This idea came to me a few days ago and wouldn't leave me alone. I'm so sorry...

"You have failed me for the last time, child. Now you will die."

Asajj Ventress had never thought she'd feel this way again. A roiling mix of shock, disbelief, anger. But most of all, heartbreak. Her first Master had been stolen from her by a mercenary's blaster bolt and her world had shattered. It had been rebuilt when Dooku had found her and promised her absolution against the Jedi who had left Narec to die. But now he had abandoned her. Now she would die either shot down by Republic clones…or on a Jedi's lightsaber.

She pushed the hatch of her swoop out, smoke-filled air hitting her lungs without notice. The stab of pain across her midsection forced her to crawl from the cockpit, gripping the edge in order to stay on her feet. If she were to die she wouldn't do it on her knees.

"Ventress," a voice said through the haze of her swirling thoughts. Kenobi. "You're not looking well."

"She never does." Skywalker.

Asajj turned her gaze to the Jedi she despised above all others, but her hatred of them was drowned out by her grief at Dooku's betrayal.

"Your forces are retreating, my darling. You would do well to surrender now."

The calm condescension in his voice was the final insult. The shaking started somewhere deep in her chest and spread outwards until her shoulders and hands trembled violently as if in the midst of a seizure. Everything came crashing down around her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

"Anakin, something is definitely wrong with her," she heard Kenobi whisper.

"You're just now figuring that out?"

"He's abandoned me." The words, whispered to no one in particular, were out of her mouth before she realized she'd spoken. Giving voice to her pain made it become a solid thing, a physical weight that settled over her heart and threatened to squeeze the organ until it burst. "Alone…again…"

"What are you blabbering about, Ventress?"

Skywalker's voice, his intense dislike of her poured into his words, snapped her out of her stupor. Turning what would have been a choked sob into a primal scream of rage, Asajj leapt at them both, lightsabers drawn and hungry for blood. She ignored the pain in her abdomen, the blunt force of their kicks, the burning in her lungs as acrid smoke filled them. The pain in her soul was far worse than anything either of them could do to her now.

A well-timed swing of his lightsaber had Asajj on one knee before Skywalker, her weapons flung off into the recesses of the landing bay. Her chest burned with each breath. The will to not shed tears in front of her enemies was only kept strong by her pride. A spasm in her side made her cry out and clutch at the wound. Devastated by her Master's betrayal and in agony from her injury, she could no longer mask the hurt that tore through her body and spirit when she looked up at them. "Finish…it…"

Something in Kenobi's expression changed. One moment his eyes were hardened gemstones, the next they were soft. Her anger spiked when she recognized that look as one of pity.

"Since the lady asked so nicely…"

"Anakin, wait!" Kenobi approached her cautiously, his lightsaber still held out in front of him. "Ventress…Asajj." Her head snapped up at the use of her given name. He'd never called her by it before. "Dooku may have abandoned you," he said gently, deactivating his blade, "but I won't. You still have a chance. Come back with us and I'll personally see to it that you get a fair trial."

"What?! Obi-Wan, are you crazy? She's too dangerous to be left alive."

"Trial," she spat with a harsh, pained laugh, ignoring Skywalker's outburst. What trial? It would be nothing more than an execution. There was no court for the likes of her. Only the grave. She shook her head. "There is nothing…for me now." Summoning the remainder of her strength, the assassin called one of her lightsabers to her hand and lunged. One last attempt to prove herself to a Master who had cast her aside…

Skywalker called out to his Master as he pushed the other man out of the way. Obi-Wan shouted back; perhaps he'd said "no" or "don't", but it didn't matter. Skywalker's blade had already found its mark through her chest.

Everything stopped in that moment for Asajj. Time, thought, even pain. All she was aware of was a scream…but not from her. "Anakin! What have you done?"

Skywalker said something in reply, but she couldn't hear over the proton torpedoes slamming into the side of the ship. Asajj knew she was on her back now, what with the ceiling filling her field of vision, but she wasn't on the floor. Whatever she was on was warm and forgiving, not cold and hard like the floor should have been. More warmth covered one side of her face before she realized where she was: cradled in Kenobi's arms, on one gloved hand on her cheek. Instinct screamed at her to shove him away, but his heat felt too good against the spreading cold.

