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Chapter Text

His vision swam with red. The faint hiss of the ray shield was incessant. Obi-Wan’s eyes were fixed on the duelling figures of Qui-Gon and the Sith. His master’s lightsaber left a green trail in the space between him and the tattooed creature. The Sith was pressing Qui-Gon backwards slowly, forcing his master to take small steps, a feral grin on his face as the Sith advanced. Obi-Wan gently brushed the bond with his master, Qui-Gon’s focus was completely on the two red blades whirling around him. Every aspect of his being fixated on deflecting the impossibly fast blows while trying to find an opening.

Suddenly they broke apart, both breathing fast. Then, as the Sith launched another flurry of attacks, the Force yelled a warning to Obi-Wan. The Sith forced Qui-Gon to attack from above leaving his torso exposed, then punched the hilt of the lightsaber into Qui-Gon’s nose. Obi-Wan didn’t stop to think. He grabbed the Force and shoved it at the Sith who was drawing his blade backwards for one final, devastating, blow. The Force Push was unexpected and made the Sith stumble forwards, and instead of the blade piercing Qui-Gon’s heart is slid through his right side just below the ribs.

“Master!” Obi-Wan yelled, he might have stopped the Sith then, but he was still trapped behind this infernal ray shield, he bounced on the balls of his feet desperate to run and help his master. Qui-Gon gasped and sank to his knees; his right arm only just holding on to his lightsaber as his left hand pressed on the wound. The Sith snarled, having regained his footing and came back for a second strike, the lightsaber lifted to come down on Qui-Gon’s exposed neck.

The ray shield vanished not a second too soon, Obi-Wan summoned the Force and leapt over to his injured master reaching out with his lightsaber and caught the Sith’s vicious downwards slice. The Sith locked eyes with Obi-Wan, fury visible in his eyes and the Force, muscles strained as they held their positions, each trying to overpower the other. Obi-Wan was the first to move. He kicked out to the Sith’s knee, which was sidestepped but Obi-Wan felt the pressure of the red lightsaber vanish and he instantly delivered a series of attacks trying to push the tattooed creature away from his master. The Sith’s attacks were powerful and seemingly without any rhythm, Obi-Wan switched to the Ataru Form, while it did not come that naturally to him, he desperately needed the assistance of the Force. Sucking in a short breath he let the Force flow through him, enhancing his blows and parries. But Obi-Wan felt like he was battling fire. The short bursts of hits from the Sith were difficult to counter and predict even with the assistance of the Force; very quickly Obi-Wan was on the back foot, sweat poured down his face. Calling on all his lightsaber lessons he summoned every manoeuvre, every parry, every slash and fought with all he had. He flipped over the Sith, lightsaber swinging aiming for his head, but the creature ducked and stepped back, passing his dual lightsaber to his left hand. Suddenly Obi-Wan was hit in the chest by a powerful shove from the Force and he flew backwards landing on the other side of the room to Qui-Gon.

He fell to the floor, winded, and looked up in time to see the Sith approaching, the same smile he had worn when trying to kill Qui-Gon was back. Obi-Wan, eyes watering, chest refusing to give him air, head spinning, desperately searched for his lightsaber only to see it lying on the edge of the hole. He reached out a hand and begged the Force to bring it to him, but his head pounded, and he could feel something warm trickling down the back of his neck. Two black boots stepped in front of his face.

~~~

Qui-Gon’s side was burning, the pain made breathing deeply nearly impossible and every movement caused shards of agony to shoot up his right side. He heard the fight between Obi-Wan and the Sith and looked up, eyes squinting against the pain, in time to see his Padawan flying across the room with a yelp of surprise which turned into a grunt when he slammed into the wall, his head smacked on the grey durasteel wall. He crumpled to the ground but thankfully had not been knocked unconscious. Qui-Gon knew he had to try and help Obi-Wan, he sucked in a breath and tried to push himself to a standing position. His left leg shook as he pushed the floor away but when he tried to move his right leg under him the pain almost caused Qui-Gon to black out. He frantically blinked his vision clear to see the Sith standing over his Padawan; the hum of his dual lightsaber and Qui-Gon’s heavy breathing filled the space.

The Sith did not move, he stared down at Obi-Wan, and tilted his head as though considering him. Obi-Wan, hand still stuck out reaching for his lightsaber, held the Sith’s unwavering gaze. Qui-Gon could not take the agony of trying to stand and collapsed back to his hands and knees.

“You are an interesting one.” the Sith muttered, “I sense…anger in you.” Qui-Gon whipped his head up when the Sith spoke, his heart racing.

“Yeah, well you just tried to kill my master. I reckon that qualifies to be pissed off.” Obi-Wan hissed. Qui-Gon was torn between laughing and yelling his Padawan, the pain in his side was making it hard to properly control his own emotions.

The Sith breathed out a huff of amusement, “I think you will be an excellent candidate.” He paused, “yes.” At these words Obi-Wan glanced over at Qui-Gon, panic evident in his eyes, “there it is.” the Sith said, “Fear. So much fear and doubt. I can almost taste it. Oh, this will be perfect.” The Sith switched off his lightsaber and bent down to grab Obi-Wan’s tunic who tried to scramble away but hit the wall.

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon shouted, his side flaring up again as he tried to rise, “leave him alone.”

The Sith turned to look at Qui-Gon and in that moment Obi-Wan stretched his hand out further and his lightsaber shot into his hand. But the Sith, having sensed the movement, stomped his booted foot on Obi-Wan’s wrist. The boy cried out in pain and dropped the hilt as his hand went numb. Qui-Gon’s stomach twisted as he felt Obi-Wan’s pain and fear through their bond. He had to keep a rational mind. He apologised internally as he strengthened his shields and cut off the flow of distress from his Padawan.

“You Jedi” the Sith sneered after seeing Obi-Wan look for Qui-Gon in desperation, “You are so hypocritical. Forbidding attachment, but I only need to be in the same room as you to feel this boy’s affection for you. Pathetic really. But…exploitable. Useful.”

“Take your foot off him.” Qui-Gon released his fear into the Force, feeling himself recentre slightly, the pain keeping off balance.

“I don’t think you’re in any place to bargain, Jedi.” To make his point clear the Sith pressed harder on Obi-Wan’s wrist making the boy writhe but he stilled when the Sith ignited his blade and held it at Obi-Wan’s throat, “I have grown tired of this. I could play with you longer…but that would be indulgent, don’t you think?” The Sith leered at Qui-Gon, “and that’s not the Jedi way is it now?”

“Master” Obi-Wan’s voice was tiny, and it made Qui-Gon’s heart tremble. He wanted to look at his Padawan, but he held eye contact with the Sith. Brown eyes met with red. The Sith extended his arm straight out to this side. Suddenly a groan came from the ray shields, Qui-Gon snapped his eyes to where the metal fittings were peeling off the wall, chunks of concrete and durasteel crashed to the floor. The ray shield sputtered out leaving the hallway empty and open as a lump of metal lifted off the ground and shot forwards. Straight at Qui-Gon as Obi-Wan cried out in fear.

~~~

Anakin steered the starfighter back to its original spot, adrenaline was coursing through his veins. He had been part of a battle! He had helped shoot down that huge ship and he had technically followed Qui-Gon’s instructions…he had stayed in the starfighter. Anakin clambered out of the pilot’s seat and turned around to see where Qui-Gon was. He had so much to tell him.

“Hey R2”

The little blue and white droid beeped at him.

“Do you know were Qui-Gon is? I can’t see him anywhere.”

R2 whizzed over to the nearest port and Anakin waited while the droid searched for the Jedi. Anakin couldn’t stop fidgeting; he knew that Qui-Gon would say something like how fidgeting isn’t very Jedi like and then Obi-Wan would add some comment. Anakin tried to be more still. Anakin wasn’t sure about Obi-Wan yet. He seemed nice but he hadn’t been kind like Qui-Gon had been. Obi-Wan had been more distant, but Anakin had felt Obi-Wan’s presence. He liked doing that. Looking at the person, really looking at them. But he had to be careful around the Jedi, he wasn’t the only person who could do that now and every time he had tried to look at Obi-Wan, he had shot Anakin a stern look and had made himself nearly vanish, the light that Anakin could so often see, was hidden behind walls. Anakin didn’t know how he did that, but he wasn’t trying to be rude, he was just curious. R2’s beeps and whistles brought Anakin out if his thoughts.

“They’re in the power generator?” At R2’s confirmation he set off behind the droid at a sprint. He was so excited to tell Qui-Gon. Luckily the doors were already open for Anakin. He came through one to find himself on a walkway high above the ground, above and below him were so many other platforms but there was no one else in here, great purple pillars of light shone in the huge room lighting it up. Then he heard a deep rumbling and cracking sound from up ahead, “come on R2!” Anakin dashed forwards, curiosity and worry starting to niggle at the back of his head. Where are Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan?

The rumbling noise stopped, and Anakin heard a shout and a big crash. He was approaching to a hallway and beyond that he saw Qui-Gon lying on the floor, a huge hunk of metal skidding to halt behind him. Qui-Gon raised his head from the floor and they made eye contact.

“Anakin! Run!” The older Jedi looked injured, his left hand was clamped on his right side and he had made no effort to stand up. Anakin began to run towards him when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan was on the floor, a red and black creature was standing over him, a bright red lightsaber in its hand but it had two blades coming out of the hilt. Anakin suddenly felt very sick looking at the creature. He didn’t need to properly look at it to know it was evil. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan shone, like the two suns on Tatooine, bright and pure, even when Obi-Wan stopped him being able to see. But the red and black creature sucked all the light out of the room. Rather than shining it was a vacuum, a horrible, dark, empty space. It was like the oil and grease Anakin would find himself being covered with in Watto’s shop.

“Qui-Gon…” Anakin stood in the mouth of the hallway; his eyes darted to Qui-Gon. What had happened? Then he was flying backwards. Not far but he had never been Force Pushed before, he cried out in shock as he landed heavily on the ground and looked up to see Obi-Wan’s hand stretched out, eyes wide and desperate as, where Anakin had stood seconds before, was a long metal shard which was driven deep into the durasteel floor. Anakin stared at Obi-Wan and felt the young man’s mind brush against his, it quickly checked Anakin up and down for injuries, Anakin felt his fear and his pain, but then it vanished as soon as it had come.

The red and black creature rounded on Obi-Wan, his face set in a snarl, “you kriffing-” he cut off his words and instead jabbed the crimson blade of the lightsaber into Obi-Wan’s thigh. Obi-Wan screamed. The creature kicked Obi-Wan’s head which dazed and silenced him.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Anakin cried out; tears started to run down his cheeks. He scrambled to his feet and started to run to Obi-Wan.

“Anakin no!” he heard Qui-Gon shout at him, but he didn’t care, he wouldn’t let Obi-Wan get hurt after he just saved his life.

“ENOUGH” The red and black creature roared and whirled around, his arm sweeping out in front of him. Anakin, Qui-Gon, and all the debris were flung backwards against the wall. Anakin’s ears rung and his back felt numb. He coughed and blinked then looked up to see the red and black creature snatch up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber then grab his ankles and begin to drag the nearly unconscious boy away.

Anakin called out Obi-Wan’s name and made to stand up, but his back and his head really hurt now, and he was dizzy. He tried again and managed to get up and started walking slowly, he couldn’t walk in a straight line, he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Anakin, stop. Don’t go after him. I need your help.” Qui-Gon’s voice halted him. Obi-Wan’s eyes were open now, wide and fixed on Qui-Gon. Anakin hurried as quick as he could manage to the Jedi and pulled him to his feet. Qui-Gon, hands gripping Anakin’s shoulders, looked over to Obi-Wan who was weakly trying to release the creature’s grip on him, but it didn’t work.

Master and apprentice stared at each other as the Sith dragged Obi-Wan out of a side exit. Qui-Gon’s eyes full of guilt. Obi-Wan’s wide and almost betrayed. Both looked very afraid.

Chapter Text

The room seemed so much bigger. Spacious. Empty. Vacuous. It did not matter what word Qui-Gon used, Obi-Wan was gone. He stood frozen staring at the hidden exit still seeing the ghost of his Padawan’s petrified eyes staring into his soul. He looked so like the thirteen-year-old boy he had been when Qui-Gon had rejected him after his fight against Bruck Chun, remembered the despair in Obi-Wan’s eyes when Qui-Gon had not taken him and, to Obi-Wan, had sealed his fate to go to the Agri-Corps. He still had that same fear of not being enough, despite proving his competency time after time. And Qui-Gon had watched him be dragged away, unable to help. What a master he was.

“Qui-Gon?” Anakin’s small, wavering voice made Qui-Gon blink out of his revere and look down at the small blond-haired child, his broad hand still holding onto the boy’s shoulder. When Qui-Gon did not respond Anakin continued, “what’s going to happen to Obi-Wan?”

“I…I don’t know, young one.” Qui-Gon forced his voice to be steady and not betray his fear for his Padawan. Whatever the Sith had planned Qui-Gon could not bear to contemplate. He knew that Obi-Wan would undoubtably be killed in the most horrific way imaginable after enduring torment no-one could be prepared for. Grief filled rage flowered in his chest, but Qui-Gon was quick to release it into the Force. Obi-Wan did not need that right now. He needed to be level-headed; he needed to get back to the Temple, deliver Anakin to the Council, and start the search for his apprentice. He could not, would not, fail another one, “Come Anakin, we must get back to the ship and back to the Temple.” Qui-Gon clipped his lightsaber to his belt remembering how the Sith had stolen Obi-Wan’s, and felt a rush of sadness, recalling Obi-Wan’s face had been filled with excitement and proudly showed Qui-Gon his new lightsaber and how he begged to go and train his Forms that second. Anakin looked up at Qui-Gon, his concern palpable in the Force and visible on his face, most likely sensing his own turbulent emotions, raising his shields Qui-Gon smiled, he wore his expressions on his sleeve, so like Obi-Wan. The smiled fell from his lips. He could not let himself be overwhelmed with memories of his Padawan, here and now Qui-Gon. Here and Now.

Anakin walked slowly, letting Qui-Gon lean on him, if he was struggling the small boy said nothing. Qui-Gon made himself fall into a semi-meditative trance, still aware of his surroundings but a majority of his attention was on his side. Any movement made pain lance through his body stealing the breath from his lungs. He put his faith in Anakin as he tried to wrap the Force around the injury, letting it ebb and flow through it. It made the agony less debilitating and Qui-Gon felt he was able to stand on his own at last.

The pair came to the doors leading to the hanger. Beyond, cheers and voice of celebration could be heard. They must have taken down the Federation ship. People were bustling around in the hanger, some walking. With arms slung over shoulder relief in their voices, other hugged friends, some sat on the floor, exhausted. Qui-Gon spotted Padmé in among the throng. She had seen them and moved quickly towards them, a smile on her face.

“Master Qui-Gon.” Her face was flushed as she bowed, she turned to the boy at his side who was gazing up at her, “Anakin.” She opened her mouth to continue speaking but she must have sensed something, “What’s wrong?” Her eyes slipped down to Qui-Gon’s arm tucked against his side, the injury hidden by his robes, “You are injured” she frowned and glanced over Qui-Gon’s shoulder, “and where is Obi-Wan?” Her earlier joy was fading fast.

Anakin let his gaze fall to the floor as he sniffed slightly, Qui-Gon placed a hand on his shoulder and gently brushed his mind against Anakin’s, he felt his fear and sadness, but also guilt. “Your Highness–”

“Padmé”

“Very well, Padmé. In our fight with the Sith, Obi-Wan was…taken. I couldn’t help him as I was injured, and I wouldn’t let Anakin go after him. I couldn’t let the Sith take two Jedi.”

Padmé brought a hand up to her mouth, shock sliced through her expression, “Qui-Gon, I am so sorry. I can get you a healer if you need–”

Qui-Gon lifted his right hand, trying to hide the wince, “no thank you, Your Highness. I need to get back to the Temple as soon as I can, the sooner I get back the quicker I can try to help Obi-Wan. I apologise for leaving you, but I will contact the Council and they will send out another Jedi to assist in my stead.”

“No need to apologise at all, I understand.”

“Many thanks Padmé. And congratulations on defeating the Federation ship.” Qui-Gon made to leave.

“Thank you, although I hear you have Anakin to thank for that.”

Qui-Gon halted and turned to look at the young boy who was a couple steps behind him, he bit his lip and could not meet Qui-Gon’s eye, “I see.” The corner of his lip twitched in faint amusement, “come Anakin we must leave.”

“Yes, Qui-Gon.”

“Qui-Gon.” He turned to see Padmé, hands clasped in front of her, “I hope you find Obi-Wan. If you need my assistance you need only ask.”

Qui-Gon studied her, she would be a formidable queen. Even after so much strife in her term she had come through stronger, wiser, and more awe-inspiring each time. But even after so much she had retained her deep compassion and empathy. The Force spun around her, while she was not sensitive, she stood out among normal people. She would be a force to reckon with, “Thank you Padmé, that is very generous.” With that he tilted his head and set off to his ship.

~~~

Anakin was torn. He didn’t want to leave Naboo as it was so different to Tatooine; so much grass and so many different colours and so much water. Water as far as he could see in huge lakes. He had never seen one before, only heard about them in stories, but the stories didn’t even tell how beautiful they were, his mum would have said it was the second most beautiful thing after Anakin. She always said that, and it made him smile. He loved how it glittered like gems and just how blue it was. All different shades of blue, and how it moved all the time, little waves lapping at the edges, the cold water made his toes tingle.

But then he wanted to get off this planet so fast, wanted to run away from the horrible memories. He wanted to get away from his back still hurting form hitting the wall, leave the image of that creature behind and he wanted to run away from Obi-Wan as he lay on the floor. The memory of his warm, kind and concerned presence brushing on his own mind still remained. Like a stain that won’t wash out no matter how much you scrub at it, but he didn’t want it to go away.

There was also a small, selfish part of him that wanted to see the Temple so badly. He had only seen glimpses when Qui-Gon had taken him to see the Council last time and after hearing Qui-Gon talking about it his heart still skipped with excitement at the thought of the great halls, the gardens and having his own bed to sleep in.

Anakin kept a pace behind Qui-Gon as he followed him to the ship, he had learnt from experience not to rush ahead. While he didn’t think Qui-Gon was like that it was still ingrained in his young mind. Qui-Gon was still hurting, Anakin could tell. His right shoulder was dipped where he was trying to protect the injury, and he was being very quiet, even when Anakin looked at him, he couldn’t see. He was doing what Obi-Wan did, he was hiding himself. The ramp from the ship was already down so the pair smoothly climbed it and made their way to the cockpit. Anakin sat in the co-pilot seat, his mind instantly taken over by the machinery. It was a great ship, but he didn’t quite like the lay out and everything could be made more efficient if it was to be rewired properly, of course he said none of this out load.

Qui-Gon went to reach for button but hissed in pain when he pulled his side so Anakin quickly jabbed it for him, the older man nodded in thanks and gently pulled on the joystick. The ship rose from the ground and out the hanger.

“Anakin would you mind grabbing me the first aid kit from the storage compartment behind your seat when we are in hyperspace? The sooner I get a bacta patch on it, the less furious Vokara Che will be with me. Hopefully.”

“Sure. Who’s Vokara Che?” Anakin twisted round in his seat to see the place Qui-Gon was on about.

“The Temple’s head healer. She and I have got to know each other very well over my time there.”

“What you mean like–” Anakin raised his eyebrows. He might be young, but he wasn’t stupid.

He gave Anakin a disapproving look at the boy’s insinuation. “I seem to have a skill at getting injured while in the field” Qui-Gon gestured at his side, “as you can see.”

Anakin nodded. He turned his gaze back to look out the glass in front of him the light blue of the sky was rapidly changing to a dark navy, “how long does it take to get to Coruscant?”

“The journey will be about 5 hours, young one. You should try to get some rest.”

“I’m ok. How old is this ship?”

They quickly left the planet’s atmosphere and Qui-Gon started to prepare for the jump to lightspeed, “I am not sure. I doubt it is that old–”

“I bet I could fly this ship.” Anakin’s mind was whirling, he had so many thoughts about updating this ship, about the Temple, about becoming a Jedi, “I bet it’s not as hard as pod-racing. You don’t have to worry about other racers or rocks. At least this ship is on one piece, my pods were always needing repairs, the sand used to get everywhere and jam up the engines or the cooling systems and–” Anakin halted, mid-sentence realising he was rambling, “sorry. I didn’t mean to go on so much.”

Qui-Gon smiled a small smile as he pushed a lever and the space around them warped and white-blue light filled Anakin’s vision, “there is no need to apologise, I was impressed when I watched you race.” Anakin glowed with pride. “On the matter of ships, however” that made Anakin freeze. He knew what was coming, “I seem to recall telling you to stay put.” Qui-Gon’s mild voice threw Anakin. Was he angry with him? It would be understandable if he was.

“Well technically…I did” Anakin looked sheepish, “I didn’t leave the starfighter.”

“You were involved in a battle.” Qui-Gon deadpanned.

“In the starfighter.”

“You put yourself in great danger doing that Anakin. It was reckless.” Anakin felt chastised and he looked down at his hands, the thrill of being in hyperspace was pushed away by his feeling of guilt, “but you did well, young one.” Anakin looked at Qui-Gon through his lashes, unsure of how to respond, but when he saw Qui-Gon’s open smile he relaxed, “Now, would you mind getting me that first aid kit?”

Anakin leapt from his chair, grabbed the bag and handed it to Qui-Gon. He watched, fascinated, as the Jedi removed his dark brown robe with great care and started to cut away at his layered tunic, “remind me when we get back to the Temple to put in a request for new tunics, undoubtably I will put them in a shortage by the number I go through.” Qui-Gon mumbled to himself.

While he felt better after realising Qui-Gon wasn’t really mad at him he still felt conflicted, “I didn’t mean to at first.” Qui-Gon looked up from where he was applying a bacta pad on his injury, “I wanted to help, and I felt so useless just sitting there waiting that I started pressing stuff. When it started moving, it felt right to help. I’m sorry I disobeyed your orders.” Anakin was staring at his hands now, looking intently at them as though he had never seen them before.

“Anakin,” Qui-Gon’s soft voice made his hands still, “don’t mistake my concern for you as anger. I am proud that you helped fight. The Force knew what you had to do, and it guided your hand. It was no mistake you were in that starfighter.”

“But you told me to stay in there.” Anakin was confused. Sometimes Qui-Gon could be so cryptic and how he talked about the Force was beyond Anakin’s faint grasp and understanding of it.

“Ah, but if I hadn’t then you wouldn’t have been able to help, now would you?”

“I guess not…”

“I am also used to an…independently thinking Padawan.” Qui-Gon’s eyes dimmed as his thoughts inevitably returned to Obi-Wan.

They were silent for a short time, the chill of space cooling the mood further, “my mum always says lost things have a way of coming back home.” Anakin drew his knees up to his chest. He missed his mum right now, what he wouldn’t do for one of her hugs. For her to hold him tight, her warm arms wrapped around him making all his worries quiet down.

“Your mother sounds like a very wise person.”

“She is.”

Qui-Gon stood up and touched Anakin’s shoulder, “I am going to use the ‘fresher to clean myself up, when I come back you should get some rest. It’s been a busy time for you.” Before Anakin could reply the older man had left the cockpit leaving him to look out the glass into the tunnel of light.

~~~

Qui-Gon slid the door to the ‘fresher shut, turned around and leant against it. He let out a shaky breath, one he didn’t realise he had been holding in, and let himself slide down the door until he was sitting in the cramped space. He let his emotions rise to the surface after shoving them down for so long.

Tears pricked his eyes and his chest constricted. He rubbed his hand over his face, exhaustion seeped into his bones now he was still.

My dear Obi-Wan, I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop the Sith. It should have been me. Qui-Gon bit his lip to stop his sob, he knew he should release these feelings into the Force, knew he should not be this attached in the first place. But for now, right now, he let himself feel. Made himself suffer the agony of losing his Padawan, his boy. The grip of grief took over his mind. All his time with Obi-Wan flashed through his mind: their missions, him hunched over his datapad furiously scribbling notes, a shared pot of tea between them, his laugh. There didn’t seem like there was enough. He should have savoured it more rather than being so distant. He should not have allowed his past with Xanatos to stop him enjoying his time with Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon groaned as he let his chin fall to his chest. He knew he had failed Obi-Wan even before they had arrived at Theed. When he had told the Council he would take Anakin as his new apprentice, he had felt Obi-Wan’s shock and hurt through their bond but Obi-Wan had raised his strong shields before Qui-Gon could properly register it and he himself had pushed it aside at the time as he had convinced himself that Obi-Wan was ready for the Trials. In his heart of hearts Qui-Gon knew he was not. Not just yet. In a month or so he would have been, but he told himself the boy had potential and that he was ready. From then Obi-Wan had been slightly distant, not enough for Qui-Gon, so centred on the child, to notice. Obi-Wan had always been able to hide his feelings and pain well. His shields were always strong, even as a young boy. How could Qui-Gon not have seen this? And now, here he was, sat in this cramped corner of a ship with a boy who might be potentially the saviour of the Jedi waiting for him while his Padawan was who knows where in the hands of a Sith lord.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and tentatively reached out for the bond he had recently neglected. Usually Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force so clearly; bright and full of energy as he was. No, is. He could not let himself think that way. Yet now Obi-Wan’s light was dimmed, the pulse and energy of the Force signature was slow and muted. Qui-Gon tried to feel Obi-Wan but rather than his normal quick and wonderful mind, he was met by a sludge smothering it stopping Qui-Gon from reaching him alongside his shields which were are strong as ever. Qui-Gon guessed the boy had been drugged; he was not unconscious nor was he awake. Suddenly a jab of terror shuddered down the bond.

“Oh Obi-Wan, I am so sorry.” Qui-Gon whispered into his tunic. Without knowing where he was, finding his Padawan would be harder. But not impossible. Qui-Gon opened his eyes, a new resolution in his head, he took hold of his pain and his grief and released it into the Force. That had served its purpose. Qui-Gon slowly pushed himself up to his feet, the fatigue had not left him and stood to look in the ships mirror. Stars he looked old. Older than he was. Pain was aging him before his eyes. Qui-Gon splashed cool water on his face, hoping the slight redness around his eyes would fade, dried his hands and stepped out into the ship.

Anakin had not moved; he was still staring out the glass. He looked so young. Qui-Gon, while he did not understand the pain of leaving one’s family, he was too young to properly remember them, he could understand the feeling of loneliness and isolation of the void someone he cared about not being there. For Anakin it was undoubtably his mother. For Qui-Gon the list was far longer but his head jumped to Tahl, young Xanatos before he fell, and Obi-Wan. He sighed and approached Anakin who started and turned to look at Qui-Gon. If he saw the older man’s red-rimmed eyes, he said nothing about it, for which Qui-Gon was grateful.

“You look tired, young one.”

“‘m not” Anakin struggled to hide a yawn.

Qui-Gon chuckled and held out a hand, “come on. You need to rest.” Anakin peered at the offered hand and, after a slight hesitation, took it. Qui-Gon led him to the back of the ship where several bunks were sunk into the walls. Anakin sat on the nearest one to the door but did not lie down, Qui-Gon knew Anakin was desperately trying to stay awake, his Force signature flickered as he tried to fight off sleep. Qui-Gon reached out and gently pushed a sleep suggestion on the young boy’s mind which offered no resistance.

“Qui-Gon” Anakin mumbled, his eyes starting to droop.

“Yes Anakin.”

“Can you promise me we will find Obi-Wan.” The young boy fell onto his side, the cushions comforting his little body, “I need to tell him thank you for saving me.”

Qui-Gon’s reply got caught in his throat and a little choked sound came out. Thankfully Anakin was already asleep. Qui-Gon reached out and brushed a couple strands of blonde hair away from the boy’s face, “yes. I promise you we will find him.”

Qui-Gon left the sleeping child and sat back in the pilot’s chair, Anakin’s words from earlier spun through his head, lost things have a way of coming back home. Qui-Gon clenched a hand over his injury and made an oath to himself and his lost Padawan: “I will find you, no matter how long it takes, I will bring you home.”

Chapter Text

Kriff his head hurt. Obi-Wan came to slowly. His head pounded making it hard to think straight. A low rumble wormed its way into his ears. He was lying on his side on cold, hard ground, but when he went to get up, he found his hand were tied up behind his back, his right wrist was aching under the bindings. Obi-Wan went to open his eyes but found there was something over them. He hated feeling so slow to comprehend, his brain worked at quarter speed.

He took in a stabilising breath and tried to organise his thoughts. He was lying down, hands feet bound, eyes covered. Was he gagged? He opened his mouth and found there were no restraints. He felt the chill in the air next, that cool air can only be found in space, where was he? The rumble must be the engines. He let out a small whimper.

“So, you’re awake.” A voice cut through the drone of the engines, he remembered that voice. The Sith. Obi-Wan scrambled backwards, not knowing if would hit anything but his instincts told him to get away from that voice, “You’re not going to get very far it’s a small ship.” Obi-Wan froze, the voice was right. He needed to contact Qui-Gon. If he could get his location his master could come rescue him. Obi-Wan reached for the Force when then a hand slapped across his face shocking him out of the Force, “None of that. Can’t have you revealing where we are now can we?”

A hand roughly grabbed Obi-Wan’s tunic and lifted his torso slightly. Obi-Wan knew struggling would get him nowhere so he hung limp in the Sith’s grip. A sharp jab in his neck and cool liquid flushed into his blood. Instantly his brain fogged up even more. His nerves were numbed; he felt like he was floating while being crushed into the floor. His breaths started to come in gasps, the darkness he stared at through his eyelids swam and bright colourful shapes whirled and twisted in his vision. He felt like he was going to be sick. He knew he was in danger, but he couldn’t bring himself to care but he so afraid. The formless shapes warped into horrific faces, stretched and gaping mouths screamed silently as their eyes rolled in their heads. Faces rushed at him then dissolved and melted as more and more came at him. Obi-Wan wanted to scream but his voice had left him, he was left alone surrounded by terrifying visions.

He did not know how long he was trapped in that hellscape. Finally, the faces slowly reverted back to being formless shapes, eventually they dissipated into nothing but the all-encompassing darkness. Feeling came back to him, his fingers tingles viciously, and his stomach felt like he was recovering from the worst hangover in his life. Needing help to ground himself Obi-Wan reached out for the Force but found he couldn’t grasp it. Like water it eluded him, tempting him, only to slip through his fingers when he tried to touch it. Panic built in his chest. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he reach the Force?

Light burst through his eyelids as the pressure from the blindfold vanished. He squinted harder to stop the pain from the sudden exposure. He knew he should be trying to assess where he was and his best escape plan but none of his training prepared him on what to do when you get kidnapped by a Sith lord.

“Welcome back to the real world, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He squinted up at his captor. The Sith leered down at him from his crouch over the boy’s prone body, black teeth bared in a grin that drove a cold spike of fear deep into his chest. The Sith had discarded its long robes, leaving him in a black loose tunic, on his belt hung his and Obi-Wan’s lightsabers. The Sith caught Obi-Wan’s gaze and touched his lightsaber, “insurance. Can’t have you using it against me and escaping.”

“How forward thinking of you.” Obi-Wan mumbled but the Sith laughed.

“Oh, you will be a fun one to break, Jedi.” The Sith stood up, “Though this will be my first time trying this, so it’ll be trial and error. I hope you’ll bear with me.”

“Of course, take your time, Sith.” Obi-Wan glared at his captor.

The smile evaporated off the Sith’s face, “I will.” Obi-Wan swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. His head was spinning, the aftereffects of the drug and a concussion he was sure. The Sith took advantage of his pause and forcefully pulled the blindfold back down over his eyes, then he roughly dragged Obi-Wan to his feet. The young man grunted in pain as his shoulders protested the aggressive treatment. The Sith then pushed Obi-Wan forwards and down a ramp out of the ship. Hot air hit his face and made him recoil, “Move.” the Sith hissed at him and tightened his grip on Obi-Wan’s arm.

Obi-Wan tried to use the Force again to help his footing but it still remained intangible and he stumbled when the slope ended and the ground levelled out. He was led forwards, the ground was rocky and uneven, the Sith seemed to enjoy Obi-Wan’s struggle to remain upright. His mocking laughter grated Obi-Wan’s frayed nerves. He heard a hiss up ahead and the air temperature cooled around him as he stepped through what he presumed was a doorway. The ground under his feet rang with the hollow sound of metal. He was inside. Obi-Wan jumped when the entrance closed behind him. The Sith pulled Obi-Wan to the right and through a series of hallways. Obi-Wan let himself fall into step behind his captor focusing on the direction he was headed. Two left turns, a right. A long straight. But then the Sith stopped and pulled him in a circle disorientating Obi-Wan. Once again, he was utterly lost. The Sith was deliberately trying to confuse him. Each time Obi-Wan started to memorise the way the Sith would spin him or back track. Obi-Wan felt the panic from earlier rise up in his chest, he was completely alone, unable to reach the Force, his master or anyone he knew and was stuck on some planet in a building he did not know his way around.

Obi-Wan, lost in his head, slammed into the back of the Sith who had stopped, “back off, Jedi.” There was the sound of another door opening, musty and chilly air spilled out making goosebumps rise on Obi-Wan’s arms, “Welcome home, Kenobi.”

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan asked.

The sound of a lightsaber reached Obi-Wan’s ears and he tensed, waiting to be struck. But the bonds around his wrists fell away, then the Sith shoved Obi-Wan making him trip and fall. Obi-Wan rolled out of it and ripped off the blindfold in time to see the doors hiss closed. The red and black Sith, arms behind his back, watched him, “I am Darth Maul” a satisfied expression in his face, “and I will make you Fall.” The light from the corridor rapidly narrowing until, with a soft click the doors shut and left Obi-Wan in near darkness.

Obi-Wan approached the door, reaching out to touch it, he paused. What if it was booby trapped? It could be electrocuted. But why would the Sith, Maul he reminded himself, go to all that trouble of kidnapping him only to kill him with a trick like that? Sucking in a quick breath he shoved his hand on the door. Peeling his eyes open Obi-Wan relaxed, nothing had happened. He began running his hands along the door trying to see if there was any way to break out of it but the controls must be on the other side of the thick durasteel. Slamming his palm on the door he turned to see if he could find anything else that could help him in the cell.

The room was small and square. Five paces along each side, no windows, no seams in the wall, a small toilet in the corner, and only one exit. The room was lined with durasteel. With no weapons or tools Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t break out using force. He would have to think his way out of this. The effects of the drugs had faded but the concussion still made him feel woozy. Walking to the back corner he slid down the wall and sat, curled up, in the floor, he cradled his sore right wrist in his hand. He needed to think. What would Qui-Gon do?

“Come on Kenobi. Think.” But he was so tired, “No you need to stay awake. Come on. What would Qui-Gon do?” Just five minutes to close his eyes.

~~~

When Obi-Wan was still a youngling he had been a bright child. Happy, talkative and friendly he had wormed his way into the hearts of everyone he met. Even though he had arrived later than most of his creche-mates he made himself known quickly. Master Shaak Ti, his creche master, had been especially fond of little Kenobi and often kept an eye on him, thought she would never admit to such favouritism to anyone. So, when he came out of the dormitories where his clan slept, she instantly noticed how subdued he was, even with his shields, a skill he had progressed much quicker than any of his other creche-mates, strong as they were, she could read his body language and observed that he sat in a corner and just watched his friends. He managed to make himself nearly invisible to anyone not looking for him. Shaak was about to go over and ask him what’s wrong when one of his friends, Garen Muln ran over to him. As soon as Obi-Wan saw Garen approaching his face, which had been drawn and tense, morphed into a relaxed smile and he let his friend drag him over to the rest of his friends. Shaak did notice how, while Garen was talking animatedly, Obi-Wan was staying very quiet and just nodded along.

The next day Obi-Wan was back to his usual bubbly self and was involved in the activities and studies. Shaak had put his behaviour yesterday to a possible argument or just a child’s mood swings, he had always been more prone to strong emotions. She put yesterday to the back of her mind. There was no point dwelling on the past. But the past doesn’t always want to be forgotten. A week had passed since that day, Master Yoda was introducing the younglings to meditation. Shaak sat in the corner watching the clan as they sat in a circle, legs crossed, hands resting on their knees and their eyes closed. Master Yoda gently guided them through the basic principles of meditation, emphasising the importance of a strong mind, and how a Jedi’s mind is one of their greatest weapons. Even though the younglings did not have a very refined grasp of the Force at their tender age and would only work towards a light meditation, Shaak could still feel the collective power as the younglings concentrated and accessed the Force together.

She remained in the present to watch over them, and in this rare moment of utter peace she happily observed them. As she mused, she felt a slight shift in the Force, she frowned and searched for it. She glanced at Yoda and saw he too had felt it as his ears were slightly pulled back, but he was staying in his light trance guiding the younglings who seemed oblivious to the shift. Shaak let the Force guide her eyes to Obi-Wan who was sitting on the edge of the circle. Whereas all the others were looking serene or had their brows furrowed with concentration, Obi-Wan looked pained, his eyebrows drawn close together and his tiny hands gripped the fabric of his tunic tightly. She then noticed a small dribble of bright red blood coming from his nose. Shaak stood up silently as to not to disturb the other students and walked over to Obi-Wan. She crouched next to him and gently touched his hand as she reached for him in the Force.

Younglings are known in the Temple for not being able to shield their minds. Their emotions and thoughts project into the Force for anyone to hear, whether they want to or not. While they are taught it from the beginning of their training it takes years for the younglings to properly be able to shield. Older Jedi know to avoid the creche if they are more sensitive to the feelings of others as they will often develop a pounding headache after a short exposure to the open minds of the younglings. However, when Shaak went to comfort Obi-Wan and bring him out of his meditation she found his mind was blocked by the strongest shields she had ever seen in a youngling. He had the shields of a Jedi far beyond his years. She could just see his signature though them; he was hurting, scared, and confused. This was not the Obi-Wan she was used to seeing. She reached out to Yoda and indicated she was taking Obi-Wan to the Temple healers. There was something else going on here. Shaak then brought her mind back to Obi-Wan and ever so gently pulled him away from his creche-mates’ meditative states until he was alone with the master. Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed sightly and his nose continued to bleed. Shaak did not try to bring him out, it could cause more distress and damage if she pulled him out now. He needed to come out of this naturally.

She lifted the boy in his arms and swept out of the room and through the Temple to the Halls of Healing. It was quiet when she arrived. She found Vokara Che as she left a patient’s room, “what do we have here, Master Ti?” the Twi’Lek asked, a hand on her hips.

“I am not sure, Master Che.” Shaak followed Vokara to another room and placed Obi-Wan on the bed, “Master Yoda was leading them through the basics of mediation when I felt a disturbance in the Force. I saw Obi-Wan’s nosebleed and I could feel his energy showed his distress, and his presence” she paused and gestured for Vokara to look at Obi-Wan, “well you can see for yourself.”

Shaak watched as the Healer closed her eyes only to open them soon after, “I haven’t seen shielding like that in someone his age. He hasn’t changed since you felt it?”

“No, but he hasn’t come out of his meditation yet.”

“A meditation, it is not.” Yoda’s voice cut through Vokara’s reply.

“Master Yoda.” Vokara and Shaak bowed at the older master, “what do you mean?”

Yoda slowly walked up to the bed and with sudden agility leapt onto the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed and laid a hand on the child, “Confused and full of fear this child is. The cause of this, meditation is not.” Yoda turned to look at the two female Jedi, “a vision this is.” Shaak and Vokara exchanged concerned looks, “happened before, has this?”

“Not that I have seen myself, but I do not think this is the first time.” Shaak said, “last week I noticed he was very subdued and reserved, I put it down to the fluctuating mood of a youngling but having seen this I believe he might have had a vision. His behaviour that day was very unlike Obi-Wan.” Under the long sleeves of her robes Shaak’s hands were gripped tightly together, the only sign of her anxiety.

Yoda hummed.

“Forgive me, Master Yoda, I must return to the younglings. I shall leave him in your capable hands, Master Che.” With a bow Shaak left the room, her red robe whispering in the air.

“Is there anything we can do, Master Yoda?” Vokara used a damp towel to wipe away the blood that was still trickling down from the young boy’s nose.

“To pull one out of a vision, at this age, risky it is. Worth the potential perils it is not. For now, let him be we must.” Yoda brushed the Obi-Wan’s short hair from his face, his expression neutral though Vokara could still feel his mild concern. Visions are rare these days, long gone are the Jedi of old who could pierce the veil of time at will. Now only few have the power and rather than being able to manipulate it themselves, they must endure visions which are thrust upon them at the fancy of the Force. Often visions do not begin until the Jedi is older, so for one so young to be one of the few gifted, if that is the right word to use, with this skill Vokara sensed a long and tiresome battle with them in Obi-Wan’s future, “stay with him until he wakes up I will, confused and needing guidance young Kenobi will be.”

“Yes, Master Yoda. If you need me, I will be with one of the other patients, call me if you need anything.” Vokara bowed and walked towards the door.

“Thank you, Master Che.” Yoda then sat himself in his meditative pose and closed his eyes.

Two minutes later Obi-Wan’s eyes opened. He sat up gasping, his eyes were wild. Instantly Yoda reached out both with his hand and with the Force, sent waves of calming peace towards the boy. Rather than relaxing into his touch, Obi-Wan jerked his arm away and threw up heavy shields in his mind. Tears started to race down his cheeks. He still looked disorientated.

“Peace, Obi-Wan.” Yoda said. At his words Obi-Wan snapped his eyes to the little green master, “safe in the Halls of Healing, you are.” Obi-Wan made a small noise as though he heard Yoda but hadn’t quite processed it, his panicked tear-filled eyes were locked on Yoda’s old green ones, “A vision, you had.” At this Obi-Wan blinked, he looked so fragile and so young and so vulnerable, “Show me what you saw, might you?”

Obi-Wan swallowed, his initial terror having faded enough for him to start to shrink into himself. Obi-Wan scrunched his nose at the tightness around his lips and wiped the back of his hand to rub away the dried blood.

“Release your emotions you should, young one. No good holding on to fear, does you.” Yoda said

“It was so loud.” Obi-Wan’s voice was as thin as tissue paper. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them, “my ears hurt.”

“Show me what you saw in your vision, may you?” Yoda asked, and sent an encouragement through the Force.

“I don’t know how.”

“First lower your shields you must.” Obi-Wan drew away from him, his presence in the Force shrunk even smaller, compacting down on his writhing emotions, “Remember Obi-Wan” Yoda’s voice turning stern, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” It took Obi-Wan a moment to start to lower his shields, when he did Yoda entered his mind and saw turmoil.

“Focus not on your emotions, but the vision.” He instructed

A flash of light and the sound of a bomb exploding. A small ship flying off leaving him behind. Running in tunnels behind a group of teenagers. His heart raced. Holding a dying girl in his arms as her eyes dimmed, lifeless. Betrayal. Looking for someone to guide him but no one there. Regret.

Yoda let these sensations wash over him as he took it in, “done well you have, young one.” He spoke through the Force, “Now, let it pass through and release it into the Force.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t hide his struggle. He did not want to hold on to these feelings but the pain in his future made him fearful. Yoda sympathised with the child. Visions are difficult to handle, especially when they are as distressing as this, but the boy was to be a Jedi and Jedi do not hold onto feelings like fear. Obi-Wan seemed to sense Yoda’s iron will and slowly began to shakily siphon off fragments of the vision. The images will fade over time, but Yoda knew he must help guide this boy through his visions. Ignored they could prove dangerous to him and others.

Finally, Obi-Wan had released everything into the Force, with Yoda occasionally assisting him and he had calmed. Together they rose from their meditative states, “well you have done, easy to release a vision it is not.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“For now, you will not. Difficult to understand the Force is at first. Ever shifting the future is, a possibility you saw.” Obi-Wan nodded, “Guide you through them, I will.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, “will it happen again?”

“Yes.”

“What if I don’t want it to?”

“No choice in the matter you have. Learn to accept that you must, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master Yoda.”

