Thicker Than Blood

Chapter 7

I slumped onto the bench in our ship, utterly exhausted and discouraged. We had searched all the rest of the day for Ahsoka, but we had turned up nothing. A small squadron of droids was all that we found. The worst part was that I could sense her. I knew she was here ... somewhere. I just didn't know where. Any time I tried to pinpoint her location, I was smacked in the face by the Dark Side, by guilt at her being taken, and by pain that came from her. Maul hadn't been treating her appallingly, but he wasn't waiting on her hand and foot, that was for sure.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I rubbed my face with my hands, feeling that headache, which had been developing all day, settling in for the long haul. "Well, that was great," I commented dryly to Obi-Wan, who was digging around in the cupboard for some dinner.

He emerged with a couple of food packs and handed one to me, then sat down on the bench opposite me, eating his meal. "Perhaps it didn't go as well as we might have hoped, but this was our first day of searching, Anakin. Don't give up yet."

I sighed heavily, picking unenthusiastically at my dinner. "I know. But every minute we spend not finding her is another minute she gets to suffer at the hands of D—" I panicked, choking on the mouthful I had just eaten, coughing hard.

Obi-Wan glanced up, fork poised mid-air. "Are you alright?"

I nodded silently, focusing on my breathing. If I made a big enough deal of it, hopefully he would forget about what I had been saying.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly, fork still hovering above his meal, his eyes running over me.

I nodded again, coughing hard into my left arm, trying to supress the wince caused by my moving it. My shoulder was singing with pain, both from the blaster wounds and from Maul's vicious twisting earlier, but I couldn't let Obi-Wan know.

"Can you breathe?" he asked lightly, continuing to eat his dinner, though he kept half an eye on me.

"Yeah, I can breathe," I croaked, smirking at the expression from Obi-Wan that my weak answer elicited. "Don't worry, something just tried to get digested in my lungs." I chewed on my smile as I waited for him to process my comment.

He grabbed a mouthful of his dinner, then almost choked on it when he realized what I had said. He broke into laughter, putting his fork down. "Our food is fighting back, Anakin. Maybe we should stop eating."

I allowed myself to laugh a little as well. "Yeah, maybe we should." Then I yawned and stretched, freezing as pain ripped through my body. Maul had got me good. Sneaking a glance at Obi-Wan, I was relieved to see that he hadn't noticed. "We should probably get some sleep."

"Yes, you're right." He scraped up the remains of his meal, then straightened and offered to take my half-full container. His eyes ran over all the untouched food, but he refrained from saying anything.

While he moved around in the ship's cabin, tidying things here and there and rolling out his sleeping bag, I sat with my elbows on my knees and chin in my palms, staring glassy-eyed at nothing. I was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan making comments and talking about plans for tomorrow, but I couldn't bring myself to give him my full attention. I was too tired, physically and mentally. Maul's words were rattling around my brain like a thousand tiny pins, stinging more each time they came to the front of my mind. "What does that make you?" I couldn't win against him; he was right. I had failed miserably – again. Not only did his words hurt, though, they also scared me. And I had told myself a hundred times that I shouldn't let it get to my head, that I shouldn't be afraid. But I feared for Ahsoka's life, and I feared for Obi-Wan's. "Mark my words, Chosen One, I will not be appeased until I have blood. I want revenge on your excuse of a master, and I intend to get it." What was I against that?