AN: Alright, this was going to go up last night but...it got long. Like, way longer than intended, but I think it's better for it. Again, this one covers the events of an entire book, that book being Tarkin. If you haven't read it, uh...why the hell are you still here? Go read it! Tarkin's a monster and I love it. After this chapter, things are going to start rolling pretty quickly. Another one-shot tomorrow, probably. I don't think I can get the next chapter of this one done in just a few hours. Alright, enough talk, let's go! Enjoy, my lovelies!
Chapter 6: The Carrion Spike - 13 BBY
Imperial security had tightened considerably in the months following the insurgency on Ryloth. Tarkin had initially thought it was simply an added precaution, a response to the stunning efficiency of what should have been an impotent resistance movement. A Star Destroyer exploded, killing thousands of Imperial soldiers in the process and endangering the lives of not just the Senator from Ryloth, the corpulent Orn Free Taa, but the lives of the Emperor and his two...special projects. It was enough for any regime to tighten security, and Tarkin knew very well from his service in the Republic that when things went wrong with ships of that size, everyone took note. Every ship the Negotiator stole from them made the Republic seem weak, incapable of defending what was theirs, a blow that cut much deeper than simply the loss of a ship. Kenobi understood psychological warfare, and he waged it expertly.
Only the Ryloth disaster was not Kenobi's doing, so far as anyone could tell, though the sudden increase in security was. The Emperor was, in short, paranoid, because in his absence, the Imperial Palace had been broken into, and things had been stolen. What those things were, Tarkin didn't know, but it had Palpatine in such a rage that the man had tightened his hold on everything in an attempt to retrieve what he had lost. Members of the Imperial Security Bureau were dispatched in force not just to quell any rebellious sentiment that may have arisen due to the mess on Ryloth, but to see if they couldn't finally root out Kenobi, but without a pattern to his continuous attacks of mild annoyances, the man remained a shadow, a presence seen and keenly felt, but not one they could grasp.
But what directly concerned Tarkin was Palpatine's demand that his secret project be completed faster, and as soon as the Western Reaches were secure, Tarkin was transferred to Sentinel Base out in the Outer Rim's Arkanis sector. It was a move that many in the Empire saw as a demotion, a way for Palpatine to distance himself from Tarkin after a brutal and wildly unpopular, though effective, campaign to quell the Western Reaches. Tarkin never cared much for gossip. He understood the importance of the move, the necessity to place him so far out of reach in order to keep a close eye on the development of Palpatine's mobile battle station, the first of its kind, more powerful than any weapon the galaxy had ever seen.
The project had been troubled from the start. The mobile battle station was an idea that originated during the Clone Wars, though it was one that Tarkin was not a part of, due to his presence in the field serving beside Anakin Skywalker. The idea had been originally proposed by the Geonosians, but it was rejected by Count Dooku himself, because at the time, he had been dealing with his own world destroying weapon in the form of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the seething personification of hate that saw planets burn and worlds slaughtered. Eventually, the Republic took up the project under the watchful eyes of Orson Krennic, and that's where the trouble began.
Tarkin tried not to delve too deeply into Krennic's background. On its best day, it was messy and disorganized, marked by ambition far too great and failures due to reaching beyond his grasp. Betrayals, sabotage and failure marked the construction of the secret station, delaying its projected completion by several years. Even now, with resources pouring in from across the galaxy to construct its various pieces in factories spread across several different systems, the building was painfully slow. But with the Emperor's sudden need to tighten his grasp, Tarkin was put in charge of the project, tasked with overseeing its construction from remote Sentinel Base. The work wasn't exciting, but it was important.
Until Sentinel Base was attacked. Everything changed after that.
It was a clever ploy, one that had utilized a tactic of diversion meant to draw Imperial forces away from the base, but Tarkin had seen through it, had recognized the falsification in the request he had received for aid from a nearby base that was supposedly under attack. But the attack had seemed real, and the report received broadcast that attack live as it was happening, a thing that had fooled most of the officers on the base, but to Tarkin, who had fought the Separatists during their infiltration of the Republic's holonet, was able to detect the slight trace of a relay station that had been hijacked. The attack was a fabrication, created by a party that had hacked into the nearby communications relay, and in recognizing the danger, Tarkin kept his troops close, and thwarted an assault on Sentinel Base itself.
