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“Only because of your training, Master—”

“That’s just an excuse. You’re the hero. Go spend your glorious day surrounded by—” Obi-Wan allowed himself a slightly disparaging cough. “—politicians.”

“Come on, Master—you owe me. And not just for saving your skin for the tenth time—”

“Ninth time. Cato Neimoidia doesn’t count; it was your fault in the first place.” Obi-Wan waved him off. “See you at the Outer Rim briefing in the morning.”

“Well … all right. Just this once.” Anakin laughed and waved, and then headed briskly off to catch up with Palpatine as the Chancellor waded into the Senators with the smooth-as-oiled-transparisteel ease of the lifelong politician.

The hatch cycled shut, the shuttle lifted off, and Obi-Wan’s smile faded as he turned to Mace Windu. “You wanted to speak with me.”

Windu moved close to Obi-Wan’s position by the window, nodding out at the scene on the landing platform. “It’s Anakin. I don’t like his relationship with Palpatine.”

“We’ve had this conversation before.”

“There is something between them. Something new. I could see it in the Force.” Mace’s voice was flat and grim. “It felt powerful. And incredibly dangerous.”

Obi-Wan spread his hands. “I trust Anakin with my life.”

“I know you do. I only wish we could trust the Chancellor with Anakin’s.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, frowning. “Palpatine’s policies are … sometimes questionable. But he dotes on Anakin like a kindly old uncle on his favorite nephew.”

Mace stared out the window. “The Chancellor loves power. If he has any other passion, I have not seen it.”

Obi-Wan shook his head with a trace of disbelief. “I recall that not so long ago, you were something of an admirer of his.”

“Things,” Mace Windu said grimly, “change.”

Flying over a landscape pocked with smoldering wreckage where once tall buildings filled with living beings had gleamed in the sun, toward a Temple filled with memories of so many, many Jedi who would never return from this war, Obi-Wan could not disagree.

After a moment, he said, “What would you have me do?”

“I am not certain. You know my power; I cannot always interpret what I’ve seen. Be alert. Be mindful of Anakin, and be careful of Palpatine. He is not to be trusted, and his influence on Anakin is dangerous.”

“But Anakin is the chosen one—”

“All the more reason to fear an outsider’s influence. We have circumstantial evidence that traces Sidious to Palpatine’s inner circle.”

Suddenly Obi-Wan had difficulty breathing. “Are you certain?”

Mace shook his head. “Nothing is certain. But this raid—the capture of Palpatine had to be an inside job. And the timing … we were closing in on him, Master Kenobi! The information you and Anakin discovered—we had traced the Sith Lord to an abandoned factory in The Works, not far from where Anakin landed the cruiser. When the attack began, we were tracking him through the downlevel tunnels.” Mace stared out the viewport at a vast residential complex that dominated the skyline to the west. “The trail led to the sub-basement of Five Hundred Republica.”

Five Hundred Republica was the most exclusive address on the planet. Its inhabitants included only the incredibly wealthy or the incredibly powerful, from Raith Sienar of the Sienar Systems conglomerate to Palpatine himself. Obi-Wan could only say, “Oh.”

“We have to face the possibility—the probability—that what Dooku told you on Geonosis was actually true. That the Senate is under the influence—under the control—of Darth Sidious. That it has been for years.”

“Do you—” Obi-Wan had to swallow before he could go on. “Do you have any suspects?”

“Too many. All we know of Sidious is that he’s bipedal, of roughly human conformation. Sate Pestage springs to mind. I wouldn’t rule out Mas Amedda, either. The Sith Lord might even be hiding among the Red Guards. There’s no way to know.”

“Who’s handling the questioning?” Obi-Wan asked. “I’d be happy to sit in; my perceptions are not so refined as some, but—”

Mace shook his head. “Interrogate the Supreme Chancellor’s personal aides and