[ The Falleen are very proud of their iron mining facilities, Claude has been given the full tour of the factories this morning, the lean, green-skinned Falleen CEO talking at length about the measures they've been taking to ensure the secure passage of iron ore to and from the Empire. Claude has listened politely, hearing underneath the confident praise a hidden critique of the removal of natural resources from the planet, how this species all but slaves in the mines and are only given the most efficient price for their hard labour. The iron mines two planets over get double, one of the others had cut in during a brief pause in their discussion, but apparently our ore isn't of the right... quality.
They'd all looked meaningfully at each other. Because the Falleen aren't a humanoid race. They don't get their due.
This is one of the main reasons that Claude had been invited, because there had been talk of uproar and rebellion among the Falleen at the Empire's approach to non-human species throughout the galaxy. Maybe now was the time to present them with another option. Another way to fight back.
And so, they'd been in the middle of the unofficial part of their meetings today, when the alarm had suddenly started blaring, loud and shrill, shouting and crying Falleen people crawling out of the mine shafts, running for their lives while somewhere fire started blazing, things exploding, chaos.
Claude almost sighed, not sure whether in relief or in exhaustion. Exasperation. Today of all day? Really?
But the CEO of the mining company grabs him by the elbow and leads him towards the emergency exit, the five Falleen managers lead the way, their long legs making it difficult to keep up for Claude, though he doesn't stop moving, doesn't stop moving forward, away, away, away. It's when they're crossing over the huge courtyard in front of the main factory building, the doors banging open behind Claude for unknown reasons, he doesn't turn to look, that he feels it. Anakin's kyber crystal, trembling and shaking beneath his shirt, against his skin, like a fluttering heartbeat. He slows down enough to reach up and grab it, hold it, feel it. ]
[ For the past month or so, Sidious' agents have been closing in on him slowly but surely; the fact that it's taken them several months is probably a testament to Anakin's efficiency but he doesn't have the time to praise himself. He's working faster, trying to get at as many points of interest as possible before his luck runs out; after that, supposedly, he will transfer what information he has to Claude and let his people move as they see fit. For now, however, he still has some options and one of them is this severely under-priced Falleen operation, the ore of particular quality to Project Stardust. They'd want to give off the opposite impression, of course, and this operation is known as one of the least prestigious in the sector. Not too many hands, grabbling for it.
After today, there'll be even less.
When Anakin blows up the main processing facility, he'd counted on the chain reaction. He'd counted on the chaos and on multiple exit ways, closing to him. But he might have slightly misjudged the pattern of explosions, meaning that he's now running for the same exit as anyone on the most-upper levels of the complex, the hallways full of surveillance that he dismantles with the Force because there's a fireball working its way towards him from below and he doesn't have the time to get fancy.
He makes it out of the door and onto the courtyard before he realises.
His kyber crystal sings out to him from around Claude's neck, Claude who's right there with his back to him, in the midst of evacuation. Anakin's ship is in the directly opposite direction and he really should be going - but instead, he stands absolutely still amidst the chaos, dust and ashes floating in the air and blocking out the sky. Behind him, black smoke rises from the complex, the smell of melting durasteel drifting upwards. ]
[ Against all better judgement, Claude stops. Notices which way the Falleen managers are heading, knowing he'll be going that same way soon enough, but for now -- He turns around slowly, too slowly for the amount of chaos happening all around him, and catches Anakin's eyes across what is only mere yards, this time, not clicks and sectors and kriffing dimensions. He is right there. Claude is clutching the kyber to his chest, feeling it reach for its owner, and all he can think is: it's you.
I'm holding you.
The air is full of ashes, dancing across the sky while everything burns to the ground around them, durasteel melting, explosions still making the buildings in front of him shake and crumble. A very typical Anakin type of action, isn't it? He remembers him running bare-chested through the crowds on Paris, wielding his lightsaber, back then. Back then. Some things never change. He swallows hard and tries to turn away, move, evacuate along with everyone else, but his feet are frozen in place and his hands are sweaty, like his body is fighting him.
He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave him again.
Look what happened last time.
Claude can't breathe, the air thick with smoke and no doubt toxic fumes. He clamps his free hand over his nose and mouth, but doesn't break eye contact, doesn't turn around. What are you doing, Obran, come on, someone yells further ahead, his new identity suddenly a reality again, he isn't who he was, he doesn't even look it. Ridiculously enough he wonders if Anakin likes his at this point nicely-trimmed, full-grown beard.
