Work Text:
Adi Gallia’s death hit Obi-Wan hard. In the midst of battle, he hadn’t had the time to really consider it. He had not been able to think very clearly at all, if he is being honest. Her death unbalanced him, tempted him to give in to the rage that boiled just beneath the surface whenever Darth Maul is near. Rage that he knew would give him power beyond belief, power enough to see that Maul and Opress go down, and do not get up again.
There was a tense second when he almost let it, gave up the fight and avenged her, Qui-Gon, and all the countless lives that these monsters have senselessly taken- will take.
But he did not let it consume him. Obi-Wan knew that whatever his intentions, if he left the light, he would be no better than the Sith he sought to destroy. The ends would never justify the means. Qui-Gon would be disappointed in him. So, he forged on, taking the high path rather than the easy path.
That is not to say; when he relieved Opress of an arm, when Maul lost a leg to a pirate, and when their ship blew to pieces mid take-off, Obi-Wan felt no modicum of satisfaction.
Satisfaction which, seconds later turned to frustration as he realised their Force-signatures were still very much present and alive.
He wanted nothing more than to pursue them, but the immediate danger was gone. Maul may have escaped, but the Jedi Master had a feeling that this dance of theirs was far from over. For right now, he has an angry pirate to deal with and a friend’s body to return home.
A Jedi lives in the moment and does not dwell on the past. You must learn to let go and deal with the now, not the then. Qui-Gon’s words ring in his ear as clearly as the day he first said them to his attentive apprentice.
General Kenobi shut his eyes and went back to work. There is still much to do, so he best get started.
. . .
“I think we’ve had closure on this matter, Master Kenobi.” The elderly leader of the senate announced coolly, ignorantly.
“I disagree, Chancellor.” Obi-Wan keeps his tone even, betraying none of the fear he felt. “Everything we’ve learned from this is that the Sith are persistent. They will not die.” The last sentence comes out a bit more forceful than he intended for it to… He really needs some time to meditate. He was unsuccessful in getting any on the flight back from Hondo’s base. Not with Adi’s body lying so near, and his own tumultuous thoughts and feelings.
What I really need, is council with my old master… But that isn't going to happen. He thinks, pushing down the rising sadness. Emotion is not something he needs to give away right now. Not with everyone’s eyes on him, not after this disaster…
“I understand your reservations, Master Kenobi, but I am afraid we can no longer allow this personal matter of yours to be a Republic concern.” The Chancellor responds, tone firm. “It does not appear this ‘Darth Maul’ is a direct threat to the republic. We need to redirect your efforts to the cause at hand: stopping Count Dooku and thus ending the Clone Wars.”
He’s right. Maul is a distraction I don't need. The logical side of him reasons, his brows pulling together, knowing he should just let it be. Kenobi keeps arguing anyways. “Maul was trying to build an army of pirates.”
“So let him. Let him play with the rabble. They're just petty crooks. It is of no relevance to the senate compared to the separatist threat.” Palpatine counters, and Obi-Wan knows he has lost this argument. As I should. I must let it go. I can’t. He turns his eyes to Anakin, looking for support in his former padawan. He gets nothing, neither denial nor encouragement over their faint, long-severed bond. The Jedi Master knows he should not expect anything, either. Anakin is nearly as close to the Chancellor as he is to his old Master. Obi-Wan also knows he is alone in insisting on going after Maul. He does not get a chance to continue as the Chancellor dismisses him, starting to walk out. “Good day, Gentlemen.”
The door hisses open to let Chancellor Palpatine out, and all four Jedi in the room stand and draw in closer to each other by some unspoken agreement. “Something is stirring in the underworld.” Obi-Wan starts, hoping that if not the Chancellor, perhaps he can get the other Masters to realise the threat Maul poses and gain the Council’s blessing in pursuing him. “The crime families have had too much free reign since the Jedi have been distracted by the Clone War. I fear it is a fertile place for Maul to flourish… if he has indeed survived.” Fear, indeed. Obi-Wan has faced massive armies of merciless droids without so much as batting an eye… But Darth Maul strikes true fear into his heart like nothing else has succeeded in doing. The first time they met, he lost his Master. This time, he lost a friend. What will he lose next time if Maul is allowed to go on unchecked? He does not dare dwell on it, keeping his mental shields carefully in place.
“Hmm, right you may be, Obi-Wan, but heed the words of the Chancellor we must.” Yoda answers, tone grave. “A personal matter this is for you. Clouded, your judgement may be. In time, if he lives, reveal himself again Maul will. And then, swiftly we shall act.”
And that is it. It is as clear a dismissal as Yoda ever gives, and the four Jedi turn and leave, Obi-Wan unconsciously tightening his grip on his bicep armour as he follows, just a second too late. He speeds his pace, intending to catch up to Anakin. The Jedi Master does not see his former padawan as often as he’d like to, nowadays. But when they do happen to end up in the same place, Skywalker usually wants to swap stories with him.
Sure enough, Anakin turns in the opposite direction from Masters Windu and Yoda, slows down, and glances at Obi-Wan over his shoulder. He gives a small nod of acknowledgement, waiting first for Obi-Wan to fall into step with him, and then until the other two Jedi’s presences are little more than far-off brushes against their minds.
“If it's any consolation, I think you’re right, Master.” Anakin breaks the silence, saying the words he thinks his former master needs to hear.
And while Kenobi appreciates the show of support… He knows that he needs no encouragement. It will only make it more difficult to put his failure, his fear behind him. Fear is something he must let go of, for it is the path to the Dark Side.
Due to his troubled thoughts, he fails to respond in a timely manner, and Anakin puts a hand on his shoulder. “Master?”
Obi-Wan shakes himself, offering Anakin a small smile to reassure the other that he is fine. (He is not.) “Thank you, Anakin, but I believe the Chancellor and Council have made it abundantly clear that I’m not the right person to make that decision.” Too late, he realises that he failed to keep the bitterness from his tone.
Anakin gives him a searching look, holding back his surprise. “… You think their decision is wrong? Obi-Wan, how scandalous.”
The master Jedi breathes in deeply through his nose and releases a long sigh. “No. They are correct; this matter is a very personal one for me.”
His companion is quiet for a moment, no doubt thinking out his response. Sometimes, their conversations feel like a game of Dejarik. “But you still want to go after Maul.” It is not a question.
Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to the ground. “Unfortunately, what I want is not always what is best.”
The hand on his shoulder squeezes gently, drawing his attention back to the taller Jedi. Anakin has a thoughtful look on his face, his eyes hinting at playfulness. “You know Master, when I have these kinds of conflicts, I always ask myself… What would Obi-Wan say?”
The other General snorts, giving Anakin an amused look. “I highly doubt you ever ask yourself that.”
Skywalker removes his hand, touching his chest in mock-hurt. “Why, Master, are you calling me a liar?”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it,” Kenobi begins, falling easily into their comfortable banter, “but if you have been asking yourself such things, you must have done so only to choose the opposite course of action.” He smiles, reflexively reaching to stroke his clipped beard.
Anakin hums, returning the smile. “I’ve never been particularly good at listening to you. But I do appreciate your advice, Master.” The warm expression falls a little, revealing a more earnest one. Anakin always has worn his emotions on his sleeve, and now Obi-Wan can clearly see that he is worried. He doubts that his former apprentice and now best friend has ever seen him this passionate over anything. Save for, perhaps, Duchess Satine. “Be honest, if this were about me, how would you advise me to proceed?”
Kenobi’s gaze drops again, seriously considering it. What would he tell Anakin? Not to let it go, surely. Obi-Wan would never tell Anakin to do anything that he himself was incapable of. He would not tell Anakin to seek revenge, either. After a long silence, he sighs, looking back up. “… I’m not sure, Anakin. What do you think?”
Again, this seems to catch Anakin by surprise, but the younger quickly recovers, seeming amused. “Hmm, I think you’d say something along the lines of…” And here, he straightens up, holding himself in a manner reminiscent of the man beside him, mockingly stroking a non-existent beard. “Padawan, let the Force guide your heart; meditation will give you the answer you seek.”
Obi-Wan is a mixture of amused and impressed. “That does sound like something I might say. So, it seems you do listen to me, on occasion.”
Anakin shrugs, smiling. “From time to time.”
The easy conversation is serving its purpose, taking the edge off and putting Obi-Wan in a good mood. “It’s good to know that years of training you haven't been entirely for nothing. In any case, I do plan to meditate. But first, perhaps you’d like to join me for dinner at Dex’s?”
“You know I always do, Master. You’re buying, though.” Anakin replies readily, putting an arm around his best friend.
“As always, my free-loading friend.” Obi-Wan sighs fondly, grateful is for his friend’s – brother’s – presence despite himself. Anakin is here, far away from Maul. Obi-Wan won’t lose him; Not that Darth Maul would stand a chance against his talented former apprentice, anyways. The Jedi Master likes to think that he trained the younger too well for that.
As they walk in comfortable silence, Kenobi mentally chastises himself for such thoughts. He mustn’t be afraid, and he certainly mustn’t be afraid of loss. Fear, attachment… Both go against the strict Jedi Code. Perhaps the council is right in pulling him away from this. He needs time to clear his head, to take a step back and look at everything, free of emotion.
But he can do that later. For now, he will spend the evening with his closest friend and confidant, and they will enjoy themselves. Anakin will make him smile and laugh, and he will forget that there was ever anything to fear.
. . .
For weeks before the heart-wrenching message from Duchess Satine, Obi-Wan had not been sleeping well. He would close his eyes and feelings of despair and loss would overcome him. Meditation did not help. Something was wrong. Something horrible was happening, was about to happen, but the Force would not reveal what it is.
Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about the ominous summoning from Masters Yoda and Windu. Seeing Satine call out for him through the holo-message felt like a confirmation of all his fears and dark premonitions the previous weeks.
The Force was warning him, and he had to stop whatever was happening. He knew he would get no assistance, but he had to come to her aid anyways. He would fight for her, against such very slim odds. It is said that people do crazy things for love, and he now understands that more than ever.
. . .
Anakin could feel the unease rolling off his former Master. It is a rare thing to see Obi-Wan’s cool exterior ruffled, and even rarer for such times to last more than a few moments.
Something about the feeling of Obi-Wan being so at-odds with his own emotions was fundamentally wrong, and the whole thing sat wrong with Anakin. He desperately wanted to accompany his best friend – his father-figure – into battle against whatever sinister forces have overtaken Mandalore, but he couldn't. There was a war to be fought, and he had to do his duty and lead the charge on yet another Separatist-occupied planet. But Anakin did what he could, lending Obi-Wan the Twilight, since no Republic ships could be spared for his friend’s mission.
. . .
Anakin is unprepared for the sheer force of Obi-Wan’s pain and grief. It catches him off-guard mid-battle, and he nearly loses focus long enough to get hit by a blaster bolt. The Force screams a warning, and he lifts his ‘saber just in time to save himself from losing another limb. Obi-Wan’s pain continues through their old, broken Master-Padawan bond, and Anakin knows that he must remove himself before this distraction becomes a deadly one. Rex notices Anakin’s distress and steps forward to take charge, signalling for Anakin to get to safety while he leads the Clones against the ‘clankas’. He gives his captain a grateful nod, his hand pressing at his temple as he takes cover behind a grounded Republic gunship.
He should not be able to feel Obi-Wan this acutely through their severed bond, let alone from this far away.
What the kriff is going on…?
. . .
Maul sits on the throne of Mandalore, regal and terrible. The black-and-red marked Zabrak eyes his captive with dark satisfaction in his poisonous yellow eyes. Obi-Wan is coming to, finally regaining consciousness from the injuries he received during his rescue attempt. His normally pristine hair is disheveled, his blue eyes unfocused. He may have a concussion… no matter. Maul will just have to speak until he regains his focus.
The Sith will not have Kenobi missing what he has in store for him.
“Your fatal flaw is shared by you… and your duchess.” He gestures to the woman held captive to his left. She seems to catch Obi-Wan’s attention. “You should have chosen the Dark Side, Master Jedi. Your emotions betray you… your fear, and yes… your anger.” He can feel it now, in the heated glare Kenobi sends him while he speaks ill of him and his beloved Duchess. “Let your anger deepen your hatred!”
And of course, the woman, as irritating as the man who loves her, must interrupt. “Don’t listen to him, Obi!”
