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He knew it was a trap.
He knew he was walking into danger.
But he went anyway.
He went for strangers.
He traded himself for lives already lost.
And still, he went.
Obi-Wan woke to darkness.
A filthy rag was tied tightly over his eyes, rough fabric scratching against his skin. His wrists were chained high behind his head, forcing him upright against a cold metal wall. He tried to move his legs, only to hear the clink of chains. His ankles had been shackled too.
Every inch of him hurt.
The door suddenly slammed open.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the floor. Obi-Wan recognized them instantly.
Maul.
Savage followed close behind him, silent and looming. Obi-Wan stayed limp against the wall, though pain flared through his bruised body with every breath. The brothers had beaten him relentlessly after his capture, and his body was already beginning to darken with bruises.
Without warning, Maul grabbed the blindfold and ripped it away.
Light stabbed into Obi-Wan’s eyes so sharply he flinched. Before he could recover, Maul seized his jaw and violently twisted his head to the side. Something cracked painfully in his neck.
Obi-Wan grunted despite himself, but he swallowed the rest of the sound. He would not give Maul the satisfaction.
Slowly, Obi-Wan lifted his gaze and glared at him through one swollen eye.
Maul smiled cruelly.
The slap came hard enough to snap Obi-Wan’s head sideways. His eyes squeezed shut as tears burned against his will. He hated that weakness most of all.
Maul released the chains holding Obi-Wan upright.
Obi-Wan collapsed forward instantly, but the restraints around his ankles caught him halfway down. The chains tore into already-raw skin as he hit his knees with a sharp cry. Blood spilled down his legs and pooled beneath him.
Then Maul kicked him hard between the shoulders.
Obi-Wan crashed onto his stomach, pain exploding through broken bone and torn flesh. This time he couldn’t hold back the cry that escaped him.
Maul planted a metal foot against his back, pinning him to the floor. Leaning down, he grabbed a fistful of Obi-Wan’s soft auburn hair and yanked his head upward so violently Obi-Wan thought his neck might break.
Pressure burned along his spine. Veins strained painfully in his throat.
Then, suddenly, Maul released him.
Obi-Wan’s face slammed back against the floor.
A second later, the chains around his ankles unlocked as well, finally freeing his torn, bloodied legs.
Without another word, Maul and Savage left the room.
Obi-Wan lay there shaking, listening to the door close behind them.
Alone.
Carefully, Obi-Wan reached out through the Force.
Anakin.
Pain instantly tore through his mind.
Maul’s presence poisoned everything around him, sharp and suffocating. Obi-Wan recoiled with a gasp, clutching weakly at the floor.
Even the Force hurt now.
Still, he forced himself to move. He tried to stand, but agony shot through both legs the moment he put weight on them. His ankles collapsed beneath him immediately—broken in multiple places.
Obi-Wan fell hard, breathing unevenly.
A small cut on his temple dripped blood where his head had struck the floor earlier. Ignoring it, he dragged himself across the room until he reached the wall again and slumped against it.
Hopelessness settled heavily in his chest.
He had come here to save innocent lives.
He had been too late.
Every single person he’d been sent to protect was already dead.
Anakin woke with a sharp breath.
The vision clung to him even after he opened his eyes.
Obi-Wan—bruised, shackled to a wall, blood running from the corner of his mouth.
Anakin sat upright in bed, sweat clinging to his skin.
His master was supposed to be negotiating for the Council.
So why had Anakin seen him imprisoned?
The next morning, he went straight to Master Yoda.
Yoda listened in silence, leaning heavily on his cane.
“Given a mission, Obi-Wan has,” Yoda said at last. “To save lives, he was sent.”
Anakin’s stomach tightened.
“The danger, he knew,” Yoda continued quietly. “But still, he went. A dark shadow he faces.”
Anakin wanted to leave immediately, but Yoda refused to allow it.
Another day passed.
Then Maul contacted them.
The hologram flickered to life.
Obi-Wan was kneeling beside Maul, his wrists bound together in front of him. Savage stood behind him like a looming shadow. Even through the distorted blue light of the transmission, Anakin could see the blood staining Obi-Wan’s robes.
His master kept his head lowered.
Anakin understood immediately.
He didn’t want to be seen like this.
Maul’s hand tangled suddenly in Obi-Wan’s hair and jerked his head upward. Obi-Wan flinched, pain flashing across his bruised face before he forced it blank again.
Anakin’s chest tightened violently.
One side of Obi-Wan’s face was swollen dark with bruising. Blood streaked from the corner of his mouth. One eye was nearly swollen shut.
Anakin forced himself not to react.
“Are you Skywalker?” Maul asked, voice low and mocking. “I expected someone stronger. Someone capable of protecting his master.”
Anakin closed his eyes for half a second.
Breathe.
Control.
When he looked up again, his expression had gone cold enough to freeze stars.
Maul actually stepped back.
Only for a moment.
Then he sneered and drove a vicious kick into Obi-Wan’s back.
Obi-Wan collapsed forward onto the floor with a sharp cry he couldn’t suppress.
