Anakin begins the journey home.

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Obi-Wan meets them at the shuttle empty-handed, a deep scowl etching his features. Ahsoka doesn't ask what happened; it's clear the question would not be welcome at the moment. With Kix and Coric tending to Anakin - they'd ushered her out quickly once they'd gotten him settled in the shuttle's small med-bay - Ahsoka takes it upon herself to get them in the air. The sooner they get to Coruscant, the better. "How is he?" Obi-Wan asks, settling into the co-pilot's seat.

Ahsoka grimaces. "I'm not sure," she admits softly. She has some idea, saw the worst of the wounds, but there were others she knows are there, and she has no idea his mental state. "He's really out of it - Kix and Coric are looking him over." She wants to be back there with them, wants her Master to know she's there, to know he has support, but she has a feeling some of what the medics are discovering aren't things Anakin would want her seeing. She'll find out, she'll make sure she does, promises herself that she will be there every moment hereafter for Anakin. He's her best friend in the galaxy, her mentor, and she loves him despite teachings to the contrary (though it would be hypocritical of him or Obi-Wan to scold her on the matter, considering how attached they are to one another). She'll get him through this.

"I see," Obi-Wan replies tightly. "You did well," he adds, almost an afterthought, as if scrounging for something to fill the silence.

Ahsoka finds she cannot take her eyes off the controls; she doesn't care about her own performance, she just cares about getting back to Coruscant. She tries to come up with a response befitting a Jedi Padawan, but she can't, so just says, "Thank you."


It's cold here, and everything hurts. It's brighter than where he'd been before, but Omega probably just turned the lights up once he realized how badly Anakin has been hurt. Probably preparing to finish the job Anakin couldn't, the usefulness of his plaything gone. He'd thought he'd heard Ahsoka, and at least one Clone, but he's not stupid: he knows he's gone into shock from blood loss and the trauma to his chest, Ahsoka's presence was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Hands probe at his wounds and he tries to slap them away, but his wrists are fastened to the bed frame. "Lemme go!" he demands, not as much strength behind it as he'd like. "I'll... do... 'Ever you..." If he's going to die, if Omega is going to finish him off, he doesn't want to die chained to a bed. With a hard yank to the restraints, he curses whatever had alerted Omega to his suicide attempt - he'd been at peace with it, then, and now he has to fight again and he's not sure he has the strength for it. He can feel the first icy tendrils of withdrawal starting amidst the rest of the discomfort, and he tries pulling again.

"It's all right, General." Omega's cruelty is unimaginable, pitching his voice to sound like Kix's, trying to lull him into a false sense of security. The face Anakin sees when he opens his eyes is Kix's as well, but it's what he wants to see, and he knows his mind is just playing tricks again. "You're safe now, Sir. We're heading home." The hand that had been checking his wounds flattens against his abdomen to try and still him. "Stay calm, Sir."

"Can't you give him anything?" It's another Clone voice, simply a manifestation of Anakin's desire - no, not desire. Need.

"His tox screen is off the charts," Omega replies in Kix's voice, using words Kix would use. "I can't right now." He's pitched his voice to sound sympathetic, apologetic, to fool him. He looks at Anakin from Kix's face. "You'll be all right, Sir."

Realizing that Omega has no intention of dropping the act, Anakin slumps back against the pillows and closes his eyes.


Ahsoka can hear screaming coming from the medbay, a horrible inhuman sound that makes the sensitive skin on her lekku prickle with unease. It barely sounds like her Master, that voice, the hoarse keening wails that permeate the air of the shuttle. Obi-Wan is in there, and Ahsoka wants to be with him, but her Master's Master had said, "There will be time enough for that," and left her alone in the hallway.

"Nononononono! STOP!" Begging, pleading, and Ahsoka has never felt quite so helpless or anxious in her life. Her Master doesn't beg. He doesn't scream. Whatever the war throws at him, he brushes off like so much dust. His agony in the Force is immense, and she can't even try to make sense of it. It's hurting her, too, so she puts up her shields - just a little - and waits until Obi-Wan reappears, ashen and trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?" she demands immediately, putting herself between Obi-Wan and any kind of retreat from her question. "What did Omega do to him?"

Obi-Wan sighs, runs a hand over his beard and through his hair, dislodging the usually pristinely-combed strands, making him look slightly disheveled and much younger and more human than he normally does. "I think it's time we had a talk, Ahsoka," he says after a long moment, voice tight.

He leads her to the sparse sleeping chamber; two bunks and an alcoved desk, little else. She perches on one of the bunks and he takes the chair, weary in a way she's never seen. "Granta Omega is the son of Xanatos du Crion," he explains, "who was my Master's apprentice before me. Without belaboring the point, Xanatos left the Order in disgrace, and swore revenge upon Qui-Gon. His son, then, swore revenge upon... well... me." The guilt weighs heavy in his voice as he continues, Ahsoka leaning forward in rapt attention. "He took an interest in Anakin when he was still my Padawan, and I had thought..." A sigh. "I had thought I'd killed him."

