Space Marine in Star Wars

===Anakin Skywalker===

As Anakin watched the Jedi battle the Astartes, a growing fear clenched in his chest—an all-too-familiar sensation he had grown accustomed to in recent times. Qui-Gon was thrown toward one of the ships, knocked unconscious by the Chaos Sorcerer, while Obi-Wan continued to fight valiantly.

"Ani!" His mother, Shmi, shouted as Anakin ran toward the fallen Jedi.

Reaching Qui-Gon, Anakin began shaking the man desperately, shouting for him to wake up as he saw Obi-Wan struggle against the massive Space Marine, who seemed to toy with him.

"Master Qui-Gon, wake up, sir!" Anakin cried out, panic rising in his voice.

After a moment, Qui-Gon stirred, pushing himself up to his hands and knees. His eyes, bleary but focused, locked onto Obi-Wan as he fought the Astartes.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted, struggling to his feet, stumbling slightly.

"I WILL NOT FALL TO YOU!" Obi-Wan yelled, his voice filled with determination. In that instant, the Astartes ripped his lightsaber from his hands, and the Sorcerer overwhelmed him with raw, untamed power.

"No!" Qui-Gon roared, his voice full of anguish as he forced himself to his feet. He began to move toward the Sorcerer, but his attention was diverted by a sudden explosion as a massive droid Federation ship barreled into the hangar.

Reacting instinctively, Qui-Gon pulled Anakin toward him, leaping backward just as the ship crashed violently into the ground.

As the dust settled, Qui-Gon saw the Black Templar and Salamander Astartes leap from the wreckage, crashing to the ground and immediately engaging the Chaos Sorcerer in a new battle.

The battle raged fiercely, but a single, seemingly insignificant moment shifted everything for the Galaxy. The Black Templar raised his heavy bolt pistol and fired once before the weapon was torn from his hand. The bolt round split into two as it hurtled towards the Queen's entourage passed the Sorcerer.

Anakin watched in silent horror as one half struck his mother, sending her collapsing to the ground. The other half hit Lyra, who also crumpled.

"Mom!" Anakin cried, wrenching himself from Qui-Gon's grip and charging recklessly toward his fallen mother.

The three Astartes paid no heed to the chaos unfolding behind them. Sebastian hoisted the Thousand Sons sorcerer over his shoulder and charged straight at the wall leading to the massive generator room.

Anakin reached his mother in a frantic blur, his hands trembling as he knelt beside her. The impact of the bolt round had left a scorched wound, her once vibrant eyes now dull with pain.

"Mom, please," he whimpered, his voice shaking as he cradled her in his arms. Tears blurred his vision, but he couldn't look away from her face.

Shmi's breath was shallow, but she managed a faint smile, her hand reaching up to gently touch Anakin's cheek. "Ani... you must... you must be strong," she whispered, each word a struggle. "The Force... it's with you... always."

Anakin shook his head, refusing to accept the reality before him. "No! You can't leave me. I need you!" His chest tightened, the words choking in his throat.

For a brief moment, he looked up, his gaze flickering over to Nira, who was kneeling beside Lyra's body. Nira held Lyra's face in her hands, her sobs wracking her body as she wept uncontrollably. The sight of her grief struck Anakin hard, adding to the storm of emotion swirling within him.

Shmi's breathing faltered. "Anakin... you... you will change the galaxy," she whispered, her voice fading. "You... are the one..."

Anakin's heart thudded painfully in his chest. He wanted to scream, to shout at the universe, to beg for her life to be returned, but all that escaped was a choked sob as he pulled his mother's head to his chest, crying the way only a child could after such a tragedy.

Qui-Gon, seeing his apprentice's body lying nearby, quickly ran to Obi-Wan, kneeling down beside him and gently lifting his head. "Obi-Wan?" he whispered urgently, shaking him lightly, his voice tight with concern.

Obi-Wan did not stir. Qui-Gon's heart sank as he placed his left ear to Obi-Wan's chest. There, faint but steady, was the sound of his heartbeat. A fragile thread of life remained.

Relief flooded through him, but it was tempered by the urgency of the situation. He quickly checked for any other signs of injury, his hands moving expertly over Obi-Wan's body. The young Jedi was unconscious, but he was alive—barely.

His skin was cracked, and black veins marred his body, but Qui-Gon could still feel the strange energy, the same power he had sensed over the planet, slowly corrupting him. He closed his eyes, feeling the Force weakly pushing back against the corruption, but it was a losing battle. He still had time, though.

Looking over at the Queen's entourage, he saw the two children crying over their mothers. Padmé had gone to comfort Anakin, gently pulling him into an embrace, while Nira was receiving only comforting words from Captain Panaka.

Qui-Gon made sure Obi-Wan was alright before standing and walking over to the group. Kneeling down, he looked at the boy first.

"He killed them!" Anakin sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "He killed them both!"

Qui-Gon's gaze flicked down to Shmi's bloodied body before returning to the boy. "The Astartes are fighting him now," he said softly. "I'm sure it will be alright."

Anakin shook his head, pulling himself away from Padmé's embrace. "The Black Templar killed them!" the boy cried, his eyes falling on Nira, still crumpled over Lyra's body.

Qui-Gon didn't know what to say to the boy, but he knew he had to try to calm him. "Breathe, Anakin. Just breathe," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulders.