Anakin saw his legs then.
Blood covered both ankles, twisted unnaturally beneath him. One looked shattered completely.
Rage surged through Anakin so hard his vision blurred.
Maul lifted one foot and stomped directly onto the worst break.
Obi-Wan cried out.
The sound tore through Anakin like a blade.
Anakin stepped closer to the hologram, speaking so quietly only Maul would hear him.
“Let. Him. Go.”
Maul smiled.
Slowly, deliberately, he grabbed Obi-Wan by the chains around his wrists and hauled him upright. Obi-Wan barely managed to stand before his broken legs gave out beneath him again. Maul ignored it completely, dragging him toward a chain hanging from the ceiling.
Anakin realized what was about to happen a second too late.
“No—”
Maul locked Obi-Wan’s restraints onto the overhead chain and activated the mechanism.
The chain jerked upward violently.
Obi-Wan screamed.
His shoulders dislocated with a sickening crack as his body was forced upward by his bound wrists. His broken legs dangled uselessly beneath him. For a moment he thrashed helplessly, then his head dropped forward as unconsciousness finally claimed him.
Maul slapped him hard across the face.
“Stay awake, Jedi.”
Obi-Wan gasped sharply as consciousness was forced back onto him.
Savage stepped forward then, carrying something wrapped in dark cloth. He handed it silently to Maul.
Maul unwrapped it slowly.
A knife.
Anakin felt his control slipping.
Maul turned his back briefly to the hologram, almost casual, before suddenly lunging forward and dragging the blade across Obi-Wan’s chest.
Obi-Wan cried out weakly, body jerking against the chains.
Blood spread quickly across the front of his tunic.
Then Maul looked directly into the hologram.
Daring Anakin to come for him.
The transmission cut abruptly to black.
Silence filled the Council chamber.
Anakin stood frozen, staring at the empty space where Obi-Wan had been.
His breathing had gone uneven.
Beside him, Yoda’s expression had darkened into something grim and ancient.
Anakin turned toward him, desperation bleeding through the cracks in his control.
“I have to find him.”
For a long moment, Yoda said nothing.
Then:
“With haste,” Yoda said quietly, “find him, you must.”
Relief hit Anakin so hard it almost hurt.
He didn’t waste another second.
Anakin barely remembered leaving the chamber.
His thoughts were chaos. Fear. Rage. Guilt.
He should have known.
He should have felt this sooner.
The Force twisted sharply around him before he even reached his ship.
Another vision slammed into him.
Obi-Wan hung limply from the ceiling restraints, barely conscious. Blood soaked through the front of his torn tunic where Maul had cut him. His head sagged forward, hair hanging into his face.
Maul circled him slowly.
Then the knife flashed again.
A cut across Obi-Wan’s arm.
Another across his cheek.
Obi-Wan flinched weakly but made no sound this time.
Every time he lost consciousness, Maul stopped only long enough to force him awake again. Sometimes with a slap. Sometimes worse.
And when Obi-Wan’s body finally started failing entirely, healers would come stabilize him just enough for the torture to continue.
Anakin ripped himself out of the vision with a sharp inhale.
His hands were shaking.
Then he felt it.
Obi-Wan.
Faint. Weak. Reaching for him through the Force despite every attempt to stay shielded.
Even now, Obi-Wan was trying to protect him from this.
Anakin closed his eyes and reached back immediately.
Master.
The connection trembled violently.
“Where are you?” Anakin whispered desperately.
At first there was nothing but pain.
Then came a faint voice, distant and fractured.
Too quiet to understand.
Suddenly Obi-Wan screamed.
Anakin dropped to his knees, clutching his head as agony tore through the bond between them. It felt like fire ripping through his mind.
Then, through the pain:
“Mandalore,” Obi-Wan gasped weakly. “I’m on Manda—”
Another scream cut him off.
The connection vanished instantly.
Silence.
Anakin stayed kneeling there for several seconds, breathing hard.
Then he stood.
And set a course for Mandalore.
By the time Maul finally lowered him from the chains, Obi-Wan could no longer feel his hands.
He hit the floor hard, barely catching himself before collapsing completely. Every movement sent agony tearing through his shoulders, still partially dislocated from being suspended for so long.
Savage dragged him back to his cell.
Obi-Wan was thrown into the center of the room like broken scrap metal. Before he could even breathe properly, chains snapped around him again—one pulling each arm outward, others locking around his legs and waist, forcing him spread painfully against the cold floor.
Front. Back. Left. Right.
Completely restrained.
His shoulders burned like fire. Blood had dried stiff against his shattered ankles and torn skin. Every breath scraped painfully through his chest.
Still, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached for the Force.
Peace.
He just needed peace.
But Maul refused to allow even that.
The second Obi-Wan drifted too close to sleep, an unbearable screeching noise would erupt through hidden speakers in the room, sharp enough to feel like knives driven into his skull. Whenever exhaustion became too heavy for pain alone to fight, electricity tore through the floor restraints instead.
Obi-Wan lost count of how many times he convulsed against the chains.
He had not eaten since his capture. Had not been given water.
