Author's Note: This takes place shortly after the events of the "Deception" arc, where the Council conducts a mission in secret from Anakin, tricking him into believing Obi-Wan is dead. Aside from that, it's not a canon story. It's about Anakin and Obi-Wan rebuilding their relationship as best they can, and Obi-Wan's past with a woman who is not Siri or Satine. In fact, in this AU, they don't exist. This OC takes their place because, well, it's my story and while I love Siri and Satine, this is and I'll do what I want. Haha.

So, if you don't mind a Obi/OC fic, read on. Hope you like it.

Also, I am kind of looking for a Beta. Someone who is well-versed in the lingo and science of Star Wars, because I am afraid I will royally screw up some of the technical stuff.

They entered the atmosphere. Black space gave way to the deep cerulean of early morning on this side of the planet and the old transport groaned. The sound reminded Anakin of a whale, but then again, every landing was reminiscent of diving into sea. Perhaps because the heights of space were his truest home, or perhaps because oceans were still a mythical thing for a boy who had grown up on Tatooine. Either way, he could not help but think of Naboo as he stood in the cockpit and watched the landing unfold.

But this was not Naboo, even if the predominant colors were blue and green. Grennant was temperate world where the trees still outnumbered the inhabitants the millions and the forest monsters were so wild that they appeared by and large prehistoric. The dossier the Council had provided contained warning after warning of the planet's dangers, but it had failed to accurately convey its beauty. Emerald gem tones began to bloom on the tops of coniferous trees as they drew closer to the landing site. The sun was rising. The dew was like diamonds.

"Have you been here before?" Anakin asked the pilot, taking a step forward, so that he was just behind the woman's chair. Her name was Willa and she had been flying since before he was born. She frequently carted the Jedi to various ports of call, but since Anakin tried to fly himself at every opportunity, their paths seldom crossed.

She began the final descent. "No. But from what I heard, they don't exactly have a booming tourism industry."

"What do you mean?"

Willa paused, her jaw clicking as she worked it silently. She gave Anakin a quick glance over her shoulder. "Lots of slave traders making the rounds."

A chill coursed through Anakin. No, it was more like a hundred icicles breaking free and plunging into the top of his head. Willa did not need to be a Jedi to sense it.

"We're in the outer rim, Master Skywalker. You hear stories."

"I thought this was a diplomatic mission to bring Grennant into the Republic." The back of Anakin's knee touched one of the empty chairs and he gave into the desire-no, the need to sit down. Slavery. There was no other word that could make him so ill and so incensed at the same time. Had he a trigger finger, it would have been itching. Even still, his palm grazed his lightsaber.

"I'm sure it is," said Willa. She had a steady, perpetually calm tone of voice. "And all the more reason for it.

"Why didn't it come up?"

Willa turned and looked at Anakin as if she was not fully convinced he was speaking to her. Not only her, not anymore, even if they were alone in the cockpit. "Master Skywalker?"

Anakin shook his head. He motioned that she ought to take care if the landing as they began the final descent.

Had the full story been kept from him? An oversight was possible. But he doubted it.

When the directive was given, less than a day ago, it sounded like one of those boring political missions that Obi-Wan was so bafflingly fond of, and Anakin was the obvious choice for a companion. Besides, they had-how had the Council put it?-work to do, mending their relationship. Rako Hardeen was not mentioned, but there was no question that was the fly in the ointment..

Work on it? As if he was somehow partly responsible for the axe they had taken to his trust in Obi-Wan. And his former Master had nothing to say about it: no, he nodded, and in that servile way that always made Anakin recoil and clench his jaw.

And now, the more he thought about it, had not Obi-Wan seemed preoccupied for the past week? Had he not been in and out of private meetings at the Temple, disappearing at odd times? What had that been about?

Anakin bristled. In what new ways was he being viewed as a liability?

He wanted to purge the memory of Rako Hardeen, and all the sickening deception, but it seemed impossible to let go. He had been made a fool. Worse than that, he had been made an outsider.

"Master Skywalker?"

The ship had touched down. Willa was looking at him with concern. She had kind, motherly eyes, the sort that cut to the heart of the matter without much effort. Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Sorry, I… slavery isn't something I like to hear about."

She nodded. "It's good that you two are here. The Republic can help."

He rose, rolling back his shoulders, bringing his mind back to the present. But the knot in the pit of his stomach would not be undone. "That's what they keep telling us."

Starwars

He was seated, his arms folded and his ankle crossing the opposite knee, slouching ever so slightly. He almost appeared relaxed. It was the way his white-knuckled fist balled up the fabric of his sleeve which insisted otherwise. The depths of his stomach churned.

Obi-Wan had watched the same jewel-toned planet come into view from the relative comfort of shuttle's small common area, which was empty, minus himself. A small number of clone troopers, privates, new graduates, had accompanied the Jedi to Grennant, but they had socialized among themselves for the entire journey. Obi-Wan could hear the familiar low notes of their collective voice coming from the sleeping quarters. And, as usual, Anakin kept himself occupied in the cockpit even when he was not piloting.

