Anakin kept an uneasy eye out a partially-uncovered transparisteel window. It wasn't as easy to tell since the sun had almost set, but he thought the crowd of journalists outside had grown. The hovercams hung in groups like swarms of giant, glowing insects. A LAAT/i had arrived to pick them up, but was forced to maintain a holding pattern overhead, since the street was clogged with a throng of beings.
Making a frustrated noise, Anakin said, "All right, I'm going out there to clear us a landing space."
"You sure that's a good idea?" asked Ahsoka. Anakin was, of all possible Jedi, certainly the one they most wanted to see.
"Do you want to do it?" Ahsoka just winced in response, and he turned to Obi-Wan. His master had taken one glance out the window, but still seemed disinterestedly preoccupied. "When the ship lands, I'll make a path and I want you both through and in as quickly as possible. Master, you should wear the cloak when you come out. Don't let them see your face."
Ahsoka nodded, but Obi-Wan's gaze stayed vaguely fixed on nothing, his thumb pressing under his chin in absent habit.
"Obi-Wan?"
When Obi-Wan blinked and met his eyes, Anakin was surprised by the weight of his own relief.
"Hm? Yes, I heard you." He tugged Anakin's cloak down from where he still had it draped over his shoulder.
"Right now, the Separatists still think you're dead. That's an advantage I think we should keep as long as possible," Anakin explained. Supposedly Ventress was out of the picture if their intel was correct, but Anakin wasn't willing to bet on that, and Dooku had always had a particular, concerning interest in Obi-Wan as well.
Pulling the cloak around his shoulders, Obi-Wan gave him a perfunctory nod, like he didn't care and wasn't sure why Anakin hadn't moved on yet. Anakin was beginning to get that familiar, creeping feeling that something important had changed, but he had missed it and fallen behind, as always. Pressing into the bond got him a genuine reaction, but it was one of irritation.
"I believe your adoring fans are waiting," said Obi-Wan, the edge in his voice making Anakin bristle.
Fine.
Anakin had only two faces he ever showed to the media. One was the cocky swagger and wicked grin of the Hero With No Fear. They always ate that up, to an almost embarrassing extent. Padme had definitely replayed a few of his interviews over and over, gleefully repeating the news anchors' fawning commentary in ever-more-dramatic tones, until she almost couldn't breathe for laughing and he had to cover his face with the pillows to hide his blush.
The second face was the stone mask of a soldier meeting his enemy. They didn't like that one quite as much.
The moment Anakin cleared the clinic doorway, he stood in the middle of a blinding spotlight, the focus of a score of hovercams. He felt his scowl deepening as the journalists pressed into his space, crying out questions, each fighting to be the closest to him.
"HEY!" he shouted, voice cutting through the din like the crack of a vibrowhip.
"Jedi Skywalker, according to an official press release this morning, the 12th Sector Army is pulling out of the system! Has there been a change?" yelled a tall Gran.
"I have a statement to make." Anakin waited until they had subsided to a general murmur and then announced, "You all need to clear the street for twenty yards on either side of me. Otherwise, I am going to land a larty on your heads."
"Do you know anything about the troop movements near Kaikielius?" called someone else.
Yeah, he hadn't really expected that to work, but he'd tried to give them a chance anyway. Rocking up onto the balls of his feet, Anakin jumped.
There was an instant uproar when he seemed to vanish, disappearing from the spotlight faster than the hovercams' sensors could track. The LAAT/i above was an invisible bulk, indistinguishable from the dark sky except for the tiny navigation lights on the end of each wing. Cool air rushed past Anakin's face as he leapt upwards, flying through the night toward where the Force told him the transport waited.
His aim was true, if a little awkward. He had meant to land on top of center spine of the ship, near the cockpit, but instead came down on the edge of the starboard wing. Making his way up the wing and then down the spine to his original destination, he hailed the pilot on his comm. "Transport Five-One-Five, this is General Skywalker. Open your starboard troop hold hatch."
"Negative, General. We are still unable to land due to civilian presence."
"I didn't ask you to land. I said open the door."
"...Yes, sir."
Below him, Anakin heard the hiss of the one-person hatch being opened. He dropped over the side of the ship and down onto the grating in front of the door, but didn't step through into the ship itself.
"Should we assume that minor disturbance on our stabilizer's readout was you, General?"
Gripping one of the handholds set into the metal skin of the LAAT/i, Anakin leaned out and over the empty space, eyeing the street below. "Yep," he told the pilots. "Take us down, but do it extremely slowly."
"You got it, General."
They descended in steady lurches. Hanging out the side, Anakin watched their progress carefully. There was a limit to how slowly and how evenly a LAAT/i would be able to land like this; they were not, technically, vertical take-off and landing craft. With creative use of thruster orientation and drag fins, though, the pilot was doing a decent job of faking it.
