ANAKIN SKYWALKER

About ten minutes later, Anakin was lying in the grass on a ridge near Temple Mountain. He was monitoring the Storm Troopers’ progress in their march towards the New Jedi Temple using a pair of micro-binoculars. He had stashed his speeder on the other side of the hill.

“What are you bucket heads up to?” he asked aloud. Fortunately, he was too high up for his words to be heard by anyone. For the time being, he was safe.

He focused the binoculars to better see the helmets and armor of the approaching legion. Or… wait. There were too many of them to be a full legion. Had they sent two?

“Not good. Not good at all,” Anakin muttered. He knew that he would have to report back to Ahsoka immediately.

Report back to his own padawan. He almost chuckled. It was ironic how he had been her Master, and now she was the one giving orders to him!

She really had grown up.

Putting the hood of his poncho back on, he turned around and proceeded to army-crawl to the other side of the ridge. He was just about to get back on his speeder when…

Blinding white pain suddenly blossomed in his back.

“ARGHHH!!” Anakin yelled, and slumped down. Dark spots flashed before his eyes. He managed, crying out in pain, to turn around. The last thing he managed to catch with his blurry eyesight was five or six – he couldn’t tell exactly – Storm Troopers lined up with their blasters at the ready.

It felt like he was going to die. The first time, it had been in fire. Now, it was in ice, because he could feel a beautiful, light, fluffy snow beginning to fall.

He suddenly remembered an old poem he had found in the Archives as a padawan once, stuffed into a crack in the wall. It had been written on paper, really, really old paper. No one used paper on Coruscant anymore, or had for a thousand years. He didn’t know where it was from or who had written it, but having pored over the little scrap of paper for hours and hours, he remembered the words.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

As he got colder and colder, the words really sank in. The Chosen One has perished twice, he thought, making up a rhyme of his own. In fire, and in ice.

The last thing he heard were blaster shots ringing in the air, before the darkness closed in.

*I HOPE YOU ALL HEARD "A Thousand Years" BY CHRISTINA PERRI IN THE BACKGROUND WHEN YOU READ THIS!!! I love that song... not necessarily Twilight, but that song...

The poem is by Robert Frost. And sorry this chapter is short, but I didn't really want to make it any longer!

Beat Mace WIndu in a sparring match and may the Force be with you,

Sharron