My Unfortunate Fate

chapter 87

Fear and courage are not mutually exclusive.

Someone is calling my name. Light drowns me. Someone is moving on top of me.

Where am I? I'm rescuing the Chancellor. I'm fighting Count Dooku. I even see him, but it isn't him. I see Count Dooku's body, lying on his side, his head in his lap. His back and neck are straight, away from it.

"Y/n, you okay?" a profoundly comforting voice asks.

I want to tell him that no, I'm not okay, I've just been crushed and rendered unconscious and seen a decapitated corpse. But for the sake of the mission, I nod. The man I love holds my forearms and helps me stand, but I cannot stop staring at that corpse. What happened? Why isn't the Chancellor in his chair anymore? Where is Obi-Wan?

Anakin hugs me, although my questions are left unanswered. "You're okay," he murmurs.

Where is Chancellor Palpatine? Where is Obi-Wan? Where is my sanity?

"Palpatine is waiting by the elevators. I just wanted a moment alone with you."

Anakin nuzzles my hair, and in a few seconds, I accept the hug and return it. The off-putting thing is how unexpected this is. I miss feeling loved when I need it, not just when we're alone. Our new life, free of restriction and no longer loving, laughing and dancing with our hands tied, will allow for that.

We pull away and get back on task. "Where's Obi-Wan?" I ask, glancing around the observation deck.

"Here," Anakin says, stepping up to the fallen platform, now on the ground floor. This must have crushed me. And apparently, Obi-Wan too. Most of his legs are beneath the platform, which must weigh a few tons. I hope he won't require amputation.

Anakin grabs one of his shoulders, and I take charge of his other side. Once we pull his body out from underneath the platform, Anakin hoists him over his shoulder and heads for the intact set of stairs. I do the same, disoriented. We should have made a plan.

As we make our way to the lifts, the ship rocks vigorously. It slowly tilts on its side, giving us a moment to grab hold of the open elevator shaft door. I won't look down. I refuse to. If I do, I will make myself sick.

On top of carrying Obi-Wan, Anakin hoists the Chancellor into the shaft—which now functions as a very long corridor leading us back to the hangar. Conveniently, the Separatists design their artificial gravity generators so poorly that they don't adjust to the ship's orientation. I pull my body up, into the makeshift hallway. Anakin and I don't take a second to look at each other, we just run. We have no idea when the ship might rotate to its initial position. Best not to waste time.

Thanks to the adrenaline pumped through my veins by fear, I don't get tired, although I haven't run like this in a long time. Since the pregnancy, I've been pacing myself: run for an attainable goal, like two minutes, then take a break. But that simply is not an option.

Suddenly, the Invisible Hand starts to turn. I lose my footing and grab the first thing I see: Anakin's outstretched hand. Luckily, he managed to hold on to a set of wires on the wall. Unluckily for him, Palpatine clings to his leg like leaves on a branch. The fact that my husband can support not only his weight, but the weight of three other people with just one arm is insanely impressive, however, I can see the struggle on his face.

Cautiously, I dock my feet on a tiny ledge and grab another set of wires with my left hand, then let go of Anakin's and secure my grip with both hands. My foot slips, but I catch myself, though I feel terrified. I'm not usually scared of heights, but right now, I understand where Wrecker was coming from.

"Oh!" This faint, groggy exclamation draws my attention. Obi-Wan is up. Well, not up, seeing as he desperately holds on to Anakin's shoulder, his eyes wide in surprise and fear. This is the worst situation he could have woken up in.