. "It’s too easy. He should have a full escort. We must wait for Mace and Obi-Wan to reach their positions."

"By then he’ll be in hyperspace!" Anakin hissed. "Depa, look at the shuttle’s engines—they’re already warming up. This is our chance to end the war right here. If we take him, the droids will fall into chaos."

"Anakin, no. It’s a deviation from the plan. We don't know what's inside that hangar."

"I do. A coward trying to run." Anakin didn't wait for her consent. He vaulted over the ridge, his sapphire blade igniting before he even hit the ground.

"Anakin!" Depa shouted, her composure breaking into a mask of dread. She had no choice but to follow.

Anakin tore through the MagnaGuards like a whirlwind. His strikes were fueled by a desperate need for a decisive end to the bloodshed. He reached the General, his blade clashing against Grievous’s electrostaff.

"Skywalker," the cyborg wheezed, a mechanical chuckle vibrating in his chest. "I was wondering if you could resist the bait."

From the shadows of the hangar, dozens of hidden panels slid open. Droidekas rolled out, unfolding and snapping their shields into place instantly. Red twin-lasers began to stitch a pattern of death across the floor.

"It's a trap!" Depa yelled, leaping into the fray. She landed between Anakin and a line of droids, her dual lightsabers spinning in a defensive blur. "We have to retreat, now!"

"I almost have him!" Anakin roared, lunging at Grievous.

Grievous laughed, his four arms unfolding, four lightsabers spinning like buzzsaws. He pushed Anakin back with a flurry of strikes that required every ounce of the younger man's concentration. Meanwhile, the Droidekas closed the circle.

A stray bolt clipped Anakin’s shoulder, spinning him around. Grievous seized the opening, raising two blades for a killing blow.

"No!" Depa threw herself forward, using the Force to shove Anakin out of the path of the strike.

The General’s blades hissed through the air. Depa blocked one, but the second sliced deep through her side, and a third found her shoulder. She collapsed with a stifled cry, her lightsabers clattering to the floor.

"Depa!" Anakin’s voice cracked. The sight of her fallen form snapped the red haze of his bravado. He unleashed a massive Force wave that sent the nearby droids reeling and created a momentary clearing.

He scooped up Depa’s unconscious body, his heart hammering against his ribs. Using the Force to augment his leap, he fled the hangar just as Mace and Obi-Wan arrived from the southern flank, alerted by the sounds of battle.

"Fall back! Fall back to the extraction point!" Obi-Wan shouted, his blue blade deflective a barrage of fire as he covered their retreat.

They found refuge in a derelict stone hut several kilometers from the facility. The storm had finally broken, and rain lashed against the crumbling walls. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of burnt ozone and ozone.

Mace Windu knelt by Depa, his hands hovering over her wounds as he used the Force to stabilize her. His face was a mask of cold, controlled fury. He didn't look up when Anakin paced near the door, his cloak drenched and his head bowed.

"Her breathing is shallow," Mace said, his voice dangerously quiet. "The internal damage is extensive."

"I... I thought I could take him," Anakin stammered, his mechanical hand trembling. "I saw an opening."

Mace stood up slowly. The height difference between them seemed to magnify as the Council member turned to face the younger man. "You didn't see an opening, Skywalker. You saw a reflection of your own arrogance. You were given a direct order to remain with Master Billaba and follow her lead."

"The war could have ended today!" Anakin shouted back, his frustration boiling over. "If I had been just a second faster—"

"If you had been a second faster, you would both be dead," Mace interrupted, his voice rising. "Your recklessness has nearly cost this Order one of its finest masters. You are a liability, Anakin. You play at being a hero while others bleed for your mistakes."

"That's enough, Mace," Obi-Wan said softly, stepping between them. He looked exhausted, his robes singed. "Recriminations won't heal Depa."

"He needs to understand the weight of his failure, Kenobi!" Mace stepped closer to Anakin, his eyes burning. "You think the Force serves you? You think your 'destiny' excuses your disobedience?"

Anakin’s eyes flashed with a dangerous, golden-yellow tint in the shadows. "I do what needs to be done. While you sit on the Council and meditate, I’m the one on the front lines!"

"And look where your 'work' has brought us," Mace gestured to the bleeding woman on the floor.

The sound of clanking metal echoed outside. The droids were searching the perimeter. Grievous’s voice carried through the wind, mocking and cold. "Search every stone! Bring me their heads!"