To put it mildly, Emperor Palpatine freaked out and Tarkin was summoned to Coruscant before the Moff had even sent the report. In light of the rebellion on Ryloth the previous year, the entire Empire was on edge, and when it came to maintaining the secrecy of the battle station, the Emperor was taking no chances. Palpatine had sent Vader with Tarkin aboard his personal ship, the recently completed stealth corvette, the Carrion Spike, a feat of engineering to rival Obi-Wan's Umbra, to investigate the attacks, which led them to the planet from where the Separatist Shadowfeed was originally established: Murkhana.
The planet was a mess, dirty and desolate, like so many Separatist worlds were rendered after that war, and though there was an Imperial compound located in the city, it didn't appear to be doing its job. The run-down houses that lined the thin, narrow streets were covered in anti-Imperial graffiti, and when they met with the officers stationed there, they had the feel of a group that was past the point of caring. It was a disgrace to the Empire that the troops stationed here hadn't made an example of the locals to quell this sort of sentiment. No wonder the mysterious rebels they faced were able to access the remnants of the Shadowfeed. Controlling the Outer Rim, it seemed, was a greater task than previously imagined.
"The state of this place is reprehensible," Tarkin growled to the officer at his side, a woman that looked both cowed and frustrated. "What is the point of maintaining an Imperial presence here at all if you are going to allow the locals to shame us."
"Sir, we have tried," said the exasperated officer, slowly leading the Moff and his intimidating, silent companion through the streets to the warehouse where the cache of communications equipment had been discovered. "I have requested more troops to help secure the city, but I have been denied every time. We try to clean this up," she gestured at the graffiti upon the walls, "but the next day, it is just back again. There's only so much I can do!"
"Have you tried executing people?" Tarkin sneered, and the officer beside him blanched. This one would never make it anywhere. "When my mission is complete, I'll return to show you how it's done."
"We should put this place out of its misery," Vader growled beside him, the first words he had said since they had landed upon the dying world, and the officer shivered.
"That seems almost too kind," Tarkin sniffled. "I would rather make an example of them, though it may very well come to that, yes." Tarkin turned again to the officer when they passed by an Imperial shipyard, the carriers stationed there in a state of disrepair that made it look as though any passengers aboard may be forced to carry it instead. "Explain the sorry state of this."
"Sabotage, sir. We aren't well liked by the locals."
"Nobody asked them to like you!" Vader snarled. He had enough of the incompetence here, and he turned quickly when a piece of scrap metal struck the crumbling stone wall of a building beside them. In an open hovel opposite the way stood a woman, hands defiantly on her hips as she looked at the Imperial troops, challenging them to respond to the scrap she had thrown at them, and the stormtroopers that accompanied them raised their weapons. Tarkin just rolled his eyes. The chastisement had not been intended to make them raise their weapons now that it was too late, it had been meant as a comment on their terrible performance up until now.
"Permission to execute?" one of the troopers asked.
"We came here to investigate, not start a riot," Tarkin quickly snapped when Vader laid his hand on his lightsaber, the woman scampering off at the first sign of something she didn't understand. "Mark my word, we will be returning here at the completion of our investigation to deal with the sorry state of this place." The officer beside him paled, understanding that he meant not just the upstart locals, but the Imperials that had failed here as well.
"The warehouse is just up ahead," the officer said, tense and nervous and trying to divert attention away from the failure on display to the success of locating the communications cache.
They walked in silence the rest of the way, the whistling of the wind through the narrow streets nearly drowning out the sound of the stormtrooper's armored boots on the rough, cracked pavement and the sound of Vader's pendulous breathing. They slowed considerably when the warehouse came into view, a towering structure that seemed as though it was made to house and build large, secret projects, a remnant of the war from when the Confederacy and their corporate allies did everything they could to keep their military secrets away from the eyes of Republic spies. Walking toward the front doors to the building, Tarkin was stopped when Vader's arm shot out to block his path, the Sith Lord tense and alert. Tarkin knew better than to ignore the instincts of one with the Force.