"Asajj. Asajj," he was saying. He turned her head to meet his eyes. "Look at me, darling. Stay with me."

Were those…tears? Why was he crying? Certainly not for her… "Don't…pity…" she gasped.

"No, no pity, Asajj. Sorrow." She felt his sincerity through the Force, fading as it was. She looked at him in confusion. "You've been alone and lost for so long. I could have helped you. Why couldn't you just come with me? You could have-"

"Obi-Wan," Skywalker interrupted. "The ship is going down. We need to go now."

Kenobi replied without looking away from her. "I won't leave her, Anakin."

"Master!"

"Go," Asajj said weakly. She lifted one trembling hand, which was quickly, tenderly grasped by Kenobi. "Alone…always…even to death…"

The last thing she saw before blackness claimed her was Kenobi's tearful gaze, his head shaking in denial. "No, not in death, my darling." She heard him, but she couldn't move, couldn't speak. The end was close now. Funny how the Force seemed to not want to take her until Kenobi had had his say. "May you finally find the peace you deserve."

Was that a catch in his voice? Was that soft warmth on her forehead…a kiss? What trick was this, mourning her death as if she were a friend instead of a bitter enemy? Oh, what does it matter now? Enjoy your victory, Kenobi. I was my hands of you, of Skywalker, of everything.

Obi-Wan watched helplessly as Asajj Ventress took her final breath and her heartbeat came to a stop. He ignored Anakin's impatient shouts for him to get in his fighter before the ship exploded. He lowered her body to the floor and laid her hands over her abdomen; he hoped it was a respectful thing to do for a Dathomirian. "Be at peace with the Force, my sweet Asajj," he whispered against her still-warm cheek, low enough so Anakin couldn't hear.

With one last sorrowful look at her corpse, her face still set in an expression of unspeakable heartache, Obi-Wan jumped inside his starfighter and streaked from the disintegrating ship at Anakin's wing.

Despite the victory over the Separatists, Obi-Wan remained troubled. Anakin had given the report to the Council while he'd stayed silent. When Anakin had reached the part about Asajj Ventress's death (conveniently leaving out the details of the event), Obi-Wan had felt a wave of relief, even a bit of genuine joy go around the Council chamber. That had bothered him. A lot, actually. But he'd kept his tongue still and only spoke when directly questioned.

That had been hours ago. Now he wandered the halls of the Temple with no destination in mind. So lost in his thoughts, he never even noticed the greetings and congratulations directed his way by passing younglings, Padawans, and other Masters. He simply walked.

He wasn't surprised when he found himself in one of the meditation rooms. He was surprised to see that it was already occupied. "My apologies, Master Ti," he said. His voice sounded rough and strange even to his ears. "I didn't know this room was taken."

"You have been ill at ease since your return to Coruscant, Master Kenobi," the Togruta said calmly, her eyes closed in meditation. "Perhaps you would feel better if you didn't bear your burden alone?"

He swallowed at that word. "I don't wish to disturb you…" A wave of Master Ti's hand brought a raised cushion to his side. He allowed himself a small smile at the gesture. "But if you insist."

Shaak waited for him to settle onto the cushion before opening her eyes to fix him with her penetrating gaze. "It is to do with the death of Asajj Ventress, yes?"

Obi-Wan started. "How did you-"

"You were most…uncomfortable during Skywalker's report to the Council, particularly at the mention of her passing." She saw the tensing of his shoulders but did not point it out. "She was a dangerous adversary for the Jedi. Her death is a blow to Dooku and the Separatists. I would think you'd be pleased."

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh. "You're right, Master Ti. I should be."

"And yet you are not. Why?"

Obi-Wan stared at his crossed legs. "It didn't have to be this way," he whispered. "She didn't have to die."

"Why do you say that, my friend?"

He balled his hands into fists on his knees. He didn't know why his control was slipping now of all times, and it irritated him. "You may think me crazy, but I believe she could have been saved. If we'd found her instead of Dooku all those years ago her fate might have been better. Instead, she was forced to live in constant pain and hate. Instead, she died heartbroken, in excruciating pain, and believing that she deserved to die alone." He went silent for a long while; Shaak said nothing. She let him find his center again on his own. "No one deserves that much suffering."

