Title: Broken Ends
Rating: PG
Summary: A week after the Battle of Geonosis, Obi-Wan Kenobi has little better to do than sit and repair his broken lightsaber. What thoughts creep into his consciousness as he repairs the broken ends?
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, nor do I own Obi-Wan (I wish I did). I do, however, own an extensive collection of Star Wars action figures and other odd items, like Episode II cereal boxes and a really old, somewhat crusty cake topper from my 10th birthday.
Notes: I know, it's just a 'lil fic, and prolly not very good... but I was bored, and this idea popped into my head, so... I decided to just write it down, regardless. Constructive criticisms are APPRECIATED and awarded with invisible cheese sticks.
It was a blade... nothing more, nothing less. True, it shone like a star, and it lit up the dark places, but it was only a blade. It could cut through durasteel as easily as a vibroblade through unprotected flesh, but it was only a blade. Without a hand to guide it, it was nothing more, nothing less, than an inanimate, harmless object.
Obi-Wan turned all these thoughts over in his mind as he held the silvery cylinder up to the light of his dim glowlamp. The cylinder had been severed neatly in half, its broken edges smooth as glass from the head that had cleaved them. Lumps of melted metal clung to the torn edges like globs of coagulating blood to a wound, and Obi-Wan knew it could not be saved. He sighed and put the cylinder down on the cold metal table, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
It had been a very long week. The battle of Geonosis was fresh in everyone's mind, not so much for its sheer violence and loss of Jedi life, but for the reasons it had happened. The Republic was becoming an Empire, the Separatists were threatening an overthrow and violent galactic anarchy, and to top it all off, the Chosen One was missing. Indeed, it had been a very long week for a Jedi so troubled as Obi-Wan Kenobi. Things were happening too quickly, and nothing was going quite the way he had planned or even hoped.
He stood slowly from his chair, wincing as pain shot through his injured right leg. The wound Tyrannus had made ran deep, and though the heat of the lightsaber had cauterized the wound and prevented blood loss, it had done very severe damage to several larger blood vessels and the muscles in Obi-Wan's leg. Lucky Anakin, Obi-Wan grimaced, limping across the floor. He could walk without an arm. They had fitted him with a prosthesis as soon as he returned to Coruscant, and he had adapted very well to the situation. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was hobbling along with enough stitches in his leg to sew one of Padme's ceremonial gowns. Perhaps if Tyrannus had chopped Obi-Wan's entire leg off, he would be able to get around a bit quicker. Instead, he was stuck in the temple with nothing to do but re-build his broken lightsaber.
Obi-Wan had a lot to occupy his thoughts as he waited for his leg wound to heal. Qui-Gon had never told him that Dooku was his master, but then again, why would it have mattered? It was only after Qui-Gon's death, or shortly beforehand, that Dooku turned to evil. Surely it meant nothing about Qui-Gon, or Obi-Wan for that matter. There was no connection. Still, it sparked a hot, fierce anger in Obi-Wan's heart to hear such sith scum dishonoring his fallen master's name in such a way. The anger disturbed Obi-Wan, for above all things, a Jedi must never know anger - Yet the beleaguered Jedi Master was constantly struggling with that very same emotion, just as his Padawan Anakin often did.
The difference was, Obi-Wan won his battles against anger. Anakin tended to lose.
Anakin was a loose cannon. One moment he could be rational, a talented prospective Jedi, and the next he could be a raging, senseless creature with only the desire to kill his perceive enemies. He had decimated an entire camp of Tuskins, used his rage to slaughter dozens of Geonosians, and attempted to defeat Dooku with the Sith tactics of anger and hate - all signs pointing nowhere good for the young Force-sensitive. Then there were his feelings for the senator Padme. They were ill-concealed and ill-planned, thoughtless and primal, deadly as poison, and Obi-Wan knew they would only lead to pain and suffering. What good could come out of such a match? If Anakin had thought out his love for her, he would have seen that it could never lead to anything but pain, suffering, and death. Young lovers were a thoughtless crowd, though, especially when they were as impulsive and stubborn as Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala.
Obi-Wan was sure he knew where Anakin was now. He had snuck off to some remote city on Naboo to wed his beloved, and this stirred up deep misgivings in the stolid heart of Obi-Wan Kenobi. In quiet hours of meditation, when he could reach out and touch the minds of those light-years away from his lonely temple room, he could sense Anakin and his bride, as well as another mind with them... And this was what most terrified Obi-Wan. If Anakin were to turn towards the dark side, as Obi-Wan knew in his heart he would, any offspring he had would be a threat, either to the Republic or to Anakin... either way, the child would only be a pawn. Obi-Wan couldn't stand to see something like that happen. He resolved to do anything in his power to protect the child, and his mother, from whatever evils that attempted to harm them.
Having collected the pieces he needed to reconstruct his saber from a small, locked box on his dresser, Obi-Wan limped back to his chair and sat down a bit more heavily than he would have liked. His shoulder had started acting up again, and he suddenly felt like an old man. Pushing the pain from his mind, the Jedi Master began working on a new lightsaber. He knew he would need one, whatever the coming years brought with them. It was only a blade, but in the hands of a madman it could do great evil... yet in the hands of a warrior of Justice, it could perhaps prevent the end of goodness in the galaxy.