When You Come Home

-20-

"Good work, team; that's the last of them!" Anakin called out to his men, watching as the final Sith troops retreated from the area. "For the Republic!"

The cheerful sun beamed down from a clear sky as a chorus of delighted whooping and hollering rose to meet Anakin. He cast his eyes around in a slow circle as the men patted each other on the back, pumped the air, and joked together. They were all smiling, happy, relaxed. It made a welcome change from the month of hardship, loss, and defeat they had faced. It had seemed that no matter how many troops Cody and Appo had stationed or organised, the Sith matched them double. Their tactics were sharp, their forces impenetrable, and their resolve unshaken. Anakin's men had nearly been driven from Mandalore too many times. He was beginning to wonder what Bo-Katan had been intending to do if the Republic hadn't been sent to help. There still remained the question of why the Republic was sent here in the first place, if Bo-Katan had not requested their aid. Was it Premier Palpatine's specific wish, or had it been an insider from Mandalore? If so, who? Or, perhaps more importantly, why?

"Well done, Captain," Cody brought Anakin from his thoughts with a clap on his shoulder. "You handled that battle like a pro."

He saluted Cody. "I learned from the best, Commander."

Cody smiled, a genuine one, the one that softened his eyes and crinkled the scar around his face. The rare one. The proud one. He hesitated a moment, mouth parting as words formed on his tongue. But before he could decide how to speak his unspoken words, Boil approached them.

"Sir, there's someone to see you, sir," he addressed Cody with a crisp salute. "He's one of the Duchess' messengers."

The young boy bowed respectfully to Cody, but his mouth quirked in the precursor to a sneer. "You and your troops are," he paused a moment as though to find the precise word, "cordially invited to a great feast by Duchess Bo-Katan herself, to celebrate victory at last. It will take place in the banquet hall of Sundari at 1900 tonight."

Anakin exchanged glances with Cody, surprised by the invitation. "I didn't realize the Duchess was so impressed with our work."

"I'm not sure that she is," Cody leaned in to mutter before flashing the messenger a thin smile. "We appreciate the Duchess's most gracious offer; all of my men who are able will certainly be present at the expected time."

He bowed again. "The Duchess would have expected nothing less." Then he strutted off.

Anakin looked at Cody. "Do we have to go? It'll be nothing but pomp and decorum, with over-expensive food that should be going to the people who need it."

Cody smirked. "Don't worry, kid; you won't be bored. I think you'll find the Duchess rather entertaining."

He half-smiled in sympathetic amusement. Whatever did Cody mean? But even as they turned to notify their men, Anakin noticed a few clouds gathering on the horizon. Perhaps it would rain after all.

But he did not stop to ponder the weather, scouring through the two troops, helping with the injured, searching for the missing, and encouraging the downcast. This was one of Anakin's favourite parts of a battle. Seeing the faces of the boys lighting up as he approached them, listening to their daring or hilarious tales, and offering to help with whatever they needed did him more good than scoring a victory. These men were his brothers, and he would live and die protecting them.

The sky had fully clouded over by the time darkness had fallen. Not a star was to be seen. But the rain had not yet appeared, so at least they would not get wet on the short trek to Sundari Palace. The boys squirmed in freshly-cleaned, mostly-presentable clothes, tugging at the colours and sliding their fingers around the heels of their shoes. As well as the invite, the Duchess had provided semi-decent attire for the soldiers who wore nothing other than camos. Some were thrilled; others were not. Ahsoka was one of the thrilled ones.