On the other side of the window, Grennant asserted its massive, deity-like presence in sacred silence.

Obi-Wan was grateful for the time alone, to prepare and to meditate, but now that they had touched down, he wondered if watching the landing had been the best choice. After all, a man mowed down by a speeder would be insane to plant himself in the middle of the road and take in the best angle of his own doom. For as long as it had been his own choice, Obi-Wan had done whatever he could to avoid Grennant. Now that he was staring into its legendarily lush forests, he had to wonder if something at last had gotten the better of him, like beast assumed to be asleep, but which was only lying in wait, anticipating the inevitable misstep of its prey.

Oh yes, his stomach was churning.

And yet, damned as he felt, Obi-Wan could not say that it was the only emotion coursing through him. There was… Well, he felt quite at a loss to do the sensation justice by calling it by any name. In fact, he was doing his best not to think about it at all.

He stood, ready to search for Anakin because there was no sense in putting off the inevitable, when the door suddenly slid open. The second before this happened, the hair on the back of his neck bristled, and he turned to discover Anakin had already found him. A new mood entered the room, one that was easier to identify because it had become so familiar as of late. The Force between them seemed like it was filled with static.

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. "Is everything well?"

Anakin looked a little like he was fighting a grim smile, one that spoke mostly of frustration. What was very clear was that he was at battle with himself, which Obi-Wan took to be a good thing. It meant he had control over his temper.

"What is it?"

Anakin shrugged and shook his head. "What are we doing here, Obi-Wan? What are we really doing here? Why didn't anyone tell me that Grennant has a problem with slavers?"

Obi-Wan's brow tightened into a knot. Was that what all this was about? "I don't think anyone kept it from you purposefully. Many worlds outside the Republic-a number of worlds within the Republic are victims of the slave trade." He paused. "I'm not sure what you're insinuating."

"I know there's more going on here than meets the eye."

"If you do, I wish you would enlighten me." With a sigh, Obi-Wan retook his seat. Lately, there had been more encounters like this than ever in the past, even during Anakin's challenging teenage years. The foul moods, the accusations, the wounds that could not seem to heal. Things had gone south between them.

There were times when he felt incredibly guilty for the Rako Hardeen deception.

But Anakin was looking at him as though he truly could not believe anyone could be so obtuse. Obi-Wan tried very hard not to mirror the image and shoot it right back. "If you have something to say, I do wish you would just come out with it."

"You've been meeting in secret with members of the Council. I know they don't trust me, but could they be less obvious about it?"

He could only have been a few words in when Obi-Wan felt his spine involuntarily stiffen. His eyes lost focus, transforming Anakin into a blur.

"You had to have been discussing this mission for weeks, but I wasn't told until yesterday. What am I supposed to think, that my invitation was lost due to a computer malfunction? I can only act so surprised when people are lying to my face."

"No, no… You have it all wrong."

Obi-Wan heard his own voice before he fully realized he was speaking. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to stifle himself; it was as if his mouth had stumbled forward. But when Anakin turned to him, the static between them died down. Clarity returned, if only for a few seconds. Perhaps it was the Force coaxing him onward.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you. It's…" Obi-Wan swallowed. "It was about me. Me alone. My past. The Council wasn't certain if it was me who ought to come here."

Like a dying fever, Anakin's expression of disbelief mounted in intensity, but only briefly. Obi-Wan turned away, but the greens of Grennant were too bright. Anakin took one of the other chairs in the room and sat, folding his hands between his knees. He took a breath. "That's the truth?"

"It's the truth."

"The Council wasn't convinced…about sending you?" A guttural sound came from deep within Anakin's throat, as if there was no word that could fully convey his confusion. "Why?"

Silence followed. Silence pregnant with Obi-Wan's mounting desire to discover some mystical new way to end a personal conversation without revealing anything about himself. He squirmed in his chair. As much as he ever squirmed. It was hardly detectable, but Anakin had to recognize these unique signals of discomfort. The embers in his eyes were begining to cool. When he spoke again, his voice was almost gentle.

"Why, Obi-Wan?"

He began. "Do you know who we're meeting today?"

"A woman who runs an orphanage. Right?"

"She's the headmistress of a group of schools for orphaned children," said Obi-Wan, as if Anakin had sold her short, which he had, though unknowingly. "You've heard about the slavers, but the much bigger problem is the epidemic gang violence. Grennant's population is very tribal. This woman has devoted her life to the children who've lost their parents during these squerimishes, which are fairly regular, I'm afraid."

Anankin nodded soberly. "I take it there's more to it than that?"

"Yes. She used to be a Jedi."

Used to be. That always caused a round of shockwaves. This time was no different. Anakin's brain began to make quicker connections. "You knew her then?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You were...friends?"

"The best of friends," said Obi-Wan. "In fact...you could say that we were very much...in love."