One ration bar and two cups of caf later, Padme began to return to her usual self. After rehydrating with some water and another vita stim, nearly all traces of the festering darkness within her had cleared. Of course there were the latent roots of it that held fast deep down, but it was only natural after what she had been through. Anakin almost envied her ability to put things out of mind so easily, but mostly he was glad she was feeling so much better already. With all the talking and laughing it almost felt like old times. Before the war, when his only worries had been how to survive under Master Tholme, and how he would justify or explain all the time he spent away in his apartment, or off in the lower levels.

Those times had still been simpler. He wouldn't dare to say better, but absolutely simpler. He learned so much about himself during those days, who he thought he was, and what he wanted. He thought at the time it would bring him some measure of peace. It hadn't. He learned how to seek out those moments of zen tranquility instead, to find his center, among other things. And Padme was there goading him along the entire way, entirely too excited to encourage his habits.

She had even brought him home to Bail and Breha once or twice. He quickly discovered the level of commitment that they wanted from him wasn't something he was willing to give. He almost regretted not pushing past that reserve, but held true regardless. Anakin was determined to not let anyone get the emotional upper hand over him ever again. Love was power. It was too much power- more than he would allow any one person to wield over him.

Even still, Padme loved the ever elusive chase to find the perfect playmate for him. Anakin suspected it was even more entertaining for her than himself. Of course after the war began, time for such games diminished altogether. Padme was busy with her Senatorial duties and Anakin was sent to the battlefront, where he quickly ascended into Knighthood. Those first few months had turned the boy he had been, into the man he had become. He and Padme had hardly spent any time together since the Clone Wars began.

So the trip between Cato Neimoidia and Coruscant felt like a much needed chance to catch up on the latest goings on. While there was some small talk on the war, strategies and issues, mostly they avoided it out of pure exhaustion on the subject.

"You know, Bail still talks about you. He misses you." Padme said.

"I'm flattered." Anakin returned with a half-smile. "Bail… he's intense. You know that better than anyone aside from Breha. That's not for me."

"He is." Padme said with a warm smile. "And I understand. But really, the four of us ought to do dinner some time, or... something."

"Yeah, let me just schedule that between the planetary invasion next week and the battle after that." Anakin laughed.

"I know. It's silly. I just miss the old times, I guess." Padme said whimsically. "Maybe next time you're on leave, we can go out like we used to. Find you Mr. right for the night?" Padme laughed.

"To be honest, I think I'm just taking a break. From all of it." Anakin said grimly, trying to pull himself from the shock of his latest encounter as it came to mind again. He could feel his skin crawl, his chest tighten. He pushed past it, bringing himself back before it could take full hold.

"Really?" Padme said with disbelief. "You?"

"Yeah." Anakin said seriously.

"Did something happen?" Padme asked, worried. He could feel unspoken words clattering around inside her skull. He had seen that face before, too. The last thing he wanted was pity.

"Yes? No?" Anakin said, frustrated. "It's just me, you know? Nothing happened."

"Alright, I believe you." Padme said with a skeptical glance. "And if something did, you would tell me, right?"

"What do you think?" Anakin shot back, a little sore for the question. "You're my best friend, what else are you for if I can't tell you all my deepest darkest secrets?" He said, the grim look fading to the start of a reassuring smile.

Padme smiled back at him. "I guess you have a point." Between breath and her next word, the nav computer chirped out calling Anakin back up to the helm.

"Back to Coruscant already." Anakin said with a touch of melancholy. If only some moments could last a little bit longer. Time in the company of a trusted friend was a rare commodity in better times, even more so now.

Anakin grabbed another water pouch from the drawer of rations and supplies. "Here, try to get another one of these in before Bail and Breha lay eyes on you." He said, rising to his feet and striding over to the front of the ship.

"Is it that bad?" Padme asked, ripping off the top of the pouch and bringing it to her lips.

"Not necessarily, but I know how particular Bail is." Anakin called over his shoulder.

"I don't expect him to willingly let me out of his sight for the next standard year at least." Padme answered back. "Not that he has a choice in the matter. The Senate always comes first. Our arrangement hinges on Bail and Breha understanding and accepting that." Although for the Organas, they didn't have to like it to accept it. But Anakin wagered that they wouldn't trade Padme's willful spirit for anything or anyone.

"Alright, strap in. Exiting hyperspace in three," Anakin called out in warning as he switched the autopilot off and cycled the hyperdrive down just outside of Coruscanti orbit.

As the starlines drew back into white points, the scene was quickly eclipsed by the massive gray durasteel hull of a transport cruiser. Anakin pulled up hard on the yolk to avoid the deadly collision he saw unfold in the back of his mind, seconds before it might have occurred.

