Vader was the first to move, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in front of the Jedi. "What to do first? Hmm…kneel. And look at me."

As his body lowered itself to its knees, Obi-Wan mentally huddled up, imagining curling up in a corner with a blanket as he had done after nightmares in the crèche when he was only a couple of years old – and then he let the imagining go, just before his eyes met those of the Sith Lord standing over him. He was here, now, and the Temple had burned. He had seen the aftermath, fought among the bodies even as he recognised the corpses of his friends and comrades and had to work on not letting the tears escape his eyes, which could blur his vision and prove deadly.

Vader was smirking.

Obi-Wan rather wanted to spit at him. He would not have done it even if he had had control of his body, but for a moment, before the let the desire go, he wanted to.

Durasteel fingers wound their way through his hair, the bare metal joints catching and pulling painfully at it. The fingers were cold, and Obi-Wan felt like shivering inside, a feeling that intensified when Vader's flesh hand came to rest once more on the pulse in his neck. It felt clammy.

Vader leaned down, eyes shining with a sick glee that Obi-Wan would rather have not noticed. "Oh, I like this. Let's see, why don't you bow next."

At least that broke the eye contact. Stomach burning with the shame caused by not only having been unable to avoid it again, but to be this helpless in front of not only Vader, but Sidious, who would be looking to get more than the personal revenge and feeling of gratification it seemed to bring Vader.

Humiliation he could deal with. Especially if humiliation was the alternative to finding out just how he could be used against those fighting against the Empire, he could deal with it. He didn't like it at all, but then, he knew he had always been a bit too proud

Sidious would use him and Vader's power over him, to hurt those fighting against the Empire. They were not, for the most part, Obi-Wan's allies – they were too suspicious, too wary of another betrayal like Palpatine's and Anakin's, and in some cases just too anti Jedi. The earlier cells of resistance had been ones that were already formed when the Empire rose, after all.

There were Jedi-including operations, but his connection with Anakin made them too wary of betrayal. Ironically, it was his position as council member that worked against him there; beings had not been promoted to the council unless they had been good enough at shielding their mind to protect the delicate information that had passed through that chamber, and then they were taught more ways of shielding their minds. Most of the Jedi survivors Obi-Wan had run into since Order 66 had been suspicious because they had no way of verifying who he was working for. There had not been many. Very few Jedi had escaped, and of those Garen and Master Yoda had been perhaps the only ones to completely believe in him. Even Ferus had been suspicious, in spite of Garen's vouching for him.

He needed to stop thinking about the rebels. That much was safe enough – the Empire knew that Garen and Ferus and Yoda had survived, knew that there were a few other Jedi that had lived, and he imagined that if they hadn't known that the Rebels were suspicious of Obi-Wan then they had at least guessed. They had worked towards it at least a bit, recycling old Clone Wars propaganda to boost Vader's image, propaganda that had included Obi-Wan instead of digging out the images that were of Anakin alone, from the times that they had not been working together, or had been working on separate parts of the same thing.

Vader crouched and reached out and stroked the Jedi's cheek – sunken, from too long living with barely enough to eat and not even that at times when staying alive now had been prioritised over the eating needed to survive in the long term – and Obi-Wan wondered briefly and irritably what all the manhandling was about, before tuning in as he realised that he was standing up again.

Alright, it appeared that he did not have to be paying attention for Vader to order him about. Not good to know.

"Lord Vader, you can play with him later. Right now I want results, not entertainment."

Kriff.

"Yes Master," Vader acquiesced, fists clenching at being denied his fun. His face was coming dangerously close to an ugly pout that in no way belonged on the face of any being over the age of six, at most, which would have been funny if Sidious had not just stopped postponing the reality that had caused the nightmares Obi-Wan had been having, and if Obi-Wan had not known that he would be bearing the brunt of Vader's anger.

"Can you talk? Yes or no."

The words were spat in his face, and some spittle landed on Obi-Wan's cheek. He found himself staying silent, impassive. Oh good, there is a limit.

"I asked you a question!" Vader grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him so badly and suddenly that his head snapped back, something which hurt quite a lot. Well, it was not like these two of all people cared about his comfort and safety.

"If the answer is no, then he is hardly going to talk about it." Sidious seemed almost amused. And thoughtful, which was never a good thing for a captor to be when he was being held captive. Obi-Wan would have preferred anger; angry people make mistakes, the Sith included. There was a moment of silence in the room as Vader let go of Obi-Wan, Sidious getting the faraway look that apparently meant looking to the Force for Sith as well as Jedi. "Then again, he may just not answer questions."

Vader snarled. Maybe it was because they had run into a limiting factor so quickly, but he did not appear to be enjoying this now anything like as much as he had been. "Repeat after me, the Sith Order is better than the Jedi."

"The Sith Order is better than the Jedi."

Obi-Wan heard the words spoken in a low monotone, not registering for a moment who was saying it, and then he indulged in another moment of swearing at the top of his thoughts. So, Vader could cause him to speak, as well. This could be problematic.

Eyes focused on the floor, he could not see their expressions, but he could guess. Vader, at least, he knew well enough to suppose that the snarl had melted away, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth to replace it, his eyes lighting up in cruel satisfaction.

