Okay, here we go folks. Drama time! Thanks for the comments, glad to know people are still reading!

Chapter Eighteen: Decline

"Commander Skywalker?"

Drake.

"No, Commander, it's me. O'Brian."

"Where are you? What the blazes happened?"

"Transmitting coordinates now. We were captured following an intel lead. But we managed to escape. Anakin is injured and so we'll have to request medical evacuation as soon as possible."

Preliminaries over, Drake immediately launched into a long speech detailing the men and resources wasted in searching for her and Anakin. Chloe's patience quickly ran out. "Commander Drake. Sir. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience caused to you and your staff. But please, if it's not too much trouble, tell me about the status of General Kenobi's mission." The words came out clearly but her hand shook so much, she could barely hold the com unit.

A pause. "Oh, yes," Drake said. "It was successful. We have a sample of the toxin, and General Kenobi and the team are on their way back."

Relief flooded Chloe's body. Thank the Force…

But Drake was still speaking.

"… detonation mechanism was triggered. They were lucky to get out alive."

"Excuse me?"

"General Kenobi and Agent Stikes. They were negotiating with your father when the detonation mechanism was triggered. "

"M-my father, was identified?"

"Yes."

"And did he-"

She couldn't say any more.

"-survive?" Drake finished for her. "I'm afraid I don't know. The operation report has not yet been filed. As for you, the search and rescue team are already on their way. You might even be back here in time to greet General Kenobi's team when they arrive."

Once Drake had signed off, Chloe sat for what seemed like an eternity with her back against the rock, watching Tatooine's twin suns sink below the horizon. Fatigue and hunger had caught up with her, but she was beyond sleep, and would not dare to let go of conciousness anyway. Anakin remained in deep meditation by her side, his breathing so quiet she resorted to checking his pulse every so often to reassure herself he was still alive. Afternoon had cooled fully into evening by the time the rescue team found them.

Chloe was first out of the ship at Terminus, straight into billows of ion engine exhaust vapour and the clamorous, purposeful noise of post-mission activity. The mist melted away to reveal the CR-20 troop carrier Torento—the clone ship used for the Nelvaan mission—in the process of being disembarked.

The hangar floor was awash with personnel: white-armoured clone troops, filing neatly towards the hangar's main exit, others on stretchers attended by medics; deck hands swarming around the ship, checking for damage and restocking and refuelling. Chloe hobbled along, cursing the throbbing ankle that made the mere act of walking slow and painful.

Where was Obi-Wan? She stopped a young man in a flightsuit. "Excuse me, Lieutenant. Is General Kenobi here?"

"Yes ma'am, over there," he said, pointing, "talking to the mechs."

Ah. There. The sleek red and silver tail of Obi-Wan's star fighter was just visible, poking out from behind the hull of the CR-20. Chloe pressed on, stepping over a re-fueling pipe, apologizing her way through the stream of clone troops disembarking the ship, ducking under its three huge rear engines, avoiding a hissing jet of white vapour leaking from the underneath of one of them...

And there, his tunics tattered and scorched at the edges, pointing something out on the side of his fighter to two boiler-suit clad mechanics, was Obi-Wan.

If he had noticed she was there he didn't look round, and Chloe allowed herself the opportunity to simply watch him, and appreciate the fact he was back, safe and, apparently, unharmed.

After a few minutes, he thanked the mechanics and waited for them leave before turning to look at her: that singularly intense look that never failed to make her breath catch and her skin tingle. She crossed to him, careful to stop an arm's reach away, and her heart lifted as she cast her eyes over his dear, handsome face. There was tenderness in his expression… and relief… and the warmth she had missed so much. The clamour of activity around them faded into the background and she had to clench her hands until her fingernails dug into her palms to stop herself taking another step forward and touching him.

"You're hurt," he said.

"What? Oh... yes." She frowned down at the offending ankle. "I fell." Then, because there was no easy way to say it: "I'm sorry for going to Tatooine. It was a mistake." When he didn't reply, she looked up, confused. "Are you angry with me?"

"No," he said, and he didn't look angry. But there was something else. Sadness? Regret?

Panic started to flutter in her chest. "Drake said my father's identity was confirmed. Where is he?"

"Chloe," Obi-Wan said, gently. "We should find somewhere private. Perhaps when the deckhands have finished..."

But the idea of waiting a second longer than necessary was unthinkable. "Just tell me."