"Hit the floodlights, Transport Five-One-Five."
Wide beams of white light instantly ripped away the blanket of night, illuminating the gunship as it dropped lower. Finally noticing the precarious position they were in, the beings in the street still spent several minutes pointing and shouting and probably taking holovid footage before deciding to actually move. When they did, though, it was fun to watch them scramble. If only the Separatists would react like that.
Of course, there were inevitably a few who tripped and fell or otherwise failed to make it out of the way in time, forcing Anakin to leap down and help them himself. It somewhat spoiled the climax of the landing.
As soon as the LAAT/i had settled onto the ground, Anakin standing between it and the clinic, the braver and more determined beings began to press back in. Casually, Anakin pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. He held it loosely, with no visible intent, the tapered blue plasma of its tip dipping toward the ground, but it was enough to make everyone freeze in place. A Jedi with a lit 'saber was not something to approach lightly.
On cue, while the street hung in that long instant of arrested immobility, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka emerged from the clinic and walked quickly to the ship, Artoo trundling at their heels. Ahsoka was unmistakable, nearly as familiar to the galactic media as Anakin, but Obi-Wan was just an indistinct figure in a cloak. Between one blink and the next they were there and gone and, as if nothing had happened, Anakin put his lightsaber away.
Bowing solemnly to the crowd, Anakin said into his comm, "Take us home, Transport Five-One-Five."
"Copy that, General."
As the LAAT/i's engines began to fire, Anakin listened to the rising hum of curiosity and intensity in the Force. Hovercams pushed forward, circling the LAAT/i and zooming over Anakin's head while the reporters themselves hesitated. Searching for what he wanted, Anakin asked the Force and heard it answer. Its whisper showed him where and then, a second later — when.
Anakin sprang toward the point the Force had given him, back-flipping up and sideways just as the gunship's thrusters fired it forward to meet his leap. In the place where nothing had been, the LAAT/i's grating was thrust under his feet, and Anakin landed just in time to grab the handrail and be swept away into the sky.
For a moment he stayed there, leaning out and letting the wind pull at his hair as the ship climbed. The pilot had killed the lights and the people below were first tiny, then indistinguishable, and then the streets themselves ceased to be streets and became abstract patterns drawn by a gigantic hand. Up ahead were the denser lights of the city center, but even those shrunk to a mere pinpoint as the LAAT/i peeled away from the planet, heading for the Star Destroyers that waited for them in the upper atmosphere.
They were finally done on Centares.
Anakin stepped back from the edge, into the warm silence of the ship's belly, and punched the door shut behind him. In their dormant position, the two retractable "bubble" turrets took up most of the floorspace in the main hold; complaining steadily, Artoo waited in the short hall that separated the front compartments from the troop hold, since the turrets were too big for him to get past. "I know, buddy, but think of it this way: you'll be the first one to get out when we land," Anakin said as he edged his way between the turrets to where Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had taken two of the stern seats.
Obi-Wan had leaned back against the wall, but lifted his head when Anakin approached. Anakin was sure he was going to chide him about a Jedi only igniting his lightsaber when he was ready to take a life, not as a crowd control glowstick, but Obi-Wan only said, "Still theatrical, I see."
Crossing his arms, Anakin spread his feet apart to keep balance on the ship's decking. He tried never to use the hand-straps if at all possible. "You know me, Master," he said, giving Obi-Wan a crooked smile.
"I thought you were kidding about action footage of us leaving," said Ahsoka.
Anakin shrugged. "You gotta make 'em look where you're not." He'd given them enough flashy footage of him backflipping to hopefully distract them from spending too much time speculating about what he had actually been doing in the Skrell District.
Ahsoka seemed to accept this. "Should I let Master Plo know we're on our way?"
"No, I'll contact the Courageous from the bridge. We'll need to coordinate with the admirals anyway."
"Should I take that to mean you're back on full duty?"
"Yes."
"Not taking Master Windu's advice, then?" Obi-Wan had closed his eyes, which didn't stop him from making inconvenient interjections.
Helpfully, Ahsoka said, "If you want, I can keep supervising—"
"I know." She had coordinated their part of the deployment, and she and Rex were more than able to look after the 501st for an uneventful day or two in hyperspace, but these were his responsibilities, and Anakin had things he needed to do as well. Wasting valuable downtime didn't sit well with him, and he eyed Obi-Wan. "We'll see what Neo says."
Ahsoka made a face like she was impressed he had ceded even that much control, but she was laying it on a little thick. Anakin, as he had said earlier, was perfectly reasonable. Partially out of annoyance and partially because he thought it might tempt Obi-Wan to comment, Anakin began quizzing Ahsoka about what she knew of their deployment orders. What kind of planet was Cartao? What were its resources, and who controlled it? What resistance were they likely to expect?
