Chapter Text
“You know, this really isn’t fair,” Anakin complains. He runs his flesh hand through his long hair. Unfortunately, upon returning to their universe, Anakin’s mech hand also made a reappearance, though he does not seem as bothered by this as he does by his current predicament. “It’s not fair that I have to do all this work saving the galaxy and the universe and all of that, only to have to do it again ! Not fair at all.”
“Hopefully, this time, saving the galaxy goes smoother than last time,” Obi-Wan says.
“Yeah, and you better stay conscious this time.”
“I certainly plan to.”
“Because our plans always work.”
“I have a feeling this one will work,” Obi-Wan says with a sideways grin.
Anakin leans his head back against the headrest of the co-pilot’s chair. Dark circles still hang under his eyes. He slept for fifteen hours in the ship’s bunk before finally rousing himself and stumbling into the cockpit. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to think about what could have happened if Anakin had pushed himself any farther than he did.
“There is still one problem, though,” Anakin says, interrupting Obi-Wan’s observations. “How are we going to get into Coruscant airspace without clearance codes? We can’t use our Jedi codes, or they’ll be able to trace it back to us.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve got another set of codes we can use.”
Anakin looks at him incredulously. “What? From where?”
“Hondo Ohnaka owed me a debt. I gave him a call while you were asleep.”
“You’re trusting that pirate scumbag to give us the right clearance codes?”
“I reassured him he’s my best friend, so next time we run into him, I’m going to need you to be a little less friendly with me.”
Anakin scoffs. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll slip in and out of Coruscant. Our alibi is solid. Everyone believes we’re still searching for Maul.”
“And you’re sure Maul has been taken care of?” Anakin asks, disbelief still in his voice.
“You heard it yourselves, the Night Sisters owed us a debt. Besides, it’s their fault Maul exists at all. If anyone can handle him, it is the Night Sisters.”
“Fine. How long until we reach Coruscant.”
“You don’t want to know,” Obi-Wan says.
Anakin groans. “I never thought I’d get sick of flying and yet…”
“Fortunately, we never have to return to Dathomir again. That chapter is behind us.”
Anakin sinks further into his chair, allowing his body to deflate slightly. Obi-Wan looks at him with concern. “You should rest a little while longer. I can keep an eye on the ship.”
“What about you?”
“The ship has been on autopilot. I’ve slept. You needn’t worry about me.”
Anakin eyes him suspiciously. No matter how hard he tries, Anakin will always worry about Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan will always worry about Anakin.
“Now go,” Obi-Wan insists. “I have this covered. I’ll wake you when we near Coruscant.”
Anakin must be even more tired than he looks because he offers no further argument. “You better. If those clearance codes don’t work, I want to be awake so I can tell you I told you so.”
Obi-Wan laughs lightly. “Just go to sleep.”
Anakin pulls his robe tightly around himself and makes his way back to the bunk. Obi-Wan listens to his heavy footsteps as he goes.
Left alone in the cockpit with only the stars to keep him company, Obi-Wan settles into a light meditation. He must be prepared for what is to come.
Obi-Wan is only a little surprised when the clearance codes work. Sometimes it’s beneficial to have friends in low places. Or frenemies, in this case.
Anakin takes over flying and lands the ship in a scrap yard. The Jedi ship is too conspicuous for them to land where they actually need to go. They rent a speeder under pseudonyms and with physical credits only. They hide their faces under the hoods of dark blue cloaks and they switch out their regular tunics for street clothes more popular on Alderaan, but suitable enough for the mixed cultural landscape of Coruscant. Their lightsabers remain carefully tucked away and hidden in their cloaks.
They park the speeder a few blocks away from the imposing figure of the senate building. The crowds are easy enough to blend into as they walk to the building.
Once inside, their hoods remain on. Nobody bothers to look at them. They’re all too busy running from meeting to meeting to notice two Jedi in disguise. Besides, their disguises are enhanced by Obi-Wan silently using the Force to will everyone around them to turn a blind eye.