"Is something here?" he asked softly, but Vader didn't move."
"...perhaps," the Sith said thoughtfully, as if still trying to decipher the meaning of what it was he was sensing. Tarkin didn't want to say what he knew they were both thinking for fear that it may make it true. Use of the Shadowfeed to attempt to lure ships away from Sentinel Base was exceedingly clever, and it seemed to suggest that Obi-Wan Kenobi may be involved. The subsequent actual attack, however, had been clumsy and ill-prepared, something that the Sith Lord would never have allowed. The rebels were forced to be clever in order to survive against the iron grip of the Empire, yes, but was Kenobi not a rebel himself? His involvement in this attack seemed just as likely as his absence. They would find out soon enough.
"He's not here, Governor Tarkin," Vader said quietly, as if sensing the man's concerns, and Tarkin stiffened, his back straight and rigid.
"In the past, you have been unable to sense him," Tarkin said, stepping closer to the Sith as if that would somehow be safer, and he hated himself for it. It felt like weakness. "How can you be certain?" His companion was silent for a long moment, his even breathing slow and thoughtful.
"This is true," Vader said slowly. "Before, I was not in tune with the darker tides of the Force. Perhaps I would still be unable to. Perhaps he is just...a shadow. But even a shadow changes the way things are perceived." Tarkin frowned. He never understood the ways of the Force, nor did he wish to. It was intangible, and without the ability to feel it, it would forever remain a mystery. It was a dying thing anyway. Without the Jedi, there were very few left who understood the ways of the Force, and Tarkin put no stock in things that were dying.
"He is not here," Vader said again, this time with confidence. "This is a trap."
Tarkin hissed in irritation as he surveyed the building before them. There was always the possibility that this was a trap. The communications cache had been a fortuitous find, one that had been well-timed and was extremely convenient. But, as the Emperor had said, sometimes, one must knowingly walk into a trap to learn who had set it. Tarkin wasn't a fan of walking into traps without a plan first, and without a clear motive for the attackers on Sentinel Base, it was difficult to bait their own trap. If this was a trap as Vader suspected, Tarkin wouldn't be walking into it. There would be more on the way. This investigation was far from over.
"Send for probe droids," Tarkin said after a moment's consideration. "All you have in the arsenal, if you have any. And you," he said, pointing to one of his own men that he had brought with him off the Carrion Spike, "you are to return to the ship and retrieve the probe droids I have stored in the hold. There should be six. Bring them all." The soldier saluted, and quickly ran off to do as he was ordered. "The rest of you," he said, turning to the stormtroopers, "I want this place surveyed. Take note of every entrance, every design flaw, every window, every mark that seems out of place. Everything. Scout the roof as well, buildings this large were often used to build huge machines and weapons, and they usually had roof access for swift and secret transport."
The stormtroopers scattered, quickly scrambling to do as they were bid. They may have been incompetent in the management of Murkhana's defiant population, but Tarkin attributed that to a fault in the command. Under the right supervision, these soldiers would do exactly as they were bid. The only thing to do now was wait. Waiting was easy enough. Tarkin was a patient man. Even Vader at his side seemed resolved to wait, though he was a far deal more tense, his arms crossed tightly, his breathing almost a deep, persistent growl, as it always was when he felt something he could not place. Tarkin decided to ignore him. Keeping eyes on Vader was only making him tense and irritated as well. He turned his gaze out toward the town, and thought about what lay just beyond it.
