Setting his 'saber on the pile with the rest of his things, Anakin asked, "So, what's with the water bottles?"
Obi-Wan opened his hand, palm facing toward the last bottle in line. A slight push in the Force moved it toward Anakin. "Just evaluating my control." He moved the next bottle up, filling the empty spot. "At this point, I might be able to win a push-feather match against a sixth-year youngling."
Experimentally, Anakin reached into the Force himself and began to slide the bottle back across the mat toward his master. He could feel it when Obi-Wan resisted, the water inside sloshing wildly, pressed on either side by opposing energies. Obi-Wan's warm presence was distinct in the Force, but the fractured nature of his power was obvious as he tested it against Anakin's.
Anakin remembered experiencing his master's mental rebuff as a solid wall, but this was uneven — like a wave, swelling and then ebbing. Obi-Wan was clearly concentrating in order to match Anakin's push, and still not gaining any ground. Gathering the Force a little tighter, Anakin thrust against him. When Obi-Wan's resistance cracked and then shattered, dissolving like sand, he sat back, shocked. The pressure hadn't even been that strong.
The bottle toppled, rolling end-over-end until it came to rest against Obi-Wan's knee.
His short huff was equal parts resignation and scorn. With deliberate care, he lifted it once again with the Force, placing it back into line. Anakin didn't know what his face was doing, but clearly it was something that Obi-Wan felt needed a response.
"It's not the Force," he explained, sighing. "It's my control. My focus. I can't maintain the clarity — the singleness of mind. Not for long."
Of course he couldn't. He'd been cut off from the Force for so long, his mind trained to automatically block out even the knowledge of its existence. This was obvious, but still...
Obi-Wan had always lived within in the Force in a way it seemed to Anakin that only a few Jedi did. If there was one thing he had to say that Obi-Wan truly loved, it was the Force. Moving water bottles was the kind of frivolous exercise you would get lectured for. Not something that should require this level of effort from Obi-Wan. It seemed... wrong.
"It'll come back, Master. Time, remember?"
"You did it with your hand," said Obi-Wan. "I was impressed at how quickly you acclimated to your prosthetic, but it wasn't a... pleasant process."
Hunching forward, Anakin rested his elbows on his knees. He could feel Obi-Wan's quiet touch on the bond and knew that this was his master acknowledging the holorecording, showing that everything was all right. "The war was on. I didn't have time to waste." He gave Obi-Wan a crooked smile. "I'm guessing you'll be a little more patient than I was, though."
Obi-Wan made a fist, and one of the empty bottles crumpled into a lump of ruined cast-plast. "Maybe only a little."
Anakin tried to grin, but coiled nerves formed a pit in his stomach. Now, he thought. Obi-Wan had literally given him an opening. They couldn't just move on from the holo like this, move on from their past life together, sweeping everything under the rug unsaid. Now was the time.
But he waited too long.
"Anakin," said Obi-Wan carefully, "when did you start studying Vaapad?"
"Huh? Never." He wiped his sweaty palms on his knees. "I don't mess with that skefta."
The look Obi-Wan gave him was as dry as the Dune Sea. "You just spontaneously invented a move that happened to be a preexisting Vaapad move, then?"
It took him a second to figure out what Obi-Wan was referencing. Mentally walking back through the duels, he didn't think he had used any Vaapad... Oh. When he'd slipped into that dark fugue during the first match — that second tag he'd gotten on Ahsoka had been a Swift Flank attack. He hadn't even thought about it.
"That... was a mistake," said Anakin. "I did it just kind of on instinct."
"You can't use a move that you don't know 'on instinct.'"
"I've never studied Vaapad, Master. But you can't spar Master Windu every Centaxday and learn nothing."
A hint of severity had crept into Obi-Wan's tone, as if he thought Anakin was lying to him, but it melted away almost instantly. "Master Windu invited you to spar?" he asked, faintly surprised.
"Yeah. He said he needed a partner, since you weren't there anymore. We hardly ever get to lately, since neither of us are at the Temple very much. But I'm going to beat him one of these days."
Obi-Wan smiled a little. "Qui-Gon used to spar Master Windu every Centaxday, whenever he was on Coruscant. They were good friends."
"So... when he died—?"
"That was when Master Windu invited me to take his place."
Eyes wide, Anakin wondered why he had never known that. Obi-Wan had always had an appointment to spar Master Windu on that day, for as long as he could remember. He had never said anything about it being Qui-Gon's, and when it had fallen to Anakin... That offer had been an extended hand of some kind, he realized. Some kind of symbol of the friendship and esteem that Master Windu and Qui-Gon had shared, that he continued to care for Qui-Gon's lineage. Anakin hadn't had a clue what was going on that day.
"I felt like a youngling trying to wear my master's shoes," said Obi-Wan absently, more to himself than anyone else.
Thinking about when Ahsoka had first been assigned to him, Anakin could empathize. He had been barely holding himself together, so how was he supposed to teach someone else? At first, he'd been convinced that Master Yoda must have somehow lost his mind. And Ahsoka had been practically self-sufficient, mostly a Jedi already. She just needed some occasional advice and direction.
What would he have done with a nine-year-old child — one who didn't even know how to touch the Force?
Anakin took a long, slow breath. He forced his hands to relax from the tight fists they had formed, and pressed them flat against the mats beneath him.
"Hey, uh, Master? Can I talk to you about something?"
Watching Obi-Wan's gaze sharpen on him as his thoughts returned to the present, Anakin was poised to steadily sidestep any amount of deflection. Obi-Wan would say something like, you seem to be doing that already, but Anakin was prepared. Focused. He wasn't going to be distracted by sarcasm or teasing.
He wasn't ready for Obi-Wan to look at him and say sincerely, "You know you don't have to use that title anymore."
Anakin's mouth opened and closed. "What if I want to, though?" he said, once he found words.
"It's not even accurate. We're both knights," observed Obi-Wan.
Up until this moment, Anakin had somehow managed to avoid registering that he and Obi-Wan were of equal kriffing rank. Hearing it stated was like taking an electrostaff to the ribcage. He felt like his heart might explode, like all his insides had been scrambled.
