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The blood was pounding in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s ears as they bounded by means of jetpack through the skies of Sundari, smoke and blaster bolts streaking the once pale beautiful horizon. Not for the first time since their capture and subsequent escape, he wished he still donned the Mandalorian helmet that he’d “borrowed” earlier. He rapidly blinked, trying his best to avoid running into one of Mandalore’s grandstanding skyscrapers or any of the ex-Death Watch warriors that escorted him. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure which would be worse.
As Bo-Katan narrowly avoided collision after Obi-Wan had veered a bit too far to the right in attempting to evade shrapnel from another explosion, he deduced from her clipped tone that he may have better luck with the former as opposed to the ladder.
“Watch it, Jetii .”
“A bit tough to do with the change of scenery.” He countered back, managing a level tone despite the twist in his gut at seeing the seemingly utopian landscape reduced to yet another war.
The part of him that would normally take the moment to question the Death Watch’s motives was subdued by the situation at hand, which seemed to position them as allies in a turn of fate. Thank the force for that, because had it not been for their intervention, this would not have gone nearly as smoothly as he would have liked.
A blaster cannon soared from behind them, barely missing in part due to Bo-Katan’s unwavering determination to whip them every which way to shake off the enemy. He was grateful for it, but that didn’t stop the grimace that rose in his throat as they barrel rolled yet again.
He really hated flying.
He forced his eyes to remain forward and called on the living force to guide them through the despair, pulling from the light. He had to admit that it was difficult, surrounded by such destruction. Beneath them, a hospital was destroyed. To their left, a school and onwards, a market place. All were casualties in a needless fight that was orchestrated from the bloodthirsty dark side.
Who could want any of this?
If there was one thing Obi-Wan had learned through the countless tragedies from the Clone Wars, was that maybe, there was no such thing as true peace. Not the lasting kind, anyway.
Despite the chaos and mayhem that quite literally engulfed them in their haphazard attempt at an escape, topped off with Maul’s squadron of Mandalorians in tow, he still couldn’t find it in himself to wholly believe that. Not when there was still a chance.
Not when even through the smoke and the blood that polluted the once regulated airflow, he could make out the distinct and faint scent of water lilies brushing against his nose. Regardless of her several days of encampment and near-death, Duchess Satine Kryze still clutched onto him with the strength of a stubborn Tooka cat on its favorite scratching post, even if properly strapped to him prior. Obi-Wan could hardly blame her though, seeing as he was also determined to not allow something as frivolous as a faulty harness to be the cause of Satine’s demise.
Not when it seemed far too achingly close just minutes before.
He didn’t so much as have a moment to consider if she was truly alright, but he guessed that time would have to be for later. They had to move .
“Kenobi! Up ahead!” Ursa Wren shouted above the sounds of blaster fire from the treacherous crimson-colored warriors at their tails.
He did not need to see the ship to know that Anakin was close, the warm bond that had been kindled and strengthened after years of training. It felt a bit like a light at the end of a dreary tunnel. Anakin had not been keen on Obi-Wan’s direct orders to stick with the ship, but he’d hesitantly relented after it had become obvious, try as he might to deny it as he may, this was personal for Obi-Wan.
He would not be dragging Anakin or anyone else down with him on this mission.
However, in this present moment, when all he could taste was smoke and stray wind-beaten blonde hair, he was relieved for his former apprentice’s decision to stow-away (even if it had caused him grief earlier). The ship was beaten to a pulp, but it looked like in Obi-Wan’s absence, Anakin had made some modifications to it.
“Always on the move.” He internally chided, but again, could not stop the flush of elation that permeated across his chest, freeing some of the tension that had been knotted there ever since he first received Satine’s distress call.
That reprieve, unfortunately, was instantaneously cut loose when he felt himself whipped backwards and away from the ship that they were heading towards. Bo-Katan turned, mid-air and despite not being able to see her facial expression thanks to the mask on her head, he knew what she saw was far from good.
“Leaving so soon?” A raspy familiar voice shouted from behind them and Obi-Wan cursed.
He cocked his head over his shoulder, noting that none other than Maul stood on top of a speeder, darksaber drawn and ready, two of his faithful warriors at his side. His eyes perfectly matched the roaring fires that burned behind him. Obi-Wan did his best to shield Satine from seeing him, squeezing her tighter to his chest.
“You should know about running away.” He goaded, though Bo-Katan grunted in disapproval at his banter.
“You cannot run from destiny, Kenobi.” He said almost softly, gritting his yellow teeth as he stretched out in the force to attempt to pull them in as though they were caught in a ship’s tractor beam. “I have taken your master and now, I will have your beloved too.”
Obi-Wan resisted to his best ability without dropping Satine, placing them in what felt like a reverberated limbo, dangling above her people who cried for help as their newly “pledged” leader strove only for his own gains, which evidently included making Obi-Wan’s life as difficult and miserable as possible. On one end, there was victory in the form of retreat, with the engines running the promise for what would hopefully be a new tomorrow for Mandalore and its people. On the other, a painful and torturous end.
The aching in his bones and muscles said otherwise, but he knew, deep in his soul that this wasn’t the end.
He meant it earlier when he’d insisted it took strength to resist the dark side and he hadn’t just meant from the moral standpoint of pushing against darkness, but the sheer physicality of warding off Maul’s strangling grasp. Slowly, but surely, the jetpack began inching forward yet again and Maul released an infuriated scream, no doubt channeling the deepest of anguish to overpower Obi-Wan.