"Ventress sought to eliminate all Jedi, with a particular inclination towards you, Obi-Wan. And yet you still had hope that she would return to the Light."

He harrumphed in self-deprecation. "A fool's hope, apparently."

"Perhaps not the way I would put it."

"What do you mean?"

"It is never wrong to hope, Obi-Wan," she said gently. "I have never fought against Dooku's assassin myself, but-"

"Dooku abandoned her." The sudden heat in his voice surprised them both into brief silence. "That was why she attacked when she could have fled. She was so despondent by his betrayal that she felt she had nothing else to lose. And that's why Anakin's lightsaber ended up through her chest."

Shaak titled her head at him, the metal strands of her headdress clinking softly together. "Skywalker did not mention this in his report."

"No, he didn't. He also failed to mention that I was trying to save Ventress from herself."

"Anakin was only doing what he thought was right, and that meant protecting you over saving her."

Obi-Wan's head shot up at that. "I knew what she was going to try. I was prepared for her to attack. I could have stopped her and saved all three of us. But he let his emotions get the best of him, as usual-"

"Like you are right now."

He bit off the rest of his rant when he realized what he was saying, what he was feeling. He bowed his head to Shaak in apology. "I-I'm sorry, Master Ti. Forgive my lapse of control."

The Togruta smiled gently at him. "There is nothing to forgive, Obi-Wan. Now, as I was saying earlier, I have never fought Ventress myself, but I understand why you held out hope for her."

"You do?"

"Not all who fall to the Dark Side do so out of desire for power or solely to kill others. Her love for her first Master was so great she could not let him go. And it was that love that clouded her judgement and led her down her Dark path." Obi-Wan shook his head, ready to argue that love in itself was not an open door to the Dark Side, but Shaak raised a hand for silence. "However, you are correct; if the Jedi had discovered her instead of Dooku, perhaps we could have helped ease her pain and inducted her into the Order. Or perhaps our teachings would have fallen on deaf ears and she would still have turned to the Dark."

"I don't believe that."

"What either of us believe now is irrelevant, Master Kenobi. Asajj Ventress is dead, and the tide of war turns in our favor because of it. Do not linger on what could or should have been. She made her choices, and now she is one with the Force." As gracefully as a dancer, Shaak rose from her meditation cushion and curled her fingers around Obi-Wan's hand. "All we can hope for now is that she is finally at peace and free from pain."

Giving him an understanding smile, Shaak left Obi-Wan to mull over her words.

Master Ti was right on all counts, he knew. Asajj had willingly remained connected to the Dark Side of the Force, willingly murdered countless people on Dooku's orders, willingly stayed on the wrong side when she'd had chances to surrender herself.

But those truths did nothing to ease the guilt and the ache in his breast. No one, no mattered how corrupted or seemingly hopeless deserved to die feeling worthless, in despair and…alone. Why did he feel so strongly about her, now of all times? If he'd tried harder to reach that small reserve of good still in her while she was alive, he could have-

NO. I will not think about what-ifs and should-have-beens. Shaak Ti was right: agonizing over the past would do no good. He needed to regain his focus on his mission as a Jedi, on preserving the Republic and the democracy he believed in. He drew himself up straight and prepared for another sleepless night, this time dodging his own traitorous thoughts instead of blaster bolts.

But I wonder...

He didn't know if it would work, but he had to try. He reached deep into the Force, farther than ever before. The pressure inside his skull grew and expanded until he was certain his head would explode from the effort. But he kept going. Just a little more…

Obi-Wan came back to himself with a loud gasp. He struggled to catch his breath in the darkness, to dull the headache that was currently making his head pound. When he lifted his head, a smile had blossomed on his face.

He'd felt her. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but he was certain: Asajj's spirit was finally content within the Force. After a lifetime of endless pain and suffering, she was finally at peace. Straightening once again, this time with renewed vigor, Obi-Wan set about releasing his emotions. All of his guilt, his frustration, and his sadness flowed through and out of him until there was only a steady peace thrumming in his heart.