The evasion put the ship in a tight barrel roll that Anakin had just barely under control. He could hear the clanging and bashing from an unsecured drawer, spilling its contents in the small lounging space where Padme was belted in. Quickly he was onto the next evasive maneuver, making a sharp dive down to dodge what seemed like a line of traffic that backed up far past what he had ever seen before.

Engaging the stabilizers and thrusters Anakin worked to slow the ship down as quickly as possible without crashing into anything or anyone. The airspace outside of orbit was littered with vessels and transports of all sizes and purposes, he could just barely see them in a blur of blackened metal and lights as he tumbled to a halt. He'd never seen such a gridlock in his entire life.

Really, it didn't even qualify as gridlock. At least then, there was a set pattern to the madness. Now, he couldn't sense any order to the chaos outside. Just before he came to a complete stop Anakin squeezed between two vessels, clipping one of them on the corner, causing the entire ship to lurch to a halt.

"Padme?" Anakin called out, as he unfastened his belt and sprinted over to the lounge area.

He could see pouches, canisters and ration bars scattered everywhere. Thankfully they didn't carry enough mass to deal a killing blow, but being pelted with them would, and did leave a mark.

"Padme, are you alright?" Anakin asked, rushing to her side where she sat clutching at her forehead with traces of blood pouring through her fingers.

"Yeah, I think I might have a concussion though," Padme answered, coherently enough to make him feel slightly better.

Anakin scrambled over to one of the secured drawers for a med kit, withdrawing some supplies to make quick work of a bandage. "Here, let me see it." He said, wrapping a spool of gauze around her head a few times until he was satisfied it would stay in place.

In the next moment he pulled all the debris up off of the floor and stowed them away with a swift motion of his hand. "I'm sorry, I forgot to secure the drawer. Are you sure you're okay? As soon as we land I'm taking you to the temple healers."

With the screeching sound of clashing durasteel, a surprise collision sent Anakin stumbling sideways a few steps. It wasn't nearly as violent as the last, and he managed to right himself without falling. "I've got to figure out what's going on, just hang tight."

"What is going on?" Padme called out hoarsely as Anakin ran back up to the helm, steadying himself again as another hit on their ship's hull threatened to knock him off his feet.

"I wish I knew." Anakin said, bewildered. Turning off the auto stabilizers he began to gently dodge ships as he worked his way to orbit, or as close as he could get to it. He could sense something was wrong on a massive scale. And it was more than the nightmarish traffic telling him so. He could feel it like black tar in his gut, and it only got worse as he neared the planet below.

Keying on his com, he tried to get ahold of the temple. All he got was the automated message saying all lines were busy due to unusually high call volumes, and to try again later. With a frustrated sigh he turned on the radio instead, tuning into one of the local news stations that broadcasted down on the surface. Due to interference from the massive sea of ships he was lodged within, it was difficult to find, and hard to hear once he did. But even still, the message was clear.

"...Nearly one hour ago three separate bombs… Senate Rotunda... Thousands of casualties and counting…" The voice said, garbled with static. Anakin felt his heart slam against his ribs.

"Chancellor Palpatine," Anakin whispered as his eyes drew tight with panic, right before the Jedi Knight and War General took hold of his mind again.

He felt his body relax and his mind clear as he willed himself to focus. It was a reflex he had honed on the battlefield, and it served him well. The pull to rush to the Chancellor's side was significant, but there was Padme to think about. Besides, he would need to get back to the temple as quickly as possible. The sick feeling in his gut still gnawed irritatingly, worsening still. He observed it with foreboding curiosity, wishing he knew what it was telling him. He supposed he would learn in time.

"All extraplanetary traffic… closed until further notice…" The voice scratched and stuttered. It made sense, and would certainly account for the sea of ships he was now nearly locked within. Thanks to his extrasensory abilities he was able to edge his way towards orbit, which now he could see was shielded off, limiting all traffic through designated security rings. As quickly as he could while safely doing so, he made his way to the nearest ring.

"Ani?" Padme said, her voice careful. She was scared, he could feel it like damp ice on his skin.

"I'm getting us planet side, to the temple." Anakin said in a sturdy reassuring tone. He began to help coax the ship along further, gently pushing the other vessels away with a touch of force.

"Do you think-"

"They're fine." Anakin answered. "And you will be, too."

"I hope so." Padme whispered. Anakin couldn't hear her, but he felt the prayer leave her lips as a flutter through the force. He pushed it along with an extra plea of his own, asking that everything would turn out alright. He was used to battles, used to feeling tumultuous losses of life sweep across horizons and battlefields. But this was home. The Jedi Knight within him told him there was no difference, but his heart knew better.