Anakin looked at the door, then at Depa, then at Mace. A dark, pragmatic thought crossed his mind—a thought born of desperation.

"They’re closing in," Anakin said, his voice suddenly flat. "We can't carry her and fight off a battalion. Not if we want to stop Grievous from leaving the planet. If we... if we leave her here, hidden, we can draw them away. We can finish the mission."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Mace Windu’s expression shifted from anger to a look of profound disgust. "You are suggesting we abandon a comrade? Your fellow Jedi?"

"I'm suggesting we win the war!" Anakin snapped. "If we stay here, we all die, and Grievous wins. If we use her as a lure—or just leave her behind—we can circle back and—"

Mace didn't let him finish. He moved with a speed that blurred the vision, grabbing Anakin by the tunic and slamming him against the stone wall. "Is that what you are, Skywalker? A butcher? You would sacrifice the woman who just took a blade for you because it's 'tactically sound'?"

"Let go of me," Anakin hissed, his hand moving toward his lightsaber.

"Mace, stop!" Obi-Wan cried, grabbing Windu’s arm. "Anakin, think about what you’re saying! You’re speaking out of fear!"

"I'm speaking out of logic!" Anakin yelled, though his voice wavered.

"There is no logic in abandoning our soul," Mace said, his face inches from Anakin’s. "You have a darkness in you, boy. I have seen it, and I have tolerated it for the sake of the prophecy. But after today, I will see to it that you never lead another soul into battle. You are no Master. You are barely a Jedi."

Mace pushed him away with a shove of pure Force. Anakin stumbled back, his face contorted in a mixture of shame and burning resentment. The bridge between them, already fragile, didn't just crack—it shattered.

"The droids are here," Obi-Wan said, his blade igniting. "We stand together. No one is left behind. Is that understood?"

Anakin didn't answer. He simply ignited his own blade, the blue light casting long, jagged shadows against the wall.

The battle that followed was a blur of desperation. They fought in the cramped doorway of the hut, a wall of lightsaber energy against an endless tide of metal. Mace fought with a ferocity that was terrifying to behold, his Vaapad style turning the droids' own aggression against them. Anakin fought with a cold, detached efficiency, his mind a whirlwind of Mace’s insults and Depa’s pale face.

Just as the last of their strength seemed to wane, a familiar hum vibrated through the air. The clouds parted as a Republic Laat/i gunship descended, its turrets screaming as they tore through the droid ranks.

"Reinforcements!" Obi-Wan yelled over the roar of the engines.

From the hold of the lead gunship, a small, green figure somersaulted through the air, his cane replaced by a blur of emerald light. Master Yoda landed in the mud, his presence immediately calming the storm of the Force.

"Late, we are. Regret this, I do," Yoda said, his ears drooping as he took in the scene.

Behind him, Commander Ponds and a battalion of clone troopers swarmed the clearing, establishing a perimeter. Medics rushed into the hut with a hovering gurney.

The journey back to Coruscant was silent. The Jedi Temple’s spires reached up toward the twilight sky, but for the four who returned, the sanctuary felt cold.

Depa Billaba was rushed to the Halls of Healing. Mace Windu walked beside her gurney, his hand never leaving the side of the bed until the doors hissed shut behind him. He didn't look back at Anakin once.

Anakin stood in the center of the hangar bay, his robes still stained with Hissrich’s mud and Depa’s blood. Obi-Wan stood a few paces away, looking at his former apprentice with a profound sense of sadness.

"She will live, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly.

"Master Windu wants me expelled," Anakin said, his voice hollow.

"He is angry. He cares for Depa as I care for you." Obi-Wan stepped closer, trying to catch Anakin’s eye. "But what you said in that hut... you didn't mean it. Tell me you didn't mean it."

Anakin looked up. For a moment, the vulnerability of the boy from Tatooine was there, trembling behind his blue eyes. But then, he thought of Mace’s hand at his throat, the judgment in the Council’s eyes, and the feeling of being held back when he was the only one with the strength to act.

"I meant that we have to win, Master," Anakin said, his voice hardening. "Whatever the cost."

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty hangar. Obi-Wan watched him go, a cold shiver running down his spine. The mission had been a success in the eyes of the Republic—Grievous’s base was destroyed—but as he looked at the retreating back of the Chosen One, Obi-Wan knew they had lost something far more valuable than a battle.

The rift had opened. And in the silence of the Temple, the shadows began to grow.