~~~

Obi-Wan was aware he was lying on the metal floor, but his mind was far away. In his mind’s eye he was staring down at Qui-Gon, they were surrounded by darkness.

“Obi-Wan…please” his master’s voice grated against his throat, “stop this.”

Obi-Wan felt savage pleasure at seeing him so vulnerable at his feet, “you brought this on yourself, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan’s voice was deeper, harsher. Not his own. In his hand he held a long, thin lightsaber hilt, Obi-Wan felt his thumb shift and a red blade exploded out of the top throwing Qui-Gon’s face into sharp relief as its light fell on him, “you should have come for me.”

“I tried but you were gone–”

“You gave up on me! You knew I was a lost cause from the start.” Obi-Wan felt his rage and felt himself scoop it up and revel in its power, “you never wanted me, never gave me a chance. You never loved me; not like you did Xanatos.” He snarled,” Not like you did yourself.”

“That’s not true.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Jedi.”

“Don’t do this, Padawan.” Qui-Gon was begging him, how wonderful, “please.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Once you do this, there’s no going back.”

“Don’t you understand, Qui-Gon? There is no going back for me. This is my destiny, the one you left me to all those years ago.” Obi-Wan gripped his lightsaber, and raised it, “Poetic justice don’t you think? You sealed your own fate by abandoning me to mine.”

“Obi-Wan–” Qui-Gon’s voice was cut off as the right blade punched through his heart.

Obi-Wan arched gasping as his back spasmed in sharp, terrible agony, the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue and he spluttered as it ran down his throat. His mind swirled with the after image of Qui-Gon’s dying face. A weight was pressed down on his lower back as the driving pain in his mid-back twisted deeper. He screamed and struggled to free himself, but it only caused him further anguish.

“I hope you had a good rest, Kenobi.” Maul’s cold voice said, “it’ll be the last one you have for a while.” The object in his back vanished but the pain still remained. It stole his breath and left him weak. Cold iron manacles clamped around his wrists. Maul’s strong grip heaved Obi-Wan off the floor, he cried out as his back seized up again, pain shot through his spine and into his head which drove him to his knees. Chains were attached to the cuffs, chains which looped up to the ceiling and back down to a crank which had not been there earlier. Maul started to turn the lever, the chains started to lift off the floor, Obi-Wan’s hands followed suit. Obi-Wan had to stand as his arms were forced higher. Maul stopped when Obi-Wan was stretched, not yet on his tiptoes but unable to relax.

Obi-Wan’s head was torn between his predicament and the remnants of his vision, how he had killed, no murdered, Qui-Gon and had savoured the pain and anger. How he had willingly used the Dark Side. The pain in his back stopped him from being able to focus solely on the vision; he could feel the blood dripping down, soaking his tunic.

“I doubt you’re feeling too good right now. This blade tends to have that effect.” Maul walked towards Obi-Wan lazily twirling a knife in his hands. In the dim light of the cell Obi-Wan caught glimpses of a dark grey edge, an inscription on the blade in a language he couldn’t read. The knife was evil, he could feel the Dark Side woven into it. And he had been stabbed with it, Obi-Wan looked up at Maul, “this blade is hundreds of years old. It was created by the Sith, another way to extend their power.” Maul came closer to Obi-Wan who was sweating from the pain in his back but there was a new feeling too, it was like an infection, “you see the inscription here?” Maul held up the blade to Obi-Wan who instead glared at the Sith, “this is a curse. It was cursed by the Nightsisters, it has a corrupting effect. It leaves traces of Darkness wherever it goes. All through its history, this knife has left a trail of devastation and darkness in its wake. And now you” Maul poked Obi-Wan’s chest with the tip of the knife, “are another chapter in this blade’s book.”

“Thank you for that riveting history lesson” Obi-Wan began, trying to hide his pain.

“Oh no, I don’t think you understand what I am saying, Kenobi. This little blade, it doesn’t just do dark things, it is Darkness itself. It’s power leaves a residue. I’m sure you’re able to feel it even now. You have been touched by the Dark Side. No Jedi healers can get rid of that. You are already corrupted.” Maul’s eyes glimmered with glee, “What would poor Qui-Gon think? His precious Padawan already losing himself, straying from the Jedi path.”

“It will take more than a knife would to get me to even consider the idea of Falling, Maul.” Obi-Wan hissed.

Maul seemed unaffected, “we shall see.” With one last flip of the blade Maul left Obi-Wan, the doors slid shut sealing Obi-Wan in darkness once again.

Alone his thoughts went back to his vision, Maul’s words and his fear hung think in the air like syrup and covered every image of his vision as he thought about it. Feeling himself panicking Obi-Wan pulled on his lessons with Yoda and began reciting to himself, “the future is ever changing, that isn’t going to happen.” What if it does? “No. I can’t– I can’t kill Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan’s voice caught in his throat. A tiny hysteric laugh bubbled up his throat, “talking to yourself, Kenobi. First sign of madness.” Tears pricked at his eyes. He wished for Qui-Gon to be here, he would know what to do, what to say.

He hadn’t been ready to be knighted. Obi-Wan knew why his master had been so adamant about making Anakin his new apprentice, he was the Chosen One. Possibly the most powerful Jedi. The saviour of the Light. What was Obi-Wan compared to that? Still, the fact that Qui-Gon had passed him over so quickly and without discussing it with him, it had hurt. It still hurt. Obi-Wan tried again to reach the Force, whereas before the drugs had stopped him, this time the pain and the Dark oily sickness from the stab wound in his back blotted out his connection. He was so terribly alone.

“Please Qui-Gon. I need you.”

Only the darkness in the cell heard his whispered plea.

Chapter Text

Anakin’s jaw was practically on the ground. He couldn’t believe what was before him. The last time he had visited the Temple it had been a very fast trip; he hadn’t been allowed to see anything but the inside of a turbolift and the Council room. He had quickly glimpsed golden light on his way to the turbolift but nothing beyond that. He hadn’t been a proper Jedi then, so he hadn’t been allowed to see much. A Mon Calamari with huge silver eyes met him and Qui-Gon as they disembarked from their small ship, the older Jedi still used Anakin to lean on, he was trying to hide his pain but Anakin could sense it in his own mind.

“Master Qui-Gon.” She looked very worried. After Anakin had woken up on the ship Qui-Gon had told him that he had sent a message to the Council briefly telling them of their events at Naboo.

“Bant.”

“I was told you are injured.” Bant’s voice was thick with supressed emotion, “I am here to make sure you actually go to the Halls of Healing.”

“There’s no need to escort–”

“You can’t convince me otherwise. Not after all those times I have had to chase you and Obi–” her voice caught in her throat. She paused, “I need to get you there as soon as I can, or Master Che will be less than pleased with me.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Qui-Gon gave her a weak smile which was most likely meant to be encouraging but to Anakin it just looked sad.

“Very well. Lead the way, Padawan Eerin.” Qui-Gon gestured for her to take them to the Halls.

This time they walked out of the hangar to a spacious room with a ceiling that was hidden in shade it was that tall. Anakin felt his eyes widen further when he saw more corridors sprouting off the one they were in. Golden light shone in thick, slanted pillars on the ground. Anakin wanted to run down the hallway in and out of the light, in and out all the way down. All the way down. It was such a long hallway it looked like it went on forever. And dozens of Jedi walked the path. They wore Jedi brown cloaks like Qui-Gon and there were so many different species. Anakin could see Rodians, Twi’Lek, Zabrak, Ithorians and so many others he didn’t recognise.

“Anakin, stay close.” Qui-Gon’s voice echoed pleasantly in the corridor.

“Coming.” Anakin jogged to catch up with the other two Jedi as they turned down a small side passage which led to rows of turbolifts. These ones were much nicer than the public ones he used last time. The public ones were basic and only had a couple buttons. These lifts had hundreds of buttons. He wanted to press them all. In his time as a Jedi Anakin wanted to visit every one of the rooms and press every button.

Bant pressed one and the lift doors shut with a soft hiss. Anakin’s stomach swooped as the capsule quickly rose. There was an uncomfortable tension in the lift, Anakin didn’t say anything even thought he was bursting with questions. How did these lifts operate? How many lifts were there? Can they go anywhere in the Temple? Where was he going to live? Can he see the gardens? Is there any food? Thankfully it was a short journey and the trio stepped out into another beautiful ceiling. The energy felt different here compared to that of the previous hallway. There it had been active with so many different people all moving around it. Here it felt calmer and soothing.

A blue Twi’Lek strode out of the entrance to the Halls, she did not look happy “Qui-Gon.” Anakin shrunk behind the Jedi’s robes. He wasn’t afraid of her, but she intimidated him, “it took you karking long enough to get yourself here.”

“Lovely to see you too Master Che.” Qui-Gon tilted his head, “it has been too long.”

“You insufferable old man. Get inside.” Her lekku twitched irritably, “I need to take a look at you.” Qui-Gon, Bant and Anakin followed Master Che into a small single patient room in Halls of Healing, “If I find that you’ve done nothing more than slap a bacta patch on a lightsaber wound I will personally lock you in a room and melt the circuits.” When Qui-Gon did not answer, she threw her hands up in the air, “you really give me a run for my credits. Right, take off those robes and get on the bed.” She turned to Anakin, hands on her hips, but her face relaxed a little and she semi-smiled, “are you injured?”

Anakin shook his head, unsure what to say. The Twi’Lek narrowed her eyes slightly and Anakin felt a presence brush his mind. Her eyes widened slightly as the aura vanished.

“Hm. Stay outside with Padawan Eerin while I deal with Master Qui-Gon, then I will check you over too.”

Bant bowed and took Anakin’s hand in hers and led him outside into the waiting area, she and Anakin sat down in the seats. Anakin, now without Qui-Gon at his side, felt unsure what to do.

“Master Che sounds intimidating but she’s a very good healer.” Bant’s voice was reassuring.

“Doesn’t make her any less scary.”

Bant laughed, “I guess you’re right there. My name is Bant.” She smiled down at him.

“I’m Anakin.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Anakin. I’m sorry if I didn’t introduce myself earlier. Master Qui-Gon can be a very difficult person when he wants to be. He doesn’t particularly like the Halls.”

Anakin grinned, “is that why you were sent to meet us?”

Bant nodded, “he has a habit of hiding his injuries and trying to deal with them himself.” She chuckled softly, “one time, after he came back from a mission on… oh where was it?” Bant flapped her hand, “it doesn’t matter. Anyway, he said he was fine and the next day when he was giving his debrief to the Council he passed out. Fell flat on his face.” Anakin and Bant laughed, “turns out he had managed to catch some sort of flu while he had been away. It took him four days to get back to normal, all the time he was here he was insistent that he was perfectly fine even though the antibiotics made him very drowsy, so his eyes were all over the place.” Bant’s eyes suddenly went sad, “I remember Obi-Wan telling me about it. He was furious at Qui-Gon for not telling anyone, least of all him. He cared so much about Qui-Gon.”

Anakin bit his lip, anxiety and guilt twisted in his stomach, “how did you know Obi-Wan?”

“We were creche-mates. We grew up together.”

Anakin wasn’t sure what to say. What do you say to someone who’s childhood friend had been taken away by something as horrible as the red and black creature? Anakin hadn’t had any friends like that. Not real friends he trusted, “we will get him back.” Anakin wasn’t sure if he was saying that to make himself feel better or Bant.

Bant still looked lost but she gave him a little grateful smile.

Anakin couldn’t bear anymore silence, “Are you a Mon Calamari?”

“I am.”

“I’ve never seen one before. It’s too dry on Tatooine.”

Bant smothered a smile, “Oh?” she shifted so she faced Anakin, “what do you think? Do I live up to expectations?”

Anakin wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He knew Watto would say something crude which would get him a slap, “Your eyes are very pretty.”

Bant laughed, “thank you, Anakin.”

“You’re very nice. I see why Obi-Wan liked you.”

Bant still smiled but it lost a little of her joy. Thankfully Master Che entered then wiping her hands on a clean piece of linen that hung in her belt, “right, now that Master Qui-Gon has been dealt with it’s your turn, Skywalker.”

Anakin slid off the chair and followed the tall healer to a different room, “Is Qui-Gon ok?”

“That’s Master Qui-Gon to you. And yes, he will be fine. He’s in a bacta tank for now but thankfully his injury didn’t puncture any organs so he will only need to be submerged for a day or two. Until then you will stay in the creche with the other younglings.” Master Che indicated to the bed, “Hop on.”

Anakin clambered onto the soft mattress and patiently waited as she gently began to check him over. Master Che looked into his eyes, mouth and ears, tapped his knees and then asked him to remove his tunic so she could check his breathing all the while asking him about himself, she was interested in the pod racing and asked lots of good questions.

When Anakin had placed his dirty tunic on the sheet next to him he heard Master Che make a little disapproving noise, “have you fallen over? Or been hit on your back?”

“Um I hit a wall.”

“Dare to elaborate?”

“I don’t know how it happened, but I flew backwards.”

Master Che nodded, “You were Force Pushed.”

“Obi-Wan did it.”

“I will put some bacta gel and the bruising will fade quickly. Apart from that I can’t find any injures.” Master Che offered Anakin his tunic, “I need to check your signature now. After being near so much Dark energy I need to make sure you are unaffected.”

“My what?” Anakin quickly pulled it on. He liked Master Che, she was direct and her emotions were clear to him. Sometimes he found Qui-Gon’s hard to read.

“Your Force signature, it’s how you look in the Force. Everyone’s is unique, like a fingerprint.”

Anakin looked at his hands, dirt was still trapped in the creases between his fingers and under his nails. He wasn’t sure if he wanted someone looking at him, his mind was always been the one thing that was his. No one else’s.

“It won’t hurt.” Master Che gave him a smile she seemed to sense his trepidation, “I will just have a quick look. If you close your eyes and focus on the Force you will be able to see me too.”

Anakin nodded silently, still unsure but he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the energy he felt all around him. Something lightly brushed against his mind and at first he recoiled, the sensation still strange and uncomfortable but then he felt peace where the mind had touched his. Slowly he let himself relax and saw another bright presence next to him. A Force signature. He knew it was Master Che, it was the same one which tried to examine him earlier.

Anakin thought back to when he had looked at Obi-Wan and felt a little guilty, he had not been subtle when he had done it, he guessed he had done the equivalent of throwing himself at Obi-Wan. No wonder he wanted to stop Anakin seeing him; he would have felt like Anakin was trying to climb inside his brain.

True to her word, Master Che did not stay long, she gave him a quick look over the retreated, “Stars and galaxies your presence is powerful. I thought I didn’t see it right the first time. I’ve never seen … especially so young.” She trailed off; a finger rested on her bottom lip.

“Did I do something wrong?” Anakin’s stomach clenched with worry.

“Not at all, Anakin.” Her lekku shifted behind her shoulders, “I will be very interested to watch your time here at the Temple.” With that she called Bant in, who had been waiting behind the door, “he’s all ready to go. Take him to the creche. He will need to stay there until Qui-Gon wakes and then he will sort out what happens next.”

“Yes, Master Che. Thank you.” Bant bowed then held her hand out for Anakin who wiggled off the bed and took it.

“Thank you, Master Che.” Anakin clumsily turned as they left and gave a bow not letting go of Bant’s hand making him twist awkwardly.

“May the Force be with you, young Skywalker.” The Twi’lek tilted her head, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

~~~

The doors of the turbolift slid open and Qui-Gon stepped out into the antechamber to the councils waiting area. Anakin sat on one of the couches his heels swinging and lightly bumping the legs of the seat. When he heard the hiss of the turbolift he looked up and his face lit up and he ran over to him, “Master Qui-Gon!”

“Hello Anakin.” Qui-Gon bent down to welcome the boy. After two days in the tank and three in the Halls of Healing the agony from the lightsaber wound was, thankfully, now a memory, not even a scar remained. However, the sickly smell of bacta still clung to his nose and throat.

“Are you better? Master Che said you were in a bacta tank and then I couldn’t come and see you ‘cus I was in the crèche and I met lots of younglings and I started to learn how to shield. Everyone says I’m very loud.”

“In both the Force and with your voice” Qui-Gon chuckled and touched Anakin’s shoulder, “but I am happy to hear of you enjoying the crèche.”

“It’s wizard.” He paused, “but I prefer it when I’m with you.” He glanced behind him, “what are we here for anyway? No one will tell me.”

“We need to tell the Council what happened on Naboo. They need to know so that we can help Obi-Wan.”

Anakin nodded, “do I have to do anything?” His young face was set in determination.

“The Council might ask you a few questions, but for the most part I will be speaking. When we are in there try to focus on your shields, I can already see they are good but we can’t have your emotions getting the better of you in there, it wouldn’t bring us any favours.”

“Yes Master.”

“Good.” Qui-Gon stood up, “it’s shouldn’t be too long now until they see us.”

He was right. A couple minutes later a Padawan Qui-Gon did not recognise came through the doors to the Council room and summoned them. It was a full Council. With a matter as important as Naboo it was no surprise to the Jedi master. Masters Oppo Rancisis and Ki-Adi-Mundi were holograms, the latter having been sent to Naboo in place of Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon bowed to the council members, “Masters.” He saw Anakin hastily follow his movements. The boy looked intimidated even though the was trying to hide it. It was understandable. A full Council was a lot of pressure, especially for an untrained initiate.

“Master Jinn. Initiate Skywalker.” Yoda welcomed them, “under strained and pressured circumstances we meet.”

“Yes Master Yoda. I feel we should begin our search for Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi as soon as possible.”

“I agree” Plo Koon interjected, “but first you must tell us exactly what occurred on Naboo. Your mission report was vague to say the least.” The Kel Dor’s mild disapproval was visible even behind his mask.

Qui-Gon nodded and began recounting the events of the battle at Theed to the Council. He was careful to put aside his emotions and report just the facts. However, when his narrative finally arrived at the reactor his voice started to waver, “Obi-Wan and myself were both fighting the Sith, his dual lightsaber made him a formidable opponent. As I told you last time he was well trained in the Jedi arts and the ways of the Force. The Sith managed to kick Obi-Wan away from me, I lost sight of him briefly but I could not stop to help him as the Sith was still attacking me. Our fight took us to a corridor which was lined with multiple ray shields. One activated between the Sith and I and I sensed Obi-Wan at the end of the hallways behind the penultimate shield. When the shield deactivated I attacked the Sith, Obi-Wan wasn’t quick enough and was once again stopped by the shield. At this point I could feel myself beginning to tire.” Qui-Gon paused for a moment, the Council watched him intently, “the Sith managed to get through my defence and he was about to kill me when Obi-Wan used the Force to unbalance the Sith, rather than the lightsaber piercing my heart it went through my side instead.” Qui-Gon gestured to his midriff, “the shields lifted and Obi-Wan once again saved me by starting his own attack on the Sith. At this point I was incapacitated by my injury so I was unable to assist my Padawan.” Guilt started to build in Qui-Gon’s chest but quickly he released it into the Force before anyone could notice, “the Sith used the Force to throw Obi-Wan to the wall where he hit his head. I thought he was going to strike him where he lay, but instead the Sith said that Obi-Wan would be a good ‘candidate’.”

“Do you know what the Sith meant by this?” Mace Windu leant forwards in his chair, hands steepled under his chin.

“No. All I know is that from them on the Sith was focused on stopping me from rising. It was only the will of the Force that saved me from being killed by the debris the Sith was throwing at me. All the while Obi-Wan was reaching for his lightsaber but the Sith caught on and stopped him. Then I saw Anakin at the end of the hallway.” Qui-Gon saw Depa Billaba’s eyes glance over to the boy and back to him, “the Sith used the Force to try and kill him but Obi-Wan saved him by Force Pushing him away. By this time the Sith knew it had won.” Qui-Gon tried to hide the bitterness in his voice, “he was just playing with us. After one last final attack with the Force which I was caught up in, the Sith had already begun dragging Obi-Wan away. I could not stop him, and I stopped Anakin going after him.”

“A wise choice you made, Master Qui-Gon, but difficult I am sure.” Yoda said. He then turned to Anakin, “what is your side of this story, Initiate Skywalker?”

Qui-Gon looked down at the boy who swallowed, his hands trembled slightly due to nerves. Qui-Gon sent feelings of calm and confidence to the boy who visibly relaxed and unclenches his hands. Qui-Gon listened to Anakin’s story of his battle in the starfighter and he would be lying if a modicum of pride did not glow in his chest. Anakin would make a great Jedi, one of the best in its history; his strong will and undeniable potential skill with the Force ensured to Qui-Gon that Anakin’s future would be legendary.

“–and then I saw Master Qui-Gon and when I went to help him Obi-Wan made my fly backwards. I hit the wall, Master Che said it was really bruised but it didn’t hurt much. But then the…Sith” he glanced at Qui-Gon to check he used the right word and the older Jedi gave him a small nod, “the Sith took Obi-Wan away.”

“Thank you, Initiate Skywalker.” Depa Billaba’s voice was warm and kind, Qui-Gon could feel Anakin’s pride through his flimsy shields, “you fought well for one so young.”

“Thank you.” Anakin shifted uncomfortably, unused to be under the intense scrutiny of a Council member.

“Have you tried to reach your Padawan through your training bond?” Adi Gallia inquired to Qui-Gon.

“I have, several times. The first few Obi-Wan seemed to have been under the influence of a sedative. But since then when I try to reach him…” Qui-Gon thought how to put into the words the floating sensation he feels when he tried to contact Obi-Wan yesterday. He could vaguely see Obi-Wan’s signature, but that was all. There was no presence, Qui-Gon could not ascertain his Padawan’s emotions nor could he properly connect. Their bond was there but it faded out at Obi-Wan’s end, it felt like static when Qui-Gon pushed harder, “I believe Obi-Wan is unable to access the Force. Our bond is there but there is no way of contacting him, I can see him but nothing else.”

“Concerning this is.” Yoda grasped his gimer stick, “for a Senior Padawan to be taken, much information he knows, ripe for the Sith to take.” Qui-Gon suppressed the flash of anger he knew would come, Yoda still picked up on it however, “disagree with me you do, Qui-Gon?”

“No, Master Yoda but I will not lie and say the thought of my Padawan in the hands of the Sith concerns me. I am worried about losing more than just information to his hands.”

“Fear for your Apprentice, you do.”

Qui-Gon said nothing, but the ancient master seemed to take that as confirmation.

“Struggled with attachment with Xanatos, you did. Moved past that I thought you had when training young Kenobi.” Yoda’s gaze was intense, “however, come in use it may in our search for him. But” he held up a finger, “rely on these attachments you must not. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to the Dark Side, and stronger the Dark Side is becoming.”

“Without being able to contact Obi-Wan, finding him will be far more difficult.” Plo Koon folded his hands into his lap.

“We could send a Shadow operative to try and gather information.” Adi Gallia offered.

“Where would you send them?” Mace Windu, “the Sith could have gone anywhere after Theed.”

The Council murmured in agreement. Qui-Gon bristled he would not let them get out of this so easily, “I will lead a rescue mission to find him.”

“While I sympathise with your matter” Oppo Rancisis spoke, “we cannot afford to put even a few Jedi on this case. We are stretched thin as it is and with the Sith becoming bolder we will be needed across the galaxy more than any time in living memory.” The Thisspaisian paused when he continues his voice was minutely softer, “we are not even sure if your apprentice going to be alive much longer. Why potentially risk the lives of many Jedi to save one whom we do not even know is alive?”

Qui-Gon clenched his hands harder under his long sleeves, and brought them together in front of him, “as I said earlier, Master Rancisis” he did not try to hide the bite of irritation in his voice, “I can sense that Obi-Wan is alive.”

“For now.”

“The sooner we can save him the better chance he has of surviving.” Qui-Gon would not back down, even if the Council denied him help he would make a way to find Obi-Wan.

“Put aside your emotions, Qui-Gon.” Rancisis’ voice was exasperated, “surely you must see reason. This is a suicide mission if we even manage to find where your apprentice is. We cannot take such a risk. Not to save just one.”

“You can’t leave Obi-Wan!” Anakin’s voice was high with emotion. All eyes turned to the boy whose eyes widened and he paled when he realised that had had spoken out in front of the Council.

“Anakin.” Qui-Gon sharply said, “apologies Masters. He does not know how to control nor shield his emotions yet.”

“Apparently neither do you.” Rancisis said matter-of-factly.

“Enough both of you.” Ki-Adi waved a hand, “Initiate Skywalker. Please go ahead. What is your view?”

Anakin stepped forwards, “Obi-Wan saved my life. After he pushed me out of the way I felt him in my head. He made sure I was ok, but even though it was really fast I felt that he was scared. I think he is still very scared and no one should have to suffer scared and alone. If you are as good as Master Qui-Gon had told me, then you would go and save him. He’s still a Jedi isn’t he? My mum always said you need to take care of people you care about. Master Qui-Gon tried to tell me about feelings and how you shouldn’t hold onto them, but don’t you care about him?”

Qui-Gon regarded the boy next to him. It took great courage to speak up before such a large group, especially one as imposing as the Jedi Council and he had managed to get his point across. Anakin shone bright in the Force, his signature pulsed with adrenaline. Qui-Gon sent a small pulse telling him he did well. Anakin glanced up at him nervous but pleased with himself.

“We do care.” Adi answered, “but we also have to think about those who would be putting their lives at risk potentially to find nothing when they arrive which could lead to more Jedi in the hands of the Sith.”

“Forgetting an important detail, we are.” Yoda had been silent for a while, considering everything that had been said, “before Naboo, said you would train young Skywalker you did, Qui-Gon. How would you train a Padawan and search for Obi-Wan?”

“I will help.” Plo Koon leant forwards in his seat. Qui-Gon would have hugged the Kel Dor, “while I agree with Master Gallia, Initiate Skywalker and Master Qui-Gon’s pleas were also true. No one should have to endure the Sith without hope of rescue. Least of all one of our own.”

“My thanks.” Qui-Gon bowed.

“Put this to a vote we must.” Yoda sat back in his chair.

Oppo Rancisis, Mace Windu, Even Piell, Adi Gallia and Yarael Poof voted against it but the motion was passed. Qui-Gon breathed deeply. I am coming Obi-Wan.

“I do not agree with this.” Mace’s disapproval was evident in his voice, he was watching Anakin and it was only due to the years of knowing Mace that Qui-Gon could read his suspicion, “but the Council have spoken. Master Qui-Gon will train Initiate Skywalker and will assist Master Plo with the search for Padawan Kenobi.”

“Thank you, Masters.”

“Qui-Gon.” Yoda’s gaze was intense, “Mindful of your bond with Obi-Wan you must be, if tainted by the Dark Side he becomes, sever that connection to protect yourself and young Skywalker you will have to.”

Qui-Gon had deliberately avoided thinking of that. The idea of Obi-Wan Falling was beyond comprehension but with all things considered it was a very distant possibility. He had no idea what his Padawan was being subjected to and he could not bear to dwell on those thoughts, “yes Master Yoda.” His voice was flat and deliberately guarded.

With a final bow he and Anakin exited the Council chamber. They walked in silence to the turbolift which opened at their approach. Qui-Gon pressed the button to take them to the tailors, Anakin needed to be fitted for his Padawan robes.

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t meant to speak just then” Anakin was frowning, “but it made me angry when they were talking about Obi-Wan like he didn’t matter.”

“No. You were right to speak, young one. It may have been in an…unorthodox manner so to speak, but you did well.” The lift doors opened and they stepped out into a quiet part of the Temple, Qui-Gon having lost or ruined so many of his robes and Obi-Wan’s rapid growth spurts gave him a sound knowledge of the corridors from his many visits.

“Can I help you find Obi-Wan?”

Qui-Gon sighed, “possibly. For now you need to focus on your own training. It will not be easy. You are at a disadvantage due to your age. Most Force sensitive younglings are brought to the Temple when they are still babes.” Qui-Gon could feel Anakin’s trepidation, “but I have faith in your capabilities. Trust in the Force Anakin. It will be a strange adjustment time for both of us but it will settle out eventually.”

They arrived at a door which slip open and a droid greeted them, “Master Jinn, back so soon? I thought I gave you new robes only the other day.”

“Hello Seamstress.” Qui-Gon ignored the droid’s jibe, “Anakin, this is Seamstress. She has been making Jedi robes for as long as anyone can remember.”

“Too long if you ask me.”

“Wizard!” Anakin’s eyes darted all over the droid, his mind surely breaking down every joint, circuit and panel inside it, “I’ve never seen a droid like you before.”

“I was designed specifically to clothe the Jedi.”

“I was making a protocol droid back on Tatooine, you remind me of him, I wish I could have brought him here. His name was C3PO. I didn’t get to finish him though, I couldn’t get the right panels for him. And I also had Artoo, he’s an astromech.”

The droid made a noise that sounded like the equivalent to laughter, “well I know who to go to if I need a rewiring. Climb up on the pedestal so I can measure you, once that’s done I will have your robes sent to your rooms, Master Qui-Gon.”

“Much appreciated Seamstress.”

Anakin stepped on to the raised platform and raised his hands to the side as Seamstress quickly scanned him and proceeded to take down his measurements. Once again Qui-Gon was taken back to Obi-Wan’s countless journeys down here as he grew up. Qui-Gon smiled when he recalled the boy’s robes flapping around his ankles, his cheeks coloured red when he realised he couldn’t tug them down any further and would need a replacement.

“All done. I will begin work on them right away.”

“Thanks Seamstress!” Anakin bounced off the dais and waved goodbye to the droid who mirrored him and turned its back to begin working on his robes, “what are we going to do now, Master?”

Qui-Gon could tell he liked saying that, “now we begin your training, young Padawan.” He said with a smile.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan screamed. His back was on fire. Maul laughed at his pain and brought the electrowhip down on his tattered back once again. Maul had been torturing Obi-Wan for hours now, blood covered his skin, Maul had made him strip to his leggings and took his clothes so Obi-Wan was left shivering in the cool cell. At first Obi-Wan had waited for Maul to interrogate him, but there didn’t seem to be any questions coming, the Sith was just doing it for fun. To hear the Jedi cry out in pain over and over. For days on end. Without sun or moonlight Obi-Wan had no measurement of time and Maul never let him sleep long, waking him at irregular hours to hurt him.

Each day was different; blades, whips, razor thin obsidian shards which could cause hairline cuts without drawing much blood but were incredibly painful, or sometimes Maul just used his fists wrapped in thick rope. The silence from the Sith was the worst part, there was no obvious reason other than sadism and Obi-Wan was never given enough time to formulate any questions of his own. At the end of the beatings Maul would leave Obi-Wan strung up by his wrists gasping for breath, trembling and, more often than not, sobbing.

The electrowhip sliced down again on his back, “if Qui-Gon had been faster, you wouldn’t be here.” Maul’s voice made Obi-Wan jump, the chains rattled, “if he had tried harder he could have beaten me and saved you from this.”

Obi-Wan knew Maul was trying to get in his head and hissed back, “you got a lucky shot.”

“Which time?”

Obi-Wan would have snarled but his energy had all but left him, his lip twitched in a grimace. The Sith laughed.

“He even had the chance to save you.” Maul switched off the whip and began wrapping it around his fist, “he just stood and watched me drag you away.”

“Stop it.” Obi-Wan coughed and spat out a glob of blood.

“Just watched, knowing you would suffer.” Maul lashed out striking his stomach, the tough material of the whip adding more strength to the punch.

“Liar.” Obi-Wan gasped, winded. He knew it was childish, but he wanted to cover his ears.

“So much for the unbreakable bond between Master and Apprentice.” Maul hit him again, this time in the side.

“Shut up.” Obi-Wan coughed and felt the place where his fist had impacted him begin to bruise already.

Maul sneered at him, “How long have you been here? Long enough for them to have sent out a ship to try and find you. But have we picked up anything on the scanners? No. They left you to rot. Left you to die.”

“You’re wrong. They haven’t left me.” Obi-Wan was starting to doubt this himself, how come no one had found him yet? His pain and fatigue muddled brain was far more open to suggestion than normal.

“I watched him you know.” Another punch. This time to his ribs, Obi-Wan felt a stabbing pain and knew at least two were cracked, “he made no effort to help you, just held on to the boy.”

“He made the smart choice” Obi-Wan wheezed, “he stopped you getting two Jedi.”

Maul backhanded him suddenly, thankfully the hand without the whip otherwise he would have blinded Obi-Wan, “he left you.”

“No, he didn’t,” Obi-Wan could feel the tender skin under his eye was torn and tasted blood in his mouth.

“He abandoned you for an untrained child.” Maul’s eyes danced in the gloom, glittering with malevolent joy.

“Stop manipulating the truth.” He spat more blood to the ground.

“Am I manipulating it? Or are you too afraid to see reality?”

Obi-Wan tried to release his pain to the Force as Maul hit him three times in rapid succession on his torso but the effect of Sith blade and pain still stopped him from reaching it. He hated Maul for what he’d put Obi-Wan through. Obi-Wan caught himself, “hate leads to suffering. There is no pain, there is only the Force.”

“Is that what they tell you Jedi? What a blinkered existence you must lead up in that fancy Temple of yours. Suffering is everywhere. And where is suffering there is pain. Hate and anger just makes it more manageable and gives you somewhere you can channel it.”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, his chest burned, and his brain was quickly fogging up. He felt dizzy. Despair threatened to crush him. He heard Maul move and suddenly the pressure from the shackles vanished and Obi-Wan crumpled to the floor. He cried out in pain as he saw Maul leave through the door and through his tear-filled eyes saw the light vanish. Only when he was alone did Obi-Wan finally give into the devastating hopelessness that suffocated him. He curled up on his side, too tired to move out of the puddle of his own blood on the cold steel floor. Sobs wracked his injured body.

Why had Qui-Gon not come for him yet? He must be looking. What if he wasn’t? He had Anakin now. He would come, he’s his master and he cared for Obi-Wan. But he was happy to lie to the Council and say Obi-Wan was ready for the Trials when only weeks before Qui-Gon had discussed it with him saying it would be at least a few more months, lying so he could train Anakin. A blossom of anger burst open in his heart but Obi-Wan was quick to stop it. He wasn’t angry, he was exhausted and the words from Maul were still raw in his head. He couldn’t properly release it but he breathed around the anger, trying to slow his quick, hitched gasps.

“He will come.” Obi-Wan whispered to himself in the lonely dark cell, his voice wet from the blood coating his mouth, “he has to come.” The despair returned with a vengeance, what would he do if Qui-Gon didn’t come? Obi-Wan felt he was close to his limit. Nothing could have prepared him for the emotional and physical tolls he had endured, “please master, I don’t know what to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut and once again attempted to reach for his bond with Qui-Gon only to be met by the same block, “I don’t know what to do.” He sobbed himself into unconsciousness, even in his sleep tears tracked down his blood-stained face.

~~~

The routine carried on for several days, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how long it had been. All he knew is that it went on forever to him. Maul would wake him up by dousing him in ice water throw a small amount of food at him, just enough to sustain him, then shortly afterwards he would be strung up again. For hours Maul would beat him, all the while taunting him. Maul chipped away at his resolve.

“He left you.”

“Shut up.”

“The Jedi have abandoned you to die and Qui-Gon did nothing to stop me.”

“Stop.”

“Qui-Gon chose him over you.”

“Don’t bring Anakin into this.” Obi-Wan knew he kriffed up the moment Anakin’s name left his lips, but his mind was slow from pain and exhaustion. Maul’s eyes lit up with glee

“Anakin.” He spoke like he was tasting it, “That’s the name of the boy Qui-Gon abandoned you for?”

“Stop it…Please.”

“I must be getting somewhere for you to be begging, Kenobi.” Maul tilted his head, arms crossed across his chest, “maybe you are starting to see my words for what they really are: the truth.”

“You’re a lying piece of bantha shit.” Obi-Wan felt the Sith knife wound in back flare up when he got angry.

“Bold words for a hypocrite.” Maul then reached down behind the crank to pick something up, “I have grown tired of little game here. I need to move things along a little faster. So this” he held up a piece of black leather. Obi-Wan recoiled. He could feel the material was potent with the Dark Side, “will help push us along nicely.”

“What is that?” Obi-Wan’s voice trembled. There was no point trying to hide his fear. His whole body was telling him to get as far away from that thing as quick as possible.

“This is a Sith Torture Mask. It is imbued with the Dark Side, even with your connection to the Force being disrupted by the Sith blade, this will stop your access to it almost completely.”

Obi-Wan began to struggle desperately against his restraints, he begged the Sith to stop, the chains clinked as he shifted. Fear overtook the pain of his injuries and he writhed around to stop Maul putting that hood over his face.

“Stop struggling.” At Mauls words Obi-Wan felt himself freeze, the Force wrapped tightly around him, and he could only watch as Maul pulled the Mask down over his head. The only openings were for his eyes and he stared at the Sith, pleading as he felt the Dark Side attack his brain. His thoughts instantly became a jumbled chaos. Any ability to touch the Force was stripped away from him leaving him floating in his head. Obi-Wan felt his eye roll wildly in his head at the utter disorientation. He was terrified. He could feel the Mask corrupting his head as he felt the unbridled fear wash through him without being able to stop it Obi-Wan suffocated on it. The Mask rubbed on his face, ill-fitting and rough. Obi-Wan’s throat was painful. Was he shouting?

He wasn’t sure.