Unfortunately, she didn't have much information, the detailed orders having come in when she was busy babysitting him at the clinic. Obi-Wan stayed quiet, as if he had fallen asleep against the bulkhead, even though Anakin could sense the opaque movement of his thoughts. Unsuccessful all around. Letting the useless line of questioning drop, Anakin stood and tried to center himself.
He was always trying to outrun his emotions — it seemed like half the time they shot straight to his body, translated into frenetic movement before they ever even made an appearance in his brain. Why did he feel like things were spiraling out of control now, when everything seemed to be going right? Why did he feel so urgent, like he was on some kind of a countdown?
His time with Obi-Wan was counting down, of course. He had a few days and, after they elapsed, who knew when they would see each other again? But — why would this be a source of disquiet? There was no pressing danger, no duty left unfulfilled... was there? He had started feeling this uneasiness after signing off with Master Windu. You apologized, Obi-Wan had said.
Anakin's racing thoughts stilled. His rigid posture relaxed slightly. What had he spent all this time telling himself he would do if he had his master back? He hadn't done it yet. He had two days.
Alighting inside the Resolute, their transport was met by no one but the hangar's chief technician. All the other LAAT/is and transports and fighters were locked down and dormant, all the men off-shift or assigned to the maintenance and prep tasks that would keep them busy in hyperspace — the expectant, poised hum of a Star Destroyer between missions. They had probably been waiting, ready to launch, all day.
By the time Anakin's boot touched the decking, a flow of purpose had drowned the anxiety trying to take root. "We have to go to the medbay," said Anakin, when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka followed him. "After that, the bridge. Snips, will you find Rex and meet me there?" Rex might already be on the bridge, but since they had had to wait for so long, he could be anywhere.
"Assuming you mean the bridge and not the medbay, yeah, sure."
They exchanged a routine set of expressions, one unimpressed and one full of wide-eyed innocence, and then Ahsoka left for the turbolift across the hangar. Artoo caught up with her, warbling, and she said, "Sure, Artoo, of course you can come. Think you could plug into one of these ports and find Rex for me?"
When Anakin gestured at the nearer turbolift and moved toward it, though, Obi-Wan delayed. "Anakin, I really would prefer to rest," he said. "I seem to remember saying something about a shower. Surely we could visit the medbay a little later?"
"It's only going to take a minute, Master. We really should do this first, just in case."
"Just in case, what, my frail constitution gives out and I suddenly collapse?" Obi-Wan said scathingly, as if Anakin were being irrational and overbearing.
"Just in case," Anakin repeated, trying not to be sharp in response. "Besides, our medbay needs to collect a file on you to send to the Temple. We're not going to just drop you off like, 'Something of medical note has obviously happened to this Jedi — have fun guessing what, Master Che!'"
"I think I can probably relate my own experiences to the healers."
Obi-Wan was veering from what he'd originally said, tone still argumentative, and Anakin's jaw tightened in frustration. Obi-Wan had never been one to fight fair, so maybe these were just maneuvers, part of the campaign to avoid going to the medbay, but on the other hand, Anakin couldn't just dismiss the possibility that something was still wrong. "So you remember absolutely everything, then?" he shot back.
"I remember," said Obi-Wan, bracing his forehead with one hand, "too much."
Startled, Anakin let the silence lie, quieting the air and their bond until he could breathe it in. He listened to the tiny eddies of the Force, like faint notes of music just beyond the edge of his hearing. Obi-Wan had asked to rest. That in and of itself was remarkable. When he spoke, it was only to say, "Please, Master."
The look Obi-Wan gave him was oddly unguarded, like he couldn't make sense of anything he was seeing.
Even more gently, Anakin said, "I promise, nobody's going to mess with you. Just take some vitals. That's all. Please?"
Still gazing at Anakin as if trying to see him through a fog, Obi-Wan dropped his hand. He sighed. "Fine."
The medbay was twelve decks up. In the turbolift, Obi-Wan braced himself against the wall and said nothing, his arms crossed under the cloak he still wore. The whole ride, Anakin grappled with himself. He wanted to touch Obi-Wan — push away whatever was clouding his master's thoughts with his presence — but Obi-Wan had never really been in favor of what he would have called Anakin's "clinginess." With the way he was holding himself apart, like it took all his concentration, Anakin was afraid to chance it.
Instead, he tried to compromise, staying in his own space, but leaning into the bond. It was a move both riskier and less risky — rejection was less likely, but a rejection would be worse.
"I'm fine, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, voice still sharp, but he opened himself to Anakin's prodding, and Anakin did not miss the way his master's body relaxed slightly when the Force began to flow between them.
With only a hint of smugness, Anakin said, "Yeah, me too."