“But you won’t have Mandalore.” Came Bo-Katan’s grated voice, not muddled with resignation, but resolve, as she and her fellow “deserters” charged forward in an attack sequence that was clearly rehearsed beforehand.
“Bo!” Satine’s voice broke through the disarray for the first time in anguish.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” Bo-Katan shouted with only a single glance backwards before throwing herself directly in front of Maul and his readied blade. She parried him, prepared for the strike, but it was unclear how long even someone as strong as herself could hold off against the former Sith lord.
Cold realization settled in to Obi-Wan as he felt Satine’s pain through the force. This was her sister.
Once again, he regretfully didn’t have time to ponder this news. Maul’s cronies, dead set on appeasing their new leader, shot skillfully at Obi-Wan, and managed to scuff the left turbine engine, sending sparks as he and Satine briefly wavered. There was a single second where time passed terribly slow until Obi-Wan used everything left in him to push them forward through the force, throttling through the small entryway of the ship and skitting to an ungraceful landing across the durasteel floor of the ship. He didn’t release the breath he’d unknowingly been holding until the thrum of the ship indicated that it had launched into deep space.
They laid there for an uncertain amount of time before the shock of their own escape settled into their bones. It was Satine, who raised her head first, looking fearful at what she might find in his gaze, but for once, he did not hesitate or subdue himself when he reached forward and framed her face in his gloved hands.
Her alabaster skin was dusted in soot and her eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion and immense sadness, making the intensity of their azure depths all the more captivating. He couldn’t remember last seeing her hair absent of any regality or so wind-swept, but the image reminded him painfully of a different time when Mandalore had been on the brink of swallowing itself whole and when they’d stolen glances and held hands beneath a shared cloak. Except this time, he came so narrowly close to losing her, that the weight of that guilt nearly crushed him.
“Attachment .” Rang a pesky voice in his head. He was unsure whom it precisely belonged to, but for that matter of seconds, as he drank in the sight of seeing and feeling her alive he shoved away his doubts.
She was alive. Right here in front of him. Closer than she’d been in years.
He also had to force away thoughts of when he’d last held her.
She opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking in his face with her eyes with the same line of reverence that he felt.
“I’ve loved you always. I always will.” She’d said that. Those had been her chosen final words and he winced at how little he deserved them. How he didn’t deserve her or this moment of reprieve.
At the reminder of her close-call, he perked up instantly, feeling a bit ridiculous not to have immediately addressed her wounds.
“The darksaber.” Was all he could blurt out as he tenderly inspected the patch of exposed skin on her torso.
“It’s just a graze.” Was all she said in a hoarse voice, eyes still glued to his face as she reached out and smoothed what would likely become a scathing bruise across his cheekbone.
“A bump.” He said gently and held the hand that touched his cheek, feeling queasily reminiscent of when he believed for a moment that she was to die in his arms. She had literally met the blunt of the darksaber and yet she could only think of him. Both were of equal standing in terms of colloquialism, but neither were too fond of words at the moment. Obi-Wan didn’t have any for how he felt. Jedi weren’t supposed to, anyway.
Even that thought didn’t yet shake him as they still sat tangled together, simply amazed that the other was here.
“Ben.” She said gently, hardly above a whisper and the resurrection of the old nickname both tickled and pricked something soft in him that he believed had long since been put to sleep.
“Satine.” He said, trying to sound level, self-assured, but feeling none of that. “I thought…”
“I did too.” She swallowed and nodded before pressing her forehead to his. “I did too.”
“I wanted you to know-” He began speaking before his mind could catch up with him, paranoid instantly where his words would lead him without abandon, but showing no signs of stopping as he felt himself melt into her.
“-Well, don’t everyone thank me at-” A smug and approaching voice cut off surely at the sight of the uncharacteristically vulnerable scene he’d unknowingly interrupted.
“-Once.”Anakin winced as he leaned against the hanger door, shrugging in apology to Obi-Wan, who was trying very hard to give him a disapproving glance that was supposed to convey that nothing was happening, even if, Obi-Wan, himself wasn’t even sure if that were true. He just couldn’t tell whether he was grateful or wistful at his former padawan’s interference.
For Satine’s part, the bubble had been effectively popped as she straightened and stood to her feet, somehow looking regal even in the same clothes she’d worn for well over a week and with the dark circles under her eyes. There was still immense sadness there, no doubt for her people and for the sacrifice of her sister, but she’d returned to being the leader again.
“I am eternally grateful for the assist, Master Jedi.” She said in an even tone that didn’t dare suggest she’d been so close to crying.
Anakin nodded stiffly, shooting a brief glance at Obi-Wan to try and get a better read on the room before deciding it was best not to pry too much… Yet.
Obi-Wan grimaced as he knew what unrelenting teasing was heading his way once they were out of harm’s way.
“We’ll get you to safety, Duchess.” He said kindly. “You can count on us.”
She seemed to bristle at that and Obi-Wan could see the argument forming on her tongue about how cowardly she was being or that her safety would be a price she was more than willing to pay for her people. However, she swallowed them and nodded curtly instead. The exhaustion seemed to weigh on her for the first time as well as real dread. He wanted to probe for more, to try and help, but he knew this wasn’t the time. Satine would need and want space, which he would certainly give her.
He would also do everything in his power to get Mandalore back for her again. For the galaxy. Surely, that’s why.
“Yes, I can.” She finally said smoothly, sneaking a look at Obi-Wan that made him question for the millionth time in knowing her if she could read his mind.
And as Anakin retreated back to the cockpit and implored Obi-Wan to follow to discuss what half-truths they would tell the council as to why they broke rank to rescue Satine, Obi-Wan knew he was lying to himself.