Time Frame: Clone Wars
Author's Note: This is Akira Kurasawa's Yojimbo meets the Star Wars universe. I was inspired when I saw The Clone Wars episode "Bounty Hunters". If you've seen Yojimbo (or Fistful of Dollars or Last Man Standing) you pretty much know all the major beats of the plot, but I'd like to think that there might still be a surprise or two.
Special thanks to Jaira and Dan for their beta work and encouragement (or crazed stalking depending on the day).
Disclaimer: You know the routine. Just playing in the sandbox for a little while.
At Galaxy's End
Down.
Down.
Down.
A sea of never-ending purple closed in. The light was so far away it shimmered and grew fainter with every passing moment. He reached up through the murkiness, as if to touch the light above. Hundreds of tiny bubbles rushed past taunting his oxygen starved lungs. Time was running out as the powerful currents pulled him deeper.
Panic would only shorten his life. Struggle would sap his last reserves of strength. Fear would crush him as easily as the water that surrounded him, but Obi-Wan Kenobi would not give in.
A dark shadow swept overhead and crashed down, stirring the already agitated waters. The impact knocked precious air from his lungs and water flowed in like liquid fire. The instinctive cough made things worse as the helpless Jedi spun end over end. Costly moments were wasted before orientation and the light above was again found.
In the shadowy depths below, Obi-Wan watched his dying transport sink deeper into the abyss. From far above, the lake hadn't looked that deep, not that there had been much time to observe the crash landing site as everything had happened so suddenly. His transport—damaged in a scuffle with Separatist ships near Rishi—dropped out of hyperspace and had broken apart over the planet. Flashes of purple and electric blue arcs lighted up below, and the water vibrated as the craft was crushed by the water pressure.
He was still being pulled deeper.
Calm.
His body was tiring, his movements sluggish from struggling, and the cold numbing away the pain. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan stilled his thoughts as his body was carried along by the powerful current. There seemed to be as much water above as below.
The Force revealed that any fauna in the lake had dispersed with the violent crash and that there was no one close who could offer him aid. This was his battle alone, but he was not without hope.
The moment he felt the surge, he was in action. The distress overtaking his body was pushed aside as he called on oxygen deprived muscles and drew his hands up.
Absolute focus.
The Force, along with the water, provided just the resistance he needed to push him backward.
Timing was everything.
A giant air bubble released from the sinking transport bolted upward through the water. Colliding with the void, Obi-Wan was desperate for air. Hacking. Choking up the water he had earlier swallowed, he was barely aware enough to change the direction of the Force push. Using the low resistance created by the large air pocket, he was propelled upward.
Breaking the surface, Obi-Wan gasped for breath, but his water-laden lungs had other plans. Violent coughs shook him as he fought to keep his head above the crashing waves. The churning waters shoved the Jedi to and fro as the winds seemed to bear down in collusion to drown him.
Over the white crests, Obi-Wan spied distant rocks jutting upward along a shoreline. Ignoring the exhaustion, he pushed forward, working his way toward the outcropping. Obi-Wan had survived a ship falling out the sky; a little water would not be the end of him.
Frozen fingers gripped the slippery rock face as he pulled his body up enough to spare himself of swallowing any more water. He rested his head against the unforgiving stone, unsure how he would muster the strength to get out of the water.
A voice from above.
Rodese? Obi-Wan thought he was hearing things and cocked his head to the side, but was relieved to discover he had not lost his mind. A Rodian was perched on the rock staring down at him. A spray of icy water pelted Obi-Wan as he tried to speak, but the chattering of his teeth hindered anything he might have said.
"Hang on," the Rodian said in Basic as he rose up and disappeared beyond the rocks.
"I don't intend on letting go," Obi-Wan managed with a bit of effort.
•
Obi-Wan shifted on the broken down couch. He tugged at the edges of the thermal blanket, common in most spacecraft emergency kids. Although dressed in dry clothes, his very bones were still saturated with the biting cold of the lake.
"I am unsure if my distress call went out," he said.
The Rodian shook his head. "Even if you did, it is unlikely to be of any use." He motioned upward with a heavily scarred hand as he crossed the cluttered chamber carrying a steaming cup of kaf. "Oranda puts out so many solar flares interstellar communication is nearly useless. To contact your people, you'll have to go to the capital. Out here, we can hardly communicate from town to town."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan said as he curled his cold-numbed fingers around the warm offering. He looked to his rescuer and realized the Rodian was much older than he first realized.
