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“Hang on,” he heard Anakin say. “We’re in a bit of a situation here.”

So it was Anakin’s butt after all. He supposed he might take a modicum of comfort from that. Looking up, he discovered Anakin’s legs, and his boots—and a somewhat astonishing close-up view of the Supreme Chancellor, as Palpatine seemingly balanced overhead, supported only by a white-knuckled death-grip on Anakin’s ankle.

“Oh, hello, Chancellor,” he said mildly. “Are you well?”

The Chancellor cast a distressed glance over his shoulder. “I hope so …”

Obi-Wan followed the Chancellor’s gaze; above Palpatine rose a long, long vertical shaft—

Which was when he finally realized that he wasn’t looking up at all.

This must be what Anakin had meant by a bit of a situation.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said. At least he was finally coming to understand where he stood.

Well, lay. Hung. Whatever.

“And Count Dooku?”

Anakin said, “Dead.”

“Pity.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Alive, he might have been a help to us.”

“Obi-Wan—”

“Not in this particular situation, granted, but nonetheless—”

“Can we discuss this later? The ship’s breaking apart.”

“Ah.”

A familiar electrosonic feroo-wheep came thinly through someone’s comlink. “Was that Artoo? What does he want?”

“I asked him to activate the elevator,” Anakin said.

From the distant darkness above came a clank, and a shirr, and a clonk, all of which evoked in Obi-Wan’s still-somewhat-addled brain the image of turbolift brakes unlocking. The accuracy of his imagination was swiftly confirmed by a sudden downdraft that smelled strongly of burning oil, followed closely by the bottom of a turbolift pod hurtling down the shaft like a meteorite down a well.

Obi-Wan said, “Oh.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time—”

“No need to get defensive.”

“Artoo!” Anakin shouted. “Shut it down!”

“No time for that,” Obi-Wan said. “Jump.”

“Jump?” Palpatine asked with a shaky laugh. “Don’t you mean, fall?”

“Um, actually, yes. Anakin—?”

Anakin let go.

They fell.

And fell. The sides of the turboshaft blurred.

And fell some more, until the gravitic vector finally eased a couple of degrees and they found themselves sliding along the side of the shaft, which was quickly turning into the bottom of the shaft, and the lift pod was still shrieking toward them faster than they could possibly run until Anakin finally got the comlink working and shouted, “Artoo, open the doors! All of them! All floors!”

One door opened just as they skidded onto it and all three of them tumbled through. They landed in a heap on a turbolift lobby’s opposite wall as the pod shot past overhead.

They gradually managed to untangle themselves. “Are … all of your rescues so …” Palpatine gasped breathlessly. “… entertaining?”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a thoughtful frown.

Anakin returned it with a shrug.

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Obi-Wan said, “yes.”

Anakin stared into the tangled masses of wreckage that littered the hangar bay, trying to pick out anything that still even resembled a ship. This place looked as if it had taken a direct hit; wind howled against his back through the open hatchway where Obi-Wan stood with Chancellor Palpatine, and scraps of debris whirled into the air, blown toward space through gaps in the scorched and buckled blast doors.

“None of those ships will get us anywhere!” Palpatine shouted above the wind, and Anakin had to agree. “What are we going to do?”

Anakin shook his head. He didn’t know, and the Force wasn’t offering any clues. “Obi-Wan?”

“How should I know?” Obi-Wan said, bracing himself in the doorway, robe whipping in the wind. “You’re the hero, I’m just a Master!”

Past Obi-Wan’s shoulder Anakin saw a cadre of super battle droids marching around a corner into the corridor. “Master! Behind you!”

Obi-Wan whirled, lightsaber flaring to meet a barrage of blaster bolts. “Protect the Chancellor!”

And let you have all the fun? Anakin pulled the Chancellor into the hangar bay and pressed him against the wall beside the hatch. “Stay under cover until we handle the droids!”

He was about to jump out beside Obi-Wan when he remembered