The room itself became another weapon.
Sometimes the temperature dropped until Obi-Wan shook violently, teeth chattering hard enough to hurt. Other times the heat became suffocating, sweat soaking through his torn robes and leaving him weaker, thirstier, more exhausted.
Time blurred.
Pain blurred.
Still, Obi-Wan endured.
Anakin pushed the ship toward Mandalore at dangerous speed.
Yoda came with him.
So did Masters Plo Koon and Kit Fisto.
No one said it aloud, but they all understood the same thing:
If they were too late, Obi-Wan would die.
The moment they landed, Plo and Kit stayed behind to secure their escape route while Anakin and Yoda moved deeper into the stronghold.
Silent.
Fast.
Efficient.
Anakin could feel Obi-Wan somewhere below them through the Force—faint and flickering like a dying star.
Then suddenly pain exploded across the bond.
Anakin dropped hard to one knee, clutching his head.
“Skywalker,” Yoda warned quietly.
“He’s hurting,” Anakin gasped.
Not physically.
Not just physically.
He could feel Obi-Wan breaking.
Anakin forced himself back to his feet and kept moving.
The deeper they went, the darker the air became. Rage and suffering stained the Force around the fortress like blood soaking into cloth.
Then they reached the door.
Savage waited outside it.
The Zabrak attacked immediately with a roar, his massive double-bladed saber crashing toward them. Yoda met him first, small and impossibly fast, green light flashing through the darkness.
Anakin barely hesitated.
He cut straight through the sealed door.
The second the metal split open, Obi-Wan felt him.
Even half-conscious, broken and restrained, he felt Anakin arrive.
Relief flickered faintly through their bond.
Then Maul’s fury crashed over everything.
Anakin entered the room to chaos.
Maul stood over Obi-Wan, lightsaber blazing crimson. Obi-Wan himself was barely recognizable beneath the blood. He hung restrained against the wall again, head lowered weakly against his chest.
Anakin saw the knife wounds immediately.
One near the neck.
Another buried deep in his side.
Two more through his left leg.
Something inside him nearly snapped.
Maul attacked before Anakin could reach Obi-Wan.
Their sabers collided violently.
Red and blue lit the room in flashes as they fought.
Maul fought with fury.
Anakin fought with purpose.
For once, his anger did not consume him. It sharpened him.
Every strike drove Maul backward.
Every step brought Anakin closer to Obi-Wan.
Finally, Maul overextended.
Anakin disarmed him with a brutal strike and sent him crashing against the far wall.
Then he ran to Obi-Wan.
“Master—”
Obi-Wan barely reacted as Anakin cut him free from the restraints. The moment the chains released him, his body collapsed completely.
Anakin caught him before he hit the floor.
Obi-Wan felt terrifyingly light.
Anakin lowered him carefully onto the ground, hands shaking as he pressed them against Obi-Wan’s chest.
The Force poured out of him instinctively.
Life.
Warmth.
Strength.
Anakin pushed everything he had into Obi-Wan, ignoring how quickly exhaustion began clawing at him in return.
“Stay with me,” Anakin whispered desperately. “Please stay with me.”
Footsteps rushed into the room behind him.
Yoda.
Plo Koon.
Kit Fisto.
All three stopped the moment they saw what Anakin was doing.
Then, without hesitation, they joined him.
The Force connected between them instantly.
Power flowed through the room in waves.
Thoughts blurred together.
Memories.
Fear.
Grief.
Hope.
For one impossible moment, they understood each other completely. Every secret the Order buried. Every emotion they denied. Every truth they refused to face.
They saw what the Jedi had become.
And what they still could be.
Together, they stabilized Obi-Wan enough to move him.
Barely.
No one knew if it would last.
The trip back to Coruscant felt endless.
Anakin never left Obi-Wan’s side once.
Even unconscious, Obi-Wan looked exhausted beyond anything Anakin had ever seen. His skin had gone pale beneath the bruises, and every breath seemed like a struggle.
But he was alive.
That was enough.
For now.
The second they reached the Temple, healers rushed Obi-Wan to the medical wing. Anakin followed so closely they nearly had to force him out of the way.
Meanwhile, Maul and Savage were imprisoned beneath the Temple under the heaviest security the Jedi possessed. Both were kept unconscious and restrained.
It didn’t matter.
Maul still found ways into Obi-Wan’s mind.
Obi-Wan thrashed violently against the medical restraints, breathing ragged and uneven.
“No—”
The word came out broken.
Anakin grabbed his shoulders while healers struggled to keep him from reopening his injuries.
“He’s fighting something mentally,” one healer said urgently.
Maul.
Anakin knew immediately.
Obi-Wan’s face twisted in pain, trapped somewhere far away. Tears leaked from the corners of his closed eyes as his breathing turned panicked.
Anakin moved without thinking.
He placed one hand gently over Obi-Wan’s eyes, thumb and pinky resting lightly against his temples.
“Obi-Wan,” he said softly. “Listen to me.”
The Force flowed carefully between them.
Not strength this time.
Comfort.
Safety.