"I know— that," said Anakin, trying not to sound defensive and mostly failing.
"It's a habit, I know." Obi-Wan's tone was solemn, but his eyes were bright with amusement as he leaned back on his hands. "But you can call me by my name."
Anakin genuinely did not know if he could handle that. "If you say so, Master."
Obi-Wan's grin was a there-and-gone flash of mirth. Anakin braced himself for a serious ribbing, but Obi-Wan only asked gently, "What was it you wanted to say, Anakin?"
"I just—" He didn't know what he wanted to say. Sighing explosively, Anakin raked a hand through his hair.
Why did Obi-Wan make everything so hard?
Anakin tried not to broadcast on his face and in the Force, but the way Obi-Wan quickly shifted towards concern hinted that he wasn't exactly impassive. Obi-Wan sat up, frowning and moving the water bottles out from between them with a sweep of his arm. "Is something wrong?"
The words to say what he wanted were never going to come perfectly. Best to just start at the beginning.
"I just want to tell you — Master, I'm sorry."
Before Anakin could say anything else, Obi-Wan had already begun shaking his head. "Anakin. You don't need to—"
"No, I have—"
"I know we've already had this conversation—"
"Obi-Wan, no, listen to me," Anakin insisted. "Please."
A single eyebrow lifted to acknowledge Anakin's use of his first name. Much-harassed, Obi-Wan spread his hands in defeat. "All right, if you really must. Let's hear it."
Anakin took a deep breath. "I do need to say I'm sorry, Master. A lot of the time... most of the time, I wasn't the padawan I should have been. I failed you."
"By allowing me to be captured, yes, I remember," said Obi-Wan, who still, apparently, wasn't ready to listen. "You must know that was in no way your fault, and I would never—"
"I'm sorry I blamed you for my mom's death."
Obi-Wan flinched back at that, words dying on his tongue.
His presence vanished from the bond, shields as thick as titanium slicing through their connection, and the Force went cold. With that one sentence, it was as if Anakin had sucked all the oxygen out of the room.
Ducking his head, Anakin stared at his own palms, one skin and bone and the other leather-wrapped metal. Clawing fear threatened to choke him, but it was too late to back down now. He had to finish what he'd begun.
"You didn't have anything to do with my mom dying. I know that. I knew it back then, too. I was just angry, and I wanted someone to blame. I—" He shook his head. He could talk and rationalize forever about why he'd done what he did, but this wasn't about him. "Lashing out at you instead of facing my own grief was wrong, and immature, and selfish, and cruel. I'm so sorry."
For a long time, Obi-Wan said nothing.
When Anakin dredged up the courage to peek through his bangs, the bruised distance in Obi-Wan's eyes was jarring. His first thought was fear: Perhaps he won't forgive me. His second, following quickly on the heels of the first, was shame. Had he really hurt his master so much? He had always thought of Obi-Wan as emotionless, impossible to really affect. He had far too many specific memories of times when he'd hurled all the most cutting things he could think of in Obi-Wan's face, desperate to get any kind of a reaction at all.
Of course he had hurt him. After all, how would Anakin feel if Ahsoka spoke that way to him?
Get away from me. I hate you. Don't touch me.
"Anakin..." Obi-Wan trailed off, seemingly at a loss. He looked away, combing absent fingers through the fringe of hair that fell over his forehead. "I don't... hold it against you. I never did. You were young, and had just suffered a terrible loss. It was my responsibility to teach you to manage your emotions anyway... I tried to help you, but often I'm afraid I didn't know how."
"Yeah, we all feel that way about my emotions," said Anakin, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The joke at least got Obi-Wan to briefly glance at him. "You can't teach someone who doesn't want to learn, Master. It was my responsibility as a person, not even as a Jedi, to control myself. Instead, I chose to take everything out on you. That's on me."
"Your dreams... I made a mistake, thinking that I understood them. I should have listened. Paid more attention."
"Master," said Anakin wearily. He should have known Obi-Wan wouldn't cooperate. "Just take the apology. It's not that hard."
Obi-Wan frowned at him in a way that meant, Be serious, Anakin.
He didn't realize what he was asking for. Anakin was deadly serious.
"Look, okay, no. This isn't something we're going to share the blame on. I'm telling you that I— Master, I wronged you. How could you have listened to me about my dreams, when I wouldn't tell you about them? You and I both knew they were about my mom, but I thought that admitting it would prevent me from being knighted. Don't you remember how persistent you were, always asking me about them, and how angry I got? I finally told you the tiniest bit just before I left for Naboo. You couldn't have done anything. By that point, it was too late. I was the one who might have been able to save my mom, if I had been honest. Instead, I let my ego get in the way."
Admitting that was agony, even now, and Anakin blinked hard, determined not to give in to the way his eyes had begun to sting. There was more he had to say before he inevitably lost coherency.
"And yeah," said Anakin, driving relentlessly onward, "the fact that I blamed you and froze you out after Geonosis directly contributed to you getting captured, and that's not up for debate. I wasn't acting like a padawan or a partner. You should have been able to trust me to have your back, but instead I was treating you like the enemy. If we had been working together — if our bond had been open, there's a good chance we would have been one step ahead of Ventress, or at least I would have realized that you weren't killed in the tank blast."
"Anakin—"
Anakin held up a hand. He wasn't done. "And, it's not just this. Master, as your padawan... I did not fulfill my side of the oath. Oh, I tried when I was young. But at a certain point I just gave up. I didn't strive. I didn't seek. I resisted all your teachings, and worked so hard looking for anything you ever did wrong, so I could throw it in your face and make myself feel better. Things like 'saber technique and all the physical stuff came so easily... I thought the whole Order owed me knighthood. I thought you owed me praise, and everyone was just against me because they were jealous."
He kept his eyes down, afraid to look at Obi-Wan's face.
