My Unfortunate Fate

chapter 88

Tolerance is not on par with acceptance. 

"Sixee, do you copy?" I repeat, hoping my droid hasn't been dismantled. 

While we wait for a response, Anakin and I brainstorm. "We need to move quickly but not draw attention to ourselves," I say. "So we shouldn't move until we know where we're going." 

"But doesn't that defeat the purpose of moving quickly?" Anakin retorts. 

"If we leave right now and go in the wrong direction, it will take longer." 

He takes a moment to deliberate on my reply, then nods. "We need to figure out where we're going." 

"Right, but how are we supposed to do that?" 

"Well...if you were Grievous and you were escorting three prisoners somewhere you could hold them, where would you bring them?" 

"The brig?" I wonder. "No way. That's too obvious, and he won't get to keep an eye on them." 

I think. If I were General Grievous, where would I be? The hangar, perhaps? No, the hangar is far too open. Maybe the observation deck? Not there either, it's wrecked and, again, too obvious. The armoury is a no-go: it would give Obi-Wan, Palpatine and troublesome Artoo too many ways to arm themselves. An unmarked room is also unlikely as he needs to deliver the Chancellor to Count Dooku...Nevermind. But he might want to make a quick escape... 

"Do you remember where the escape pods were located?" I ask. 

"I think they were near the bridge. Why do you...?" Anakin stops mid-sentence, his lips frozen in a pout as the realisation hits. "The bridge!" we exclaim, laughing off our impromptu coordination after the fact. 

"We're geniuses," I affirm, nudging my husband's arm while smiling teasingly. 

"Damn straight," he agrees. His genuine smile is so gorgeous I want to kiss him, but I won't. Not until we finish this mission. Not until we leave the Order. I won't kiss him in public until we're safe. 

We dart into the hallway and Anakin lets me lead, seeing as I cannot run as fast as I usually can. He does not want to outpace me. A beep comes through on my comlink. "Sixee? We're moving towards Obi-Wan and the Chancellor's position. Meet us at the bridge." 

My droid whines, blessed with Artoo's affinity for disliking orders. Of course, Sixee will comply, but I will not be hearing the last of this soon. He says something along the lines of, "Why don't you just tell me where to go before you need me?" 

I shake my head and tap into the Force, trying to identify Obi-Wan's Force signature. The link between us remains silent until it comes rushing in, invading my perception like through an open window. A gust of wind blows over my head, lifting a strand of my hair slightly. Up. I lick the tip of my index and hold it out. The wind blows in the direction we are facing. 

"We're on the right track," I announce, leading us forward. "But we have to go up. Do you think there's a way other than..." 

"The elevator?" Anakin finishes. "Not likely. The bridge seems pretty far up—" 

He grabs my arm and pulls me back, forcing us against a wall, and then places a finger on my lips. I push it away, mouthing, I know. 

Grievous' guards have found us. This feels familiar, I communicate through our dyad. I sneak my hand between our pressed-together bodies, threateningly hovering it over his cheek. My husband bites his lip and tries to look away to keep from laughing, but his eyes linger on me and his smile remains. When I widen my eyes in warning, he closes his eyes, still with a tight-lipped smile, and lets out a wheeze. I shove my hand on his mouth, leaving a tiny space beneath his nose so he can breathe. Let's get out of here, I suggest. Before you explode.