As if aware of Obi-Wan's observations, the Rodian brushed his hand over the silvery ridge of spines that crested his head. "Gon. Just call me Gon. I told you earlier, but I don't think you were conscious enough to hear me."
Obi-Wan smiled. He had recovered from his earlier ordeal and could now hold onto his rescuer's name. He tipped his head slightly, though the motion made his head swim a bit. "Thank you, Gon." His gaze slid along the wall behind the large workbench that dominated the room. Half hidden under a tacked up schematic, was the emblem of one of the preeminent houses of the Bounty Hunters' Guild.
The Rodian crossed the wall and adjusted the schematic to hide what lay beneath. A thoughtful look lighted his dark eyes. "Gon's not my real name," he said as he went and poured himself a drink. "You're at the galaxy's end. We few so far from everything consider this place a fresh start. Many here have left their old lives behind."
"Galaxy's end?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding hoarser than he would have liked.
Settling down at the workbench, Gon considered his drink. "You are in the Oranda system. You are as far from the Core as you can be."
If Obi-Wan's memory was correct, Kamino was the nearest point of contact. He frowned as he leaned back on the couch and stroked his beard with his free hand.
It would be days before anyone realized he was out of contact.
Feeling the congestion in his lungs, he set the kaf cup aside before a coughing fit overtook him. The action aggravated his still-aching chest.
"You are lucky to be alive, friend," Gon said.
When the onboard systems had completely failed and not even the escape pod was serviceable, Obi-Wan had done what any calm thinking Jedi would have done: cut himself an opening in the hull.
"I do not believe in luck."
The Rodian eyed Obi-Wan every time he spoke. His clipped Coruscant accent seemed to make the being wary.
After a time, Gon shook his head and straightened. "Whether you believe in luck or not, I do. There was a greater hand in all this that kept you from being broken corpse at the bottom of the lake for the aki fish to feast on. Though you many have only suffered bruises, you were hypothermic and half drowned when I fished you from the lake. The fact that you are still sitting here speaking with me is a miracle." Gon illustrated with his hand in a deep sweep as he looked upward. "Your ship came down at such a steep trajectory, and I saw no escape pod released. No being should have survived that."
Shifting to look about the shack without disturbing his admittedly minor injuries, Obi-Wan conceded with a nod. He noted his trousers and boots drying near an ancient heating unit. The ragged remains of his tunics were in a pile in the corner.
Beyond the couch that he was occupying, there was a freighter captain's char and a cot stacked against the wall. The workbench was meticulously set up to repair anything, but especially droids. The shack was cluttered from wall to wall with parts, battered casings, and other equipment stacked high on shelves; but no sign of anything remotely resembling a lightsaber.
Obi-Wan remembered that his lightsaber had been in his hand when he flung himself from the breech moments before the ship crashed and started taking on water. Only as the numbness left his mind, did the reality of the situation settle in. He wasn't just lost and out of communication; he was missing his weapon. Anakin would never let him live this down.
"Did you perhaps—"
A deep sigh. The Rodian's snout twitched. "I found you and barely you. The lake, she takes it all with her. It is a shame, but there is nothing of the ship that can be salvaged."
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Obi-Wan took in the weight of what had happened. Looking over at the old Rodian, he asked, "Forgive me, but where am I? The Oranda system?"
"Oranda IV, or as settlers around here call it, the galaxy's end."
The planet was away from the major fighting. The Oranda system, as of yet, had not proven any strategic value to the Republic or the Separatists. Still, Obi-Wan thought, there was a vague familiarity about it, something that reached beyond battle maps and into the studies of his youth.
Whatever it was escaped him.
"Where am I from the nearest city? I need to get to the capital soon."
Gon burst into laughter and started mumbling in his native tongue.
Obi-Wan did not find the situation very amusing.
"We are on the very outskirts of civilization and so very far from the capital." The mirth faded from the Rodian's aura, and a deep sense of dissolution washed over him. "So very far from the capital," he repeated as he shook his head. Getting up, Gon retrieved an ancient datapad from the workbench and called up a map before handing it off to Obi-Wan. Gon pointed to the spot near the lake. "You are here."