Obi-Wan was no less exasperated, but Anakin didn't mind. He felt how Obi-Wan leaned on him in the Force, even as he kept physically distant on the walk to the medbay. They passed several medical technicians in tense discussions over a holotable, but for the most part the place was still. For the next several days it would remain that way, but soon Anakin knew they would be up to their ears in the wounded and dying. The thought was tiring.
Neo wasn't in his office, but with a quick Force probe Anakin was able to locate him in one of the supply rooms with another clone, a corporal. "General, I'm glad to see you made it back." To the corporal, he said, "Finish up here, and then report to me in my office."
"Yes, Commander."
Nodding at Anakin and Obi-Wan, Neo asked, "What can I do for you, General?"
"Just looking for a basic physical check-up, Commander. And to, uh, finalize a report on that slave implant, if you've got a minute."
"Of course. Follow me."
Neo didn't seem surprised, or ask who Obi-Wan was, or say anything more. He just led them to a private cube in the main bay, picking up a datapad along the way. Clearly sensing that Obi-Wan didn't want to engage with this experience any more than necessary, Anakin didn't introduce him or make him talk. Inside the patient cube, a medical droid was sitting dormant in front of a table.
Obi-Wan sighed.
"We are not equipped to be able to do any in-depth neurological tests or scans," Neo warned. "The most I'll be able to determine is whether there is any obvious physical damage."
"That's fine. Just a general health check, and maybe a tox screen?" Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, obviously of the opinion that a tox screen was excessive, but Anakin only shrugged back at him. "I mean, you know Ventress, Master. Better safe than sorry."
As Neo activated the medical droid and gave it instructions, Obi-Wan leaned back against the table. "Oh, I'm already sorry."
"If it makes you feel any better, next time I can leave you where I find you," said Anakin, while drowning the bond in the exact opposite thought. There would never be a next time, and Anakin would never leave his master. Obi-Wan might be exhausted, confused, annoyed, and being enigmatically prickly, but he was here. He was fighting a losing battle if he thought he could provoke Anakin into bickering at this point.
"You did give me that option," Obi-Wan mused, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Anakin caught a glimpse of sun-glare on sand, and of a woman's back in a green tunic, but couldn't guess what he was remembering.
"Yes, I did, so you're going to have to suck it up and face the consequences."
"Good evening," said the med droid. "Please have a seat and I will begin your health scan."
Obi-Wan stared it down like an opponent in a duel. "I would prefer to stand."
"Very well. Please raise one arm."
"Oh kriff," Anakin stage-whispered, faking a gasp. "I think it's going to measure your blood pressure."
Narrowing his eyes at Anakin and Neo, who was observing with politely veiled interest, Obi-Wan said, "Don't you have some business to discuss?"
Anakin crossed his arms, shrugging again. Neo took his datapad out from where he'd tucked it under his arm, palming it open, but Anakin didn't look away until the droid had begun its examination. When he turned to the waiting commander, Anakin was reminded suddenly that he had promised to follow up with Kamino about the next generation of armor. Force, there was so much to do. He felt close to losing track of everything.
Pulling the OEI reader from its place in one of his belt pockets, Anakin held it out. "Can we gather all the info we have about the implant and transmit it to the Jedi Temple?"
"Not a problem." Neo quickly transferred the entry from the mapper to his datapad. "I'll compile it with the results of this scan. Is there any other medical data you have? Anything from the removal procedure? Did you happen to preserve the implant itself?"
"Sithspit," hissed Anakin, kicking himself. How obvious, and yet it hadn't even crossed his mind at the time to save the implant. "No, I didn't."
"Likely it doesn't matter, but we can send a request to the clinic that performed the procedure just to cover our bases."
"Uh..." Trying to imagine what Irenia would think about receiving such a requisition from the GAR made Anakin wince. He also found that he couldn't remember the name of the clinic, even though he knew he had heard it at one point.
Eyeing him, Neo said, "I'll have it taken care of. There was some kind of media commotion there, I understand, so it should be easy enough. I'll need at least a general account of what happened, though."
"Yeah, of course. I'll be making my own report too, obviously."
In a quiet voice, Anakin filled Neo in on the situation. He gave a sketchy description of how Obi-Wan had been presumed dead, Anakin's suspicions of the torture he'd experienced, and what he had learned about Obi-Wan's amnesia. He tried to dwell more on the surgery to remove the implant, and what Obi-Wan had experienced during the procedure, with Neo asking occasional clarifying questions. Some Anakin could answer, and some he couldn't. It really would have been better for Obi-Wan to give this account himself, but the way he was just barely restraining himself from dismantling the med droid with his bare hands hinted that that wasn't such a good idea.
When the droid announced that it had finished its exam, Obi-Wan said sharply, "Thank the Force."
"Results?" demanded Neo.
