PART V
The oddly beautiful flashes of red and green, and the sudden bloom of orange-yellow, told the tale of battle being fought high up in the air, in the black space just beyond the planet's atmosphere. There was no sound but the gentle breeze and the murmur of the sea, but Obi-Wan could imagine the roar of the fighters, the explosions slicing deep into the steely innards of ships. The heat and the cold. The rush and the quiet. He had experienced it too many times.
Who was fighting up there? What was the cause they laid down their lives for? Were Republic troops battling against the Separatists? Or were they some altogether different forces in some other time? For the past was filled with wars and conflict, and the future would be also – that he had no doubt.
"Who do you think it is?" Anakin asked quietly, never turning his eyes away from the streaks of fire that split the sky.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't know."
"I hope…" Anakin did not finish the sentence, but he didn't really have to; Obi-Wan knew what he meant and hoped himself the same – that it would not be their forces up there in the middle of a heated battle, that no one they knew were fighting for their lives. It was hard enough to stand there on the beach, with no chance to help or to do anything else but watch.
They continued to follow the spectacle in silence, trying to interpret from the direction and frequency of the flashes the story of the engagement. But it was hopeless – battle was chaos, and as they were too far away to even see who was fighting whom, it was impossible to tell what was happening apart from the fact that the fighting seemed to be intensifying.
Inevitably, despite the ongoing battle, Obi-Wan's thoughts turned back to his counterpart in the Tatooine wilderness. Whatever Ben had shown Anakin, it had made the young man believe that they would have an unrecoverable falling out. Deeply disturbed, Obi-Wan felt his resentment for his counterpart grow. What had the old fool been after to disclose something like that? And if it was true, what horrible thing could he have possibly done to make Anakin hate him?
Obi-Wan debated with himself for a moment, but then decided that Anakin had a right to know what he had gotten out of Ben, and most importantly, that the future they had seen could be deciphered in different ways.
"I got the impression…that in Ben's future you are dead. And he was wrecked with guilt and regret because of that." Deliberately, Obi-Wan did not say in their future, for he did not believe that the future was set in stone. Constantly, the future was in motion, shaped by their every action, all that happened around them, the small ripples and the big waves. He had to believe that, or else there would be no point to anything.
"No…" Anakin gave a hollow laugh. "I think that he just wishes I was."
"That's not true." Ben was him, or at least some kind of version of Obi-Wan, therefore the old man could not have ever wished such a thing. That was one thing Obi-Wan was certain of.
Anakin turned his eyes away from the sky, looking beseechingly at Obi-Wan. "Whatever happened to Ben…to them both, whatever broke them…we are not going to let that happen to us. We are not, right?"
"No. We are not," Obi-Wan said with all the conviction he felt. Anakin bestowed on him a small, but true smile; he returned it with his own. They would be alright.
A slight dimming of the light made Obi-Wan return his gaze to the horizon. He blinked in surprise. There was a shadow of a full moon on the clear sky. For a moment, Obi-Wan struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. It was perfectly round, it seemed to be moving, and although to him its size was no bigger than his fist, in reality it had to be enormous…
"Obi-Wan…" Anakin sounded apprehensive, "is that…?"
Filled with terrible foreboding, Obi-Wan could not answer, nor could he take his eyes off the monstrous thing. A deep green flash raced down from the sky, hitting a target out of their sight. He could feel the ground shift; he could hear the planet groan. Obi-Wan shuddered and watched with dread as a bright fireball grew on the horizon, unstoppable. It was like a vivid sunset, but instead of receding it came closer and closer, blotting out the blue sky. A rolling, rushing, gathering wave rode before it, rising, rising –
"Master," Anakin said, and took hold of Obi-Wan's arm, squeezing tight.
Take us away, Obi-Wan thought desperately, now!
The horizon blew up with the brightness of death, and at the last moment he turned to watch Anakin's shocked face, until the white wave drowned them and everything else.
-o-
Light. Blinding, pulsing, pounding. Like a rough ride inside a white wave. Less than -
-o-
Heart hammering wildly, gasping for breath, Anakin startled awake. For an awful moment, there was nothing but the bright, unbearable light, rushing over him, until his eyes registered his new surroundings. It was a dim space of some kind with a hard floor. Cramped, smelling of oil and damp and sweat. He fought his nausea down and pushed himself up until he was on his knees.
Obi-Wan was laying on his side, within arm's reach. Anakin touched his shoulder, but his Master did not stir. Frowning, Anakin shook him harder, to no effect. Although their bond already told Anakin what he would find, he had to make sure: he shuffled closer to the motionless body, mind working overtime to control the panic that was clamouring to take hold of him. Obi-Wan's brow was clammy, his face pale, but to Anakin's utter relief, he was breathing. He hoped that his Master had just simply been knocked unconscious by their less than smooth journey from the beach to wherever they had ended up, but he feared the worst. Things were never so simple with Obi-Wan.
