Yet again, Anakin has gotten himself and his master into a predicament.

Not one mission can be gone on without Anakin messing up. Like this one.

"Master," Anakin grunts, laying his head back against the durasteel wall behind him. Wounds and bruises adorn his body, and Obi-Wan glares at him. They hide out in a supply closet, buying time before you come to retrieve them.

"Soon, Anakin." Obiwan mutters, arms crossed over his chest. "Damian will be here soon."