When You Come Home

-22-

"We're going to get into so much trouble for this," Ahsoka sing-songed as she skipped beside Anakin, "but only if we get caught!"

Anakin shot her a wordless glance as they stopped outside a backdoor leading into the palace. Having scaled a pointed fence, traversed across immaculate lawns, and sneaked around labyrinthine hedges, they had discovered the kitchen door through which Rako had left earlier that day. Illuminated only by the watery moonlight that fell from the black velvet sky, the darkness inside the kitchen chided the teens for the late night excursion. The cooks were in bed, and so should they be. But Anakin stuck a bent paper clip in the lock and began fiddling in defiance. He would not be constrained by the limitations of time. He had a mission to complete, and nothing would get in his way until he had.

"Do you think they alarm the doors?" Ahsoka hissed as Anakin popped the lock.

"Don't worry," he reassured her as they sneaked inside, "we shouldn't have been able to make it this far already. They won't be expecting anyone to find this door, either, so they won't bother alarming anything."

"What are we even looking for?" Ahsoka whispered as she blended with the shadows to pass through the abandoned kitchen.

Anakin glanced at her, unsure whether she was joking or not. She was the one how had suggested this, after all.

They left the kitchen by a different door to the one they had used at the dinner, pausing to peer into the dark hallway stretching ahead of them. Spreading out like a flattened oak tree, the branches wound in all directions, some glowing with golden LED lights encased in smoky glass, others cloaked in the blackness of sleep. Nothing was signposted.

They crouched behind a boxy bonsai pot plant as a pair of night guards wandered past, their white torches flashing from side to side. They chatted casually, obviously unconcerned about a potential attack.

"Did you hear that Hardeen came back today?" the shorter one commented. "He broke into the kitchen today."

"What's new?" the other one groaned. "He's always breaking into the kitchen."

"He must be the only outsider in all of Mandalore who knows about that backdoor," the first one continued. "No one except for the chefs and staff use that one."

"So why do we have to patrol the area if no one is going to get in?"

"Do you want to get paid or not?"

They went off grumbling to themselves, so Anakin motioned for Ahsoka to follow him further down the hall. They came to a crossways, and Anakin hesitated. Every darkened cavern and lighted tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly like the blackhole of Beggar's Canyon in Coruscant. The palace was huge, and Anakin had never seen anything even resembling a map. For some reason, he had hoped this moment wouldn't come. It was foolish and thoughtless, and he knew he shouldn't have come here without a plan, but worse than that, he had dragged Ahsoka along as well —

"What are you waiting for?" Ahsoka made Anakin jump. "Which way are we going?"

He grimaced. "That's the problem .... I'm not too sure."

She giggled. "It's just as well I know the layout of the palace, then, isn't it?"

"Why didn't you say so before?" He shook his head in exasperation, then waved her on. "Lead the way."

"Where do you want to go?" she questioned as she picked a dimly passage to their right.

"Where do you think we should go?" he responded. "Which of the rooms that you have memorised seems like the best place to start?"

Her mouth snapped shut as she blinked thoughtfully. Then a sly smile spread across her lips as she gestured for him to follow. "Stay close."

Try as Anakin might, the halls and rooms all merged into a mess of expensive carpet, spotless windows, and interminable corridors. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to anything, and Anakin was starting to wonder if the architectural beauty had been constructed with no thought for sense or practicality. The lavishness of the unnecessary additions, the rare ornaments, and the artfully obscure themes all screamed posh richness. It was no wonder people like Rako were protesting the extravagant lifestyle of the Duchess.