“You’re here,” Anakin whispered. “He can’t hurt you right now.”
Slowly, painfully, Obi-Wan’s struggling eased.
His breathing steadied little by little.
Then his eyes fluttered open.
For one exhausted moment, he looked directly at Anakin.
Awareness flickered there.
Relief too.
Obi-Wan tried weakly to lift a hand toward him.
Anakin caught it immediately, holding it carefully between both of his own.
Only then did Obi-Wan finally let his eyes close again.
This time, he slept peacefully.
Days passed.
Maul and Savage remained imprisoned.
Obi-Wan remained unconscious.
And Anakin never left his side.
Not once.
The healers eventually stopped trying to convince him to rest elsewhere.
Then, sometime deep in the middle of the night, Anakin woke abruptly.
Pain slammed through the Force bond.
Obi-Wan.
Anakin sat upright instantly—
—and froze.
Maul stood beside Obi-Wan’s bed.
Savage grabbed Anakin from behind before he could shout, one massive hand clamping over his mouth while the other pinned both his arms.
Anakin struggled violently.
Maul ignored him completely.
Slowly, almost mockingly, he placed a hand over Obi-Wan’s face in the same position Anakin had used earlier.
Obi-Wan arched violently off the bed.
A silent scream tore through him.
Every muscle strained so hard the restraints shook.
Anakin reached desperately through the Force toward him—
—and Obi-Wan cried out harder.
Maul smiled.
Anakin went still in horror.
The bond itself was being used against him.
Helpless, furious, terrified, Anakin reached out through the Force for the only person strong enough to help.
Master Yoda.
Yoda woke abruptly.
A faint disturbance brushed against his mind through the Force—small, desperate, but filled with pain.
Anakin.
Obi-Wan.
Something was wrong.
The Grand Master rose immediately and hurried through the Temple halls, several healers rushing after him at his sharp command. The medical wing was silent when they arrived, but the Force around Obi-Wan’s room felt poisoned.
Dark.
Violent.
Yoda stopped outside the closed door, eyes narrowing.
Inside, he felt fear.
Anakin’s anger.
Obi-Wan’s agony.
Yoda shoved the door open.
Savage struck first.
The Zabrak slammed a fist into Anakin’s face hard enough to throw him sideways into the wall. Anakin hit the ground, dazed, blood running from his temple.
Savage turned instantly toward Yoda.
In his hands was Anakin’s lightsaber.
With a roar, Savage attacked.
Green and blue light exploded across the room as Yoda intercepted the strike effortlessly. Savage swung hard and heavy, relying on brute force, but Yoda moved like water around him.
One strike high.
Blocked.
One low.
Barely parried.
The next attack never landed.
Yoda spun beneath Savage’s guard and struck him down cleanly.
Savage collapsed heavily to the floor.
But before unconsciousness claimed him, he threw Anakin’s lightsaber across the room—
Straight to Maul.
Maul caught it easily.
The room went still.
Obi-Wan lay restrained on the medical bed, barely conscious beneath layers of bandages and healing patches. Maul stood beside him with unsettling calmness, blue lightsaber humming in his hand.
Calculating.
Yoda could feel his thoughts shifting rapidly.
Escape.
Fight.
Or vengeance.
Slowly, Maul raised the saber.
Not toward Yoda.
Toward Obi-Wan.
The blade hovered inches from his throat.
“You let me leave,” Maul growled softly, “or he dies.”
Anakin pushed himself upright immediately despite the blood running down his face.
“Maul—”
“I want transport,” Maul continued coldly. “My brother. And Kenobi comes with me.”
Yoda lowered his saber slightly.
“Choose,” Yoda said quietly. “Your brother... or Obi-Wan.”
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Maul’s face.
Then Anakin moved.
With a furious shout, he lunged across the room and tackled Maul to the ground.
The lightsaber skidded wildly between them as Anakin grabbed Maul’s wrist with both hands, fighting desperately to force the blade away from Obi-Wan.
Maul snarled.
And the Force exploded outward.
An invisible grip crushed around Anakin’s throat and hurled him backward. At the same time, Yoda staggered as Maul caught him in the same chokehold.
Anakin clawed desperately at his neck, unable to breathe.
Maul rose slowly to his feet.
Calm.
Controlled.
Terrifying.
Through the Force, he lifted Savage’s unconscious body from the floor.
Then Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan’s limp form floated beside him, restrained and helpless.
Still choking both Yoda and Anakin, Maul walked from the room without hurry.
No one dared stop him.
By the time the Temple guards arrived, Maul was already at the landing platform.
He released Yoda and Anakin only after reaching his ship.
Both Jedi collapsed hard, gasping painfully for air.
Maul stood in the open hatchway, Obi-Wan hovering unconscious beside him while Savage leaned weakly against the wall behind him.
“If you follow me again,” Maul said quietly, “Obi-Wan dies.”
Then the hatch sealed shut.
The ship vanished into the night sky.
And Obi-Wan was gone again.
Obi-Wan woke slowly.
Pain greeted him immediately.
Every breath hurt. Every inch of his body felt heavy and broken.
