Author's Note: The promised Obi-Wan/Ventress fic (with more chapters to come, most definitely). I honestly didn't think I'd be able to get it in before finals, but, well, things worked out in the end. We'll get more of a feel for the intense nature of their dark relationship in the next chapter. Chapter one is, of course, our much-needed set-up. Ventress does, after all, need a new ship. For the record, Zonama Sekot was renowned for making the fastest ships in the galaxy, wonderous living creations that bonded with their owners. Much more information can be found in Star Wars: Rogue Planet. Enjoy!

The jungle air was as a thick, curling blanket, and Asajj Ventress wished she could shrug it off as easily as she did her cloak. The heat shimmered all around her, distorting the mountains barely visible along the horizon. It had taken her months to find this place, and long weeks to finally reach it. The road to Zonama Sekot, the rogue planet, was a hard one indeed.

She stopped a moment, listening hard to the sounds of the forest. Ever since Dooku had fitted her with—she closed her eyes at the thought and lifted a hand to her head—well, with whatever he'd fitted her with, her perception had been harder to focus, and much harder to interpret. Sitting down on a fallen tree, she opened her pack and reached for a bit of food, chewing thoughtfully and examining her surroundings.

It felt good to be alone. Truly, completely alone. Here the Force enveloped and soothed her, and she could be calm. Memories of wars and battles seemed as though they had come from another life, another time. Only the scars she carried were any testament to what she used to be.

She settled in for the night, spreading her cloak over the leaf-strewn floor and lying atop it. There were no stars to see beneath the sprawling forest canopy, but Ventress didn't mind. She contented herself with closing her eyes and listening, as she hadn't done since she had been Ky Narec's apprentice.

He woke up, panting and sweating, and clapped a hand to his clammy forehead. The digichron on his nightstand declared the ridiculously late hour in bright blue digits. Obi-Wan rolled out of bed and walked into the 'fresher, splashed his face with cold water and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

The lines on his forehead were drawn up in worry, and his blue eyes were clouded with uncertainty. It had been so real. He shook his head dismissively, leaned down and drank a little water. A dream and nothing more. He replayed the details in his mind and shuddered. Surely the Force wasn't speaking to him through that. Obi-Wan was no innocent but even just thinking about it made the blood rush to his face.

But even more puzzling was the dream's subject, and… well, he didn't even want to consider it. She was dead, and the dead stay dead.

The click of the main door sliding back into place called him back to reality. He's returning rather late. Obi-Wan peered around the doorframe and saw Anakin stumbling over a chair, trying desperately to reach his bed without detection. It was no good.

"Late night?" Anakin looked over at his former master's figure, framed in the light of the doorway, and smiled widely.

"I thought you'd be asleep." As always, his former Padawan had that look plastered on his face, a mischievous smirk that always meant trouble.

"Well, I was, but—" he closed his mouth abruptly, letting the sentence die. Anakin cocked a concerned eyebrow at him, but the smile was still playing around his lips.

"Bad dream?" Force! Was he that easy to read?!

"Not bad," he said, retreating to his sleep chamber. "Just odd."

Anakin followed and sat on his master's sleep couch. Obi-Wan gave him a little shove and lay back, staring at the ceiling. The younger Jedi was still eying him with a measure of disbelief so he sighed, giving in.

"What is it, Anakin?"

"It's just, well, aren't you even going to ask me where I've been?" Obi-Wan blinked. Always a game with this one.

"You seem to be in good health, not a scratch on you, and you've come back of your own accord so… I see no reason to interrogate you." Anakin's incredulous look remained firmly in place.

"Okay." It was half-shrug, half-sigh. "Goodnight then, Master."

"Goodnight, Anakin."

Anakin switched off the light in the 'fresher before retiring. Obi-Wan waited until he heard the boy's door slide shut and then exhaled loudly. He was well aware of where Anakin had been. Force, every Padawan in the Temple knew where Anakin went at night! Even preoccupied, he had felt Senator Amidala's Force signature entwined with Anakin's own. The thought of the two lying together just made him think all the more.

Asajj Ventress. He gave a low chuckle and felt the heat rise to his cheeks. Honestly, what was his brain playing at?

"You want what?" The Sekotan eyed her incredulously. Ventress blinked and spoke again.

"I've come for a ship."

It was as honest a request as any, but the Sekotan could hardly believe his ears.

"But we haven't… you see, it's been so… FITCH!" Another Sekotan came forward, and eyed the stranger with blatant curiosity.

"Speak up, what is it?" Ventress turned toward the newcomer and began again.

"I've come for a ship. I've heard that ships made on Zonama Sekot are the best in the galaxy." She fixed Fitch with a clear, unwavering stare. "I want one."

Fitch was unfazed.

"You know what they are, I assume?" He patted the nearest ship's bright hull with a weathered hand. The ship gave a nearly indiscernible shudder, and, if Ventress wasn't quite mistaken, a genuine wave of pleasure rippled through the Force. Her eyes widened. So it is true! Living ships!

Fitch read the realization in her eyes and nodded smugly. "That's right, miss, living ships. Certainly we could fashion one for you, should you find an appropriate seed partner."

Ventress lay a hand on the cool surface of the ship and felt it respond through the Force.

"I am ready."