"Adult human male, physically and cognitively responsive, but underweight and moderately malnourished," reported the droid cheerfully. "Tox screen clean. Blood pressure slightly elevated, signs of muscle damage. Recommend increasing calorie intake according to graduated schedule C-51F, vitamin supplement B1, vitamin supplement B2, vitamin supplement B3—"
"Yes, thank you. Send your findings to the main computer." Neo cut off what was certain to be a lengthy recitation. "General Kenobi, we can begin the process of correcting your nutrition immediately, but beyond that, I don't think we are qualified to comment on any possible impact you may experience from the implant removal. How do you feel?"
"Fine," said Obi-Wan. "Immediately after waking everything seemed... chaotic, but I think at the moment things are where they should be. Physically, I don't notice anything in particular, except that I am extremely tired."
The way Obi-Wan replied, frank and honest, had Anakin double-taking. Oh, sure, Neo got the full rundown when he asked, but whenever Anakin expressed any kind of concern it was met with various shades of frosty hostility.
"And how is your experience of the Force?"
Obi-Wan gave Neo a questioning look, as if wondering why he would ask when it wasn't likely he would understand the answer. "It is— uneven. Sometimes I feel that I can barely access the Force, and sometimes it is overwhelming and far too strong."
Neo nodded, making a note on his datapad.
"You never told me that," Anakin accused.
"You didn't ask, Anakin," said Obi-Wan tolerantly, like he was speaking to a child. "Are we done here?"
"Yes," Neo answered. "I'll have these compiled and sent to Coruscant for the Jedi Healers."
"Thank you," said Anakin.
Still addressing Obi-Wan, Neo quickly went over the food habits he wanted him to follow for the next several days until they reached the Temple, eating a base amount of calories in small increments throughout the day. The macronutrient balance was specific too, but Jedi were thoroughly educated on how to care for and strengthen their bodies, and Anakin knew the guidelines were quite familiar to Obi-Wan. Neo also warned against overexertion.
"Even if you feel normal, keep in mind that your body has been through a massive shock. You will likely not have the energy reserves you are used to having," he said, reminding Anakin of something he was supposed to ask.
"Oh, by the way — I'm cleared for duty, right?"
The automatic, obvious answer Anakin had expected didn't come, as Neo surveyed him steadily for a long minute. "You don't need my permission to return to your post, General, but if you're asking for my recommendation — you should rest."
"But I feel fine!"
Shrugging like it wasn't any of his affair, Neo said, "How was the come-down from the stim shot?"
Anakin hesitated.
"We are about to launch a massive assault that may not let up for months. Jedi powers notwithstanding, I doubt very much that you are fully recovered because you took one nap. As our general, we rely on you having access to all your abilities and judgment when you lead us in battle. Why not take the rare chance to rest, when you have no idea when you will get another?" asked Neo. "I promise you, it's what the men are doing."
While this was obviously a well-crafted bit of manipulation, Anakin couldn't deny that it also made solid sense. His list of things to do was still piling up and he hated to just waste time when he felt all right, but... he had told Ahsoka he would consult Neo.
"Yes, Anakin," said Obi-Wan, eyes bright with mischief. "Just in case."
Overpowering the smile that wanted to fill him from the inside out, Anakin scowled at his master instead. He mimicked Obi-Wan's voice from earlier, saying, "Fine."
When they left the medbay, Anakin reminded himself that he still had to get in touch with Shaak Ti. He also needed to talk to Ahsoka about several things. And type up his report of everything that had happened in the last few days. And... he really needed to talk to Obi-Wan. He hadn't had much of a chance to yet, but he knew he couldn't let Obi-Wan fly away without doing it.
But what would he say? Thinking about it after Obi-Wan's death, everything he wanted to say to his master, everything he should have said but never did, had seemed so clear and obvious. While drifting off to sleep, he had filled his head with the imaginary conversations they would have, if only he could see Obi-Wan one more time. Now, Anakin snuck looks at Obi-Wan as they walked side by side, and couldn't even begin to distill what he was feeling into words.
In trying, the urge to reach out was tinged with a contradictory instinct to hide, shrink back. Each sentence he built seemed meaningless and clumsy, like something he would have said as a stupid teenager. He couldn't shake the vision of trying to speak, every word coming out wrong, and Obi-Wan silently watching him with eyebrows raised, nothing but contempt on his face.
When had he ever been afraid of Obi-Wan? Anakin remembered storing up a lot of anger against his master, but fear?
Now wasn't the time, anyway. Obi-Wan had made it pretty clear that he wanted to be done participating in life for the day, so Anakin would have time to think.
"I have to go to the bridge, Master. I'm assuming you don't want to come—"
Firmly, Obi-Wan said, "If I don't get to shower in the next ten minutes, I may have to hurt someone."
Anakin laughed. "That's what I thought."