Anakin finally edged his ship to the nearest security ring and hailed the officer on the ship com, rattling off his name, rank and command as he demanded to be let through "On the Chancellor's orders," he said, knowing he might as well have had them. He knew he did in spirit. Eventually he was granted access.

Straightaway he made a beeline for the temple. It was quick to get to, since the entire district was sequestered off from the rest. No air traffic was allowed within its proximity. Thankfully his transponder codes assured no police harassed him on his way back, though it didn't appear there would have been enough to spare to begin with.

He had to hail the hangar, since the doors were locked down. On Master Windu's approval they were allowed to yield to let him in. When he landed, he saw a chaotic mass of grounded speeders and speeder bikes, some of them thrashed slightly and others in mint condition. Anakin wondered how many of them had been out and totally obliterated by the blasts, along with whoever might have been using them.

Taking Padme up in his arms, Anakin marched for the healing halls. He still felt the black tar in the pit of his stomach, only now it felt like stone. Equally eerie, as soon as he entered the medical wing he saw it nearly completely empty. They hadn't rescinded lock down to take in many injured, and there was still the threat of another straffe of bombings that had the entire district on strict lock down.

Anakin set Padme down in one of the empty med rooms and hailed a healer over to attend to her.

"They're going to take good care of you. It's the best medical care this galaxy has to offer, I promise." Anakin said. "I would stay, but-"

"You can't. You have to go and do what you Jedi do." Padme said understandingly. "Please make sure they're alright."

"They are. And I will." Anakin promised. "I'll be back when I can."

….

The front door to Obi-wan's apartment got stuck on its tracks a little less than half way open. He had called it in to be fixed over three times, but he had never been so thoroughly frustrated by it until now. His jaw ached, it felt like he was being stabbed in the side with each breath. His eyes were heavy and tired with fatigue from lack of sleep, from being drugged, from the emotional exhaustion of it all. And his front door stood on its track, nearly half way open, taunting him.

With a snarl Obi-wan wrenched the door back violently through the force, not caring if anyone saw him do it, though he suspected there were no bystanders to witness. He crunched it shut in the same manner, probably breaking it worse in the process.

Sauntering to the fresher, he tore off his clothes piece by piece, wincing each time he bent or moved his arms over head. Forcing himself into the shower he quickly washed the blood and grime off of his skin, not staying in a moment longer than necessary. After rummaging to find all the bacta he could, he smeared gobs of it on his freshly bruised sides and jaw before he promptly collapsed on the sleeper and fell fast asleep.

For the next standard rotation the only time he got up was to drink water or use the fresher. And for as deep as his sleep was, it was equally restless. A handful of times he felt himself startled awake by things he had seen and couldn't remember. Easily he wrote it off as a side effect of whatever drug he had been exposed to, coupled with the possible concussion he was suffering.

Though as his body worked to heal itself, knitting together flesh and bone where all had been broken, the vision became clearer. As his mind rested between fits of fear and wakefulness, his recall of it improved. Losely he held the vision in his mind at a distance, something in a haze on the horizon. It played on loop in the back of his mind, like a song playing in the next room over. Aware, yet unaware at the same time of its presence.

With dull eyes looking at the durasteel ceiling of his clean, scantly decorated apartment, it flashed before his eyes. He could see the blooms of bright orange-white light, feel the shock wave wash over the city through the air, through the inhabitants who gasped and cried out. He observed it with an empty, exhausted mind as he drifted off again.

This time he could smell the ash, the ozone char that hung rank in the air as hulking chunks of duracrete and sheets of metal cascaded down from the blast. The look of the place was familiar, the vats and sorting bins were broken and crumbling, but still recognizable. Wires and broken pipes spewed out sparks and torrents of caustic liquid hung overhead.

Master

He could barely hear it through the sirens and rushing sound of burst pipes. He felt it more than anything else, and it pulled at his heart painfully as he felt himself descend into near total panic. Obi-wan rushed into the crumbling recycle plant to the epicenter of the blast. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he called out, searching.

He couldn't hear his own voice over the drumming in his ears as he searched through the rubble, working his way closer to the heart of the plant. Turning another corner, he found the epicenter. Where the proton upcyclers used to be had turned to black ash and broken stone reduced to pebbles, mixed with bits of torn and warped metal strewn about from the sheer force of the explosion. Thrown out against the far wall in the mess of it all, Anakin lie mangled on the stone floor.

"Anakin!" Obi-wan screamed, wrenching his eyes open as he flew from his sleeper, crashing onto the floor.

"No, no no," he murmured, pulling himself upright with a fair amount of pain in his side. His bones felt mostly mended, thanks to a few simple self-mending force skills he had learned as a youngling, along with a scrap of bacta. The soft tissue was still far from healed. He couldn't take much more without breaking himself even worse than before, but he hardly cared about that.

