(A/N) I'm so sorry for not updating, I haven't actually had a working keyboard for almost two weeks! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

He had resigned any idea of comfortable sleep, at least for the time being. He had decided that it must have been a particular cruelty, seen as an honor by Miraj, that Obi-Wan was being held in the room between herself and Anakin. He had thought, naively he was realizing, that they would allow Obi-Wan to at least sleep. But the breaking in of slaves was an all night business, and he could hear them barking orders, dull thuds on fists and bars striking deep into already damaged flesh. He supposed the Queen, able to hear everything he could, was getting some sort of sick enjoyment from this; it had been going on for almost an hour and showed no signs of relenting.

But rather than sleep, though his body ached with tiredness, he had decided to contact the temple. His mission would have to be to remove Rex, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan from the palace; another team of Jedi would have to rescue the Togrutans on Kiros. He had managed to rig the old comlink in his room, a courtesy line usually only adept at interior calls. That had been the first thing he fixed, and was now picking up signals as far as the inner rim. But in this was the risk he was taking, he was gambling on the device not to be able to trace calls that went out of the city, but he had no guarantee of that. If they heard his message, they would surely kill all three of them, but if he didn't send it, there was fair chance of that regardless.

He held his hands to his lips, gesturing for silence, as the communication came into view. He begged them to understand, and as the semi-circle of the council around the war table came into view, it seemed that they did, all blinking, one almost speaking, but no noise being made.

"Kiros." He said, as quietly as they could where he knew they could still speak. "Slavery compound. 212th General captured. 501st undercover. Do not return transmission. Separatist forces on Zygerria. Will contact again." And, only seeing the beginning of a nod from Mace Windu, he shut the communication down as a loud knock came to the door.

Keeping it still hidden, he grasped his light sabers between his fingers. In his head, he felt the twin relief of having told the council of the slaves on Kiros, and the terror at what that might have cost. He pushed the emotions away from his face, channeling every ounce of restraint training he possessed.

He opened the door to a guard, eyes clinking slowly under his helmet. "Can I help you?" Anakin said, unable to keep the coldness from his tone. This could be a guard that had tortured Obi-Wan, who he could hear now being throne against the stone walls of the room he was locked in.

"Can I come in, Sir?" His first reaction was to tighten his grip on his saber, but his mind was already racing. The accent was off; not terrible, but not natural. He regarded the guard, he was more well-built, with broad shoulders and heavy muscles under his armor, as opposed to the stick-thin native Zygerrians who were dependent on intimidation for success. He actually gave a small smile, recognizing the eyes under their cold façade as his battered, but determined Captain.

He let the door shut behind them, but neither spoke; with guards on the other side and the room perhaps bugged, there was a good chance they would be heard, arrested, or killed. There was silence for a moment, then Anakin could hear the clanking of chains. He glanced at the wall, the time was exactly on the hour, Obi-Wan must be done for now; but Rex seemed to shudder a bit at the sound.

"I was on prison duty." The clone said, maintaining his accent. The thought made Anakin's stomach turn, he knew then, everything they had done to the Jedi Master. He fought back the bile in his throat, allowing Rex to turn to face him. "Have you been able to contact people on your home planet, Mr. Quell?"

"I made contact earlier and informed them of the situation." The guard nodded, and Anakin could tell he wanted to say more, needed to say more, but now was not the time. It was not safe.

"Have a good night then, Sir." He turned to leave, stepping out of the door that Anakin held open again.

"The others will arrive in three days time." But Rex was already moving down the hall, past where he was now, and he had no way of knowing if the clone had heard or understood him. So he slammed the door, ignoring the suicidal desire to check on his master in the next room, and instead, began to dress for sleep. He faded the lights, the quiet sounds of the city below providing his mind enough distraction to not focus on the horrors of the last few days.

He slid into an uneasy rest, allowing his body the recovery it needed, his tired limbs grateful for the soft bed they were allowed to lie on. He counted it as a good rest, at least for a couple of hours.

When his eyes opened again, after those two hours, the room was still dark with night, but the electric shocks they used to wake Obi-Wan hit his ears harshly, followed by the barking of unanswerable commands, and the cracking of what he knew to be a whip. He turned on his side, facing the wall that separated them; and even though they finished in half-an-hour as they had the time before, he couldn't sleep the rest of the night.