Obi-Wan studied the image. He was over a thousand kilometers from the capital of Pirin. A bit more than walking distance. Motioning toward a marker, he asked, "What about Tehli? It's just ten klicks away."
"No!" Gon barked. As if realizing what he had done, the Rodian sank to the captain's chair and waved a hand before his face. "I'm sorry. It's just that you should not go to Tehli. It is very dangerous there."
Danger was all relative, Obi-Wan thought dryly. "Why?"
"No one cares what happens in Tehli. We cried for help when the bandits came and the regional magistrate told us to deal with it ourselves. What we got for it were gangs overrunning the town. There's nothing but death there now." Gon placed both hands on his knees and stared at the floor. After a bit, he looked up. "I will take you to the divided road outside Tehli. You can take it to Hazaar or Sinda. There, you might be able to find a ride to the capital."
It was clear that Gon did not want to discuss Tehli, so Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the datapad. He studied a barren patch between their location and Tehli that was labeled Mabet.
•
Obi-Wan's breath hung in the frosty air. Each chilly inhale made his chest ache, and he found himself pulling close the long coat that Gon had given him. The deep brown tunics were warm and comfortable, but tugging at the narrow sleeves of the coat, Obi-Wan noted that black wasn't his color.
"Not quite your style?" There was amusement in the Rodian's voice as he guided the light hovertruck along a narrow curving road that slipped along the rolling prairie.
"I am quite appreciative of the clothing," Obi-Wan said, "but you are right; this is not my usual fare." He was already beginning to miss his customary tans and browns.
The Rodian glanced over just as Obi-Wan brushed a dusty smudge from his dark sleeve. "You'll blend in on the open road," Gon said. He then muttered, "As long as you don't do anything to draw attention to yourself."
Obi-Wan gave no sign that he had heard the softly spoken words.
Gon reached out and fiddled with the controls on the battered dashboard. "It will get you to Hazaar, and then you should be able to find a transport heading to Pirin. Surely, someone will be going to market." The older being shook his head. "There used to be transports from Tehli all the time. Much trade, but since the bandits started roaming the hills and the gangs set up shop demanding high protection fees that's all disappeared. The magistrate from Hazaar doesn't bother coming this way. Even he doesn't want to get involved with the gangs."
To the south blue winter flowers jutted up between blades of yellowed grass that shifted in gentle waves in the calm breeze. Somewhere beyond the low hills were the pearl marshes, but they did not interest Obi-Wan. His gaze turned to the north where distant mountains framed the horizon. For a moment, he thought he heard the deep reverberations of a meditation bell, but the vibration and rattle of the vehicle quickly dispelled the notion.
Guiding the hovertruck to a stop, Gon paused before turning to Obi-Wan. "This is as close to Tehli as I get." He pointed east along the path. "Follow that, and over the hill you will come to a fork in the road. The signs will guide you. Go left to Hazaar, where you might find help."
Obi-Wan jumped from the flatbed of the truck, landing easily on the rough road. Or at least as easily as he would have save his recent ordeal. He turned to look up at the old Rodian. "And if I go to the right?"
Gon wrinkled his snout. "For a man who fought so hard to live yesterday, it would be foolish to throw your life away today by going to Tehli. Go left, to Hazaar."
Obi-Wan nodded and offered a shallow bow as Gon turned the vehicle around in a tight circle and headed back in the direction he had come at a far quicker pace.
For a time, Obi-Wan stood there staring out at the stretch of road as it rose over the hill and disappeared. He thought of everything Gon has said and knew the old Rodian to be right. He still had no idea if his emergency burst transmission had gone out, let alone been received by anyone. Even if they had a planet to start on, no one would know where to look. His transport had been swallowed by the lake. He needed to contact the Jedi Temple.
Striding forward along the dusty road, Obi-Wan mounted the hill and found another small dip where the road forked and the path to the right disappeared over another incline and obscuring what lie ahead while the other flowed like a ribbon toward the eastern horizon.
Once at the fork, reason told Obi-Wan to go left, but a gentle breeze so much warmer than the cool air that drifted through the shallow valley, called to him from the other direction.
And he obeyed.