He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

~~~

“Obi-Wan?” A voice he knew so well whispered in the dark, he slowly lifted his head from where it hung, “Ben?”

“Satine?” His speech was slurred. He blinked and saw Satine standing in the corner her arms hugged tight to her chest. When had she arrived? She looked worn down; her stained navy and turquoise dress seemed so out of place in the cell.

“Are you ok? You look awful.” She was still as endearingly blunt as ever but Obi-Wan’s heart clenched at her concern for him.

“Never better.” His weak attempt at sarcasm fell flat in the air.

“Where are we?” She looked around; her hair fell loose around her shoulders, not tied up in the formal Mandalorian she sported nowadays. It reminded Obi-Wan of his year on the run with her.

“I don’t know. When” he had to pause gather enough strength to talk, the Sith Mask made focusing nearly impossible, “When did you get here?” A fearful thought flashed sharp and clear in his head, “Has Maul done anything to you? Has he hurt you?”

“What do you mean? Who’s Maul? I’ve been here with you the whole time.” She looked worried, “Don’t you remember? The bounty hunters captured us.” She reached out to touch his cheek but pulled back at the last moment, “Oh, Obi-Wan what have they done to you?”

“Bounty hunters?” Obi-Wan was confused, “No, that was years ago. That…that was on Draboon.” The injuries on his back stretched painfully as he tried to shift his weight from his wrists to stand straighter even though his legs shook, “Satine.” He felt a spark of fear, “what’s going on?”

“Years ago? Ben you’re scaring me. They took us two days ago. You and I were in the canyon, we had just found the field of flowers, don’t you remember?”

“I…I don’t know.” Obi-Wan shook his head, “I can’t think straight.” He looked at Satine, at her proud figure, her beautiful face, her light blue eyes. Eyes which were dead and empty.

“Obi-Wan?” She tilted her head, the sightless milky eyes stared at him, “What’s wrong?”

A strangled noise came out of his throat and he backed away as far as he could.

“You look like you’ve seen those venom-mites again.” Dead Satine chuckled, her voice light and airy and completely emotionless, “Do you remember how you dropped me?”

“What have you done with Satine?”

She dropped her arms from her chest to show a whole in the centre of her frayed dress, “Maul killed me, Obi-Wan.”

“No” Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, “Satine.”

“You watched me die and you did nothing to stop him.”

“Stop it.”

“You murdered me, Obi-Wan!” her voice was an unnatural screech.

“NO!” Obi-Wan yelled, giving into the despair, “you’re not real. Satine isn’t dead. She’s alive.”

“You killed me, Ben.” Her dead glassy eyes bored into him, blaming him, “how could you let me die like that?”

Obi-Wan’s misery morphed into anger, the Mask on his face seemed to fit slightly better, “I don’t know what you are, but you are not Satine. My Satine is alive.”

The phantom in front of him grinned, “Don’t be so sure, the future you dread may come to pass.”

“The future is never set in stone.” Obi-Wan hissed, his body felt slightly tingly from the adrenaline that coursed through his veins, “What you’re telling me will not come to pass. I’ll make sure of that.” His rage grew as the phantom Satine narrowed its eyes, “Get out of my head.”

Obi-Wan blinked and he was alone. He realised how angry he still was. Seeing Satine’s dead eyes had made him want to fall apart. His fury dissolved and all his strength vanished, he sagged down ignoring how his shoulders protested the sudden weight again. The Sith Mask was back to being ill fitting and made his heaving sobs echo loud in his ears.

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” Obi-Wan whispered the teaching he had had drilled into him since he was a youngling. But what was he supposed to do when the Force had deserted him? Just like everyone else, a vicious voice hissed in his ear.

“Shut up.”

“Obi-Wan?” A different voice interrupted Obi-Wan’s tears. One of a young boy.

“Anakin.” His own voice sounded harsh to himself. He didn’t mean to feel so aggressive to the boy but the sight of dead Satine and Maul’s words seem to whirl round his head getting louder and louder, “What are you doing here?”

“Master Qui-Gon sent me. He wants to tell you that I will be replacing you.” Anakin’s voice was cheerily threatening.

“Shut up.” Obi-Wan flinched at Anakin’s happy voice, “Leave me alone.” He knew this was not Anakin.

“He said that now he’s got me as his Padawan he can make a real difference now.”

“Fuck you.” Obi-Wan spat.

“That’s not very Jedi.”

“I don’t feel very Jedi at the moment.” He truly didn’t. His normally calm and controlled emotions were raging like an ocean swept up in a wild storm. Without his access to the Force it kept on building and building; breathing around the tightness in his chest was getting progressively harder.

“Well, in that case, maybe you shouldn’t come back.” Anakin shrugged but his voice developed a second, lower, pitch now, “I’ve got Qui-Gon, and he really likes me, so who’s going to want you now?”

Even with the chains stopping him Obi-Wan struggled not to try and leap at the arrogant little crik, “You are not Anakin.”

“You still don’t like the real Anakin, do you? He took your master. Stole him right under your nose and you couldn’t do a single thing to stop it happening.” Like with Satine, Obi-Wan could see through the phantom’s façade now, “what would you do if you were face to face with the real Anakin? Would you attack him like you want to do now?”

Exhaustion from his raging emotions and battling the effects of Sith Mask had drained Obi-Wan, his shields had been destroyed. He was so vulnerable. He couldn’t summon the energy to answer the phantom.

“Well, you better start thinking of a way to get out of here, Obi-Wan, or you won’t leave here. Not alive at least.” Phantom Anakin faded out leaving no trace.

“I am one with the Force…and the Force…The Force.” The Force had abandoned him. Left him drowning in Darkness. It would be so easy to give in to it. So easy, “You are a Jedi, Kenobi. You will not Fall.”

Chapter Text

Anakin burst into the apartment, breathless, “Master!”

Qui-Gon quickly put down his teacup, already worried, “what’s the matter Anakin?”

“Kass is asking if I can go practice my Forms with her. Can I go?”

Qui-Gon leant heavily on the table, “I thought there was an emergency.”

“It kinda is. I need to know now. She’s waiting outside. Can I?”

“Hello Master Qui-Gon.” Kass, a young Zabrak, stuck her head around the door and waved.

“Hello Kass.” I’m getting too old for this he thought, “Anakin, you do not need my permission to do everything.” Qui-Gon knew that was a habit his Padawan was trying hard to break, after a life of little to no free will, adjusting to the sudden freedom was taking time, “but of course you may go.”

“Wizard! Thanks Master.” In a billow of his robes, he was gone again.

Anakin had been Qui-Gon’s Padawan for just nearly a month now. It had been slow going at first, a learning experience for both of them. Anakin had to strengthen his grasp of Basic, and then catch up to the rest of his creche-mates. He struggled with making friends, his unusual entrance into the Order, already being chosen by a Master, and his upbringing alienated him among his peers. Qui-Gon also had to remember how to handle a youngling; Anakin was Obi-Wan’s binary opposite. Whereas Obi-Wan had been quiet and often withdrawn, Anakin was always wanting to do something. His energy was sometimes difficult to keep up with. There had been many tantrums, born of frustration more than anything.

“I hate Galactic History.” Anakin had thrown his datapad across the table, “It’s stupid and it’s the past. Why do we bother to learn about stuff that’s already happened?”

Qui-Gon understood where his anger was coming from. A child’s fears are often centred around the thoughts of others and Anakin had arrived with such weight on his shoulders already. Being the Chosen One did not come without pressures, “Peace, young one.” Anakin’s emotions were always so strong, so unlike Obi-Wan who had mastered shielding from a very young age. Anakin practically shouted his feelings through the Force to anyone who was near him, “Be mindful of your emotions.”

“I am.” He had snapped.

“No, you are not. You are letting them control you.” Qui-Gon had pushed aside his own datapad, “come, let us try to meditate.”

Anakin had groaned at that.

Meditation was never his strength. He found it difficult to centre himself. Qui-Gon had found out, however, that if Anakin wore himself out by doing physical exercise, he was much more receptive to meditation afterwards. Hopefully after his session with Kass they might have a more successful venture into the Force.

Once again alone in his apartment Qui-Gon finished tidying away his tea things, he had a meeting with Yoda soon. Almost as soon as Anakin had officially been made a Padawan and started lessons, Qui-Gon had begun meeting with Yoda. Together they sunk into deep meditations to try and find Obi-Wan’s presence. At first, they had tried to contact his former Padawan but after that failed, they had moved on to trying to pinpoint his location. Each time they had got no further and Qui-Gon had to work hard not to let his frustration get the better of him, he had to trust in the Force; he would find Obi-Wan when he was meant to find him.

He just wished it was soon.

Plo Koon had had no luck either. If luck was a thing. His reconnaissance yielded no information. Qui-Gon had called on all his contacts asking them to tell him if he heard anything about a Jedi where they were. It was a waiting game. Qui-Gon hated it. He felt so useless and the lack of contact from Obi-Wan grated his nerves even more. He had been used to Obi-Wan shielding when he was his Padawan but Qui-Gon had still been able to sense him. Still been able to feel the warmth of his signature through their bond. Now it was cold and fraying from disuse.

Qui-Gon strode down the Temple’s hallway to Yoda’s quarters. Bright golden light filtered through the windows warming Qui-Gon’s face. No matter how wonderful it was to be able to train Anakin, how privileged he felt to raise the Chosen One, there was a cold part of him that swam with guilt over his missing former Padawan, lying about the Trails, not talking to Obi-Wan about taking on Anakin, leaving him on Theed. When Qui-Gin meditated on his own he made a conscious effort to siphon off these feelings, he knew he should not feed them nor hold on to them.

He knocked on Yoda’s door and heard the Master tell him to enter. Yoda’s quarters were humid. Green plants climbed the walls and mist hung heavy in the air and daylight streamed through a tall window giving the room a soft welcoming glow. The Living Force sung in here. Qui-Gon instantly felt more centred when he stepped through the doorway.

“Master Yoda.”

“Master Qui-Gon.” Yoda was already sitting on a chair, “Begin we should.”

Qui-Gon settled before the ancient master and closed his eyes. He felt Yoda’s powerful presence next to him as they sunk into a shared meditative state. Qui-Gon let the power of the Force course through him, relishing the peace if gave him. He felt Yoda begin to move away and Qui-Gon followed, each stretching out their presence to feel the familiar signature of Obi-Wan. However, what they encountered shocked even Yoda.

Normally Obi-Wan shone bright and strong in the Force; his energy Light and pure even when hidden behind his shields. Now what they found was a tangled mess of Obi-Wan’s Force signature. For several days there had been a shadow slowly growing like moss over his signature, but it had been faint. Now the Light was twisted and muted, but most worrying was the strength of the Darkness that enshrouded the boy. It hung around his signature like a wet cloak, sticking to it and clinging on. Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan struggling to break free, sometimes a thin tendril would escape only for it to be snuffed out by the Dark Side. Qui-Gon went to reach out for Obi-Wan but Yoda held him back and made him look harder. The dim Light that was Obi-Wan was moving in short bursts of energy, it was as though Obi-Wan was not even present in the Force anymore.

Qui-Gon could not take much more of this. He began to withdraw and Yoda follow. He opened his eyes to find they were wet. He cuffed away the tears and released a long slow breath.

“Troublesome this development is.” Yoda sounded concerned and thoughtful, “at war with himself Obi-Wan is. A battle between Light and Dark.”

“What has happened to his signature? Why was it so…still?”

Yoda sighed heavily and shifted in his seat, “unable to connect to the Force it seems Obi-Wan is.”

Oh Obi-Wan“I’ve never seen that…Darkness around someone like that.” Qui-Gon hated to think back to his Padawan’s suffering.

“Encountered a Sith before Naboo you had not.” Yoda lifted a finger, “much we still do not know.”

“You are right Master Yoda. But is there anything we can do for Obi-Wan?”

Yoda sighed, “clouded Obi-Wan’s future is. Approaching a crossroads I sense he is. Affect us all, his choice will.”

“He will choose the right one.” Qui-Gon’s voice was set in determination.

“Touched by the Dark Side Obi-Wan had been. The same boy you lost, he will not be.”

“I know what you are implying Master and it won’t happen.” Qui-Gon drew his eyebrows together slightly.

Yoda hummed, “much to think about, I have.”

“As do I. Thank you for your time, Master.” Qui-Gon rose to leave.

“Young Skywalker. Progressing in his training, is he?”

Qui-Gon stopped by the door, “he is doing well. The hindrance of his late arrival is fading by the day and he quickly is catching up. His skill with a lightsaber is notable and his prior knowledge of mechanics gives him an advantage in the more mathematical side of his studies. He still struggles with the finer details of Basic; historical and language-based lessons are his weakness.”

“And his meditation? Strong and turbulent the boy’s emotions are.”

“I will admit, he continues to struggle with his feelings. He does not find it easy to release them into the Force and meditation sometimes eludes him. However, his shielding has improved.”

“Hm.” Yoda nodded slowly then turned back to face forwards and closed his eyes, dismissing Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon let the Force guide his feet, he did not know where he needed to be, but the Force often did. As he walked, he cast his mind to Obi-Wan’s troublesome signature. After seeing him in such a perilous situation the urgency Qui-Gon felt to find him multiplied in his chest. Even though he assured Yoda that Obi-Wan would not Fall, Qui-Gon was now less sure. He knew Obi-Wan would not voluntarily do it but Qui-Gon had no idea what his Padawan was going through. No clue of the torment and anguish he was being subjected to. Everyone had a limit and he knew that Obi-Wan’s weaknesses, his anxieties, his self-doubt would be prime targets for the Sith to manipulate and feed upon.

The air around Qui-Gon changed. It was full of life. He looked around and saw he had walked to the gardens. Qui-Gon smiled to himself, the Force always knew where he needed to be. Here he could recentre himself better. The lush grass and plants welcomed him, Qui-Gon followed the path that wove through the space, deep into the greenery. Finally, he came to his favourite alcove and sat on the soft ground. His thoughts turned back to his missing apprentice.

Qui-Gon had worked hard with Obi-Wan to try and help him quell these feelings that clung to his Padawan, but no matter the progress they made Obi-Wan still hid things from him, still held his shields up tight, still let his insecurities overwhelm him. Qui-Gon sighed. His own mind and emotions were unsettled after his meeting Yoda. He closed his eyes and sunk into a light meditation. Releasing his own fears into the Force he felt himself finally relax as the Force flowed through him and allowed himself to enjoy this moment. Made himself impossibly present. Finally he felt some semblance of peace.

He was quietly embracing the Force when he felt a huge disturbance. He reached out to find the source and realised it was pouring from his bond with Obi-Wan. Pain. Grief. Hurt. Anger. Confusion. Qui-Gon gagged at his Padawan’s overwhelming emotions as he felt them pass through himself. He threw them back into the Force and turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. But as quickly as the ocean of emotion had come is was blocked. His shields were back up. Qui-Gon searched for a break in them but found nothing. He cursed and stood back to try and see through them, tried to see his Padawan. Like in his meditation with Yoda, Obi-Wan’s Light signature was intertwined with Darkness. It weaved in and out of the delicate and intricate web that was Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon released his frustration into the Force and stood up. He needed to find Master Yoda, although he was sure the ancient Master would have undoubtably felt the disturbance too.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan’s head hung down, the weight of the Sith Mask pulled him down and into the depths of his very soul. He scrunched his eyes shut searching for a thought he could focus on and keep. He had been so disconnected for so long it was a struggle to even find a simple one.

Qui-Gon’s tea. Obi-Wan grasped to that. The smell of the leaves. The thought started to drift. No. Obi-Wan clamped down on it, he felt sick though there was nothing in his stomach. The tea. Focus on the tea. What…what did it feel like? Hot. Hot tea. Obi-Wan was trembling from the force of his frail focus. Hot tea. Herbal. The smell of one of the teas made his nose tingle. The Sith Mask fought his mind trying to pull him away from the trail of tea. Hot tea. Come on Kenobi. Hot tea. Kriff he was going crazy, he couldn’t even think about…what had he been thinking about? A feeling. Hot. Tea. Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon. Despair crushed Obi-Wan’s lungs. The Dark Side hungrily fed on his sadness. Obi-Wan had failed him, he was weak. He should never have been a Padawan. Shouldn’t have been a Jedi. Weak. Pathetic. Useless. Qui-Gon should have let Obi-Wan blow himself up on Bandomeer. A part of Obi-Wan was shocked to realise he was thinking coherent thoughts, another part understood the Dark Side was pushing him to spiral down this route. Encouraged him to fall into the negative feeling which the Dark Side gobbled up and strengthened itself on, tightening its grip on Obi-Wan’s mind. He didn’t care. Obi-Wan should have died long ago, at least he would have done something good. He hadn’t even been a good Jedi; he felt too much, got attached to easily, like with Satine. Oh Satine, his heart ached for her. The real her. You were never good enough for her, she saw your failings, your weakness. She didn’t love you, she pitied you. Just like Qui-Gon. He only made you a Padawan out of circumstance. Even that was a push for the truth. Obi-Wan knew his master had not wanted him. Not truly. He still loved Xanatos. And that pain didn’t allow Qui-Gon to love Obi-Wan. Not that he deserved his love anyway. A pathetic excuse for a Jedi.

Obi-Wan was too tired to cry. Too tired to stop his racing thoughts. The Sith Mask seemed to suffocate him even more. The Dark Side clogged his throat making him gag. He felt his Padawan braid on his shoulder, the length of it showing how long Qui-Gon had to endure his company. Self-loathing ran riot in Obi-Wan’s mind. He didn’t deserve to call himself a Padawan anymore. Not now that Anakin was there. What was Obi-Wan to the Chosen One? Nothing. Just a jumped up meant-to-have-been fucking farmer boy. Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon had been looking for a reason to get rid of him. To free himself of the useless weight that was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Jedi fuck up. Below average on every front. Waste of space. Pathetic. Useless.

He gave you away.

Obi-Wan’s head jerked gently to the side, that wasn’t his thought. Was it? He didn’t know. He knew nothing. What had he been thinking about? He didn’t know. Once again his brain was scrambled by the mask keeping his thoughts nowhere, no past no present not future. He existed nowhere but physically. His brain an indescribable mess.

“Look at yourself, Obi-Wan.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan, with terrible effort, lifted his head to see his master standing in front of him, hands tucked into his sleeves.

“How could you let yourself be taken? You should have fought harder, if you were a better Jedi you could have resisted.”

Obi-Wan felt slow and stupid, “no…I…I did…”

“You did nothing but fumble for your lightsaber. You could have stopped me getting injured if you weren’t so slow.” Venom dripped from his Master’s words.

“No master…I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan felt so weak, his shoulders and neck trembled from the effort of keeping his head raised.

Qui-Gon’s voice was vicious, “Even after all the years, all the hours, all the patience I put into you…you still disappoint me.” His master’s eyes were flints of rock.

“I tried–”

“There is no try, Padawan” Qui-Gon spat the last word, his face contorting with disgust, “didn’t you listen to a thing I taught you?”

A flush of anger went through Obi-Wan his head cleared fractionally, “I did.”

“Really?” Qui-Gon’s voice was scathing, “at least this time I’ll have a Padawan who is grateful for my teachings and isn’t a selfish child.”

“I gave you everything.” Obi-Wan whispered, his mind sharpened as he let the anger crash through him in waves, “I gave you all I had, every kriffing day of my stupid life.” His voice raised to a shout, “and where did that get me? Huh? A master who cast me aide after meeting a slave boy, who you claimed is the Chosen One” loathing saturated his words, “oh forgive me master for not being the Chosen One, for not learning how to be an emotionless prick as fast as you did. I should have left you far earlier than Melida/Daan. I should have realised what an insufferable man you truly are.” He felt good, he couldn’t remember the last time he had let go, if he ever had, the mask on his face seemed to fit his face perfectly now, like a second skin, he felt powerful, “All those times I would have willingly died to save you, I was a child and you expected more than I could ever give. Nothing I did was ever good enough for the great Qui-Gon Jinn.” He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, it was like his anger had taken him over, he was just along for the ride, “at least I know the meaning of being faithful, I would never drop someone to climb the ladder of power like you did. Nose always stuck in some old dusty book reading about prophesies written millennia ago hoping they will come true, and when you tasted that power in Skywalker you couldn’t wait to lap it up could you. You couldn’t wait to cast aside anything that would hold you back could you? No. You threw me out like I didn’t matter. To you I guess I don’t matter anymore now that you have the Chosen One in your grasp. I pity the boy really having to put up with you for the rest of his life. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hoarse, he wasn’t even sure if he could see Qui-Gon anymore, “You selfish fucker always thought yourself so high and mighty, you never once stopped to think about me did you? At least you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I never did manage to teach you how to stop being so emotional. Too stubborn for that.” Obi-Wan’s scream of rage cut through Qui-Gon’s scathing comment. Obi-Wan let all his fury and pain, breach the flimsy walls of his broken heart and mind and with his bellow felt the walls shake with his power, felt the durasteel crunch as is bent to his furious, terrible will.

As quickly as the air left his lungs, his fight vanished. Gone was his strength, instead he felt like a dried-out leaf high winds, brittle and about to snap with a gust of air a fraction too strong. Obi-Wan slumped down, the shackles biting deep into his wrists. He didn’t care. He couldn’t feel it. He was hollow and scraped out.

Maul’s soft voice cut through the cool air of the dark cell, “My my. How far the perfect Padawan has fallen.”

~~~

A period of time and countless horrific phantoms later Obi-Wan saw light break through his half closed eyes. The blurry figure of Maul stepped silently into the cell. Obi-Wan saw him reach to his hip and one red blade burst from his lightsaber hilt.

“Are you here to kill me?” Obi-Wan’s voice grated in his throat. He wanted to die. Wanted a release from this endless cycle of torture.

Instead of replying Maul sliced through the chains around his wrists and Obi-Wan fell to the floor with a gasp as his weakened body crumpled beneath him. Obi-Wan felt Maul’s hand grip his shoulder and pulled him into a sitting position, then the hand went to his head and suddenly he could breathe again. He reached a shaking hand up to his face, the Sith Mask was gone.

“It’ll hurt.” Maul stepped back against the wall.

Obi-Wan was about to ask what he meant when he felt his head explode in agony. The Force. He’d been cut off before but not for so long. The impact from his reconnection shoved him back to the floor, gasping and retching. It was overwhelming and overstimulating. For a minute he was incapacitated.

Finally he heaved his eyes open, his body was trembling. He expected to feel whole again, to feel the warm embrace of the Force he had known his entire life, but it was wrong. It wasn’t his pure Force he was greeted with when Obi-Wan reached out to explore it. Instead, the Force felt corrupted and polluted. Dark.

He had used the Dark Side willingly when he had yelled at the phantom Qui-Gon. He was tainted. Obi-Wan threw up his shields. He felt slightly better knowing Maul couldn’t see through them, see the shame and horror at himself that swelled within him. They were not as solid as he’d like but he could slowly strengthen them in time. If he had time.

A lightsaber dropped in front of him making him start. It was his lightsaber.

“Pick it up and follow me.” Maul left the cell, his footsteps soft.

Obi-Wan went to pick up his lightsaber but the Force shifted in him, the oily feeling made him pause. He shouldn’t use this, this lightsaber was made with Light and Obi-Wan didn’t feel like the boy who made that lightsaber anymore. Would it still recognise him? He gritted his teeth and grabbed it. Instantly Obi-Wan felt more balanced. The comfortable weight and shape in his hand grounded him.

“Hurry up.” Maul snapped from outside the cell. Obi-Wan clambered to his feet, it took him a second to remember he could use the Force and gently allowed it to flow through him. Like an unused muscle his connection felt stiff, but he felt better when he did, the stab wound on his back was mostly healed but Obi-Wan could feel the twisted Force stopping the Light flowing through it. He grimaced at the pain it caused him and jogged to catch up to Maul who was already halfway down the corridor. Unlike in his cell, lights illuminated the white walls and floor. Fresh air filled his lungs and Obi-Wan felt more alive each second.

“Why did you give me my lightsaber? I could kill you.” Obi-Wan’s thumb twitched.

“What an inflated ego you have to think you could kill me so easily.” Maul didn’t bother to look at him and just kept walking, “You are on an unknown planet; your body is weak; and you did not best me on Naboo. You do not know if the atmosphere outside is breathable, you have no transportation off here. Need I continue?”

Obi-Wan grunted in response. Maul was right. There were too many variables. He was also intrigued as to why Maul had kept him alive and had inexplicably freed him. For now he would follow the Sith. The Zabrak opened a door and revealed they had come to a dojo. It was huge, the ceiling was high and flat, the walls were made of duresteel and reflected dully in the harsh light. The floor was covered in traditional matting.

Maul had carried on to the centre of the mat, he turned back to look at Obi-Wan who waited by the door, “come here.”

“Why?”

An invisible chokehold crushed Obi-Wan’s neck, “because I asked nicely.” The pressure vanished and Obi-Wan stumbled to the side coughing. Rubbing his neck, he walked to join Maul on the mat. The slight cushioning below his feet was comforting, it reminded him of the Padawan’s dojo and the countless hours he’d spent there.

“What are we doing, Maul?”

“We are going to spar, Kenobi. Surely that much is clear.” Maul ignited his blade and swung it above his head, halting when it was horizontal and brought his empty arm down in front of his body, Juyo’s opening stance. The crimson light fell down Maul’s face casting heavy shadows.

“Yes, but the reason why still eludes me.” Obi-Wan copied the Sith but dropped into his recently preferred Soresu stance, lightsaber overhead but pointing at his opponent and free arm mirroring, the familiar hum of his blade sang in his conflicted heart.

“All will reveal itself in time.” Maul moved incredibly fast; it was only that Obi-Wan’s instincts took over did he manage to deflect the blow aimed at his head.

Maul rolled out of the manoeuvre and instantly slashed down at his legs. Obi-Wan leapt back and brought his lightsaber up in a defensive stance. Maul didn’t wait and savagely attacked with three quick blows, Obi-Wan was barely keeping up, he could feel the strength of the hits in his shoulders. They had only just started and he was already tiring. Maul pressed on with more strikes and Obi-Wan parried. Right shoulder, twist down to defend his left leg, arch back to avoid the swipe at his chest and down into a roll to put space between him and the Sith. Maul somersaulted to where Obi-Wan stopped making him scramble away, he threw up a sloppy defence as Maul slashed down to strike his unprotected back.

“I expected better from you, Kenobi.” Maul taunted as he kicked out with his foot, which connected with Obi-Wan’s ribs.

Obi-Wan sucked in shaky breaths as he backed off trying to recentre himself but his mind was erratic, the conflict in the Force was throwing him off balance. He wanted to call upon it but he knew that he would not be able to control if he used the Dark Side or the Light at this moment.

Maul sensed his indecision and attacked with renewed strength, his red blade flashed as he began a series of quick savage blows. Obi-Wan had no time to think of any retaliation of his own so intense were Maul’s strikes, Obi-Wan twisted and kept his lightsaber close to his body, the weeks of inaction took its toll on his skills. The Sith went to hit Obi-Wan’s arm but at the last second twirled his lightsaber and struck Obi-Wan on his thigh, burning him. Obi-Wan cried out and dropped to the floor, cursing. He might have been reminded of the Temple’s dojo but there they used training lightsabers and if you got hit it was nothing but a minor shock. This was not the Temple. These were not training lightsabers. That was not minor.

Obi-Wan saw Maul coming back for another round and knew there was no other option. He could die if he let his wounds slow him down even further and he could sense Maul’s fury and how much power it gave him. In this fight he would have to heavily focus on the defensive, he hoped just to survive rather than make an attempt to retaliate. Bringing up all his knowledge of Soresu, Obi-Wan let the Force flow through his body. Instantly it was as though time he slowed. He could see where Maul was going to hit, could sense before he happened where he needed to move his lightsaber. Obi-Wan let the Force guide him. The thrill of being connected to the Force once again made him grin.

He and Maul fought as if locked in a dance. Maul’s quick and disconnected movements were near impossible to predict but Obi-Wan let the Force guide him and his lightsaber. Suddenly he spotted an opening, Maul being wrapped up in his rage had leapt for a slash that could decapitate Obi-Wan but in doing so had exposed his torso and lower body. Obi-Wan dropped his shoulders, stepped out and low bringing his lightsaber upwards, but Maul twisted out of the way at the last second. Rather than slicing through Maul’s side Obi-Wan’s blue blade hissed as it cut through his tunic instead.

“Getting sloppy, Maul.” Obi-Wan grinned when the Sith hissed as he saw the near hit. He used Maul’s anger to spur Obi-Wan into his own attack, his heart was racing from the delight of the fight. He whirled his lightsaber as he stepped forwards in a spin, his blade connected to Maul’s who looked surprised at the change in Obi-Wan’s tactics. Before Maul could react Obi-Wan had somersaulted over Maul a long slash aimed at the Sith’s arm was deflected but once again Obi-Wan moved fast. Once he landed he Force Pushed Maul who flew backwards and Obi-Wan performed an arial cartwheel to create even more space. His enjoyment of the fight was becoming more aggressive but he liked the power the Force gave him which he had so dearly missed.

Maul gave a short sharp shout and dashed forwards, when he went to hit high Obi-Wan saw him pull the blow back and suddenly the blade swung backwards and Maul thrust the butt of the hilt on this cheekbone but Obi-Wan took the force of the punch and let himself roll out of it. Using that momentum and his new aggression he summoned the Force to amplify his next shot. He moved faster than he ever had before, his blade became a blur of blue as he stepped behind, spun round and brought his lightsaber down at Maul’s neck, intent of severing his head from his shoulders. Maul manged to shove his lightsaber up in time so they were locked in position. Red eyes met blue. Maul grinned.

“Good. Use it.”

Obi-Wan blinked and realised with dreadful clarity that he was channelling the Dark Side once again through his rage. He instantly blocked out the Force feeding his strength and fell to the floor. His lightsaber rolled away.

“Why do you run away from power?”

“I am a Jedi. I will never use the Dark Side.” Obi-Wan felt suddenly exhausted. After the rush of the Force he felt empty and drained.

Maul scoffed, “You fear what you cannot understand.”

“There is no fear. We Jedi are not driven by power, unlike you Sith.”

“You say Jedi like you still one of them.” Maul tilted his head, his eyes mocking.

“I am.”

“Even after succumbing to the draw of the Dark Side twice now? Do you think they would welcome you back?” Obi-Wan didn’t answer. Maul was right. Could he still call himself a Jedi? His identity was falling apart in front of his eyes, “Why hold onto their rules when you do not even believe them anymore?”

“Don’t tell me what I believe in.” Obi-Wan snarled and stood up, “you know nothing of my opinions.”

“Au contraire, Kenobi.” Maul deactivated his lightsaber while summoning Obi-Wan’s from across the room. Obi-Wan flinched, seeing the Sith holding his felt wrong and made him miss the grounding feeling of it in his hand, “I know how you have always questioned your own validity of being Qui-Gon’s apprentice, how you were overlooked by countless Master’s before being eventually chosen. I know how you never truly believed yourself worthy. Maybe you knew all along there was something different about you…something dark…something angry.”

Obi-Wan’s breaths caught in his lungs and he felt his stomach tighten, Maul’s words were cutting deep into his deepest fears and the Sith knew it. He couldn’t show weakness, not now, then Maul would know he’d won, “Do all Sith talk in monologues? Or am I just unfortunate to have been kidnapped by one prone to such speeches?”

Maul narrowed his eye but did not say anything. He turned on his heel and walked to the door of the dojo, “follow me.”

Obi-Wan, not wanting to experience another Force choke, did so, albeit walking slower than his normal pace. It was petty but petty was all he had right now. Maul led him down a different corridor, Obi-Wan had presumed he was going back to his cell. Apparently not. Instead, Maul stopped outside one of the many identical white doors, “Get inside.”

Obi-Wan’s new cell had a bed and a small ‘fresher attached to it. It was small but a massive step up from the previous dark cell, this cell had a light in it, “What’s the reason for this upgrade?” Obi-Wan looked back at Maul who was standing in the hallway, arms crossed.

“That cell wasn’t fit for a womp rat to live in.”

Obi-Wan chuckled darkly, “glad to see you have grown a conscience.”

“You should shower. You smell awful.” Maul pressed a button on the outside of the door which slid shut. At least this cell didn’t have chains hanging from the ceiling.

Chapter Text

It had been difficult for Qui-Gon to pack up Obi-Wan’s things. It had not taken him long. The boy was always so neat and was not one to keep odd bits and pieces like Qui-Gon was prone to doing. His room was always clean. Qui-Gon had made a point to carefully study each item he packed into the box: a small knife Obi-Wan had kept from his time on Melida/Daan; a very worn out stuffed tooka toy from his days in the creche; a varactyl feather from the beast he enjoyed riding so much on Pijal; a picture of Obi-Wan and his friends, his arms draped around Bant and Garen, Quinlan Vos, Siri Tachi, and Luminara Unduli were knelt in front of them, they were all laughing at some unheard joke; the Riverstone Qui-Gon had gifted Obi-Wan on his thirteenth birthday, it still was warm with the pulse of the Force. It had not taken Qui-Gon long to finish packing. All that was his Padawan fit in a box. It seemed cruel that this was all he had to show for his time as Obi-Wan’s master. A few lost items that held no real meaning to anyone other than Obi-Wan. He tucked the box under his arm, picked up Obi-Wan’s old robes and went back into his own room. He had slung the clothes over his wardrobe door then slid the little box under the cabinet by his bed.

“Master can you help me with this please?” Anakin had knocked on his door.

“I will be one moment, Anakin.” Qui-Gon had brushed his fingers over the fabric of Obi-Wan’s robes. He could not dwell on Obi-Wan. He would search for him, but Anakin required his immediate attention, he needed training. He would not be able to reach his full potential as the Chosen One if his master’s attention was on his previous Padawan.

As quickly as Qui-Gon had emptied the Padawan’s room Anakin managed to fill it up. Droid parts, drawings, and clothes were always strewn across the floor. No matter how often Anakin ‘cleaned’ it, seconds later the mess was creeping back. As long as it did not encroach on the common area Qui-Gon had learnt not to bother much about it.

~~~

Over the last several weeks Anakin had been frustrated at how slow things with Obi-Wan were going. Surely they must be close to finding him? They were Jedi. They can do anything. Every time he asked Qui-Gon about it, his Master either said some dry statement about how the Force will guide them or diverted his attention to his schoolwork or asked about his latest mechanical instrument Anakin had acquired. Honestly Anakin thought the Force could do with hurrying things up a lot. He’d seen how quickly strong people had broken when he lived on Tatooine, and that was just regular slave owners. Not a Sith.

In his lessons with Master Shaak Ti they had been learning about Force bonds. It had been strange at first for Anakin to adjust to having a constant connection with Qui-Gon but he learnt how to shield his thoughts quickly. Since he was the only youngling in this clan to have been taken as a Padawan he was the only one to understand a Master-Padawan bond and even that was a very basic understanding. However, his other crechemates had a firmer grasp on friendship bonds which he was still trying to gather and strengthen. Master Ti had said that after even a short meeting with a stranger they would leave an imprint. Only a faint one but over time and exposure it would strengthen. Anakin had been very curious about that. He and Obi-Wan had spent some time together and their minds had touched a couple time as well, which according to Anakin’s theory, meant that he should have a bond with Obi-Wan.

Anakin tip toed to his door and pressed his ear against the panel to try and hear what Qui-Gon was doing. From the gentle clatter in the kitchen area Anakin guessed he was clearing up from dinner. This was the best time to do it, after dinner Qui-Gon always had a cup to tea and meditated while Anakin usually tinkered or stared at his homework. Anakin sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. He had been practicing his mediation and was now grateful for Qui-Gon’s extra effort. Most of the time Anakin couldn’t keep his mind still enough to sink into the Force. This time he had purpose.

Anakin let the Ford ebb and flow through and around him, he slowed his breathing and relaxed his muscles. Gradually he began to stretch out in the Force, his control during these exercises had been less that finessed but he was able to move around just fine. He still had a habit of coming at someone’s signature too strong. Anakin saw Qui-Gon’s peaceful signature and made sure to give it space, he didn’t want his Master snooping in on what he was doing. Anakin thought back to Master Ti’s lesson and how people left imprints, Anakin thought back to how Obi-Wan’s mind had felt at Theed: scared, hurting, kind, guarded, and caring. Drawing on the memory of the sensation when Obi-Wan had contacted his mind, Anakin began searching for it. He had never been this deep in the Force alone, but he wasn’t afraid. He felt he was doing something right.

Finally Anakin felt something click. He had found him. Their link was fragile and brittle. After such a short time of being in contact and so long not being near each other Anakin had to be very careful. He slowly stretched out across it and eventually came across Obi-Wan. But he was different. For a moment Anakin thought he found the wrong person. This signature wasn’t bright like Obi-Wan’s instead it was flecked with darkness. Tendrils rose and fell like waves on an ocean, woven into the fabric of the signature itself. Anakin pulled back for a moment, should he do this? What if Obi-Wan was possessed. Could Sith do that? He had to try. But Anakin found himself blocked by some shields. They were not as strong as Obi-Wan’s old ones, hence why he could see through but they still hindered his approach, Anakin wasn’t going to let that stop him. He pushed. Hard. At once Obi-Wan’s signature lit up and the shields doubled in strength making Anakin start to lose sight of him.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin called out down the thin bond, hoping he heard him.

The signature seemed to pause, “Anakin?” A cautious curiosity inched down the bond.

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Qui-Gon and me want to come find–”

“Get out.” Obi-Wan seemed to freeze over, instantly Anakin felt himself being pushed out the connection, no matter how much he tried to keep hold Obi-Wan drove him out. Darkness swirled around Anakin and he cried out in fear, great rolling waves of the Dark Side swarmed from Obi-Wan whose signature too had filled up with more of the Dark tendrils, thickening until they almost dominated the Light. Anakin couldn’t hold on any longer and he let go pulling himself back to his own mind. He felt a snap. Something was missing, he reached back to Obi-Wan and found only emptiness. Their little bond was gone, as though it had never existed at all.

Anakin heaved himself out of the Force gasping for air and started to cry. The missing bond made his head and energy feel wrong. It felt like Obi-Wan should have been someone who would always be in his life. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a friend but his absence felt massive. He leapt from his bed and dashed out the door to Qui-Gon who started when he saw Anakin running at him and threw himself at his Master who wrapped him in a warm comforting hug.

“Whatever is the matter, Padawan mine?” Qui-Gon sounded worried.

Guilt and shame filled Anakin’s chest, he had gone behind his Master’s back and probably done something very dangerous, “nothing.” He mumbled into Qui-Gon’s soft sleep clothes, his breaths were hitched in his chest.

“Anakin, you just ran in here looking terrified and you are crying. There is something wrong.” Quin-Gon crouched down so he was at Anakin’s eye level.

Anakin pulled away from Qui-Gon and rubbed his eyes dry, “I did something stupid.”

“Could you tell me?” Qui-Gon asked gently and wiped the tears from his cheek. Anakin leant into the soft touch, needing his steady presence right now. Qui-Gon sent a comforting wave down their bond.

Anakin bit his lip, “I contacted Obi-Wan.”

Qui-Gon looked puzzled, “I don’t understand.”

“Through the Force.”

“That’s impossible, it would require a bond for starters–”

“Master Ti said that everyone leaves a mark after you’ve met them, so I figured after I’d been around Obi-Wan we’d have one. I was right so I contacted him through the Force.”

“No, Anakin I don’t think you quite understand.” Qui-Gon tilted his head so Anakin, who was trying to hide from his gaze, could look into his eyes, “That amount of power it requires to reach someone so far away, Yoda and myself go on shared meditations to find him as it is so taxing.”

“But I did it.” Qui-Gon never looked shocked he always seemed to have the same calm expression on his face, but at Anakin’s words he was unable to mask his surprise now, “I spoke to him.”

His Master sat up straighter, his eyes alight, “what did he say?”

“He asked if it was me and then when I said it was I said how we wanted to find him so he should tell us where he is but then…” Anakin trailed off unsure how to continue.

“What happened?”

“It was horrible. Obi-Wan was different. Darker. When I said that he got angry and he pushed me away and then when I was back in my head our bond was gone.”

“He severed it?” When Anakin nodded Qui-Gon paused then continued, “he was probably doing it to protect you from the Sith. If the Sith found out you and he were talking, it could put everyone at risk, especially you.”

“What if he was protecting me from himself?”

Qui-Gon looked sad, “I fear that may also be the case. The longer it takes to find him, the more I worry the Obi-Wan we knew is fading.” His Master’s voice sounded close to breaking, even through his shields Anakin could feel his Master’s pain.

The two Jedi were silent for a while, each wrapped up in their own minds. Ten minutes ago Anakin would have though it impossible for Obi-Wan to even consider Falling but his confidence had been shaken. The memory of the swelling Darkness made him shudder.

“I’m sorry I went behind your back, Master.” He looked up at Qui-Gon, his hands tightly knotted together.

Qui-Gon laid his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, “while I think what you did was incredibly reckless and done with little thought for your own safety, you did what you thought was right. Just promise me, no more attempts to do that kind of meditation on your own.”

“Yes Master.”

“Good, you should get some rest. You will find your mind is tired after that.”

Anakin stood up, “goodnight Qui-Gon.”

“Goodnight, Anakin.”

~~~

Qui-Gon had made a habit recently to take time before he went to bed to sit by the tall window and watch the cyclone of vehicles swirl around the Coruscant sky. While he preferred nature he could still enjoy the vivid lights and hum of energy that hung in the atmosphere. Here he would let his mind drift and follow the lazy flow of his mental wanderings. Sometimes he was taken back to places, all the countless planets he had visited in his time in the Order, forgotten journeys with Dooku and recent trips with Obi-Wan; other times people, Tahl often came to him. He had never forgotten her beautiful golden and green eyes, smile and quick wit. Force he missed her. He knew he should not hold on to such attachments, but it still hurts to lose someone you care about so deeply. And now he had to suffer once again.

Qui-Gon thought back to Anakin. Every day that boy stunned Qui-Gon. His power and connection to the Force was staggering. Qui-Gon knew his new Padawan would overtake him in the near future. But Qui-Gon would always be his Master and would always be there to guide him. That was a Master’s duty. And yet he had been so quick to pass on Obi-Wan. No matter how many times he now told himself that he felt Anakin’s training was paramount and needed to begin instantly, and how he had tried to convince himself that Obi-Wan was ready for the Trials, he could never shake off the terrible hollow feeling that accompanied it. For he knew in his heart that he had been lying. So desperate to fulfil the prophesy, that he had been blinded by it. He was a foolish and selfish old man.

Yet Qui-Gon could not put aside the fact that Anakin had reached Obi-Wan. It took some Jedi years to be able to confidently search long-distance for Force sensitives. It was not even like they had had a strong bond, he had managed it only with the most tenuous of connections. While Qui-Gon felt guilt about how he came to Anakin his Padawan, there was no doubt in his mind about him being the Chosen One.

Unlike with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin got on instantly. They might have their differences, but they clicked like a Master-Padawan relationship should do. There was none of the awkward miscommunication and misunderstanding that had perpetuated his relationship with Obi-Wan. Anakin was direct with his thoughts and, like himself, was happy to bend the rules, though maybe sometimes more than it was to Qui-Gon’s liking. There was a fine line between bending the rules and completely disregarding them. A difference Anakin had yet to learn. Obi-Wan had been such a stickler for the rules and it had taken him a long time to understand the value of knowing when to push the boundaries and when to play along. Anakin too had a general distrust if the Council, most likely from his sudden introduction and the suspicion that surrounded him. But it was the polar opposite to Obi-Wan who had worshipped the Council’s words, something that often irritated Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon sighed as he stared out the window, his hands folded in his lap. He thought about reaching out to Obi-Wan, while he could do it by himself, he feared for what he would find. He could not afford to lose his bond with him, it was their strongest lead to him right now. No matter how frustrating it was at the glacial progress there were making there was no way Qui-Gon would risk losing the one string they had connecting him to his lost Padawan.

He pulled out his comlink and called Plo Koon. The Kel Dor answered almost instantly, “Master Qui-Gon.”

“Master Plo, how are you?”

“Still searching, I’m afraid.”

Qui-Gon felt his heart sink even lower, “Nothing at all?”

Plo shook his head, “I’ve just been on Nal Hutta. No one had heard of anything about a kidnapped Jedi. I even searched the black market for a lightsaber or the rumour of one. There’s nothing. It’s like he’s just vanished.” He paused, “We might have to start considering that fact that Obi-Wan might not…” he trailed off. Neither man wanted to finish the sentence.

Qui-Gon found his eyes started to mist over, “A little longer, Plo. It’s all I ask. I know he’s alive.”

Plo nodded, “I don’t want to entertain that thought either, but I fear we might be chasing a ghost soon. I am getting pressure from the Council to return to the Temple. With no new information for so long they are requesting I halt my investigations. However, I will carry on my search for another two weeks. In nothing comes up by then I will have to return to Coruscant.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you had any success in your meditations with Master Yoda?”

“It has been nearly as fruitless as yours, I’m afraid.” Qui-Gon ran his hand through his trimmed beard and tugged at it.

“What have you gathered from them?”

“We have had trouble reaching out to him. But the other day I was meditating and I felt a surge in the Force. It was Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon hid his concern and kept his normal calm expression.

“I thought you’d said he seemed to have been unable to connect with the Force?”

“He was, but something must have changed.” He ran a weary hand over his face, “He’s changed, Plo. He’s not the same.”

“How so?”

Qui-Gon shook his head, “I’ve seen what the Dark Side can do to someone. I watched as Xanatos Fell. I don’t know if I can stand to know it happened a second time but knowing I couldn’t help try to stop it…”

“You cannot blame yourself, Qui-Gon.”

“I can’t not blame myself. I should have fought better. I should have tried to stop Maul.”

“There is no point fixating on the past. Focus on the present.” Plo warned.

“But not at the expense of the moment.” Qui-Gon finished.

“Life does not treat you fairly or unfairly.”

“It merely is.” Qui-Gon frowned, “Don’t recite my own teachings to me, Plo.”

“But they are needed right now.”

Qui-Gon felt his shoulders droop, “I’m just worried about Obi-Wan.”

“I know you are. But to help him you must move past whatever choices you made. If you only focus on the past you cannot help the future.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.” Behind his mask Plo smiled, “I will report back to you in two weeks. I hope I find something.”

“I hope so too, Master Plo. I hope so too.” Qui-Gon cut the connection and sat back against the window. The city had not slowed as the night had worn on, its steady movement through the dark sky never ceased. Qui-Gon sighed, stood up and made his way to his bedroom. He felt drained after his talk with Plo. When he laid on the mattress his eyes slid shut before he even had time to pull the covers over himself.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan felt unsure what to do. After so long trapped in darkness with nothing but his own thoughts he felt lost in this space. The light was too bright, the bed looked too soft, the floor was too smooth, the air was too clean. But Maul had been right about something. He needed to wash. On the bed laid freshly cleaned and folded clothes which he grabbed and slowly made his way to the ‘fresher.

His adrenaline had crashed the moment Maul had closed the door leaving his body in agony. Fresh aches from the exertion from the sparring session combined with the healed and semi-healed wounds from the beatings. The worst pain still came from the stab wound in his back, sometimes a sharp spike of pain would laser up his spine and flare out into his muscles snatching his breath away. Obi-Wan stripped and stepped under the warm water, he let out an involuntary groan. He didn’t realise how filthy he was and to feel it be washed away made him want to cry.

So he did. His tears mixed with the showering water as he sobbed. The abuse, the hunger, the stress bubbled up inside him. His chest felt too tight, his heart was beating too fast. Obi-Wan sank down to the floor, the hot air made it harder to inhale properly and soon he felt trapped on the floor. His vision shrank to a small pinpoint in a silvery grey tunnel. He wanted to turn off the water but his arms were numb and shaking. He couldn’t move. His head was spinning and his mind raced, playing and replaying the torture over and over. The phantoms, the hits, the pain, the fear. Obi-Wan pressed his head hard into the tiled wall as the world seemed to press against his body. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted peace. The tension in his chest was unbearable. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out, water dripped down his face. He sobbed into his arms, unable to think and stop thinking. He was paralysed.

Obi-Wan managed to snatch a short breath and let it out in a strangled shout. He tried to project some of his panic into the cry. He heard a crack and looked through the glass pane to see the mirror in the ‘fresher had cracked. Obi-Wan whimpered, he had no control. He wrapped his arms over his head and dug his fingers into his scalp, the pain from his fingernails almost grounded him.

“Come on Kenobi” he whimpered, his voice drowned out by the rushing water, “you need to calm down.”

How? There’s no one to help him, no one is coming for him. He’s alone, helpless and alone. Abandoned.

“Stop that. What did Yoda teach you? Senses. What can I see?” Obi-Wan dragged his eyes open and stared straight ahead, “I see white tiles. I see water. I see a sink.” Obi-Wan blinked and swallowed, his eyes catching the broken glass, “I see a mirror. I see a light.” He paused and touched a trembling hand to his face, “Touch. I can feel my face. I can feel hot water. I can feel hot air. I can feel the Force.” Finally with somewhere to direct his thoughts Obi-Wan was slowly managing to breathe better, “what can I smell? Myself.” Obi-Wan smiled weakly at his poor attempt at a joke, he must be feeling better if he could feebly joke. His brain, having been offered something else to think about had slowed the hurricane of panic and awful thoughts. However, he did not trust his legs to hold his weight just yet so he stayed sitting on the floor. He focused on trying to release his panic into the Force. Slowly he removed pieces of the crushing weight and let it go into the Force. He made a conscious effort to only focus on the Light, he was sick of the Darkness and the oily sensation he felt when he touched it. The Light felt like the warm embrace of a friend he had lost contact with, the gentle and pureness of it made him feel safer. He stayed in his quasi-meditation for a while longer trying to let the Force flow through his injuries and alleviate the agony from his countless wounds.

A cold wave made him jump. The hot water had run out. How long had he been mediating? Pushing a hand against the wall he slowly stood up and fumbled to turn off the rapidly chilling water. When he opened the door to the shower he gratefully sucked in a deep breath of cool air, after the stifling heat of the water, it was a welcome change. Obi-Wan towelled himself off and reached for the clean clothes. He pulled on the black loose trousers, a pair identical to Maul’s, and slipped on the boots of the same colour. As he was about to pull on the grey tunic he caught sight of himself in the broken mirror and stilled.

He had always been leaner than most. At first he thought it was a teenage thing he could grow out of but he never truly filled out. He had always been slender. His imprisonment had stripped him of any excess body fat and some of his muscle. Even though he and Qui-Gon had been on many missions, the Jedi in the Halls of Healing had always fixed his injuries, leaving no trace of the wounds. This time his body had had to heal naturally. Scar tissue wound around his body; long pale lines from the electrowhip criss-crossed on his back, thick scar tissue from the blades were intertwined with the thin scars from the razor-sharp obsidian, bruises in all shades of healing shadowed his entire torso, his ribs were smothered in a deep black and blue where they had been cracked. Twisting round Obi-Wan finally saw the wretched Sith blade injury. The new skin was a stronger shade of red than his normal complexion and it was twisted and puckered like the Force energy stuck inside it. Obi-Wan sighed and pulled the tunic over his head and winced as his back flared up.