"Sebastian was trying to protect us. What happened was an accident. He didn't mean to do it," Qui-Gon explained gently.

"No! He knew what would happen!" Anakin protested, his voice shaking with rage.

Qui-Gon knew he wouldn't change the boy's mind, so he left Anakin with Padmé and stood. He walked over to Nira.

The girl looked up at him with despair in her swollen, red eyes before her gaze dropped back to her mother's body.

Qui-Gon knelt down next to Nira, unsure of how to comfort them in such a devastating moment. "I am so sorry," he said quietly.

"Do something. Anything!" she begged, desperately dragging her mother's lifeless hand toward him. "You're a Jedi. Bring her back!"

Qui-Gon took the cold hand but shook his head gently. "I can't. She's gone. I'm sorry."

"No," Nira whispered in disbelief, before breaking into sobs, collapsing onto her mother's chest again.

The group fell silent as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the generator room. The two loyalist Astartes entered, the Black Templar leading the way. His massive shield was scorched and ruined, though his sword remained intact. A chunk of his faceplate was missing, revealing a cold eye that looked upon the chaos with contempt.

Raxor followed, his armor cracked and chipped in multiple places. He was missing his left arm just above the elbow, but he seemed not to care.

As the two Astartes stepped into the room, they took in the destruction that had unfolded during their battle. Anakin's gaze burned with hatred as he glared at them, but Nira's expression softened as she looked upon them like saviors—angels who had spared them all.

Raxor, quickly understanding the gravity of the situation, walked toward the group, while Sebastian stood back, disinterested in the unfolding tragedy.

The Salamander knelt down beside Nira first, removing his helmet to reveal his midnight-black skin and piercing red eyes. He placed the helmet on the ground beside him, his gaze softening as he met Nira's eyes. He then lowered his gaze to Lyra's lifeless body.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Raxor said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. He turned to Anakin, who still trembled with silent rage, tears streaking down his face. The boy's body shook, whether from anger, grief, or both, Raxor could not say.

"Both of you," he added gently, his gaze lingering on Anakin before returning to Nira.

Raxor's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, but there was no comfort to be found in them. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, and Anakin's emotions were a volatile storm inside him, torn between the overwhelming grief for his mother and the burning rage at the Astartes.

Nira, on the other hand, stared at Raxor with a mix of disbelief and gratitude, her hands still clutching her mother's lifeless form as if hoping that, somehow, the warmth would return to her. She whispered a quiet "Thank you," though it was barely audible, her voice thick with sorrow.

Raxor understood the depth of their pain—he had seen loss, had known its gnawing grip, and though he could not undo the past, he could at least offer something that might ease their suffering, even if only for a moment.

As Raxor looked at the boy again, Anakin's furious gaze did not soften, though it did falter for a brief second, as if the boy was battling himself between conflicting emotions. The tension between them was palpable.

Anakin didn't respond at first, but then his shaking hand shot up, pointing accusatorially at the Black Templar. "You killed them!" he shouted, his voice breaking with the weight of his words. "You killed my mother! You killed them both!" His face was twisted with anger and confusion, the immense loss threatening to consume him.

Raxor stood, his expression hardening slightly but his tone remaining calm. "The battle was not ours to choose, boy, we did what needed to be done to kill the Sorcerer."

Anakin didn't want to hear it. He wanted to scream, to rail against the unfairness of it all, but his voice faltered, the storm inside him shifting to a numbness that threatened to drown him. His eyes darted to his mother's body, to Lyra's broken form, and then to the others in the room, all of them caught in their own web of sorrow and confusion.

Qui-Gon had watched the exchange from a distance, his heart heavy with the weight of his own helplessness.

He approached them now, placing a hand gently on Anakin's shoulder, though the boy stiffened at his touch. "Anakin," Qui-Gon said softly, his voice filled with quiet sorrow, "This isn't the way to honor your mother's memory. You must find peace within yourself."

Anakin pulled away from Qui-Gon's touch, his breathing ragged, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts. "Peace? How can there be peace when they're gone?" he spat, his voice laced with anguish. "How can there be peace when the ones who were supposed to protect us were the ones who killed them?"

Raxor, seeing the boy's torment, stepped forward, his deep voice steady. "Pain is the price of life, boy."

Anakin's eyes flickered briefly to the Salamander, his features a mix of confusion and unresolved fury. He wanted to shout at him, to accuse him of being just like the rest, but the words caught in his throat. He didn't know what to feel anymore. His mother was gone. Lyra was gone. The world he knew had crumbled.

Nira looked up at Raxor, her grief-stricken face softening slightly as she whispered, "What do we do now?"

The Salamander glanced over at her, his red eyes filled with a deep, sorrowful understanding. "You survive," he answered simply.

The words seemed to hang in the air, their weight settling over everyone like a thick fog. No one spoke for a long while, each of them lost in their thoughts, their grief, and their confusion.

Anakin didn't respond, but his tear-streaked face softened as he took a shaky breath, staring at the ground. His anger had not dissipated, but it had been replaced by something else—a hollow, aching emptiness.

"Your mother was right," Qui-Gon continued, kneeling beside him. "You will change the galaxy, Anakin. But first, you must find the strength to rise above this."

Anakin looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed, his face a mask of pain. "How?" he whispered.

Qui-Gon offered a small, sad smile. "One step at a time."

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