"What I didn't realize... I mean, when I was a kid, I thought being a Jedi meant having a laser sword and being so powerful you can do whatever you want. So powerful that nothing can hurt you. As a padawan... I tried to talk a good talk, but I never really let go of that sort of self-centered idea. I didn't get that being a Jedi is about being unselfish. About using your power for others instead of yourself. You know? I always thought about myself, all the time, and what I wanted and what I deserved and what made me feel good. I never thought about you, and what you felt."
He hadn't thought about anyone else, really. He hadn't thought about Tru Veld when he'd conveniently "forgotten" to point out the problem with his lightsaber hilt, only how Ferus Olin made him feel. He hadn't thought about Padme as a person, really, only about how her love made him feel. Figuring that out had been a bumpy road. Even his mother... he had worried about her future without him, but mostly he had thought about how much he missed her and how unfair it was.
Some mistakes it was too late to fix.
Anakin risked a glance at Obi-Wan, and found him resolutely frowning at the floor. "Master," he said softly. "I understand this now, and I— I want you to know that I'm so sorry. I've done my best to make you proud, and I've missed you so much, and— and— I understand if you can't forgive me—"
His eyes had begun to water again, and this time there was no way to stop it. Pressing the heels of his palms against them and trying to clear his throat, Anakin fought valiantly for composure. When warm fingers touched his hand, covering it and pulling it away from his face, he found that Obi-Wan had moved up onto his knees, almost into Anakin's space. He looked very serious.
Catching his hand before he could pull it all the way back, Anakin said, voice rough, "But— I really hope you can forgive me, Master."
Obi-Wan was shaking his head faintly, and Anakin dropped his hand as if the touch had burned him. The Force trembled and Anakin's heart broke, his chest pulling so tight he felt as if he would never breathe again.
Then Obi-Wan gripped his shoulders, pulling him roughly into a hug.
Anakin flung his arms around his master's neck, gasping out the breath that had frozen in his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, confused but not about to let go, and pressed his face into Obi-Wan's shoulder.
Gravely, Obi-Wan asked, "Are you done?"
"Yeah," Anakin said, wet and muffled. "I love you, Master."
"I know." He rested his cheek against Anakin's hair. He sounded quiet, and a little rueful. Anakin felt Obi-Wan's chest rise and fall in a silent sigh, and a whisper brushed across the bond. "Have you been carrying all this for so long? Let it go, Anakin. Set it down. Dwelling on the past will only torment you."
Shaking his head, face scratching against his master's borrowed tunics and his own sleeve, Anakin made a noise of disagreement. "When you were dead it was in the past. Now it's the present."
A strong hold fisted in the back of his hair, and Anakin found himself blinking, head forced up to look Obi-Wan in the eye.
"Of course I forgive you, Anakin."
Anakin's hands snarled themselves in Obi-Wan's tunic, and he let out a long, slow breath. For a moment he felt light-headed, as if Obi-Wan's firm grip at the nape of his neck were the only thing keeping him upright.
"Look at me," commanded Obi-Wan. "When I do die, you need to know that all I want for you— all I have ever wanted is for you to find peace and purpose. You have so many talents and so many strengths, Anakin. Your heart is generous and compassionate— My greatest concern was always how hard you allowed your anger and fear to drive you. If you rule them instead of allowing them to rule you... then, no matter where your path leads, you will be strong enough to face the challenges that come."
Obi-Wan released Anakin's hair, hands dropping to cover Anakin's and pry them away from his tunics. Squeezing both Anakin's hands, he frowned earnestly.
"Anakin..." He trailed off, looking helpless, and Anakin was amazed to see Obi-Wan, for once, at a loss for what to say. Haltingly, he said, "I am— more proud of you than you can possibly know. Just over the last two days, I have seen so much that I couldn't have possibly imagined before Jabiim. Now, will you please put this burden down? I never held anything against you. You were my padawan, Anakin. All I wanted was to see you thrive."
Face hot, Anakin nodded wordlessly. He couldn't help but notice that Obi-Wan still seemed troubled, and only the barest sliver of impression leaked from him in the Force.
"You'll remember that when I die?" He raised his eyebrows, making a stab at lightheartedness, but Anakin only gripped his hands tighter.
"You better not die anytime soon."
The meaning of Obi-Wan's half-smile was clear. No promises.
"Is that everything you wanted to say?" he prompted gently, taking back his hands. "No more confessions I should hear?"
There were more. But Anakin felt weary, almost shaky with it, and he was almost certain Obi-Wan had topped out on his ability to handle serious emotional disclosure for now. It was enough. The rest could wait until they had more time.
When he shook his head, Obi-Wan widened his eyes slightly. "Excellent. So, how many more times should I expect to have this conversation?"
"...Zero?"
"Good answer," said Obi-Wan.
Anakin huffed, rubbing briefly at his eyes. He rolled his shoulders, tension coiled in his muscles. It was enough. Obi-Wan had said everything he had ever wanted to hear and more. More than he'd ever imagined his master was capable of expressing. But still— he had spoken in the past tense.
Obi-Wan was watching him, eyes dark and thoughtful. When Anakin looked up, his gaze softened. "I really did want to be the one to cut your braid," he said, offhand tone not quite ringing true. "It's... disappointing to have missed so much."
When Master Ki-Adi had cut Anakin's braid, he remembered just feeling numb. It hadn't felt real, without Obi-Wan there. The braid had just been a dead strand of hair, and the knighthood he had wanted for so long had just meant that his next mission would be with a different company of clones.
"Yeah," sighed Anakin. "We can't go back, Master — but we're here now."
"We certainly are, Master Skywalker," Obi-Wan teased. "For the moment."
Yes, for the moment. In a matter of hours, Obi-Wan would be on his way to Coruscant, and Anakin would be heading into action. They might not see each other again for months. The thought didn't make Anakin happy, but Obi-Wan would be safe, and that did. Not seeing him for months was so much better than not seeing him again forever.
Following the same train of thought, Obi-Wan asked, "Can you tell me about the operation that's about to begin? I couldn't find any information in the records or reports, but it seems to be a major offensive...?"