Obi-Wan has never liked the Senate building. It’s filled with politicians, and politicians are largely corrupted liars, with a few shining exceptions. The ill intent seems to coat the walls and seep into the Force. It sends a shiver down his spine every time he walks these halls, and today, the halls seem longer than usual. But this is only because of what lies at the end of them.
He brushes up against Anakin’s presence in the Force but finds his shields fortified so tight, even he can’t get in. He must be terrified then.
“Keep your nerves, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says softly.
“I am ,” Anakin hisses. “Stop tapping on my shields, it’s annoying.”
“It’s not too late to get the help of the Council,” Obi-Wan whispers.
“No. It needs to be this way.”
“Then breathe .”
To his credit, Anakin takes a deep breath, but his shields remain locked tight.
Before Obi-Wan can lose his own nerve, they reach the Chancellor’s office.
“Now or never,” Anakin breathes.
“Now or never,” Obi-Wan repeats.
Anakin knocks on the Chancellor’s office door and a wide-eyed secretary opens it moments later.
“Do you have an appointment?” the young Rodian asks.
“No,” Anakin says. “But the Chancellor has an open door policy for me.”
Obi-Wan fights back the urge to raise an eyebrow at this. There is so much he never knew about Anakin’s relationship with Palpatine and the weight of the unknown threatens to crush his ribs. Instead, he keeps his expression passive.
“Ah yes, Master Skywalker,” the secretary says. “Come in.”
Obi-Wan steps in behind Anakin, but the Rodian puts a hand on his chest. “Not you.” Obi-Wan glares down at the Rodian with barely held-back contempt.
“He’s coming with me,” Anakin says.
“The open door policy only applies to you,” the Rodian argues.
“If you don’t let both of us in, the Chancellor will hear about how you turned me away from a very important meeting with him.” Anakin stares down the Rodian, his gaze dark and threatening.
“Right. Of course. Come in, please,” the Rodian secretary says to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan steps inside and brushes his billowy street shirt with his hands. He and Anakin both pull their hoods down.
The Rodian knocks on an interior door that leads to Palpatine’s office. “Chancellor, Anakin Skywalker and his…” the Rodian trails off and looks at Obi-Wan. “...And his… friend are here to see you.”
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. A flash of a smirk crosses Anakin’s lips, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
“Ah yes,” the muffled voice of Chancellor Palpatine calls out.“Do send them in!”
Obi-Wan’s stomach flutters with the same anticipation he gets before dropping from a fighter jet into the heart of a battle. This task, however, feels more dangerous. He checks his shields and ensures they are as fortified as Anakin’s.
The door opens, revealing Palpatine sitting at his desk. The large windows behind him display Coruscant’s shining skyline glittering in the afternoon sun. It’s a normal day. The speeders drive by and honk their horns while Obi-Wan and Anakin stand before the Sith Lord. It’s a normal day.
“Ah, Master Skywalker, Master Kenobi, what a lovely surprise. I was led to believe you two were on a mission in search of that horrible… oh, what do you Jedi call them again? Ah yes. That horrible Sith.”
“We were,” Anakin says. “We hit a dead end. But on our journey, we discovered something exciting and we wanted to bring it to your attention.”
“Both of you?” Palpatine questions.
Anakin hesitates.
“Forgive me,” Palpatine says. “What a rude question! You’re welcome here anytime, Master Kenobi. It’s just, it’s usually only Anakin who visits me.”
“Yes, forgive me my neglect,” Obi-Wan says. “But Anakin and I were traveling together on our way back to The Negotiator for a strategy meeting, but we felt the need to stop and consult with you first.”
“I see,” Palpatine says. If he hadn’t been looking for it, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have seen the suspicion in his eyes. “Now tell me, what is this exciting news you wish to speak of?”
“It’s about General Grievous,” Obi-Wan says.
Palpatine raises an eyebrow.
“We’ve located him,” Anakin says. “No one knows except for me, Obi-Wan, and now you. Not even the council knows. This way we ensure there are no leaks to warn him, as this has been happening quite a lot recently. We’ll get him this time.”
“Oh, that is exciting news!” Palpatine says, his voice overly enthused.