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand over his beard. "Your father didn't make it out. The lab was rigged to self-destruct. I couldn't save him. I'm sorry."

Chloe simply stared at him, frozen. This couldn't be happening. Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Obi-Wan was a hero. He saved people all the time; that was his job. This had to be a mistake.

"Here." Obi-Wan took her arm and guided her to a row of containers. "Sit down."

"Are… are you sure he..." she could hardly bring herself to say it, "...died?"

Obi-Wan sat down beside her. "I'm afraid so. The detonation was very effective."

The scorch marks on his tunics. Charring, from the explosion. Grief began to take hold of her: a slow pain, dragging at her heart, just as she had felt all those years ago when they received the news from Rothana. She desperately wanted Obi-Wan to close the gap between them, wanted him to draw her into his arms so she could press her face against his chest and shut everything out but the sound of his heartbeat; feel nothing but his hands softly stroking her hair. But he remained a respectable distance away. Meanwhile her grief intensified: cold, hard, and clawing.

She took a breath. "Tell me what happened."

"I really think it would be better to wait until we can discuss this somewhere without interruptions."

Why was he so reluctant? "I'm not a child. Obi-Wan. Please."

Obi-Wan folded his arms across his chest and looked down as he spoke. "We—that is Agent Sikes and myself—entered the lab and managed to obtain a sample of the toxin before we were your father came into the lab. We explained why we were there and asked him to come with us but he refused. Unbeknownst to us, the lab was rigged with a double negative safety cut out, and the auto-detonate mechanism was triggered automatically, with no way of stopping it. With only minutes to go, we managed to persuade your father to leave with us, and he was in the test chamber retrieving some notes when the door locked. We couldn't open it. Agent left then, with the toxin sample while I stayed to try to free your father. I'm afraid I ran out of time."

"So, what… you just left him there?"

Obi-Wan looked at her, then at the floor again. "Yes."

"But was he himself? Was he being controlled some how?"

"I don't know."

"Did he put up a fight?"

Obi-Wan paused again before answering. "No."

"But there must be more than that… what did he say to you? Did you mention me?"

"Not much, and no I didn't." Obi-Wan glanced to the right where deck hands were using a forklift buggy to clear the row of storage crates. "We'd better get out of the way."

He began walking in the direction of the LAAT/s carrier that had transported her and Anakin from Tatooine. Chloe followed him, still shaken, her head pounding, and with the distinct impression that he was hiding something. She wasn't prepared to believe that her father could be so cruelly taken from her again, before she had even had chance to speak to him. "But did he give any clue about why he was there," she said, " or who had-"

Obi-Wan stopped. "I've told you all I can, Chloe. I'm sorry about what happened, but the objective was to obtain a sample of the Z-toxin to be used to formulate an antidote and we need to be glad that at least has been successful. We are fighting for the good of the Republic, remember."

Chloe waited for him to say something kind, compassionate; or touch her, for goodness sake; show her a small sign that he cared her world was falling apart. Show her that he understood.

But he didn't. Because, of course, he didn't understand. By definition, as a Jedi, he couldn't understand.

And now any tenderness in his expression had vanished, so completely, that she wondered if she had only imagined it in the first place. "You should get some rest," he said. "While I go and find out what Anakin has to say about your little excursion."

"He was sleeping when the ship touched down," Chloe said. "You should probably leave him to recover. He was pretty badly hurt."

"I think I can work out how to deal with my padawan for myself, thank you."

"Don't be angry with him. It wasn't his fault. He saved my life."

Obi-Wan's laugh was short and without humour. "Quite. It's not as if he was responsible for putting you in mortal danger in the first place."

"I chose to go with him."

"So you're going to tell me he didn't choose to follow some reckless, dangerous hunch once you were there? That he couldn't have got you both off planet unscathed if he hadn't taken unnecessary risks?"

Chloe remembered Roden's betrayal; remembered Anakin's comment about springing the trap. "Perhaps. But perhaps he thought it was necessary for the good of the Republic. As you said, that's what we're fighting for. And as it happens we did find out some potentially valuable intelligence, so Anakin's hunch was correct. Surely you would have done the same."

"I would not have let you go in the—" Obi-Wan stopped himself mid-sentence and pressed his lips together, turning his head away.

"So you are angry with me for going."