The Carrion Spike. A ship partially of his own design, one he had collaborated on with the company that had built her, the corvette was a marvel of engineering, one of the fastest, most advanced ships in the Imperial Navy, and came equipt with a stealth drive to rival the one that Kenobi had equipt on the Umbra. At one hundred and fifty meters in length, the Carrion Spike was a fair deal bigger than the Umbra, and much more heavily armed. And she was fast, easily faster than any ship of her size that the Empire possessed. She was a personal achievement for Tarkin, one of his few possessions that he took pride in, and it gave him the unique advantage of being able to hide in plain sight, a dangerous thing in the hands of a hunter, an advantage that Kenobi had over them for years, but now, that was at an end.
The officer returned with the activated probe droids following closely behind, and with the warehouse in sight, the droids floated quickly toward it, immediately setting to scanning the warehouse for anything even remotely suspicious. One began to beep incessantly, which drew the attention of the other droids to it, and moments later, the technicians were interpreting the readouts, observing what the droids had identified as a triggering device upon one of the doors within. Vader's hunch had been correct. This was a trap, and were they careless, they would have been caught in an explosion and killed.
The commotion brought about by discovering a bomb and the subsequent planning to disable it and save the potentially incriminating information cache was almost enough for Tarkin to not notice the soft roar of a ship's engines, the high-pitched whine as the thrusters were engaged, and the moment he realized where it was coming from, dread gripped the Moff. The building wasn't the trap. Just being there was. Without a word to anyone, Tarkin turned and ran back into the town and through the cramped and dirty streets, Vader on his heels a moment later, flying past the smaller shipyard that could be seen through the dilapidated building and toward the much larger landing pad just outside town where the Carrion Spike had set down.
They arrived just in time to see elongated, arrow-shaped ship growing smaller and smaller in the sky as it quickly approached the atmosphere. On the landing pad, the Imperial crew that had manned the ship were in varying stages of undress and engaging in...acts with each other, debauched and wanton in pairs or in groups, regardless of gender, of three, four, or more, in one case. They seemed to have no awareness as to where they were, no recognition that their Moff and Darth Vader just ran up and were looking upon them with a mix of horror and disgust and rage. Absolutely oblivious that they were standing outside, completely exposed to anyone who cared to look at Imperial soldiers and officers on the tarmac rutting like animals. If he wasn't going to destroy Murkhana before, Tarkin certainly was going to now. This humiliation couldn't be seen by anyone.
But the thing that made Vader the most angry, the thing that caused the Sith Lord to positively scream with rage was the large, black sphere that sat where the Carrion Spike had been parked not five minutes before. His pressurized chamber. A meditation chamber of sorts, Tarkin was given to understand, one that allowed the Sith Lord to escape the confines of his suit for at least a little while. And on its jet black, flawless surface was a square of white, a glaring flaw that stained the otherwise midnight perfection. They slowly approached, cautious and uncertain as if the entire thing were rigged to explode, and when they were close enough to touch it, Vader reached out and took the page off the sphere.
My dearest Wilhuff, the note said in an elegant scrawl, I thank you so very much for the gift to celebrate this momentous occasion. Six years of Imperial rule already! I have a gift for you as well, though mine is not nearly so elaborate, I think you will find it just as useful. I would have brought your crew with me, but...they had in mind other ways of celebrating. Happy Empire Day, my friend! I'll be seeing you very soon.
"Governor!" Tarkin and Vader both slowly turned to look at the origin of the voice, both men shaking in rage as they looked upon the officer that Tarkin had sent to retrieve the droids from his now absent ship. In his hands, he held a small package, which he held out to the pair, and Tarkin looked suspicious and disbelieving into the officer's blank, hazy eyes. He slowly opened the package and took out a datapad, the gift from his ship thief, and turned it on. There, on the front screen, in full color display, was the galaxy's most complete collection of Gungan pornography.
"He said he knows what you like, sir," the officer said in a thick, slurred voice, and without a second thought, Tarkin drew his blaster and shot the officer in the head, his eyes trained up into the sky where his ship had been not long before. He was stranded on Murkhana, no ship on the planet even close to fast enough to catch the Carrion Spike. Like so many others, as seemed to be in the man's nature, his ship, his pride and joy, had been stolen by Obi-Wan Kenobi.
