My Unfortunate Fate

chapter 85

Thoughtfulness is essential to an intense love. 

I lead Anakin to the hangar, where my surprise is waiting. Now I know he's expecting something, but he has no idea what that is. 

I know he's worried about the Chancellor—he has less of a gleam in his eyes—however, he hardly seems affected by the upcoming battle. Anakin focuses on the present most of the time, except when he worries about the future or thinks back on the past. But when things are happening, when he's with me, he doesn't think about that. He lives in the moment. I love that, just as much as I love everything about him. 

"Generals Kenobi, Skywalker and y/l/n, and Commander Dume, report to the main hangar," Admiral Yularen's garbled voice announces on the intercom. 

It's funny: we were just headed in that direction. Before we enter the hangar bay, I tell Anakin to close his eyes. He does so happily, using the Force to navigate sightlessly through the hangar. 

When we get to our starfighters, I say, "You can look now." 

He does, and I make sure to watch his reaction. He makes an effort to be subtle, but his surprise is remarkable. 

Happy anniversary, I say through our connection in case anyone is listening. 

Anakin stares at his starfighter, painted green with white accents to match mine, for which the main body and accent colours are flipped. I asked Artoo to do this with some leftover paint the squad used for their helmets to pay tribute to Ahsoka. R2-D2 concealed the fighter once the paint dried, until now, of course, when we need it most. 

"Wow," is all he has to say at the sight of it. "How...when did you...?" 

"Artoo painted it yesterday. He was in a rush, so the lines are a bit sloppy, but..." I leave Anakin and eject Sixee from my fighter, laying a hand on his dome. "Ta-da!" 

R6-L3, clad in blue, white and yellow, also underwent a remodel to resemble R2-D2 and Anakin's starfighter, before it was repainted. 

"Three days on the cruiser and you paint everything," he jokes. 

"Hey, Artoo deserves most of the credit. He did the work, I just came up with the idea." 

Conveniently, R2-D2 comes out from behind a Y-wing and glides toward us. Anakin kneels beside the droid. "Thank you so much, buddy. I love you." 

I'm sure he means it when he says that. My husband loves R2-D2 and loves having him as a companion. But I'm just as sure that Artoo isn't the only person that statement is directed towards. I know because after he says it, he looks at me and smiles. Suddenly, I want to throw caution to the wind and kiss him in the middle of the hangar. The only thing holding me back is the thought of going into battle at any moment. 

Artoo whirrs and spins around, delighted by Anakin's praise. I can't help but smile. 

Footsteps rattle against the metal floor. I turn around to see Caleb waving and smiling at us. He's excited at the prospect of a space battle. I wonder how common that is for children in his age range. I'm sure some dream of becoming Jedi and defeating Sith and Separatists, but do they expect to be doing it that young? I mean, when I was young, I would do whatever I was told. I would've waged war, had it been asked of me. But would I grow to resent it as easily as I have now? 

"Hi, Master," he says, bowing his head. 

"Hello, Caleb," I reply. "Are you ready?" 

"I am—I mean, I kind of have to be." 

I press my lips together and nod, trying not to express my thoughts. I wish Caleb didn't need to be ready for battle. I wish he and others like him had the choice to leave the Order—or at least the resources. But he doesn't know his real family, and he probably never will. Furthermore, unlike Jedi Knights, padawans receive no compensation for fighting this war. They're entirely dependent on their masters. In hindsight, if a padawan or youngling wishes to leave the Order—although they are allowed—they usually can't. Ahsoka is an exception to this, but I doubt she found it easy to live without any reliable shelter, income, or food.