Chapter One: Timing
Obi-Wan's heart was breaking. But still he fought Anakin. This horrific, twisted ruin of his best friend. The Force itself writhed and boiled around him, threatening to engulf him in a physical representation of the agony of Anakin's fall. It laughed at him, as it slowly ripped him apart.
It laughed at his faith in the Force; his faith in Anakin. Because he finally understood. The why danced in front of him, screaming his blame to the world, no longer a small sigh or a too-long glance that could be ignored. It had been his fault. Oh, yes, the why mattered a great deal.
Obi-Wan fought without his mind, without his heart. He gave himself to the Force, with half a hope that Anakin—Vader—would triumph. That he would die and not live to see the full extent of his friend's fall and its echo across the galaxy. But he was still a Jedi, and he served the Republic (even if it no longer existed). To kill Vader would be a blow to this newly formed Empire, and, if Yoda were as successful with the Emperor, the galaxy would at last be free of the Sith.
Even though killing Anakin would tear him apart.
Over and over, he barely blocked Anakin's attacks. How long could he sustain this fight? Should he defend until he could no longer defend, or should he attack? Should he seek the thread in the Force that would lead to Anakin's death? Yoda's insistence played through his mind—The boy you trained, gone he is. Twisted by the dark side—but he could not yet accept the truth of it. As long as Vader looked like Anakin, he could not distinguish them.
So he continued to defend. And to break. He thought of the boy who had dived head-first into everything. The boy with so much compassion in him, so much life. He remembered "The Hero With No Fear", the Jedi who had continually done the impossible, who had shown him what it really meant to be alive. The apprentice who had given him grey hairs before his time. He almost laughed at the irony—at the countless times he'd told him, "You're going to be the death of me."
No, he could not try so little to reach that boy again. Cold reasoning had not worked—a Jedi could not reach a Sith. But could he not reason with Anakin in another way? Could he not still hope to reach his brother, to find him again beneath the cruel, twisted mouth and the mocking eyes of Vader?
But he could not forget the security holos, the corpses strewn about the Temple like dirty laundry, the lightsaber belonging to Anakin that had destroyed the only family he had ever known. The pain caught in his throat and the words he needed to say burned inside him, consuming the breath in his lungs and silencing his voice. And then he was fighting for his life. All thoughts of speech made impossible by the relentless and steadily expanding power of Anakin Skywalker, the dark Jedi.
Darth Vader.
The Sith Lord.
Obi-Wan let the Force take him. He was a Jedi and Vader was his enemy. It was as simple as that. And as painful.
. . . . .
Anakin's surprise at Obi-Wan's appearance had been quickly replaced by disgust. Some part of him had hoped that Obi-Wan would survive Order Sixty-Six. He had wanted to give him the choice to renounce the Jedi and join him in building a new Empire. But, clearly, Obi-Wan was going to be as stubborn as ever.
The Jedi had betrayed him. They had always distrusted him; even Obi-Wan had had his doubts in the beginning. But still Anakin had hoped Obi-Wan would understand. The Jedi had grown lax in their guidance, allowing corruption and bureaucracy to rule; only the Sith could bring order to the galaxy. But the one Jedi he would have been proud to call brother—to welcome into his new Empire—had chosen to oppose him.
By not accepting what had to be done, and not allowing others to do it, Obi-Wan had forced his own death. He was weak. And that weakness had held them both back for too long. If it had not been for Obi-Wan, Anakin was sure he would have been strong enough to save Padmé by himself. He would not now have to rely on Palpatine!
It disappointed him that Obi-Wan didn't understand, but his disappointment had vanished in a fog of rage when he had discovered that Obi-Wan had prompted Padmé to share his intolerance. She had looked at him with horror—the one person in the galaxy who had nothing to fear from him! Obi-Wan had done that. He had poisoned her mind with his Jedi-centric babble, his narrow-minded opinions, and his mistaken view of what must be done—of what were acceptable losses to achieve the restoration of order in the galaxy.
And so they fought. Saber matching saber, like a parody of their life together. Obi-Wan had not been Anakin's only lightsaber tutor, but he had trained the longest—and fought the longest—with Obi-Wan. But then, as now, Anakin felt superior. He was in control. He felt the Force and it obeyed him. Obi-Wan was dead, as dead as Dooku had been, when he had first used his anger as a weapon those short months ago—how things had changed since then! How far had he now come, without the Jedi holding him back! The fight went on and on, and Anakin took a perverse delight in cultivating a sense of success in Obi-Wan's mind.