[ For one, agonizing moment, Anakin isn't certain he'll turn towards him - and he shouldn't, considering what's happening around them but the thought of not seeing him -
Claude turns.
He looks both like himself and not, the beard full-grown now and very nicely kept. It changes his entire face, somehow, emphasises certain features, hides others. His eyes are the same, dark brown and the fire rising from the roof behind Anakin is reflected in them; indeed, this is a much too dangerous place for the other man. Regardless, Anakin stands still and drinks in the sight of him, the well-known shape of his body, thinking about his voice over their last holo-call so many months ago. Force, he's alive, still. Anakin has found a way to deal with the uncertainty by simply telling himself that he must be, that he can't possibly be dead. He'd rather believe that, he finds, than anything else, even with no evidence to back it up.
He needs to believe that.
Someone calls out for Claude - Obran, so that's his new cover name which Anakin will have to quickly forget, lest Sidious somehow finds a way to penetrate his mental shields and steal the information. He stands a little straighter, looking the other man over again and again, telling himself that while this isn't enough, it'll have to be. They will find each other again.
After.
With a half-smile that might not translate across the distance for all the wrappings around his face and scalp, Anakin reaches up slowly with one hand and rubs his chin. He gives Claude a nod - I like it - before he steps back. Then, closing his eyes, he reaches for him and there's a crossroads in front of him now, the one he always has to face every single time he chooses to do better, to make things different, and right now it means not pulling Claude towards him. Even though he wants to. Even though a part of him still believes it would be better than any alternative, no matter the consequences.
Gently, he turns Claude around. Then, he imagines a hand, large and strong, between the other man's shoulder blades and he pushes him away, onwards. Go, it means. Be safe.
Biting his lower lip hard, he gathers the Force around himself and runs. ]
[ He realizes too late that he can't. He can't make himself go, preferring maybe in this brief moment to go down with the factory rather than parting from Anakin again. Selfishly. Selfishly. But Anakin rubs his chin and nods, indicating that he likes it, his new facial hair and just at that small gesture, that tiny second in time, something releases inside Claude, something lets loose and he would have turned eventually, slower than necessary, but eventually, if not the other man had reached out for him in the Force, twirling him around very nicely and softly and carefully, then - like a huge, powerful hand between his shoulder blades - pushing him forward, towards the waiting Falleen CEO, shouting for him and waving both arms frantically. And the rest of him melts. The rest of him breaks free. So, Claude runs, shouting back to the CEO, get out, get out, get out, I know where I'm going, while he keeps his back on Anakin, not even looking over his shoulder to check he's getting away as well.
So, they'll make a place for him. He's done horrific things, but he's also done great things and while the two don't compare, just measured in action, the intention weighs just as heavily, right? It must. It absolutely has to, by now.
And if Anakin continues to fight not only the Empire but himself? They can make no other demands of him, and shouldn't either, unless they want to push him beyond his breaking point.
The question is not if he'll work for them. Anakin needs work for no one, even now. The question is whether he'll work with them. And if nothing else, then with Claude, yeah? Claude can handle him, even if he refuses to be his handler.
That's the last thing he remembers thinking before he's dragged inside the nearest evacuation vehicle and taken away from the factory behind them, crumbling to the ground from the top-down. The way things need to be done, when it comes to structures like this and structures like the Empire and all power structures, the end. ]
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no subject
They'd all looked meaningfully at each other. Because the Falleen aren't a humanoid race. They don't get their due.
This is one of the main reasons that Claude had been invited, because there had been talk of uproar and rebellion among the Falleen at the Empire's approach to non-human species throughout the galaxy. Maybe now was the time to present them with another option. Another way to fight back.
And so, they'd been in the middle of the unofficial part of their meetings today, when the alarm had suddenly started blaring, loud and shrill, shouting and crying Falleen people crawling out of the mine shafts, running for their lives while somewhere fire started blazing, things exploding, chaos.
Claude almost sighed, not sure whether in relief or in exhaustion. Exasperation. Today of all day? Really?
But the CEO of the mining company grabs him by the elbow and leads him towards the emergency exit, the five Falleen managers lead the way, their long legs making it difficult to keep up for Claude, though he doesn't stop moving, doesn't stop moving forward, away, away, away. It's when they're crossing over the huge courtyard in front of the main factory building, the doors banging open behind Claude for unknown reasons, he doesn't turn to look, that he feels it. Anakin's kyber crystal, trembling and shaking beneath his shirt, against his skin, like a fluttering heartbeat. He slows down enough to reach up and grab it, hold it, feel it. ]
no subject
After today, there'll be even less.