Anakin took a deep breath. Whatever had destroyed so much of that idyllic planet, had not managed to kill them; however, he had no idea where they had ended up, what kind of danger they were now in. Establishing their surroundings should be his first priority. Anakin closed his eyes and reached all around him, and obediently, the Force showed him everything he needed to know. There were numerous living beings clustered tightly around him, packed inside metal and wires, encompassed by nothingness without an end. They were on a vessel that was traveling through space. Anakin could feel the slight vibrations of the engines, could hear the hum of the ship.
"Obi-Wan!" He shook the man's shoulder again. "Master, come on, this is no time to take a nap." Anakin knew Obi-Wan would not thank him for waking him up, but he wanted his Master conscious. He wanted to be certain that Obi-Wan was alright.
Finally, Obi-Wan moaned pitifully and retched a foul-smelling trickle of vomit on the floor. He rolled over on to his back, eyes blinking in the dimness and finally settling on Anakin's anxious face hovering over him.
"Good news: we are not dead," Anakin reported lightly, trying to grin, but judging from Obi-Wan's tightening expression, not really succeeding.
"Yes, I can feel it," his Master muttered, wincing from pain. "Where are we?"
"On a ship, a big one. I think we are either in a very crappy cabin or a storage room." Anakin's worry intensified, when Obi-Wan continued to lay on the floor – usually he would have been trying to get up instantly, no matter if he could actually stand or not.
"We have to get back – the weapon that was fired…" Obi-Wan groaned, voicing the same thought that was troubling Anakin. The weapon's destructive power had been terrible; it could very well wipe out huge areas – whole cities. If it was a Separatist weapon, it could turn the tide of war, destroy the Republic.
"I know." The urgency to act, to somehow trace and face this new threat, was pressing and strong, but as his Master liked to say – repeatedly – they had to focus on the here and now. They could do nothing about the weapon in their current situation, least of all Obi-Wan, who still looked alarmingly like death warmed over. His chest heaved with shallow, halting breaths, and in the dark room his face was unnaturally white, bleached of all colour. Anakin was done ignoring the bantha in the room.
"Master, you're not fine," Anakin stated sternly, fighting a tightening feeling in his throat. He absolutely hated it, when Obi-Wan was sick or injured.
"I don't think time travel agrees with me." Obi-Wan grimaced and with Anakin's help, pushed himself laboriously into a sitting position.
Anakin frowned. "It's not mere airsickness, is it?" He kept his hand reassuringly between his Master's shoulder blades, afraid Obi-Wan would topple over if he let go.
"No, it's not," Obi-Wan admitted begrudgingly. "I don't think the transition through time and space can be made very easily – at least human constitution does not seem to be equipped for it."
"But – I'm fine. I mean, it's no picnic, but…"
"Yes, the transition must be easier the more midi-chlorians one has," Obi-Wan mused, stroking his beard almost absent-mindedly. "It's entirely possible that without a sufficient connection to the Force, one might be torn apart moving between the folds of time and space."
Anakin shuddered, thinking that if Padmé had gotten caught up in their current mess, the blasted holocron would have in all likelihood killed her. The situation was close to disastrous as it was, since Anakin could fill in the blanks of what Obi-Wan had left unsaid. "And each transition is harder, each kriffing move continues to tear you to pieces."
"Well, not to be so dramatic about it, but essentially…yes."
"That's just great!" Anakin grouched, incensed anew by their circumstances. They never could catch a karking break. "We have to do something about it, we have to –"
"There is nothing we can do about it," Obi-Wan said heavily. "As you said yourself, we have to go through the preset jumps. There is no sense troubling ourselves over this – I'll just have to endure it." There was a familiar stubborn gleam in his Master's eyes that comforted Anakin slightly, but the rest of him was still worried, angry and afraid.
"You can rest – I'll go investigate, and you will stay here," Anakin decided, gently guiding Obi-Wan to lean against a spot on the wall that was not covered in questionable cables and wires.
"Surely I can –"
"You cannot," Anakin snapped, pre-emptively countering all of Obi-Wan's mulish objections. Anakin could be pig-headed too – yeah, could he ever – and he would not let his Master traipse all over the unfamiliar ship in his injured state.
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed from irritation, but eventually he sighed and yielded. Apparently, wonders never ceased. "Fine, but Anakin, try to exercise caution. Who knows where and when we are."
Anakin gave Obi-Wan a roguish grin. "Don't worry Master, I'll use nothing but extreme discretion and carefulness."
"Oh, please," Obi-Wan barked, making a show of clutching his stomach. "Don't make me laugh."
"I'll only do as you have taught me, my very wise Master," Anakin smirked.
"I bet," Obi-Wan snorted and swatted Anakin's arm. "Go on, imp."
Anakin clambered to his feet, feeling suddenly much lighter. On his way out, he spotted a small bundle in a corner. Anakin grabbed the dubious looking rag and discreetly mopped the sick from the floor. The smell he could do nothing about, but at least Obi-Wan wouldn't have to stare at the evidence of his own perceived weakness.
"Anakin." Obi-Wan's low voice halted him. "Be careful. I want both of us to get back home."
"I will," he promised solemnly, making another silent vow: Obi-Wan would be alright, and they would find their way back home, together. He would make sure of it.