"Yeah, sure, but— Can you—? I mean—" Anakin's gesture was vague and abrupt, but he leaned into the Force, pressing briefly on the bond.
Normal people didn't need to be granted access to someone else's mind. Good Jedi weren't restless and claustrophobic in their own thoughts. Shame twisted in Anakin's belly, but he couldn't take the silence any longer. Not after what he had just said — not after what Obi-Wan had just said.
Obi-Wan showed brief surprise, but dropped his shields. All of them.
The bond came alive with energy, and Anakin's own relief swept through the Force like a blast of cool wind. He could feel the trickle of Obi-Wan's amusement at his reaction, and lurking below it the shadowy cloud of his master's concern. When Obi-Wan reached out to him, his touch in the Force was as fond as a warm hand on Anakin's cheek. Tumbling headlong into his master's bright presence, Anakin felt the tension finally draining out of him.
I am more proud of you than you can possibly know.
How could he believe that?
Anakin didn't know, but he could. Like this, he could believe anything, and it felt like flying.
"You don't have to open everything," said Anakin. He would never demand that level of access. The bond was plenty and, even if there were no other Force-sensitives nearby, he knew being that recklessly unguarded wouldn't be comfortable for Obi-Wan.
"Actually, I do." Obi-Wan's ironic tone obscured a small, hard knot of tight irritation. "I've discovered that I can shield fairly well, but only uniformly. When I start attempting fancy maneuvers like shielding some things and not others, I can do it for a little while, but after too long everything starts to break down."
The sarcastic emphasis on fancy maneuvers was sharp, and Anakin winced in sympathy. He could sense that Obi-Wan's irritation wasn't for him, and that if he could have hidden it, he would have. But Anakin had asked for access, and so he had given it, even though it meant relinquishing the only control he had at the moment. "I'm sorry," said Anakin, sorry that he couldn't just believe Obi-Wan's words, that he always needed more.
"Unfortunately, you have used up your quota of apologies for the day. Please try again tomorrow," Obi-Wan deadpanned.
Anakin smiled crookedly. He pulled away from the bond a little, both wanting Obi-Wan to know that he could shield again and hoping that he wouldn't. It did make sense, though — explained why Obi-Wan had been so distant in the Force today and yesterday morning, until he had gotten too tired to sustain the effort. If Obi-Wan had a choice between being completely closed or completely open, obviously he would choose closed every time.
Realistically, Anakin would probably choose the same thing. A faint notion began to form in his mind that maybe, just possibly, it wasn't about him.
"I told you I'm having Ahsoka go with you, right?"
"Told me, no," said Obi-Wan, "but you did tell Master Windu while I was in the room."
"Right—"
"I don't object to her company, but if she could be more helpful to you here, you know that I can pilot a ship for myself."
Anakin made a skeptical noise, just to feel Obi-Wan's spike of indignation. "Yeah, I know, Master. Honestly, it's just to make myself feel better. And I'd be lying if I said part of me wasn't happy to keep Ahsoka out of what's about to go down, even if it's just for a while."
Cocking his head, Obi-Wan said, "She seems very competent."
"Oh, absolutely, but... it's not going to be good for anyone. I know what we're doing is necessary — we have to defend the Republic. But Ahsoka has already seen more than I had when I was her age, and you know that's saying something."
Ahsoka had only been a padawan for two years. Still, in those two years — the bioweapon attack on Haiuta City that killed more than ten thousand beings, the brainrot plague that devastated an entire sector, the destruction of Humbarine that left millions dead, not to mention all the clones, men they lived with and fought beside, they saw die in every battle. Even if you counted his childhood on Tatooine, Anakin was pretty sure Ahsoka had seen more large-scale atrocities, more death and misery, more widespread evil than he had by the time he was sixteen.
"You want to protect her," said Obi-Wan.
"Of course. It's part of my oath as her master." Anakin brazenly mixed truth and irony, the kind of deliberate twist on Jedi doctrine that, as a padawan, would have earned him a chiding look at the very least. He didn't know if he was testing Obi-Wan, or what he expected his master to say — maybe he would joke back?
Obi-Wan only leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, and said, "That's one of the hardest things about having a padawan, I think. You can't shield them from all darkness — that would be doing them an injustice, a failure of training. But you wish you could."
"Yeah," said Anakin, blinking. "I'm hoping... I mean, I don't know. I don't know how much longer the war will last, but I'm hoping we can tempt Grievous and maybe even Dooku to really commit to this campaign. If we can just take them out... I don't think the Separatists will continue the fight. I don't know how much more of this we can stand."
The Jedi Order, the Republic... the whole galaxy was exhausted.
"Has anyone learned anything further about the second Sith?"
"Huh?"
Confusion clouded Obi-Wan in the Force. "Dooku claimed on Geonosis the existence of a second Sith. Has nothing further been discovered?"
"Oh, yeah." Anakin barely remembered being told about that. "The shadow presence he said was secretly controlling the Senate or something? I'm pretty sure that was just some kark he was talking to mislead us."
"So nothing ever came of it?"
"Not that I ever heard of." Anakin sat back, leaning on his hands, and glanced around at the gym. Lunch was over, so some of the clones had started trickling back in in their workout fatigues. They would come in the main door and then immediately swerve, giving a wide berth to the two Jedi sitting on the floor, surrounded by a strange blast radius of water bottles. "Do you want to go get something to eat? I can tell you about the campaign on the way."
"I could eat," said Obi-Wan.
Anakin called the scattered bottles back to himself with the Force. He gathered most of them and stood up. "Why did you get so many of these, anyway?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, picking up the last few and Anakin's pile of outer tunics as well. "When I asked one of the men, this was how many he brought. I thought maybe he knew something I didn't."
"Do you know who it was?" There was only a slim chance it would have been one of the men Obi-Wan had met, and sure enough, he shook his head. Anakin was imagining one of the rookies being asked a favor by a Jedi and immediately springing into action to wildly over-deliver. "Well, I guess I'd better start guzzling."
"Might as well begin with the one you already opened," said Obi-Wan, handing it over.