Fitch eyed her appraisingly, and for a moment Ventress thought he would refuse. But the Sekotan cocked his head to one side, brow furrowed.

"Pardon me for asking, but how did you even get here, miss? Zonama Sekot is usually reluctant to let off-worlders into the atmosphere." Clearly there was something about this young woman that Sekot seemed to like. Who was he to deny a ship to someone so exemplary?

"It was a long journey," the girl said, her clear eyes clouding with feeling. "Perhaps your planet thought I had been through enough."

That's true enough, the Sekotan mused, tracing the red scar running up Ventress's white arm with searching eyes.

"This way," he said, and Ventress followed, cloak rustling in her wake.

The Sekotan led her to a dimly lit room. Ventress spied hundreds upon thousands of small, thorny looking orbs at the bottom of the circular pit, teeming like the surface of the ocean. Here the Force truly dwells.

"We haven't had a proper ceremony in ages," Fitch said. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a more traditional introduction to the seed partners."

Ventress's eyes were still fixed upon the thorny orbs' progression. "I don't mind," she said in barely above a whisper. "I feel properly introduced enough."

She was led down into the pit, and the orbs swarmed around her. A soft blue light pulsated in the gloom. Ventress closed her eyes and let them know her, explore her. She was consumed by an unshakable drowsiness and lay down, drifting away into blissful sleep.

"So why were you up so late last night?"

Obi-Wan gave a little jolt. "I'm sorry, Anakin, did you say something?" He was clearly preoccupied, but it wasn't in Anakin's nature to let it lie.

"What happened to you last night? You seemed really out of it."

His former Master ran a distracted hand through his hair. He couldn't possibly tell Anakin. He'd never let him rest!

"Maybe when you're older," he grumbled, eliciting a groan from his partner.

"Older? Sheesh." Anakin poked at his bacon with a listless finger, a very pronounced scowl shading his features. Obi-Wan watched him with every sign of fatherly affection.

"Good news!" Fitch's eyes were practically bulging with excitement. "You have three seed partners willing to become your ship!" Ventress gazed at him groggily.

"Three?"

"Yes, ma'am. Three seed partners."

She smiled and pulled herself from the ground.

"We've got everything ready for you. You'll need to be a part of the building process, of course. Your seed partners will want you there." She nodded.

Ventress stood in the middle of a sparse representation of a starfighter, a spindly frame of alloy beams. The ship was built around her, grew around her, and she aligned her self with the Force to help it along. She could feel how shy her new ship was, and found herself shy in return. In a way it reminded her of herself, of her own rebirth, and she willed it not to be afraid, reaching out to it in the Force, telling it everything would be alright. I am not an 'it.' I am most assuredly female; Ventress smiled at her ship's quick clarification.

We will be good friends, you and I. The ship gave a ripple of affirmation.

His hands were hot on her body, rough calluses running down the curves of her flesh. She arched her back to him, leaning her head back, exposing her neck, and his lips were there, brushing against the sensitive pulse point. His breath fluttered against hers, frantic, and she pulled at his robes hungrily, recklessly, yearning for the feeling of his skin against hers. They were close, so close, she could feel him against her, hear his groaning, the pounding of his heart beat, melding with hers, and Force, the man could kiss! His mouth was everywhere, his voice in her ear, the quietest of moans whenever she touched him, and his torso was naked, his skin was soft but he had scars from years of lightsaber combat and she trailed her fingers down the length of one, pale eyes meeting his bright blue ones. He wanted her, she could feel it. His hands explored her, encouraged her, reawakened her. She wanted to tell him he changed her so long ago, and that she still hated him for it, but she wanted him more now, more than the hatred. He opened his mouth to speak…

And Ventress woke up, more than a little peeved at her body's bad timing. She threw her blankets roughly from her, letting the night air cool her perspiring body. Anima, her ship, gave a little shudder beneath her, obviously sensing her master's discomfort. It was nothing. Her ship settled back into sleep.

What was this, this feeling she harbored for her nemesis? Ex nemesis, I suppose. Beyond the basest of lusts, she was certain it was nothing. But those eyes of his! He always made her feel like she was under an x-ray, like he could look right through her. Or, worse yet, right into her. She turned over and rested her head on her folded arms.

It had been a month since Zonama Sekot. Even longer since Boz Pity. For a moment she was blinded by intense rage. Dooku! I'll see him dead if it's the last thing I do! The anger passed and she breathed deeply, willing the Force to bring her calm.

The stars twinkled above her, winking eyes in a mass of black. Ventress rolled over again and gazed at them in wonder. If there was one thing she could do now it was protect those who were too weak to protect themselves. Perhaps through that she would find her answers. She would fulfill the role that the Jedi neglected. She would fight on worlds the Republic had forgotten. She would become a savior, a hero, a champion.

Asajj Ventress drifted off to sleep, the hint of a smile still lingering on her lips.

It wouldn't be long before Obi-Wan learned of the mysterious vigilante being worshipped as a goddess of war…

Many more goodies are yet to come for all interested parties. Like I said, this is just the beginning. But hopefully this has whet more than one appetite for some straight-up Obi-Wan/Ventress action. Despite the chances that this fic takes a turn for the AU, I fit that great bit about Ventress being worshipped here. I couldn't pass up such a great tidbit, really. As always, all reviews welcome.

- Calen