Thankfully, his apprentice handles her for him. Savage looms near her, intimidating in his significant stature and low voice. “Quiet…”
Obi-Wan draws the attention back to himself, his eyes resolutely on Maul. The Force stills around him as he brings peace to himself with his infernal Jedi code. “You can kill me, but you will never destroy me.” There is no death, only the Force. “It takes strength to resist the Dark Side. Only the weak embrace it.”
“It is more powerful than you know,” Maul shoots back, his temper hot as he stands, approaching his enemy on mechanical legs which click against the smooth floors. The room echoes with it.
There is a peace settling over Obi-Wan as he lowers his head. His tone does not match his body language. “And those who oppose it are more powerful than you’ll ever be.”
With a growl in his throat, Maul realizes that he iss accepting his imminent death. How… amusing. This will really come as a shock to him.
Obi-Wan continues, undeterred. His tone is calmer now, almost sympathetic. It might be convincing if Maul could not see the underlying disdain in his eyes. “I know where you’re from. I’ve been to your village. I know that the decision to join the Dark Side wasn’t yours. The Night Sisters made it for-“
“Silence!” Maul cuts him off, his rage flaring once more. How dare he attempt to… to psycho-analyse him. Him. “You think you know me? It was I who languished for years thinking of nothing but you, nothing but this moment… And now… the perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us… I never planned on killing you. But I will make you share my pain, Kenobi…”
The Dathomiran glances back at Satine. It is not Obi-Wan he intends to kill today… no, not in the literal sense, at least.
Obi-Wan is struck by a sudden realization. His stomach drops as he immediately knows, he feels the scream of the Force as Maul directs it, as he ignites the black-bladed lightsaber.
He feels the guards push him down, it nearly distracts him, but… Satine has always held his attention when nothing else could. Force, he loves her… he cannot let her die.
He gets a hand in front of him, stopping his fall as a knee hits his back, his eyes glued to the duchess as the Dark Side wraps around her, pulling her towards Maul. He must do something. He cannot simply watch, like he had to as Qui Gon was slain. There is no ray shield in his way this time, he must act.
“No,” the word is quiet as a breath. Time seems to slow as he fears that even without the physical impediment, he cannot save her. He must. He came here alone- for her. He came against all advisement, even Anakin’s- she needs me. He feels hopeless, and then… he feels angry.
Anger he has bottled up since his youth, which Qui Gon never quite managed to help him quell. He has learned to release such emotions to the Force, raising Anakin as his padawan has… made him learn many was to deal with frustration.
But this anger, his rage for this Sith… for Maul, he never quite learned to manage. Maul took his Master from him; Maul is the reason Obi-Wan had to stand in front of the council while they discussed whether to assign him a new master or knight him. Maul is the reason he became the youngest knight to take on a padawan, when he still felt like one himself. Maul has taken so much from him already…
No more. He will not take Satine.
Obi-Wan can no longer stand to do nothing while this monster takes and takes, destroys every point of light in his life.
“No,” he says with more conviction.
He reaches out with one hand, uncaring of the guns pointed at his head, at his back. His fingers splayed, he commands the Force with a single word, rivalling Maul’s strength with his own.
“STOP!”
And Maul does, temporarily frozen in place by a mixture of shock at Kenobi’s interference and the strength of the Force holding him in place. Satine drops to the ground, let go by Maul as Obi-Wan interrupts the Sith’s connection with the Force.
Obi-Wan feels drained already, still dizzy from the crash landing, and now taxed by the unlikely but successful use of Force suggestion on another Force user, on top of that.
Maul shakes it off quickly, shuddering as his will takes over again, and he snarls. “Your petty Jedi mind tricks cannot save her, Kenobi.” The Zabrak reaches toward Satine again with the Force, this time keeping a more wary eye on Obi-Wan.
A guard attempts to strike him on the back of his head with a gun, but Obi-Wan senses the danger in the Force and thinks quickly, rolling to the side and springing to his feet, eyes bright with adrenalin. He can. He can save her. He will.
“Obi!” Satine calls, her voice tinged with fear as the Force drags her forward once more.
He reaches towards her with his own Force, only barely managing to keep her in place. His strength is failing.
Obi-Wan is struck by sudden desperation. He is injured, taxed from the crash. He is surrounded by too many enemies, two Sith… on a planet full of those who would see him dead. It seems hopeless, even if he could save her from Maul’s blade, he could not return her to safety.
The anger he has long kept contained bubbles over, calling to him.
I will give you the strength you need.
Use me, save her.
You will both die if you do not.
Never has the Dark Side called to him so strongly… Never before has he considered…
No time to think, Obi.
Save her. Before it is too late.
He grits his teeth as he reaches for it. He will use it just once, because he is outmatched and out of time, and because she needs him. After all, Mace can wield it when necessary without falling to seduction… He can too.
He must try.
If he does not do all that he can, he will live with the blame for the remainder of his life.
Cutting off his thoughts, Obi-Wan finally releases his bottled anger, letting it fill him with the strength he needs. His wounds seem to fade, and his senses sharpen as the Dark Side makes him strong.
Powerful.
Obi-Wan snarls at Maul, who looks briefly alarmed, and then smiles.
That angers Obi-Wan further, his vision tinting red as he grips Satine more securely with his own Force, keeping her away from Maul. An arm swept behind him knocks the guards and their useless guns away. He stalks towards Maul, a dark edge to his tone. “I will not allow you to take any more lives. Yield, Maul, or I will kill you.”
Maul lets go of Satine, focused on Kenobi with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Obi pulls her towards him, setting her safely behind him as he glowers at the Sith.
“Good, Kenobi… Good. Go ahead. Kill me.” He spreads his arms in invitation, the black blade still ignited in his hand. “Take my life, as your precious duchess watches. Take what you want.”
Well, who is he to ignore an invitation like that?
His judgment is clouded, his hatred causing him to rationalize that Satine will not care, just this once. Maul has murdered so many, surely, she will see he is too dangerous to leave alive.
He stalks forward, calling to this new strength to rip the darksaber from Maul’s hand. How fitting, Mandalore’s blade used to end its invader. Maul does not even fight him for it, just smiling with that infuriating smugness as Obi-Wan approaches. He has gotten what he wants.
The blade sparks and spits as he grips the hilt, and then settles, accepting him.