Letting out three sustained beeps, Artoo spun in an interrogative circle.
"Yeah, that's fine, Artoo," Anakin said. As the droid trundled away purposefully, he wondered if Artoo had taken footage of what had just happened. Was he always recording? What other interesting and potentially embarrassing files did he have stored in his databanks?
Obi-Wan's regard, a peculiar mix of admiration and exasperation, drifted in the Force between them. "What?"
"Sometimes I think binary must have been your first language."
"It's not that hard, Master," Anakin huffed. "No harder than any of the twenty languages you speak."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. He had always expressed a vaguely tolerant mystification at Anakin's affinity to droids and machines, which had struck a young Anakin as very funny. He was a member of an arcane and secretive order dedicated to harnessing the life force of the universe, and he thought Anakin being a good mechanic was weird?
That was Jedi for you, honestly.
Instead of the mess, they went to the upper deck officers' lounge. There would likely still be a good amount of people in any of the mess halls, and Anakin had not forgotten what Ahsoka had said yesterday about the large crowd taxing Obi-Wan's stamina. He also might have wanted to keep Obi-Wan to himself for a little longer, but that was neither here nor there.
With every step they took, Anakin kept expecting Obi-Wan to retreat back behind his shields.
He didn't. As they walked, Obi-Wan was still a bright, open glow beside him. Their presences mingled easily, like a comfortable brush of shoulders in shared space, and the Force flowed between them without barrier. Anakin felt buoyant, like a massive weight had been lifted away. He had apologized, Obi-Wan had forgiven him — his master cared about him, was proud of him, was giving him this connection, even though it cost him— And yet he almost wanted to hold his breath, for fear that any second it would be taken away.
Instead, Anakin intensified his presence in the Force, expanding outward and shielding Obi-Wan like he had in the clinic.
"Do you remember when I was a kid, before they started sending us on missions, and I kept repairing droids in my quarters— ones that had been junked? And then letting them roam the Temple?" Anakin asked.
"What, you mean you don't still do that?"
"No, I do," he had to admit, and Obi-Wan smiled.
"Of course I remember. Especially the one that someone cut in half and left on our doorstep like some kind of a gruesome warning."
Anakin laughed out loud, and Obi-Wan's pleased surprise was a warm burst in the Force. That had been the one found tinkering in the High Council chambers. Anakin had never known exactly whose warning it was, but in hindsight... "Master Windu had to have done that, right?" As a kid he had thought of Master Windu as more lifeless than a droid, but now that sounded like exactly his sense of humor.
"I don't know," said Obi-Wan.
"I'll ask him when I see him next," Anakin decided, before remembering that he would probably see Master Windu next in the skies above Balmorra. "...Maybe."
Fortunately, the officers' lounge was empty, as Anakin had expected. Storing away the extra water bottles in the conservator, they broke into the food that Anakin had left alone last night. It was mostly stuff meant for snacking, not necessarily in line with the macronutrient guidelines Obi-Wan had been given, but that was fine for now. He could eat a nutribar later if necessary, and Anakin was not about to risk this fragile equilibrium by striking out into the rest of the ship.
They took over the couches, sharing a grazing assortment of snacks. Obi-Wan leaned up against the armrest of one couch, while Anakin sprawled on another, his boots up on the low table, and explained Operation Rising Tide in between mouthfuls of moss chips. It got confusing quickly, given how much background Obi-Wan was missing. Realizing that he had started in the middle, Anakin backed up to go over last year's developments, and how much of the Core and Mid Rim the Separatists had taken.
He could feel Obi-Wan's interested focus as he listened without comment. He generally had a better mental map of the galaxy than Anakin did, but this was still complicated, so Anakin set up a diagram on the table. His comm represented Coruscant, he set meiloorun strips out to be other Core planets, and one of his moss chips showed the movements of Grievous's fleet.
"They took Humbarine?" said Obi-Wan, his shock prickling in the Force.
"The sector, yes. The planet, no," said Anakin grimly. The entire Humbarine Rule was under Separatist occupation. Humbarine itself, though— "They destroyed it."
Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up, the look he was giving Anakin clearly required clarification. "A part of the city...?"
"The whole planet was Base Delta Zero'd." Illustratively, Anakin took the meiloorun strip that was Humbarine off the table and ate it. "We couldn't get there in time — Grievous melted the planetary crust in an hour of orbital bombardment. Less than one percent of the population survived."
The day Humbarine died had been a silent one. Anakin would never forget how the Force felt — he had sensed it immediately, and known they were too late.
Humbarine had been a Core founder, one of the Republic's oldest established civilizations. Like Coruscant, it had been a city-planet, surface totally covered in layers of urban life. It had been a massive, thriving economy, home to millions of beings. Now, it was an uninhabited ball of cooled rock.
Grievous's offensive had taken the Republic by complete surprise. No one had ever imagined there would be such danger so deep in the Core; most people there thought of the war as something that went on far away, in the Mid Rim and Outer Rim. Until that point, no one in the Core had really worried that they might truly lose the war. The question had been at what cost Republic victory would come — not if.
But if Humbarine could fall, no planet was truly safe. Not even Coruscant.
"How could that have happened? The Humbarine Rule is one of the most well-protected sectors in the entire galaxy," said Obi-Wan, grappling with the impossible.
"The Rule Defense Force was assimilated into the GAR," Anakin explained, words slow with reluctance. The Chancellor had folded most of the best Planetary Defense Forces into the Republic Navy by executive order early on in the war. There hadn't really been any choice. "At the time, we were deep in action on Ryloth and other places. No one thought the next planet we'd need to defend would be in the Arrowhead."
Anakin didn't blame himself, not really. Not any more than the rest of the Jedi did. Not anymore than he knew the Chancellor did. Surviving refugees had been moved to Alderaan, and they had done everything they could at the time. His focus was on what he was going to do for those people now, and he wasn't too surprised to feel Obi-Wan's thoughts flowing in the same direction. They were often on the same wavelength — except when they absolutely and completely were not.
"You're going to take the sector back, yes?" asked Obi-Wan, more of a demand than anything else.
