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“Hey, Obi-Wan—should we just kill these guys?”
The words were not spoken quietly. Just the same, Obi-Wan found himself croaking, “What?”
“This place is still crawling with guards, with Conditioners,” Anakin said, his voice unsettlingly level, “A lot of them are probably still headed here.” His eyes were fixed on the body of the Overseer, half-smashed through the monitor on the wall. “Should we just kill them?”
Obi-Wan felt a sudden, sick lurch in his stomach. Sick that his former apprentice would make the suggestion, even more that he didn’t wholly disagree. His hand clenched, knuckles still bloodied from punching through Zygerrian armor. “Anakin…”
He didn’t seem to hear. “The way I feel now, I could probably do it all myself.”
Anakin wasn’t far, physically, but the Force made it feel otherwise; there was a pressure on the rise there that made Obi-Wan’s head ache, made that sick feeling turn to bile burning in his throat. He staggered on the first step that he took toward the other man, recovered and pushed on. It felt like he was moving toward the eye of a mounting storm, the churning currents of the Force a nearly physical presence as he drew closer to Anakin; he could hear him talking to himself now, “It would be so easy.”
Laying his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, Obi-Wan’s throat worked, thick and dry, before he could summon his voice. “But I don’t think it should be.”
Obi-Wan rocked on his heels one last time as, sudden as a clap of thunder, that heavy pressure in the Force lifted. An almost imperceptible shake of Anakin’s head and it was as if he’d been brought back to himself from someplace far away, the world refocused. “Yes,” he said softly, cowed, “of course, Master.”
“Generals!”
Both turned toward the sound of Rex’s voice at the door, neither sure of when he’d slipped away, or for how long—or when he’d acquired a blaster. “I’ve cleared the hallway, we should move!”
He was right; there was no telling how long it would stay clear and they needed to join the troops from the 104th. But though the worst of the unsettling moment had passed, there was still a faint hum of static in the Force that left Obi-Wan feeling shaken. He moved his hand to Anakin’s face, turned it so he could hold his gaze. “Anakin, come,” he said, grounding, “Ahsoka needs us.”
A sharpness returned to his eyes, then, Anakin seizing on a better way to direct his roiling energy. A tight nod, “Let’s go.”