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You stopped abruptly as a piece of plastoid clattered against your foot, staring down to see the vessel of skin and bones that you had once known.
The armour was lit dimly by the flickering lights above, flashing between a shade of navy and the bright blue it had shown to be in the sun.
You crouched to push the body onto its back. Still clutching the blaster that had caused more death than it was worth, laid a member of the legion you had known the best.
Infiltrating the Jedi Temple was not going to be easy: you had told yourself that even before you had arrived. As you and Obi-Wan had met on the outskirts of Coruscant, you knew that this was going to be no simple task, you knew that. But you didn’t know it was going to be this hard, this painful.
”Wrong, is something?” Master Yoda’s voice was almost tantalising in this current situation.
Everything was wrong.
You paused before speaking. “The 501st,” you mumbled. “They’re here.”
Obi-Wan mumbled a name that Yoda did not quite catch, but turned the blood in your body cold.
Anakin.
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Order 66 one shot loosely based on the song Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers.
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