For one brief moment, he thought he was still safe in the Temple healers’ wing.
Then he reached for Anakin through the Force.
Nothing.
Too far away.
Cold panic settled in his chest.
The cell door opened.
Savage entered without a word and grabbed Obi-Wan roughly by the front of his torn robes, hauling him upright. Obi-Wan nearly collapsed immediately; his legs still barely supported him.
“Move,” Savage snarled.
Obi-Wan stumbled forward weakly.
Maul waited outside the cell.
Without speaking, he turned and led the way through the ship.
Obi-Wan followed because he had no strength left not to.
The communication room felt suffocatingly familiar.
Obi-Wan was forced down onto his knees in front of the holo-transmitter.
His head hung low.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
Maul’s voice poisoned every corner of his mind now, twisting endlessly through his thoughts. Images crashed through him over and over again.
Qui-Gon dying in his arms.
Satine falling.
Anakin burning with disappointment.
Failure after failure after failure.
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
He had failed everyone he had ever loved.
What was left of him now?
Nothing.
Just a tired, broken man too weak to stop any of this.
The hologram activated.
Anakin appeared instantly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Anakin’s breath caught painfully at the sight of him.
Obi-Wan looked worse than before. Bruises darkened nearly every visible patch of skin. His robes hung ripped and bloodstained from his thin frame. Exhaustion hollowed his face so deeply he barely looked awake.
But it wasn’t the physical injuries that terrified Anakin most.
It was the emptiness.
Obi-Wan looked defeated.
Anakin ignored Maul completely and stepped closer to the projection instead, lowering himself slowly to one knee in front of Obi-Wan’s image.
“Master,” he said softly.
Obi-Wan didn’t react.
Anakin reached toward the hologram anyway, as if he could somehow touch him through the projection.
“This isn’t your fault,” he whispered. “None of it is.”
Still nothing.
No movement.
No response.
Obi-Wan didn’t even lift his head.
And suddenly Anakin understood something horrifying:
This was damage he couldn’t fight with a lightsaber.
Maul smiled faintly beside him.
The transmission cut to black.
The Jedi Council declared Obi-Wan missing in action.
Privately, many feared he was already dead.
Anakin refused to believe it.
He spent every waking hour meditating.
Normally he hated meditation. Sitting still had always made him restless. But now it became the only thing keeping him together.
He stopped sleeping properly.
Stopped eating enough.
Spent entire nights sitting alone in darkness, reaching desperately through the Force for Obi-Wan.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Finally—
He felt him.
Weak.
Flickering.
Alive.
Relief hit Anakin so hard tears burned instantly down his face.
He poured healing energy through the bond without hesitation, giving everything he safely could.
It barely felt like enough.
Obi-Wan was hurting so badly that even touching the bond made Anakin’s chest ache.
Anakin opened his eyes slowly.
The meditation room was dimly lit.
Yoda sat quietly beside him.
Without speaking, the old Master rested a small hand against Anakin’s arm.
That simple kindness nearly shattered what little composure Anakin had left.
“I don’t know how to help him,” Anakin admitted hoarsely.
Yoda remained silent for a long moment.
Then he felt it too.
A pull through Anakin’s connection to Obi-Wan.
Carefully, Yoda reached through the Force, silently asking permission.
Anakin allowed it.
The vision hit instantly.
Obi-Wan chained upright against a wall.
Bleeding.
Broken legs trembling beneath him as he desperately pulled against the chains to relieve some of the pressure. Metal restraints cut deeply into his wrists, blood trailing down both arms and soaking into ruined robes.
Someone struck him again.
And again.
And again.
Yoda pulled back sharply.
For a rare moment, horror crossed the Grand Master’s face openly.
Slowly, he helped Anakin to his feet.
The Council chambers erupted into argument almost immediately.
Anakin stood silently near the center of the room, exhausted beyond words. A bandage wrapped around the side of his head where Savage had struck him.
Around him, the Council debated fiercely.
Plo Koon, Kit Fisto, and Yoda had shared what they experienced through the Force bond with Obi-Wan. It had shaken them deeply.
Others remained resistant.
“Attachment clouds judgment,” Mace Windu said firmly.
“And yet attachment is exactly why Skywalker found him,” Plo countered quietly.
Ki-Adi-Mundi frowned. “Emotional involvement is dangerous.”
“Leaving him there is dangerous,” Kit snapped back.
The room fell tense.
Anakin barely listened.
All he could see was Obi-Wan chained to that wall.
Hurting.
Alone.
Finally, Yoda struck his cane once against the floor.
“Enough.”
Silence fell instantly.
Yoda’s expression hardened.
“Save Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said firmly, “we will.”
Obi-Wan drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness.
He was cold.
No—burning.
His body shook violently beneath the chains holding him upright against the wall, teeth chattering hard enough to ache. Sweat soaked through his ruined robes despite the freezing air. Every breath rattled painfully in his chest.
He was sick.
Bleeding.
Dying, perhaps.
For a few blissful moments, he couldn’t remember where he was.
Then the cell door opened.