As the lines of hyperspace filled the viewport, the ship hardly jolting at all as it made the jump, Obi-Wan leaned back in the pilot's seat, his hands behind his head and his feet upon the command console of the Carrion Spike. It was a lovely ship, a custom corvette that was made for purpose over pleasure, utility over luxury, just like the man it was built for. That didn't keep it from being sleek in design, elegant in its simplicity, marvelous in its power. He lazily ran his hand over one of the screens before him, examining the ship's specifications with an admiring eye. She was more powerful than the Umbra, much more powerful, equipt with an arsenal of a much larger ship, but with the speed of a smaller one. True, she wasn't as fast as his own ship, but with power like this, the Carrion Spike would have very little it would actually need to run from.
"When are we going to attack?" said a man behind him, and Kenobi rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of his furious pacing, a nervous habit of his, his companions had said. After the mess on Ryloth, Kenobi had decided to take a more active hand in what he saw as valuable assets, not helping them in attacks of their own, but by intercepting them and turning their anger to greater, smarter purpose. That he hadn't heard from Cham Syndulla was expected, but it made him bitter none the less. There were lots of people in the Free Ryloth movement, and now, the dead movement had lots of dead members. Kenobi wasn't sure if Cham had lived, and quite frankly, he didn't care. He was too short-sighted, too reckless, too impulsive, too...violent for these early stages of rebellion.
Just like Berch Teller was proving to be.
This particular group had been brought to his attention by Bail Organa himself, and he was doing this as a personal favor for Alderaan's Prince, mostly because their plans intersected with his own on several points. He had his eye on the Carrion Spike since he had learned about its creation from the Imperial database on Ryloth, and this particular rebel cell had their eyes on Tarkin since the Antar Atrocity a few years back. Since the Carrion Spike was Tarkin's ship, a vessel of great strength and, by extension, great pride, their interests intersected, even if the motivation was different. Berch Teller had wanted to steal the ship to attack Imperial targets, to turn Tarkin's personal pride into his personal shame, the ship of the Moff to be remembered as a weapon against the Empire instead of one for it. Kenobi just loved a good ship.
These rebels had all been involved on Antar during the Clone Wars, and several had been present when Tarkin had incited the mass arrest and execution against the population. For Bail Organa, these people had been ideal for his rebellion. Skilled people, people who had fought in the Clone Wars, people with personal grudges against Palpatine's tyrannical regime and who had the strength to fight back. For Kenobi, however, only one of these people held any interest to him, and it had been why he had ultimately decided to take these people along and show them how to capture a ship the right way.
Her name was Anora Fair, and she was a journalist, and those that had the courage to put their names to anti-Imperial editorials as she had done were exceedingly rare. The woman had contacts, silent supporters of hers that made sure her work was seen on the holonet, made certain that what she had to say got out, and that alone was enough to warrant interest. It was her that Kenobi had contacted, and he had promised her a story, one far, far more damaging than anything her group could accomplish through violence. Something that could, in no way, ever be turned to the Empire's favor, could ever be spun to make the Imperials look like the good guys, and with the promise of a good story too good to pass up, Anora had convinced the others in her rebel cell to join forces with the Separatist Negotiator to accomplish their goals.
Teller didn't like it, but Obi-Wan had dismissed Teller as an ass, and his opinion didn't matter.
"We aren't going to attack," Obi-Wan said softly when Teller had asked the question again, this time louder, slower, as if Kenobi hadn't heard him before. "There is no benefit in attacking the Empire."
"No benefit?" Teller growled, grabbing the back of the pilot's seat and spinning it around to face him, Kenobi's feel slipping off the console that served as his foot rest. He wasn't pleased. "No benefit!" Berch repeated. "The destruction of Imperial property, damaging the Empire!" Kenobi laughed, loud and harsh, leaving no room to doubt what he thought of that idea.
"Damage the Empire. You think you can damage the Empire? No single ship can deal damage to them. The destruction of a few bases means nothing to them. All you will succeed in doing is getting yourselves captured and killed, and it will just be another example for people to see why they shouldn't oppose Palpatine." Teller's jaw clenched tightly shut, his eyes narrowed in anger, and Obi-Wan felt...frustration from him. He knew Kenobi was right, and he hated it. "Besides, it's Empire Day, and I have a birthday party to get to."