Anakin blew out a long breath, redistributing moss chips to show the positions of the sector armies. He described their movements — the First down to Sector Two with the Second, the Fifth and Sixth both to the Koros Trunk Line — and then the plan.
"Yeah, we are. It's a simultaneous assault," he said, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. Where had he heard that recently? Oh— the asteroid mission. Hopefully Operation Rising Tide went a little better than that had. "These sector armies are going to open the attack on all of these planets at once. It would be a massive overextension if they were all we had, so that's where me and Master Plo come in. Our job is to drive in fast with stealth and speed, once the Separatists have already hunkered down to defend against the only enemy they think is there. We come out of nowhere, hit right where they don't expect, and turn the tide."
Obi-Wan said, "Then you move on to the next planet."
It had taken Anakin a minute to explain this to the Council when he'd tried the first time. No surprise that Obi-Wan was quicker. "Exactly. We leave the other sector armies to lock down the planetary occupation, and we hit the next target. Commenor, Balmorra, Duro. One-two-three. We should be able to retake most of the Core and Colonies without getting bogged down in costly, extended sieges."
Indicating the makeshift diagram with a sweep of his hand, Obi-Wan asked, "And Humbarine?"
Anakin hadn't put anything down in that sector. "I included it originally. There's a lot of feeling in the Senate that it's not worth it. I mean, for example, we need Balmorra."
His master widened his eyes as if that were obvious, and nodded. They couldn't allow the Separatists to keep utilizing that system's massive manufacturing potential, not to mention the Kuat Orbital Shipyards, unless they really did want to lose the war. "Don't tell me you've also gotten into politics while I was gone."
"Nah," said Anakin, mouth twisting in what wasn't quite a smile. "I've just got good sources. They say it's a lost cause. Without Humbarine, its whole sector is pretty much kriffed economically. It's devastated, and not going to be useful to the war effort."
This was a pretty solid cost-benefit analysis, and Anakin could sense that part of Obi-Wan, calculating and practical, agreed. All he said was, "You don't think so."
"I mean, do we save people because they're useful? We're supposed to value all life, and help people weaker than us. We're supposed to save people because it's the right thing to do."
Anakin tried not to get defensive when he felt Obi-Wan's strange, pensive amusement. His master's face stayed serious. "It's not always easy to see the best way to do that, though. Especially if we allow personal feelings to cloud our judgment."
That stung. Did Obi-Wan think he was a child? Only the fact that Anakin had full access to Obi-Wan's mind soothed his annoyance; he sensed nothing but a deep pool of quiet care behind his master's words. He suspected he might know what Obi-Wan was worried about. "This isn't about vengeance, Master. It's just, if I can do something good, I should do it," said Anakin with conviction. "Otherwise, what am I? Not a Jedi, that's for sure."
"It does seem strategically feasible."
Obi-Wan declined to engage, another sign that he probably wasn't actually disagreeing with Anakin, just— what? Checking that Anakin himself had thought it through? He wished Obi-Wan could just trust him, but... he hadn't stopped saying master either. There were habits on both sides that couldn't be so easily shaken off. And really, did Obi-Wan trust anyone so much that he wouldn't second-guess all their plans? Doubtful.
"I'm going to be covering most of the nearby sectors anyway. There's a chance the Separatists might just abandon it, too, to fall back to a better position. It doesn't have much value anymore for them, either." Anakin shrugged. Was that likely? Maybe not, but it was possible. "The real problem is going to be Kaikielius."
"Yes, I saw that," said Obi-Wan, frowning. "I assume they are going to stagger the attack there. If they begin the assault when you get to Duro, it should—"
"Oh, they're attacking right now." When Obi-Wan's expression plainly implied that he had lost his mind, Anakin spread his hands. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. The Council added it without consulting me."
"That is... not a short trip," observed Obi-Wan, mildness only emphasizing his disapproval.
"Nope."
To get from the Balmorra area over to Kaikielius, you would have to take the Hydian Way back over to the Perlemian, and then pass Coruscant to get down to the Byss Run... Or you would have to take the risk of plotting a custom route of micro-jumps. Either way, it was likely to take as long as a week. Not exactly the kind of "stealth and speed" that would lend itself to this strategy.
"I hope someone is reinforcing Coruscant."
"Yeah, me too," said Anakin acerbically. "I'm gonna do my job. I have to assume they'll do theirs."
Obi-Wan was combing his fingers through the screen of hair that fell over his forehead, pondering the setup on the table. There was a deep furrow between his eyebrows and, as Anakin watched, he dropped his hand to press at the scars under his chin. The drift of his thoughts focused on the campaign, but a deeper current ran elsewhere as well.
"Well," he said finally, looking over at Anakin. He was still displeased, that was clear. "I know you don't need my advice, Anakin. But I hope you will humor me, and allow me to say that this looks like a disaster waiting to happen."
Anakin snorted. "Thanks."
"I don't mean this part." Obi-Wan sat forward, indicating the meiloorun strips that were Balmorra and Duro. "But Kaikielius... I have a bad feeling about it."
"Me too," Anakin admitted, "but it has to be done, and there's no point in worrying about it. 'Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction,' right?"
That surprised a huff out of Obi-Wan and, suddenly teasing, he said, "It's good to know you did hear some of the things I said."
"Oh, I always heard you, Master. Whether I listened or not is a different question."
Obi-Wan's half smile quickly faded. "You will be mindful, won't you, Anakin?"
It wasn't a chastisement or a chiding reminder; it was almost an appeal, and Anakin frowned, shifting closer to Obi-Wan on his own couch. Hearing concern over his mental state from Obi-Wan was relatively common — concern over his physical welfare much less so. Usually it was 'Why don't you draw their fire for me, Anakin?' or 'I think it's your turn to be the bait, Anakin.' They both had always just tended to take his physical abilities as a matter of fact.
"Don't worry, Master," he said. "I've done way more dangerous stuff than this and survived."
Obi-Wan gave him a dry look. "That's not actually as comforting as you seem to think it is."