With shaky, unsteady hands Obi-wan fumbled around for his com link that usually lie on his bedside table, but now it was nowhere to be found. With increasing frustration he began to tear the room apart, pulling the sheets off the mattress, shaking out each piece of clothing he could find to no avail. Maybe if he could get word to the temple in time they could help, he thought in desperation. At the very least it was the quickest action he could take in the moment, and he wouldn't be able to stand still even if he tried.

"The fresher-" Obi-wan told himself. He scrambled over to the small room where his discarded clothes lie in a heap on the far corner of the floor. Still no luck. Throwing his clothes down with a growl, he put a hand over his face in immense distress. His com had to have been taken when he was captured, it stood to reason. He would have no reason to even look for it until now. He never called anyone, and no one ever called him.

Obi-wan stomped into his bedroom again, clawing a few garments off of the floor and dressing himself. He began to head towards the front door, and paused. His chest was heaving, his ribs were complaining terribly, and bruises still covered his face. His mind burned with the imminence of what he had seen, the horror of it carved fresh into his consciousness.

Obi-wan retreated to his bedroom again, pacing the floor twice before he threw one of his dresser drawers open- the one that held his lightsaber. All this time he never once left his apartment with it in hand. He supposed it was risky to leave it unattended. If someone were to break in and use it on others, all the blood spilled would be on his hands. Even still, carrying it seemed a heavier burden. That weapon was tied to a part of his life he thought was more likely than not, over.

But apparently that assumption was wrong. After staring into the drawer for a moment Obi-wan took the saber in his damp trembling palm and clipped it to his belt before he strode back to the front door, which was hopelessly crumpled up on its track. With little patience to ease it open, Obi-wan let out a blast of force energy on its surface, punching it straight out of its frame and out into the hall.

Going to the closest door where he sensed there was someone inside to answer, he gave a loud short knock. "Hello?" Obi-wan called out, still frantic.

"Go away." The voice shouted from the other side.

"I'm sorry, I just need to borrow your com link for one minute its an emergency." Obi-wan insisted.

"Can't help ya pal." The voice shouted back.

Obi-wan contemplated kicking the door in and comondeering the com link by force, but thought better of it. With an aggravated sigh he went to the next door. Before his knuckles could meet with the cold steel, the sudden thunderous roar of a blast sounded out followed by another series of explosions.

He could tell they were close, and his heart slammed desperately against his ribs as he reached out for Anakin's presence. Obi-wan felt ill when he sensed only emptiness where his former Padawan might have been. Breaking into a cold sweat, he rushed to the lift, taking it to the top street exit as quickly as possible.

In the short ride that felt entirely too long, Obi-wan attempted to collect himself. This was the first hint of true danger since he had taken the Barash. All of those nights he spent hoping to feel useful, wanting to be needed. Now he felt a flash of resentment for wishing for anything of the sort. What if he wasn't able to make it in time? What if he arrived just soon enough to see Anakin die before his eyes?

"No," Obi-wan mumbled to himself, shaking his head briskly, running a hand down the length of his face. Now wasn't the time to start thinking that way.

The doors to the lift opened up, and immediately Obi-wan could taste the bitterness in the air from the blast. The scream of sirens wailed in the distance as a column of dark smoke rose from where the Senate rotunda was located. If it had been the recycling plant, it would have been several levels lower, and closer.

Obi-wan felt a rush of encouraging adrenaline flood his veins. He reached out for Anakin again, sensing that he wasn't dead, but simply very far away. It was often that way in war time. Now Obi-wan wondered how many times Anakin had faced such certain danger before, not wanting to know the answer.

It was the pitfall of attachment, he knew. It was dangerous to get so close. It clouded one's judgement, made you sloppy. It stole away your objectivity, made you more prone to making poor calls. Obi-wan willed himself to let go of it for the moment. He supposed it would always be that way, putting aside how he felt for the sake of the present. It would always be something to wrestle with, he knew it wasn't going away. Even after all this time without laying eyes on Anakin, his feelings hadn't dulled.

Freeing up enough mental space and energy to try and think clearly, Obi-wan headed for the next turbolift that would take him to the lower levels. Once he was close enough he leapt from the platform, hurling down in a tight roll till he landed in a crouching position. A few onlookers gasped as he rose back up and started towards the recycling plant that lie at the heart of the district. He paid them no mind. He was done hiding now, he no longer needed to pretend he was something he wasn't.

Part of himself was furious that he had allowed himself to wallow for so long. How could he protect anyone from such a distance? He tried to tell himself he was close enough, and he even believed it for a time. He didn't think he could believe it anymore. Not for one more second.