“Yes, normally I am not one for early celebrations, but this could mean the end of the war,” Obi-Wan says, projecting a slight amount of giddiness into his voice.
“Well, it seems a celebration is in order,” Palpatine says.
Obi-Wan nods at a drink cart by the wall. “Care to share a drink with us?”
“You tempt me,” Palpatine says. “But I shouldn’t. I have meetings the rest of the day.”
“Surely one drink isn’t enough to inhibit you, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan goads. “Just one toast to the end of the war?”
“Master, don’t pressure the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic into doing something he doesn’t want to do. If he’s not up to drinking with us, then he’s not up to it!”
“Now, Anakin, I think I can handle one drink with you two.”
Obi-Wan laughs and claps his hands. “Wonderful! Anakin, go fetch us some drinks.”
“I thought when I stopped being your Padawan, you would stop bossing me around,” Anakin whines, but he stands up and heads to the bar cart.
“So with the war ending, I suppose your emergency powers will have to come to an end,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Palpatine’s attention away from Anakin and back onto him.
“Of course,” Palpatine says. “But wars don’t really end just like that, now do they Kenobi? There’s going to be refugees and investigations. Trials and debts to be paid off.”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan agrees. He glances over to Anakin and watches him set down a bottle and carefully hold onto the three glasses. “But we’re celebrating! Let’s not speak of such things just yet.”
Anakin sets the glasses on the desk and passes one to Palpatine first and then to Obi-Wan before taking his own.
“Thank you, Anakin,” Palpatine says.
“You’re welcome Chancellor,” Anakin replies dutifully.
“A toast then?” Obi-Wan raises his glass. “To the end of the war. To an age of peace. To a new hope.”
“Cheers,” Anakin and Palpatine say, clinking their glasses against Obi-Wan’s.
Obi-Wan takes a sip of the amber whiskey but keeps careful eyes on Palpatine. Anakin’s face scrunches up in disgust as he tastes the whiskey. It’s a strong one and most definitely expensive. Certainly not in Anakin’s palette, but Obi-Wan finds it quite a luxurious experience.
Especially as he watches Palpatine’s pale skin blanche even more.
“This is a lovely vintage,” Obi-Wan says. “Where did you get this?”
“It was imported from Corellia, I…” Palpatine clears his throat.
Obi-Wan sets his drink down on the desk and looks at Palpatine with feigned concern. “Chancellor, are you quite alright?”
Palpatine sets down his own drink on the desk with a shaking hand. His arm clutches his chest and he looks to Anakin with a sudden seething rage. “What did you do?”
“I am fulfilling the prophecy, that is all,” Anakin says. His voice is carefully void of emotion and his expression is blank.
Palpatine raises his hand and forms it into a C. Pressure immediately constricts Obi-Wan’s airways, and he gasps uselessly for breath. Anakin throws out his own hand and blocks the current of the Force being used to choke Obi-Wan.
“Don’t touch him,” Anakin growls.
Obi-Wan coughs and gasps on the cool air. “Technically,” Obi-Wan gasps. “He wasn’t touching me.”
Anakin rolls his eyes, but maintains his position holding back Palpatine. It is obvious the Sith Lord is powerful, but his strength is waning fast as the poison the Night Sisters gave them works its way to stopping his heart.
“Anakin,” Palpatine gasps, desperation growing in his eyes.
“You are no longer in control,” Anakin says. “You do not control the galaxy. You do not control the war. You do not control me. You are done.”
Palpatine lowers his hand and stops channeling the dark side toward Obi-Wan. Anakin lowers his hand in turn.
Palpatine takes a few shuddering breaths before his chest stops moving entirely. Obi-Wan knows he is dead.
“May the Force be with you,” Anakin snarls.
Anakin and Obi-Wan sit in silence for a moment, staring at the corpse of the Sith Lord who was almost the ruin of them all.
“It’s over,” Obi-Wan says. The Force immediately feels lighter, just as it did in the other universe. “For real this time. We’re free.”
“We’re free,” Anakin whispers. “We’re free.”
“Come on,” Obi-Wan says. “We need to make sure no one knows we were ever here. Natural causes, remember?”
