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The cantina in Mos Eisley wasn’t the best cantia in the galaxy. And it definitely wasn’t the cleanest. Still, for a worn-out man with a beard that was already starting to turn grey, it was good enough.
Obi-Wan Kenobi sat at a table in the back, idly sipping his drink as he stared off at nothing, ignoring the sounds of the Bith band playing in one corner of the room. He hadn’t bothered to ask what the band was named, nor what they were playing. However, it had been the same song every single time he came in here, so he was beginning to suspect it was all they knew.
Setting down his drink, Obi-Wan let out a low sigh. He wasn’t actually sure what he was doing here. He made the occasional trip into town from his remote hut, picking up supplies and entertaining random locals with stories of how he’d found the lightsaber he couldn’t quite bring himself to put away.
But he didn’t need supplies right now. So why was he in Mos Eisley? Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure. A feeling, perhaps. Something in his meditations had prompted him to take the long trek into town and spend a few hours in the mediocre cantina.
Something of a waste of time, but I should have known, Obi-Wan thought. I’ll finish my drink and then get going. It was a long trip back to his house, and he didn’t want to waste time.
He was just reaching for his mug when a tall figure, hooded and cloaked, dropped into the seat across from him. Obi-Wan held back a sigh with some difficulty-- he’d been hoping to get out of the cantina without the inevitable barfight one always seemed to bump into here.
“If you’re looking for credits, my friend, you’ve found the wrong desert hermit,” he told the hooded figure.
“I don’t know about that.”
Obi-Wan froze, his hand inches from his drink. That voice-- but it couldn’t be.
Reaching up, the figure pushed back his hood to reveal the cheerful features, dreadlocked hair and yellow tattoo of Quinlan Vos. “You seem to be exactly the desert hermit I’m looking for,” he said with a smirk.
Completely stunned, Obi-Wan could only gape as Vos reached forward and snagged his mug. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said conversationally, taking a drink.
“I rather feel that I have,” Obi-Wan managed. “Vos-- how--”
“Now you know how I felt when I caught wind of you,” Vos said with a grimace. “And on Tatooine, of all places. What brought you to this… charming place?”
“I had my reasons,” Obi-Wan said vaguely, recovering his wits at Vos’s question. “Vos, how are you alive? And what are you doing? Didn’t you get my message?”
“Message?” Vos looked confused, then his expression cleared. “Ah, yes, the “we’ve been betrayed by the Republic who’ve become a bunch of fascists, and you’ve gotta make a run for it while you still can, trust in the Force'' thing. Yeah, I got that.”
“And you still decided it was a good idea to come and find me?”
Downing the rest of Obi-Wan’s drink, Vos grimaced. “You know, for a craphole in the Outer Rim, Tatooine has equally crappy alcohol. I guess it’s an acquired taste.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Well, death hasn’t changed you much.”
“I’ve got better things to do.” Vos’s face grew serious, a rarity for him. “What happened, Kenobi?”
“Exactly what I said in my message,” Obi-Wan said. “The Jedi were turned on by the clones--”
“Yeah, yeah. I know that story, I lived it. I’m talking about you.” Vos narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing on Tatooine?”
“It seemed the best place to hide out.”
“Uh-huh,” Vos said, not looking convinced. “Where’s Skywalker?”
Obi-Wan had been expecting that question, but it still hit him hard. “Gone,” he responded simply.
Sitting back in his chair, Vos shook his head. “You’re kidding. No-- of course you aren’t. You never joke, especially not about this.” He was quiet, then asked, “Have you heard from any other survivors?”
“No. They-- unlike some people I could name-- know better than to chase after their companions. The only ones I know are alive for certain are you and Master Yoda.”
“Master Windu?”
“Killed, by the Emperor.”
Lowering his gaze, Vos sighed. “Force. Even him. How does something go that wrong?” He glanced at Obi-Wan. “What’s our next move?”
Getting up from his chair, Obi-Wan said, “Well, I can’t speak for you, but mine is to go home and get a good night’s sleep.”
Vos openly gaped at him. “What?”
“It’s a long trek home, Vos. Don’t try to make me late with inane questions.”
“You can’t be serious-- you’re just giving up?”
“So it would seem,” Obi-Wan responded. “If I were you, I’d get moving. I have a peaceful life here, and I don’t want your sudden appearance to complicate matters. Goodbye, Vos.” With that, he turned and made his way towards the cantina’s entrance.
He’d only made it a few steps when he heard Vos get out of his seat and move after him. “I’m not buying,” he declared, keeping in step with Obi-Wan easily. “So, you’re just abandoning any hope of fixing what happened? Of getting justice, of fighting the Empire?”
“I spent several years of my life fighting an impossible war that only hastened the arrival of the Empire,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “After that, I’d rather not start another one.”
“Kenobi, you can’t just give up. Not after we lost--”
Obi-Wan jerked to a halt just outside the cantina. “Don’t,” he told Vos, his voice cold. “I know what we lost better than anyone. Don’t tell me why I can’t do this.”
Vos stared at him for a long moment, his brown eyes unreadable. “What really happened?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“What really happened to Skywalker? You know I don’t have to ask.” Vos reached out to touch him, and Obi-Wan jerked away.
“You don’t want to try that. I know what you’re thinking, Vos, and you’re wrong. There’s nothing else to tell. The Order is gone, the war is over, and there’s nothing else that can be done.”
A deep frown formed on Vos’s face. “I understand that you think that. But you’re forgetting, I know you pretty well, Kenobi. You’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
Lunging forward, he moved as if to seize Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and Obi-Wan automatically grabbed his arm, holding him back. And then felt the familiar weight of his saber at his belt jerk as Vos pulled it away with the Force and into his hand.
