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Obi-Wan was lost.
The expansive desert didn’t exactly have a lot of landmarks. At least none that he was familiar with yet. It wasn’t often that Obi-Wan got lost, but now he seemed to be getting lost all the time. Maybe his sense of direction hadn’t been as good as he thought. Maybe, now that he was alone with no one else to bounce ideas off of, he was just proving himself to be as directionally challenged as he once criticized Anakin for being.
Don’t think about that.
He shook his empty canteen as if it would magically make water appear. He glared at the empty container before setting off again. Grains of sand had worked their way into his boots and into his socks somehow. They cut into his skin and irritated his already blistered feet. Obi-Wan regretted making fun of Anakin’s dislike for sand so much.
Don’t think about that.
He trod on, squinting at the horizon in a vain search for something, anything that looked familiar to him. Sweat coated his skin and made his hair damp. His breath came in heavy, labored pants and dizziness was starting to make it difficult to walk in a straight, even line.
“I knew there was a reason I hated desert planets,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself.
“Oh, Padawan mine. It’s so like you to be stuck in the past or worried about the future. Focus on what is in front of you, and you will find your way out of this.”
Obi-Wan yelped and jumped backwards, lightsaber now ablaze.
What?
“Who’s there?” Obi-Wan shouted, looking around every which way. Nothing. Endless nothing.
“The villagers are right. I have gone mad,” Obi-Wan said under his breath. He disengaged his saber and turned back in the direction he was going.
“Perhaps,” the same familiar voice said before Obi-Wan could get very far. His hand flew back to his saber, but he didn’t engage it. “Or perhaps you’ve just lost your way.”
Obi-Wan whipped around and came face to face with someone he never thought he would come face to face with again.
“Master Qui-Gon?” he whispered, blinking the sweat out of his eyes.
“Yes.”
He looked the same as he had all those years ago. Tall and imposing, but with kind, blue eyes and graying, chestnut-colored hair. A million thoughts, a million questions, raced through Obi-Wan’s head. “I have gone mad haven’t I?”
“Possibly,” Qui-Gon said. “Or maybe you’re just dehydrated. You should probably find some water. Or shade. Or a different planet.”
Obi-Wan huffed. “Alright, alright you’re just in my head. But why are you here?”
“It seemed you could use a little help, Padawan.”
“Oh sure, I could absolutely use a little help... from someone who is actually alive and not a figment of my imagination.”
“Well, I can’t help you there,” not-Qui-Gon said pensively. “You’re stuck with me for now it appears.”
“Lovely. Just me and my dead Master alone in the desert.” Obi-Wan began walking again. He grimaced at the nausea building in his stomach. To his annoyance, not-Qui-Gon continued to follow him. He did his best to ignore the illusion. It only hurt to look at yet another reminder of how truly alone he was now.
“You’re troubled.”
“You’re dead.”
“Stranger things have happened. Maybe I’m here at the will of the Force.”
“The Force does not will anything anymore,” Obi-Wan said, bitterness marring his tone and pinching his brows together. “Only darkness. You’re here at the will of my dehydrated mind. You’re a mirage created by my subconscious and nothing more.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure that’s all this is.”
The statement was enough to give Obi-Wan pause before he shook his head and scoffed. “Stop trying to rationalize the irrational.”
“Now that sounds like something I would say.”
“Yes, well, evidently I can’t get you out of my head.”
“Oh, my dear Padawan, you always did struggle with your attachments.”
“Yes yes, I know, I struggle with attachments,” Obi-Wan said exasperated, though a fresh pang of guilt had struck him anew. For all the criticism he gave Anakin about his attachments, he himself had also struggled to let go of the people he cared about – especially Anakin. Maybe if he had been able to get that point through to Anakin, well then, maybe… Don’t think about that.
Obi-Wan felt not-Qui-Gon’s not-eyes staring at him in that impassive way he had. When he did that, Obi-Wan could never tell what he was thinking. It had always driven him up the wall as a Padawan.
“Would you go away please?”
“Only you can make me go away.”
Obi-Wan growled in frustration. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to help you,” Qui-Gon said earnestly.
“Can you find a way out of this desert?”
“No.”
“Can you make water magically appear in this canteen?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Can you undo what has been done?”
“No. No one can, my Padawan. You know that.”
“Then no. You cannot help me.” Obi-Wan would have spat if his mouth wasn’t so dry. The horizon before him blurred slightly. He shook his head and kept moving. Qui-Gon followed along silently.
“Why did it have to be me, huh?” Obi-Wan finally asked, unable to take the silence for a moment longer. “Why me? Why did I have to train him? Why would you put that on me? I was young. Inexperienced. Barely even a man myself and now... all of this… everything… It’s all on me. It should have been you . Our places should have been switched. I should have been the one to die on Naboo, not you. The galaxy would be a better place for it.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Of course I am. I did the best I could but...” Obi-Wan sighed. “I will forever be sorry that that was not enough.”