Just as he is about to reach the Sith, he feels a smaller, softer hand grip his own. He halts, darksaber raised as he turns his head… and then he lowers it again as he sees Satine’s frightened eyes.
She stares at him- a long, piercing gaze. Then she reaches her other hand to cup his cheek, fingers trembling.
“Obi…” She looks sad, and he immediately feels angry for whatever is causing her sorrow, feels the overwhelming need to take away her sadness. “My Dear Obi-Wan, where have you gone? Come back to me, please… This is not you.”
Obi-Wan blinks. No… he is the cause? But he is saving her. “… I’m right here,” He responds, soft and unsure. “I’ve not gone anywhere, my dear…” He is not so sure, however. The darkness’ grip on him loosens minutely.
Her eyes search his, relaxing a bit when he seems genuinely confused and uses a gentler tone. He is not lost, not yet. “There you are. What are you doing, Obi…? You are not acting yourself.”
“I had to save you. Maul must die. If given the chance, he will destroy you, your people, everything…” He starts, but she shakes her head sadly.
“You are better than this, Obi-Wan. Do not insult me by tossing aside your values to save my life. Murder is not victory, my love…”
His breath catches, shocked to hear her say that. To call him…
She has said it before, but never so earnestly, with so much feeling in her tone. This is not Duchess Satine, this is just… Satine Kryze, begging the one man she loves to stay with her. They will speak when this is over, and… perhaps he will continue to stay with her.
He would leave the order if she asked him to. He will leave this volatile darkness.
The anger drains from him, replaced by joy, by his own love for her. The darkness has not fully receded… but he is rejecting it now, letting Satine become his light. She is right… He can beat Maul now, without spilling blood. He will not give the Sith the satisfaction.
There is only relief on Satine’s face when she sees the shift in his eyes, sees the yellow rings fade away and leave behind only his beautiful blue. She can breathe now… knowing her love has not lost himself. What a terrible fate it would be, to have her life spared, only to have lost her dear Obi in every way that mattered.
She hears a sound to her left and turns in time to see a deathwatch guard dive for his blaster, then aim it at Obi-Wan. Her love fails to notice, too distracted by herself and the Sith, his senses too clouded by darkness. “Obi!” she gasps, pushing him back as the guard pulls the trigger.
The happiness at getting him out of harm’s way in time fills her with relief for one bright second. And then the next, her world lights up in pain as the bolt instead finds her side.
She falls on top of him, crying out in pain as the wound registers.
“No!” She hears him cry. Satine searches dazedly for his face as he moves her, pulling her into his arms. The lightsaber falls from his grip as he brushes her messy strands of hair from her face. “Satine…” It is like it takes all the breath he has left to say her name.
The guard tries to shoot him again, but this time Obi-Wan shoots a narrowed gaze his way, and the blaster crumples in his hands, along with every other blaster in the room. He wisely backs away.
Maul is laughing, but Satine only cares about the man holding her, so much pain in his eyes, mirroring her own. She reaches again to cup his cheek, but her hand is weak, trembling. She is not much longer for this world… and he is in pain, so much pain. She must do what she can, to save his life, at least. “Remember, my dear Obi-Wan…” It is painful to draw breath, but she does it. “I loved you, always.” She can see the shock in his eyes, the infinite sadness that must come with losing a love that he accepted far too late. “I always will,” She adds, a gentle reminder that just because she is gone, does not mean she will leave him. She hopes it is enough.
He cannot bear to watch the light leave her eyes as she draws in her last, shuddering breath. He leans down, holding her close and pressing his forehead to hers as he whispers words only for her ears.
“I will never forget you, my… my love.”
She knows it is hard for him to say those particular words… the model Jedi that he is. So, it means so much more to her that he does. That he returns her love and admits his attachment, allowing her in her last moments to know that her affections for him were always returned.
There is a smile gracing her lips as her hand falls, accepting her end with dignity.
Obi-Wan feels it as her life fades, as the Force accepts her soul. He feels it like a hole within himself, like the loss of a limb.
An anguished cry rips from his throat, one which sends a ripple through the Force, a disturbance. It leaves the air in the throne room quivering, echoing his pain and sorrow.
“Do we kill him now, brother?” Savage asks tactfully, and Obi-Wan couldn’t feel more numb at the thought of his own death. He is already dead.
“No…” Maul still has laugher in his voice, dark and satisfied. “Imprison him below, let him drown in his misery.”
The guards approach again to take him away, and Obi-Wan… he will not leave her. He will not let these animals dump her body in some pit, she deserves better. She deserves respect. She died to save him… he will honor that by saving her people from these monsters.
He calls the dark blade to his hand again, igniting and lifting it in warning as he crouches protectively over her. “Do not come any closer,” he warns, deadly calm in his voice.
The disarmed guards wisely heed the warning, taking a step back from him.
Satine would not want him to fight…
He feels the Dark Side call to him again.
Give me your pain, it whispers, I will give you the calm you seek.
The call is different, this time. He has nothing to lose here… it has no hold on him. It just offers aide, and cautiously, he accepts it, giving it his pain, releasing his anger and sorrow to it. The darkness gathers around him, feeding off his negative emotions…
“Stop him!” Maul shouts, but it is too late.
With another cry of anguish and rage, Obi-Wan releases his amplified pain, his sorrow, his frustration… he lets it leave him in an explosion of pure Force.
A wave washes over the room… one so powerful that it becomes visible as a shimmer in the air. It washes over each of the occupants, letting each one of them feel Obi-Wan’s suffering. Letting it overwhelm them until one by one they cry out, and then fall unconscious.
Savage stumbles under the feeling, then charges towards Obi-Wan with his dual sided lightsaber as he fights the wave of Force. He hits the ground before he can reach the Jedi.
Maul is the last one left on his feet. He snarls, rebelling against the Jedi’s power. “Kenobi!” He draws his red blade, preparing to charge the Jedi as well.
Obi-Wan merely looks at him. His eyes are a calm, bottomless pool of sorrow. The Jedi lifts his hand, focusing on the Dathomiran. “Sleep, Maul.”