He leant on the sink and looked at himself in the cracked mirror. Force he had changed: his short Padawan cut had started to grow out and begun to flop down onto his forehead, his clean shave had given way to the beginnings of a beard, his Padawan braid had grown but the neat plait had become messy and the beads and threads were starting to unwind. His eyes looked like those of a man a hundred years his elder. He ran his hands through his longer hair and recalled how excited he had been to be able to start to link his short braid behind his ear. He had quickly developed a habit of tugging on it, a habit Qui-Gon tried to make him break.

He felt a presence brush his shields. Obi-Wan paused, it wasn’t Maul it was too gentle and Light for it to be him. Who was it? Suddenly the presence pushed hard against his shields, Obi-Wan instinctively strengthen his shields and pushed back.

“Obi-Wan?” A voice called out. A voice he knew. His stomach dropped.

“Anakin?” He tentatively examined the boy’s presence, Obi-Wan was sure he was very far from the Temple and was struck by a sudden awe for the boy’s power.

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Qui-Gon and me want to come find–”

Instantly Obi-Wan was filled with rage that he wasn’t sure was completely his own. Like it had been sown, dormant, inside him and now exploded into life. Qui-Gon. His Master. Maul’s voice echoed through his head, he had abandoned Obi-Wan and left him to die. To rot. Qui-Gon who had cast Obi-Wan aside without a care, without compunction, without remorse. Knowing the pain it would cause Obi-Wan, knowing how deep his fear of failure went. And yet he still chose Anakin over him just like how he almost chosen the Council seat over Obi-Wan years ago, “Get out.” Obi-Wan’s voice was dangerous. He knew he was letting is anger fuel his strength but he wanted that child out of his head. Gathering the Darkness, the hate, the fury, the power he raised a tsunami and sent it crashing at the boy who was swept along in its current. Obi-Wan punched the cracked mirror shattering it completely.

Once Anakin was far away Obi-Wan let go of the oily Darkness and swallowed thickly. He instantly regretted using it. He shouldn’t let himself succumb to it so easily. The more he used it, Obi-Wan was sure, the harder it would be to avoid it. He knew he was dangerous and unstable at this moment and he could not afford to corrupt Anakin. Obi-Wan reached for their faint bond and easily severed it. The scraps of the bond floated away into the Force. Obi-Wan knew it was wrong but he still felt angry at the child, still felt outrage at the one who was so much better than he who showed just how inferior Obi-Wan was. He looked down at his newly bloodied hand and sighed. He wished he had been gifted with Force Healing then he would never be in this mess.

A scrape of metal on the concrete floor made Obi-Wan start. Stepped backwards he saw a tray had been slid through a hatch in the door. Obi-Wan picked up the tray and sat down on the bed. The food was bland and simple but he was ravenous. Once he finished he left the tray by the bed and laid back on the thin mattress. He wanted to mediate again but his mind was already shutting down, exhaustion finally overtook his brain and within moments he was asleep.

Chapter Text

Quinlan Vos wiped his sweaty brow, grinning, “You have been practising, ‘Nara. I beat you far easier last time. Not that it wasn’t a struggle before but I actually had to put a bit of effort in this time.”

Luminara shook her head, she tried to fight off a smile, “All your talk and you know I would win in a fair fight even if you are a Knight now.”

Quin scoffed, “Yeah, as if.”

“Yes, you’re more brutish than me” that earned Luminara a shocked expression from Quin, “but you lack patience. I can hold out much longer than you in a fight. You just strong arm your way to victory.”

“Everyone knows Quin doesn’t last long.” Siri’s voice called from the seats a wicked grin on her face.

Quin spluttered, “I’ll take on all three of you right now. I’ll still win.”

“Oh your precious little ego, Quin.” Bant gently mocked her eyes wide and innocent, “does it need to go to the Halls of Healing?” She and Siri leapt smoothly over the barrier and started towards the centre of the mat in the Padawan dojo.

“You are insufferable. I hate being outnumbered by girls.”

“Hate leads to anger.” Siri imitated Yoda’s scratchy voice, “Anger leads to a grumpy Quinlan Vos. Which leads to a disapproving Master Tholme.”

Quin scowled but his eyes revealed his amusement.

“Don’t frown, Quin” Luminara chided him and poked his forehead, “you’ll get wrinkles. And you’re so old I’m surprised you don’t already have some.”

“Wrinkles?! How very dare you! I’m only two years older than those two” he pointed at Bant and Siri, “and only one year older than you!”

Bant sucked in a breath and pursed her lips, “yeah but you’re still ancient to us.”

“Like a grandfather.” Siri shook her head, “You’ll need a cane soon for your aching back and old joints.”

“I’d still run rings around you.” Quin whacked Siri’s arm.

“Still?” Luminara asked, “you don’t stand a chance even now.”

Quin went to slap her shoulder but she dodged it smoothly and laughed as she dashed to the exit. Siri and Bant ran after her.

Quin, to make a point, walked slowly towards them. When he got to the door he didn’t stop but muttered loud enough for them to hear while shaking his head, “kids these days.”

The Refectory was nearly empty when they arrived. Quin and Siri headed for the food while Bant and Luminara sat at a table.

“It seems your extra training has paid off.” Bant watched Quin and Siri pile their plates high with food.

“Yes it has. It took a while but Soresu is the one I think.”

“It suits you.” Bant smiled, “Master Fisto and I have been working on Shii-Cho.”

“Watching Fisto spar is insane.” Quin said loudly as he and Siri dumped a couple of plates, piled high with food, on the table, “got a bit of everything to share.” He took a slice of meilooun pie and ate in two bites.

“Quin can’t you eat a little slower?” Luminara pulled a face, “it’s gross when you stuff it in your mouth like that.”

Quin grinned, bits of the orange filling spilled out of his mouth, “The quicker I eat this, the sooner” more flew out of his mouth, “I get to eat something else.”

“You’re spitting it out quicker than you’re eating it at this rate.” Siri looked mildly disgusted as she picked up a pepper pretzel.

Bant caught sight of two figures entering the Refectory and quickly tuned out Quin and Siri’s friendly bickering. Qui-Gon took Anakin to the food area, they were talking quietly together. Anakin looked as animated as ever and was throwing his hands around, no doubt to illustrate his story. Qui-Gon looked placidly amused. Bant realised the others had stopped talking and were watching as well.

“What do you think of him?” Siri asked, “Anakin.”

“He’s strong with the Force. But he lacks some control. A couple of times I’ve watched my Master teach the younglings their lightsaber lessons and Anakin has it picked up very quickly.”

“I didn’t mean like a school report, Bant. I meant what do you think of him. As a person?”

“He seems nice. He’s always been friendly to me, but he needs to stop getting attached to people. He’s far too quick to form bonds with others.” Luminara answered.

“I don’t like him.”

“Quin.” Luminara and Bant scolded him simultaneously.

“What? Every time I look at him, I just see where Obi-Wan should be.” Quin shook his head, “Qui-Gon shouldn’t have said he’d take Anakin. Obi-Wan told me when he was on his way to Naboo that he felt, and I quote, mildly disappointed by Qui-Gon’s choice. Which of course mans he was kriffing devasted.”

“It wasn’t Anakin’s fault” Bant began.

“I’m just saying what I think. I’m not blaming the kid for what happened but if Qui-Gon hadn’t found him…” He trailed off but everyone’s eyes drifted to the empty seat next to him.

“I wish something more would have happened by now.” Siri set down her half-eaten pretzel, her appetite suddenly vanished, “I hate just sitting here and waiting. Adi knows I’m bothered by it. She tells me to not to spend my time worrying about it when they are doing all they can. I get that. But I still worry about him.” She bit her lip and pushed a hand through her hair, “I really do.”

“I wish we could do something to help.” Bant let her head rest in her webbed hands, her gaze still followed Qui-Gon and Anakin who had sat down on a table near them, “But I don’t know what we can do.”

“I asked Master Plo if we could do anything when they first began.” Siri leant forwards, her elbows rested on the table top, “But he said he should have it under control.”

“And what a kriffing stellar job they’ve done. What have they found? Karking nothing.” Quin snarled.

“Calm down.” Luminara hissed, “look we all want to help find Obi-Wan. Why don’t we just go to Master Qui-Gon now and ask him?”

“I mean it’s worth a shot. What can he say but no?” Bant glanced at the other two who nodded. They stood up and made their way to where Qui-Gon and Anakin were sitting.

“Master Qui-Gon.” Luminara bowed, the others mirrored her action, “we apologise for interrupting but we have a request to ask of you.”

“Knight Vos, Padawans.” Qui-Gon nodded his head, “how may I help you?” Anakin gave Bant a small smile when they caught each other’s gaze, she returned it.

“Master we were–” she began.

“We want to help find Obi-Wan.” Quin stepped forwards; his shoulders set in a way that Bant recognised. Quin was not about to take no for an answer, “it’s been nearly two months and from what I’ve heard we’re no closer to finding him than we were at the start.”

“Surely more minds could only help?” Siri added.

Qui-Gon considered the group before him, his expression gave nothing away. Bant made herself not fidget under his intense scrutiny. Anakin looked between the group and his Master, his young eyes wide, “I understand you must be frustrated.” The Master’s voice was calm.

Quin softly scoffed.

“But” Qui-Gon shot a disapproving look at him, “we are doing everything new can right now. There is very little to go on and what we have is even less. Master Plo is off world scouring all the systems we can possibly think of.”

“But then–” Quin started.

“We cannot afford to put more Jedi on this matter. We are stretched thin as it is, and you all have your own studies and missions. Especially you Bant. Aren’t your Trials coming up soon?”

“Bant can take her Trials anytime” Quin flapped his hand dismissively, “Obi-Wan needs us now. He needed us two months ago.” Bant threw Quin an irritated look but she also agreed with the insufferable Kiffar.

“I understand your concern, believe me” the Master’s eyes looked emptier for a second, “I do. But right now, I cannot accept your request. Maybe in the future when new have more information I will call on you. But for now, you must focus on your missions and studies. I am sorry.”

Bant opened her mouth to argue but then Quin beat her to it, “yes Master Qui-Gon. We understand. Thank you.” Bant was stunned, that was the last thing she expected Quin to say. She bowed and left with the others who seemed equally as shocked as herself.

“Who are you and what have you done with Quinlan Vos?” Siri asked once they were out of the Refectory, “how could you give in to that so easily?”

However, one look at Quin’s face told a different story, “you must not know me at all if you think I’m taking that karking excuse as a reason to not go after Obi-Wan.”

“You’re going to go behind the Council’s backs.” Bant knew the answer as she asked it.

Quin nodded.

“Do you have a plan?” Luminara asked, her dress billowed out behind her as they strode down the hallway.

“I’ve gone undercover plenty of times. I can make up a plan on the go.”

“Yes, but this time you’ve got us to think about and to help you.” Bant countered, “You can’t just fly off somewhere. You’ll need a reason to go off world.”

“In this galaxy there’s always something shady going on. I just need to find it.”

“What a positive little ray of sunshine you are today, Quin.” Siri grinned.

Quin hadn’t been wrong. Only a couple of days afterwards he was summoned to the Council with Padawan Aayla Secura. They were being assigned on a mission to Corellia. Whispers of illegal weaponry being traded had been heard and they were being sent to gather intel. Before he left he gave Luminara, Bant, and Siri a comlink.

“These are encrypted, they only have each other’s frequencies. Don’t use them for anything else. If I find anything out I’ll tell you through these.”

“Yes, Quin. We do understand how comms work.” Luminara teased.

Quin pulled a face, “I might not tell you anything now.”

“Childish.”

“Am not.”

“Oi.” Bant waved her hand in between them, “after you two are finished. Can we reach you or is it one way?”

“They’re two way but I’d rather you didn’t contact me. I don’t want to be armpit deep in an illegal weapons deal and hear one of you three revealing information about Obi-Wan.”

“Yes Master.” Bant made an exaggerated bow. Luminara laughed.

Bant stood with Siri and Luminara watching Quin walk up the ship’s ramp. He turned around at the mouth of the entrance and caught sight of them. He tilted his head towards them, his expression serious. The trio raised a hand at him in farewell.

“May the Force be with you.” Bant said.

Although Quin was too far away to hear her, his lips moved, “And also with you.”

They had a job to do. They had a lost friend to find.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan slept fitfully. Images pressed on his mind all vying for his attention but there were too many. Snippets from each overlapped as they rose to the surface and then fell away.

A bright funeral pyre with a crowd of figures surrounding the burning body. Obi-Wan looked to his side and saw Anakin mouth soundless words, the rush of the flames grew louder as he spoke. Anakin’s face was illuminated by the yellow blaze.

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and a young Togruta stood in a line with hundreds of men in white armour behind them in ranks. Anakin and the Togruta were laughing, Obi-Wan realised he was too.

Qui-Gon stood before him, begging him to stop. Obi-Wan didn’t respond. Qui-Gon drew his lightsaber and dropped into Arturu’s opening stance. Obi-Wan felt himself step into an unfamiliar one. This dream shattered as his Master leapt at him, regret and painful resolve bright in his eyes.

Obi-Wan was in the Council but this time he was sat next to Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. Coruscant’s sunlight streamed through the windows illuminating the room, he was on the Council Obi-Wan realised. Anakin and the Togruta stood before them.

Obi-Wan and Maul stood side by side as they looked down at the vulnerable body of Dooku who had his hands raised in defeat. Maul and Obi-Wan glanced at each other and wordlessly lifted their lightsabers them brought them down and stabbed the Count through his heart. Obi-Wan felt his lightsaber push through bone and muscle. He grinned as Maul laughed.

Qui-Gon reappeared but this time he was smiling at Obi-Wan. His Master grasped Obi-Wan's forearm and pulled him into a warm embrace, Obi-Wan felt safe again.

Heat blasted his face as lava exploded next to him, his throat was raw from shouting and the heat. In front of his was a mangled body, it had no legs and was missing an arm. It was horrifically burned but Obi-Wan couldn’t stop staring at the being’s sickly yellow eyes. They begged Obi-Wan to help him but were also consumed by hatred. Obi-Wan felt an awful crushing, aching sadness. He sobbed as he watched the fire consumer the charred, writhing body further.

Obi-Wan stood in the Jedi Temple, thick vines grew in the empty hallways and broken glass reflected the weak sunlight on the floor, echoes of screams could be heard in the lifeless Temple. He walked through the ruined building, his cloak flapped in the light breeze.

Obi-Wan hugged a grown-up Anakin, each man gripped the other’s tunic tight. A hug between brothers.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open to stare it the yellow eyes of Maul. The Sith’s hand was pressed on his chest. He grabbed Maul’s wrist and twisted it while using the wall next to his bed to push himself off and shoved his shoulder under Maul’s armpit to throw the Sith to the floor while rolling off the Sith and wrenching his arm behind his back.

Obi-Wan dug his knee into Maul’s back making the Sith grunt in discomfort, “A bit dramatic Kenobi, don’t you think?”

Obi-Wan didn’t grant him a response but stood up, letting him go.

“You’ll need all the strength you have today. I wouldn’t waste it if I were you.” Maul gracefully rose to his feet and brushed off his tunic, “follow me.”

Obi-Wan cast a glance around his cell, the after images of the dozens of visions were still burned into his retinas. Wiping away the blood that trickled from his nose he followed Maul down the same route as yesterday. The dojo door was open and Maul was once again waiting for him.

“Before we start, I would like to at least learn the reason for this. It can’t just be for your enjoyment of winning.” Obi-Wan slowly made his way to the centre of the mat.

Maul unclipped Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his belt and tossed it to him, “It’s training.”

“Might I ask what for?”

“No.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. At least he got a partial answer. It seems all he has is time so he can afford to wait a little longer to figure things out himself.

Their sparring was similar to last time. Maul’s attacks were merciless, a couple of times Obi-Wan wandered if he forgot they were sparring or if he was genuinely trying to kill him. Obi-Wan, recalling last time, made a deliberate effort to push away the Dark Side but as his blood had begun to race in the heat of the fight it was getting harder to ignore. His desire to push back and hurt the Sith grew but he still fought it. He was a Jedi. With a deft attack of his own Obi-Wan backflipped away from Maul’s retaliating slash and leapt into a back handspring to put space in between them.

“You fear what you can’t control.” It was not a question from Maul.

“I fear what might control me.”

“You think yourself so strong to hold off the inevitable, but I know you can feel it building. You are no better than I am, Kenobi.”

“I have not Fallen unlike you.” Obi-Wan scowled, hating the fact that Maul’s words were striking true.

“I never Fell.” Maul shook his head, “I never had anywhere to Fall to. I was made in the Darkness of the Force. How can you Fall if you’ve never been high enough to do so?”

“You still chose to become a Sith.”

Maul laughed, “I had no choice. It was chosen for me.”

“You could have stopped.” Obi-Wan matched Maul’s stealthy steps, both moved like a Loth-cats waiting for an opening to attack. Their lightsabers pointed at the other.

“I didn’t want to.” The statement was simple, “I liked it. The anger, the strength, the power. We were unstoppable.”

“Who is we?” Obi-Wan interjected, “your Master? I read the Sith still use the ancient Rule of Two.”

“Yes. My…Master.” There was no kindness in his words, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he could feel emotionally connected to someone, “It used to just be us. Until the Sith Pretender came in.” Maul’s expression turned inwards, and his face darkened, “I was cast aside. I knew my Master would have left me to die in Theed if it had been so.”

Obi-Wan was interested and worried. That’s three Sith he knew of now. He wasn’t sure how the Rule of Two worked but two was already too many so three was very disconcerting. However, Obi-Wan also understood Maul’s thoughts, “you want revenge. For what your master did.”

Maul’s gaze met Obi-Wan’s, “don’t you?”

The two men didn’t move for a while. In that moment they were connected. Two lost souls who were hurting from being abandoned by the one they looked up to most. One Dark one Light, both alone in the galaxy.

“Revenge is not the Jedi way.”

Fury flashed across Maul’s face, “you still hold on to the fantasy of being a Jedi. Let go.”

Obi-Wan’s own anger rose to meet Maul’s, “I am no monster like you.”

“Yet you fall apart the moment you think of Qui-Gon. You can’t control yourself. I can feel your anger even now.”

Obi-Wan’s breathing sped up and his gripped his lightsaber tighter, “I am not looking for revenge. I understand why Qui-Gon did–”

“Don’t give me that kriffing spiel. If Qui-Gon were here in front of you, I doubt you would be very understanding.” Maul’s voice rose to a shout.

“You know nothing of me.” Obi-Wan whispered, his heart was racing in time with his own rising uncontrollable anger.

“I know everything. I know how furious you are at being left. I took you from your precious Jedi. I beat you. I tortured you. I made you beg. I heard you reveal your heart to your Master, I heard the hate and the anger. I broke the great Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

Obi-Wan screamed as he finally and intentionally let go. He Force Jumped towards the Sith who answered with his own bellow and rose to meet him. Two lightsabers crashed together and a shock wave reverberated outwards. Obi-Wan unleashed all his anger in every strike he made. There was little finesse in the movements but Force they were strong and very fast. The two blades became blurs of light as the flurries of attacks were exchanged. Maul’s own rage made his blows just as heavy but neither showed any signs of tiring. Obi-Wan’s red hot blood rage lit his very soul on fire. He wanted to kill the being in front of him. He couldn’t even tell if it was Maul anymore. It could be anyone; Maul, Xanatos, Bruck Chun, Qui-Gon, or even himself. He battled like he never had before. Gone was the tactical fighter he normally was, the person he was now fought only to maim and kill. Utterly lost to the brutal power of the Dark Side Obi-Wan sunk deep into the fight, the pressure of the Force in his head rose and rose as the fight went on. He and Maul’s furies clashed like two tectonic plates pushing against each other and neither giving in. Their monumental power made the walls of the building shake. Obi-Wan and Maul were locked in position, their blades spat and sparked from the force with which they were pressed together. Obi-Wan snarled but Maul’s rage was greater having been honed for decades to a sharp and devastating point. Gradually his red blade edged closer to Obi-Wan who fought back but he was unable to stop the crimson sword from touching his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leapt back and swore.

“There is no pain where strength lies.” Maul raised his blade as he walked towards Obi-Wan, “don’t let that stop you. Dig deeper.”

Out of the heat of the battle Obi-Wan felt his brain right itself slightly. He would not win by brute force. Maul was stronger than him there. No, in order to beat him Obi-Wan needed to use that power against him. Turn his strength into something exploitable. Obi-Wan reached out into the Force and latched onto Maul’s furious energy, his own heighten emotions made it easier to hold to it. He let Maul’s feeling flow through him as he stepped forwards to meet Maul. His own remaining anger added to the fire within him.

This burst of action was different to last time. Now he was not blinded by hatred, now he used the Dark Side for his gain. It gave him strength through Maul’s anger which he used to sustain his attacks. His mind was slightly clearer this time around, he could see Maul’s attacks as they happened. He brought his lightsaber up to meet Maul’s as the red blade was brought down towards his neck, Obi-Wan absorbed the shock and drawing on the Force he Pushed the Sith away. Maul was defenceless, so tied up within the Force he was vulnerable. Obi-Wan wasted no time and leapt after him, when Maul landed he had no time to defend himself from Obi-Wan’s blade which hovered centimetres from his neck.

“Good.” Maul was breathing heavily, “But you can do better. Your technique is sloppy, there many times I could have killed you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I need you.”

Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow and offered Maul a hand.

Maul took it and stood up, “I need you to help me kill the Sith Pretender and, if we can, my Master. Darth Sidious.”

Obi-Wan was stunned, “You want to kill your master?”

Maul scoffed, “I know that now he has his new apprentice I am no longer needed. And with the Rule of Two I am certain they will come after me to eliminate the third Sith in the galaxy.”

“Why me?”

“I didn’t plan on it, but when the opportunity on Theed presented itself I couldn’t refuse. To have another Force wielder could only increase my chance of success and the satisfaction of breaking a Jedi to my will and the Dark Side was too tempting not to try.”

“I was a victim of circumstance.”

“Precisely.” Maul indicated for Obi-Wan to follow him and once again they were down the same hallways back to his new cell, “Together, you and I shall take down the Sith.”

“And after that? Do I get to live?” Obi-Wan walked through the door and turned back to Maul.

“We shall see.” The door slid shut.

Chapter Text

The following weeks had the same structure. Wake up, train, food, back to sparring then locked in the cell for the night only to rise and repeat it again.

There were many days when Maul’s strength and fight style overwhelmed Obi-Wan leaving him on the ground gasping in pain, but there was no sympathy. Each time Maul forced him to get back up and fight again. Droids were brought in to shoot mock blaster bolts at him, forcing him to speed up his reactions as multiple bolts flew towards him. It was in these moments that Obi-Wan sunk deep into the Force, neither Light or Dark but somewhere in between. A Grey Force. He learnt to move quicker than the naked eye could follow; his lightsaber became a blur of bright blue light.

Obi-Wan recalled learning, when he was a senior Padawan, about Vapaad. Master Windu’s preferred style. A version of Form VII but rather than letting the Dark Side of the Force consume and control the person they became a superconductor and let the Dark Side flow through them like a current. It was a dangerous line to walk and many times in the earlier days he fell completely to the Darkness.

But Obi-Wan did not fear the Dark Side anymore. He had sunk to its lowest depths and still managed to rise from it. Neither controlled the other. Obi-Wan was gradually learning to let himself be an open channel for the Dark Side, letting it run through him and back out. Sometimes he still gripped it and tumbled into the abyss that was the Dark Side. Maul seemed to also recognise Obi-Wan’s growing proficiency in their fights. He introduced Obi-Wan to new weapons and styles; dual wielding, vibroblades, staffs, and even his own double ended lightsaber. Obi-Wan, his whole life now dedicated to the art of fighting, quickly picked them up. A bond had formed between them, initially forced on him by Maul but Obi-Wan had slowly begun to use it as the days went by. Rather than the normal Master-Apprentice bond this was a bond between two equals. Maul had been his teacher but now they were evenly matched. Yet Obi-Wan knew he was still a prisoner.

However, Obi-Wan had begun creating his own plan. His escape plan. He knew the only way to be free would be to kill Maul. He wasn’t upset about it, but he knew he would have to fight with everything he had. All while hiding his plan from the Sith. If Maul found out, Force knows what he would do. However, Obi-Wan knew there would be a great sacrifice when he did it. He would have to use the Dark Side to overpower Maul, he would be going against everything the Jedi stood for. Once he killed Maul he could no longer call himself a Jedi. Even now he doubted if he could still call himself one. In order to save himself he would have to give up everything he believed in.

Every evening after their last sparring session Obi-Wan would shower then practice his katas without his lightsaber which Maul still held on to. He started with the most basic forms, ingraining every move deep into his brain. Then slowly brought in the more complex motions and cadences in the limited space of his cell. Obi-Wan began to let the Force take control of his body more and more until he wasn’t doing any katas he had done before but was just letting his body flow, creating new forms in his trance. The Force felt thick and alive around him in these deep meditations. If he had opened his eyes he would see silver threads of energy softly glowing around him as they followed the movement of his body, so fiercely entwined with the Force was he.

~~~

Obi-Wan was already by the door when Maul came to take him to the dojo. He checked to ensure his mental shields were even stronger than normal.

“Maul.” Obi-Wan bowed in mock deference to the Sith who grimaced. When Obi-Wan went to go down the usual passage to the dojo Maul stopped him.

“Not there today. This time we’re going somewhere new.”

Obi-Wan said nothing but worry sparked in his chest. This could potentially stop his plans of escape. Maul led Obi-Wan through a new part of the complex. Finally, they came to some stairs that lead to a hatch in the ceiling. Maul indicated Obi-Wan to go up first.

“Does it lead outside?”

“What, are you worried that I’d kill you by asphyxiation in an unbreathable atmosphere?”

“It had crossed my mind.” Obi-Wan scratched his chin, his stubble had now thickened into a beard and his hair flopped in front of his eyes.

“After all I’ve done to keep you alive that would be a very stupid choice.”

Obi-Wan grunted and twitched his eyebrow. Waiting around down here wasn’t going to get him out of here any faster. He climbed up the stairs and out into the hot open air. He hadn’t tasted fresh air in many months. His lungs sang as he breathed deeply, he felt alive. Then he smelt rotten eggs. He realised where he was. The purple ground the complex was on continued for a few meters then dropped off suddenly into a bright writhing yellow mass as far as the eye could see. The sky was dark and made the lava below him glow brighter. Lola Sayu. The cracked planet. Home of the citadel to hold and imprison rogue Jedi. How fitting. He would have laughed but it hit a little too close to home.

He heard Maul climb up behind him, “It’s a long way from Naboo.” Obi-Wan didn’t turn to face him as he spoke.

Maul chuckled darkly, “I needed to put a bit of distance between us and Theed.”

“Why just stop here. Why not all the way to Mygeeto? Or Wild Space. No one would find us there.”

“Now that would be overkill don’t you think? And besides” Maul cast off his black cloak, “no one’s found us here have they?” He held out Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to him as his eyes shone in the gloom. Obi-Wan used to Force to bring it to his open hand. He ignited it instantly, the blue blade gave him comfort. He took a deep breath of the sulphurous air and grimaced. Maul’s dual blades burst from the hilt.

After training so long and so intensely with the Sith, Obi-Wan was far more in tune to Maul’s emotions than he wished to be. He could feel the ease with which Maul fell into his turbulent rage. Obi-Wan dropped into his now familiar stance: side on to his opponent, lightsaber held in both hands at shoulder height pointing forwards and legs in a wide solid stance with his knees bent and soft. He took a steadying breath and opened himself up to the Force. He felt it wash through him as heart rate picked up in excited anticipation of the battle.

Obi-Wan struck first. With lightning speed he lunged low aiming at Maul’s legs who leapt back but Obi-Wan predicted it and quickly spun his lightsaber upwards to stab through Maul’s chest. The Sith deflected it and punched Obi-Wan with his fist. Obi-Wan rolled out of the blow his vision momentarily filled with stars but he righted himself and regained his footing quickly. He felt Maul through the Force come at him again and Obi-Wan ran to meet him.

Maul delivered four rapid attacks; neck, legs, head, chest. Obi-Wan managed to parry each one. On the last block he stepped forwards into Maul and used his physical strength to drive his shoulder into Maul’s solar plexus. The Sith staggered backwards winded.

“You’re making this easy for me Maul.” Obi-Wan taunted as he twirled his lightsaber. As he wanted Maul’s anger only increased, “no wonder your Master cast you aside. Though it can’t be hard to find a better fighter than you. I mean I’ve already bested you.”

Maul bellowed and sprinted at Obi-Wan who felt his own Dark energy swell within him. Maul attacked with a high swing at his head. Obi-Wan blocked and went for his legs. Maul spun and with his second blade stopped it in its tracks. He brought the first blade overhead towards Obi-Wan’s neck who quickly blocked it. Obi-Wan went to kick Maul but the Sith dodged and spun around to hit Obi-Wan’s back but the blue lightsaber slid in between. Their eyes met and Obi-Wan snarled, he shoved the red blade back and had to quickly pull his own in front of him as the second one of Maul’s came swinging at his chest. Again Obi-Wan pushed it down and went for a long low slice at Maul’s legs. Maul sensed this and leapt while being in his own lightsabers up to cut off Obi-Wan’s arm but he managed to defend it. Another four attacks at his torso and legs left Obi-Wan on the back foot but he spun away and snatched a quick breath. He wasn’t tiring but the intensity of the fight made him forget to breathe. Maul’s anger at how evenly matched they were spurred Obi-Wan on. If he made Maul lose concentration for even a split second he could win.

Maul spun his lightsaber, a thick crimson line of deadly light danced around him in the low light. Obi-Wan went for his chest but Maul struck it down and retaliated by going for Obi-Wan’s back again. As he defended it Obi-Wan’s scar twinged but he made himself move through the pain and bring his lightsaber in front to drive away the oncoming blade. Obi-Wan slashed at Maul’s head and used the impact of Maul’s block to twirl his lightsaber and bring it back down straight at his horned head. Maul growled and twisted his body forcing Obi-Wan’s blade down to the floor. Maul left his hilt open and Obi-Wan seized his chance. Maul was fast, but Obi-Wan was faster. As Maul straightened back up Obi-Wan spun and brought his lightsaber diagonally upwards and right through the hilt of Maul’s. With the Sith still off balanced Obi-Wan kicked him to the ground.

Maul was shocked. His eyes were wide. Obi-Wan held his gaze. Maul now knew Obi-Wan was trying to kill him. A shiver of fear came from Maul. It was gone in an instant but Obi-Wan was bolstered by it, he could do this. He ran at Maul who leapt to his feet and came on the offensive. Two quick blows to the head were blocked and Obi-Wan drove the butt of his lightsaber into Maul’s nose enraging him further. The Sith made a wide swipe at Obi-Wan’s legs who leapt into an aerial twist to safety. The Dark Side was almost overpowering but Obi-Wan did not resist it, he let it strengthen and speed up his attacks. Maul went for his head again and Obi-Wan ducked to bring up his blade in time to block the returning swipe aimed at his shoulder. Obi-Wan pushed upwards casting off the red lightsaber and slashed at Maul’s legs. Maul jumped high and brought his lightsaber straight down towards Obi-Wan’s head, who brought his own up to meet it.

Once again they were locked in a battle of wills. But Obi-Wan had something more to fight for. Freedom. He gathered the Force and Pushed Maul with such strength that when the Sith landed the floor cracked on impact. Obi-Wan wasted no time and somersaulted right where Maul was scrabbling to his feet but Obi-Wan gave him no chance to properly stand. Obi-Wan yelled as he slashed his lightsaber right through Maul.

The Sith’s expression was one of shock. The dual lightsaber clattered to the floor as it dropped from Maul’s slack hand. The Sith made a gurgling sound in his throat. Obi-Wan kicked him in his chest and watched as Maul tumbled backwards and off the side of the complex. The two halves separated on the way down but Obi-Wan did not watch them fall.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and let his deactivated lightsaber roll away from his loose grip. He’d done it. He had killed Maul. He began to laugh. His chest ached from the force of his bitter mirth, he felt on the border of hysteria.

“I won.” He hoarsely whispered too himself, “I’m free.”

But at what cost? He opened his eyes and saw his Padawan braid swinging in the boiling air. He stared at it and thought of all it symbolised: hope, victories, landmarks, youth, innocence, Light. That braid was from a previous life. Another person. A boy. Obi-Wan summoned his lightsaber and grabbed the end of the braid. He gave it one final tug, a farewell to the plait and severed it.

He gripped the end to stop it fraying and studied it. The beads and threads interwoven stood out among the light brown hair. They told his life story. All his achievements and accomplishments. He began to unravel the hair being careful to catch the delicate threads and beads in his hand. When he was done he walked to the edge of the roof and held out his hand holding the strands of hair in front of him. Lava exploded sending waves of heat at him. He knew there was one more thing to do before he could let the braid go.

He felt for his bond with Qui-Gon. The bond that had been there since he was thirteen. The bond he had so often reached for in times of need. The bond that had grounded, protected, and had guided him. It felt stiff and cold, bordering on unfamiliar. He let his shields come down ever so slightly and sent a tiny pulse down the bond as he closed his eyes.

“Master.”

Almost instantly he felt Qui-Gon’s presence, “Obi-Wan!” his relief flooded their bond, “Where–”

A flush of anger instinctively heated his chest but he was quick to quell it. He didn’t need his old Master to think any less of him right now, “I am sorry, but I have to do this.” A lone tear rolled down his cheek.

“Do what? Obi-Wan tell me where you are, and I can come–”

“Don’t try and find me.” He paused and swallowed, “I failed. I’m sorry.”

He drew back from the connection hearing Qui-Gon’s desperate voice fade into the distance, begging him to tell him what’s wrong. Obi-Wan felt no anger, no hate. He felt serene. This is the right thing to do. He grasped the bond one last time and with a sharp thought severed it. The fragments of the bond drifted away like in a gentle breeze. The light which had once been so strong from it faded into nothing. Obi-Wan felt the emptiness in his heart. What was gone could not be brought back.

He opened his eyes as he opened his hand letting the long whisps of hair float away towards the lava. As they got nearer they caught fire. Within seconds they were gone. Obi-Wan felt none of the anger that had consumed him for so long now. He felt no sadness, no rage, nothing. He was just tired and hollowed out.

The Jedi Code he once swore by echoed through his mind: There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Words he would have lived and died by now had little meaning to him. His emotions were too strong and visible now compared to the Jedi’s calm outward manner. And he felt like chaos itself, a tempestuous and confused mess of human, Force, Jedi and Sith. Everything so tightly knitted together that he couldn’t decipher where one ended and another began.

He recalled one of Yoda’s innumerable sayings, “the greatest teacher, failure is.” What a wonderful learning experience this had been Obi-Wan thought sourly. He felt slightly off balance. The absence of his bond with Qui-Gon was throwing him off. So used to leaning on it during his apprenticeship that now it was gone he realised he would have to stand on his own for once. The thought of his old Master still made the Dark Side swell in him, Maul’s conditioning and his own resentment made it impossible to not have that reaction. He sighed and ran a hand through his longer hair.

What was he to do now? He was no longer a Jedi, that much was certain. He was no Sith either, but he wasn’t untouched by Darkness. It’s a big galaxy, there must be somewhere for him to go. First, he had to find a ship and get off this wretched broken planet. As he walked to the hatch door Obi-Wan’s eye caught sight of the hilt of Maul’s lightsaber. He picked it up and inspected it. It was damaged beyond use which was a shame. Obi-Wan had grown to quite like the dual lightsaber style. He touched the edge where he had severed it, the warped metal still warm to touch. Obi-Wan looked at the beads in his other hand. In his left hand was the Light, in his right the Dark. A thought struck him. He pulled the threads from his Padawan braid and using the Force bound the loose ends together to form one long string of thread. Carefully he strung the beads along it and wrapped it around his left wrist, once again he used the Force to meld the thread ends together to make a brightly colourful infinite loop. He turned back to the ruined lightsaber and held his hand over the damaged hilt and reached out to the Force that was within it. He easily accessed it and began to make it malleable. He pulled off a small part and watched as it floated in the air before him, a thick glob of metal. He began to warp the metal into a thin, wide circle, he took the ring from its mid-air suspension and placed it on his third finger of his right hand. He then used the Force to fit it snugly to his finger. The silver ring reflected the lava’s yellow and red glow. Just as the beads were representative of his past, this would be his way of marking his present and future.

As Obi-Wan stepped down into the hatch he grabbed Maul’s robe. It could never hurt to have an extra layer. When he got down the stairs Obi-Wan realised he had no idea where to go. He had only been down the same hallways from his cell to the dojo and back. He turned around unsure which way. He closed his eyes and spun, he stopped and walked down the hallway the Force told him to go. He followed the Force’s suggestion completely surrendering himself to its will, a feat he had once found difficult.

He came to a door. It was bigger than any of the others ones he’d passed. There was a keypad panel next to it so Obi-Wan plunged his lightsaber into the door and cut a rough circle through the thick durasteel. He stepped through, careful not to touch the molten metal, into a small hanger with two ships docked. One was a small starfighter and the other an Infiltrator. It was the Scimitar. Maul’s own ship, Obi-Wan recognised it from Tatooine. He thanked the Force and jogged towards it. The area by the entrance was where he’d lay drugged and concussed all those months ago. Obi-Wan walked straight past it and climbed to the cockpit. He felt the thrill of being behind a control board again. He started programming for take-off and in no time the Scimitar was rising from the ground. He pulled away from the hanger and sped out of the cracked planet’s atmosphere. He didn’t look back.

Where to go now? He looked at the past coordinates in the ship’s computer, Naboo and Tatooine were disregarded. He saw Nal Hutta a way down the list. The fetid planet was an option but its moon Nar Shaddaa was even better. That should keep him off anyone’s radar for a while. The Jedi aren’t afraid to use Hutt Space but they wouldn’t want to rush there in a hurry. Nar Shaddaa was so corrupt and notoriously dangerous that most tended to avoid it. He plugged in the coordinates for the rancid planet’s moon and within moments the empty space around him warped and stretched as he entered hyperspace. Obi-Wan finally breathed out and ran a hand down his face. He had escaped.

Chapter Text

Qui-Gon saw Anakin’s attack before he made it. It was an obvious misdirection. He lacked any conviction of hitting Qui-Gon’s leg and his shoulders were too open indicating how he was going to strike higher up. Qui-Gon moved to block the strike but instead Anakin spun the training lightsaber into a reverse grip and the blade caught Qui-Gon’s leg. He winced at the mild shock, out of surprise rather than pain. Anakin let out a victorious laugh. His Padawan was very good with a lightsaber, he had progressed quicker than most his age. If only he had the same passion for academia. No such fortune there.

Anakin grinned triumphantly at Qui-Gon, “Ha! I got you.”

“I believe you did.” He smiled at the young boy, “it was a good move. Although you should have kept your guard up more when you were going for the attack, you left your chest open.” He bent down to check where the lightsaber had touched his leg, there was no injury, but the fabric was burnt.

“You’re just picking holes. You’re just jealous.”

Qui-Gon hid his smile as he began to walk towards the exit, “Jedi do not get jealous, young apprentice.”

“Yeah yeah.” Anakin had gotten far more confident in his time at the Temple. Qui-Gon had been careful not to let it develop into arrogance, that would be most unbecoming of the Chosen One.

He had also grown. Access to plentiful food, daily training of his mind and body, and not having to worry about survival every moment of the day had meant Anakin had shot up. While he had been small for his age when he arrived, he was now one of the taller younglings in his age group.

“Have you any plans for the rest of today, young one?” Qui-Gon nodded cordially to Master Billaba as they walked past each other on their way to their apartment.

“No. I wanted to work on the droid part, the gears are too stiff, and the activating coupler is super messed up. It’s got so much unnecessary stuff on it. So I’m gonna get it nice and efficient.” Anakin waved the hilt of his lightsaber around as though they were still practicing, he leapt down the stairs and twirled the handle.

“While I applaud your dedication to mechanics, don’t you think your time might be better spent in the Archives to help your other studies” Anakin pulled a face, “or why not try and see if you can arrange something with your friends? I’ve noticed you’ve started spending more time in the apartment. While I know I am a fascinating person, I am old. Surely you’d rather spend your time with your peers?” Qui-Gon gently asked, he had a suspicion he knew why Anakin was withdrawing himself, but he wanted the boy to say it himself. He still needed learn how to release emotions. His Padawan’s greatest weakness was his feelings. It was hard to reverse nearly ten years of habits.

Anakin stopped spinning his lightsaber hilt and diverted his eyes and looked anywhere but at his Master, “Um, sure. I’ll do it after I’ve worked on the droid…”

Qui-Gon halted and turned to face the boy, “Padawan, are you sure there is nothing wrong?”

Anakin huffed out a quick breath and chewed the inside of his cheek, “I don’t want to talk about it out here.” His voice was small.

Qui-Gon nodded, “I understand. Let’s get back home and I will see if I can help in any way. How is that?”

Anakin gave him a weak smile. Qui-Gon could feel his anxiety through their bond. He sent a wave of calm to him and saw Anakin relax slightly.

~~~

Qui-Gon didn’t want to push Anakin but they had been sitting in silence for at least ten minutes now. He’d learnt through Obi-Wan that patience often yielded greater answers than when one was pushed. He sipped his second mug of tea as he waited. Anakin was a tense ball of worry. He kept swinging his legs and chewed the inside of his cheek relentlessly. Qui-Gon started to open his mouth to invite him to talk when Anakin spoke up.

“No one understands.” Anakin spoke into his full mug.

Relief quickly passed through Qui-Gon but he made sure to release the feeling before Anakin picked up on it, “Understands what, young one?”

“They grew up here.” Ah thought Qui-Gon, “none of them really know what it’s like out there.” Anakin waved his hand vaguely.

“Do they trivialise your past?”

“No. But it just makes me more different.” He finally raised his eyes to meet Qui-Gon’s, “they’ve known each other for their whole lives. Everyone’s saying I’m the Chosen One or something and that I’m powerful with the Force. I’m so far behind in school and get angry when I do badly. And…some of the older Jedi don’t like me cos they blame me for Obi-Wan…” Tears slid down Anakin’s face and his chin wobbled, “I didn’t ask to be a Jedi. I knew I was different, but I didn’t know how different and I know I have friends but sometimes they don’t understand me. I’m too different and too emotional.”

Qui-Gon took his time to respond, “I’m sorry that you feel like that, Anakin. It is true your circumstances were unusual, but you should not let that define you. Like you said, they have a limited understanding of the galaxy. They might be able to name all the systems, but they have not seen the grit and filth that pollutes the galaxy. In so many ways you are far more advanced than them, knowing ancient Jedi poetry won’t help them when they’re on a mission. But you have a sharp mind and can adapt to situations incredibly fast. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses. Yours have just been exposed to a greater extent, but by no means does that make you any less than anyone else.” Qui-Gon reached out and covered Anakin’s hands with his own, “as for being the Chosen One, it is a burden I am sure. But that is why I am here. I will guide you and help you become the Jedi you are destined to be.”

Anakin still looked troubled the corner of his mouth twitched then fell back to his slight frown, “They might be right about Obi-Wan.”

“No. That is on my shoulders.” Qui-Gon took his hands back and, needing something to do with them, wrapped them around his empty mug, “I was blinded…”

“By what?”

“Opportunity and what I thought to be the will of the Force. Although I realise it was not the Force which led me but ambition and greed. I now–” He froze.

He must have imagined that.

“Master?” Anakin sat up, he looked concerned.

Qui-Gon held up a trembling finger. His eyes stared straight ahead but he was not seeing, his gaze was turned inwards. A familiar presence was edging its way down his bond, “Obi-Wan” he spoke his Padawan’s name out loud. Anakin’s mouth dropped open, his eyes were wide.

“Master.”