And he remembered everything.
Maul.
Maul was running out of time.
Their ship had sustained more damage than expected, and repairs were moving far too slowly. Every passing hour tightened the invisible noose around them.
The Jedi would come.
Of course they would.
Skywalker alone would tear apart half the galaxy looking for Kenobi.
Maul paced outside the cockpit, restless fury simmering beneath his skin.
They needed distance.
They needed escape.
And Obi-Wan Kenobi was becoming a liability.
Maul considered his options carefully.
Trade Kenobi for safe passage.
Kill Kenobi and flee immediately.
Or keep him alive and risk everything for another chance at revenge later.
That last thought lingered.
Because revenge was all Maul had left.
Without it, there was nothing.
Slowly, he reached for the knife at his side and turned toward Obi-Wan’s cell.
The door hissed open.
Obi-Wan forced his eyes upward weakly as Maul entered. Even that small movement hurt.
Maul stopped directly in front of him, expression unreadable.
“Tell me,” Maul said quietly, “why I shouldn’t kill you now.”
Obi-Wan blinked slowly.
The question barely made sense through the haze of fever and exhaustion clouding his mind.
Maul struck him hard across the face.
“I asked you a question.”
Obi-Wan’s head snapped sideways from the impact. Pain burst across his jaw.
“I want answers,” Maul snarled, grabbing Obi-Wan by the chin. “Not silence.”
Obi-Wan looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
Despite everything, there was still calm buried somewhere deep inside him.
“I still have a purpose,” he said hoarsely.
Maul scoffed.
“Oh? And what purpose could possibly remain for you now?”
Obi-Wan lowered his gaze again.
Maul grabbed his jaw harder, forcing his head back up.
“Look at me.”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes instead.
The next slap was harder.
Still, Obi-Wan gave him nothing.
No anger.
No fear.
No pleading.
Something dangerous flickered in Maul’s expression then.
Fury.
The knife flashed forward suddenly, burying itself deep into Obi-Wan’s side.
Obi-Wan gasped sharply, body jerking against the restraints.
But still no scream came.
No satisfaction.
Then the ship lurched violently beneath them.
Alarms began blaring somewhere overhead.
Maul froze.
The Jedi had found them.
Anakin nearly tore the control panel apart activating the incoming transmission.
Maul’s hologram appeared instantly.
Behind him, Obi-Wan hung limply against the wall, blood running steadily around the knife still buried in his side.
Anakin stopped breathing.
The rest of the Jedi gathered quickly behind him—Yoda, Mace Windu, Kit Fisto, and Plo Koon.
Maul spoke first.
“You will let us leave,” he said coldly. “And in exchange, Kenobi survives.”
Mace narrowed his eyes immediately. “You expect us to trust—”
“If you attempt a rescue,” Maul interrupted, “he dies before you reach him.”
Silence fell.
Everyone in the room knew he meant it.
Anakin’s hands curled into fists so tightly his knuckles whitened.
Finally, after a tense discussion, the Jedi agreed.
Not because they trusted Maul.
Because Obi-Wan wouldn’t survive another fight.
The moment the docking hatch opened, Anakin ran.
He found Obi-Wan exactly where the hologram had shown him.
Still chained upright.
Still bleeding.
Still barely conscious.
“Master—”
Anakin reached him in seconds, cutting through the restraints with shaking hands. Obi-Wan collapsed immediately, and Anakin caught him before he could hit the floor.
The knife was still lodged deep in his side.
Blood soaked Anakin’s hands almost instantly.
Behind them, the other Jedi entered the room, took one look at Obi-Wan—
—and quietly stepped back out again.
Giving them privacy.
Anakin lowered Obi-Wan carefully to the ground, one hand pressed desperately around the wound.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Obi-Wan felt cold in his arms.
Too cold.
Yet through the Force, Anakin could still feel him faintly.
Barely there.
Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open slowly.
“Anakin…” he whispered.
“I’m here,” Anakin said immediately.
Obi-Wan’s breathing hitched painfully.
“I don’t…” His voice cracked weakly. “I don’t want to die here.”
Fear tore through Anakin’s chest.
“You’re not going to die.”
Obi-Wan barely seemed to hear him.
“Take me…” he whispered faintly. “Home.”
Then his eyes closed again.
They couldn’t make it back to Coruscant in time.
Obi-Wan’s condition worsened by the hour.
The closest inhabited world was Stewjon.
They landed near a large estate hidden beneath rolling hills and forests. Anakin and Kit carried Obi-Wan inside on a stretcher while the others secured the perimeter.
An older man opened the door.
Silver threaded through his auburn hair, and sharp blue-green eyes widened instantly at the sight of Obi-Wan.
“Please,” Anakin said breathlessly. “He needs help.”
The man stepped aside immediately.
Medical droids were summoned within seconds.
The estate blurred into controlled chaos as the droids worked quickly, removing the knife and sealing wounds while cutting away Obi-Wan’s ruined tunic.
Anakin waited just outside the room.
Helpless.
Exhausted.
Terrified.
He sat on the floor with his knees pulled close to his chest, staring at nothing.