There is a tense battle of wills… but then Maul, too, is overpowered by Obi-Wan’s mastery of Force suggestion. Obi-Wan stands, sheathing the black lightsaber before walking over to the two Sith and taking their sabers from them. He finds Force-inhibiting cuffs on the Mandalorian guards and uses them to bind both Dathomirans. He will bring them to Coruscant to face imprisonment for their crimes… it is what Satine would want him to do.
He feels… empty. The Dark Side, at least, has left him. It has taken his volatile emotions and abandoned him, left him with only his aching emptiness.
He will have to report his own actions to the council… there is a chance they will demote him… or even exile him… but he finds it hard to care. He has lost one of the few attachments he allowed himself to indulge in. What use is being a Jedi Master when he still cannot protect anyone?
Perhaps they are all better off without me, anyways… Anakin, Cody, Ahsoka, Rex… Master Yoda, Quinlan Vos… they would all be safer with anyone else but me by their side. I cannot save any of them.
Your self-doubt is unbecoming of a Jedi, Qui Gon’s voice rings in his mind, like a distant memory.
He picks Satine up off the ground, carrying her to the throne and setting her on it. Her people will give her a proper funeral. He… He must leave this place. He cannot bear to be here any longer.
There is a speeder outside. Obi-Wan drags Maul and Savage to it, carelessly tosses them into the back, and hurries with them to the space port. He can take Satine’s personal cruiser, he knows he is keyed into the bio scanners.
. . .
They reach the cruiser without interference. Soon, he is far, far from Mandalore.
He is in the middle of a troubled meditation when Maul awakes. The sound of stirring on the floor and a small groan pulls Obi-Wan from his attempts to center himself.
The Jedi sighs, abandoning his unsuccessful meditation and resigning himself to handling his… prisoner, until they reach Coruscant. A jump through hyperspace has never felt so long and arduous.
Maul is disoriented, left dazed by his disconnection to the Force. He is in a strange place, unfamiliar to him. His most recent memories come sluggishly to him, but as he opens his eyes and sees his captor, he remembers.
“Kenobi…” He growls and looks for his lightsaber, only to find his wrists are bound.
“Looking for this?” Obi-Wan asks him, holding up Maul’s saber as if it offends him. “I’m afraid you won’t be using it again, Maul.”
Infuriating as always. Maul glowers for a moment, then quickly checks Savage over to see if he is unharmed. He is fine; still sleeping, as far as Maul can deduce without the Force.
Once he has finished, he looks back to Obi-Wan, finding that the Jedi is still watching him coldly. “… Why are we alive?”
The General’s lips give an unpleasant twist. “It is my duty to bring you to Coruscant to suffer imprisonment for your crimes, Maul.”
“Crimes committed on a planet outside of the Republic’s jurisdiction?” The Sith asks, looking vaguely amused. “You think they will imprison me for your precious Duchess’ death?”
That gets the reaction he wants, another flash of bright, hot anger crossing Obi-Wan’s face. Just when he thinks the Jedi will lash out at him, however, it is quelled. Kenobi shuts his eyes and releases a long breath before speaking calmly. “You have committed many crimes, Maul. In many places. You will serve your time for all of them.”
“Perhaps. But… not for her,” The Sith says with a smug smile that shows his broken, yellowed teeth.
Obi-Wan’s jaw is beginning to ache from how tightly his teeth are clenched. He attempts to release his growing anger into the Force, but it will not take it. Or, possibly more accurately, he does not really want to let it go.
That is a troubling thought.
The Jedi Master resolves to ignore Maul’s taunting, instead choosing to just passively watch for the rest of their journey. It is best if he no longer engages in the conversation when he cannot be objective.
. . .
Sidious is… disappointed.
Maul and his Apprentice are not here. He came as soon as he caught word… interrupting a rather productive meeting he had with Tarkin.
It is rather irritating to cut that short, to come all this way for nothing.
A beheading and a threat are all it takes to get the story out of one of Mandalore’s guards.
Kenobi…
He should have known what had caused this latest irritation. The Jedi Master has been a thorn in his side from the moment he graduated to the rank of knight, taking his apprentice on as his own padawan. Obi-Wan should have let the boy go to the Agri-Corps. But, of course, he had to be the one Jedi in the order who knew the fear of being sent away to that dismal place, the one Jedi determined enough to go against the order and take the boy as his padawan despite his age.
Few in the order spark Sheev Palpatine’s rage like Kenobi does. However, it is not time to focus on that. He has a witness to listen to.
The frantic story he hears is…
Interesting.
The dead woman lain regally on the throne, the Duchess Satine, had meant something to Obi-Wan. Enough to cause him to single-handedly best a dozen Mandalorians and the two Sith Zabraks. It reeks of… attachment.
Interesting, indeed.
This development may be useful to him, extremely useful, if the Young Skywalker’s faith in the normally unflappable man can be shaken by it. Kenobi is his last and strongest tie to the order, he knows it. He will need to act quickly if he is to ruin the Jedi Master’s reputation. But it was not so difficult with Ahsoka. It will not be so difficult now- when the subject in question is guilty of a crime in the Jedi’s eyes. And the Republic’s if General Kenobi went to Mandalore alone against orders.
He must get to work immediately. With luck, he may even beat Kenobi back to Coruscant.
Sidious thanks the guard for his help with a quick death. Then he goes through, murdering the rest of the witnesses, making it clear that they had been struck down by a lightsaber. Kenobi foolishly (and conveniently) left his lightsaber behind. Perhaps he had not known where to find it, but the kyber crystal’s grating hum was easy enough for him to locate. He leaves it, damaged, at the scene of the crime. None will doubt that Kenobi massacred these people.
Now, time to return to Coruscant. Dooku can handle the rest of the minutia while he ensures Kenobi’s actions are discovered.
And of course, General Skywalker will be the perfect one to discover them.
. . .
Obi-Wan is pulled rudely from his light meditation (more of a means to ignore Maul than out of any real attempt to calm the raging storm inside him) when Satine’s ship blares with warning alarms and drops out of hyperspace. Something is blocking the hyperlane…
Maul begins to laugh as Kenobi stands, bewildered, to go to the front of the ship.
“Quiet,” He snaps at the Dathomiran, checking the sensors to see what it in their way. There is a communications request, which he opens with great reluctance.
“Ah, so good to see you again, Kenobi.” Greets an older, gray-bearded man whom Obi-Wan knows well.