Obi-Wan’s voice stole Qui-Gon’s breath away. How he had longed to hear it again. Qui-Gon snatched at the bond and gripped it tight, not wanting to risk losing him, “Obi-Wan!” he did not try to hide his relief and let it cascade down their connection. He needed Obi-Wan to know how much he missed him and how sorry he was, “Where–”

A flash of anger was snuffed out by Obi-Wan, he hesitated then answered, “I am sorry, but I have to do this.”

“Do what?” Qui-Gon was confused, what did he mean? “Obi-Wan tell me where you are, and I can come–”

“Don’t try and find me.” Obi-Wan paused, “I failed. I’m sorry.” His voice had betrayed no emotion, he and his signature seemed devoid of feeling.

Qui-Gon felt nauseous, why was there such a final tone to his voice, “Obi-Wan please wait. Tell me what’s going on!” He felt his Padawan’s presence fade he needed to tell him how Obi-Wan could never let him down, “Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon went to reach further down their bond when he suddenly wasn’t holding on to anything anymore. He couldn’t breathe. Qui-Gon watched as the remnants of their once strong bond float away into the Force. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. But he was struck by the emptiness, the enormous space that Obi-Wan left behind in his mind, his heart, his soul. He felt like he was staring at the door in the Theed Generator again. This time he had truly lost his Padawan.

“Master?” Anakin’s voice drew Qui-Gon out of his reverie. Just hearing that word made his heart clench in his chest. How he had just heard Obi-Wan say it seconds ago. Qui-Gon’s hope and heart had been dashed once again.

“I…” he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.

“Is Obi-Wan ok?”

Qui-Gon almost couldn’t bear to look at Anakin right now. His round blue eyes hoping that his master could provide good news, “Anakin…”

His Padawan knew. He seemed to collapse in on himself, “Did he do it? Did he cut the bond?” Qui-Gon could only nod his head. His lungs weren’t working properly, and his eyes swam with unshed tears, “I’m sorry Qui-Gon.”

Unused to having such an overflow of feelings Qui-Gon didn’t know how to answer. He’d failed. Again. He’d let Xanatos Fall and now he’d lost Obi-Wan. He let his head drop into his hands and finally the tears cascaded down his face. He heard Anakin move and then a solid warmth wrapped around his middle. Anakin buried his nose in Qui-Gon’s robe. How? How could he be such a terrible Master and still have Anakin’s faith in him? How could Qui-Gon have failed so spectacularly so many times? He reached a hand down to Anakin’s shoulder and gripped it tight.

A reminder that not all hope was lost.

“We will find him, Master.” Anakin spoke into the fabric.

Qui-Gon didn’t know what to say. By cutting the ties to them Obi-Wan was purposefully leaving them behind. Deliberately separating himself from the Jedi. What had happened to his little Padawan? And yet he still felt responsible for Obi-Wan. Still felt like his Master. He’d watched him grow up and become a young man. Helped him develop into a model Jedi, the perfect Padawan they’d called him. How Qui-Gon had glowed with pride when he’d heard that. He couldn’t let that go and abandon him to the cold fate of space. And yet he still did not reply to Anakin. What could he say? Give him false hope or crush the boy’s spirits. He kept quiet but pulled Anakin in a hug, hoping he would know what to do because right now Qui-Gon was completely directionless and hopelessly lost.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan jerked awake and cursed. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep. The hum of hyperspace and the ship’s gentle rock must have swept him away into a dreamless slumber. He sat up and checked the nav, he was only fifteen minutes out of Nar Shaddaa. He had been asleep for hours. The Sith wound on his back spasmed as he sat up and he had to stop moving to let it pass. He breathed out slowly trying to release the pain into the Force. It did not work.

Obi-Wan looked down at the ring on his hand and watched as the blue-white light of space played over it. He needed a plan for when he arrived on Nar Shaddaa. His first job was to find a ship. A different ship. The Scimitar, for all its fine tech, drew the eye and was hard to miss. He needed to get a plain ship so he could move unnoticed. He would also need money. An obvious answer jumped at him: bounty hunter. After the months with Maul his fighting skills would be near impossible for a non-Force sensitive to compete with. He knew his Jedi tracking skills would also be a valuable asset. In his heart Obi-Wan was still a good person, he didn’t want to cause unnecessary pain. If he was a bounty hunter he could get rid of some of the evil that clung to the galaxy. And Nar Shaddaa was the prime place to try and root out the worst the galaxy had to offer.

The nav pinged and Obi-Wan began to prepare to drop out of lightspeed. Soon stars and the yellow grid of the ecumenopolis filled his vision. Compared to Coruscant, whose city glowed softly and were laid out in strategic lines, Nar Shaddaa’s lights sprawled out from its epicentre. Thick yellow light shone into the darkness of space. It looked like the chaos that thrived on its surface. Obi-Wan flew through the atmosphere. The smog that polluted the moon’s air rose up to meet his ship and engulfed his vision. Grimacing Obi-Wan followed the coordinates to Hutta Town, the capital.

He flew low keeping to the shadows of the skyslums and imposing towers. He made sure to land the Scimitar a little further away from the main docking area of the ships, the smog and low light made it hard to see far ahead so he knew his ship would remain unseen for a short while. Long enough for him to leave it behind. Obi-Wan pulled the hood of the robe over his head and hunched his shoulders against any prying eyes. He made sure the ramp was closed then began walking towards the buildings. The landing zone was filled with ships of all sizes. Species from around the galaxy filled the narrow walkways between the vessels. Obi-Wan slipped between clusters of bandits, pirates, criminals, and Force knows what else.

He bumped shoulders with a Phindian, “‘scuse me.” He muttered.

“Sleemo. Who the hell do you think you are walking into me?” The Phindian hissed at him and went to grab his arm. Obi-Wan felt its hand grip his bicep. He instantly spun and punched the Phindian in his face who fell to the ground out cold.

“Don’t touch me.” Obi-Wan snarled, his face hidden by his black hood. Onlookers paused to watch the little spectacle but quickly moved on. Scuffles and fights were common here. Still Obi-Wan didn’t want to draw attention himself. He hurried away trying to blend in. He allowed himself to be caught up in the flow of bodies and drawing on his Padawan training made himself fade into the crowd. No one gave him a second glance.

Neon signs glowed high on the skyslums, their faint glow not making it to the lower levels. Thick smog and smoke hug in the air. Even if that didn’t clog the air, the buildings were too tall to see the sky. Alleyways were as dark and menacing as the main streets, tight huddles of people stood in the centre of the street dealing spice, information, and secrets. Speeders zoomed overhead, there was no order to their flight paths, debris from crashes littered the floor. As Obi-Wan walked down the street he saw at least five corpses bundled to the side of the road, scurriers and borcatu crawled on the bodies chewing through fabric to reach the flesh behind it. Shops were open-fronted, vendors called out their offers and insults to potential customers. Blue-green light illuminated the street making everyone look gaunt in its harsh light. Menace and treachery flowed through these streets, thick like its atmosphere. Obi-Wan wished he had some credits. He wouldn’t be able to get anything without credits.

Up ahead Obi-Wan saw a human bending forwards to talk to the Toydarian vendor, his arms rested on the countertop. On his waist was a little bag. Obi-Wan approached him and saw the top of the bag was open and several credits glinted at him.

“I’m not serving you again until you pay.” The vendor sounded irritated and exasperated.

“I’ll pay you back next time, you have my word.” The man’s smooth voice failed to placate the vendor

“Bantha shit. You haven’t paid me in weeks, Antor” Obi-Wan slowed and pretended to inspect some dreadful knock off Rodian vases as he listened to their conversation, “Every time you say you have no money, but why is it that I hear you’ve been getting a good slice form several spice trades? I’m not taking any more of your lies.”

Antor narrowed his eyes, “How do you know my business, Gelt?”

“You haven’t exactly been keeping it quiet. Now get out of my shop. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

Antor leant in closer more menacingly and flashed a small knife, “If you do not hand over the kriffing fruit right now, I’ll gut you where you stand.”

Obi-Wan had heard enough. He would feel no guilt if he took Antor’s credits. He pushed away from the stand he was at and calmly went to walk past the shop. Antor suddenly jerked forwards as he went to grab the Toydarian, cursing while he did so. When Obi-Wan was right behind him he used the Force to tug the bag of credits out of his belt and into his hand. It felt reassuringly heavy. Without pausing Obi-Wan carried on walking away.

“Hey! Who stole my credits?!” Antor shouted. Obi-Wan looked back, guilty people ignore something like that. Like the others on the street, however, he quickly returned back to what he was doing. In the shadow of his hood Obi-Wan smirked to himself, served that crick right. He needed to find a bar. Everyone’s tongues were looser in a tavern.

As he got deeper into the city the even darker side of the planet began to reveal itself. Gambling shops buzzed with energy and shouts of dismay or good fortune echoed from them. Spice dens had smoke curling from their entrances as patrons stumbled out, their eyes half open and glazed over. Many bodies were unconscious at the door, passed out from the drug. Obi-Wan saw a sickly Evocii sitting in a chair in a shop which sold prosthetic and mechanical limbs. The Evocii was watching as his arm was being tinkered with by a Sullustan.

A human walked up to Obi-Wan and pulled open his frayed and tattered robe to reveal pockets full of yellow and red tubes, “Do you wanna buy some death sticks?”

Obi-Wan grimaced, he’d seen what those addicted to the glowing sticks became. He wanted to use a Jedi Mind Trick on him but Obi-Wan knew it was too risky, with so many criminals around he would instantly become a target. However, it could only be useful to have some. One might never know when he would need bribery, “how much?”

The man’s greedy little eyes glistened, “two for thirty credits.”

“Thirty?” Obi-Wan made to leave., “you’re out of your mind.”

“Fine fine, how about twenty five?”

“How about five?”

“Have you been breathing fumes? That would be a huge loss for me.” The dealer’s voice was strained.

“I don’t care.” Obi-Wan let a threatening tone enter his words.

“Fifteen. That’s the lowest I’ll go.” The man sounded desperate.

“Ten.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, “Final.”

The dealer seemed to wrestle with himself then eventually nodded and held out a shaking hand. Obi-Wan placed the credits in his palm and took the outstretched death sticks. He felt revulsion as he held them but pocketed them nonetheless. He’s still paid too much in his opinion.

The Force was confusing here. The moon was foul and corrupt to its core. The Force felt as tainted as the air around him. The Dark Side had prospered here among the murder, anger, hate and greed. Obi-Wan made sure to block the rising temptation to fall into its grip. As though sensing the Darkness, the Sith scar on his back was more painful than normal. As if it fed on the rotten spirit of the moon. Two side streets split away from the main one, to his left he heard laughter and shouting, the Force told him to go there. His instincts were right. A large red neon sign flickered above the door with a couple letters missing. A sign of a fine establishment Obi-Wan thought. Customers spilled out into the street, many were staggering in a drunken haze. Obi-Wan adjusted his robe then pushed his way through the crowd.

Inside was packed. Bodies pressed him from all sides. Obi-Wan held his hand over his lightsaber completely covering it and gripped his credits in the other. He could not afford to lose either of them. He shoved his way to the bar. Music blared over the speakers, the bass vibrated in his chest. The bartop was sticky and unwashed, empty and broken glasses covered it. Obi-Wan saw a light purple Zabrak bartender at the other end gesturing at a Tholothian who shouted something undoubtably equally profane. The bartender picked up a near empty bottle and smashed it over the Tholothian’s head, the remaining liquor sprayed out onto onlookers. He fell backwards into a dark green Trandoshan behind him who in turn punched the Tholothian. He was knocked to the ground and the crowd stepped over him as a new customer filled his space.

Obi-Wan let his gaze roam across the room. The multicoloured lights flashed and the bass thumped deep in his chest but Obi-Wan let the Force brush all that away so he was focused on finding someone who looked like they had information.

“Maul?” Obi-Wan whipped his head around at the name to see the Zabrak staring right at him. The pounding music had almost drowned him out, “Back so soon?”

Obi-Wan pulled his hood off and the Zabrak drew his head back in surprise, “How do you know Maul?”

“Why do you have his robe?” The Zabrak deflected, suspicion clear in his eyes. A couple other customers were looking at Obi-Wan now.

“When was he last here?” Two can play at that game. He used the Force to add a slight persuasion to his words and sensed the Zabrak’s will succumb to his.

“About a year ago. Came here with some bounty hunters.” The Zabrak glanced back at his robe, “what happened to him? You working with him?”

“He’s dead.” Obi-Wan’s eyes bored deep into the Zabrak’s who looked unsure he’d heard him right. He saw out of the corner of his eye some of the other beings at the bar shifted with they heard him.

“Dead? How? He was a karking Sith.”

“That doesn’t concern you. I need information.” He laid the two death sticks on the bar.

The Zabrak considered Obi-Wan, “You’re new. I don’t trust new people.”

“It’s Nar Shaddaa. You can’t trust anyone.”

“True.” His eyes flicked over to the Trandoshan on the other side who was leaning forwards on the counter, the bartop looked like it was going to snap under the pressure. His reptilian eyes were locked on the bartender. The Zabrak pocketed the yellow and red tubes, snatched up a filthy glass and poured a shot of dark brown liquid in, “But something about you is off. Drink this and get out of my bar. No charge ‘cos of the death sticks. I have bad people in here all the time but you…you’re different.”

Obi-Wan picked up the glass but peered at the contents. He saw the same drink all along the bar, “What is it?”

“The finest Corellian wine.” The Zabrak gave him a withering stare, “Look I’m not the generous type but that’s free. Kriffing drink it and fuck off.”

Obi-Wan, not wanting to cause even more of a scene than he already had, shrugged and downed the drink. It burned his throat, but he stifled a cough. He was drawing too much attention here anyway. He gave the bartender a little nod as though grateful for his help and began pushing through the crush of bodies to the exit. What a waste of time that was.

The air outside was no less stifling and foul smelling than that inside the bar. He left the bar and turned right, might as well try the other road. As he walked, he felt someone walking close behind him. The Force whispered a warning. He expanded his awareness and knew he was being tailed. At the crossroads he changed his mind and went back up the original road he came. At least he knew where he was going a bit more that way. His pursuer copied his choice. Obi-Wan let his hand trail to his lightsaber. He needed to either get this person off his tail or kill him. No one would notice another body and there was no law enforcement on Nar Shaddaa. He was on his own. He saw an alley way coming up on his right and ducked down it. He burst into a run, his heart beating fast, to the end of the high walled corridor and turned to face whoever was following him. The Trandoshan from earlier at the bar blocked the entrance, his huge reptilian frame blocked out the meagre light from the street.

“What do you want?” Obi-Wan unclipped his lightsaber but did not ignite it.

“What happened to the Sith you were talking about?” The Trandoshan’s voice was deep. He took a step towards Obi-Wan.

“That’s my own business.” He switched on his lightsaber, the bright blue blade flooded the alleyway with light. The Trandoshan’s eyes glittered in the dark. Obi-Wan’s vision began to blur.

“A Jedi.” The Trandoshan’s voice stretched and warped like he was speaking in slow motion. Obi-Wan blinked heavily, “Now this is far better than I thought.”

Obi-Wan tried to lift his arms but they felt impossibly heavy, “What…” The Zabrak. The drink. Stang. Stupid Obi-Wan why did you drink it. It’s Nar Shaddaa. You can’t trust anyone. His own words floated back at him. His knees buckled and his fell to the floor. He felt the impact of his head striking the filthy ground but felt none of the pain from it, he was completely numb. He saw the foggy figure of the Trandoshan stand over him and a brilliant light in his hand. His lightsaber. Obi-wan tried to reach for it but his body didn’t respond to it.

“You will make my time on this kung-stained moon worth it, Jedi scum.”

“‘m no’ J’di” Obi-Wan slurred. For kriff’s sake. Was he being captured again?

The Trandoshan laughed, his voice echoing in Obi-Wan’s ears. He saw the reptile’s arm draw back but didn’t remember the punch. He was out when the fist struck him. Blood tricked out of the corner of his mouth. The laughter from the bar echoed in the narrow alleyway.

Chapter Text

Quin and Aayla sprinted down the street. They shoved past the few stragglers who were out this late in the night intent of catching the Rodian, Doda, they were pursuing.

“Surely this road comes to an end soon?” Quin muttered to himself.

“Getting tired, Master?” Aayla grinned at him, “letting yourself go.”

“I have to sacrifice my training to watch over you, pest.” Quin replied.

Aayla laughed as they increased their speed, Doda showed signs of slowing. Quickly the Jedi caught up to her. Quin reached out with the Force and Pushed the Rodian into the wall.

“Why didn’t you do that before she started running?” Aayla gripped Doda’s lapel and pressed her into the wall.

“Because Aayla…I didn’t think of it.” Quin huffed at Aayla’s smug face, “quit your self-righteousness and help me interrogate her.”

They turned their attention back to Doda who was very pale, “I…I don’t know anything about the blasters.”

“Padawan did we say anything about blasters?” Quin made his voice overly curious.

A pause. “No, Master. I don’t think we did.” Aayla copied his tone.

“Now why would you bring them up, if we haven’t mentioned them? It’s almost like you have something to hide from us.” Quin narrowed his eyes at the Rodian.

“But seeing as you were being so compliant just then, we won’t stop you. Please continue.” Aayla leaned harder making Doda cry out as Quin ignited his lightsaber and held it up to her chest.

“Ok ok wait. I know there’s going to be a trade next rotation. A new shipment is coming in.” Doda held her hands up which trembled from terror.

“Where?”

“Tyrena. There’s a hanger, its private owned. It’s near the Standard Spaceport. The owner and CorSec in that zone have been paid off.”

“Great!” Quin sounded triumphant and he deactivated his lightsaber

“That’s…that’s it?” Doda’s voice wavered.

“Yeah!” Quin and Aayla exchanged looks laughing, “that’s it.”

The Rodian started to chuckle, “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“You should have seen your face.” Aayla pointed and laughed. Doda relaxed. Quin burst into action. He snatched the Rodian’s chin and shoved her back as he came very close. Aayla switched on her lightsaber and held it directly beneath Doda’s throat.

“If you tell anyone about this little chat of ours, I’ll skin you alive. Got it?” Quin whispered at Doda who nodded and looked like she was about to pass out, “thank you for your help. It has been wonderful getting to know you, Doda.”

Quin and Aayla left the quivering Rodian behind them as they stepped back into the melee of Corellia’s street.

~~~

The next rotation Quin and Aayla were waiting outside the hanger of a CorSec officer. No wonder the authorities were willing to look away, the head of this zone was the one being paid off. They watched as a Corellian Corvette flew in from the Standard Spaceport area and vanished behind the high walls of the hanger. Wordlessly the Jedi began to make their way towards the hanger doors. They Force Cloaked themselves, rendering them invisible to the naked eye, and silently slipped through the security gate.

The ramp of the Corvette was already lowered. On the floor two Gamorreans stood behind a woman, her high-necked robe told them she was Mas Hirst. The organiser of the illegal weapons trade he and Aayla were following. They crept forwards as the ship’s crew began carrying crates of weapons disguised as bacta supplies.

Quin signalled to Aayla through their bond to take the left guard and that he would take the right. Together they leapt forwards revealing themselves. Quin stabbed the Gamorrean through the heart and held his lightsaber to Mas’s chest, “Well you’ve been a bitch to try and find.”

Mas looked surprised but she wiped her face blank, “How did you find me?”

“We are Jedi. It was the will of the Force.” Quin tried to sound mystical, “But you should work on not letting information slip out so easily. I say that like you’re going to have the chance. Think of it as something to ruminate over while you rot in prison.”

The ship’s crew gave them no trouble since they were not part of her organisation. They took control of the blasters and contacted the CorSec, also notifying them chief of the Academy of his subordinates’ corruption.

“I think that went well, don’t you?” Quin strode down the road, it was always a good feeling to get a job done neatly after weeks of living among the dregs of society.

Aayla rolled her eyes, “It could have been smoother. But, all things considered, yes I guess it went well.”

“I need a drink.” Quin spotted a bar and headed towards it.

“Why come back to this dumpster part of the city?” Aayla and Quin strode into the bar. It was a seedy place, the lights were low and the customers shot dark glances at each other. The smell of ciggara smoke clung to the air. It felt on the brink of a brawl. Quin’s favourite type of place, “and why do you always bring me to the most backwater bars around, Master?”

“To get to know a city you’ve got to go to its diviest of dive bars.” Quin jokingly waved a finger at Aayla who shoved it aside grinning, “That’s where you find out a place’s secrets.” Quin walked to the bar, “two of that red stuff.” The bartender, a Twi’lek poured him the drinks. He slapped some credits on the bar and walked over to Aayla who was sat in a booth with a good view of the whole room. He held up the glass to her, “to a quick take down.”

“A quick four-week mission.” Aayla clinked her glass against his and drank the liquor, “eugh that’s disgusting.” She shuddered, her lekku flattened against her back.

“I’ve had worse.”

She rolled her eyes, “of course you have.” She leant back against the chair, “how’s your side mission going? Any luck?”

Quin stared down into his empty glass and fiddled the rim, “I got nothing. It’s like he’s just vanished. No one knows squat.” Any free time he had managed to grab, Quin had scoured the Corellian underworld for news of Obi-Wan. He’d interrogated pirates, petty thieves, and gang leaders for Obi-Wan’s whereabouts. As every day passed the thought of not ever seeing his friend again strengthened.

“Stang.”

“I dunno what else to do. Now we’ve completed this mission I don’t know how long I can stay here before the Council get on my back.” He shook his head, “None of the others have had any luck either when they’ve been on missions.”

“I’m sorry, Master. I know how much you wanted to find him.”

Quin’s eyebrow twitched, “It’s a big galaxy.”

“Word travels fast. You never know what we could hear.”

Quin gave her a half smile, “Maybe.” He scratched the back of his neck and left his hand there, “I would have thought in our time undercover that we would have at least heard a whisper. Something.” He shook his head and let his hand drop with a thud to the table.

Quin stood up and pulled on his robe, “Well there’s no point staying here any longer than we need to. I might be able to do more back at the Temple.” Aayla copied her Master and soon they left the bar behind. Quin’s mood was sour, he hated the lack of intel on Obi-Wan, and hated how he’d achieved kriff all on this cesspit of a planet. The street was busy and they followed its current towards the centre. Quin bumped shoulders with a Tholothian. Instantly he saw a robed figure at a bar, music filled his ears and the sour smell of old sweat and alcohol filled his nostrils. Quin knew that figure. He blinked and the vision was gone.

“Follow that Tholothian.” He was already running to find him, he felt Aayla reach through the Force to find him too. Quin spotted the tendrils as the scales flashed in the sunlight and shoved aside everyone in his path. He used the Force to Pull the Tholothian towards him.

“I don’t have any credits.” His voice trembled and his eyes were wide with fear.

Quin pulled the Tholothian over to a side alley and shoved him against the wall, “I don’t give a karking kriff about credits. Where was that man you saw?”

Aayla caught up to them, “what did you see?”

“I saw him.” Quin saw Aayla’s eyes widen, “where was it?” He slammed the Tholothian against the wall harder. Quin saw he had a recent injury on the top of his head and a black eye.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’ve been to lots of places–”

“I cannot express how not in the mood I am for evading questions. Where did you see that man in the black robes?” Quin growled, his face centimetres from the Tholothian’s.

The Tholothian swallowed, “Nar Shaddaa.”

“Where on Nar Shaddaa?” Quin’s arms were trembling from the effort of not punching this snot faced moron in the face right now.

“A…a bar. I don’t remember the name but a Zabrak runs it. He’s called Parax.”

“When did you see the man?” Aayla asked, her voice equally as dangerous as Quin’s.

“Y-yesterday, I was at the bar and I saw him on the other side but…but I was arguing with Parax and I got in a fight. I don’t know where he went but when I came around he was gone.”

Quin held on a little longer making the Tholothian sweat. He let him go and pushed him back into the crowd, “I need to contact the others. They should know.”

Aayla nodded and they took off at a run in a new direction to their ship which was thankfully nearby.

“Why was he on Nar Shaddaa? It’s full of criminals.”

“I don’t know Aayla. When we get there we can ask him ourselves.” Quin tried to release his worry and anger into the Force, “He’d better still be there or I’m gonna kill him.”

~~~

Aayla was in the cockpit getting the engines running and coordinates in as Quin went to comm his friends. Bant beat him to it. He answered.

Siri spoke first, “Have you got anything, Bant?”

“Maul’s ship was spotted yesterday.” She sounded breathless but the connection was fuzzy. Her latest mission was on Scarif in the Outer Rim.

“Where?” Luminara asked.

“Nar Shaddaa.” Quin answered for Bant.

“How did you know, Quin?”

“My psychometry wizard powers.”

“When?” Siri sounded like she was going to rip Quin a new one.

“Literally ten minutes ago, Siri.” He didn’t try hard to hide his irritation, “I needed to be somewhere private to tell you.”

“Why is Maul on Nar Shaddaa?” Siri asked.

“I don’t–” Bant began.

“It’s not Maul.” Quin interjected, “It’s Obi-Wan.”

“Are you sure?” Bant’s voice was so soft that the static almost drowned her out.

“Yeah. It was him.” Quin wanted to make a joke about staring at his ginger mug for over 20 years but he couldn’t seem to bring it to his lips.

All three were silent.

Luminara spoke up first, “we have to tell Master Qui-Gon.”

“Tell him I’m heading there now, I should arrive in about two days. I’ll let him know what I get when I’m there.” Quin’s knee bounced as he spoke.

“I’m nearer than you Quin but I’m gonna be held up for at least a day as I need to finish up here with Master Fisto.” Bant carried on talking over Siri who sounded like she was going to tell Bant to get her ass to Nar Shaddaa, “I can’t leave, I’m leading this mission, but we will probably arrive around the same time Quin.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m nearly there, I might have to stop off to fuel up.”

“What will you do if he’s there?” Luminara asked the question no one really wanted to answer.

Quin wasn’t about to start thinking too hard, he needed to keep a clear head and him worrying about Obi-Wan or the Obi-Wan they might find would be as helpful to him right now as a womp rat in a lightsaber fight, “When we find him, I’m going to drag him back to the Temple and lock the doors behind him.”

No one laughed but it wasn’t meant to have been funny.

“‘Nara let us know what Qui-Gon says. I’m coming back from Paqualis so I’ll be able to help you.” Siri spoke up.

“Thanks Siri.” Luminara sounded relived, at least she would have help to try and slow Qui-Gon who would undoubtably try to leave for Nar Shaddaa as soon as he heard the news, “May the Force be with you all.”

Quin disconnected the call and walked through to Aayla. Hyperspace was visible through the transparisteel, “what’s the news?” Aayla spun round in her chair.

“Bant’s gonna meet us on Nar Shaddaa. ‘Nara and Siri are going to have to deal with Qui-Gon.”

Aayla sucked in a breath through her teeth, “stang that’s going to be an intense chat with him.”

“Thankfully he’s not our problem.” Quin sat in the co-pilots chair. He let his mind drift as he stared out into the bright tunnel of space. Throughout his life he’s struggled with anger. His emotions always ran too high and strong for most Jedi’s liking. He’d grown not to care what they thought but to had learnt to be mindful of his feelings. Right now, however, he could not deny that was feeling kriffing stressed. He had no real idea what he would be dealing with when he arrived at Nar Shaddaa, either the place, the people, or Obi-Wan. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand.

Obi-Wan had always been a good friend to Quin. To everyone really. That’s the sort of person Obi-Wan Kenobi was. Is. Kriff. He’s not dead Vos. Quin had grown up with Obi-Wan’s seemingly endless compassion and support, he’d listened to all Quin’s problems, been a surprisingly good wingman, and given him invaluable advice. But Quin knew how darkness could affect someone. Obi-Wan had had a stressful start to his Padawanship and Quin knew his fear of being cast aside had stayed with him. Obi-Wan wasn’t a person who opened up a lot, but Quin had become adept at reading his friend. He knew when he was hurting and when he needed support. Obi-Wan had never asked his friends for anything in return for his endless kindness. He rarely asked for help. He would rather let himself suffer so that others might feel better. He was the brightest person Quin knew. He radiated calm, empathy, and Light. Quin chewed his lip. He hadn’t told anyone but the man who he saw when he touched the Tholothian’s robe unsettled him. Even with the hood up Quin knew it was Obi-Wan. It looked like he had a beard now but what was most disconcerting was that black robe which hung over his slight frame and the Dark aura that clung to the air around him. He looked menacing. He did not look like the Obi-Wan Quin knew. He just hoped he arrived in time to pick up the pieces of his friend.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan came too with a pounding headache. Instinctively he reached for the Force to release the pain into it. There was nothing there. His foggy mind began to spiral. He was back with Maul. He hadn’t escaped. He was still trapped in that dark cell. Had the last months been a vision? A hallucination?

“Hey.” A voice called through his sluggish mind.

Obi-Wan squinted and found he was lying on concrete. He lifted his head but it swam so he let it drop back to the floor and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly trying to quell the nausea that thickened his throat. The hot, close air did not help.

“He’s awake.” The same voice spoke. It was a female’s voice.

A second voice grunted.

“What’s going on?” Obi-Wan rasped, his throat was dry. He went to rub his neck but his hand wrapped around a thick device that encircled his neck. A Force suppressing collar much like the one he’d worn on Bandomeer all those years ago, “Kriff.”

“What’s your name?”

“Obi-Wan.” He gritted his teeth and made himself sit up. Lying down felt vulnerable, especially without the Force to help him. He was in a cell, yet again. It was primitive with three concrete walls and a barred door which faced a wide corridor. All the down the hall were more cells like his all side by side and seemingly all occupied. His cell was the one at the end which faced the whole way down, that sent a shiver of concern through him. His cell had a tiny window up by the high ceiling and a thin shaft of light fell onto the straw covered floor. He saw he had once again been stripped own to his loose trousers and belt. His robe, tunic and boots were missing. He wasn’t alone in his cell either. A green female Twi’lek and a muscular red-skinned Devaronian sat at the other end of the cell, “Who’re you?”

The Twi’lek smiled at him, “I’m Na’vida. This is Jehr.” She gestured to the other cellmate who scowled at him.

“Where are we?” Obi-Wan pushed himself back to towards the wall and leant against it. The Sith blade scar ached horribly. He balled his hand into a fist and breathed through the pain. Without the Force to let it go it gripped his back causing the muscles around the scar to spasm.

“Wasskah, Trandosha’s moon. You’re Carloc’s newest fighter.” Na’vida replied.

“When did I get here? Who’s Carloc? What do you mean fighter?”

“Yesterday. The Trandoshan who took everyone here. You’re in Carloc’s fight ring. He runs it and brings his own…volunteers.” Her tone soured as she spoke.

Obi-Wan knew of the Trandoshan’s brutal sport of hunting victims of their moon. They were infamous for snatching unsuspecting victims form all over the galaxy to be forced to try and survive as they are pursued by the lizards, “A fight ring? That’s not very…typical?” Obi-Wan shifted, his leg straightened out in front of him, his other knee remained up by his chest.

“For someone who’s just been captured and learnt they’re prisoner in an underground fight ring you don’t seem very concerned.” The Devaronian, Jehr, spoke up. His voice was deep and gravelly.

“I’ve been in worse situations.” Obi-Wan said dismissively.

“I highly doubt–” Na’vida began.

“What happens here? How does it work?” Obi-Wan peered down the corridor. He saw a Gamorrean leant up against the bars of another cell, the eye Obi-Wan could see was puffed up and dark purple. A couple cells down a Chagrian stood with his arms hanging through the bars. There was very little noise apart from coughing and groans of pain.

“Carloc comes in, picks someone. They fight the other one he chose. There are two more cell blocks, so you never know who you’re gonna get. The fresh ones always fight nearly as soon as they’re brought in, so you’ll be going out there.” Na’vida studied him, “Jehr’s right you’re very calm. Normally the fresh ones cry, piss themselves, or pass out. Sometimes all three.”

“Maybe I’m just made out of tougher stuff than most.” Obi-Wan gave them a sarcastic smile, “what happens in the fights?” He needed to gain as much information as possible. He had no idea when this Carloc was going to return, he couldn’t afford to be on the back foot.

“It’ll spoil the surprise.” Na’vida joked without amusement.

“I’m not overly fond of surprises.” Obi-Wan grumbled. He turned his full attention to his cellmates. Na’vida looked tall. She had tucked her long limbs under her, she was knelt on the straw and her hands rested on her knees. She wore the traditional Twi’lek headdress and wrappings around her lekku. Well partially, Obi-Wan noticed her left lekku was mostly gone. Thick scar tissue and bandages bound the end of the appendage. Down her arms and on her face she had darker green striped markings. Her own eyes studied him just as closely. She had more scars on her arms and torso, she looked like she’d been in a fair few fights. Her clothes were old and dirty, her hareem pants had holes in and were covered in wonky sewn over patches. Obi-Wan turned his attention to Jehr. If Na’vida was tall, he was a giant. His horns stuck out from his skull and his ears were pulled back. His lips had been set in a snarl the moment Obi-Wan had opened his eyes. Devaronian males were notoriously hostile. Just Obi-Wan’s luck to be locked up with one. Similar to Na’vida, Jehr was littered with pale red scars that contrasted to the dark crimson hue of his skin, he had a bite mark on his massive right shoulder and an even larger, what looked like old burn on his left. He too was riddled with other scars. Like Obi-Wan he only wore clothes from his chest down. He had a thick belt which attached to a what looked like the bottom half of a long coat, the dark yellow tattered open front showed he wore lightweight trousers beneath and scratched tough looking boots. On his forearms metal vambraces were strapped tight.

“What are you staring at, kid?” Jehr hissed, his tongue flicked out between his teeth. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. He wasn’t intimidated by Jehr. They seemed to already mutually dislike each other.

“You’re one of those, aren’t you?” Na’vida gestured at his Force suppressant collar, “Jedi.”

“I was.” Obi-Wan tugged at the collar, his lips curling with distaste.

“What does a collar stop you being one?” she asked.

Obi-Wan had to suppress a withering stare. His patience, once infinite, now wore thin very fast, “No. This just stops me accessing the Force. But I haven’t been a Jedi for a while now.” He instinctively went to tug at his padawan braid but found only air. His hand dropped to his shoulder.

“Why? Did you leave?”

“Of a sort.”

The door slammed open at the end of the hallway. The Trandoshan who kidnapped him, Carloc he presumed, towered in the doorframe. Instantly all the creatures slunk into the shadows of their cells. Obi-Wan drew backwards too even though he knew he was about to be chosen for the fight. Carloc slowly walked up the corridor, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan who solidly held his gaze. His heavy boots echoed on the concrete.

“Get up.” Carloc hissed.

Obi-Wan stood, having learnt that rebelling against orders like that often gets you nowhere. He watched as Carloc opened the cell door and stepped inside. As he did, he passed through the slit of light, a glint caught Obi-Wan’s eye. His lightsaber was attached to Carloc’s belt. A wave of indignation and anger rose in him, “that’s mine.” He pointed at the weapon.

Carloc glanced down, “it was. Now it’s mine.”

“That’s not how it works.” Obi-Wan’s voice was cold, “If you use it you’ll chop your own hand off. So, by all means, have a stab at it.”

Carloc snarled, “shut it.” He moved quicker than Obi-Wan thought he could and he found himself in the Trandoshan’s grasp, “You’re fighting now. Let’s see if you Jedi are all talk or if you can actually scrap.”

Obi-Wan let himself be dragged down the hall and he heard Na’vida’s voice echo down the call, “Try not to die, Obi-Wan.”

