Chapter Text
The feeling of wrong, wrong, WRONG settled like a pit in Anakin’s stomach. Ever since he had been summoned away from Umbara to meet with the Chancellor, he had been on edge. It was like the Force was screaming in his ear, telling him something, but he didn’t know what. He had spent the entire trip to Coruscant in restlessness, and every second he was away from Umbara, the bad feeling in his chest rose a little more.
Absently, Anakin scrolled through the mission plans that Krell and the soldiers were executing, and he was supposed to be there , but instead he was about to head home to safety while his men died.
The feeling of cold ice sliding down his spine only served to unnerve him more, but he couldn’t figure out what the problem was, and meditation eluded him, so he could find no answers there.
Suddenly, as if possessed, Anakin felt the urge to research Krell. He didn’t know why, the Jedi had seemed alright to him, if only arrogant, but even Anakin knew he suffered from that affliction himself. Yet, this was something entirely different. It was as if the most primal, basic part of his soul knew he had to do this, and as his instincts never led him wrong so far (well, there was that incident with Obi-Wan and the pet meerkat he thought his master would have loved, but how was he to know Obi-Wan was allergic to its fur?!), Anakin logged into the Archives, and-
An hour later, Anakin was headed back to Umbara.
Panic overtook Anakin’s senses, stemming from what he knew was fear, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Krell was with his men, and if the mission casualty reports were anything to go by, he’d be losing a lot of them if he didn’t get back to that accursed planet right now.
[Sorry I can't head back right now. Got to take care of smthn first.]
He sent a quick apology to the Chancellor, and entered hyperspace.
Fear, and so much anger was boiling in his blood right now, and try as he might, Anakin couldn’t bring himself to let it go. The casualties of the troops Krell was in charge of were off the charts. He had overlooked the first couple of missions where Krell had lost copious amounts of men, when there clearly was a better solution, but by the time he had read about the seventh skirmish where Pong had somehow managed to lose a quarter of his troops, Anakin knew he had to get back. Now.
He didn’t understand. Many of Krell’s earlier missions had been successes, but recently, most of them ended up as ‘victories’ at the price of so many clones. Worse than that, though, was the fact that there were clear moments when he could have used another plan, or utilized a different course of action that would have saved so many lives, but he had chosen to send those men to their deaths. Chosen to count them as expendable means to an end.
Anakin had a sinking feeling Krell was one of the Jedi-people , Krell didn’t deserve to be called a Jedi- who saw clones as nothing more than droids with flesh.
There was also the fact that Krell had suspicious contact with a... dubious frequency, and Anakin had the beginnings of an idea of why Krell was so eager to take this task and prove himself. The thought sparked a seed of fury inside Anakin, who gnashed his teeth together, and stewed in his impatience to get back to Rex and the men. When he got to Krell, he would get answers.