Ahsoka furrows her brow slightly. None of this sounds remotely hopeful; Anakin and Obi-Wan have many enemies, but this sounds much more personal than any of those. "Granta Omega deals in torture of the most heinous nature, purely for the fun of it. He..." And here Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and lowers his head. "Anakin has been..."

She can guess. She saw the blood on his legs, the dehumanizing nudity, the bite marks on Anakin's wrist from his own teeth. She doesn't make Obi-Wan say it. "I know," she offers.

Obi-Wan looks only mildly surprised by the admission, but nods slightly. "Omega also has a predilection for utilizing mind altering chemicals. The last time..." Another deep breath. "Very dangerous, and highly addictive both physically and mentally. The combination of torture and the drugs makes his victim..." She notices that he doesn't say 'Anakin', that he is distancing himself from the situation. She doesn't comment. "Well... it makes it so he is able to maintain a high level of control."

Ahsoka shifts uncomfortably. "But Anakin will be okay, right?" she asks, prodding, trying to keep the desperation from leeching into her voice. Of course he will be, he has to be.

"I honestly don't know."

The words are like a punch to the chest, and Ahsoka draws in on herself, the uncertain future looming ahead of her like a great weight.


Captain Rex considers himself fairly unflappable. After serving as the 501st's second in command (besides Commander Tano, of course) for the past year and a half, he mistakenly thought he'd be prepared for anything. He is not, however, prepared to see his General writhing in agony on a medbay cot, arms strapped to the rails, screaming whenever anyone comes near him.

To Rex and the rest of the 501st, Skywalker is a rock. He leads from the front, commands - and earns - their unwavering loyalty and gives it back to them in return. He is the greatest soldier Rex has ever had the pleasure of knowing, and nothing has ever slowed him down. He doesn't even seem to recognize them, now.

Kix had told him that Skywalker had been drugged to the gills and tortured, which Rex supposes explains some of it, but there's more Kix - and General Kenobi and Commander Tano - aren't saying. Rex isn't used to being out of the loop; Skywalker believes in transparency with his men. It's a disconcerting feeling, and it only gets worse the closer they get to Coruscant because Rex isn't sure a few days with the Jedi Healers are going to give him his General back this time.


They keep saying they're landing at the Temple. Someone does - Omega? He's not sure anymore. Things are becoming a little more real, but the pain is making it hard to concentrate on what is truth and what is the product of his fevered imagination. He pleads for relief, though none comes, even with his promises of what he can do to make it worth their while.

Kix - or Omega in Kix's skin - pushes him down again. "That's unnecessary, Sir," he says, doing an excellent job of sounding horrified by Anakin's attempts at some kind of seduction. "Please stop." He's beginning to think maybe all of this is really happening, because surely Omega would have taken him up on the offer by now.

The idea that this IS real, and that his men are witness to his utter degradation, makes Anakin's gut clench. Still, he can't quite stop himself from his reactions, from the violent shivers and desperation. And the fact the Jedi Healers - if that is truly where they are heading - will see this as well, will hold sway over him and his freedom just as much as Omega - makes him quite literally vomit. He wants to go home, but he's terrified of it.


Kix cleans vomit off the General's chin, careful to avoid the healing bruises as much as he can. Skywalker's face is flushed, though from fever or shame Kix isn't sure. Knowing the man, he'd wager a combination of both because it's not just the puke Kix has been cleaning up; Skywalker has lost control over most of his bodily functions as infection and withdrawal keep his nervous system otherwise occupied. Kix would feel better if he were able to properly medicate Skywalker, but with the tox screens still coming back positive, he can't risk it; he can't even get a proper read on what's working its way out of Skywalker's system, though whatever it is is all sorts of nasty.

"We're docking at the Temple now," he informs Skywalker, checking vital signs, making sure he's at least stable enough to move. He is, but barely. A bacta tank will definitely be on the agenda in the coming days, and Kix sure hopes the Jedi Healers can make some sense of what seem to be deep routed hallucinations.

Skywalker tugs at the restraints again, moaning. "No, please no," he begs, though Kix couldn't say why. Embarrassment? Fear? The belief that perhaps none of this is really happening? "Don't wanna..." Skywalker gags and Kix shoves a basin under his mouth to catch the bile that comes up.

There's a jolt as the shuttle lands and Kix starts to switch the monitors and other devices to their portable modes. "It'll be better for you there, Sir," he explains, though trying to talk sense into the man has been like talking to a brick wall.

"NOT better," Skywalker snaps, flicking his fingers in frustration. "I hate you!"

Kix sighs and continues his work in silence.