The officers' quarters were on an upper deck on the way to the bridge, so it was easy enough to stop there first. Where the enlisted men slept in barracks, individual cabins were provided for the officers, and any occasional state passengers. Each one was tiny and identical, practically just enough room for a bunk and a sonic 'fresher the size of a closet.
Picking one of the unoccupied ones, Anakin palmed the door open.
"No print key?" observed Obi-Wan, but Anakin shook his head.
"This is my ship, Master. All the doors open for me."
"I see."
"But this is an unassigned room. Put your hand against it, and it should accept your print. Then I can confirm it for you. My room is down there—" he pointed "—and Ahsoka's is here."
The bio pad registered Obi-Wan's handprint, and blinked green momentarily after Anakin put in a code, making the room Obi-Wan's for the moment.
"Everything you need should be there," said Anakin, talking from nervous energy now. "Unless you need more clothes, then I have some more you can use. And I'll be around. I guess you can't comm me since you don't have a comm, but I'll probably be in my room, after I get back from the bridge obviously, for the next—"
His words dried up when Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, leaving him blinking and sucking in a long breath. Just hours ago he had been practically holding Obi-Wan, so why did that slight pressure feel so profound?
"The odds are high that I will survive the night without you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a tired smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "Thank you."
"Yeah, sure, of course." Anakin ducked his head, but when Obi-Wan went to step away, he couldn't help but blurt, "Master?"
"Anakin?" said Obi-Wan in the same tone, cocking an eyebrow at him expectantly.
The teasing made Anakin smile, just a little. "Nothing. I just— I'm glad you're here. I missed you."
"Me too, Anakin," said Obi-Wan softly. He didn't say what, exactly, he was agreeing with, but he smiled back. "Goodnight."
"Night."
On his way to the bridge, Anakin checked the bond every couple of seconds. He wasn't obtrusive or anything — just running back over it in the Force, making sure it was still there. The main command bridge was at the top of the ship's starboard tower, so it was a long turbolift ride. The fighter control bridge was up there too, on the other tower, but Anakin had only been there a few times in all the long months he'd spent on the Resolute. During space battles, there was no point in being at fighter control when you could be in a fighter instead.
The command bridge, on the other hand, was so familiar he barely bothered to register it. Ahsoka and Rex stood with their backs to the central holotable, Ahsoka leaning against it and talking animatedly. No doubt she was narrating a colorful and mildly biased version of what had gone down planetside. Beyond them, he spotted Yularen on the walkway overseeing the crew pits; the panoramic viewport was already streaked with the elongated starbursts of hyperspace.
"We launched?"
Rex straightened slightly as he approached. Ahsoka did not.
"Yep!" Reaching behind herself with one elbow, Ahsoka jogged the holotable, activating its display. "We're on our way to Cartao. Master Plo left this transmission for you, and there's the recorded campaign notes from the Council. They planned a strategy meeting for tomorrow afternoon over hyperwave holo."
"All right. Thanks, Snips." Anakin had expected them to wait for him, but there was no need, really, and he hadn't yet revoked Ahsoka's temporary command.
"How is Master Kenobi?"
"Fine," said Anakin. "He's supposed to take it easy."
"Mm. That sounds like a great idea," said Ahsoka significantly.
He eyed her. "Yes, you can keep command — for now. I'm just going to make sure I'm up on everything and then I'm heading back down."
"What, really?"
"That's sixty credits you owe me now, sir," said Rex.
While Ahsoka made outraged noises and tried to argue the bet over some technicality, Anakin rolled his eyes and decided for once to be the mature one. He looked over their route, and studied the briefing information they had been given on the planet Cartao. It seemed like a pretty soft target, mostly just a preemptive move to get behind the Separatist supply lines and cut them off, and also secure the planet's resources before the main campaign. That would start when they struck inward at the Core Worlds that had become Separatist strongholds.
Fighting near the Core would be easier, in some ways, since they wouldn't have to worry about being far from resupply or reinforcements; it would also be extremely high-stakes, since most Core Worlds were densely populated, and any serious tactical mistake could endanger the very heart of the Republic. The campaign plan itself had undergone some changes since the last time he'd worked on it. He would have to take a closer look at those before tomorrow's meeting — but not now, Anakin told himself. He had said he would rest, although he couldn't help but wonder if Neo really understood how many responsibilities rested on his shoulders.
After checking in with Yularen and finding everything as it should be, Anakin made his way back to Ahsoka. "All good?" she asked, aiming for flippancy. It didn't quite cover the tiny sliver of anxiety Anakin could sense lurking beneath her outward confidence. Would he find something wrong with her arrangements during the withdrawal, or the launch?
"Perfect," he said. "About the campaign—"
"It looks like a massive one. Is this what you've been working on with the Council?"
"Some of it. When we get to Cartao, Obi-Wan is going to take a transport and head to Coruscant. My plan is to send you with him."