He cannot quite keep the scowl off his face. Hasn’t he dealt with enough of the Sith today? “I cannot say the same for you, Dooku…” He takes a breath that is meant to be calming. It is not. “While on any other day, I would love to exchange pleasantries… I have no quarrel with you presently. I am not on a republic ship; I am not acting against the separatist alliance at the present. This is a personal excursion in neutral space, and maritime law dictates that you must let me go.”
Maul’s laughter grows, and Obi-Wan is sorely tempted to shut him up. With extreme prejudice.
“I am afraid I cannot do that, grand-padawan mine.” Obi-Wan bristles at the statement. It does not normally bother him so much, but the reminder that the Master of his Master fell to the Sith is not helping his mental state right now.
He once again tries and fails to release his frustration to the Force. He feels as if he could scream, as if that would help.
“And, pray tell… why is that?” He arches a brow, hands clasped behind his back to keep them from trembling with rage and fear. “You have always respected the rules of diplomacy before, Dooku.”
“Well,” the count smiles down on Obi-Wan from the hologram. “See, this is not a separatist ship, either. And this is not a Separatist attack. You have on board with you two Sith, my Master’s former apprentice as well as his apprentice. I have been instructed to… deal with it. And with you… if need be.”
Obi-Wan can feel the tug in the Force as Dooku’s Force signature pushes its way into the ship, gripping Maul and Savage by their throats. The Jedi’s eyes widen as he sees them begin to choke, and he… does not know what to do.
Force, why is he even thinking about saving Maul and Savage?
Because this is not right… Something smells off. If Sidious wants them dead, they must know something.
“Stop!” He shouts, a note of panic in his voice. He doesn’t think, he just… acts, his own Force signature exploding out from him to shove Dooku’s away. He feels blind for a moment, and before he realizes what he is doing, he’s flung his hand towards the hologram, and Dooku is shoved backwards from the transmission pad.
Did he…?
How did he reach Dooku without seeing him?
Obi-Wan stares at his own hand, troubled. At least, nothing else exciting happens until Dooku regains his feet and returns to the Holo-transmitter.
“… Most impressive, Kenobi… but, to my knowledge, that is not the power of the Jedi.” The Count looks intrigued, and once again, Obi-Wan feels the Sith Apprentice’s Force signature reach him, but this time it is not aggressive, it is… questioning. Curious. “I sense much turmoil in you, Master Jedi.”
Obi-Wan checks behind him. The two Dathomiran Sith are fine, both awake now. Savage looks afraid and confused, while Maul just appears entertained. Does he have a death wish or something?
He turns his eyes back to Count Dooku, attempting once again to school his features. The outburst seems to have satisfied his boiling anger somewhat. That thought is not comforting. “I have had a… bad day, to put it lightly.” He hesitates, looking over the older man and sensing an odd sort of… concern, there. “… Dooku, please. If you ever cared at all for Qui-Gon, if you ever cared for the Jedi, let me go.” He asks, hoping against hope that he can sway his grand-Master just this once.
He cannot fail Satine… not again. There are too many failures piled onto his shoulders already.
There is a vague sort of surprise in Dooku’s face, then consideration…
He regards Obi-Wan, quietly sizing him up, and then comes to some sort of decision. “I do care, so I will not merely let you go. I am going to board your ship, Kenobi. Fear not, I have no plans to kill you… for now. I have an offer to make you.”
Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this… but there is little he can do. This ship has almost no offensive capabilities- he was lucky it had a hyperdrive. He is a sitting duck, at Dooku’s mercy.
The communication cuts off, and Obi-Wan reaches for his lightsaber, preparing to be boarded. It is only when the hilt hanging on his hip feels odd in his hand that he remembers he does not have his own. He takes his hand off Maul’s saber, and instead chooses the darksaber. He would rather use that, than the blade that killed his master.
He stands tensely in front of Maul and Savage, who have remained remarkably silent.
When Dooku boards, it is alone, with his lightsabers holstered and a tray with two cups of tea floating by his side. He eyes Obi-Wan’s defensive stance, the hilt in hand but not ignited. A small streak of pride for his own padawan’s teachings strikes him as he sees the strong stance. He may have a bit of a soft spot for his late padawan’s impressive student.
“As I said, I come in peace.” He states while gesturing towards his tea tray. That gets the desired effect, and Obi-Wan relaxes a fraction. He stows his blade on his hip, an odd one that Dooku does not recognize.
The Jedi is still wary. “Why did you need to come on board my ship to make an offer, Dooku?”
“To bring you tea of course, you look like you need it.”
Kenobi just raises an eyebrow, silently telling him he does not believe that bantha shit.
“Sugar? Milk?” At least he is not stupid. With a sigh, he gives a more truthful answer. “There are… too many ears on my ships. I would rather Darth Sidious not hear what I have to say.” Maul takes up laughing again, much to the annoyance of both Kenobi and Dooku. “Do you find something funny?”
“Yes,” The Zabrak answers, but does not elaborate.
Obi-Wan’s expression is sour. “There is no use asking him to make any sense,” He tells Dooku, giving the man his full attention once more. “Milk, but no sugar, thank you.”
Dooku is pleased to find that Obi-Wan takes his tea the same way he does.
Once they both have a cup of tea and the air has relaxed somewhat, Obi-Wan speaks up again. “So, say what you have come to say. I am, unfortunately, at your mercy, Count. I frankly do not know why I am still alive.”
He cannot argue with that. Straight to the point it is, then. “I made you an offer to join me before, Obi-Wan… I would like you to know it still stands.” When he sees the flash of annoyance on Obi-Wan’s face, he is spurred on. “Listen to me. If you deny me, I will kill these rogue Sith as I was ordered to, and send you on your way to Coruscant, where you will be walking into a trap of my Master’s design.”
“Even if you could beat me, and somehow bring all three of us as your captives, it would not matter.” He can tell he has the Jedi’s attention now. “Sidious has too much pull on Coruscant. They will be dead within the hour of arriving anyways, I will be freed, and you will be framed for it all… Like young Padawan Tano was.”
He lets that sink in, watching Obi-Wan consider it. The last remark seems to trouble him enough to seriously consider it.
“He is right,” Maul adds with a small, one-shouldered shrug.