Teller started to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut, not to restrain himself, but to organize his racing thoughts. He brought a finger to his temple and rubbed, groaning softly as Kenobi began to sift through his mind. He didn't like Berch Teller. He didn't like Berch Teller for the same reason he didn't like Cham Syndulla. They were both leaders, both products of war that took action against what they saw as injustice. This was a great thing to have in a rebellion leader...but not now. In a few years, perhaps, but now, the rebellion needed people that understood that change doesn't happen with a single act. That words and ideas were more powerful than actions and harder to fight against. He needed the Anora Fair's of the galaxy, not the Berch Teller's. It may pay off to have the man killed before he destroyed something.
"You steal," Teller began, "one of the most dangerous ships in the galaxy, and you aren't going to be attacking Imperial targets?" His face reddened. "What are you planning to do with it!?"
"I don't know..." Obi-Wan mused. "I haven't decided yet. It is rather high-profile, isn't it? Keeping it is out of the question, not when Tarkin will be hunting for it. Eventually, that man finds what he's looking for..."
"You don't have a plan?!" Teller cried. "Steal a ship, that was your plan? Then what! We had a plan! We had a list of targets we were going to hit! Why are we even following you?!"
"Hey, Anora?" Obi-Wan asked, craning his neck to see over Teller's shoulder to the dark skinned woman sitting at the communication's console. "How's your report going?" She leaned back to look at him and grinned.
"Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader Oversee Imperial Orgy," she read from her display, pulling up the holographic display and projecting it in the center of the aisle between her station and the pilot's seat. "And the good people of Murkhana are posting their own recordings of this. In ten minutes, the entire galaxy is going to have the file on their datapads." The woman's smile brightened and she batted long lashes at him. "We were right to trust you. This is perfect, dear, thank you."
Kenobi could almost hear Cody scoff, even though the clone wasn't on the ship. He was waiting at their first rendevous point in the Umbra, a task that Kenobi would entrust to nobody else. Ever. A small, cocky smile spread across his lips. Anora was flirting, not an uncommon thing for Kenobi to experience, but it was something he usually ignored. On a normal day, Obi-Wan would celebrate a successful ship-jacking and some Imperial shaming by reciprocating and bending her over the control console, but today, he needed to focus. Today, his precious kids were turning six. He could feel his chest swelling with pride. They were growing so fast, becoming so strong! Soon enough, he would be giving them their first set of Mandalorian armor and taking them with him on smaller, safer missions, showing them the galaxy that he was working to save.
This year, they were getting their first lightsabers. Not anything more than simple training blades, something that Jedi Yoda had helped him craft. Rancor Yoda helped as well. They sat on him while they made them. They weren't much, but it was a big step for the twins. One day, they may come to make their own real weapons, just as Obi-Wan had done. Ilum had been ravaged by the Empire, yes, but it wasn't the only place where kyber crystals grew. Worst came to worst, he could always kill an Inquisitor or two. It was how Ahsoka got her new crystals to power her new white blades.
Kenobi pointed toward the holographic image. "That is why you're following me. I'm not an idiot. You don't do damage to the Empire by destroying their things, that's the work of a petulant child. You do damage by ruining their ability to cause fear. Fear is their weapon, not ships or armies or military stations. Fear."
Teller growled. "If we attacked-"
"Have you met Cham Syndulla?" Obi-Wan asked, sighing heavily and looking bored. "Lovely fellow, had a rebel cell. All dead." He paused to meet Berch's eyes. "All of them. Because he was an idiot. Because he didn't listen to me. Sure, he might be alive somewhere, but he isn't fighting. He can't. He took down a Star Destroyer, and not just any one, Vader's personal flagship. And you know who talks about them now, a year later?" Teller didn't answer. He didn't need to. Nobody talked about it. Behind him, he could feel the members of his crew shift uncomfortably. Kenobi was winning them to his side.