Anakin had opened his mouth to ask what, specifically, Obi-Wan's misgivings were, when the Force suddenly shuddered.
The self-contained bubble of hyperspace was ripped away, and awareness of the greater galaxy poured back in like the background roar of the ocean. Their eyes met and, a split second later, the hyperspace alarm began to blare.
Shooting to his feet, Anakin hesitated. If it were just him, he would be sprinting, but—
"The bridge," said Obi-Wan, standing. "Let's go."
Anakin grinned, and they ran.
The alarm was four short blasts, deafeningly loud but over quickly. Everyone onboard knew the sound and, with the shift in the Force, the air of tension wound a little tighter. Men didn't pour out into the corridors — it wasn't an emergency alarm or an all-hands alarm — but the clones they passed in the halls watched them silently, knowing that soon it would be their turn to race to their duty stations.
In complete contrast to the sleepy place it had been yesterday, the bridge was now a focused river of activity. Yularen stood on the walkway before the central holotable, the unmoving rock in the middle of the currents. His hands were clasped behind his back and he faced the viewport, where the cascading light of hyperspace had been replaced by darkness. Anakin jogged up next to the admiral, Obi-Wan beside him, and took in the view.
A few far-off stars were visible, but a planet dominated the lower corner of the viewport — Cartao.
From this distance, most planets looked unnaturally perfect, and Cartao was no exception. It was terrestrial and temperate, Anakin knew, bold blues and greens mixing with faded tan and yellow where bodies of water met the land masses. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to do anything to ruin that beauty.
"ETA, Admiral?"
"We will establish a perimeter, and should be able to send a delegation down in forty minutes," said Yularen, one eyebrow rising slowly as he surveyed Anakin.
So little time.
Sending a scouting mission would be even quicker, but they wouldn't send a delegation until they were fully prepared to invade, if necessary. They didn't usually persuade planetary authorities to aid the Republic on the strength of their friendliness and charm.
Anakin nodded, crossing his arms. He could feel Obi-Wan's quiet swell of amusement against him in the Force like a warm breeze. Absently, he intensified his own projected presence to offset the amount of people in the room for his master. Where was Ahsoka? She should be here any minute.
Reaching for his comm to send a message to Artoo, Anakin realized he didn't have it, and simultaneously discovered why Yularen had given him that strange look. He had showed up on the bridge in his sweaty undershirt.
"Sithspit," he muttered under his breath. If his tunics, belt, and comm were still in the lounge, that also meant—
"Looking for this?" Obi-Wan offered him his lightsaber.
Snatching it out of his master's hand, Anakin said, "Oh, shut up."
Obi-Wan's slight shrug was perfectly diffident, but the smugness was rolling off him in waves.
"You didn't happen to get the rest of my stuff too, did you?"
"I'm not a nanny droid," said Obi-Wan.
Anakin rolled his eyes and put his 'saber in his pants pocket. It was weird and would make a quick draw impossible, but hopefully nobody would be attacking him on his own ship.
When Ahsoka showed up minutes later, she immediately joined them on the walkway. "What's going on, Master?"
"We've just arrived at Cartao," said Anakin, not sure why she was asking such an obvious question. "Forty minutes until I have to head down. I hope you've got your bag packed."
With a barely-audible huff, Yularen moved forward to the very edge of the walkway, as far away from them as he could get and not be standing in the pits. It wasn't that crowded, thought Anakin. Rex wasn't even here yet.
"I'm ready to go." Ahsoka eyed him, and probed their bond briefly.
"What?"
"Nothing, apparently," she said.
Since she was refusing to make sense, Anakin moved on. "I need to borrow your comm for a minute."
"Why?"
"Because I forgot mine," he said, holding his hand out. "Comm. Here. Now."
"All right, keep your shirt on."
Ahsoka fished her comm out of a belt pocket and tossed it to him.
Obi-Wan's shoulder brushed Anakin's, just enough to reorient him. As he accepted the comm from Ahsoka, Anakin felt the brightness of his own presence through Obi-Wan's eyes, saw how they must look in the Force to a third party — nebulous, stirred together like water and oil, overpowering.
Problem? thought Anakin, knowing that anyone might hear and not really caring.
Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow, but didn't say anything and didn't withdraw.
As he opened a comm channel to message Artoo, it was Anakin's turn to be insufferably smug. Sure, they weren't in the Great Hall of the Temple, but they were in the middle of a busy room, in public, and Obi-Wan was still allowing him this. It was a gift, he knew, the kind of privileged trust and obvious preference that felt almost as if a crown had been placed on his head. Obi-Wan could back out if he wanted to, if he was uncomfortable being seen, but Anakin was going to proudly wear this crown as long as he possibly could.
And his time was already running out.
After comming Artoo and then Rex, Anakin had precious few excuses to linger. He tried to pretend he was still needed on the bridge, scrounging up things to do and severely testing Yularen's patience, but... it was time. He could drag it out until the last minute, but Rex had already started his preparations. If he left his own until right before landing on Cartao, well — that was what he'd done during the asteroid assault.
"Anakin?" said Obi-Wan, a question and a prompt.
"Yeah." He sighed. "We should go."
Nearly fifty levels below, the Twilight waited for them, already prepped for launch.
She was a singular aberration among the host of larties, CR-20s, starfighters and other warships in the hangar. The little freighter was about as aerodynamic as a rock, and its aged and weathered exterior did not exactly inspire confidence. Anakin had almost completely rebuilt the guts of the ship, but had never bothered to make any cosmetic improvements. (Except for some nose art he had been practically strong-armed into adding.) Half of the Twilight's utility came from her unimpressive appearance, and Anakin was counting on that to see Ahsoka and Obi-Wan safely through to the Core.
"One of your projects, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked as they approached. "I hope it flies."
"Don't they always?"
"Usually. Even the ones that aren't supposed to."
"The Twilight's been with us forever. Don't worry, she'll take us wherever we want to go," said Ahsoka, playing fast and loose with the definition of forever. They paused at the foot of the Twilight's lowered boarding ramp. "And before you ask, Master — yes, I stocked provisions."