“Vos, don’t--”
But it was too late. Vos’s fingers wrapped around Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hilt. His eyes snapped closed, he jerked convulsively and his knees gave out, hitting the sand with a thud.
~ ~ ~
Quinlan Vos had seen a lot of things in life. He’d handled plenty of the seedier side of the galaxy. He’d seen countless lives destroyed by the Clone War. He’d watched the love of his life die in his arms. He’d found his apprentice, dead from countless blaster wounds, cut down by the men she’d trusted with her life. He’d dealt with the Dark Side, up close and personal.
But the minute his hand closed around Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber, he was catapulted into a vision unlike any he’d ever seen before. The memories came at him, dark and chaotic and filled with pain, so fast Vos could only catch snatches of them--
Fighting Dooku. Fighting Ventress. Fighting Grievous. Over and over and over again, as the war dragged on, against droids and pirates and Sith. Obi-Wan longed for the day when the war would be over. But until then he would do his duty, as always--
Taking out droids, side by side with Anakin and Ahsoka. Obi-Wan had never known that joy, or any semblance of peace, could be found in a war, but here it was as his two apprentices fell into easy banter, competing, Anakin doing his best to protect Ahsoka from her enemies and from the darkness around them--
Dueling Maul. Always Maul. Again and again, until the Sith finally found his way to someone, something that mattered--
Batting away blaster bolts as he listened to Bo-Katan’s request for Republic help, his heart still stunned and cold at the loss of the woman he’d loved, too late--
Defeating Grievous on Utapau. Commander Cody returning his lightsaber with a smirk hidden behind his usual professional manner. No sooner had he done that than it was his blaster that shot Obi-Wan and his ride out of the sky, plummeting into a cavern below with the stab of betrayal in his heart--
Fighting his way into the Temple with Master Yoda. Seeing the holorecording. Watching it play over and over again in his mind as he gave Padmé the news, watching her deny it as Obi-Wan wanted to so badly--
Mustafar. Watching the boy he’d raised try to kill the woman he loved. Taking up his saber again, knowing that there was only one way he and Padmé were getting out of here alive, and that was if he killed Anakin Skywalker. And even then, at the end, watching him burn, screaming out in pain and rage, Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to kill the Sith that his apprentice had become--
Vos’s eyes snapped open, and he let out a groan, pain throbbing through his head. He tasted bile in his mouth and realized he must have been sick at some point. Pushing himself to his hands and knees, he took a heaving breath, and became aware of a hand on his shoulder.
“I told you not to.” Kenobi’s voice was sad and soft, as if he knew what Vos had seen. And he had, Vos supposed, seeing as he’d lived it.
A half-dozen witty responses ran through Vos’s head, and he discarded them all. This was not the time for sarcasm. Sitting up and back on his heels, he locked eyes with Kenobi. “Force, Kenobi. What-- it was Skywalker?”
The pain on Kenobi’s face was unmistakable as he softly replied, “Yes. It was Anakin. The Dark Side claimed him.”
Shaking his head, Vos muttered, “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Kenobi admitted.
“Is he still alive?”
He looked up in time to see Kenobi’s hesitation. “I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps. But Anakin is long gone, even if he is.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Vos muttered, memories flickering over him. “Senator Amidala, she could--”
“The senator is dead, Vos. She died in childbirth.”
Vos’s eyes went wide at Kenobi’s words. “You’re kidding-- Skywalker and her-- huh. What happened to the kid?”
Kenobi didn’t answer right away, and a few pieces clicked together in Vos’s mind. “They’re here. You’re protecting them.”
“I can’t confirm that,” Kenobi told him. “If Padmé Amidala’s child remained alive, when they and she are dead to the rest of the galaxy, that information would be incredibly dangerous right now. If it were to reach the Empire’s ears--”
“Say no more,” Vos said, lifting a hand. “I got the picture.”
“Thank you.”
They were both quiet after that. The suns in the sky above them were sinking towards the horizon, but neither man moved. Finally, Kenobi spoke.
“You never told me how you survived.”
Letting out a snort, Vos replied, “A healthy combination of pure dumb luck and irony. Right place, right time sort of thing. Not true for a lot of others.” He hesitated, then said, “I found her. Aayla.”
Kenobi looked up at the words. “I’m so sorry, Vos.”
“I know. So am I. I kept her saber, though. The Empire can only have so much of them.” Vos sighed, thinking of the lightsaber locked in a drawer on his ship that he was afraid to touch. Of the limp blue body of the Jedi Knight he’d trained, burned dark with blaster wounds.
Turning to Kenobi, he said, “The galaxy’s taken a lot from us, hasn’t it?”
“Too much,” Kenobi agreed.
Nodding, Vos made up his mind as he said, “I’m not going to let the same happen to others.” Rising to his feet, he offered Kenobi a hand, which his friend reluctantly took. Hauling him to his feet, Vos said, “I’m not staying.”
“I’m not surprised,” Kenobi replied. “And what exactly do you plan to do here?”
“Give back to those who have less than me. Take the Empire, for instance. They have a lot less pain than I do, and I aim to rectify that. Besides, there are others. I’m sure of it. And since I’m an expert on this sort of thing, I’ll see who I can help.”
“I can’t come with you. And I certainly can’t help you.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Vos said, “I know. You’ve got your own mission, and I understand it. Just remember, Kenobi-- I’m around if you need help. All you’ve got to do is reach out.”
“I’ll remember it,” Kenobi agreed. Taking a deep breath, he offered Vos his hand. “Until next time, my friend. May the Force be with you.”
“And you,” Vos replied, clasping his arm for a moment before releasing it and watching the former Jedi Master walk out towards the desert. Until our next meeting, he thought.