Inwardly, Obi-Wan scowled. Quite apart from the problems this revelation could cause, the Sith were not better than the Jedi. They just had "must have superiority complex" as one of their entry requirements.

A soft, terrifying sound reached his ears.

It was creepy, it grated on his ears and nerves, and under normal circumstances it would have set his teeth on edge and caused his hair to stand on end. Low and irregular, reminiscent of coughing but far more sinister, coming from vocal cords that sounded like they rarely, if ever, were used that way – Sidious was chuckling.

Obi-Wan did not need access to the Force to have a Bad Feeling about this.

"Master?" Vader's voice sounded as though it were coming from a long way off, through some substance thicker than air.

The sound abruptly cut off. "Continue, Lord Vader," Sidious proclaimed ostentatiously, as though addressing a large crowd who should consider themselves the luckiest people in the galaxy to have the opportunity to hear his voice as he announced some grand revelation. Obi-Wan had heard that tone before, over the holonet when Sidious had announced hat to Jedi had rebelled against the Republic, and then turned the Republic into an Empire with one grand, world shaking bunch of lies.

Vader continued. Obi-Wan paid attention, knowing better than to wish he were not in this position – it would be utterly pointless, would not help in any way, and would take away time that he could put into gathering information – wanting to know the limits of Vader's control as much as they did, though for entirely different reasons. As the one on the other end of the control, he possibly wanted to know more. And so the experimenting continued.

Sidious could not order him about. That, after his inability to answer questions, was the Jedi's first major cause of relief. Not answering questions meant that he could not be asked and have to answer questions about other surviving Jedi, who was helping them, who was involved in various rebel groups and where some of their bases were, all the things he knew which could damage various people who were fighting, building underground resistance in ways that had not yet come to the Empire's attention, hiding those with prices and/or death warrants on their heads under the Empire's rule. Sidious's inability to order him about, and then one of the clones that they recruited to help when they came to take Obi-Wan back to his cell – he supposed they set a time limit on their little experiment – it meant that the only one who had that power over him, even when drugged by the venom, was Vader. Vader was possibly the second worst person in the Galaxy to have that power, but he was not the worst, and Obi-Wan could take some small comfort from that.

Sidious swept out, ordering Vader to come by his office once he is finished, and the Clones watched, their expressions stoically unreadable but their faces varying degrees of pale, as Vader bit Obi-Wan's neck and drank his fill. The Sith made sure the side he drank from was not the side he anaesthetised, like last time, but the painkilling agent had dispersed enough that the area is slightly numb. Maybe that is what makes the difference, maybe Vader just does not drink as much this time, but for whatever reason, Obi-Wan is still awake at the end. Vader pulls away, his mouth stained, and Obi-Wan can feel the blood trickling out of the wound, almost ticklish, and he has not passed out as he has the other two times he has been fed on. He is wavering on his feet; nothing, not even Vader's control, could hide that. He is far too pale, with fresh blood on his neck, but he is awake.

Vader eyes him. "I don't think you need to bother with the binders," he tells the Clones, and despite the phrasing they correctly interpret it as an order that Obi-Wan will analyse the meaning of when he isn't feeling quite so woozy. They leave the binders off as they surround him, Vader orders him to go quietly and they prod him out into the hall. Unlike the last time, he is almost grateful for the hands holding his elbows. He may be able to keep himself upright, but he is not so sure about his ability to determine the right direction.

There is another person in one of the hallways they go through, and Obi-Wan blinks at him for a moment before realising that he isn't hallucinating from the blood loss. Apparently the feeling is mutual, as the figure in dark clothing blinks in return, before his eyes narrow and he starts half ranting that he should have known better that to trust someone who's apprentice ran off and became a Sith, and images of Yoda and Dooku flash through his mind, but he is too tired to laugh at the absurdity of that line of thought before his attention is dragged back to Ferus – and what is Ferus doing here? – as he claims that he knew something was off, and the Obi-Wan should have listened to him all those years ago, before Anakin dragged him down with him as he fell and became Vader.

If Ferus is here, then he's either a prisoner, which he clearly isn't, or he's turned, meaning that that little speech is a bit…"Rich," he manages to mumble, because it is rich, a speech about how Obi-Wan should have avoided the Dark side when he's not actually on it, delivered from someone in his position. Ferus stops talking in surprise, and the Clones snap to even more alert than they already were, which was pretty alert, and he knows, he worked with Clones for years before they started shooting at him, because he is not supposed to talk, Vader ordered him to go quietly, and that applies in several ways –

Darkness creeps into the corners of his vision, and the last thing he sees before he collapses into unconsciousness is Ferus's shocked face as realisation of something suddenly dawns on him.

A.N. Sidious has an idea, Obi-Wan has a Bad Feeling (as well he should), Vader has a tantrum (or close), Ferus has an appearance and a realisation, and I have a plot and chapter titles. Yay!

Thank you to those who took the time to read this, a bigger thank you to the people who have put this story on alerts, and a huge thank you to those who have reviewed. In regards to the reviewers, people, please join them. Even if it's just a few words, I'd like to know what you think.

I've just realised that I've been neglecting any disclaimers. Ah well, I'm posting on a fanfiction site. I'm sure you're all smart enough to figure out that Star Wars ain't mine. In case of lawyers, let me repeat, it ain't mine, and that goes for the other chapters in the story too.