“Oh Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon sighed sadly. “Remember your training. Let go of your regrets. Focus on the here and now.”
Obi-Wan stopped walking and whipped around to face Qui-Gon, to tell him to shut up already about the here and now, but the words died on his lips. His old Master was gone. Obi-Wan looked around and once again found himself alone in the desert. He sighed and kept moving.
The dunes were difficult to traverse. With every step he sunk deeper into them, making each step more laborious than the last. On his next step, he sunk deeper than expected and lost his balance. He fell over and rolled a few feet down the side of the dune. Lying there, squinting up at the bright blue sky, he couldn’t help but think that this was an unfortunate way for him to die – a Jedi, lost and alone with no one to miss him.
“I didn’t think you were the type to give in so easily, Master.”
The bright voice of his former Grandpadawan startled Obi-Wan. He sat up quickly but regretted it as his world seemed to spin. When his head cleared, he blinked at her with confusion.
“Ahsoka?”
“Uh, yeah? Who else?”
“I don’t know. I guess I should be glad you’re not Qui-Gon anymore. I don’t suppose you’re going to lecture me on living in the present moment are you?”
“No, I am not Master Kenobi.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Dunno. But I’m here for a reason. Maybe Master Qui-Gon was onto something. Maybe you just can’t let me go.”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t see what’s so difficult about it. You let me go pretty easily all those years ago. Now look where we are.”
Dizziness and nausea overcame him. Obi-Wan turned to the side and threw up what little was in his stomach. Panting heavily and with sweat rolling into his eyes, he tried to focus on pushing the mirage away. It wasn’t working. The illusion of his former grandpadawan persisted – standing before him as though she were really there.
“Ahsoka, I-”
“Maybe if you had fought for me a little harder I would have still been there for Anakin. Seeing as how you weren’t enough for him and all.”
Fresh, raw despair coiled inside of him. This wasn’t Ahsoka talking. She would never talk to him like this – even after everything he’d done, or rather, didn’t do, for her. But that didn’t matter. Not to the mirage.
“Anakin’s choices were his own. You couldn’t have stopped him,” Obi-Wan said, but he didn’t sound convinced even to his own ears.
“Oh, just because you couldn’t stop him, you think no one else could have?”
“I…” he stuttered. “I don’t know.” He hung his head in shame.
“Oh well. It’s all over now. And you know what’s funny?”
“What?” he asked, his voice rasping over the word. Obi-Wan had a feeling this next part wouldn’t be funny at all.
“You don’t even know if I’m actually alive,” not-Ahsoka taunted. “I could be dead like the rest of them and you will never know.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to believe that. It was too much. Ahsoka got away. End of story. He had to believe that. “No. You escaped.”
“Maybe. But if I did, I’m now out in the galaxy all alone. Just as you are now. Is that what you wanted for me? For your lineage?”
“Of course not.”
“But it’s what happened. Your legacy is one of pain and death.”
“I do not care about leaving a legacy.”
“No. You’re right. You don’t care about that. You do care about the people in that legacy. The people you love. I mean, that’s why I’m here right? You care too much.”
“Why are you still here?” Obi-Wan asked, annoyed.
“Because you are.”
He sighed and stared at the vast, barren nothing that stretched out before him.
“So, Master,” Ahsoka said. “How are you gonna get yourself out of this one?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered honestly.
“Well, you definitely won’t find out if you keep sitting there. Get up.”
He groaned, but slowly got back on his feet. “Ahsoka, you know I never meant-” Obi-Wan stopped. She was gone.
He shook his head and began walking again, albeit at a much slower pace than before. He struggled to lift his feet above the sand as he continued to sink into it.
“Come along, Ben. You’ll never get anywhere dragging your feet like that.”
Obi-Wan could swear his heart stopped beating, if only for a moment. He tripped over himself again and landed on his hands and knees. She laughed and it sounded like her. Her laugh – musical and charming and vibrant as she always had been. It wasn’t mocking, just amused in that smug way of hers. He looked up.
“Satine?”
“Well, who else is going to call you Ben?” Satine questioned playfully. “Oh wait. I forgot that’s what you’re going by these days. Very funny.”
“It wasn’t really meant to be funny.”
“No, I guess nothing is funny anymore,” she sighed.
“Do you have some grand point you want to make or are you going to leave me alone?”
“Come now. That’s no way to talk to a Duchess.”
“Under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to agree, however, I’m not talking to a Duchess. I’m talking to myself because you’re dead and I’ve clearly gone mad.”
“Regardless, I wouldn’t want you to talk to yourself that way either.”
Obi-Wan sighed. “You’re right. You wouldn’t want me to talk like that.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m never wrong,” Satine smiled softly.
He couldn’t help but smile at that. “Of course not, Duchess.”
She was as beautiful as ever. A deep longing made its home inside of him. “I should have left,” Obi-Wan confessed.
“Left?”
