Slaves Of The Empire {1}

| Interlude |

A year and eleven months ago...

Obi-Wan was waiting for Anakin when he scampered back up the steps to the chancellor's mansion and slipped through the foyer. Even in the crowded hallway beyond, the forensics team and other personnel gave the Jedi Master a wide berth. His refined manner and impeccably appearance intimidated some people, but after years of close friendship, Anakin was confident Obi-Wan was one of the warmest people he'd ever met.

Today, though, the other man's expression was dark and somber.

"Hello, Master," Anakin said, raising his voice a little so the words coasted over the din of beeping consoles and miscellaneous chatter of droids and humanoids both. "We weren't expecting you to join us – what with me and Ahsoka being far away from Coruscant when it happened clearing us of suspicion, and all that."

Obi-Wan's gloom deepened. Anakin forced a smile and hoped the questioning frown that was fighting to take its place didn't slip out through his eyes instead.

Obi-Wan lifted one of his crossed arms to stroke his beard. The gesture was more natural, less confined, without the gauntlets and pauldrons he customarily wore on the battlefield. "You should have, with the stunt you just pulled."

Anakin started, but checked himself with the memory of Padmé's soothing hand on his shoulder before he got too defensive. On closer inspection, Obi-Wan didn't seem angry, only worried.

"Rumors about the chancellor's condition are gaining weight with every hour that passes," Obi-Wan continued, "and you left his home with Senator Amidala on your arm when no one would have seen you go in. Were I a casual observer, that would suggest you made use of a secret passage."

"So? Palpatine is – was – the leader of the Senate. A secret passage or two to ensure his safety isn't unheard of, and ensuring his safety is the Order's job," Anakin shot back, but he had a sinking feeling he knew where Obi-Wan was going with this.

"Anakin, think. Everyone who called on the chancellor in the last three days – Senators, military, personal friends – all of them were turned away at the door. Now Jedi Knights are inexplicably appearing and disappearing? That would seem to me like something is going on with the chancellor the Jedi don't want getting out."

Anakin cursed himself silently. He'd been so caught up in seeing Padmé again he hadn't stopped to think, hadn't thought to argue Ahsoka's cheeky maneuvering or protest her underlying concern for his mental health. It would help their case that Palpatine had been public about his friendship with Anakin, but Obi-Wan was right: if the chancellor's mansion was being watched (which was essentially a given, between the HoloNet reporters and the spies sent by his political rivals) Anakin had just put the secrecy of the investigation in serious jeopardy.

Anakin groaned and ran a hand through his hair, struggling to regain that sense of apprehensive calmness from the second half of the speeder ride, imagining Padmé's touch was something physical that could rub off on him and be stored up for later. "Forgive me, Master," he said finally. "I wasn't thinking. I'm not used to all this sneaking around."

Well, technically that was a lie. But he had a lot more practice sneaking to Padmé's penthouse apartment than he had sneaking to the chancellor's home, of all places. It wasn't his fault the Council hadn't given him an explanation for what to do in an emergency; if anything, he thought he'd done rather well to distract her.

Until he'd broken down crying and told her everything, of course. But Obi-Wan didn't know that part, and Anakin wasn't about to tell him.

Obi-Wan uncrossed his arms and took Anakin's hands. "Please, old friend, be more careful. Our time to find answers is limited enough as it is. If our margin for error thins much more..."