Somewhere nearby, Yoda and the others quietly explained the situation.
A woman approached him carefully.
She rested a gentle hand against his knee before sitting beside him.
Anakin looked up slowly.
Her hair carried the same auburn tones as Obi-Wan’s.
So did her eyes.
“You love him very much,” she said softly.
Anakin swallowed hard.
“He’s my family.”
Pain crossed her face briefly.
“I understand that.”
Quietly, she told him about her sons.
One had remained with them.
The other had been taken by the Jedi when he was only three years old.
Understanding hit Anakin instantly.
His breath caught.
This was Obi-Wan’s mother.
Before he could respond, the medical room door slid open.
“One moment,” the droid announced. “The patient is stable.”
Anakin was on his feet immediately.
Obi-Wan looked impossibly pale lying in the bed, but for the first time in weeks, he looked peaceful.
Anakin sat beside him and carefully took his hand.
The Jedi wanted to leave quickly. Staying in one place too long was dangerous.
But Obi-Wan’s father refused.
“He’s not moving yet,” the man said firmly.
For once, even Mace Windu didn’t argue.
Later that evening, Yoda entered quietly while Anakin sat watching Obi-Wan sleep.
“Return to Coruscant, we must,” Yoda said gently.
Anakin stiffened immediately.
Yoda rested a small hand on his shoulder.
“Stay with Obi-Wan, you will.”
Anakin stared at him.
“There is still war,” Yoda continued softly. “Needed elsewhere, we are.”
Relief nearly overwhelmed him.
Anakin bowed his head silently.
Days passed.
Anakin rarely left Obi-Wan’s side.
Sometimes Obi-Wan slept peacefully.
Sometimes nightmares shook him so violently Anakin had to calm him through the Force until the trembling stopped.
Then one night, Anakin jolted awake.
Obi-Wan’s eyes were open.
For a moment, panic flashed across Obi-Wan’s face as he looked around the unfamiliar room.
Then Anakin grabbed his hand gently.
“You’re safe,” he whispered.
Obi-Wan slowly calmed.
He looked terrible—thin, pale, exhausted beyond words. Weeks without food had hollowed his face sharply.
When he tried to speak, only a rough rasp came out.
“Don’t,” Anakin said softly.
He lifted a glass of water carefully to Obi-Wan’s lips instead.
Obi-Wan drank slowly.
After that, he barely spoke at all.
Weeks passed.
Obi-Wan regained some strength physically, but something inside him remained distant.
He would lie awake for hours staring blankly at the wall.
Sometimes he acknowledged Anakin.
Sometimes he didn’t seem to notice anyone at all.
His parents kept their distance at first, afraid overwhelming him would make things worse. Still, Anakin spent hours talking with them.
He told them everything.
About Obi-Wan’s missions.
His recklessness.
His bravery.
The impossible situations he somehow survived.
The stories made Obi-Wan’s mother laugh softly through tears.
And when Anakin described Maul—
The room always went quiet.
Time passed slowly.
Days became weeks.
And still Obi-Wan remained trapped somewhere far away inside himself.
Then, while Anakin was updating Yoda through hologram transmission—
—it happened for the first time.
Anakin heard the crash from the next room and was on his feet instantly.
He rushed into Obi-Wan’s room, heart hammering painfully in his chest.
Obi-Wan was awake.
But something was wrong.
His hands trembled violently as he clawed at the bandages around his neck and side, breathing uneven and sharp. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away, unfocused and terrified.
“Master—”
Anakin crossed the room in seconds and caught Obi-Wan’s shaking hands in his own before he could tear the wounds open again.
“It’s alright,” Anakin whispered quickly. “You’re safe.”
For a moment Obi-Wan didn’t react.
Then slowly—very slowly—his gaze shifted toward Anakin.
Recognition flickered there.
The panic eased just slightly.
Tears slid silently down Obi-Wan’s face.
Lost.
Found.
Anakin tightened his grip gently around Obi-Wan’s hands and stayed there until the trembling finally began to subside.
Obi-Wan still barely spoke.
Days had passed since he woke, yet silence clung to him like another injury. Anakin wanted to give him time—wanted to let him heal at his own pace—but there was something Obi-Wan deserved to know.
So eventually, quietly, he told him.
About the people here.
About the man and woman who had opened their home without hesitation.
About the truth.
At first, Obi-Wan only looked confused.
Then realization struck him all at once.
His expression changed so suddenly it hurt to see.
The door opened softly behind them.
Obi-Wan’s parents stepped into the room.
Memories flashed visibly across Obi-Wan’s face—fragmented and distant, but real enough to shake him. His breathing quickened immediately as he tried to force himself upright.
“No, easy,” Anakin said quickly, pressing a gentle hand against his shoulder.
Obi-Wan resisted weakly for only a moment before exhaustion won out and he sank back against the pillows.
Silent.
Watching.
Listening.
His mother sat carefully near the edge of the bed while Carter remained standing beside her, both looking at Obi-Wan like they were afraid he might disappear if they blinked.