When Anakin blows up the main processing facility, he'd counted on the chain reaction. He'd counted on the chaos and on multiple exit ways, closing to him. But he might have slightly misjudged the pattern of explosions, meaning that he's now running for the same exit as anyone on the most-upper levels of the complex, the hallways full of surveillance that he dismantles with the Force because there's a fireball working its way towards him from below and he doesn't have the time to get fancy.
He makes it out of the door and onto the courtyard before he realises.
His kyber crystal sings out to him from around Claude's neck, Claude who's right there with his back to him, in the midst of evacuation. Anakin's ship is in the directly opposite direction and he really should be going - but instead, he stands absolutely still amidst the chaos, dust and ashes floating in the air and blocking out the sky. Behind him, black smoke rises from the complex, the smell of melting durasteel drifting upwards. ]
no subject
I'm holding you.
The air is full of ashes, dancing across the sky while everything burns to the ground around them, durasteel melting, explosions still making the buildings in front of him shake and crumble. A very typical Anakin type of action, isn't it? He remembers him running bare-chested through the crowds on Paris, wielding his lightsaber, back then. Back then. Some things never change. He swallows hard and tries to turn away, move, evacuate along with everyone else, but his feet are frozen in place and his hands are sweaty, like his body is fighting him.
He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave him again.
Look what happened last time.
Claude can't breathe, the air thick with smoke and no doubt toxic fumes. He clamps his free hand over his nose and mouth, but doesn't break eye contact, doesn't turn around. What are you doing, Obran, come on, someone yells further ahead, his new identity suddenly a reality again, he isn't who he was, he doesn't even look it. Ridiculously enough he wonders if Anakin likes his at this point nicely-trimmed, full-grown beard.
He should run. He should... ]
no subject
Claude turns.
He looks both like himself and not, the beard full-grown now and very nicely kept. It changes his entire face, somehow, emphasises certain features, hides others. His eyes are the same, dark brown and the fire rising from the roof behind Anakin is reflected in them; indeed, this is a much too dangerous place for the other man. Regardless, Anakin stands still and drinks in the sight of him, the well-known shape of his body, thinking about his voice over their last holo-call so many months ago. Force, he's alive, still. Anakin has found a way to deal with the uncertainty by simply telling himself that he must be, that he can't possibly be dead. He'd rather believe that, he finds, than anything else, even with no evidence to back it up.
He needs to believe that.
Someone calls out for Claude - Obran, so that's his new cover name which Anakin will have to quickly forget, lest Sidious somehow finds a way to penetrate his mental shields and steal the information. He stands a little straighter, looking the other man over again and again, telling himself that while this isn't enough, it'll have to be. They will find each other again.
After.
With a half-smile that might not translate across the distance for all the wrappings around his face and scalp, Anakin reaches up slowly with one hand and rubs his chin. He gives Claude a nod - I like it - before he steps back. Then, closing his eyes, he reaches for him and there's a crossroads in front of him now, the one he always has to face every single time he chooses to do better, to make things different, and right now it means not pulling Claude towards him. Even though he wants to. Even though a part of him still believes it would be better than any alternative, no matter the consequences.
Gently, he turns Claude around. Then, he imagines a hand, large and strong, between the other man's shoulder blades and he pushes him away, onwards. Go, it means. Be safe.
Biting his lower lip hard, he gathers the Force around himself and runs. ]
no subject
Claude trusts him with that.
Because he's just shown himself trust-worthy, hasn't he? He's not contacted him, he's not followed or tried to intervene. He has worked on himself first, like Claude told him to and now, it's Claude's turn to do the work. To build up that trust on his end, too. He needs to talk to Padmé, because after this, he imagines Anakin might not have many more places to go.
So, they'll make a place for him. He's done horrific things, but he's also done great things and while the two don't compare, just measured in action, the intention weighs just as heavily, right? It must. It absolutely has to, by now.
And if Anakin continues to fight not only the Empire but himself? They can make no other demands of him, and shouldn't either, unless they want to push him beyond his breaking point.
The question is not if he'll work for them. Anakin needs work for no one, even now. The question is whether he'll work with them. And if nothing else, then with Claude, yeah? Claude can handle him, even if he refuses to be his handler.
That's the last thing he remembers thinking before he's dragged inside the nearest evacuation vehicle and taken away from the factory behind them, crumbling to the ground from the top-down. The way things need to be done, when it comes to structures like this and structures like the Empire and all power structures, the end. ]