"What did you expect? Congratulations? I recommended you for this mission, and now I'm going to have to explain your embarrassing behaviour to the Council. They will in all likelihood terminate your internship, you know, I cannot defend you against this. What were you thinking, abandoning your post on a whim like that?"

"So that's why you're annoyed? Because I might spoil your precious reputation?" She was dangerously close to yelling at him.

"Is that what you think is most important to me?" Obi-Wan's calm façade had slipped too; he was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed.

Chloe could feel tears starting to well in her eyes. She swallowed, forcing them back, knowing once they started they would be impossible to stop. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't cope, with any of this, Obi-Wan. I'm not like you. I shouldn't even have come here."

"No. Clearly not."

She had to get away from him before she lost it completely. She started off towards the exit. "I'll be in my quarters."

"Anakin will be sent back to Coruscant on the next available shuttle," Obi-Wan called after her. "I suggest you do the same. Under the circumstances I think it best if you take indefinite leave from the Temple until the Council has discussed your case."

She turned to him. "And you?"

"I have business to attend to here. I'll contact you when I return."

She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, rubbing her hand over her tired and sore eyes.

And us? she wanted to say.

But he had already gone.

Chloe stabbed at the keyboard, scrolling down to the end of the electronic form. She hit send, then pushed back her chair and crossed command room to where Drake was working. "It's done," she said. "Every detail of the trip to Coruscant complete, with times as accurate as I can remember."

"Good," Drake said. "I'll send you a copy when it's in the system."

Chloe nodded, turning away. "My shuttle leaves in twenty minutes. Good bye Commander."

"Will General Kenobi be accompanying you?"

Chloe stopped. "No. He's not finished yet."

"Hmm," Drake said, and then paused, as if he wanted to say something else.

Chloe couldn't be bothered to ask what. Her head was thumping, and her eyelids felt like sandpaper, and her throat was sore and swollen from crying.

"It would appear," Drake continued, "that the fearsome General Kenobi deserves his reputation, after all."

Chloe's looked at him blankly, considering simply walking away. The very last thing she wanted to do right now was talk about Obi-Wan.

Drake smiled. "The Jedi tend to have a reputation for being a soft touch, but it's clear he is not afraid to follow through on his word."

Chloe sighed wearily. "Commander Drake, I'm trying not to be rude but I'm really not in the mood for guessing games. If you have something to say, just say it."

"Military protocol," said Drake, "commonly known as whatever it takes." Again he paused, dramatically.

Just when Chloe was about to give up on courtesy and walk off, a memory clicked into place. Just before Obi-Wan had set off, Drake had asked him what would happen if her father refused to cooperate. And that phrase, military protocol, had been Obi-Wan's answer.

Chloe rubbed her forehead, her eyes screwed up against her headache. "Sorry. Remind me…"

Drake seemed eager to oblige. "Military protocol states that if someone refuses to cooperate on a matter of galactic security, no method of coercion is prohibited, and neither his health, his sanity nor his life will protected."

Confused, Chloe looked up at him through bleary eyes. "Coercion? You mean physical coercion? Torture?"

Drake smiled. "I mean. Whatever. It. Takes."

"What exactly are you accusing him of?"

Drake shrugged. "Nothing. Such as accusation would be impossible since the implementation of military protocol is never documented in writing. Saves on undesirable legal complications. But General Kenobi's report is sparse, to say the least. And it seems rather convenient that your father was left behind, don't you think?"

Chloe shook her head, almost laughing. "He would never do any such thing. It's wrong. And against everything the Jedi stand for."

Drake smiled. "And war not only blurs the boundaries of good and evil, but demands the greatest of sacrifices. Perhaps even of one's own principles."

Much as she disliked Drake, Chloe found herself unable to dismiss that comment. And although her instinct, her heart, her everything told her that Obi-Wan would not knowingly inflict violence on an innocent man, not even for his good of his—of their—precious Republic, she was still haunted by the feeling that Obi-Wan was concealing something from her. Something had happened on Nelvaan, and he didn't want to talk about it.

On the trip back to Coruscant, Chloe dreamed of her father, her wonderful, strong father, as she had last seen him, smiling, laughing, telling to behave herself when he was gone. But then the dream changed, and instead she saw him, on his knees, bewildered, frightened, pleading that he didn't know, he couldn't help, that there was nothing he could do.

And above him, holding a lightsaber to his neck, feature set in icy determination, was Obi-Wan.