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

~~~

Obi-Wan heard the howling, hooting and hollering spectators in the area all the way from the prep room. In the short couple of minutes he had before the current bout finished Obi-Wan had tried to meditate. Without the Force he had focused on his breathing, slowly he deepened and lengthened his breaths letting his mind become still and calm. The crowd roared. Presumably the fight was over. He opened his eyes and saw some thin rope on the ground.

Carloc had told him he’d be fighting without any weapons, “Need to see what you’re made of.” He’d leered at Obi-Wan who’d just looked mildly disgusted back at the Trandoshan.

“Who am I against?”

“You’ll see when you’re out there.” Carloc had walked out after that leaving Obi-Wan alone.

He reached down, picked up the rope and began wrapping it around his wrist and knuckles. Fist fights can ruin the fighter’s wrists and hands. If he was to be stuck here for a while he needed to preserve them. With the rope bound tight enough but still some room to have his wrists move he waited at the door to the arena. The sound of a crank gear turning had the door slowly lift up into the ceiling. He stepped through and into the dark tunnel that led to the brightly lit arena.

He could hear a voice announcing the new fighters, “the next fight will be good. Two volunteers, fresh and quaking in their boots!” the crowd roared with delight at the imminent suffering and promise of death.

The arena he walked out into was packed. Faces of all species stared down at him spitting curses. Obi-Wan could see bets being passed around between the onlookers. The arena was an oval shaped sunken pit with rusted metal walls in a cavernous area with an open roof. The space overhead was lined with treetops. The sand was covered in splotches of dark patches, remnants from the previous fights he guessed. In the seating on one of the long sides was a raised part. The largest and most ornate seat was filled by Carloc who stared at the pit hungrily. The ring announcer, a Besalisk, was still talking.

“Two humans.” The Besalisk pointed at Obi-Wan, “Force sensitive and a Jedi” despise coated the ring announcer’s words and the crowd hissed, a couple of objects flew at Obi-Wan who ducked as the crowd jeered. The Besalisk then pointed at the opposite side, “and a self-proclaimed master fighter. We will see about that.” The crowd were no kinder to Obi-Wan’s opponent. The man looked powerful; his arms alone were huge. He oozed confidence and looked very self-assured. Being punched by him would be like getting struck by a freighter. Obi-Wan could take him down in one hit.

“Fighters. Rules are, fight until one of you is dead or can’t rise.” Obi-Wan told himself he’s going for the latter, “anything goes.” He held up one of his four arms. The crowd was silent. The arm dropped and the crowd burst into sound. Obi-Wan couldn’t make out one word among the din but he wasn’t focused on them. His attention was completely on his opponent, who held his fists up to his face like a boxer. Without the Force to fully balance him, Obi-Wan felt a little off centre but he wouldn’t have need it anyway for this.

The other man approached slowly watching Obi-Wan stand completely still. He hadn’t moved since he walked into the centre of the ring, his arms were still at his side. To the onlookers he looked frozen by fear. The other man edged closer, his face twisted with agression, “Come on, runt. You gonna fight me or stand there like a scared little Porg?”

Obi-Wan let him get closer and closer. His lack of movement clearly pissed his opponent off. He got nearer and Obi-Wan saw his eyes shift to his torso. The other man struck out with a fist. Obi-Wan sidestepped it and punched the man in his temple. The man dropped to the floor out cold, his eyes partially rolled up into his head.

The crowd was stunned.

“Well that’s a first.” The Besalisk sounded mildly impressed over the microphone, “that might be the quickest defeat we’ve had!” He strode across the sand to lift Obi-Wan’s arm up, “the victor!” The crowd gave half a cheer; they were dissatisfied by the performance. Up in the central stand Carloc gave the Besalisk a subtle gesture, his finger lifted on his right hand, “But we can’t let him leave now after such a short show!” The crowd cried out in support of his statement. Obi-Wan turned to see the man’s body being dragged out the ring as the tunnel he came out of revealed the Gamorrean he saw with the swollen eye step out into the dappled light, “I think we need another display of his talents don’t you!” The crowd surged up, arms waving and gesturing in the air.

The Gamorrean was holding a long metal spear, “Do I get a weapon?” Obi-Wan asked the retreating Besalisk.

The four-armed creature turned around, a grin on its wide face and lowered his microphone, “after that little show I don’t think you need one, don’t you? Make this one last longer. You don’t want an angry crowd, if they try to kill you…” he didn’t need to finish the sentence. The implication was perfectly clear. “Standard rules.” His eyes never left Obi-Wan as his arm dropped to signal the start of the fight.

The crowd began to scream again. This time Obi-Wan could hear support for the Gamorrean who snarled at him and hefted the weapon. Obi-Wan softened his knees, dropped into a low stance and brought up his arms in front of his chest, his hands in loose fists. He kept a little distance between him and the advancing Gamorrean. Instantly his heart rate picked up in anticipation of the fight. He was very aware of the spear pointing right at him. Obi-Wan shifted side to side seeing if he could get behind the creature but the Gamorrean never let Obi-Wan move far. If he couldn’t go sideways, backwards was his next option. Obi-Wan let the creature believe it was leading him to the back wall, when he really wanted to be there. It lunged, forcing Obi-Wan closer to the high rusted walls. He waited, his muscles tense with anticipation. The next time the Gamorrean made a wide swipe meant to slice him in two, Obi-Wan turned and ran. He heard the Gamorrean lumber after him. The crowd jeered at his apparent cowardice. The wall came closer. With a leap Obi-Wan planted his foot on the wall and pushed upwards and back somersaulted over the creature’s head who tried to watch Obi-Wan, but its body was not designed for quick movement and it crashed into the wall. Obi-Wan landed, dashed forwards and ripped the spear out of the dazed Gamorrean’s grip. The crowd booed and cheered simultaneously.

Obi-Wan stepped back and watched his opponent slowly rise and realise that Obi-Wan held the weapon. He slowly began to spin the spear in front of his body, the end caught the sand spraying it into the air. Slowly Obi-Wan advanced watching the Gamorrean trying to pick out a weak spot. Soon it must have realised that brute force would be the only way past the blindingly quick spear. It charged at Obi-Wan, heavy head lowered and leading its attack. Obi-Wan grit his teeth and dipped down as he lowered the spearhead. The Gamorrean ran right onto the barbed point. It let out a stunned grunt as the spearhead passed through its heart. Obi-Wan leapt to the side and rolled to his feet as the body of the Gamorrean skidded to a halt a couple meters away and remained still.

The crowd was going wild. Some were hurling curses at him, others, looking equally violent, cheered his victory. Obi-Wan glanced at the Gamorrean not feeling sorry he killed it but he pitied its imprisonment.

“He’s done it again!” The Besalisk was back, “It seems there’s more than meets the eye to our little volunteer. And what show that was! I thought he was done for when he was backed up against the wall!”

Obi-Wan glared at Carloc, challenging him to send another volunteer as the Trandoshan so kindly called them. The reptile stood up and a near hush fell over the crowd.

“The Gamorrean was one of my best.” His hissed.

Obi-Wan snorted, “Of he was one of the best I dread to think what the worst look like.”

Carloc narrowed his eyes at him, “You think you beat my champion?”

“I killed a Sith, I can beat anyone.” Obi-Wan’s voice sliced like a lightsaber through the air. True silence fell through the room.

The Besalisk cleared his throat, “well I think I know who I’m betting to win next fight!” The tension broke to an uneasy chatter, “This little Sith-Killer!”

The crowd gained some of its momentum back and they began chanting, “Sith Killer! Sith Killer! Sith Killer!” It rose to a roar. Obi-Wan felt his stomach clench. He shouldn’t have said anything but seeing Carloc with his lightsaber on his hips like he won it, angered Obi-Wan to his core. If he had access to the Force he’d have the Trandoshan by its scaley throat. The Besalisk began talking about a new fight and a Weequay grabbed his arm. It led Obi-Wan down a side exit and back to his cell. Back in the cell block he saw all the prisoners were watching him; some fearful, some hostile. Clearly the chant of Sith Killer had been heard here.

“Already got a name for yourself, huh? Sith Killer?” Jehr looked as pissed as ever.

“Apparently so.” Obi-Wan walked to the opposite side of the cell to his cellmates.

“Stupid.”

“I didn’t ask for it.” Obi-Wan snapped as he sat down on the floor.

“You should have played it safe and kept your head down. Now you’re a target.” Jehr leant forwards and jabbed a finger at Obi-Wan, “How do you think Na’vida and myself have lasted this long?”

“Your wonderful bedside manner?”

“We kept our heads down.” Jehr shook his head, “You’re going to be dead in three weeks.”

“I doubt that.” Obi-Wan heaved a breath, he felt drained after the adrenaline rush from the fights.

“You do?”

“I’m not going to be here in three weeks.”

“Yea cos you’ll be dead.”

“No. I’ll be free.”

Jehr scoffed, “no one gets out of here. Even the dead are thrown in a pit just behind the arena.”

Obi-Wan lowered his voice and shuffled closer to his cellmates. He didn’t want the other prisoners to hear their conversation, “I am not some common bounty hunter. I am not just escaping. I am going to rip Carloc’s head off. I will burn this place to the ground.” Obi-Wan felt the hatred pour off him, Jehr and Na’vida must have sensed it for they seemed to watch him more intently. Obi-Wan began to formulate a plan, “I can’t do it by myself. I need help. I need you two.”

Na’vida and Jehr exchanged looks, “Look” she began, “if his plan gets us out–”

“It’ll get us killed. I haven’t fought to survive in this place for two years only to get killed in some half thought out plan.” Jehr hissed.

“Jehr, you said it yourself no one gets out of here. I’d rather die trying to escape then by getting offed in the ring. Wouldn’t you?” Na’vida’s eyes implored he see her reasoning. He hesitated for a moment, his ears pulled back against his skull.

“You’re right.” He looked at Obi-Wan, “if it doesn’t work, at least I tried to get out of this place.”

“It’s nice to know you two think you’re not going to make it out if here. Have a little faith.” Obi-Wan twitched his eyebrow. Jehr huffed a laugh. Progress.

Chapter Text

“Master Qui-Gon!” Luminara cursed under her breath and sped up trying to catch up with the loping strides of the tall Master, “You can’t just run off to the Outer Rim.” He ignored her. Luminara hoped Siri managed to get to Master Windu before Master Qui-Gon stole a ship and flew to Nar Shaddaa himself. She had barley told him the news of Obi-Wan when the Master grabbed a go bag by his door and marched out his apartment.

“Qui-Gon!” Mace Windu’s voice cut through the Temple’s quiet halls.

“Thank the Force.” Luminara muttered to herself and caught sight of Siri standing behind Master Windu. She approached Master Qui-Gon who had halted, for such a composed man his eyes looked rather wild.

“Where do you think you are going?” Master Windu sounded less than impressed. Luminara saw Siri stifle a smirk at Master Windu scolding Master Qui-Gon like he was a youngling caught wandering the halls when he should be in class.

“You know where.”

“Have you even stopped to think before you charged through Padawan Unduli?” Master Windu gestured at Luminara.

Master Qui-Gon cast a guilty look at her, “I can’t not go, Mace. He’s my Padawan.”

“And what about your current, actual Padawan?” At Master Windu’s words Master Qui-Gon finally seemed to let a thought past his single-minded focus of flying into space. His shoulders sagged, “I understand you want to find him, Qui-Gon. But you cannot let your attachment cloud your judgement.”

“I didn’t think.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“It’s the first time we’ve heard anything conclusive. It’s more than Plo found in his months out in the field.” The same hectic energy returned to Master Qui-Gon, his Force signature buzzed from it, “I am going. Padawan Unduli told me Master Fisto, Knight Vos and their Padawans will be there. I will not be on my own. And as for Anakin, he can come with me.”

“He’s not ready–”

“No one is ever ready. He will have to start going on missions in the next few years. He will be able to handle it.”

Master Windu looked incredulous, “He hasn’t even got his lightsaber yet!”

“You don’t need a lightsaber to go on a mission.” Master Qui-Gon retorted.

“I know that tone, Qui-Gon. You sounded the same when you vouched for Anakin and said you’d take him as your Padawan.” Mace made no gesture but Qui-Gon visibly flinched, “We know what happened after that.”

Luminara felt a flush of indignation at the Master for his treatment of Obi-Wan, she was quick to release it into the Force. There is no emotion, there is peace. She mentally recited to herself.

“Mace, the longer we stand here the greater the chance Obi-Wan might not be on Nar Shaddaa and then I’d…we’d lose him again.” Qui-Gon looked down the hall his urgency to leave was radiating from him.

“Where is Anakin now?” Siri spoke up, “why don’t you give him the chance to speak for himself?”

“He’s in a class.” Qui-Gon’s voice betrayed his shame at his emotions. He would have abandoned Anakin to save Obi-Wan without telling the boy, no doubt destroying his faith in his new Master, “I will summon him now.” Luminara watched him close his eyes, “he is coming.”

“You cannot take a child to Nar Shaddaa!” Mace was truly outraged now, “have you lost all grasp on reason?”

“I need Anakin to find Obi-Wan.”

“You were more than happy to fly off without him five minutes ago.” Siri pointed out.

“Padawan Tachi that’s enough.” Mace glared at her, “but she’s right. So often in the recent months you have let your judgement be swayed by your heart.”

Qui-Gon bristled under the accusation, “It has been a stressful time.”

“You are a Jedi Master, Qui-Gon, once considered for a Council seat. You should be able to handle yourself in these situations. How are you expecting Anakin to do so when you can barely control yourself?” Mace’s words echoed through the empty hall.

Qui-Gon had no answer to that.

Behind her Luminara heard the quick patter of feet and a brilliant presence came into her immediate awareness. Anakin dashed past her in a whirl of robes, “I’m here Master.” The boy glanced round at the small gathering, “What’s going on?”

“We have new information on Obi-Wan–” Qui-Gon began.

“When are we going?” Determination settled on Anakin’s face.

Luminara suppressed a tiny smile, this boy was clearly a product of Master Qui-Gon’s teaching. The Master too looked ever so slightly smug.

Mace looked pissed, “Padawan Skywalker, I advise against you going. I cannot stop you as you are under Master Qui-Gon’s tutelage but at least take a moment to consider my warning.”

Anakin frowned and was silent for a brief moment, “I have considered it. I’m going with Master Qui-Gon to find Obi-Wan.”

Master Windu shook his head, “Don’t think there will be no repercussions when you return. Your judgement and actions put more than yourself at risk Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head slightly then spun on his heel and strode down the hall towards to the hanger, Anakin jogged behind him.

“That went well.” Siri folded her arms over her chest.

“That lineage is more trouble than it’s worth.” Master Windu’s eyes were locked on the retreating figures.

“At least they will have back up on Nar Shaddaa.” Luminara offered.

“Yes because Quinlan Vos is known for his self-restraint and level head.” Master Windu muttered, “Hopefully Master Fisto should be able to control their wild mission.” Luminara and Siri exchanged glances, they had heard from Bant how missions with the Nautolan Master could become exciting very quickly, “who am I kidding? They are all a terrible influence on each other. As long as they all come back, we will deal with them later.” Master Windu turned to face Luminara and Siri, “if they report anything you must forward it to me. This rescue mission is getting out of control.”

“Yes, Master.” Luminara bowed.

They watched the Korun Master stride down the hall, “I think we should warn Quin and Bant that Anakin’s with him.” Siri spoke up.

“What was he thinking letting the child go with him to Nar Shaddaa. Master Windu is right, Master Qui-Gon is not thinking straight.” Luminara bit her lip.

Siri sucked in a long breath, “I think we are just seeing the real Qui-Gon now. I reckon Obi-Wan just kept him in check.” She and Luminara began walking to the Sublevel Nineteen training dojo.

“I hope Anakin stays safe. He’s so young and he’s not ready.”

“Qui-Gon is right about one thing. No one is ever ready. Being out in the real world is not something you can prepare for in the Temple.” Siri held the door to the Training dojo open for Luminara, “I reckon his time on Tatooine has made him more aware of the dangers in the galaxy than all the Initiates here.” The dojo covered the entire Sublevel. The end only visible due to the bright lights. Their steps echoed through the empty cavernous space. The only change in the grey walls was a long window that stretched down one side. Behind it was a viewing balcony which was currently empty.

They took off their outer robes and let them drop to the door by the entrance, “At least they will have a week to think about a plan on their way to Nar Shaddaa. Hopefully Quin and Bant can get the worst of the investigating done.” Luminara began stretching, her extreme flexibility allowed her to warm up quickly.

“Force willing.” Siri replied from the settings panel by the wall, “what should we do today? We did the Hoth setting last time, what about somewhere mountainous? Nalvage is a good one. And I’ve chosen tracker droids.”

“Sounds good. Yeah, I don’t want another cold one, it took me hours to get feeling back in my fingers from the Hoth setting.” Luminara called back from the handstand she was holding, gracefully she nimbly came out of it into a forward walkover to standing.

“I think you ‘re still ahead of me. I need 14 droids to win.” Siri punched in the settings for the simulation. Once satisfied she Force Jumped and landed next to her.

Instantly the lights changed to a light blue as the ground and walls changed to simulate a mountain side, the air cooled to a high-altitude chill. The drone of DZ-70 tracker droids grew steadily louder, they ignited their lightsabers and dropped into their preferred stances, “You’ve got to catch up before you can even think of overtaking me, Tachi.” Luminara grinned wickedly, “good luck with that.”

Siri narrowed her eyes, playful determination filled her gaze. Luminara laughed as the droids swarmed over the ridge.

Chapter Text

The first week was hard. There was no end to the fights. There was one going every hour of the moon’s rotation. The guards and audiences changed but Carloc was nearly always there watching over the fights. Obi-Wan’s resentment of the Trandoshan quickly developed into hatred. In nearly every fight Obi-Wan had to kill at least one other being. His first few fights have been designed so that Obi-Wan easily defeated his opponent. None of them stood a chance but they were all heavily armoured up or had several weapons while Obi-Wan was always empty handed and undefended by armour. The fight was never allowed to end until one of them was dead. Obi-Wan would always deal the final blow.

He tried not to kill them, but they never gave up. Obi-Wan had been forced to decapitate a Force sensitive young Mirialan male who had just one small tattoo on his chin and huge terrified eyes. Obi-Wan had felt sick as the head rolled away, the collar he had been wearing rested on the bloody sand. Obi-Wan had picked it up and gripped it tight in his hand. He had glared up at Carloc who’s mouth was twisted into a grin. He knew he was making a point. No matter how much he tried, how hard he fought to save his opponent, it would always end in death. Obi-Wan was being moulded into a killer once again. His hands had shook, the collar cut into his palm, he focused on the pain and tried to push away the surging hate and fury in his heart.

Each death ate at his soul, broke his heart more and hardened his resolve to get his vengeance. He was deep in a meditation, his tried to calm his mind but he only heard to harsh laugh of Maul, saw Carloc’s yellow eyes behind the darkness of his eyelids, and felt the spasm of the Sith scar in his back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jehr had asked breaking through his thoughts, “you do this at least once a day, every day.”

“Meditiation.” Obi-Wan muttered his eyes closed as he continued moving through the complex and difficult motions. He moved through the stabbing pain in his back trying to breathe it out. It wasn’t working. He kicked his feet to a handstand and spun out to delicately land on his feet which he gracefully combined with the next motion.

“I thought that was sitting still and making strange noises.” Jehr tried to sound disinterested but his voice betrayed how he was impressed with Obi-Wan’s physical feats.

“That’s one type.” Slightly irritated at being interrupted he stopped. Obi-Wan breathed heavily as he spoke, “that was Alchaka. Moving Mediation.”

“How can you meditate while moving so fast?” Na’vida asked, the end of her lek curled up.

“Normally you use it to strengthen your connection to the Force and you move quicker but” he pulled at the collar at his neck to make his point, “now it just helps me focus. Stationary mediation doesn’t work for me much anymore. Without the Force I just focus on my thoughts which is not what I need.”

“Do all Jedi do that?” she sat up showing her interest.

“Some of them. I used to prefer Meditation of Emptiness, the still one.” he added at their confused faces, “Every Jedi meditates. Everyone had their own method. There was this area in the Temple called the Room of a Thousand Fountains.” Obi-Wan sat on the floor his eyes far away and a soft smile on his lips as he pushed his sweaty hair from his face, “it was the most beautiful place on Coruscant. It was my favourite room in the Temple. Almost every plant in the galaxy was there, some grew all the way to the glass ceiling. There were pathways that wound through the room and then the fountains were enormous. The water is always flowing. It’s so peaceful and quiet. As soon as you go in you just feel at peace, the Force is so strong there. There would always be several Jedi in there either gardening or meditating.” Obi-Wan trailed off, nostalgia aching in his heart.

“You say you’re not a Jedi but you don’t sound like you hate them.” Na’vida curiously said, “why did you leave?”

“I don’t hate the Order. The Temple was my home for most of my life. But…it’s a place of peace and Light and hopefulness and I don’t feel I can call myself any of those things. Before I was brought here, I had been taken by a Sith.”

“The one you killed?” Jehr asked, he had lent in, his yellow eyes glowed slightly in the gloom.

Obi-Wan nodded, “he held me captive for…” he blew out his cheeks and looked at the ground, his heart was beating very fast. He could feel the pule in his fingertips, “I’m not even sure how long. It was at least three months at a rough guess.” He heard Na’vida quickly snatch a breath, “at first he tortured me, which is where all this” he gestured at the scars that littered his body, “came from. But he also messed with my head. I was already angry at Qui-Gon, my old Master, when I was taken so he used that against me. It made me hate my Master, even now when I think of him I get angry. I know it’s not rational but conditioning is hard to break. I struggle to control my emotions now.” He paused and touched behind her ear where his braid once was. His longer hair brushed his neck, “After all the things I’ve seen, said and done…I can’t go back to being a Jedi. It would be an affront to the Jedi and a lie to myself and I have gone against the Jedi Code so many times I can’t live by it anymore.”

“Why were you angry with this Qui-Gon?” Jehr inquired.

Obi-Wan heaved a great sigh and told them about how Qui-Gon cast him aside for Anakin and the battle at Theed. His cellmates looked stunned.

“So the guy that raised you chose someone else?” Na’vida looked incredulous. When Obi-Wan nodded slowly she scowled, “may spice salt his wounds” the tip of her lek jabbed into her back as she hissed the insult.

“I’m still angry at him.”

“Yeah that’s no vaping surprise.” Jehr looked nonplussed, “I get why you were so calm when you got here.”

“This is nothing compared to Maul.” He huffed a humourless laugh.

“Was that the Sith?”

“Yeah. In some way I am indebted to him. Without the weeks of sparring him I wouldn’t be able to get out of here. Honestly I think I would be dead already.” Obi-Wan let his head fall back against the wall. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. He hated that he was, in a twisted way, grateful for Maul.

“Don’t forget you have us, two Obi.” Na’vida touched his shoulder, she gave him a smile, “and we’re not bad in a scrap.”

“I know what you’re on about.” Jehr was staring intently at his hands as he picked, “I uh…” he swallowed, “I was a hatchet man for my father’s crime syndicate. Devaronian males don’t stay on Devaron, so my father’s organisation spanned many systems. I grew up on violence.” He looked up to see Obi-Wan and Na’vida watching him. He closed up again, “All I’m saying is I get where you’re coming from, kid.”

“That’s the most I’ve heard about you in all this time I’ve known you, Jehr.” Na’vida raised an eyebrow, “I don’t have a background like you two. I just was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She shrugged but her expression was still guarded.

“I didn’t mean to bring up memories. I’m sorry.” For a big guy Jehr looked small right now. Clearly he was not used to opening up to others.

“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” Na’vida’s voice was comforting.

Obi-Wan looked at his cellmates and returned her smile. These two people he knew he could trust with his life. Even without the Force he felt it was right.

~~~

The Weequay guard came to pick up the next fighter. It had walked to their cell but two more had followed it.

“This is new.” Obi-Wan muttered as he, Na’vida and Jehr were pulled down the corridor into the prep room.

“What is that echuta doing this time?” Na’vida leant against the wall, her arms crossed.

“Clearly one on one fights weren’t enough.” Jehr sat on the bench and watched Obi-Wan as he checked the rope that now lived around his forearms, “I wonder if we will get weapons. My last fight I had a vibroblade. I’ve got a feeling I could use one again.”

“I doubt it.” Obi-Wan tucked the end of the rope in and looked up to Jehr, “I never get weapons. Seeing as you’re stuck with me, I think you’re gonna get the same.”

“Stang.”

The clanking sound of the door made them rise. The tunnel was as dark as ever but the din from the crowd sounded louder and wilder. A terrible screeching roar cut through the audience’s noise. The trio slowly approached the arena and saw their opponent.

“How the kriffing hell did Carloc get his scaly fingers on a karking Rathtar.” Jehr looked stunned. Obi-Wan felt his stomach drop.

“We will need all the luck in the galaxy if we are going to survive this.” Na’vida hid her fear well, only the tip of her lek twitched.

“I don’t believe in luck.” Obi-Wan ignored Na’vida’s incredulous stare, “The Jedi Code says there is no death there is only the Force.” He gazed out at the monster in the arena.

“Yeah, well I don’t think the Force is going to help us much today, kid, unless you can magic that thing away in approximately five seconds.” Jehr pointed a finger at the Rathtar which was currently crawling up the side of the arena which had a cage over the sunken pit to stop the monster escaping. It did not stop the Rathtar’s tentacles reaching through the holes and grabbing crowd members. Those who were in its grasp were quickly swallowed, the crowd continued to scream their enthusiasm at the horrific sight. As long as it wasn’t them being eaten the beings in the mob didn’t care.

“I’m not a wizard.” He cast a disappointed glace at Jehr, “but I agree. I have a bad feeling about this.” Obi-Wan did not sound optimistic.

“Well let’s make the best out of a bad feeling.” Na’vida clapped him on the shoulder.

Obi-Wan’s heartrate picked up as he spied the Besalisk announcer stand up next to Carloc, far out of reach of the Rathtar, “The Rathtar is a famous beast, it has evolved with one purpose: killing.” The audience relished the thought of more brutality, “the volunteers against this beast will start with no weapons. But at the other side of the arena there are some. If they can survive getting to them then the only way this fight ends is with either all of them dead, or the Rathtar!” The crowd surged once again.

The trio were still safe in the mouth of the tunnel, the Rathtar had not seen them yet. Obi-Wan was glaring at Carloc and the Besalisk who dropped its arm with a savage grin.

“Best out of a bad feeling.” Obi-Wan muttered to himself and in one motion they sprinted out into the sand.

~~~

Instantly the Rathtar sensed them running towards it. It moved surprisingly quick for such a huge creature. Its great tentacles stretched and it rolled its great bulk closer to them with surprising speed.

“What’s the plan?” Na’vida shouted.

“Get the weapons, Jehr and I will distract it.” Obi-Wan yelled back as he leapt to side out of the way of the club like tentacle which crashed heavily onto the sand spraying it up into the air. Obi-Wan rolled out of the dive and dashed back into a sprint.

Jehr bellowed and ran straight at the monster and grabbed hold of one of the tentacles. He was quickly lifted off the ground. Obi-Wan called out his name but the Devaronian let go of the appendage right before it took him into its fang filled mouth. Jehr landed on the back of the beast and began stamping on and punching the bulbous light sensitive orbs which covered its body. The Rathtar screeched in pain. Its tentacles writhed around reaching for Jehr who was quickly ensnared in its grip. Obi-Wan ran alongside the monster to see Na’vida sprinting back; a spear in one hand, vibrosword in the other, what looked like two blades on a chain around her hips and a small vibroshiv in her mouth. She spotted Obi-Wan and tossed him the sword. He changed direction and leapt up the Rathtar’s side using its limbs to nimbly climb his way up. Out of the corner of hi eye he saw Na’vida started to distract the monster with the spear. Jehr was still in its grasp and was scratching, biting and pulling at anything he could grab.

“Jehr!” Obi-Wan shouted as he ducked to avoid a tentacle. He kept low and spun, his arm outstretched and cut clean through one of the thick tentacles holding Jehr. Again the monster shrieked in agony but it did not release Jehr, if anything it brought him closer to its open maw. Obi-Wan shouted a curse and frantically hacked at anything that came near him. He quickly became covered in thick sludgy black blood but finally Jehr dropped on the monster’s back next to Obi-Wan in a splatter of dismembered tentacles.

“Took your time.” Jehr grunted as took Obi-Wan offered arm to stand up.

“Next time let me know you’re about to leap at a huge monster before you do it.” Obi-Wan grinned back as he twirled the blade and went to drive it down into the flesh of the monster when it jerked suddenly. Obi-Wan and Jehr were jerked to the side.

“Jump!” Na’vida yelled at them, “It’s moving!” Sure enough the beast had tucked in its tentacles and was starting to roll towards her.

They leapt off the beast’s back and rolled out of the impact and carried on running away from it. The crowd roared at their near escape. The Rathtar’s attention had changed to the mob and it began climbing the walls snatching up the bystanders once more.

Jehr and Obi-Wan dashed to Na’vida, “what the kriffing hell were you thinking?” Her eyes were flashing with rage and exhilaration from the fight.

“I was distracting it!” Jehr retorted, “but I think we found a way to kill it. We need to get it stationary. The skin looked soft enough to pierce, if one of us gets on top of it again stab it in the back.”

“The other two need to keep the mouth end busy.” Obi-Wan nodded and wiped his face, his hand came away covered in its thick blood.

“You got any other weapons, ‘Vida?”

She handed him the chain linked blades and he grinned, “these will do perfectly.”

“You guys ready?” Obi-Wan watched as the Rathtar began to move towards them again, its hunger for revenge burning bright, “cos we don’t have a choice. GO!” Hefting the vibrosword in his hand he ran forwards, his eyes stayed on the beast’s mouth. Teeth seemed to spill from deep inside its throat. Obi-Wan skidded to a halt and swung the sword from his left hip to his right shoulder cutting through another tentacle. He spun smoothly and brought the sword in a graceful but deadly arc towards the other incoming appendages. To his right he saw Jehr spinning the blade chain at a blinding speed. The two blades partially sliced through the tentacles no doubt leaving the monster in terrible pain. On his left Na’vida was jabbing the spear at the Rathtar piercing its hide while ducking and avoiding the swinging limbs.

“Na’vida you need to get up there. You’re best for it.” Obi-Wan bellowed as he was forced backwards to avoid the sudden lurch of the beast towards him. He saw as she crouched to the floor and let herself go very still. The Rathtar didn’t seem to see her anymore and tis attacks on Obi-Wan and Jehr increased. Obi-Wan dispatched another limb but wasn’t quick enough to see the second one come from behind. He was thrown across the sand and landed winded on the ground.

“Kid!” Jehr called out as the Rathtar quickly advanced on Ob-Wan’s prone form. His lungs still hadn’t released but he forced himself to stand up. He drew on his energy reserves and held up his blade as the Rathar reared up in front of him, its shrill shriek stabbing at his ears…

And crashed down to the floor. Movement on the top of the beast’s unmoving body turned out to be Na’vida rising form her knees and she pulled the long spear out of the carcass. Blood was all the way up the length of the weapon with only a short piece at the tip not covered in the stuff. The crowd was going wild.

“Well that was unexpected!” The Besalisk’s voice echoed through the speakers, “Before that fight I would have said no one could beat a Rathtar!” The crowd were still screaming and shouting, limbs flailing in the air. Obi-Wan just stared at Carloc, his hands gripped in tight fists. The Trandoshan watched him back, his secondary eyelid slid smoothly over his reptilian eye. A sick grin peeled across his face like a half-healed wound being reopened. Obi-Wan’s whole body trembled with absolute hatred. He felt sick from the strength of his emotions, his vision went slightly fuzzy at the edges.

“Kid.” Jehr gently punched his shoulder, “Breathe.”

Obi-Wan snapped his eyes away and heaved in a gasp of air.

“You ok, Obi? Took a pretty big hit.” Na’vida asked as she wiped her hands on her trousers, the black goo stained the filthy fabric.

“I’m fine.” His tone made them exchange glances but they didn’t question him.

Obi-Wan shot one last look up at Carloc who was talking to the Besalisk. As the Weequay’s roughly grabbed their arms to take them back to the cells. As they walked away Obi-Wan made a promise to himself: I am going to tear his throat out and watch him bleed out at my feet. I am going to watch as he dies. By the Force I swear this. I swear he will die at my hands.

Chapter Text

“Kit.” Qui-Gon gripped his friend’s forearm, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wish it were on better circumstances.” The Nautolan led Qui-Gon and Anakin through the crowded landing area. The boy clung close to Qui-Gon’s side. The Force felt dirty and unkempt on Nar Shaddaa. The actions of the populace seemingly had affected the Force itself. If that is not telling about the moon, Qui-Gon did not know what is.

“Have you any luck in your time here?”

“Nothing substantial. We have several eyewitnesses who had seen a tall man in a black robe. But I doubt any of those are Obi-Wan.” As though to prove his point Kit gestured at a tight huddle of beings all wearing dark hooded robes, “I fear it will take longer for us to find anything more concrete.”

“Time we do not have.” Qui-Gon muttered.

The trio made their way through the packed streets. Thankfully they had been allowed to land on the higher levels. Weak sunlight still managed to filter through the heavy smog. Bright colours spilled out onto the skyway from the countless neon signs that flashed overhead. Anakin’s head never stayed still. Qui-Gon watched from the corner of his eye as he stared at everything and everyone. Shop fronts which sold everything from droid parts to medical supplies to jewellery; strange looking contraptions which puffed out thick grey smoke; a huddle of hooded beings, a strange filter covered where their faces should be leaving nothing but a vague impression of features, they seemed to float rather than touch the ground; food vendors who all had one hand on a weapon as they flashed grins to everyone who passed, rich smells wafted around and mixed to make a smell both enticing and revolting.

“Keep close to me, Anakin. Nowhere is safe here.” Qui-Gon gripped his Padawan’s shoulder. They allowed themselves to blend in. Soon no one gave the Jedi a second glance and they followed the flow of bodies through the street.

“It’s just up here. It goes through a square so make sure to keep a firm grip on your belongings. Pick pockets are the least of your worries here.” Kit warned as he wrapped his robe around his body tighter and picked up his pace. Anakin broke into a light jog to keep up with Qui-Gon’s long strides. Qui-Gon expanded his awareness into the Force and felt the mass of life that surrounded them. Like any other city it was crowded and bustling, never at rest. Unlike other cities, this one felt upside down. The criminal world usually kept out of sight and hidden under layers of city was out in the open and revelling in its visibility.

They came to the square. Five skyways converged at a huge pentagon. In this massive space overhead adverts flew on drones blaring their products in the open sky, small food carts clung to the edges hoping not to fall off the edge, skyslums crumbled next to high tech skyscrapers. There was a steady stream of traffic flying overhead in the thick smog. Holo-displays flickered as people walked right through them unbothered by the temptations on offer. They pushed through the crowd. Qui-Gon felt a warning through the Force and slipped his hand out of his robes in time to grab the wrist of a human female who was going for his pockets.

“You don’t want to do that.” Qui-Gon whispered to her and motioned his hand in front of her face as he used the Force on her mind which offered no resistance.

“I don’t want to do that.” She withdrew her hand and stared at Qui-Gon her eyes wide and unfocused.

“You want to go home and leave this moon.” He instructed.

“I want to go home and leave this moon.” She repeated back at him tonelessly.

“Good.” He strode away.

“What was that?” Anakin asked his voice full of wonder.

“A Jedi Mind Trick. The Force can be used to influence others. It is easy on some life forms, especially weak-minded ones.”

“Can I do that?”

“Not yet, young one. But I will teach you. It is not a skill to use often, however. That would be an abuse of our power.”

“Where are we going, Master?”

“We are meeting Master Fisto’s Padawan, Bant, and Knight Vos and his Padawan.”

“Are they here to help us find Obi-Wan?” He sounded hopeful. Qui-Gon hid his small smile in the shadow of his hood.

“Yes, Padawan. They want to find him much like we do.”

Kit led them to a building that reached high up into the sky, “Don’t ask Quinlan how he got this apartment.” Kit warned, “He had it when Bant and I arrived.”

“I already don’t want to know.” Qui-Gon cast a glance backwards over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. But here of Nar Shaddaa everyone is watching everyone at all times.

Inside purple lights illuminated the hallways Kit led them down until they got to a nondescript door. Muffled conversations could be heard down the corridor with the occasional shout from the inhabitants. Quinlan Vos opened the door and ushered them in quickly.

“Glad you made it here in one piece, Master Qui-Gon.” Bant smiled at him and bowed.

“Thankfully our journey was not eventful.” Qui-Gon tilted his head, “Anakin you remember Knight Vos and Padawan Eerin don’t you?” Subtly reminding him to greet his superiors.

“Hello.” Anakin gave a nervous smile to them and bowed quickly.

“I’m Aayla Secura. Quin’s Padawan.” The blue Twi’lek raised a hand and waved.

“Hello, Padawan Secura.” Anakin waved back quickly.

“Have you got any ideas where Obi-Wan could be?” Quinlan was never one for small talk, “we have checked out all the ports, while there’s no official security there are Watchers. They’re not trustworthy but they are paid to watch out for certain people by their employers. None of them saw someone matching Obi-Wan’s description. We’ve also gone to hotels, but no one uses them. It’s just telling everyone you’re from off world and you’re practically asking to be mugged.”

“Have you gone to any bars?” Anakin offered, “Watto always used to say that a bar is the best place to relax and find new work.”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at the child. He clearly had not moved on from his life on Tatooine and he wondered what Watto had been like after his time at the bars but in this very moment his advice was useful.

“We were going to them next.” Aayla answered, “but there are hundreds of bars. There’s no way we can look at all of them.”

“We can cross off the upper levels already.” Quinlan spoke up, “you need landing permission to get onto the higher levels. The lower ones are for everyone else so we should start there.”

“It’s a big moon. There are still dozens of landing platforms we need to cover.” Aayla folded her arms across her chest, her lekku curled at the tips.

“When you come into a new planet or moon where do you go first if you were not on a Jedi?” Kit spoke up, “The place where work is. The capital. Hutta Town would be my best guess as a start point. We can move out from there. We should move in groups to cover the most ground.”

“I cannot take Anakin into bars. Not only is he too young but it will not endanger him on this moon.” Qui-Gon placed a hand on his Padawan’s shoulder and swore Anakin felt taller than the other day.

“You shouldn’t have brought him then.” Knight Vos huffed. When Qui-Gon gave him an icy stare he replied, “you know how dangerous it is here. Now one of us will have to baby sit which makes our group even smaller.”

“Knight Vos” Qui-Gon’s voice was cold, “do not try to understand or assume my reasoning of bringing Anakin. It is well founded.”

Quinlan seemed to realise he had overstepped a line, “Apologies, Master Qui-Gon.” He ran a hand over his hair and puffed out his check, “I’m just tired and stressed from a week of searching on this damn moon.”

“I think we should begin our search at once.” Kit’s black eyes looked at each member in the group, “This moon is foul and I intend to get off it as quickly as possible.” He turned to Bant, “Padawan, you know Anakin already.”

“I am happy to remain here with Anakin, Master.” She bowed understanding Kit’s unasked question. Qui-Gon saw Anakin straighten up and he felt slightly more relaxed in the Force. Clearly he was uncomfortable being in a room with the unknown Jedi as he was undoubtably picking up their tension. Sometimes being so in tune with the Living Force had its downfalls.

Qui-Gon crouched down to Anakin’s eye level and found himself having to tilt his head slightly more to look at his Padawan. He most definitely had grown, “We will not be long, young one.”

Anakin nodded, “Can you tell me if you find anything.”

“Of course I will.”

“Promise?” His eyes were wide with earnest.

“I promise, Padawan mine.” Qui-Gon smiled.

“Keep all your things inside the folds in your tunic.” Anakin added quickly as Qui-Gon went to rise, “no one would try to reach that deep into your robes.”

Qui-Gon unclipped his lightsaber and slotted it into an accessible fold in his clothing, “thank you, Anakin.”

The boy shrugged but he couldn’t hide his warm happy glow which danced across their bond.

~~~

“We must go, Master Qui-Gon if we are to make it back here before the sun sets.” Quin waited at the door, his tattered robes slung across his broad shoulders. Anakin stood next to Bant as he watched the small group leave the apartment.

The door closed behind them with a click that didn’t sound very secure, “I don’t think that lock works.” He pointed to it.

“You don’t?” Bant asked but she didn’t look. She was bent over a small bag and pulled out a datapad.

Anakin drew his multitool which he always had stuck in his belt and marched to the door. He was right. The mechanism looked like it had been tampered with. The bolt which should keep the door closed was being held back by a short wire which had been wrapped around the rod so it only half shut. Anakin stuck out his tongue as he worked. It was a very easy task. As he worked to pull the wire out a Rodian walked past the open door and gave him a funny look. Anakin glared back until it had gone round the corner at the end of hall. Finally he managed to wiggle the restricting wire out and the bolt fell into its right place with a clunk. He stood back and shut the door which had a far more satisfying snap to its closing.

“All fixed?” Bant asked as she looked up when Anakin walked over to her.

“Yeah it was easy.”

“You have a good eye for that sort of thing. Mechanics and engineering.” She put the datapad on the seat beside her.

“Droids are easier than people sometimes.” Anakin hopped up on the seat next to her. He looked up at her. The red light from the sign outside the grimy window illuminated her face and made her salmon skin glow. He turned back to the view and watched as ships flew overhead, blurry and faint in the thick smoky atmosphere. On Coruscant when Anakin had been in the city it had been crowded but everyone seemed to respect each other’s boundaries. Even though he knew he had been kept to the nice upper levels Anakin couldn’t help but compare it to Nar Shaddaa where everyone moved in great herds, like Banthas. All the crowds pushed against each other rather than having any form of organisation. He tried to spot Qui-Gon and the other Jedi in the chaos.

“They’ll be ok Anakin.”

“I know. I just don’t like sitting here doing nothing.”

She considered him for a moment, “why don’t we practice our katas? Being cooped up on a ship stagnates the mind and the body.”

“Wizard! I’ve got really good at my katas. I’ve been practicing loads but Master Drallig says I need to be more patient.” Anakin frowned, “If I know the moves why can’t I go faster? In a fight I won’t be going slowly so surely I need to practice fast too.”

“In a fight you cannot rely purely on the Force and your speed. Instinct is your greatest ally in a fight.” Bant shifted so she was facing Anakin, “If you always go top speed your muscles can’t be trained to know every single motion on intricate detail. You might know speed, but you do not know control and finesse.” Anakin was about to interrupt, couldn’t a fast lightsaber still be better? “However, when you are able to perfectly perform your katas then you can go faster. Your body already knows the moves and the motions. It is like second nature. You do not think, you just do.”

Anakin pondered her words for a second, “it makes sense but it’s boring when its slow.”

Bant laughed, “You are not concentrating enough then if your mind is wandering.” She stood, “come let me show you.”

Anakin followed her to the middle of the room. She did not take out her lightsaber, “we will begin with the basic katas. Hopefully you will start to understand how much is truly involved in a kata. If you are doing them properly you should not be able to rush it.” She stepped her right foot backwards and held hands in front of her. Anakin copies her movement and went to shift into the next move, “no stay here.” He stopped and glanced over at her, “you are not doing it right.”

“Yeah I am. My feet are in the right place and my arms are up.”

“That might be so but you need to teach your muscles and your mind. You must feel everything working, feel the flow of energy as its circulates your body. Once you have understood and demonstrated it we can move to the next motion.”

Anakin struggled to understand her. He was in the right pose. He kept glancing over to her to make sure he was. He huffed in frustration, his arms were starting to ache and his legs were burning. She had not moved the entire time, “what am I doing wrong?” He finally caved and let his arms drop.

“Don’t come out of the position. I am not going to tell you. If you are always told the answers how will you learn?” She was infuriatingly patient.

Anakin scowled but stepped back into position. He took a moment to try and figure out how to understand his body. He closed his eyes and tried to tap into the Force to help him.

“No Force. This is just about you.”

Anakin wanted to stick his tongue out at her. He kept his eyes closed and withdrew from the Force. He sighed and shifted his leg as the muscle started to cramp. He shifted and stood straighter, instantly the movement felt lighter. He blinked his eyes open to see Bant smiling. He took her encouragement and tried to think what he had done. Quickly he found out he was resting in this position. He wasn’t truly using his muscles at all. Taking a deep breath Anakin pushed his arms out, squeezed hiss torso as strong as he could make it and tensed his legs. Suddenly his position felt whole. He grinned at Bant who nodded.

“Good. Do you see why you cannot rush this if you are doing it correctly?” when Anakin nodded, she smiled, “Now slowly transition to the next move.” Gracefully she shifted her weight forwards and pushed her arms to the sides. Anakin let out a long breath and began to try to copy her.

Chapter Text

Qui-Gon followed Kit, Quinlan and Aayla Secura to the repulsorcraft train station. The press from the crowd did not ease through their journey. Feeling his lightsaber tucked in his tunic was comforting. At least he could feel that always, he sent Anakin a little pulse of gratitude through their bond. The four Jedi slipped in a graffiti covered carriage. Inside most of the seats were taken. Many had been ripped out of their fastenings, the remaining ones looked so old they would undoubtably break when sat on a little too hard. Qui-Gon gripped the pole next to him as the vehicle pulled away from the station. The bright lights flashed as they sped through the city moon but they grew fainter and fewer as they sped deeper into the moon’s city. A voice announced the next station name in five different languages, the speaker was so scratchy it was difficult to tell what dialects they were let alone understand what was being said.

Kit made to move and Qui-Gon fell into step behind him, he did not like being so on the back foot in a new and such a dangerous place but at least he had the others to guide him. Hutta Town was the epicentre of the bustling moon. Down here even on the lowest levels enormous skyscrapers towered over them, their higher levels faded into the smog. None of them had names on them. Nar Shaddaa was known for its lack of regulations which had led to an explosion of technological advancements being discovered here. With little to no restrictions anything could be experimented, tested, or created with no fear of being hindered by ethical limitations. Qui-Gon dreaded what was being done behind the grimy windows that looked down over Hutta Town.

“This will be our rendezvous point.” Kit took point since he was a Master and knew where the hell he was on this blasted moon, “Be no longer than five hours. That should give us time to get back to the apartment before the sun sets. That’s when it gets really dangerous”

“Ah yeah, ‘cos being here now is so safe. It’s like trying to give a Reek a scratch on its chin.” Quinlan rolled his eyes, a grin on his face.

“Just be here.” Kit pulled his hood up higher to over his face more, “stick close together you two.”

“Yes Master.” They both tilted their heads then turned and merged into the ever shifting herd of bodies.

Qui-Gon and Kit walked in the other direction, “Quinlan said that when he saw his vision Obi-Wan was wearing a black robe and was at a bar run by Zabrak called Parax. We have not yet been able to find it but we thought we would wait until you were with us.” Kit’s eyes were locked on the people around him.

“If you know where he was how come you haven’t asked people where that bar is?”

“We have. Believe it or not few are willing to talk to a Jedi.” He glanced at Qui-Gon a twinkle in his eye, “But those who did talk gave us nothing. This planet is packed with information for sale but at the same time everyone knows nothing. Names are rarely given out. At least real names. Parax is most likely a false name.”

“In a place like Nar Shaddaa it’s probably best if you remain anonymous.” Qui-Gon agreed as he squeezed himself up to the wall when a pack of Zygerrian’s prowled past them, “then again no one will know if you are gone.”

“It’s the ones who stay here and manage to survive are the really dangerous ones. They either have extraordinary power or they are virtually unkillable.” Kit pointed at a flickering neon sign ahead, “our first one of the day.”

Seven bars later and they were no closer to finding anything about Obi-Wan or the mysterious Parax. Virtually every bartender and patron had shoved them out when they started asking questions. It wasn’t that they were Jedi, they had been sure to hide their lightsabers and to blend in but any whiff of questions seemed enough to frighten most.

Qui-Gon had to really concentrate on not losing his temper when the eighth bar seemed to be going the same way as the last ones, “All we want to know is where to find a bar.” His voice was tight from the repressed emotions.

The bartender, a female Nikto shook her head, “I don’t want to get involved in anything. Get out. I’m not having more of Yaresh’s goons in here and trashing my bar.”

“We’re not–” Kit began

“I don’t kriffing care.” She scowled, “get out of here. Go find your Parax elsewhere.” She pointed at the door.

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth and spun around and pushed for the exit. Outside he turned to see Kit step out the door brushing his robes off. Being in the depths of the city made them feel dirty even without touching any grime. It seems to make up most of the foul air, “At this rate we will never find Parax.” Qui-Gon shook his head and ran a hand through his beard.

“We should head back. Our time is nearly up.” Kit and Qui-Gon made to walk back to the repulsorcraft.

“Why you lookin’ for Parax?” Kit and Qui-Gon turned back to see a Triog leaning against the wall by the bar they just left, both its heads staring directly at them.

“Do you know him?” Qui-Gon took a step closer.

“Maybe. Why do you want to find him?” One of the heads asked

“So you do know him.” Kit crossed his arms.

“Nice going Ereth.” The other head cast a despairing look at the one who spoke.

“Sorry Gereth.” Ereth looked sufficiently shamefaced.

Gereth looked back at the Jedi, “Yeah we know him.”

“Care to tell us where he is?” Qui-Gon was grateful for all his life having been dedicated to controlling and releasing his emotions into the Force. Without it he would undoubtably by throttling both heads right now.

“Why do you want to know where he is?” Ereth asked again.

“We are looking for someone.” Kit said.

“Good luck finding them here.” Ereth scoffed.

“His bar is just left off Centre Street. Can’t miss it.” Gereth answered.

“Can’t miss it if you know where to look.” Ereth waggled a finger with a sly grin.

“I presume you’ll be wanting something for the information?” Kit questioned, his expression readable only to Qui-Gon who had known him so long he could see the slight uncertainty on his friends features.

“Only credits.” They both answered.

“If your price is so small how can we trust your information is correct?” Qui-Gon asked as Kit tossed them several credits. He also reached out with the Force to see if he could sense any deceit from Gereth and Ereth. However, it was difficult to tell, so many lies had made the Force foggy and unclear.

The Triog caught the metal bars, “You don’t.” The heads grinned as it walked away down a side street, “lovely doing business with you two!”

“It’s more information than we had five minutes ago, Qui-Gon.” Kit mist have sensed Qui-Gon’s displeasure with the interaction, “beggars can’t be choosers.”

“No but beggars can be handed false credits.” Qui-Gon sighed as they began their trek back to the station. It was far too close to dark to try and find this mysterious bar.

“The Force will show us the way.” Kit tried to sound encouraging, “After all, isn’t that your philosophy?”

