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“That should do it…” Obi-Wan grunted as he snapped the transponder back into place with a small shove. The screen above flickered to life, showing Republic communications-band readouts.
The Jedi turned toward Ventress, who lounged in the other cockpit chair with a bored and somehow still haughty expression.
“Can you at least pretend not to look while I enter my top-secret communications code?” He asked with a sigh.
Ventress snorted derisively but rotated the chair away with a lazy push of one foot on the console, “As you wish, General.” she smirked.
Obi-Wan shook his head, and regretted it. He was definitely concussed. He was lucky the Dathomiri brothers hadn’t cracked his skull outright. It had certainly been close.
He focused on inputting the code and then setting the device to seek out the nearest Republic relay station, offer a silent prayer to the Force… please.
To his amazement, the console beeped a response almost immediately.
“This is Republic relay station 427-2. We are reading General Kenobi’s transponder code from an unregistered cargo ship relay. Please confirm with your personal ident code, General Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan glanced over to Ventress, who still had her back to him, and then entered the digits of his code.
“Acknowledged, General Kenobi.” the voice came back, “How can we assist you.”
“I was on assignment on Raydonia and am currently stranded in the cockpit unit of a Corellian heavy freighter. Requesting immediate pickup at the transmitted coordinates.”
“Confirmed, sir. One moment please.” There was static on the line for an agonizing 15 seconds.
“Alright sir, the Resolute under command of General Skywalker is the closest ship to your location. I am sending it a redirect request right now.” There was a pause. “Sir, the details of your mission are classified...may I ask-- are you alone?”
“I have a...temporary ally on board.”
He looked back at Ventress who turned a predatory smile in his direction.
“She won’t be joining us on the Resolute. Please relay a request for an untraceable long-range transponder beacon as well as enough credits for her to hire local transport.”
Ventress gave a slight nod of acquiescence.
“Copy that, sir.” There was a muffled sound in the background. “Sir, we just made contact with the Resolute. They have changed course and are enroute to your coordinates. They should arrive in just over 2 standard hours.”
“Copy that, Relay Station. Many thanks. Kenobi out.”
He sat back smoothly with a satisfied smile on his face, using all of his considerable willpower and command of the Force to appear relaxed instead of agonized. Being in an enclosed space with Ventress felt like being in a nexu cage. One sniff of weakness and she’d be at his throat in seconds, he was sure of it. He could not count on the promise of credits and a communicator being enough to quell her doubtless instinctive drive to kill him.
“Your little friends are coming to pick you up?” She asked in a mocking tone.
“Indeed.” He replied, not baited, “And afterward, you can summon anybody you wish to come and pick you up. I assume you still have some friends, or at least, employers left alive who would be willing to assist you?”
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged a long finger at him, “My ride, my business, Jedi.” She said that last word like it was an insult.
“Fair enough.”
“And what were you doing on that flea-infested rancor-pit of a planet? Playing punching-bag for my kinsmen?”
“I could ask you much the same question, assassin, if I thought it would get me anywhere, but it seems neither of us will get any answers today.”
“Ah, Kenobi, you know me too well.”
“Truly, Ventress, I wish I did not.”
She barked a short laugh, “I assure you, the feeling is mutual.” She paused, surveying him critically, “You should rest, Kenobi, you look tired after such a beating. I can take the helm.”
Obi-Wan gave her a wry smile, though every fiber of his being was begging him to slip into a healing trance, “I couldn’t possibly burden you with such a responsibility, not with that nasty lightsaber burn on your arm.” He quipped.
Looking around, he identified a first-aid kit slot, popped it open and casually tossed her the small satchel of bacta-packs within. He hoped he’d managed to keep the internal scream off his face when his broken collarbone poked sharply into the flesh under his tunic at the rapid movement. “You should see to that.” He advised her, gesturing to the burn.
“Hm,” she grunted, and then turned in the chair to open the first-aid kit, keeping the Jedi visible in her periphery.
Obi-Wan gave a victorious smile and turned his own chair to look out the forward viewscreen. He crossed his legs, resting the broken one in such a way that he could use the artificial gravity to keep it straight, rather than just the Force, and leaned back into the seat. He focused on appearing comfortable, but alert.