He was easily pushing Obi-Wan to the limit of his endurance. He felt his anguish, the wavering of his connection with the Force. Soon, that connection would fail and Anakin would be there—just as he had promised, he thought with a smirk—to send him into the Force. To rid himself of this last attachment to the Jedi.
But part of Anakin still delayed the inevitable, still sought an alternative to killing his old master. Part of him still remembered their friendship, their bond. He considered again trying to reason with him—but if Obi-Wan couldn't trust him to do the right thing, then it was impossible. Obi-Wan was a Jedi Master. He had been on the Council and endorsed the Code, the very Code that had forced him to hide his love for Padmé. When the Jedi should have encouraged their love, they had made them feel shame. Every day, Anakin had wanted to shout to the world of his love for her. That he lived for her, breathed for her, died for her. Only Palpatine realised what she meant to him. Only Palpatine had offered to help. Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Obi-Wan had done nothing to help him… except to convince Padmé that he was evil. Yes, he had done that much.
Anakin felt his rage, felt it feeding the dark side of the Force, and he enjoyed it. Ironically, he felt strangely calm, detached. He picked the moment in which he would call fully upon its power to sweep away his past and usher in a new life. A new life as Darth Vader, with Padmé and his child by his side and the galaxy at their feet. He had wasted enough time, and now he was going to end it. The last vestiges of his old life would die along with his old master, and Darth Vader would arise, invincible. The Dark Lord of the Sith.
. . . . .
Through the Force, Obi-Wan sensed the platform as it passed him by—the one point of safety in the river of lava. He jumped, seeking it, escaping for a moment the darkness billowing about Anakin. His feet found their mark. Anakin was late, but he too escaped a fiery death, landing instead upon a hovering droid. Whether by Anakin's own power, or simply coincidence, the droid began speeding towards the platform and Obi-Wan allowed himself only a moment's pause to draw the Force around him, reaffirming his connection.
In that moment, he heard a low whine and felt a shadow pass overhead. Obi-Wan looked up in time to see the ship and a different kind of shadow settled on his heart. The Emperor!
Yoda had failed.
And now there were two Sith on Mustafar.
Obi-Wan knew he could not fight them both. But what was the alternative?
He had always known the best course of action, had always known what he should do. But, suddenly, he couldn't trust himself anymore. He couldn't see the path that he should follow, the choice that he should make. Should he try to fight, knowing he would almost certainly fail, or should he flee? Should he go into hiding—save his own skin—and leave the galaxy in the hands of the Sith? He remembered the Sith hovering beside him and snapped his attention back to the present. But Anakin was clearly still distracted by his Master's premature arrival; Obi-Wan could feel his annoyance leaking out into the Force.
They had continued to drift downstream, and now Obi-Wan could see the landing pad upon which sat Padmé's ship. The silver hull held back the flaming heat of this Sith planet, but it would not hold out the Emperor. Suddenly, his mission was clear to him. He would not stay to fight two Sith. He could not save Anakin, but he could still save Padmé.
He had been charged with protecting her many times and he would not stop now—especially now that there were two lives sharing her body. He would live to protect her and her unborn child. The last vestige of Anakin Skywalker. Yes, that was worth protecting. Worth running and hiding and leaving the galaxy in the hands of the Emperor.
His decision made, Obi-Wan directed the platform into the bank. For several seconds, Anakin's droid continued to travel down the river of lava, until he noticed that Obi-Wan was no longer beside him. Anakin growled and forced the droid backwards towards Obi-Wan, making slow progress against the rush of air flowing along with the lava.
The peace of certainty resettled around Obi-Wan, in direct opposition to the snarl of rage on Anakin's face. He sighed, acknowledging and accepting the pain of Anakin's betrayal, releasing his despair into the Force. Now the words flowed freely. "You were the Chosen One!" he cried. "It was said that you would destroy the Sith—not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness! You were my brother Anakin. I loved you!"
His only reply was another sneer. He did not wait for Anakin to reach him. He turned and fled across the blasted plain, reaching the landing platform as Anakin jumped from the droid.
Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could, calling on the Force to help him, but Anakin was still faster. He felt Anakin's pull on the Force and knew that he would not make it to Padmé's ship unless he found some distraction. Then inexplicably, Palpatine himself gave him the time he needed.
As the ship rose into the air, Obi-Wan looked down on the Sith one last time, on the planet blanketed with fire and shadow. Part of him regretted leaving two Sith behind him, but he could not deny the relief he felt that his destiny had not been to kill Anakin.