Surprised, Ahsoka frowned. "Are you sure? You might need me on this one."
"Probably," Anakin agreed, "but this assault is going to last more than a few days. You'll probably be back before we even get into the thick of it. The thing is, given the state of the Inner Rim these days, getting to Coruscant might be a little more complicated than usual. I want you to take a look at the charts and start thinking about the best routes."
"You got it, Master. Can we take the Twilight?"
Anakin hadn't really thought about it, but that was as good an idea as any. The freighter's anonymity would probably make them as safe as any weapon. "Sure, why not? But that means—"
"I know! I'll give it so much TLC, it'll be the best-running ship in our fleet."
"I'd like to see that," said Anakin, grinning. That old bucket of bolts had gotten them out of countless sticky situations and he had upgraded it far past its original specs, but it would never be able to match any of their military ships. "All right, I'm going. See you later, Snips."
"Hey, Master?"
"Yeah?" Anakin paused.
Gingerly, like she might be treading on forbidden ground, Ahsoka said, "Master Kenobi said something earlier about knowing where his lightsaber is? ...It's the one Ventress uses, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's not a problem, though. I'm gonna get it back."
Doubt prickled in the Force between them. "Well, if she's betrayed the Separatists, we might not see her again."
Anakin shook his head. "I don't believe that. Do you?" When Ahsoka just shrugged, he added, "My instincts tell me that we haven't seen the last of her."
"If you say so, Master."
It was a fight to shake free of the hatred that filled Anakin's lungs and drowned him whenever he thought of Ventress and her sneer and her taunts, but on his way back down to the officers' quarters, he did it. Anakin had done it many, many times since Obi-Wan's death. He still remembered the first time after Jabiim seeing her face-to-face on the battlefield. Oh dear, she had said. All on your own now, Skywalker?
He had thought she was talking about his recent knighting, until she smiled at him and ignited her 'sabers. The one in her forehand had been her usual weapon, burning crimson with a curved handle, but the other had been blue. In an instant, all of Anakin's focus had narrowed to a single point, his ears deafened by a silent roar. He would recognize that lightsaber anywhere. His bones knew its hum.
That day had almost been a disaster for both of them — he had nearly killed her, but she had succeeded in drawing him away from the main battle. By the time he realized what was happening, it had been almost too late to save his men. Almost. Anakin had pulled out a last-minute victory at great cost by walking away from Ventress, and from Obi-Wan's lightsaber, and from his revenge. It had felt almost like losing Obi-Wan again, and he had thought perhaps the agony would burn his heart up into dust.
Since then, he had faced the same choice again and again. Refocusing was still a struggle, but by now it was also a habit. Ventress still had Obi-Wan's 'saber, but Anakin could wait. He knew that she wasn't meant to have it. The Force would send it back to its rightful owner. It was only a matter of time and, now that he had Obi-Wan back, nothing Ventress did could touch him anyway.
Reclaiming the lightsaber would just be a nice surprise for his master.
Stopping briefly outside Obi-Wan's door, Anakin only leaned into the bond a little to find Obi-Wan peacefully present. If he wasn't asleep yet, he was nearly there. Anakin moved on to his own cabin and didn't encroach any further.
When the door hissed shut behind him, Anakin toggled the lights to sixty percent. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed, eyeing his bunk. It was a mess, the sheets and blankets tucked in according to Jedi discipline, but parts of a half-deconstructed droid motivator strewn over the top. He really didn't feel like sleeping. On a normal night, he wouldn't have even considered going to bed for hours, if he slept at all.
But he had said he would rest.
Scooping up the motivator parts, Anakin moved them across the room to the desk he used as a makeshift workbench. He checked some of the smaller pieces, looking for something suitable for Ahsoka, but there was nothing really fitting. He would have to go through his drawers of spare parts, and maybe check in with maintenance if he had nothing here that would work...
He hesitated.
Maybe he could compromise. Just lying down could be considered rest — no one had said he had to actually sleep. He would use the time to make a list of everything he had to do, and if he still didn't feel tired after that was done, he would get up. That way he had given it an honest try, right? If he genuinely wasn't going to be able to sleep, even Neo would agree there was no point in wasting that time doing nothing.
He took off his boots and lined them up at the foot of the bed, but didn't bother changing out of anything else. Anakin dropped onto his bunk, lying on his back, and had to admit it did feel good to at least get off his feet. Spinning his comm to the inside of his wrist, he held it up in front of his face and made a numbered list. He pondered the next couple of days and what would need to be done for the upcoming campaign, and the things he had put off doing over the past day or so, both personal tasks and military ones.
Anakin jotted seven things down easily, but was asleep before he could add an eighth.