“Normally yes. But here everything is too layered and falsely presented. As you can sense the Force is clouded, murky even. I put my faith in the Force but here I am also mindful of the effect this moon can have on it.” They walked back through the streets, as the shadows darkened even more shifty and dangerous beings emerged from their depths and crawled the thin walkways of Hutta Town. They could not have reached the station quick enough. It was a relief to step on the repulorcraft and be zipped up to the higher levels. If he felt safe at all on Nad Shaddaa his sense of danger must be terribly off.

~~~

“You’d think ‘left off centre street’ would be vague enough for two Jedi Masters to say hey maybe this two headed rando might not be telling the truth.” Quin grumbled as he and Aayla began their, what felt like, five thousandth search through Nar Shaddaa’s under underbelly. They pulled their hoods low over their faces against the pelting freezing rain.

“It would have seemed helpful.” Aayla tried to reason with him.

“Yeah until they realised that Centre street goes all the way through Hutta Town and has approximately thirty five million kriffing side streets.” Quin waved his arm down the road they were walking on which stretched on and on until the dirty air swallowed the rest of it from their sight. It had been four days since Qui-Gon and Kit had returned bearing the news of Parax’s apparent location. Four long fruitless days of nothing but defensive bartenders and drunk patrons.

“We’re not going to find the bar any quicker if we stand here moaning about it.” She cast Quin a cheeky glance, “And if I remember correctly didn’t you say something like ‘to get to know a city you’ve got to go to its diviest of dive bars cos that’s where you find all the secrets’” she lowered her voice and waved a finger in his face.

“Shut it, Padawan.” Quin shoved her but couldn’t hold back a smile of his own.

“Ooh pulling out the big guns. Calling me Padawan, must be serious.” Aayla’s laugh rang out in the street. It sounded quite alien in the subdued area.

She is infuriating Quin thought but she’s right. Infuriating because she’s right

“I’m always right, Quin.”

“Get out of my head, Secura.” He tried and failed to scowl at her. They approached the next side street. This time there was one also going right. Shouts of drunken laughter and the thrum of music could be heard from the left street, the same sounds that have followed the Jedi through their week and a half of searching. They walked around the corner to see a bar, its red sign flickered in the thin late afternoon light, there were a few groups smoking death sticks and chatted in the blue cloud of smoke protected by the rain under the overhang from the story above the bar. It looked busy considering it was not yet night. Then again what else have the inhabitants of this Force forsaken moon got to look forwards to except the promise of being smashed by the end of every day. Why not start early?

Quin followed Aayla as they walked past a staggering Toydarian; its wings fluttered but that only made it lose what little balance it had. It fell facedown into a puddle with a grunt. Once inside they peeled back their drenched hoods and looked around. Music pounded from the speakers, the patrons danced and drank to the beat. Quin spotted the bar at the back of the room; there the crowd was densest. He reached to Aayla through the Force and pointed at it when she looked at him. There was little room to move, keeping close together they pushed towards the bar. After digging their elbows in enough ribs, they were at the countertop. The bartender was at the other end pouring shots of dark blue Safire Scotch. When he handed the drinks to the customer he turned around, Quin used the Force to make the bartender see them. Wiping his hands on his filthy towel at his waist. the Zabrak approached them.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“Information.” Quin leant forwards on the bar, “Where can we find Parax?”

The bartender blinked; his light red skin paled slightly under the flashing lights. He grabbed a glass and started wiping the edge, he only made the encrusted dirt on the glass smudge even more, “What do you want with him?”

“Just want to find someone.”

“We have hundreds come in here every day. Why would he remember one person?” The Zabrak held up the glass to the light as though inspecting it. It only highlighted the scratches and grime on it.

“Just tell us where Parax is.” Quin snarled.

The Zabrak bristled, “I’ve had enough of you. Get out.”

“Todrog, that’s enough.” Another Zabrak stepped out of a door behind the bar, “go make more drinks and be quick about it. They’re practically sober at his point. Kriffing hurry up.” Todrog cast one last loathing filled look back at Quin then returned to pouring drinks. The older Zabrak shook his head and rested on elbow on the bartop, “I’m Parax. What do you want?”

“We need to find someone.” Aayla answered, sensing Quin’s ever shortening temper and frustration from the repetitive questions, “apparently you saw him a couple weeks ago.”

“I might remember them. I don’t give my real name to many people.” He pushed himself off the bar, lifted up a section of the counter and let it slam closed behind him, “follow me, this isn’t the place for private conversations.” Quin and Aayla followed Parax as he cut through the crowd. They went through a door and stepped into the back street behind the bar. Parax pulled out a death stick and lit it, he took a long pull on it as he let his gaze wander over the two Jedi, “who are you looking for?” the acrid smoke fell from his mouth as he spoke.

“He would have been here a few weeks ago. Human. Kinda tall, about this high” Quin held a hand just below his ear, “beard, wore a black robe.”

Parax took another inhale, “Yeah I remember him. He wasn’t who I thought he was. Didn’t get a name.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Can’t tell you that.” Parax shook his head and blew another trail of smoke into the air.

Quin glanced at Aayla who subtly nodded, together they concentrated the Force on the Zabrak’s mind. It did not take much to break through the barriers. Quin took the tone used for Mind Persuasion and waved his hand between him and Parax, “you will tell us where he is.”

Parax’s face went slack and his voice became monotone, “He isn’t on Nar Shaddaa anymore.”

“How do you know?”

“Gave him a spiked drink. I do business with Carloc, a Trandoshan who runs several fight rings in Hutt Space. He pays me to pick out new volunteers for him.” Parax’s eyes were slightly unfocused.

Quin was about to stop using the Force on Parax when Aayla quickly jumped in with her own question, “You said you thought he was someone else. Who?”

“Darth Maul.” The burning end of the death stick was getting close to his fingers, Parax did not seem to notice.

“Darth Maul? He must be the Sith we’re looking for.” Quin whispered to Aayla who nodded as she continued her question.

“Was Maul with the other guy?” Aayla looked unsettled but her voice remined steady.

Parax shook his head, “the guy was alone. Said Maul’s dead. I think he killed him. I know a killer when I see one. That’s why I gave him to Carloc.”

Both Quin and Aayla began to pull away from Parax’s mind. The Zabrak blinked as clarity came back to his eyes. He looked slightly confused as those who have been under Force Persuasion often do.

“Thanks for your help, Parax.” Quin pulled his hood up, “you’ve been most helpful.”

“Uh…yeah.” Parax flinched when the death stick burned his hand, only the butt remained, “wait? What did I say?”

“You should lay off the death sticks.” Aayla said sweetly as she and Quin began walking away, “I heard they make you forget stuff.” She waggled her fingers at him then they turned the corner at the end of the alley and re-joined the street.

“Kriff.” Aayla dropped her saccharine façade as they began walking back to the station.

Quin rubbed a hand on his face, “This just got way more complicated.”

“We should have kept asking him more. Like who’s Carloc?” Aayla chewed her lip.

“We couldn’t have kept going, Aayla, you know that. While I wanted to, you have to remember not to overstep the boundaries. While what we did was for the greater good and all that, we can’t abuse it and potentially leave him brain dead in the street. Especially with both of us in his head at the same time.” Quin sighed, “I need to tell Kit and Qui-Gon about this. We need to meet and discuss this with them.” He put in the frequencies of the Masters and waited for them to answer.

“Quinlan do you have anything?” Master Kit picked up.

“Yeah, meet back at the apartment, I’d rather not talk about this is open air. Aayla and I are heading back now.”

“Understood.” Kit ended the call.

“Quinlan.” Quin muttered to himself and rolled his eyes at both Master’s refusals to stop using his full name, “How many times have I asked?”

He and Aayla didn’t speak much on their way back. Quin felt that same pressing anxiety as when he first saw the vision on Correlia. The possibility that Obi-Wan had killed the Sith – Maul he reminded himself – made Quin feel conflicted. One the one hand it had meant that the Sith was dead. Hooray, one less bad guy in the galaxy. But then again no one had killed a Sith in a thousand years. If Obi-Wan had actually done it how had he managed it? Obi-Wan had always been a skilled fighter but Quin was unsure if his friend would have been able to best a Sith alone. What had he been doing all this time? Had he been with the Sith for all these months? Had he killed the Sith right at the start and been rogue the entire time? He had been flying The Scimitar which, according to Bant’s information, was Maul’s own ship. Had he stolen it after he killed the Sith? Had Obi-Wan even killed him or was Quin just taking Parax’s words as truth and letting his panic get away from him? Quin sighed. He was tired after months of nothing and now weeks of searching. It had built up quickly. He just wanted to see Obi-Wan with his own eyes and give him a hug. He missed the solid comfort of his friend, missed his laugh and the twinkle in his eyes when they sparred, missed the energy he brought to their group. It felt disjointed without him there.

The voice crackled over the speaker as the turbocraft entered the station. Quin and Aayla stepped into the carriage and he let the scratched glass hide the lower level from him as they slid shut and pulled away from the station.

Chapter Text

Qui-Gon had been staring out of the window ever since Quin had told all they had found out from Parax. His arms were folded tight on his chest, the only visible display of his emotions. Bant watched him from the corner of her eye.

“Are we really going to take the word of a seedy bartender as truth?” Bant asked. She was sitting on the couch, her elbows rested in her knees. Anakin sat cross legged next to her, his eyes wide, unconsciously he fiddled with his Padawan braid, “I know he was under Force Persuasion, but it still might not be true.” Even as she spoke, she understood that she was trying to convince herself that it can’t be true. That Obi-Wan hasn’t changed, that he is still the same bright person she once knew. That he hasn’t changed and been through more trauma than anyone in this room can really understand.

“All we need to do is find Carloc. If we find him, we can most likely find Obi-Wan.” Aayla answered from where she leant against the wall.

“Didn’t Parax say that Carloc has several rings? How can we be sure which one to go to?” Bant asked.

“Grakkus the Hutt’s Palace has a gladiatorial arena here. If we can get in there will undoubtably be word of a Jedi. If Obi-Wan still had his lightsaber then people will talk about him.” Master Kisto’s voice was neutral but his eyes betrayed his concern.

Quin stood from where he had been sitting on the floor, “or a Sith killer. I’m sure wherever he is that fight ring will boast about that. It would draw in the most attention.”

“Can we not talk about Obi-Wan like he’s just something to be shown off.” Bant pleaded, head in her hands. She had a headache growing.

“Padawan, we must remain objective about this.” Her Master crouched in front of her, “We cannot let our feelings stop us from achieving our goal. Sometimes to find someone we must think like the captor.”

“I know, but just hearing you all talk about him like he’s an object…like he’s”

“A slave.” Anakin spoke for the first time since the four had returned. Everyone except Qui-Gon turned to look at him, “Quin’s right. Slave owners on Tatooine want to show off if they have a good one. It’s like the better slaves you had the more respect you got and stuff.”

“If we find the boasting guy, we find Obi-Wan.” Quin summarised. Anakin nodded.

“Should we even go if we find out where he is?” Qui-Gon’s question stunned everyone. Bant froze.

“What?” Quin sounded gobsmacked. He slowly turned his head to look at the Jedi Master.

“I have thought about it. Obi-Wan clearly had a chance to come home to the Temple and yet he chose to come here. He…severed his bond with me.” Bant gasped, that shocked her to her core. Qui-Gon finally turned away from the window, “All I’m saying is Obi-Wan has made no effort to come back or to contact the Council, his friends, or anyone in the Temple. I wonder if we might do more harm than good if we go to him.”

“Qui-Gon–” Master Kit began.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bant interrupted him as she stood up, her emotions swelled within her, “I know you have suffered all this time Obi-Wan has been gone. I understand that, but surely you of all people would want to bring him home? Haven’t you thought that maybe Obi-Wan hasn’t come home because he feels he might be rejected or that he might be convincing himself that he isn’t worthy of coming home? We have no idea what he’s gone through and you suddenly decide now, after months of searching, that it might not be a good idea?” She took a steadying breath, “I would have thought the last person to even consider giving up on Obi-Wan would be you. The fact you are doing so…” Part of her brain screamed at her to stop talking, “…all I will say is I now understand better why he doubted your affection and trust in him.” The temperate in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. Bant’s heart was beating very fast, she’d never spoken to a Master like that before, so out of turn. But she could not let Qui-Gon get away with saying something as horrible as that.

Qui-Gon stared at her, his gaze was piercing but she held it. He did not move for at least a minute, it seemed to last forever. Bant was about to break the stare when he finally blinked. The indignation that initially possessed his whole being vanished and his shoulders dropped. His stature loosened, “Obi-Wan always doubted my faith in him. Often we did not see eye to eye. He and I are so different.” He sighed and let his eyes drop to the ground, “I allowed the thought of not finding him to settle in head because…I am afraid.” He dragged his gaze back up to Bant’s, “I am afraid of what he will think of me, what I will think of him. I know he will not be the same. I know he has been afraid. I know he has been hurt. But when he severed our bond I knew his fear and anger has been left too long to be released. He didn’t have me there to help him, to guide him. I fear he will be too far away for me to reach. I am afraid of facing the one I abandoned and failed to protect.” Qui-Gon looked worn out, his whole being fell in on itself.

Bant didn’t know what to say. In reality Qui-Gon had spoken the truth everyone was harbouring. What if Obi-Wan doesn’t want to come back? What if he was unrecognisable? Bant walked over to Qui-Gon and gently took his hand, “I know that nothing I say will be enough, but I do know that Obi-Wan is alone. He needs us. He needs you. Even if he doesn’t know it yet. You can’t help him if you don’t go to find him. You’ve held out this long we’re so close. Don’t give up now, Master.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Padawan Eerin.” Qui-Gon gave her a weak smile, “You are right. I’m sorry for my words. I let my fear control me.” He gazed down at Anakin. His eyes were full of nostalgia, no doubt he saw a young Obi-Wan in Anakin, “Let us find Carloc.”

“Let’s find Obi-Wan.” Bant said, her silver eyes shone in the neon lights.

~~~

Grakkus’s arena was not hard to find. Holo-displays all over the city advertised the gladiatorial arena within the Hutt’s palace. Anakin accompanied them this time. Qui-Gon and Master Fisto had been against the idea, claiming it was far too dangerous for a child. Anakin, not wanting to be stuck in that room any longer, spoke up saying how he could speak the best Huttese out of all of them. Quin had come to his aid then saying how he could get some field experience, it wasn’t dangerous, yes well at least not as dangerous as other time on this mission. Eventually Qui-Gon conceded, Anakin’s relentless pleading and threats of following them anyway quickly wore him down.

The Jedi surrounded Anakin, he could barely see anything, their robes swamped his vision. He had at first tried to duck out of their tight circle of protection but he caught sight of a Zygerrian staring right at him and he quickly slunk back into the Jedi circle. Just seeing Zyggerians made his stomach churn, the memories of his previous life rushed to the surface and thoughts of his mother still trapped on Tatooine alone against Watto, then he thought of Obi-Wan stuck somewhere again alone. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out hard through his nose. He tried to release the feelings into the Force, he kind of got it. Mostly. Either way he felt a bit better.

They made their way through the streets towards the arena. As they got nearer Anakin began to hear more chatter, the faint roar of cheering and talk over speakers. His heart picked up with anticipation and excitement. This was his first proper mission. He glanced up at Qui-Gon who sent a concerned pulse through their bond at his potent feelings. Anakin accepted the feeling then sent back his own wave of excitement and nerves. Qui-Gon gave him a small smile and faced forwards again.

The crowd around them pressed tighter the closer to the gates they got. Anakin made himself as small as possible, he didn’t like being pressed so much but he felt safe still surrounded by his friends. The ground underfoot became slippery as mud mixed with old food, garbage, and what looked like blood mixed on the floor to make a terrible smelling mush.

Anakin grimaced, “How much further do we have to go?”

“Not much further, Anakin.” Qui-Gon answered, “we just need to get in the gates then we can move around better.”

Anakin chewed his lip as they reached the crowd waiting to get inside. He had been thinking a lot about what his master had said yesterday. He’d be lying if it didn’t bother him that Qui-Gon had considered not going after Obi-Wan. Anakin was confused, he thought Qui-Gon had wanted to find him. Even after hearing why, Anakin was still doubtful about if his Master still wanted to go. Anakin had made up his mind in the spilt second he’d heard Qui-Gon’s admission of doubt in the mission, he was going to go to wherever Obi-Wan was and rescue him. When he and Qui-Gon had been in hyperspace to Nar Shaddaa he’d told Anakin all about Jedi Lineages and how technically Obi-Wan was his older brother. Anakin had never had a sibling before, and hearing he was in a huge line that went all the way back to Master Yoda made his eyes go huge and round. He learnt about Feemor, Qui-Gon also told him about Xanatos. Anakin kind of started to see why Qui-Gon was so desperate to find Obi-wan, which in turn made him even more confused yesterday. Being a Jedi was hard. He was always told not to get attached and to let go of his feelings, but Anakin felt so much all the time. How was he supposed to care about things but not let himself care about them? He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.

“Six tickets to the arena.” Master Fisto’s voice broke Anakin from his thoughts. His Huttese was passable, Anakin knew he could have said it much better.

An enormous male Twi’lek sat in a nook in the entrance to the palace, his lekku flung dramatically under his chin. He glared down at them, “that one” he pointed roughly at Anakin, “is too young.”

Anakin felt the Force shift and wrap itself around the Twi’lek’ as Master Fisto used a Force Persuasion trick on him, “He is of age, you will give us the tickets and let us through.”

“He is of age.” The Twi’lek intoned back as he handed them the bundle of tickets, “go through.”

They walked into a long tunnel. The lack of fresh air was very noticeable here. It stank. All the worst smells in the galaxy could be smelled here. Anakin wrinkled his nose. Thankfully the end of the tunnel quickly approached. The noise from the crowd became deafening. They walked out of the tunnel into seats that stretched up impossibly high. Anakin craned his neck to see the top. The arena behind him was only a few rows down, a Gamorrean was fighting a Nexu. The Nexu seemed to be winning. The crowd cried for blood.

Qui-Gon took Anakin’s shoulder and led him through the bodies to a row of empty seats. He, Qui-Gon, and Quin sat together. Master Fisto took Aayla and Bant a couple seats down on a higher row. They sat Anakin in the centre. His eyes were glued on the fight, he couldn’t tear them away. The Gamorrean had a huge vibrolance, but it didn’t seem to be doing it any favours. The Nexu’s claws were covered in the Gamorrean’s blood. It prowled around its prey, the quills on its neck stood up high. Its high screech echoed through the arena. Anakin could feel its pain and fear, he pitied the animal. The Gamorrean ran at the Nexu, the vibrolance lowered towards the animal’s chest. The Nexu leapt up and over the blade and landed on the Gamorrean’s head. Its wide mouth clamped down on the Gamorrean’s head, blood sprayed from its neck at the Nexu’s teeth sliced open an artery. The crowd howled with vicious enjoyment. The Nexu ripped its head side to side and the Gamorrean’s squeals of pain bubbled into a gurgle to silence. It crumpled to the floor motionless.

“Ah that was no surprise.” Anakin turned to the side to see a Phindian sat next to Quin waving an unimpressed arm at the arena, “of course that was gonna win.”

“I missed the start, was it any good?” Quin asked.

“No, the Nexu got a few scratches from the lance but nothing major. If you thought the Boar was gonna win you’re a kriffing idiot.”

“D’you know what’s up next?”

“Yeah, it’ll be a good one. Wookie against a Houk.”

“Pretty evenly matched.” Quin leant closer to the Phindian, “who d’you think’ll win? My bet’s on the Wookie.”

“We haven’t even seen them yet.”

“Ah where’s the fun in that?” Quin raised his eyebrows, taunting the Phindian, “Come on. Gotta do it before they come out, it’s more fun that way.” He waved a credit between them.

The Phindian’s eyes greedily followed the bar, seemed to calculate the risk then grinned, “twenty on the Houk.”

Quin held out a hand and shook when the Phidian gripped it, “Deal.” Anakin glanced over at Qui-Gon who hadn’t watched the conversation like Anakin had but he knew his Master was listening. In the arena the new gladiators were brought in. The Houk was massive. The normally bright purple and green hues on its skin were dull. At the other end the Wookie was pushed out of the entrance. Like the Houk it looked dishevelled and beaten down, its thick fur was matted and missing in patches. Its bad condition did not stop it roaring the moment it stepped into the sunlight. Neither held any weapons, it was to be hand-to-hand combat

“I’m heading off world soon.” Quin began over the din from the onlookers, “D’you know anywhere that has the good stuff like this?”

The Phindian’s gaze was fixed on the Houk, “Hm? Yeah…yeah there’s a few…” The fight had begun in the ring. The Houk had immediately swung at the Wookie, its hulking arm barely missed its target. The Wookie stepped forward and delivered its own savage blow to the Houk. The Phindian hissed with displeasure.

Anakin felt and saw the irritation pass through Quin, “Compared to this arena, everything else I’ve been to is Bantha shit. Any good fighters you know of?” He pressed.

“I hear the Petranaki arena on Geonosis has a Rancor.” The Phindian had a conspirital glint in his eye, “But word is Jabba the Hutt is interested in it.”

Anakin missed the next few seconds of their conversation. Hearing about Jabba made his stomach roll. His pulse roared in his ears. For the second time that day he was reminded of Tatooine. He gripped his hands, hidden in his sleeves, and chewed his lip.

“Are you ok?” Qui-Gon must have picked up his distress. His face was hidden under his hood but through their bond Anakin could feel his Master’s quiet concern.

Anakin nodded and sat up straighter in his seat. He didn’t mean to show how rattled he felt. He fixed his gaze on the fight. The Wookie had taken a beating, blood dribbled from its nose and it favoured its right leg but the Houk wasn’t faring much better. It looked like its shoulder had been dislocated. Its arm was held tight to its chest and its eye was swollen shut as a black eye was rapidly forming. The frenzied crowd threw food, trash and other miscellaneous items at the pair. Anakin tuned back into the conversation between Quin and the Phindian.

“–killed by the dozen. Blood bath apparently.” The Phindian was saying. It winced when the Houk took another hit from the Wookie and fell the ground. The Phindian leapt to its feet and screamed at its fighter to get up and fight back. When he sat back down the Phidian turned properly to face Quin, “I did hear not long ago that there’s a Jedi on Wasskah. Apparently Carloc defeated it in a fight and now it has fight for him.”

Anakin felt the whole group, even those on the higher row still and tune in to the conversation. The Force tensed with them. Quin made no indication of the sudden anticipation, “A Jedi?” He scoffed, “Kreyt spit. No way he has a Jedi.”

“Word is he keeps the laser sword on his belt as proof.” The Phindian suddenly cheered as the Houk gained the upper hand and began pummelling the Wookie.

“A real Jedi? That would be a fight worth the money to see.” Quin leant back, easing the pressure from the conversation. He grimaced as the Wookie quickly was losing the fight. It lay on the floor barely conscious; it weakly evaded the blows raining down on it. Anakin could feel the agony pouring from the Wookie in waves, he steeled his heart and raised his shields tighter to block out the feeling.

“As long as it stays alive Carloc will be getting richer than I can imagine.”

“I reckon it’s hard to kill a Jedi.”

“Take away it’s laser sword and what is a Jedi other than a pomped up politician?”

Anakin bristled at the statement, he too felt the other Jedi’s offence at the dismissal of themselves and their culture. Quin still remained surprisingly calm. He laughed as a reply. The crowd surged to its feet as the Houk bellowed and brought both fists down on the Wookie’s chest. Blood sprayed from the Wookie’s mouth. It tried to stand up but after a pitiful wail, which was drowned out by the crowd, it collapsed back to the floor and lay still.

The Phindian was screaming with glee at the gruesome outcome, “That’ll be 20 credits.” It turned triumphantly to Quin who handed over the credits with a grimace.

“It’s also for the heads up about the Jedi on Wasskah.”

The Phindian tossed one of the bars in the air, “pleasure doing business.” It stood up and began to push its way through the seating. Anakin watched its retreating body and felt anger bubble up in his chest. He hated how much enjoyment the Phindian had got from watching the horrible fight. There were a couple creatures dragging the mauled body of the Wookie away as another pair stepped into the arena.

Qui-Gon stood up, his tall frame cast long shadows over Anakin, “Let’s go. We have all we need from here.”

“Agreed.” Quin sounded grim.

~~~

The ship’s nav was set to Wasskah and soon Nar Shaddaa’s illuminated surface was vanishing behind them. Qui-Gon and Kit sat the controls, Anakin stood so close behind Qui-Gon he could feel his Padawan’s breath on his neck.

“Do we have a plan when we get there?” Kit asked as Qui-Gon pushed the lever and they accelerated to lightspeed.

“Find Obi-Wan, grab him, get off the moon.” Quin answered from the back of the cockpit where he was leant against the wall inspecting his lightsaber hilt.

“As thoroughly thought out as your usual plans, Quin.” Bant teased, “has anyone been to Wasskah?” Everyone looked at each other hoping for someone to say yes, “wonderful.” She deadpanned.

“We can’t risk all of us going in at once.” Qui-Gon spun his seat to face the others, “I shall go in–”

“I’m coming with you.” Bant interrupted

“Padawan are you sure?” Kit sounded slightly concerned

“Yes. No one should go anywhere alone, and Anakin is too young to go in there.”

“I went in Grakkus’ arena.” He jutted his chin which only made him look even younger.

“Because we were one group, Padawan.” Qui-Gon reminded him, “I would rather you stay back from the immediate danger.” Anakin let out a huff but didn’t argue.

“I’m joining you.” Quin pushed himself off the wall, “Aayla, Master Fitso and Anakin stay on the ship in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

“Seeing as we are going to potentially break Obi-Wan out of a Trandoshan illegal fight ring we might need to get off there quick.” Qui-Gon mused as he pulled on his beard, “I hope it goes as smooth as we hope it to go.”

“Do you think it will, Master?” Anakin asked

“No.” Qui-Gon turned to meet his gaze, “No I don’t. Padawan.”

Chapter Text

A standard week and a half crawled by. Obi-Wan had been forced to kill another eighteen beings. He could still feel the snap of the bones as he had wrenched the Chiss’ head and broke its neck. He could still hear the suffocating, rattling gasps of the Mon Calamari and saw not the blue skinned male before him but his friend Bant. His hands still felt slick from the Cerean’s blood as he held a dripping blade in his hands. Countless unnecessary deaths. Each one made Obi-Wan break a little more inside. The only thing keeping him going was the thought of escaping and killing Carloc.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes as he finished the Alchaka. He wiped his hand over his face and stood in the thin bar of light that fell into their cell. He closed his eyes and imagined the warmth he used to feel on Coruscant in the summer. He tried to recall the smell of the city, how the evening sun would hit the glass buildings and make it look like the whole planet was on fire, and the Force would wrap the Temple in its security was peace.

For a moment Obi-Wan imagined what peace felt like.

The cell door crashed shut. Jehr hit the bars and cursed at the retreating Weequay. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and sighed, “how was your fight?”

“Terrible.” He scowled, he had a long gash on his bicep, the blood had dripped onto his vambrace, “The Lizard is still upping the risk. I just had a shiv and was against a Fi’Lin. I only managed to kill it when some crik threw a bottle at it. It hit the beast and it turned on the crowd. When it turned its back I just” Jehr motioned sticking the shiv in the Fi’Lin’s back, “Normally I’d at least get a spear.” Jehr sat down heavily and poked at his arm.

“We need to get out of here soon.” Na’vida muttered from where she sat in the corner of the cell, “If he’s starting to make the fights harder the possibility of us dying here has skyrocketed. Especially you, Obi.”

Obi-Wan scratched his head and raised an eyebrow as his agreement. She was right. Carloc pushed him harder than the other prisoners, gave him worse odds, bigger stronger faster opponents. Each time he won Carloc would stand, his lightsaber flashing at his hip and the crowd would go nuts. They thought if the Sith Killer could be so good Carloc must be even better to have beaten him. The chant of Sith Killer Sith Killer rang in Obi-Wan’s ears. If the Lizard was starting to make things even more difficult Force knows what Obi-Wan would be up against.

“There’s the Trandoshan Celebration coming up soon.” A strange voice whispered from outside their cell. The trio glanced at each other confused. Who in the bloody Sith hells was this?

“What?” Jehr asked.

“That’s why he’s making it harder. Consider it training.” A battered older Bothan leant back on the bars, her fur was matted and dirty.

“Why are you listening in on us?” Na’vida hissed.

“Unless you haven’t noticed there’s not much else to do around here.” The Bothan waved a hand through the bars, “and you aren’t that great at keeping your voice down.”

“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asked as he approached the bars.

“Riskyr.” She regarded him, “Sith Killer, they call you. For one so young your reputation is vast.”

Obi-Wan let his gaze drop to the floor, “Believe me, I wish it wasn’t.” What he wouldn’t give to have never been taken at Theed, not to have killed Maul, to still know himself.

“How do you know about the celebration?” Na’vida asked, sensing Obi-Wan’s discomfort. He threw her a grateful look to which she nodded.

“Before I was captured I collected information on Nal Hutta, seeing as so many Trandoshan’s live there I learned about it.”

“What are they celebrating?” Na’vida asked, her lek curled up at the end.

“It’s their only celebration. It’s for their deity, the Scorekeeper. Normally the Trandoshan’s have a huge hunt, Garnac often holds his hunts on the moon. Their traditional celebration is when loads of captees are released on the mood and the Trandoshan’s hunt them all ‘til they’re all dead. Carloc commercialised it. He’s made it a tournament for non-Trandoshan’s to watch. Bigger fights, stronger monsters, worse odds for us.” Riskyr’s voice was flat, “I expect over two thirds of us will be dead before it’s over.”

“I’m guessing you know of our plan to–” Obi-Wan began.

“To escape? Yeah, I’m pretty sure everyone here knows it too.” Riskyr chuckled darkly, “If you want any time to get out, your best chance is during the celebration. Carloc will be focused on the fights, he will parade himself in front of the crowd so it leaves more opportunity for us to get out.”

“We were going to make a move after our fight.” Na’vida crouched by the bars, “we know us three are going to fight together, we’ve fought at least four bouts together. We’re each going to a cell block. If we get any weapons we’ll keep them or we can steal them from the guards so we can break everyone out together. Then we swarm the arena and get out. They can’t hold all of us back.”

“Not everyone will make it out.” Riskyr glanced at the door.

“I know I’d rather die trying to get out of here than being skewered for the lizard’s entertainment.” Na’vida’s lek pressed flat against her back.

Riskyr frowned “The cell doors are controlled with a biopad, how will you get around that?”

“We only need the hands right?” Jehr spoke up.

The Bothan grimaced, “Rather uncivilised.” Riskyr’s words made Obi-Wan smile to himself, “but if it opens these doshing doors then do it.”

Obi-Wan sat back as he let the other three talk about the plan. He wished he could feel the Force. He knew it would be yelling at him to not carry out his plan, that he was a kriffing idiot for thinking it will work in the first place. Remember Obi-Wan, your focus determines your future. Unbidden his Master’s voice echoed through his head. Obi-Wan drew his knees up to his chest and stared at the dust swirling in the air. He chewed his lip and fiddled with the thin line of thread around his wrist, spinning the beads between his fingers. He had deliberately avoided thinking of Qui-Gon. Either he was fighting for his life, planning the apparently not-so-secret escape, or practising his katas and Alchaka. Any time he let his brain rest he tried to sleep.

Nightmares plagued his sleep. While they were not visions anymore they still shook him to his core. Most nights he was trapped, his wrists bound and mouth gagged. He would watch as the Temple burned and crumbled, listen as his friends screamed in agony. Most of the time he could eventually break free. He would run to the Temple, lightsaber in his hand. As he would run through the scorched halls, he would pass twisted and blackened bodies. The smell would make him gag. Echoes of his friend’s shouts would bounce through the halls. Eventually, no matter which route he took, he would always end up in the Jedi Council Tower. Every time he burst through the door the same figure would be looking out the window, hands held behind his back. Maul would turn around and grin, “Sith Killer. My methods clearly taught you well.” Obi-Wan would look at the floor and see the bodies of his friends, his mentors, and his Master lying still on the floor. Each has a tell-tale lightsaber wound. Obi-Wan would sink to the floor, tears streaking down his cheeks, “why? Why did you do this?” Maul would stay where he was at the window, the evening sun casting his face in shadow, “I didn’t kill them. You did.” His torso would suddenly tumble to floor where Obi-Wan had sliced through his body on Lola Sayu. As his body crumpled to the ground his lips would whisper, “Jedi Killer.” Obi-Wan would wake smothering his gasping breaths. He would stifle his sobs as he pressed himself against the wall. The after-images of the nightmare flashing in his mind’s eye: Bant’s pale unseeing eyes staring at him; Siri’s blood shining on the floor haloing her head; Master Shaak Ti’s hand lay open and still as though reaching for Obi-Wan; and Qui-Gon’s unmoving chest pierced through his heart by a lightsaber. He wouldn’t try to go back to sleep again. He would let the tears cascade down his face as his feelings would nearly suffocate him, the tight ball of pain, fear, and loneliness would throb in his chest. He wouldn’t let himself make a sound, his mouth open in silent screams and sobs and his hands clutched at his hair. He would sit as watch the sunlight slowly made its way across the floor. Eventually the agony and confusion would fade to a dull throb, matching his heartbeat.

~~~

“What will you do once we’re free?” Na’vida broke the silence. The faint cry of the crowd filtered through the walls.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Jehr admitted, he picked at his boot, the leather was coming apart at the seams, “I know I wouldn’t go back to Devaron. Probably be a bounty hunter. There isn’t much need for someone with my skills in this galaxy. What about you? Would you go back to Ryloth?”

Na’vida shook her head, “I’ve never been. I was born on Nal Hutta.” Her eyes darted around, searching for something to look at, “and no I wouldn’t go back there.”

“Why not?” Jehr asked.

Na’vida pulled her knees up to her chest. Her face paled slightly, and she gripped her hands around her legs, “Memories I’d rather forget.”

Obi-Wan and Jehr exchanged looks, they didn’t want to push her, “Where would you go?” Obi-Wan said as he picked at a crack in the floor.

Na’vida looked relived, “oh I don’t know” she ran a hand over the stump of her missing lek, “I’ve always wanted to go to a Core World. Correila maybe. I grew up on stories of the galaxy and I’ve seen so little.”

“I know I’m not settling again. Not for a while. If I stop, I’ll go insane.” Obi-Wan fiddled with the hem of his trousers. He found sitting still a difficult task now. So used to being on high alert, rest was a foreign concept to him.

“There isn’t much call for an ex-Jedi with Sith training who escaped a Trandoshan fight ring?” Jehr chuckled at his own poor joke.

Obi-Wan grinned at Jehr as he shook his head, “Nah I want to do my own thing.” He deepened his voice and tried to sound powerful raising his arm to emphasise his words, “My mission will be to take on the worst the galaxy can offer.” He let his arm drop to the floor.

“Bounty hunter then.” Na’vida said.

“No. I don’t want to do someone else’s dirty work. I want to go after who deserves it.” Obi-Wan looked over at his cellmates, “we’d make a good team.”

“You read my mind, kid.” Jehr grinned, “I wouldn’t lose any sleep getting rid of more places like this.”

“See the galaxy and clean up as we go. Sounds like a good plan.” Na’vida said, her lek swayed behind her shoulder.

“When I was with Maul, he spoke of another Sith. He called them the Sith Pretender. Having two Sith is bad enough but having three is downright terrifying.” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair which flopped back in front of his eyes.

“So you’re saying you want to go after a Sith?” Na’vida looked sceptical.

“…Eventually. Yeah.”

“You’re crazy, kid.” Jehr chuckled, “but I’d still go with you.”

~~~

Obi-Wan’s chest ached, a fresh bruise bloomed on his ribs. His left leg sported a long slash, his blood soaked his trousers. He stumbled as the Weequay shoved him into the cell. Jehr caught his shoulder as Obi-Wan’s knees gave out, his head was spinning. He had almost lost his fight. It had been four against one; a Kel Dor, a Duros, a Parwan, and a Sullstan. Each had a weapon. Obi-Wan had nothing, once again. He’d managed to get the Parwan’s sword and in one clean slice had killed it. The other three had joined forces and Obi-Wan had had to fend off them. It was a lucky hit he managed to strike the Kel Dor’s mask. Instantly it dropped to the floor clawing at his face, the toxic oxygen poisoning its body. Two left. The Duros was fast, the Sullustan was squat and strong. Obi-Wan had to adapt to each’s fighting style. His blade spun in a blinding sliver blur. However, fending off two adversaries who were so different was more difficult than Obi-Wan had first thought.

He had been holding a heavy strike from the Sullustan when, in the corner of his eye, he saw the Duros’s vibrosword swipe low and he felt the piercing burn where it bit into his muscle. He had spun out, kicked the Sullustan away then twisted intending to cut off the Duros’s hand. The Sullustan crashed into him and punched him hard on the side. Obi-Wan had to cover his head with his arms to protect himself. He’d managed to get his legs between them and had pushed out. The Sullustan had staggered back with a grunt. Obi-Wan’s leg had lit up with fresh pain at the movement. The Duros was coming back for more. Obi-Wan reached out his hand to call his weapon to his hand but of course the Force was silent. He rolled to the side just as the Duros brought its sword down where Obi-Wan was into the sand. Scrambling to his feet he snatched up the blade and in one swift motion impaled the sword through the Duros’s chest. There was no time to celebrate. The Sullustan charged at Obi-Wan, he had frantically tugged at the sword but it was stuck in the Duros’ chest. He’d leapt to the side and rolled away once again without a weapon. The Sullustan skidded to a halt and changed direction. Obi-Wan ran to meet them, in a quick manoeuvre he dodged to the left, his injured leg barely took the added pressure but he leapt up and onto the Sullustan’s back. He’d looped his arms around its neck and clung on as he strangled his opponent. After what seemed like an age Obi-Wan had dropped to floor on top of the motionless body of the Sullustan. It had not felt like a victory. None of his fights had.

He felt numb to the senseless loss of life. How many dead eyes can he look into before he dies inside himself? He had felt so hollow and unaffected for so long now he thought he almost forgot how it felt to be shocked and horrified at death. Having lived so close to it for so long it felt like a neighbour to him.

“You need to sit, kid.” Jehr slowly helped Obi-Wan to the ground, “got a good beating huh?”

Obi-Wan winced and grunted.

“It’s only two days before the Scorekeeper celebration. We just need to hang on ‘til then.” Na’vida said as she crouched in front of Obi-Wan and poked his leg, “It’s not deep. You’ll live.”

“Thanks, doc.” He let the back of his head rest against the wall. He sighed and let his eyes settle on the weak ray of light, “I’m just tired of this.”

“Of fighting?”

“I’m tired of being scared. Of hurting. Tired of not feeling safe. Tired of being someone else’s.” Obi-Wan’s chest felt tight, tension sat heavy around his lungs.

The other two stayed quiet for a moment. Na’vida broke the silence, “When I was captured, I was at my local market. It had been a nice day; a rarity on Nal Hutta. I had gone with…with Nima.” Na’vida’s voice caught in her throat, “my daugher.” She swallowed, “I had told her to go a buy some blumfruit. We had only been separated for a short time … It was a mother’s instinct that told me something was wrong. I couldn’t see her anywhere.” Obi-Wan saw Na’vida clutch her hands together, her eyes were full of tears, “I found her. A Trandoshan had her by her lekku. She was crying. I begged him to let her go, I said to take me instead of her. He didn’t let go of her lekku and I could see the damage it was doing to her. Her…her legs stopped working and she fell to the ground, but he still didn’t let her go. He said he’d trade. Me for her. I ran over to her when he let her go.” Tears rolled down Na’vida’s cheeks, “She was barely conscious. The Trandoshan grabbed me then. When our lekku are roughly handled it hurts… I can’t describe the pain. They’re extensions of our brain. He gripped mine and led me away. I had to leave Nima lying on the floor. I begged him to go back and let me help her. He stopped then. He looked at me for a long time then he took out a blaster and he shot her.” Na’vida’s face crumpled and she gave into her dreadful grief, “I don’t know if she was ever found but I never got to say goodbye. She died in pain and alone and I couldn’t help her.” Jehr and Obi-Wan leant in and took her hands in theirs, her grip was weak and her fingers trembled. She looked up at Obi-Wan, “I’ve lived with that guilt for nearly two years. I can’t move on when I’m trapped here. I’m exhausted of being reminded of my failure day in and day out. I don’t care if I die when we fight back. I can’t go on living like this, it’s not even living. Its surviving. I want to live again.”

Obi-Wan shuffled forwards, ignoring the many aches in his body and wrapped his arms around Na’vida, “I’m so sorry.” He spoke into her shoulder, “We will make it out of here. I promise you.”

“I know.” She whispered.

“She’d be proud of you.” Jehr’s voice was surprisingly soft, “you fought for her and even after all the vaping horrors you’ve had to endure, you’re still fighting.”

Na’vida gave him a watery smile, “I can’t give up. It would be a dishonour to her memory.”

“When we take down this Force forsaken place, we will fight for Nima.” Obi-Wan said.

Na’vida scrubbed roughly at her face, “Sorry for crying.” She sniffed and dried her damp hands on her harem pants, “I haven’t gone back to that day for a long time.”

“There’s no need to apologise for crying. It’s not a sign of weakness. It shows you care.”

“Thanks, Obi.”

He gave her a little smile and let himself lean back against the wall. He knew everyone had their own past, their own agendas but having heard Na’vida it only strengthened his resolve to get out. To escape and take back his life.

Chapter Text

Four days in hyperspace had been more exhausting than Qui-Gon thought it would have been. Anakin’s restless energy had been difficult to keep up with. Qui-Gon had to pull him away from the engines, his Padawan’s fingers itched to fiddle with the mechanics. He lost count how many times he’d had to tell him, no Anakin the power compensator did not need enhancing, they had no need for stealth profile. Trying to divert his Padawan’s attention had led to innumerable kata and Form practices and attempts at meditation. Yet despite all the activities they only managed a couple hours of actual study. Anakin couldn’t be left alone as he would somehow find something to tinker with, or a person to shadow, or would be drawn back to the cockpit.

Qui-Gon was eternally grateful for Bant. She had been more than happy to take Anakin through his katas, Qui-Gon had noticed, under her careful eye Anakin’s Forms has greatly improved. Guilt ate at him. Qui-Gon knew he had neglected his Padawan’s training of late. He had once again let himself fall into his tunnel vision when he lets the Force guide him. He sighed and ran a hand through his beard.

“What’s troubling you, Qui-Gon?” Kit asked. The Nautolan put his datapad down on the tabletop, “I can feel your tension even through your shields.”

“I’m just thinking about how I have become a substandard Master the last few weeks.”

“Oh?”

“When it was Obi-Wan and myself everything seemed much simpler. We would train, I would teach him, he would learn. He was so driven to study. Whether we are on missions or at the Temple that system just worked. I’m not saying it was without its rough patches and I’m not saying I knew how to teach him. Force knows we clashed many times, but I knew he was learning. Often he taught himself. With Anakin…I thought it would make sense. We are much more similar–”

“You mean he doesn’t take the Council’s word as innate truth?” Kit interrupted, a twinkle in his eyes.

Qui-Gon huffed a laugh, “possibly. But it’s more than that. He is intune with the Living Force like I am. Obi-Wan was always closer to the Cosmic Force. I thought we should work together, being so similar. Yet…”

“You are too much of a maverick to ground Anakin and he is too wild to tell you when to stop.”

Qui-Gon sighed. Kit had always been so quick to understand, “I fear that is the truth. Can I teach someone who is so alike to myself?”

“Well,” Kit reached out and checked the computer, “you don’t have much choice in the matter. I do think you made a rash choice about Anakin. You were wrong for not discussing your plan with Obi-Wan. But you made it. It happened. Now you have a new Padawan. You said the Force told you to do it.” Kit turned back to Qui-Gon, “What is the Force saying now?”

Qui-Gon puffed out his cheeks, “I know I need to find Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, but that is what you want. You’ve never been one to ignore the Force, Qui-Gon.”

“It’s been clouded recently. It’s almost like it hadn’t thought this far. I don’t know how to explain it, Kit. I feel like it’s still deciding. Waiting to see what happens on Wasskah. Like what happens there will chose one of two possible paths.” Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes and leant back in the seat. He let his mind wander over his time with Obi-Wan. Ten years had flown by. So much had happened, so much had changed. But had they ultimately ended up back at the start? An angry lost boy and a Master who was unwilling to open his heart to him. But he reminded himself they’d been there before and they had moved forwards. Qui-Gon hoped he would once again be able to build a relationship with his former Padawan once they found Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon was sure Obi-Wan would come back with him. Qui-Gon understood that he might not have returned to the Temple at first out of fear, but once Qui-Gon explained that he had been looking for him the whole time there is a good chance Obi-Wan would come back. He might not forgive Qui-Gon yet, but they could work on that. Such a huge change in their relationship would no doubt require patience and time to heal it. The Temple was Obi-Wan’s home. It makes sense for him to come back. To be among his friends would help his healing. Qui-Gon smiled to himself at the thought of Obi-Wan hearing how much his friends had missed him and how long and hard they had searched for him. Obi-Wan always had a way of convincing himself he was underserving of love, maybe he will allow himself to see the extent of their love for him this time. Qui-Gon allowed himself to feel hope that their mission might work. The small feeling fluttered in his chest.

~~~

Anakin didn’t want to sleep. His eyes itched from exhaustion, but he made himself keep moving. Unfortunately there is not much to do on this ship. He’d already done his katas and tried for two hours that felt like a week to learn about the governmental structure of the Royal House of Naboo which was very boring but it had reminded Anakin of Padme. He wondered how she was, he thought about her and how the gold flecks in her hair style had shone in the sun. She was very pretty. There weren’t that many pretty people like her on Tatooine, she was clean and had worn fancy clothes.

