When You Come Home

-11-

The flames of the night had burned into the flames of the rising sun. Finally breaking over the horizon, the golden globe spread her hope across the smoking, broken terrain, shedding light over the tragedy and terrors of war. She sighed sadly at the destruction but did not turn her face from the suffering and sacrifice. She let her warmth and comfort be felt, filtering through the tattered leaves, charred branches, and gathering mist. It was a beautiful sight, although solemn and deserted, as though even the birds and scattered wildlife knew what had taken place there. But Anakin wasn't interested in the beauty or the tragedy. He only wanted to get away from this new girl who had decided they would become great friends.

"It was nice meeting you," he said, mustering all of his sincerity, "but I had better get back to my commander." He flashed an almost genuine smile, then retreated before she could ask for his number. Not that it would make much difference at the moment: soldiers were forbidden from taking phones to the battlefield.

Anakin had settled into his new lifestyle with surprising ease, cutting all ties with his past and moving forwards. Not long after he began training, he had changed his phone number, deleted his social media accounts, and started again. He had spent the rest of the time worrying that he had made the wrong decision. He hadn't heard anything from Rex or his father, and he knew nothing about Kitster. If they had tried contacting him, he had had no idea of it.

Anakin stepped into the circle of his brothers who had survived the battle, watching as Coric, the medic, flitted from person to person, the red cross on his shoulder stained red from the blood. His medical kit was permanently attached to his hand, but his face was relaxed. The 212th had come off lightly this time.

Anakin ducked his head down when he saw Coric's pop up: the medic had a habit of pinning him after a battle and forcing an examination on him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he actively avoided the medical tent. But then, he was sure the others needed help more. He would be fine.

"You did a good job last night, Anakin." Boil appeared beside Anakin, clapping him on the shoulder. "That was some quick thinking on your part; you saved a lot of lives."

Anakin tried to contain his flush of pride at the praise. "I'm just glad we kept Kashyyyk. The Wookie people have the best supply of fur and coats; we can't afford to lose that."

"Sure thing, nerd," Boil teased. "Sometimes, I think you're too good to be a soldier. You've got a head for numbers and statics, you're quick thinking, and you come up with the craziest plans that actually work. All that aside from the fact that you care so much about the 212th.  You'd make a fantastic commander."

"I'm only seventeen," Anakin countered, embarrassed by Boil's compliments. "Besides, if I took over the 212th, then we would have no Commander Cody and I'd be lost."

Boil's response was cut short by Coric surprise-attacking Anakin. The restraint that he mustered to stop himself from full-on tackling Anakin to the ground was commendable.

"Trooper," he said with a fake smile and an even greater amount of restraint, "you are required at the medical tent. Now." His tone left no question for argument. Anakin could almost hear the unspoken threat that Cody would be notified if he didn't comply. He followed the medic obediently.

Their temporary camp was a tight-knit group of tents, supply packs, and soldiers, located in a small clearing in the thick forested area of Kashyyyk. It was cozy, as far as camps went, and it certainly wasn't the worst place they had camped out in. The ever-raining country of Kamino, the boggy land of Dagobah, and the icy-cold area of Hoth were at the top of Anakin's least favourite places he had passed through or fought in. Here, they even had wild animals as company, with small bears and graceful gazelles roaming the outskirts, even peering at them occasionally. Birdsong drifted from the trees, and the soft chatter of the Wookie people with the troops' commanders filled the air. The Wookies, known for their thick fir coats and unique crossbows, had good relations with the Republic, and their gratitude for the soldiers' efforts was tangible.