He slept like a rock. There was no hazy dozing, just a slumber so deep and complete that it was like death. He knew nothing, no dream or sound or sensation, until he found himself suddenly on the floor. Anakin's elbow slammed painfully into the deck and he landed awkwardly on his arm, coming wildly awake in one moment where he had no idea who or where he was.
The lights were still on, and everything hurt.
Rolling over and half-sitting, Anakin could only squint at his comm in dazed confusion. It was a few hours into the ship's night cycle. He had no messages. What did that mean? His head pounded, an awful pressure behind his eyes, like before, when he woke up with Obi-Wan, and his body thrilled with adrenaline.
What—?
Alarm ripped through the Force, a silent cry from somewhere nearby, and Anakin scrambled to his feet. He tasted darkness and terror in the bond and, faster than conscious thought, he was running. Lightsaber alive and hissing in his hand even though he didn't remember summoning it, Anakin burst into a room down the hall, teeth bared, ready to kill whatever Sith thought they could attack someone on his ship— but there was nothing.
Anakin stood, blinking numbly. His 'saber dipped toward the floor, its uneven blue glow and the light from the doorway illuminating a room completely empty, except for Obi-Wan. His master lay on the bunk, the sheets tangled and torn off, clearly asleep but taut with distress. He had stripped down to an undershirt and pants, but sweat matted his hair, and his breath came in panicked gasps. It took a long, long minute before Anakin's sluggish brain put together what his eyes were seeing with what he could feel in the Force, connecting the pieces to come to an obvious conclusion.
Obi-Wan was having a nightmare.
Extinguishing his lightsaber, Anakin stumbled to the bunk and grabbed Obi-Wan's arm and shoulder. "Master," he said, shaking him slightly. "Master, wake up!"
A grip as hard as durasteel trapped his wrist, twisting it sharply and yanking Anakin down with leverage that strained his shoulder in its socket. Before he could even exclaim in surprise, Obi-Wan struck out in a practiced move and caught Anakin right in the face with a closed fist.
"Kriff!" Reeling back, Anakin clapped a hand to his cheek and ran his tongue over his teeth. He didn't think there was any blood. His 'saber hilt had gone flying across the room somewhere, and he called it back into his hand, eyeing Obi-Wan warily. He clipped it onto his belt, deciding not to try the same approach again. "Master," he said, and then louder, "Master."
There was no response. Still trapped in the horror of his dream, Obi-Wan couldn't hear him. Anakin sighed. He took a deep breath, and then opened his side of the bond. In an overwhelming rush, he amplified every impulse to the pitch of a scream and then dumped everything down the link at once.
Obi-Wan came sputtering awake, as if Anakin had splashed cold water over him. Blind with confusion, he propped himself up on one elbow. "Wh— Anakin?"
"That's me," said Anakin. His head had already been throbbing, and being punched hadn't helped at all with that. Bending down, he tried not to groan like an eighty-year-old as he picked up the blankets that had been thrown from the bunk.
Groggy, his mind still echoing with shadows, Obi-Wan said, "Anakin. She said you were dead."
Anakin shut the door. "Not dead. Just punched in the face."
"Oh." Obi-Wan cleared his throat, a soft sound in the darkness. "Good."
When he sat down on the side of the bunk, Obi-Wan's fingers circled his wrist again, this time gently. His skin was clammy, and Anakin could feel the almost imperceptible way he was trembling. Sometime soon, when he had more brain to spare, Anakin was going to spend a lot of time thinking about what he had sensed — fear and anger, mixed in that particular, familiar, tempting way, from Obi-Wan? Impossible. Maybe exhaustion was making him hallucinate.
"I never punched you in the face during a nightmare," said Anakin as he draped the blankets around his shoulders as if they were a cape.
"Because I kept a guard up," Obi-Wan murmured.
Lifting his arms, the blankets hanging down like bat wings, Anakin pitched forward and trapped Obi-Wan under one wing. He found a position where they were both under the sheets, one of Obi-Wan's legs under his, and his arm slung across his master's chest. Anakin's eyes fell closed again easily. They had never really wanted to open in the first place, and he could feel sleep still hovering nearby, waiting to engulf him.
Ineffectually, Obi-Wan's hand pressed against Anakin's shoulder. "I don't think crushing me is helping much, Anakin."
"Yeah, well I don't think punching me in the face was very helpful either," muttered Anakin, the words slurred against Obi-Wan's shirt. "Shut up, Master. Go back to sleep."
He heard the quiet thud of Obi-Wan's head dropping back against the pillow, and then a noise his master made that sounded like, "Ugh."
Already half-drowsing, Anakin yawned and stretched luxuriously into the bond. Obi-Wan was unsettled in the Force, mind churning like the waters of a lake during a storm, but he accepted Anakin's touch. When he breathed, Anakin felt the rise and fall of Obi-Wan's chest as if it were his own. In minutes they were both asleep, darkness driven away by the beat of their hearts in sync.