Two hours.
He could manage two hours.
The Resolute dropped out of hyperspace and General Skywalker ordered the small cockpit-pod to be taken into the docking bay via tractor beam.
The comms team confirmed that it was indeed Obi-Wan and his unknown ‘ally’ on board, and the young General turned to his padawan with orders.
“Take Rex’s squad and meet Obi-Wan at the cockpit-pod, I want you to make sure this ‘ally’ of his doesn’t try anything.”
Ahsoka frowned, “What’s wrong, master?”
“Reach out with the Force. I think you’ll see.”
Ahsoka did so, and recoiled when her mind touched a familiar and very dark presence. “No!” she exclaimed.
“Apparently, ‘yes.’” Anakin corrected her, his own displeasure evident. “I don’t know how they fell in together, but General Kenobi’s coded message included keywords indicating that he was not under duress. Apparently he trusts her.” Anakin shrugged. “But I don’t. Go and make sure everything goes smoothly and, most importantly, get her off my ship as quickly as possible.”
“Master, why don’t you…”
“I’m staying at the helm in case there are ships waiting in ambush and we have to change plans in a hurry. I wouldn’t put it past Ventress to try something.”
“Understood!” Ahsoka saluted, “On my way.” She signaled to Rex who, in turn, signaled to his troopers and the group headed off toward the hanger bay.
Ahsoka supposed that her master’s explanation made sense, but it also seemed like a task he normally would have left to the helmsman. She suspected he was using military propriety to avoid his former master. He had been downright cold to Obi-Wan since the older Jedi had somehow returned from the dead, or rather-- his stint undercover as Rako Hardeen. Ahsoka couldn’t blame him. Orders or no orders, that was a cruel thing for a master to do to a padawan. It was cruel to her. She had held Obi-Wan’s lifeless body as medical droids rushed in to try and save him and then hauled him away. That was a betrayal not easily forgiven, and her master had not taken it well. But in his role as ‘General Skywalker’, he could find plenty of reasonable excuses to avoid his former master, and he did so with calculated expertise.
Ahsoka understood. But she did not appreciate being caught in the middle.
They arrived at the rescued cockpit-pod as members of the maintenance crew were working on opening the hatch. It appeared to have been partially fused by a lightsaber, so in the end she had to assist with both Force and saber to get the thing open again.
Once the smoke settled a bit, Master Kenobi stepped crisply out onto the docking bay floor. He looked rough, with livid bruises and ragged robes, but as unflappable as ever.
“Commander Tano, Captain Rex-- It is very good to see you.” He smiled, genuine relief visible in the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
If he noted Anakin’s absence he didn’t mention it.
“I believe you have a few things for my new friend.” He gestured behind him, where the unmistakable form of Asajj Ventress was stepping lithely through the hatch.
The clone trooper’s hands went instinctively to their guns, and Ahsoka realized that the Force had already guided her own lightsabers into her palms without her conscious direction.
“Easy,” Kenobi said in a calming tone. “Ventress is here under my protection.”
“And she is leaving here under her own protection,” the assassin growled, one hand hovering over the hilt of her own saber.
“Indeed,” Kenobi confirmed. “Rex, the items I asked for?”
Rex gestured to a trooper who proffered a transponder device and a credit storage chip.
Kenobi looked at the transponder. “How about one that isn’t bugged with a tracker?” He asked with an amused expression.
“Uh…” The trooper looked hesitantly between the General and Commander Rex before signaling one of his fellows who brought over another device.
Kenobi inspected it, before handing it over to Ventress, along with the credits.
The assassin scanned the contents of the credit chip with a wrist sensor and grunted her approval, before stepping back into the now ruined hatch.
“Til we meet again, Kenobi.”
“May that day never arrive, Ventress.”
“You miss me already,” she rasped, as she shut the secondary hatch and locked it down.
Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan, who rolled his eye. “Sith.” He said, as if the single word explained everything, which it most certainly did not.
“Master Kenobi, why was she with you on that ship? What’s going on?” Ahsoka asked.
Obi-Wan gave her a kindly look. “Unfortunately my mission remains classified. Suffice to say, we ended up on the same side of a conflict quite by accident, and I would not expect such an accident to repeat itself. That being said, I gave her my word that she won’t be tracked or pursued.”