“Natural causes,” Anakin repeats.
Obi-Wan picks up his glass of whiskey and downs it in one swig. Using his shirt, he wipes it clean and sets it back on the bar cart. Obi-Wan watches Anakin take a hesitant sip of his own whiskey and grimace.
“Oh, just give me that,” Obi-Wan chides. He takes the drink from Anakin and downs it just as quickly as he did with his own. “I can’t believe I raised you this way.”
“It’s gross!” Anakin complains.
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and wipes the glass clean. Anakin tucks their chairs back into place and scans the room for any additional signs they were there.
“I think we’re in the clear, Master,” Anakin says.
“Yes. I believe so. Let’s go pay the lovely secretary a visit, shall we?”
Anakin nods in agreement and follows Obi-Wan out of the room and into the secretary’s foyer. The young Rodian looks up at them. “Back so soon?” he says.
“We were never here,” Obi-Wan replies, swiping his hand slowly in front of the Rodian’s face.
The Rodian stares back at Obi-Wan, entranced. “You were never here.”
“Chancellor Palpatine has been alone for the past hour.”
“Chancellor Palpatine has been alone for the past hour.”
“You never saw anyone enter the room at this time.”
“I never saw anyone enter the room at this time.”
Obi-Wan smiles. “Very good,” he says. “Now have a lovely day.”
“Have a lovely day,” the Rodian whispers faintly.
Obi-Wan frowns. “I may have pushed him a little too hard.”
“Now is not the time to fret about it,” Anakin says. He slips his hood back on and Obi-Wan does the same. “Now let’s get out of here.”
Obi-Wan nods in agreement and leads the way out to the hallway. They walk side by side as quietly as they came in. The smog-filled air of Coruscant has never felt so freeing as when they step out onto the front steps of the Senate building. They make their way back to the speeders and take separate routes back to their ship.
Anakin lets down the ramp and together they climb up it until they’re both sitting comfortably in the cockpit, hoods down and flying back up into orbit.
“So,” Obi-Wan says slowly.
“So,” Anakin replies. “I believe we’re now traitors of the Republic.”
“That’s an odd way of saying saviors.”
“If anyone knew, they’d have our heads.”
“But they don’t. And now that our business on Coruscant is taken care of…” He looks to Anakin. “What do you want to do?”
Anakin leans his head back against the headrest. “I want to go on vacation,” he says. “We deserve a vacation.”
“Hmm. I hear Niamos is nice this time of year.”
“Niamos sounds lovely, Master.”
Obi-Wan grins and watches Anakin sit back up and enter the coordinates to Niamos. The stars tunnel into hyperspace and they soar through a galaxy liberated of evil.
The ocean waves do not crash, thunderous and vengeful, against the beaches of Niamos, but rather, they lap up gently against the shore in warm greeting. The sound of it is soothing to Obi-Wan, who currently lies stretched out on a beach chair, taking in the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Anakin lays beside him on his own beach chair, though he’s always struggled with staying still for long and he’s taken to playing games on his datapad.
“You really need to learn to relax, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He takes a sip of a complimentary cocktail given to him by the resort they stay at. “You should try this. It’s sickeningly sweet, you’ll love it.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” Anakin mutters, still entrenched in whatever game he plays.
“Fine. More for me.”
Anakin’s datapad punctuates the sentence with a high-pitched ping .
“There’s a news alert,” Anakin says.
“Oh really?” Obi-Wan replies. “What is going on in the galaxy this time?”
Anakin clicks on the notification and reads the headline aloud. “Breaking news, the Chancellor of the Republic Found Dead. Senator Mothma Assumes Emergency Powers.”
“Tragic,” Obi-Wan says. He sips on his tropical drink once more.
Obi-Wan’s commlink trills. He picks it up and looks at the name. “It’s Master Windu. Should I pick it up?”
“Let it ring,” Anakin says. “We’re in the middle of hunting down Maul, remember?”
“Ah, yes, that’s right,” Obi-Wan says with a satisfied hum. “I’ll call him back another time.”
With his life stretching out before him, unencumbered by curses and prophecies, he has all the time in the world.