Anakin quietly explained what little he knew. Carter filled in the rest.
Stories.
Family history.
Fragments of a life Obi-Wan had lost before he was old enough to remember it.
Obi-Wan listened without speaking.
Then suddenly his eyes widened sharply.
Pain twisted across his face.
He gasped once—
—and collapsed unconscious.
“Obi-Wan!”
Anakin was beside him immediately, checking his pulse with shaking fingers while calling for the medical droids.
Darkness swallowed Obi-Wan whole.
Then came the voice.
Soft.
Cruel.
Familiar.
Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open.
Maul was beside him.
Smiling.
Obi-Wan lashed out instinctively, but his arm wouldn’t move. Panic surged instantly through him as he realized none of his limbs would respond properly.
Maul leaned closer and grabbed his chin painfully, fingers twisting into his beard.
Obi-Wan cried out.
Fear crashed through him, cold and suffocating.
No.
No no no—
He squeezed his eyes shut hard enough to hurt, but when he tried to move again, his body still refused him.
His chest tightened violently.
He couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t fight.
Couldn’t escape.
Still, he struggled anyway, thrashing his head desperately from side to side in Maul’s grip.
Then the voice changed.
Distorted.
Distant.
“Obiii-Waaaan…”
Another voice broke through it.
“Obi-Wan!”
Closer now.
Desperate.
“Obi-Wan, wake up!”
Hands caught his shoulders.
Warm.
Real.
“Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open.
No cell.
No chains.
No Maul.
Anakin was holding him upright, fear written openly across his face.
Obi-Wan stared at him in confusion, breathing raggedly.
“Anakin?” he whispered weakly.
The room slowly came back into focus around him.
Pain followed immediately after.
Everything hurt.
His chest.
His side.
His legs.
Even breathing felt exhausting.
And underneath all of it—
Maul.
Not physically.
But lingering.
A shadow buried deep inside his mind, watching from the corners of his thoughts.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly.
He wanted it to stop.
Anakin never left him after that.
Not truly.
He slept in the chair beside Obi-Wan’s bed, waking at every shift in Obi-Wan’s breathing. He barely ate. Barely rested.
Every nightmare Obi-Wan suffered through, Anakin suffered through beside him.
One night, Obi-Wan woke shaking again, sweat dampening his hair and tunic.
Another nightmare.
But this time, when his eyes opened, Anakin was already there.
The younger Jedi stirred almost instantly, sensing the fear rolling off Obi-Wan through the Force before he was even fully awake.
Anakin sat upright immediately.
“Master?”
Obi-Wan swallowed painfully.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered hoarsely. “Rest, Anakin.”
Anakin frowned immediately. “I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“So are you.”
Despite everything, the faintest hint of amusement flickered through Obi-Wan’s tired expression.
Before either of them could argue further, movement appeared in the doorway.
Carter stood there quietly.
“You should sleep,” he told Anakin gently. “There’s another room prepared for you.”
Anakin hesitated immediately.
“I can stay with him,” Carter added.
Obi-Wan gave the smallest nod of agreement.
Reluctantly, Anakin finally stood.
“Call me if anything changes,” he said quietly.
Carter smiled faintly. “I will.”
Anakin disappeared into the next room and collapsed almost instantly onto the bed there.
As sleep dragged him under, his final thoughts drifted painfully toward his own mother.
Toward everything he had lost.
The room became quiet again.
Obi-Wan tried to sit up once Anakin was gone, but his body refused. Weakness dragged heavily at every movement.
He focused on breathing instead.
Slow.
Controlled.
Jedi discipline.
But it wasn’t working.
Fear still coiled tightly beneath his ribs.
Carter stepped closer carefully and rested a hand against Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
Obi-Wan flinched violently.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he grabbed Carter’s wrist hard enough to crush bone.
Carter gasped sharply.
Obi-Wan froze instantly.
Horror flooded his face.
He released him immediately, staring at the reddening hand in shock.
“I—”
The apology died in his throat.
Because for one terrible second, when Carter touched him—
He had seen Satine dying again.
Obi-Wan looked sick.
Not angry.
Terrified.
Ashamed.
Carter understood immediately.
Very gently, he sat beside the bed again despite the pain still visible in his hand.
“You didn’t mean to hurt me,” he said softly.
Obi-Wan lowered his gaze.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Carter leaned forward slightly.
“Son,” he whispered carefully, “you’re safe here.”
The word hit Obi-Wan harder than he expected.
Son.
“I want to know you,” Carter continued quietly. “If you’ll let me.”
Obi-Wan studied him cautiously.
This stranger.
This man who somehow wasn’t a stranger at all.
Only then did Obi-Wan notice the prosthetic attached to Carter’s wrist beneath his sleeve.
His eyes lingered there.
“What happened to your hand?” Obi-Wan asked weakly.
Carter let out a slow breath.
Then he smiled faintly.
“That,” he said, “is a very long story.”
And slowly, quietly, he began to tell it.
A story of pirates.
Raiders.
Knights who fought like Jedi.
A story once told to a little auburn-haired boy long before the Jedi came for him.