He nodded to Rex, “See to it that any other trackers are disabled.”
The clone commander nodded, though a trace of skepticism remained on his un-helmeted face.
Obi-Wan turned back to Ahsoka. “Where is your master?” he asked, with what she couldn’t help but suspect was forced pleasantness, “I need to report in with him.”
“He should be on the bridge,” she answered.
Obi-Wan nodded and strode away.
Ahsoka gazed after him.
Something was off.
His stride was purposeful and his force shields were a perfect wall deflecting any hint of a stray emotion. She realized with a start that what she felt was the Force. As he had stood in the hangar bay and as he was now walking away, Obi-Wan was drawing strongly upon the Force. For what, his shields would not reveal, but Ahsoka shuddered nonetheless as a sense of unease crept over her.
General Kenobi strode onto the bridge and troopers and pilots all around turned and saluted him smartly.
He saluted back, though with his left hand, before addressing the other General in the room, “General Skywalker, may I have a word with you in private?”
Anakin looked up from where he had been perusing star-charts, surprised that Obi-Wan had come looking for him. Previously he’d respected his former padawan’s desire for distance.
Seeing Anakin’s hesitance, Obi-Wan continued, “My mission on Raydonia was classified, but certain details are relevant to the Resolute’s current directive. I need to discuss those details with you.”
“Very well,” Anakin said, adding more formality than usual to his tone. “Lead the way, General Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan nodded and strode toward a nearby chamber, Anakin followed, a grim look on his face.
“Anakin, we need to talk.” Obi-Wan opened, once they were safely away from the prying eyes of the crew.
“About the details of your mission.” Anakin said flatly, not willing to be drawn into an actual discussion.
“No, Anakin, I mean-- not just that.” He sighed, “It’s true, my mission was classified-- but I’m going to tell you anyway.”
Anakin raised an eyebrow. Obi-Wan engaging in significant rule-breaking...it was out of character, to say the least.
“It was Maul, Anakin. He’s alive, he’s after revenge, and he almost bested me on that planet down there. If it weren’t for Ventress showing up in pursuit of her own vendetta I would almost certainly have been killed.”
“Then the Republic leadership owes her a great debt.” Anakin said coolly, still not willing to engage.
“Anakin, I’m telling you this because…” he frowned, evidently struggling with something, “...because facing Maul made me face something I had worked very hard to bury in the past. He killed my master. That man...killed my master right in front of my eyes while I could do nothing. It was the very worst moment of my life, Anakin.”
Anakin looked down, struggling to keep composure as his former master’s words stirred violent emotions within him.
“Anakin, it made me realize that...I was wrong. I followed the council’s orders when I faked my death. I decided that they had their reasons and that I would do as I was told, as ever. But one lesson my master tried and failed to teach me...was that sometimes following orders and doing the right thing are two different paths. I chose the wrong path, Anakin. I put you through the very worst thing I had ever experienced, just to follow the councils bidding and play some political games. It was cruel and it was wrong and...I’m so sorry Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice broke a little, but Anakin refused to meet his gaze, “I hope you can forgive me.”
There was silence.
Anakin stared at his feet, quietly seething.
“Anakin?” Obi-Wan put a questioning hand to his former padawan’s shoulder.
Anakin threw the hand off with an angry wave of his arm, his own hand clipping Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
“No, Master! You can’t just come in here begging for forgiveness! You can’t just…” He trailed off, looking at his master in earnest for the first time.
Obi-Wan had gone ghostly pale after Anakin had barely brushed his shoulder.
He took a couple stumbling steps back before one of his legs appeared to crumple beneath him and he lurched toward the floor.
“Master!” Anakin instinctively moved to catch the older man around the waist, an act which elicited a gasp of pain that rippled through the force-bond between them like a tsunami. For a moment Anakin’s mind was pummeled by the fiery agony of Obi-Wan’s private world of torment before the older Jedi somehow clamped his shields back down and reduced the torrent to a trickle.
“Master, you…” Anakin gasped out, breathless from the horrifying experience, and he carefully tried to shift his grip away from apparently badly broken ribs as he helped Obi-Wan over to the nearest seat.