Kenobi shoots the Sith a heated glare. “Why should I take your word into consideration, Maul? You wish to see me fall.”
The observation gets a huff of agreement. “You are correct. But, if you disregard him, you would be walking into a trap much like the one I set for you, Kenobi. It would be a shame if my greatest foe fell for the same trick twice.”
And that… seems to somewhat convince Obi-Wan. Dooku does not know why Maul is helping, but he is not going to look a gift fathier in the mouth.
“… And my other option?” Obi-Wan asks, hesitantly.
Dooku barely restrains his smile. “Know this, Kenobi. Sidious seeks the complete destruction of the Jedi Order and the Republic. While I agree with his visions for an Empire, I do not wish to see the Jedi, my former family, slaughtered for it. If you were to join me… I would take the Dathomirans on my ship, to be kept securely imprisoned until they can be properly held accountable. I no more wish to see Qui-Gon’s murderer escape punishment than you do. And, should you join me… I will reveal all I know to you, and we will destroy Sidious together, bring an end to this war.” He approaches Obi-Wan slowly, radiating calm confidence. “No more Jedi will need to die for this ceaseless war… They can return to being peacekeepers, not soldiers. I know all this death pains you, Kenobi… I remember when you were still a youngling. I remember how you cried over the death of a fragile bird… I know you have always felt an underlying anger at the unfairness, the cruelty of this universe… which I can see now that you have never mastered, only hidden. I can show you how to control it, Obi-Wan. Use it to help people, instead of allowing it to continue to hurt you, and those you care for…”
He can tell he struck a chord there. Obi-Wan does not say anything immediately… his face turned away, looking so very much like when he was admonished as a youngling and a padawan. His jaw works tensely, and Dooku can feel the turmoil in him, the raw pain that is not healing.
He is thinking about it. He’s trying to sort through his emotions, look at this objectively, like a Jedi… and struggling with it.
Dooku remains silent, watching with somewhat soft eyes as he looks upon his grand-padawan… hopefully soon to be his apprentice.
After a long, tense moment of waiting, Dooku steps forward, placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and breaking the silence. “This is a difficult decision for you. Meditate with me.”
The Jedi radiates reluctance, and Dooku gets the sense that he has already sought clarity this way and failed.
“I will guide you, Obi-Wan. You are ill-trained to deal with the emotions you feel now, allow me to help. Let me show you the peace you can have.” There is only a gentle kindness in his voice, which he is surprised to find is genuine. He has known this young man since he was nearly an infant, had seen him grow into a troubled teen, and then to a devoted padawan, and eventually into the witty, clever, graceful, skilled, kindhearted, and strong Jedi he is now.
And, if he has his way, he will see Obi-Wan mature into a powerful, passionate Sith.
The tone helps, and Obi-Wan stiffly nods, retreating to a seating area and taking his place. “If you insist,” He says, a mixture of resignation and curiosity in his voice.
Dooku smiles. He takes a place next to Obi-Wan, puts a hand on his shoulder, and closes his eyes; centering himself and waiting for his grand-padawan to do the same. Obi-Wan struggles to find his center, so Dooku gently provides instruction.
“Obi-Wan, the Dark Side and the Light are neither inherently good, nor evil. They are simply two sides of a whole, the Living Force. You are used to feeling only the light, but now you have both in you.” He gives that a few seconds to sink in before lightly squeezing Obi-Wan’s shoulder and continuing. “You will never center yourself by ignoring half of your own living Force. I know you do not want to, but even if you choose to reject the darkness, you must do so head on. It cannot be ignored, or it will only fester, grow volatile, and eventually ruin you. Accept that it is there, within you, and you will find your balance, your control.”
He can feel Obi-Wan’s hesitation, he feels the younger man’s mental shields tighten up, alarmed that he could be read so easily. Dooku is patient, allowing Obi-Wan time to attempt to do as he says, time to try to find his center. Time to wrap his head around the fact that yes, he has let the Dark Side in, and now he must face it.
Obi-Wan is a much more attentive and intuitive pupil than Qui-Gon was. It takes the Jedi a long while, but less time than Dooku expected. During this time, his shoulders take on a rather defeated, ashamed slump. Dooku feels it when Obi-Wan tentatively allows himself to acknowledge his own darkness, to stare into his own void.
“There,” He speaks gently, feeling Obi-Wan start to find a balance between his darkness and his light. “It isn’t so scary, is it? There is no need to fear it, Kenobi. Now, allow me to guide you further,” He requests, lowering his shields enough that Obi-Wan can feel his Force signature against the Jedi’s shielding. Asking, not demanding access.
He feels Kenobi frown slightly, despite not being able to see it… but after a brief hesitation, the Jedi Master also lowers his shields a fraction, just enough to allow surface thoughts to be shared between them. It will be enough for now. Kenobi does not trust him, and that is fair.
He need not be disappointed, in any case. Kenobi’s surface thoughts are a maelstrom. Pain, hatred, anger, helplessness… all of it swirls inside the younger man, dominating his mind. Dooku is amazed at how outwardly calm he has managed to remain.
Show me what caused this, Dooku requests, using his own, more balanced Force presence like a balm to attempt to calm the storm inside the younger man. He does so by pulling aside each separate emotion so that Obi-Wan may address each individually.
There is reluctance at the request. After a second, Obi-Wan quietly replies in their shared mindspace. It hurts too much. I would rather forget.
You cannot. Dooku asserts firmly, patiently. It has caused you this much pain, it is too significant to forget. Show me, and I can help you process it.
There is another flurry of emotion from Obi-Wan, some too quick to catch, but the sadness is overwhelming. There’s a stray thought- can’t forget her, not ever- that Dooku catches, along with a flash of a face he only half-recognizes. Satine, the Duchess of Mandalore.
He doesn’t have to wonder too hard at why she was so significant. You love her, he asserts, not a question.
… Yes. Comes the soft, broken reply. And then Dooku is thrown into a memory that is not his own.
It moves fast, disjointedly, shown to him in sharp fragments, like reflections in jagged pieces of shattered glass. Obi-Wan is attempting to distance himself from it, a terrible coping mechanism if Dooku has ever seen one. He sees Obi-Wan reach for the Dark Side the first time, sees Satine bring him back to the light… watches her die in Obi-Wan’s arms, declaring her love for him.