Anakin yawned. Qui-Gon had finally run out of stuff to do and of patience, he could feel his Master’s mild irritation through the Force. Anakin didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want the nightmares. They weren’t like normal dreams. These ones felt so real. The Force always was present in these nightmares, it was like it was showing him things. Anakin didn’t like it. He hadn’t told Qui-Gon yet, he didn’t want his Master to have another thing to worry about. After all they were only dreams. Right? He wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore.

They had started before he had left the Temple. It had been flashes at first. A face, a sound, a smell. Then he began to experience deja-vu more and more. His dreams and reality would line up. However, soon the dreams began to develop. He would see events unfold in his restless sleep, events which he would live again later. He had not been surprised to be summoned by Qui-Gon as he had already seen him leaving the Temple with his Master only a few nights before.

But on their journey to Nar Shaddaa he had suddenly had a nightmare of Obi-Wan. Anakin had seen him sitting in a dark cell, a thin beam of light landed on the floor in front of him. He had been talking to two other figures. They had been blurry and undefined; Anakin couldn’t see them. When he had woken he had not told Qui-Gon about his dream. But ever since his sleep had often been disrupted by Obi-Wan. It confused Anakin. Sometimes he saw Obi-Wan standing alongside him, his hand resting on Anakin’s shoulder. A strong sense of righteousness filled Anakin in these times. Other times he saw Obi-Wan alongside a tall grey-haired man with a beard wearing long black robes. They stood side by side, the stranger’s two curved lightsabers were red. Anakin felt terror and sadness as he would look at the pair. Sometimes he saw Obi-Wan but much older sitting before a fire, his hood drawn low over his face, the desert dark and cold around him. When he saw these nightmares a sense of dread and guilt washed through Anakin. But the one that scared Anakin the most was Obi-Wan, filthy and angry, standing before Qui-Gon. Anakin would be running to them, unable to hear their words. When he got closer, he would see Obi-Wan start to turn away. Anakin would never be able to reach him. He would watch as Obi-Wan walked away, into the grey fog that would engulf him. A terrible loneliness accompanied that nightmare and the Force felt flat, like it lost some of its life and strength. When he woke after seeing the nightmares Anakin would feel drained and would long for the warm embrace of his mother. The absence of the security she offered was obvious as he would lie on his bed, hugging his chest desperately craving guidance and security.

Anakin hopped up onto the thin mattress. He stared at the grey walls of the alcove and chewed his lip. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and brought his knees up to his chin. Sleep made his eyes feel heavy, he blinked to keep them open but it was so hard to stay awake. He slid down the wall until he was curled up on his side as his breathes evened out.

The evening light of the twin suns burst through his eyelids. Opening them Anakin was struck by a wave of heat. He turned away from a sharp gust of wind and saw a small house in the near distance. It was a white building, shaped like half a sphere. There was a small arch which, as he got closer, Anakin saw covered some stairs that went into the sand. The Force sang to Anakin here. He jogged closer and the Force hummed. The sky was darkening rapidly as night drew nearer. Anakin was nearly at the steps when he heard a familiar voice.

“I hope you’re safe, Ani.”

Only two people call him Ani. Padme doesn’t live on Tatooine. He dashed round the side of the house and he saw her. His mother was standing alone. She looked up at the star-studded sky and held a small bundle of cloth in her grasp. Her hair was waving in the wind. Her cheeks were wet.

“Mum…” Anakin whispered as he came closer. She didn’t move, she didn’t seem to hear him.

“I wish I could see you again. I have so much to tell you.” She smiled sadly and twisted the material in her hands, which Anakin realised was the old overcoat she had made for him when he was really small. He stepped silently behind her, “I’m no longer living with Watto. He sold me to Cliegg. I don’t want you to worry though, I’m…I’m free now. He married me.” She gave a tiny laugh and broke her gaze with the stars and looked down at the coat, “I still sometimes can’t understand that. It’s so strange to be my own person.” Her tears fell onto the fabric and she brushed them away. Anakin’s heart leapt hearing her words, “I know my tale no doubt pales by comparison to the adventures you’re having, Ani. I wish I could hear of them. My little boy off saving the galaxy…” She trailed off and released a wavering breath out.

“I miss you mum.” Anakin whispered, “This whole Jedi thing isn’t going how I thought it would.” He stood next to her now, just as they used to when they would watch Tatooine’s binary sunset. His mum was looking back up at the stars, their light shining in her tear-filled eyes, “It went wrong as soon as we started. We’ve been trying to find Obi-Wan for months. I’m learning so much. I’m just…confused. Qui-Gon keeps saying I’m the Chosen One but if I’m meant to be so good how come I can’t even find one person?” Anakin felt much older than nine (nearly ten) years old. He chewed his lip, “Sometimes I think they got the wrong person. Being here made sense. There was right and wrong. The Jedi are so complicated. I miss building Threepio, I miss pod racing, I miss being warm … I miss you” his voice cracked, and his eyes misted over, “I miss your hugs, I miss talking to you, I miss the songs you used to sing.” He gazed at her face and felt his face crumple as he let his tears flow, “The Jedi forbid attachments, but they don’t understand. They never had you. They don’t understand how much it hurts not to be near you. I just want to talk to you again. I need your help. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He roughly rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye to wipe away the tears. He sighed. He felt drained.

“I remember when you were a baby” His mum began, “You were absolutely entranced by droids. Mama, you’d ask, how do they go? I remember you had such tantrums when you first started working with the machines. You would be so angry that you couldn’t do it right away. You would say I don’t know what to do, mama, I don’t know how to make it work.” Anakin widened his eyes at her, it was as though she had heard his plea, “It took you months, but you got it. After that…nothing could stop you. Droid parts all over the shop, Watto yelling at you to clean them up but you would just bring in more pieces. You had to make your project perfect.” She smiled to herself, “You are a very special boy, Ani. The Jedi don’t know how lucky they are to have you.”

Anakin instinctively reached out to touch her hand, his heart almost burst from his chest, his love for her was so great. The Force called a faint warning to him but he ignored it. He thought he would be unable to touch her but suddenly he felt his fingers slip between hers. She gasped and looked down at Anakin.

“Ani?” She could see him!

Anakin could feel the Force starting to drag him away from her, the dream which feels so real was starting to dissolve around him “I love you so much mum. I miss you.” He gripped her hand and smiled at her. Her eyes were full of love and she smiled at him, her breaths coming in short gasps. The wind was picking up around him but her hair remained still.

“I’m so proud of you.” Her voice was almost drowned in the noise from the Force. Anakin tried to speak but his own words where ripped from his throat. He instead squeezed her hand and went to throw himself around her. He felt her grip him tightly, her warmth smothered his whole soul. The pure love and joy between the two of them overwhelmed Anakin. They held on tight but Anakin suddenly felt like he was holding smoke. She faded from his grip and soon Tatooine’s evening light was nothing but a memory.

Lost in his sleep, a tear slid down Anakin’s cheek. He had a soft, sad smile on his face. His arms were wrapped around his chest, his grip tight like he was clinging onto someone he desperately didn’t want to lose.

~~~

Their ship flew low over the forested moon. The trees and bramble seemed incongruous to the savage sport the Trandoshan’s loved so much. Qui-Gon could sense the flora’s stress and pain from the years of hunting. The sport affects more than just the hunted. He saw a congress of Convor’s flying in the distance.

“We’re approaching the landing zone” Kit called over his shoulder, “Get ready.”
Qui-Gon stepped away from the window and looked for Anakin. His Padawan was standing next to Quinlan watching as the Knight prepped for the oncoming landing, “Padawan.” He motioned with his arm. Anakin’s signature glowed and he ran over. There was something different about Anakin. He seemed lighter. Like a great burden had been lifted. He looked younger.

“Yes, Master.”

“I know you’re not happy with the choice for you to stay in the ship.” True to his words a frown crossed Anakin’s brow, “But I hope you understand why. We will have many missions together, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, Master.” Qui-Gon could hear Anakin supressed disappointment in his voice.

“I also need someone to keep an eye on Master Fisto over there.” Qui-Gon smiled, Anakin gave him a half grin back. Qui-Gon ruffled his Padawan’s hair as he stood. He realised with a jolt he never did anything similar to that with Obi-Wan. He had been so closed and cold with Obi-Wan, it had never felt natural. He had kept himself at a distance after his failure with Xanatos, he couldn’t afford to let himself be so attached, so blinded again. Whereas with Anakin, the boy was so forthcoming with his feelings, they were sometimes contagious. It felt right for the small touches on the shoulder for support or to hug Anakin. Qui-Gon grit his teeth, he didn’t need this confusion and conflict right now. He released the feelings into the Force. He needed to be completely centred for this mission.

The ship descended behind a clump of trees. Their arrival went unnoticed. Qui-Gon, Quinlan and Bant leapt silently from the ramp onto the moss-covered floor. The faint echoing sound from thousands of voices could be heard through the foliage. The three Jedi jogged towards the noise. After a short time, the arena rose us out of the forest. It was ugly. Great sludge covered grey stones climbed the sides, it looked like an old god was trying to punch its way out of the ground with its huge fist. Worn and torn banners were strung around, advertising the fights inside.

“Well, we definitely found the right place.” Quinlan pointed to a banner that hung to left of the centre one. It was a black background, the words ‘Home of the Sith Killer’ printed in garish red across it. Qui-Gon’s stomach clenched reading it. Knowing Obi-Wan was so close made his heart race.

A large crowd pushed at the entrance as more beings tried to enter. They joined the edge of the mass. Quinlan expanded his Force Cloak around to them, rendering them invisible in the Force as they all smudged their presence ensuring any eye that saw them slid over them without properly noticing them. They edged closer to the entrance, the energy in the arena was so strong Qui-Gon could feel Savage Pleasure, Vengefulness, Enjoyment, Anger rushing through the Force. The crowd split in two as they were funnelled up stone steps into the packed seating area. Countless species crushed into the space, everyone shoving the others to get a better view. Qui-Gon saw Bant wrinkle her nose, he struggled to hide his revulsion too. The Jedi slunk to the back where they stood but still could see the arena well. Qui-Gon saw a couple of Weequays pulling the mauled body of a Cerean into a tunnel as three others used polearms with vicious barbs on the end to keep a screeching Acklay at bay. One of the Weequays stooped to snatch up a vibrosword laying on the ground and shoved it in its belt. Qui-Gon could feel the Acklay’s aggression and bloodlust in the Force.

“I had no idea this was here.” Bant muttered, her voice only just carried over the roar of the crowd as a huge Besalisk stepped into sight, behind the barriers Qui-Gon noticed. It also kept throwing the occasional glace at the Acklay which was pacing and roaring at the crowd, “how can we let these places exist?”

“Well after that…short show” the crowd jeered in support of the Besalisk’s words, “I think we need something better to get our teeth into don’t you think?” Once again, the crowd surged in gleeful anticipation. Qui-Gon cast his gaze around watching credits openly pass hands as bets were made and finished, “The next round will be good. It’s everyone’s favourite volunteer” The crowd started to rumble, “some say he’s undefeatable” the crowd’s volume rose to a greater level, the Besalisk paused it’s sharp eyes watching the mob, “that may change today, but for our entertainment…it’s the Sith Killer!”

The three Jedi straightened up. This is it, Qui-Gon thought, I’m going to see Obi-Wan again. Their anticipation vibrated through the Force, all three of their hearts were racing.

The crowd roared and began to chant, “Sith Killer! Sith Killer! Sith Killer!” The Acklay in the arena screeched at the wall of noise and lunged at one of the Weequays.

There was movement in one of the tunnels at the end of the oval shaped arena. The chant was deafening now, “SITH KILLER! SITH KILLER! SITH KILLER!” it echoed up and out of the open top arena. Qui-Gon felt slightly sick knowing the chnat was for his Padawan. Three figures stepped out into the light. There was a green Twi’lek with a missing lek and a huge Devaronian but Qui-Gon only had eyes for the third person.

“Obi-Wan…” Bant’s voice trembled.

Qui-Gon’s breath caught in his throat. There stood Obi-Wan. He was nothing like the boy he had raised. He stood clad in only loose black trousers, trousers that looked worryingly similar to those Maul wore on Naboo, Qui-Gon noted. His hair was longer, it flopped down just above his eyes and brushed his neck. He sported a beard now, it made him look far beyond his 25 years. Qui-Gon couldn’t stop his eyes drifting to the empty space where his Padawan braid should be. Obi-Wan had always been fit, the life of a Jedi is hard and physical training was imperative but Obi-Wan now looked stronger, his muscles more defined but he also looked slimmer. What made Qui-Gon clench his hands under his robes was seeing the plethora of scars that were all over Obi-Wan. There was very little unmarked skin on his body.

“Force what happened to him?” Quinlan spoke more to himself than anyone else.

His boy moved differently, there was a certain grace in his motion now. Even as he stood Qui-Gon could see he held himself in a more self-assured manner. He had grown up. When Obi-Wan looked at the Twi’lek next to him Qui-Gon then saw the black ring around his neck. A Force Suppressant collar. No wonder Obi-Wan hadn’t already escaped.

“This fight will have two parts” The Besalisk started speaking again. Qui-Gon kept his eyes on Obi-Wan who locked his gaze on the Besalisk, a burning anger shone in his eyes. Qui-Gon felt his stomach drop. Obi-Wan had been a passionate young boy, often his temper would get the better of him, Qui-Gon recalled that being another reason he was against taking Obi-Wan as his Padawan learner, but he had never known his boy to look so vengeful. So engulfed by his emotions. The Besalisk continued, “the first will be against this Acklay.” As if understanding its role, the creature hissed and snapped at the sharp polearms aimed at it, “the next will be another beast, but I think we should keep our volunteers on their toes don’t you think?” The crowd jeered and roared their support.

“Volunteers.” Bant spat, clearly the trio in the arena shared her thoughts for they all scowled at the word.

The Besalisk lifted an arm and when it dropped the Weequays holding the Acklay at bay ran to an exit still carrying the polearms, Qui-Gon noted. The crowd once again was shouting and gesturing at the pit urging the beast to attack and for Obi-Wan and the other two to fight.

“Your eyes are better than mine to they have any weapons?” Qui-Gon asked the other two even thought he could already see the answer to his question.

“No.” Quinlan answered, “they have nothing.”

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, how was Obi-Wan expected to beat an Acklay without anything to defend himself with? He watched as the Acklay dashed after the retreating bodies of the Weequays and saw as it snatched up the last one. The Weequay screamed as the monster’s jaws clamped around its torso ad was whipped from side to side. The screams stopped abruptly when the Acklay tossed the body to the side where it lay a bloodied heap on the floor. The green creature turned to face Obi-Wan and the other two. With a high pitched screech, it charged.

Qui-Gon held his breath as he watched Obi-Wan dodge, dive, roll and leap around the thrashing Acklay alongside the other two who fought alongside him. He was transfixed. His heart was in his throat as the Acklay stamped down with one of its six razor sharp legs at Obi-Wan who only just managed to wrench himself out of the way. Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan yelled something, his words lost in the cacophony of noise, at the Devaronian who nodded. Obi-Wan and the Twi’lek drew close and retreated shouting loud and waving their arms. The Acklay advanced. The Devaronian crouched low to the ground and sprinted round the back of the creature. Obi-Wan and the Twi’lek ran to the edge of the ring. The Twi’lek quickly revered her direction and ran to the side while Obi-Wan continued straight and, with the Acklay closing in faster and faster, jumped up the wall. Obi-Wan took two steps up the rusted surface and twisted in the air as he pushed away but he didn’t manage to avoid the Acklay’s claw and Qui-Gon saw as the tip of the barb sliced through Obi-Wan’s side. The Acklay’s leg carried on and drove deep into the metal. Quin swore loudly.

Obi-Wan landed and rolled away in the sand, blood started to track down towards his hips. The crowd yelled at the sight of fresh blood. Bant gripped her hands and pressed them to her lips. Qui-Gon, heart in his mouth, watched as the Acklay struggled to wrench its leg from the metal the huge Devaronian ran up and leapt on the creature’s back. The green monster writhed under the sudden weight and whipped its head around to try and bite the Devaronian. The Twi’lek dashed to Obi-Wan and pulled him out of the range of the other legs on the floor. The Devaronian clambered up to the base of the Acklay’s neck, reached up and grabbed the neck plate which protruded from the back of its head. The Devaronian pulled it down so the Acklay’s head was forced to point upwards. Qui-Gon suddenly felt a rush of confusion coming from the Acklay through the Force.

Qui-Gon saw a bottle arc out of the crowd and land in the sand. It landed just in front of Obi-Wan who snatched it up and smashed it over his knee. The glass shattered leaving him with a leathal handle. The Acklay had managed to yank its claw free. It staggered around the arena, the Devaronian clung desperately to the neck plate.

“Kill it, kid!” Qui-Gon heard him yell, his deep voice carried through the cavernous space.

Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan grit his teeth and run right at the beast. He ducked beneath its chest. The Twi’lek shadowed Obi-Wan and pulled him out of the way when one of its deadly legs nearly stabbed them both.

“Kriff that was close.” Quinlan muttered.

Obi-Wan punched the broken bottle up into the soft skin of the Acklay with a yell. The beast screamed in pain but Obi-Wan kept driving it deeper until he was up to his elbow. The Twi’lek dug her own fingers in the wound pulling the softer skin apart. Qui-Gon had to close his mind to the agony emanating from the Acklay.

Obi-Wan wrenched his blood covered arm back out, the bottle still in his hand. A gush of blood sprayed down onto Obi-Wan and the Twi’lek who both ran back out from under the beast. The Ackley staggered sideways, its head still forced upwards.

“Jehr! Catch!” Obi-Wan threw the bottle neck up to the Devaronian who caught it, flipped it in his hand to a reverse grip and dug it deep in the base of the Acklay’s exposed jaw. Blood gushed from the gaping wound. Its legs gave out from under it as the Devaronian leapt down to the floor. Qui-Gon pressed his lips together as the Acklay lay on the ground its cries echoed from the arena. The crowd roared in approval, “SITH KILLER! SITH KILLER! SITH KILLER!” swelled in the air. Obi-Wan, his chest heaving in breaths, stood still as he watched the last gasping breaths the Acklay took. Qui-Gon could just see through his former Padawan’s closed off expression the displeasure he felt at the brutal death, but Qui-Gon was simultaneously relieved Obi-Wan had made it out alive.

The Besalisk stepped into the light, microphone in hand, “once again Sith Killer made it out alive!” Obi-Wan’s eyes, alight with adrenaline filled rage, locked back onto the Besalisk. Qui-Gon’s stomach clenched at hearing the epithet again. He hated how the name was echoed through the mob. Four Weequays jogged out into the pit and started slowly dragging the Acklay’s heavy carcass out, “Time for round two! This time they’re fighting a Tuk’ata, also called a Sith Hound. A Sith Killer against a Sith Hound.” As it spoke the Tuk’ata sprang from the tunnel at the opposite end of the arena. The huge grey hound’s striking blue spines and face details glinted in the weak sunlight. It roared, spittle flew from its open maw. The crowd yelled back. Qui-Gon felt the Darkness that swelled around the hound. Tuk’ata are known to be imbued and strengthened by the Dark Side, how Carloc managed to get his hands on one baffled Qui-Gon.

“What is he doing?” Bant wondered aloud.

Qui-Gon looked back at Obi-Wan and saw that he and the other two were slowly edging round to the tunnel where the body of the Acklay was almost through the mouth of the tunnel.

“Carloc!” Obi-Wan’s voice bellowed out, the crowd hushed, “You’ve watched your last fight.” He pointed up at space a few rows below Qui-Gon, venom in his words, “You can’t stop us all.”

Suddenly the trio sprinted towards the tunnel. The crowd bellowed at their apparent cowardice. Qui-Gon saw a figure leap to its feet where Obi-Wan had been pointing to. It was a tall green Trandoshan, Carloc. He hissed in his guttural language while pointing at the arena. Obi-Wan and the other two vanished into the tunnels shadow. The hound, previously watching them now turned its attention to the crowd, its intelligent eyes hungry.

“I think we should get out of here.” Qui-Gon began to take a step backwards.

The hound started prowling towards to the edge of the arena, unease started to ripple through the onlookers. The three Jedi pushed through the crowd towards the exits. They reached the gate when cries of terror and pain could be heard from behind them. The Tak’ata’s growls and wet crunches accompanied the fearful yells.

The three Jedi broke into a run when they heard feet slapping on the stone floor behind them. Qui-Gon reached for his comlink and punched in Kit’s frequency, “Kit. Obi-Wan’s there. He’s going to storm the arena or something.” His brain was spinning, “I need your help. When the crowd leave, we need to get in there and rescue Obi-Wan. I need you to get the ship running, we will need a quick getaway when we have Obi-Wan.”

“Understood.” Kit said, “prepping the engines, keep me in the loop.”

The Jedi ran to the treeline, they dived behind it just as a swarm of bodies flooded from the arena’s entrance. The faint roar of the Tuk’ata grew louder as it prowled towards the arch, stalking its prey.

Qui-Gon couldn’t get the image of Obi-Wan, body covered in scars displaying the suffering he had to endure, hair long and far outgrown his Padawan cut, and eyes flashing with a burning anger, out of his head. On the flight Qui-Gon had been so sure that Obi-Wan would see reason and would want to come back, but after seeing how much his boy had changed…he wasn’t quite so sure anymore.

Bant reached round her hip to grasp her lightsaber hilt as the hoard continued to advance, “I hope you know what you’re doing Obi-Wan.”

Chapter Text

“Carloc!” Obi-Wan’s throat was sore from shouting. The crowd's roar fell to a rumble, “You’ve watched your last fight.” His gaze was fixed on the Lizard who looked confused, he jabbed a finger at him, “You can’t stop us all.”

“Go go go!” Na’vida whispered. They burst into a desperate sprint. They had to reach the tunnel before the Acklay's body was all the way through. Obi-Wan’s side burned where the creature’s claw had sliced his torso, but he forced the pain aside. He needed to focus. He saw from the corner of his eye the Tuk’ata watching them, its body was completely still as though considering them. The crowd’s displeasure swelled in his ears. He grimaced and kept running.

Finally Obi-Wan, Na’vida and Jehr were swallowed by the tunnel’s shadows. The Weequay guards inside yelped with surprise at the intrusion. Jehr charged forwards, punched his shoulder into one and bulldozed a second the ground. Obi-Wan leapt to the wall, pushed off and drove his knee into the third’s face, blood sprayed from its nose as Na’vida kicked her heel into the last one’s solar plexus. The four Weequays writhed on the ground clutching their injuries and moaning in pain. Jehr stooped and easily scooped one of them and slung it over his shoulder. The guard yelped.

“Shut it.” He snarled at the quivering figure, “you two better be quick. Who knows what Carloc has waiting for us. Get back to the pit as quick as you can.” With that he jogged down the corridor and took a sharp left.

Na’vida hooked her foot under one of the vibrospears, previously leaning against the wall now on the ground, and flicked it to her hand. She broke the wooden handle over her knee making it the length of her forearm. She grabbed one of the Weequays and hauled it to its feet. She held it at spearpoint, “make a move and I gut you where you stand. All I need is your hand.” The Weequay made a mewling noise at the back of its throat and let her push it down the hallways where they took the right-hand corridor.

Obi-Wan looked at the last two. Neither looked in good shape, one had a broken nose and looked barely conscious, the other was dazed from where Jehr’s shoulder threw it against the wall. Obi-Wan brought the Weequay with the bloodied nose into a headlock. The guard began to struggle weakly but Obi-Wan delivered a sharp punch to its head. Instantly he felt it go limp in his arms. He let it drop to the floor unconscious and dragged the last Weequay to its feet, “I don’t think we need to waste time with weapons, do you?”

The Weequay shook its head sharply. Shouts of terror quickly rose from the arena, by the sound of things the Tuk’ata was out of control. Obi-Wan grabbed the Weequay’s arm and broke into a run straight down the corridor. He was headed back to his usual cell block. Already cries of the other prisoner’s freedom echoed through the hallways.

“What’s going to happen to me?” The Weequay asked, its voice wavered.

Obi-Wan cast it a quick glance, “I don’t know, and frankly don’t care.” The Weequay whimpered. Thankfully they were at the door to the block, “Give me your hand.” When the guard took too long Obi-Wan snarled and grabbed it and pressed the palm flat against the biopad. The door hissed open to reveal all the prisoners pressed up against the bars of their cells. They all stared expectantly at him, “open the cells.” He ordered the Weequay. The pathetic creature seemed to melt under his intense stare and slunk to the side. Obi-Wan watched as it pressed the button to open the doors. He turned back to the other prisoners, “we’re going back to the pit. We will storm the arena. We will–”

A shout from his left made Obi-Wan freeze. The Weequay leapt at him with a vibroshiv. Obi-Wan stepped backwards, reached up and grabbed the Weequay’s tunic and wrenched it back down to the floor. He snatched the shiv from its hands and, just as fast, stabbed it into the guard’s shoulder. He stood up, his gaze locked on the pitiful creature which cried out in new agony, “as I was saying...we will go to arena. There you will fight for your freedom.” The prisoners stepped out of their cells, still silently watching him.

“They’re waiting for you.” Riskyr spoke up from near the back, “You must lead them.”

“I’m not a leader.” Obi-Wan frowned. He turned his back on their expectant gazes, an odd tight feeling in his chest, and started to jog back down the corridor he had come from. He could hear the heavy footfalls behind him. The strange feeling morphed into one of expectant ecstasy. He was finally taking control. He and all those who had been captured, tortured, murdered they all ran with him down these dank and dirty corridors. Alive and dead they were an unstoppable force. His grin was feral as he burst back out into the light of the pit. Jehr and Na’vida were already there. The pit was packed. The seats were empty.

“Looks like the Tuk’ata did most of our work for us.” Na’vida poked a dismembered arm in the sand with her toe.

Suddenly the sound of heavy doors slamming shut reverberated through the space, “Carloc’s got a plan.” Obi-Wan muttered. He slunk closer to Jehr and Na’vida until they were back-to-back. The rest of the prisoners stared around too, some ready to fight, others looked downright terrified. Obi-Wan instinctively began instructing them, “break into small groups. Stay with the group. If you stick together, you’ll stand a better chance.” Obi-Wan called out, “don’t let yourself be fighting alone. You’ll be vulnerable and I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of being vulnerable for a lifetime.” The mob of captives shifted as they separated, some gave small supportive cheers. The feeling of expectancy returned as they once again looked to him.

He was saved from their gaze when a spear shaft drove through the skull of a Nikto who slumped to the floor, dead. A swarm of Weequay guards ran out from the tunnels all armed with various weapons. Obi-Wan felt his anger rise in his chest and let it fuel his response. He yelled and ran at the guards. Instantly the prisoners copied. The two forces clashed together and the pit became a battle field. Bodies were flying, weapons glinted in the sunlight, and blood soaked the sand. Chaos reigned. Obi-Wan stuck close to Jehr and Na’vida. He had managed to get his hands on a short vibrosword and wielded that in his left hand while throwing punches with his right and kicked viciously at any guard which came close. Bodies littered the floor around him. The Weequays did not last long. No-one would have stood a chance against such a huge number of experienced and desperate fighters. However, the prisoners had lost a significant number too. When they started there had been around sixty fighters, now they had been whittled down to almost twenty. As he moved around the pit, Obi-Wan saw a familiar face on the sand. Obi-Wan remembered reading the Jedi of the Old Republic’s epic poems of how they fought the Sith. They spoke of the glory and the honour of battle. They sung the praises of their heroes. Their poems never mentioned the stench of death, how the dying rattling gasps of the mortally wounded echo through the air, and how those slaughtered in battle look anything but peaceful. Riskyr’s body lay twisted on the floor. Her spine had been broken and her stomach had been torn open. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her mouth gaped. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let his guilt wash over him. He knew he was partly responsible for these deaths. The Sith scar spasmed viciously and he gasped at the sudden agony but forced himself to be still and silent.

“They would have died here anyway, kid.” Jehr seemed to have read his mind. His hand rested on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, he made himself stand straighter through the pulsing pain from the scar, “we need to get out of here before Carloc pulls something else on us.”

Obi-Wan nodded and gripped the sword in his hand tighter. He turned back to see the smaller group of prisoners waiting for his word, once again. He sighed to himself, “Look. I don’t have a grand plan. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want to get out of here.”

He and his fellow captives started to climb the wall, the ones up first reached back down the wall and helped pull the others up. Soon they were looking down at the pit. Looking down at the carnage and the bloodshed. Obi-Wan grit his teeth and looked away from the sand and stared at the closed doors. He had a score to settle.

The group of twenty ran down to the entrance. They drew to a halt when a pair of huge thick wooden doors greeted them. Obi-Wan turned back to the fighters, “we need to get this open” he pointed out the strongest looking of them, “If we get a running start we should be able to break this. You three” he pointed at a Houk, a Bothan, and Jehr, “will be at the front. You’re strong and will create a centre point for doors to break from. Aim for where they meet, it will be the weakest point. Everyone else” he shifted his gaze to the rest of the expectant onlookers, “we will go by their sides. If we all hit at the same time, we should be able to break it down.” He paused and nodded, “may the Force be with all of you.” He clapped a hand on Jehr’s shoulder as he moved into position, “make this count.”

“And you say you’re not a leader.” Jehr huffed a chuckled when Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, “I hope this works, kid.”

“Me too, Jehr.”

“Best of a bad situation.” Jehr threw a grin at Na’vida as he spoke who shook her head and smiled to herself.

Obi-Wan stood next to Jehr, Na’vida on his other side, and once again wished he could access the Force. He would be able to blow these doors of the hinges in the blink of an eye. Soon, he thought, soon I will be reconnected with the Force. “On my count” he gripped his hands into fists, “one” his heart pounded in his chest, this was madness, “two” he begged the Force to let this work, “three!”

The fighters sprinted at the door. The three leading the charge braced for impact, Obi-Wan curled his own shoulder forwards knowing this was going to hurt.

The wood splintered from the force of the dozens of bodes smashing into it. The plank which had been the lock snapped and the doors sprung wide open. The fighters streamed out of the door with a terrible roar. Outside the spectators still milled around, no doubt thinking they would go back in for more entertainment. Time to bring the action to them. The crowd froze when they saw the fighters running at them, wild eyed and with weapons raised. Obi-Wan, his own scream lost amongst the howls of his fellow prisoners, drew back his arm and threw his vibrosword at a Nemoidian. It sunk deep into its chest. Obi-Wan didn’t need it anymore. He knew exactly where he was going.

Straight ahead, close to the treeline was Carloc, the Besalisk stood next to him. On the Trandoshan’s hip, next to a long curved hunting knife, hung Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. With another burst of speed he broke from the pack and made a beeline for the Lizard. He saw in his peripheral vision Jehr and Na’vida right behind him. The Besalisk saw the trio coming right for them and cried out in fearful surprise. Na’vida screamed with rage and leapt upon him, she rained down blow after blow on the monster, Jehr followed her in time to catch the second pair of arms before they got hold of her. Obi-Wan saw no more their fight.

He collided with Carloc and tackled him to the ground. His speed took them several meters further back. They skidded to a stop. Obi-Wan jumped to his feet just as Carloc did. The Lizard opened his mouth to speak but Obi-Wan had had enough. He punched the Lizard right in the jaw. Carloc took the hit and with a grin launched a furious assault on Obi-Wan. Punches, elbows, and claws struck Obi-Wan rapidly. He barely managed to keep up, only just blocking blows but continually on the back foot. Blood ran down his face and into his eye, his body throbbed from all his injuries. Carloc hissed with triumph as he delivered a devastating punch right above Obi-Wan’s right ear. His head snapped to the side and he fell to the ground, stunned.

“Jedi scum.” Carloc hissed as Obi-Wan struggled to get back up, “you are weak. You will die here.” Carloc grabbed Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and waved it in front of his face, “This is mine.”

The world spun for Obi-Wan, his vision swam but his eyes never waved from the silver hilt, “Lizard scum” Obi-Wan snarled from where he slowly pulled himself to a crouch, “don’t hold a lightsaber in front of me when I am about to kill you.” He blinked, his sight slowly becoming more stable, “you’re making it too easy for me.”

Carloc began to laugh when Obi-Wan sprung up from the floor and put his entire bodyweight behind the punch to the Lizard’s stomach. Carloc doubled over, caught off guard, and stumbled backwards. Obi-Wan drove his knee up into Carloc’s chin then delivered a swift left hook. Carloc dropped the lightsaber but Obi-Wan continued his attack. With blinding speed he struck again and again and again, every blow broke Carloc down. Obi-Wan's lips were peeled back baring his teeth, his eyes shone with the rush of battle. Obi-Wan never gave him time to fight back. Finally, Obi-Wan leapt into the air spinning as he kicked his leg out. Time seemed to slow. He saw everything in perfect detail. He saw how the scales reflected the sunlight dully. He saw the trees shifting lazily in the breeze. He saw Carloc’s horizontal pupils contract as he realised what was about to happen. He saw his heel connect with Carloc’s temple and felt the impact up his leg. Suddenly time was normal again and he landed lightly on the ground as the Lizard crashed to the floor. Obi-Wan bent down and grabbed the hunting knife from Carloc’s belt. He hauled the dazed Trandoshan to a sitting position and gripped his chin forcing Carloc to look up at him.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment for weeks.” Obi-Wan spat a gob of blood to the floor, “You deserve to feel the pain you caused so many people to suffer, but I can’t let you escape. I hope you know your death will mean nothing. You die defeated.” Obi-Wan stabbed the tip of the blade deep in Carloc’s throat and pulled it quickly sideways. Blood gushed from his neck. Carloc’s eyes were wide and locked on Obi-Wan as his clawed hands weakly tried to stem the bleeding. His gasps became gurgles as his lungs filled with his blood. Obi-Wan emotionlessly stared down at Carloc as he died , knife still gripped in his bloodied hand. At last Carloc gave one final wet wheeze and his arms dropped to floor. Carloc’s eyes faded to flat hollow empty yellow irises. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Lizard and kicked the body off his legs as he slid the knife into his belt.

His chest heaved with great gasping breaths and his hands shook. He glanced behind him and saw Na’vida break one of the Besalisk’s arms while Jehr raked his talons through the soft flesh of its stomach. Obi-Wan slowly walked over to his lightsaber and picked it up. He gripped the familiar handle and closed his eyes as he stood in the sunlight. The noise from the prisoners fighting with the crowd, the sound of Na’vida yelling as she snapped the Besalisk’s neck, the whisper of leaves in trees rustling in the wind all faded into white noise. He tilted his face up to the sun and closed his eyes.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan snapped his eyes open and looked to his right when he heard a voice he’d dreaded hearing for months. Slowly emerging from the trees was Qui-Gon, Bant, and Quin. All traces of his previously relaxed stature gone he moved to fully face them.

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said again. His former Master looked warily concerned as he approached.

“I told you not to try and find me, Qui-Gon.” His voice was cold and guarded.

His former Master flinched when Obi-Wan spoke his name, “I couldn’t not try and find you, knowing you were still alive.”

Obi-Wan scoffed, “that didn’t stop you at Theed.” His mind was spinning faster and faster. The adrenaline rush from his fight with Carloc returned alongside the echoes of Maul. He chose Anakin over you. He just stood and watched Maul drag you away. He made no effort to help you, just held on to the boy. He left you. Left you to die, to suffer. He abandoned you for an untrained child.

“That was different.” Qui-Gon pressed his lips together.

Obi-Wan glanced around the area behind the three Jedi, “no little Padawan with you?” His stare burned with fire. He abandoned you. Obi-Wan felt a stab of savage enjoyment as Qui-Gon seemed to diminish under his gaze, “you haven’t passed him over too, have you?”

“Anakin’s in the ship–”

“You brought him with you? Here?” Obi-Wan's shock broke him out of his spiralling rage, “have you lost your mind?” he shook his head, “He is a child, Qui-Gon.”

“Obi-Wan please come back with us to the Temple.” Bant’s voice was soft, her eyes were wide and pleading.

Hearing her voice, all the fight drained from his body, “I can’t.” His own voice cracked as he took a step back.

“Please, Padawan.” As soon as Qui-Gon spoke Obi-Wan’s confused anger returned.

“You don’t get to call me that.” Tears of rage filled Obi-Wan’s eyes, “not after you cast me aside.” Qui-Gon stood and just watched you get dragged away.

“I never meant for this to happen.”

“Yeah, well it did, Qui-Gon. You pretty much repudiated me in front of the whole Council” he stepped forwards, “you decided after months of telling me I wasn’t ready that I could complete the Trails without consulting me, without even a hint of your plan.” He let the tears spill from his eyes, “you never wanted me.” He was standing right in front of Qui-Gon now, “You were too consumed by your past, by your broken love of Xanatos. You blamed me for Melida/Daan and for Tahl’s death. You almost gave me up for a seat on the Council. You never even wanted me in the first place, it was only because of Yoda's plan you were forced to ask me. You were always too resentful of me being so different to yourself to ever want me. To ever really care about me.” He jabbed a finger against Qui-Gon’s chest, “always scolding me about attachments when you yourself were too selfish to let go of your own.”

“Obi-Wan, please, you have to let go of your anger.” Qui-Gon sounded verging on desperation.

Obi-wan spun around and threw his arms in hair with a shout of frustration, “For fuck’s sake, Qui-Gon. Don’t you understand?” I can’t.” His breathing became hitched as he pointed his finger at himself this time, “I can’t let go. I’ve been too angry too long. Maul got in here” he gestured at his head, “and he won’t leave.” He paused, his chest heaving again. When Obi-Wan next spoke, his voice was quiet and almost broken, “He made me angry at you. Led me to blame you for Theed. He made me hate you. Even now, months after I killed him, I can’t get those thoughts from my head. All I hear when I see you is how you left me for a child you just found. And here” Obi-Wan indicated with his head at the arena, “I needed that anger to survive. I haven’t had the Force to help me for a long time. I haven’t had anyone for a long time.”

“I never should have left you on Naboo.” Qui-Gon reached out an arm as though to touch Obi-Wan, “It’s plagued me every moment since.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about this again. Even if you’re not a phantom from the Sith mask, I won’t do it.”

Obi-Wan saw the Jedi exchange glances at his words. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes as he let his head tilt down. The collar around his neck bit into his skin. He reached up and pulled it away from his throat. He’d had enough of being cut off from the Force. He ignited his lightsaber, the hum from the blade made him feel slightly calmer. Obi-Wan heard Quin shout his name as he quickly sliced through the collar and let it drop to ground. He closed his eyes and waited for the onslaught of agony.

When Obi-Wan had been on Bandomeer, before becoming Qui-Gon’s Padawan learner, he had been forced to wear a Force Suppressant collar for a short time when he had been captured by the mining company, OffWorld. When the collar had been removed his reconnection to the Force had left him reeling for several minutes afterwards and a migraine plagued him for two days afterwards. Obi-Wan knew that just over three weeks of being completely cut off from the Force would be nearly unbearable.

It was.

He couldn’t cry out. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. He dully felt the ground strike his knees and felt his shoulder quickly follow. His brain felt like it was melting. The agony was paralysing. He could sense everything. It was overstimulating and completely overwhelming. He could feel the Force through the foliage, could feel the fading lights as fighters and spectators died, could see the dazzling energy that had been held away from him for so long. On instinct he threw up his shields. They were weaker than he would like but considering he had been cut off so long they would have to do and locked his agony within himself. The Sith scar, having felt the Force’s touch burst with fresh pain. He felt the stones and mud pressed against his cheek as he gasped and opened his eyes. Nausea made him wallow thickly. He felt a wetness on his lips and brought a hand up to find blood come away, it dribbled out of nose joining the blood on the rest of his face. The ringing in his ears gradually faded and a muffled sound started to become clearer.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Na’vida sounded furious. Her lek writhed against her back as she glared at the group of Jedi who looked speechless. No doubt they felt a fraction of Obi-Wan’s reconnection with the Force.

Obi-Wan groaned and pushed himself to his knees.

“Kid are you good?” Jehr crouched next to him and gripped his shoulder. His eyes looked very worried.

Obi-Wan nodded, “I’m fine. ‘Vida” she stopped shouting but kept her gaze on the Jedi, “I’m fine. I’m just reconnecting with the Force. I’m good.” He sucked in a deep breath and slowly stood up. He felt whole again. Shaky but complete. It made him realise how unbalanced and empty he’d been feeling. He let the Force flow around himself, relishing in its familiar embrace once again. He diverted a decent amount to his back which was burning. When he wrapped the Force around it the pain reduced to a persistent throb. Qui-Gon, Bant and Quin shone in the Force. Bright and full of Light. Obi-Wan knew he must look very different to them. He felt different to himself. Thick tendrils of Darkness flowed through his own signature. Obi-Wan looked down at where he had dropped his lightsaber and called it to his hand. He let himself smile fractionally. Force he’d missed that.

“Where will you go?” Quin sounded uncharacteristically small.

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan answered. He felt terrible making his friends witness his argument with Qui-Gon. Bant looked very pale and Quin’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. Obi-Wan could feel their worry for him through the Force.

The wind filled the silence that hung between the two groups.

Qui-Gon broke the silence, “You won’t even consider coming home?” This time Obi-Wan’s anger rose with the power of the Force behind it. Some must have leaked through his shields for they all flinched, “We can help you, Obi-Wan.”

“Stop talking, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan turned away from the Jedi shrouding himself in the Force. He desperately wanted to get off this moon and away from the pitying eyes of his friends.

Ever the stubborn Jedi, Qui-Gon persisted, “I know I hurt you, Obi-Wan. No apology will ever be enough. I know that.” His former Master approached Obi-Wan, he could feel Qui-Gon reaching out through the Force. Obi-Wan blocked him, he saw Qui-Gon swallow the pain of rejection, “If you come with us, the Council will understand, you’re still a Jedi, they will help you. You’re still my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan felt the latent Darkness in his heart explode. He spun around and ignited his lightsaber halting his swing just below Qui-Gon’s throat as he released a powerful wave of Dark energy. A tree behind Bant was ripped in half and a boulder next to it disintegrated to dust. Bant, Quin, and Qui-Gon paled and for the first time they looked afraid of him. The blue light from his blade illuminated his former Master’s face, “stay the fuck away from me, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan’s voice trembled with a terrible fury yet his hand was completely still, “I don’t want an apology. I don’t want anything from you. I’ve learnt the Jedi Code isn’t infallible, I’ve learnt how it feels to be completely alone, I’ve learnt not to fear the Dark Side. And I learnt that all without you.” He paused as he drew the writhing Darkness back, balanced it with the Light, “The Council won’t accept me. Not now. I’m not a Jedi. Not in the same way you are.” A bright light suddenly burst into being in the Force. A signature he knew. Anakin. Obi-Wan lowered his lightsaber and deactivated the blade as he saw the boy’s silhouette racing through the thick foliage towards them, “For Anakin’s sake I hope you stop following me. He needs you. Don’t fail another Padawan, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan gave Bant and Quin one last look, imprinting their faces into his mind as he made to leave.

"May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan." Quin spoke softly.

Obi-Wan paused and turned, "And with you." He gave him and Bant a little smile. He spared his former Master one last glance. Qui-Gon looked shocked and heartbroken. His signature, normally continuously shifting and ebbing with the flow of the Living Force, was frozen. His eyes looked conflicted, like he wanted to say something more.

Obi-Wan couldn’t give him a chance. He started walking away from the Jedi. He knew in his heart that Maul had warped his mind, twisted his emotions and had left them in tattered ruins. But his brain clashed with his heart, screaming at him that Qui-Gon was the root of every pain and injustice Obi-Wan had suffered. Obi-Wan knew he won’t be able to move past the conditioning Maul had inflicted for a long time and he especially would not let Anakin see that. Force knows that boy had been through enough trauma already. He didn’t need to see Obi-Wan tear down his idealistic vision of Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan couldn’t ruin that for him.

Na’vida and Jehr fell into step beside him. Obi-Wan heard Anakin cry out his name faintly. He kept walking. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t for he knew if he did, he might not be able to keep moving away. The Force felt like it was mourning. Mourning a bond not yet made. Obi-Wan’s heart clenched as he heard Anakin’s pleading sobs for him to come back.

Obi-Wan looked ahead and kept walking forwards.