“I should have left the order. For you. All those years ago… we could have been happy together. You would have lived. I would have never met…”
“Obi,” she said softly. “You know that you could never have left the Jedi. Even for me.”
“I could have. I would have, had I known…”
“Would you have? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I would.”
“No, I don’t believe so. You would have stayed even if you had known what would come of it. If you had known, you would have fought for him as you fight for everyone.”
“A lot of good it does me.”
“You never did it for you.” She sounded so sure and so real that for a fleeting moment, Obi-Wan reached out for her, but instead of grasping delicate fingers, his hand closed around nothing but warm air. She wasn’t really there and never would be. He knew that.
“Come on, Ben. You’ll die out here if you don’t get moving. I would be very cross with you if that happened.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “You would , wouldn’t you?”
Gathering up the last shreds of his willpower, he rose again. He talked to her for some time, even after she disappeared. He had stopped caring about how crazy he looked. There was no one around to judge him either way, but after a while, his dehydration caught up with him and his voice became a harsh rasp. He stopped talking and focused on moving forward. Whether forward was the right direction, he knew not.
The horizon began to tilt and before he knew it, Obi-Wan was once again on his hands and knees in the sand.
“Honestly, Master. I don’t know why everyone thought I was the clumsy one between the two of us. You get your arm cut off one time and you never hear the end of it.”
No. Obi-Wan thought he was going to be sick again.
“No. Not you,” Obi-Wan pleaded. He stared at the ground, he couldn’t bring himself to look up at the cruel illusion just yet. “Please not you.”
“Sorry Master. You’re stuck with me,” Anakin said cheekily.
Obi-Wan looked up. Force, why does he look so real? Tears burned in Obi-Wan’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, Master?” Anakin said, a worried lilt to his tone. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Why not?” Not-Anakin questioned, dejection soaking through his tone.
Why does he sound so real?
“You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real.”
“Well, I’m here.”
“You’re dead. I… I killed you.”
“Yes, that does complicate our relationship a bit doesn’t it?” Anakin said. “Not that it wasn’t complicated before that. Not that you were aware of any of it.”
“I knew things were different , but I didn’t realize… I didn’t see the signs.”
“Which is a shame because there were so many of them,” Anakin said. The words were grave, but his tone was that same joking tone he had always had. “But you’ll have plenty of time to think about all of those signs while you’re on Tatooine. Assuming you get yourself out of here, that is.”
“Yes, assuming,” Obi-Wan muttered.
“So, what do you miss most about me?”
“What?”
“I figured we might as well talk,” Anakin said. “Since there’s nothing else to do.”
“And you want me to tell you what I miss most about you?”
“Come on Master, you know me. You know I rely on external validation. Maybe if I had had a bit more of that…”
“Okay okay fine, just shut up.”
“I’m listening,” Anakin said expectantly.
“I miss… I miss having your back, and you having mine. That was… that was the one constant. Always. Until… well. I’ve never had that with anyone. Not even Qui-Gon. Only you.”
“Mmm yes, that’s a good one,” Anakin agreed.
A ghost of a smile crossed Obi-Wan’s lips. “I miss your awkwardness. You were always so awkward. With the council, with Padme… I don’t know where you got it from, but it was… endearing.”
“I wasn’t that awkward,” Anakin said indignantly.
“I miss your kindness. Everything you ever did was to help other people. Not everyone saw that, but I did. I knew it was all you ever wanted. Even in the end...”
Obi-Wan was surprised by the choked sob that escaped his lips. Suddenly all of his emotions were crawling their way to the surface. Anger, uncertainty, grief, all of it. He couldn’t look at the visage of his former Padawan anymore.
“Why are you even here?” he questioned hoarsely, his voice as broken as he was.
“Fine. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll leave you to it,” Anakin said, gesturing at the expanse of sand that stretched on for miles.
In spite of himself, something desperate in Obi-Wan surfaced at the thought of Anakin disappearing so soon. He knew it was ridiculous, because how could Anakin leave if he was never truly there? But he was past reason at this point. “Anakin, wait,” he shouted. Or well, he tried to shout. His dry voice crackled around the words.
The mirage paused and gave Obi-Wan a raised eyebrow.
“I’ve thought about you every day. Every single day . I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Not-Anakin frowned. He looked at Obi-Wan with a grave expression.
“Master, you have to let me go.”
“I- I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do. You will do it the same way you did it with all the others. You have to,” Anakin said gravely. “If you don’t let me go, you won’t be able to protect my son and you have to protect my son.”
“What if I can’t?”
“You have no other choice, Obi-Wan,” not-Anakin said. “He is your only hope.”
The mirage vanished.
Alone again.
On his knees, Obi-Wan allowed himself this moment. He allowed himself to weep over what was lost – what he had lost. He allowed himself to let go.
The heat of the day was lessening. Soon, it would give way to the cold darkness of night. The twin suns were creeping ever closer to the horizon. Slowly, painfully, Obi-Wan stood up and began walking towards them. He knew it was the right direction.