Obi-Wan gasped and gulped air a few times before looking back into Anakin’s concerned face. “I did mention that Maul nearly killed me?” The ghost of a wry smile crossed his face.
Then Obi-Wan passed out.
Anakin and Ahsoka stood in the Resolute’s thankfully well-stocked med-bay shaking their heads as medical droids dutifully tended Master Kenobi.
Captain Rex entered the room at a lope and skidded to a halt beside them. “General Kenobi…” he panted, “How did he...what happened.”
Anakin just gritted his teeth and turned away, so Ahsoka answered, piecing the truth together as she was speaking it. “He was using the Force.” She explained. “Whatever happened on Raydonia, he was badly injured…”
Rex looked from the Padawan to the unconscious Jedi General.
Injured indeed.
Bacta packs were being applied across a torso mottled with dark bruises. Droid limbs with surgical implements were slicing open the flesh on Kenobi’s shoulder and tibia to insert bone knitters that would help the broken bones grow back into place correctly. Similar smaller-scale operations were under way on several other parts of the general’s body, presumably correcting internal damage. ‘Badly injured’ seemed to be an understatement.
“But he was rescued by Ventress?” She seemed to be asking Anakin, who did not volunteer a confirmation, “Or at least fell in with her somehow...he knew it would be dangerous to show weakness in front of her, so he was literally using the Force to hold himself together this whole time.”
She paused, frowning. “How long ago was it that we received the distress call from the relay station?”
Rex checked his chrono, “About three hours, sir.”
Ahsoka shook her head. “For at least three hours, then.”
“Exactly correct, Padawan Tano,” came a soft voice, “Very well reasoned.”
“Sir!” Rex exclaimed.
“Master Obi-Wan!” said Ahsoka, who bounded over to the injured master’s side.
She found that Anakin, who had made no apparent sound or movement, had gotten there before her. Her volatile master still appeared to be a maelstrom of mixed and tortured emotions, but he was keeping them in check through self-imposed silence.
Obi-Wan unsteadily rested an uninjured hand across his former Padawan’s. Anakin flinched slightly at the touch, but did not remove his hand.
“Should you be, ah, conscious, sir? I mean, the droids are still operating…”
“Not to worry, Rex,” Obi-Wan’s voice was still barely more than a whisper, “It’s in my medical profile. They’re using plenty of local anesthetic. I can barely feel it.”
Anakin snorted, frustration rippling out from him in the Force, and Ahsoka thought she heard him mutter “liar ” under his breath, but she wasn’t sure.
Rex nodded his assent, but went over to the medical droids’ control station to have a look at the readouts himself. After a few long moments perusing with a furrowed brow, the clone captain returned to the Jedi.
“Everything seems to be in order, General. With your permission, sir, I’ll return to my post.” He executed a salute.
“Dismissed, Captain,” Anakin said automatically, and returned the salute.
Rex exited the room with considerably more dignity than he’d entered it.
“I don’t understand, Master Kenobi.” Ahsoka said quietly, perched beside the Jedi master. “Why did you...I mean...why didn’t you come here right away. You were in a great deal of pain…”
“I’m sorry, Ahsoka. It was arrogance, really. It wasn’t just Ventress from whom I wanted to hide my vulnerability. I had a few important things to do,” he glanced at Anakin, who looked away, “and I thought I could push on and do them despite the cost. I fear I’ve set a poor example for you, Padawan.” His quiet voice was pained with regret.
Ahsoka looked thoughtful and then smiled, “Master Yoda says that the wise learn from the mistakes of others. I think I have learned something today.”
Obi-Wan let out a small chuckle that he appeared to regret immediately. “Very wise indeed, Ahsoka.”’ He said approvingly.
The young commander gave Obi-Wan a smile and a short bow. Then, seeing the brewing storm cloud on her own master’s face she quietly ducked out of the med-bay.
There was near-silence in the med-bay for several minutes.
The droids patiently carried on with their work and Obi-Wan patiently endured it, briefly slipping into unconsciousness from time to time.