He could cry for the young man. The memory held so much pain, even Dooku was not immune.
Your guilt is misplaced, Kenobi. He tells the man after a moment, dragging the emotion forward. You cannot hold yourself responsible for what was out of your control. You did your best, you nearly saved her.
I failed.
You will do better next time. You will learn from this, whether you let me teach you or not. You fell into a trap set specifically for you; it was not something you could have avoided. It is in fact, arrogant to believe that you could have saved her entirely on your own, abandoned by your fellow Jedi and the Republic despite all you have done for them. You have felt your guilt, it does not belong to you, and you will give it to the Force, because it is not yours.
It seems to catch Obi-Wan by surprise that Dooku recommends a Jedi tactic for dealing with the emotion… but his words make sense, and with his help, Obi-Wan manages to let his guilt go. Satine did not blame him, he should not blame himself.
Now consider your Love for her, Dooku presses. Love is an involuntary emotion. You can no more ignore it than you can ignore your need to breathe, or eat, or sleep. The Jedi encourage selfless love, and this was selfless, indeed. But the Jedi reject passion, which love cannot exist without. Selfless or otherwise. Your passion is your greatest strength, Obi-Wan. It is what drives you to save people, day by day. It is what has made you such an unwavering Jedi and such a Valiant hero. Your passion is yours, and you should embrace it, not be ashamed.
Obi-Wan should be concerned by how much sense Dooku makes, perhaps.
But he is too enthralled in how the old, pained knot in his center is finally starting to loosen up. He remains silent, listening and accepting the advice. He hesitates less and less with each new emotion, eventually even lowering his shields further to give Dooku more direct access. He feels like a padawan again, when Qui-Gon used to help him with this as well. He struggled to settle enough to meditate as a child but has since always found comfort in it. Not being able to settle himself again had been nerve-wracking.
Letting Dooku guide him had been the right choice, he feels much more at peace now, more balanced.
And, it surprises him to find that… despite all the trouble it caused him… he feels more centered, more peaceful with the balance of light and dark in him than he ever did before. He does not wish to be consumed by the darkness… but he is not convinced he needs to reject it, either.
When the storm of his thoughts is calmed, leaving his mind peaceful and still like a Naboo lake on a clear day… he is not sure what to do with himself.
Or… that is not technically true. It is clear which path he is meant to take, which path the Force is calling him to… But he is nervous. This is uncharted waters for him.
Obi-Wan, Dooku’s mind gently prods his, You have made your decision. Allow me to train you.
The Jedi Master takes a somewhat shaky breath, finding his new center again. It may go against all he has ever been taught… but it is the right choice. The Jedi have lost their way in this war. There is darkness clouding everything, even Master Yoda cannot see a clear path forward. But for Obi-Wan… the way has never looked so clear.
Force-be-damned, he is going to do this.
You are right. Train me, Grandmaster.
Dooku allows warmth to cross their mental link before he pulls away enough for them to leave their meditative states. “Kneel, Kenobi.” He says. His voice is a gentle rumble.
He is a bit taken aback by Obi-Wan’s eyes when he catches sight of them. They have not taken on the sickly yellow hue of most Sith… instead, his blue is ringed with a rich gold. It is interesting… like his mixed Force signature. Not quite dark, not quite light. He is a fascinating conundrum.
There is a small reluctance, but he can tell Obi-Wan is determined to go through with this, so he kneels before Dooku.
The older man places his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder once more and reaches out to his mind. “Drop your shields, Obi-Wan.”
Again, there is only token reluctance before Obi-Wan obliges, letting Dooku have access to his entire Force signature. It is a graceful thing when calm, as it is now. Even more so with the light and the dark within it, dancing around one another, just barely mingling.
Dooku closes his eyes, dropping his own shields. He feels sudden outrage from his Master over his apprentice bond as Sidious realizes what Dooku is doing, but the bond is severed just as fast. In its place, Dooku forms a new bond with Kenobi, binding the Force signature to his own as his apprentice. It is undoubtedly stronger than the former bond, and far less volatile.
Kenobi gasps, like the air has been punched out of him. It occurs to Dooku that his new apprentice has not had a Force bond since Anakin was his padawan… And this one is much more overwhelming than the Jedi bonds typically are.
He squeezes the former Jedi’s shoulder, then lets him go, reopening his eyes.
“Stand, my apprentice. You will call me Master Tyranus, and you shall be called… Darth Kryze.”
There is a pang of pain over their Force bond as his apprentice hears his Sith name, but it is quickly fed to his darkness, accepted as his own pain, which will heal as he allows the Force to guide him. Pain that means he cared about her, that means he is human, not a machine. Obi-Wan is quite the fast learner.
The new Sith resolves not to dishonor Satine’s clan name. He will do only good while he carries her name. Her memory will help him retain his light.
The newly dubbed Darth Kryze dips his head in understanding, before getting to his feet. “Are you certain I cannot simply call you Dooku? I am so terribly used to it.” Ah, there is his signature coy half-smile, pairing quite nicely with his gold-rimmed irises. He looks like a trickster godling.
The Count rolls his own eyes, not noticing how their own yellow has softened to a warmer color as well. “You will find that I am not so lenient a Master as my padawan was… but let us compromise. You may call me Dooku or Grandmaster if I may call you Little Obi.”
The way Obi-Wan’s nose wrinkles causes a fond, amused smile to find its way to Dooku’s weathered face.
“On second thought, Master Tyranus will do.”
It is an effort not to laugh. He smiles mildly, patting the shorter man’s shoulder. “Good choice, Darth Kryze. Now, we have much to do in a rather short time if we are to destroy Sidious. Take the prisoners aboard my ship while I make a decoy of this one.”
A flare of anger strikes Obi-Wan as he remembers Maul’s presence, but it is quickly quelled. He controls his anger; it does not control him. “Don’t keep me waiting, Master.”
“Cheeky, Apprentice.”
Maul has a disappointed look on his face, but he goes without a fight, or even a taunt. Small blessings.
Obi-Wan finds himself… Eager. The Dark Side so far has not seemed evil at all. He is still driven to do good, and he knows that with a combination of both teachings, he will be able to do that better.
He still has much to learn… and Dooku is right, they have much to do before they defeat the Sith Lord known as Sidious.