Ahsoka expected him to quiz her on her arrangements, so Anakin did, but the truth was he had already looked over the Twilight earlier that morning on his own. Everything was as ready as it would ever be. The hangar bay door was already up and the force field in place for the ships Yularen had scrambled to establish his perimeter.
"I'll eat some protato wedges for you, Master," Ahsoka said by way of farewell, "and I'll come right back as fast as I can."
"If the Council doesn't give you another mission. If they do, I want you to take it." She wouldn't have much choice, but Anakin meant without arguing. "I'm sure I can manage without you for a few weeks."
"That makes one of us." He flicked at her braid, and she grinned. When Artoo appeared, trundling around the ship and then rolling to a stop near her feet, Ahsoka said, "Hey Artoo. Come to see us off?"
Artoo warbled a negative, and Anakin nodded. "Nope, he's going with."
"You sure that's a good idea? Without me and Artoo who's going to save you when you get into trouble?"
She was just joking, because they both already knew the answer to that. "Rex, obviously," said Anakin. "Artoo, make sure they get to Coruscant all right, and then stick with Ahsoka. If she gets another mission, go with her, okay?"
Artoo gave an acknowledging beep, and then spun, wheeling up the ramp and into the ship.
Eyes narrowing, Ahsoka said, "I guess someone's ready to go. I hope he knows I'm the one piloting this thing."
"If you leave it too long, you might not be."
Responding to the hint, she moved toward the boarding ramp. "I'll see you later, Master."
"Say hi to everyone for me," Anakin told her.
Ahsoka disappeared into the Twilight to begin the preflight sequence, and Anakin turned to his master. He had felt Obi-Wan's dry amusement when he was talking to Artoo, but now he only tilted his head slightly and said, "I like the decal."
So he had noticed that. "Fives made me add it," Anakin said, crossing his arms. He had maybe made sure that his pod and racing helmet were depicted accurately, but the nose art itself hadn't been his idea. And why not at least get it done right, since it was going to be added anyway? Obi-Wan of all people should appreciate that.
"I'm sure you were very reluctant."
"You should see some of the designs Master Plo's men came up with."
"Where could Fives have possibly heard the story of your podrace, I wonder?"
Probably the same place Obi-Wan had heard it. He had never seen Anakin's pod anymore than Fives had, except maybe in some seconds-long clips during the highlight reels they showed before every year's Boonta broadcast. Clearly either that or Anakin's descriptions had been enough for him to recognize the figure in the Twilight's stylized decal.
"Now you're just stalling," accused Anakin, mostly because he didn't want to answer the rhetorical question. He was surprised when Obi-Wan shifted and the corner of his mouth quirked wryly in acknowledgment. He glanced at the Twilight's lowered ramp and then back at Anakin.
"I don't like to think of you going into battle without me."
Anakin had been doing it for a long time already. "I can handle myself, Master."
"Oh, I'm not worried about you," said Obi-Wan. On a scale from absolutely true to total falsehood, Anakin would rate that as only a partial misrepresentation. "It just hardly seems fair that you are about to embark on a critical mission, while I am about to be harassed by healers for the foreseeable future."
Anakin snorted. "Guess you'll just have to hurry up and get better, for both our sakes."
"Yes," said Obi-Wan. Still, he didn't move to board the ship.
"What is it, Master?" asked Anakin. Obviously there was something on Obi-Wan's mind — Anakin could feel it as distinctly as if it were his own emotion — and hesitating to spit it out wasn't like him. "You know you can say anything to me."
His master gave him a look as if they both knew that wasn't true, but Anakin meant it.
"I know you don't need me looking over your shoulder," he said slowly, "but you will be mindful?"
Hadn't Anakin already answered that question? He had said 'don't worry,' which, on second thought, might not actually count as an answer. "Yes," said Anakin firmly. "Mindful as kriff. Maximum mindfulness. I'll be so mindful even Master Yoda won't be able to compete."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and Anakin felt his surprised mirth as clearly as if he had actually laughed. "I never thought I would say this, but that might actually be overkill."
"If we don't want to get trapped between the fleet and Cartao, we need to go!"
Ahsoka's shout echoed from the belly of the ship, and Obi-Wan stepped up onto the loading ramp. Following, Anakin stood just at the edge, the incline of the ramp making Obi-Wan just a little taller than him. "May the Force be with you, my—" Obi-Wan made a face, irritated at himself at the slip, and finished, "Anakin."
"Your Anakin." He aimed his brightest grin up at his master. Fixed it.
Possession was forbidden, and Anakin expected to get an eyeroll or a mock-stern look. Instead, Obi-Wan just looked at him, eyes bright, and repeated, "My Anakin."
Anakin's heart flipped over in his chest. For a moment, he couldn't speak, burning all over with a sudden, electric heat, as if he had been struck by lightning. "Master," he said, the word meaning everything and nothing. "May the Force be with you."
When Obi-Wan ducked slightly and walked up the ramp into the Twilight's cargo hold, he didn't look back. It didn't matter, though, because Anakin could feel him in the Force just as if he still stood by Anakin's side, and his thoughts didn't go willingly. Knowing that his master didn't want to leave almost as much as Anakin wanted him to stay made it a little better, somehow. He didn't feel quite so alone.
Stepping back, Anakin waved at Ahsoka, tiny but visible through the cockpit viewport, as the ship's engines fired up. He stood by himself and watched the Twilight take off, taxiing out the hangar bay door and shooting out into space. In moments it had shrunk to a tiny moving dot against the backdrop of distant stars, and seconds later Anakin felt the shift when they entered hyperspace.
His sense of Ahsoka and Obi-Wan faded sharply. The ties in the Force that bound him to them were still there, but it was like they were separated by a layer of frosted transparisteel, or perhaps submerged underwater. Distortion and distance muted everything but the fact that they were alive.
Anakin took a long, deep breath. Obi-Wan was alive, and safe, and he would see both of them again soon.
For now, Anakin was a Jedi Knight with a job to do.