Anakin sat at his former master’s side, his hand still resting beneath Obi-Wan’s too-pale one, feeling everything his master felt through their link in the Force. The cacophony of pain was almost unbelievable. Anakin had been beaten before, injured before, even nearly unto death, but the sheer variety and magnitude of Obi-Wan’s injuries was almost beyond belief. So many ribs cracked and broken, shattered collarbone poking through the skin into his tabard, broken tibia and cracked radius...more internal injuries than Anakin could count if he wanted to.
“Tell me what happened, Master.” Anakin eventually asked in a grim voice.
Obi-Wan frowned slightly. Thinking was wading through thick waves of pain. “I’m not sure I can…” He murmured. “Maybe I can show you.”
Anakin felt his master’s hand shift to grip his own. Open your mind. An echo of his master’s voice from a long distant lesson instructed him…
...And then he was on a strange planet looking up at an old enemy through smoldering flames.
Anakin felt the memory of his master’s resolve, and was surprised to find a thin undertone of anger and hate fueling it. They were unfamiliar emotions coming from Obi-Wan, suppressed and channeled, but still recognizable. Quickly, though, they were overcome with dismay and pain, as a second Dathomiri appeared and joined Maul in swiftly overpowering the Jedi.
The next memory was of a violent and thorough beating. The surroundings were blurred, but Anakin got the vague impression of a cargo hold. He felt Obi-Wan trying to use the force to blunt the vicious blows...and felt him fail more often than not. He heard the Jedi mocking his captors between painfully forced breaths, trying to unbalance the unstable brothers. It only resulted in more pain and then oblivion.
The next moment was foggy surprise-- Obi-Wan was awoken by Ventress, evidently coming to his aid for reasons entirely of her own.
Pain-muddled bemusement engulfed Anakin's senses as the former inquisitor handed Obi-Wan her red lightsaber and they faced the brothers back to back. Obi-Wan wrangled in his connection to the Force, clearing the fog of pain and sharpening his senses as the unlikely allies met their foes.
And Anakin could feel his master’s control over his anger slipping. The taunts, the injuries, the rain of blows, and the memory of his own master’s cruel death, cracked and eroded his fortification of calm like Anakin had never witnessed, let alone experienced through their bond.
Ironically, Maul’s recognition of the descent was what allowed him to wrestle back control. It was also what brought about a flood of painful realization, to Anakin’s amazement. Indeed, in the midst of a heated battle from which his master did not expect to emerge alive, Obi-Wan had been struck with a horrible understanding of how much he had hurt his apprentice. In that instant, his desire to avenge Qui-Gon was replaced with the resolve to survive and make amends with his former padawan. With a new objective he worked with Ventress to engineer a narrow escape.
The shared vision ended abruptly and Anakin found his master gripping his hand with a strength he didn’t have. He looked so frail, swathed in bandages and bacta, but his presence in the force surged where his physical strength waned.
“I’m sorry, Anakin.” He said again, tears playing at the corner of the eye that was not swollen shut. “I’ve hurt you… in the worst way that I possibly could.”
Part of Anakin wanted to laugh at those words coming from a man beaten within an inch of his life.
But he didn’t.
His mind flashed unbidden to his own memories of losing Qui-Gon, and then his home, and then his mother…
…and then his master.
The rage rose in him so quickly that he had to jerk his hand out of Obi-Wan’s grip and clamp down his shields lest he engulf the injured man in hatred.
He took a calming breath.
Obi-Wan must have caught an eddy of the emotional maelstrom because he furrowed his brows, good eye searching Anakin’s face.
Anakin looked down and sighed.
“You’re right, master. You crossed a line and I…” he paused, struggling to cool the swirl of emotions, “... I’m having trouble seeing a way back from that.”
Obi-Wan radiated guilt–- whether unable or unwilling to shield it, Anakin wasn’t sure.
“But your understanding and regret are real.” He put a hand gently on his master’s uninjured shoulder. “And you can’t change the past.”
He frowned to himself, nodding slowly. “I guess I’ll have to try and find a way to forgive you.”
“Thank you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice was small, solemn.
Anakin gave a forced smile and nodded, getting to his feet.
He patted his master’s good shoulder and then walked out of the room, the door hissing shut behind him.
Then he paused, looked down and frowned darkly…
… but I’ll never forget.