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It wasn't true.
It couldn't be true.
Padawan Marseph's tears streamed down his cheeks faster than he even thought possible. He was a Jedi, he wasn't supposed to cry, but he had to.
Because it was true.
The clones - their clones! - had turned against them. Just five minutes ago they had been fighting separatists together, fighting for their lives when their cruiser was hit and ended up crashing on the planet Zeffo. Chaita - that was Marseph's master - had taken his hand and together they had freed their soldiers from the chaos of the crash with the Force. She had also held his hand when the ship fell, seeing his panicked look. Master Chiata was always there, always, and to Marseph she was more than just a mentor, more than just a mother figure.
Then everything was ruined. And just when the Padawan thought nothing could get worse, his world completely shattered.
Their clone unit had turned against them. Chiata had defended Marseph and together they had been able to repel the first wave of their friends - no, their enemies. They were hurt, but they were alive.
At least now.
"Marseph! Come over here!" Chiata called quietly. Her padawan obeyed her word. The Jedi led him under a small ledge. Part of her cruiser's battered bow provided shade. Marseph sat down on the floor next to Chiata. The Jedi Master looked at him sadly, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do not be afraid, my young padawan. Even if it is the end, the Force is there.
Before he could stop it, the words flowed out of his mouth: "Aren't you afraid?" Chiata laughed softly. "No, Marseph. I'm not afraid. But that doesn't mean it's not okay. Tell me, Marseph, do bones scare you?" What kind of question was that? Sometimes his master would ask trick questions, or questions that had no answer at all, but she looked at him as if she expected an answer this time. So he thought. Finally he said, "No, Master. I'm not afraid of bones."
"I know," she replied, smiling at the sky as if she saw a future hidden from the padawan. Maybe it was just the sun blinding them?
"But you know what? Bones scare me. They remind me of terrible things I've seen long before you were born, padawan." Marseph hated it when she called him padawan, as if he were a youngling or even a trainee, but at the moment he was curious to hear her next answer. "What did you see?" Chiata sighed and looked into his eyes. "Terrible things. Every time I think about it, I know that the Jedi are important." Marseph nodded, pretending to understand what she meant. He did that sometimes, and often he had the feeling that Chiata knew that very well.
"Will we ever... return to the temple?" the padawan asked the question he had been most afraid to ask. His master seemed to be thinking. Occasionally Marseph wondered if she was the one doing the pretending to know things, not he.
"I don't know," she said quietly.
Marseph knew what she actually meant was "no." But instead of getting even more scared, he said: "It's okay. I... I have you" He would have loved to tell her that he wasn't afraid. But Jedi didn't lie and so he didn't.
Footsteps suddenly sounded near them. On the metal floor of the crossing you could hear armored boots, familiar voices that all sounded the same.
Marseph felt his master's hand on his shoulder again, then she placed a finger over her mouth and quietly stood up. Marseph did the same, his hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber. Chiata pointed forward to a corridor, Marseph walked towards it without making a sound. He knew Chiata was behind him.
Suddenly there was a noise and then Marseph realized that he had made it, because the ground had suddenly tilted and Marseph was frightened. He looked at his master, but she didn't look angry.
"Run, Marseph," she said and he immediately started running, obeying her commands as ever and always.
First, as he rounded the next corner, he heard the whirring of a lightsaber and the lasers of blasters. It was then that he realised that he wouldn't let his master do this one. Without thinking, he turned around and ran back to Chiata. Chiata stood in the middle, eight, maybe ten clones stood there, all of them shooting at the woman who had saved their lives an hour ago.
Marseph ignited his sword, ran towards one of the clones and plunged the blade into his back. Chiata looked at him, in her eyes he saw that she had known he couldn't leave her and he saw that she didn't wanted him to be here, here where carnage had ensued so suddenly.
Chiata managed to defeat three more soldiers and then, suddenly but inevitably, she was hit.
Marseph ran, someone else started firing at him, he wanted to ignore it, but then something hit him in the shoulder, his arm, his stomach. All the padawan could think about was his master, still standing there like a rock and not giving up. Two more clones fell through her blade, Marspeh managed to disarm another, but his lightsaber flew away in a high arc.
There was one enemy left, and he fired at Marspeh. The padawan prepared for the fatal shot, but instead of shooting him, Chiata stood in his way. Marseph only received a scratch.
And then it was over.
Marseph and Chiata had survived.
The padawan wanted to laugh and hug his master, but only then did he notice his wounds and the adrenaline that had previously held him up faded.
Marseph looked at Chiata, who was sitting on the ground. She pointed next to her.
Marspeh sat down next to her, similar to how the two had sat before her.
The padawan didn't want to look at his master, he couldn't. If he did, he would know he was alone. Chiata coughed, but then she managed to speak: "Marseph... It's all good. We made it, Padawan." "You... you..." "I know. I won't make it. It's okay." Marspeh looked at her with wide eyes.
"It's okay, Padawan. Come here." The Jedi put an arm around him and Marspeh's head landed on her chest all by itself. He felt his tears wet her robes. "It's fine, Padawan. It's fine." Another cough shook her body. Marseph cried next to her, clinging to the women who was the closest he had to a mother. Her heart was pounding slowly.
And that was it. That's what had happened.
And now...
Now she was gone.
Marspeh hadn't moved for ten minutes. It had been the ten quietest minutes of his life. No clones, no lightsabers, no coughing.
No heart pounding.
Finally he managed to stand up.
Marspeh dug into the earth until he was sure Chiata wouldn't get up.
At some point, long after he had placed her cold corpse inside as gently as possible, the tears stopped flowing.
He wished Chiata would call him padawan again, ask an unanswerable question again.
Suddenly he started coughing himself. That's how it had started with his master.
Marseph examined his wounds.
It didn't look good. Suddenly he was incredibly scared. Not from the pain, from the darkness that was slowly falling, or from the silence that was so oppressive. No, suddenly he was afraid of bones.
He stared at his bloody hands for a while. Then suddenly the fear was over. He no longer had any interest in anything. Chiata was one with the Force, and he would be too.
In his final moments, Padawan Marseph was at his bravest
Because it would never be like this again.
The fear was over.