"We have no reason to even trust you," Teller growled, trying to be dominating and commanding, and while he could feel his men sway back toward him, Kenobi just looked...amused. Like a father watching a child struggle with a new, unfamiliar task. "All of us know each other from Antar, all of us fought for the Republic during the war." He pointed an accusing finger at the bemused Kenobi. "You weren't just a Separatist, you were their leader."
"For a time, yes," Obi-Wan said, indifferent, and his calm seemed to smooth the edge of the crew that Teller had just sharpened.
"You are responsible for atrocities on Antar at the start of the war!" Teller snarled. "You are just as guilty as Tarkin!" Obi-Wan laughed.
"Boy, I have been accused of a lot of things because I have done a lot of things. The crushing victory on Umbara. The burning of Ord Mantel. The slaughter of Oba Diah, all these are things I've done." He could see the people draw back, some of them paling, one of them covering her mouth in horror, another retching, violent, savage moments that stood out in a violent, savage war. Even Teller looked horrified. "But I have never been accused of crimes against Antar. That, my friend, was the Jedi."
"Y-you're a monster anyway!" Teller snarled, and Kenobi just smiled at him. "We have no business following you. This was our plan to begin with, and now that you've done what you said, you best get out of the way. There are six of us and only one of you, so move before you get hurt." Kenobi didn't move. But Teller did. Eyes bulging and hands flying to his neck as he suddenly choked, Teller was lifted off the ground, his legs kicking frantically and the toes of his boot scraping against the ground.
"...sorry, are we trying to be intimidating?" Obi-Wan asked sweetly after a long silence, the ship reverting to sublight near a remote world deep in Hutt Space, far, far from the reach of the Empire. After a moment, the scanners picked up the Umbra and without looking, Kenobi tapped in the access codes to allow his ship to dock with the stolen corvette. "Clearly, you have done your research on me," he said softly, his fingers gently waving in the air, and Teller was dropped hard to his knees before the Sith Lord. "You must have heard I'm Force sensitive, though I imagine that anything else you've heard is a great deal of rumor and speculation."
The doors to the cockpit slid open, but nobody turned to look at the newcomer. There were staring transfixed, terrified of the dangerous man in their presence. "You started the party without me?" Cody asked, mildly offended as he pushed past the scared people and threw himself into the copilot's seat.
"The party never starts without you, lover," Kenobi drawled, and the clone leaned back, a broad grin on his face. "Do we have time?"
"Yeah, we've got time." Kenobi nodded swiftly and released Teller from his grasp, the man gasping for air between pained coughing.
"I've done my research too," Obi-Wan drawled. "On all of you." He pointed to each of the rebels in turn, each one paling as he did. "A captain in Republic Intelligence. A pilot. A smuggler. An operations specialist. An engineer. A reporter. And a holonet specialist." Kenobi grinned. "Each and every one of you working to take vengeance against Moff Wilhuff Tarkin for the Antar Atrocity." He clicked his tongue as if he were scolding them. "So small minded, so short sighted. A group with such talent deserves better, which is where I come in. See, a friend of mine got wind of your little plan and passed the information on to me. We have a need of talented people."
"And you want us?" Anora asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. This man had helped, after all, had given them exactly what he had promised and more. At the very least, he was worth listening to.
Kenobi didn't answer for a moment as he looked around the room. "...yes," he finally said, "I think some of you, under the right leadership, have what we are looking for." He left out the part about their little rebel leader not being involved in those plans. He was too angry, too obsessed, and it was making him short-sighted. Teller would go after Tarkin directly, he had no doubt of that, and Teller would die. There was no other outcome. Were he to join, he would be a threat to the secrecy of Bail's organization, and were Organa to be exposed by someone so reckless, Leia would be in danger. If Teller capitulated now, Kenobi would have to hill him himself.
"There are other rebels?" another, a Mon Calamari asked.
"Yes. Lots, all angry, just like you, all willing to put aside their individual vendettas to have the chance of dealing with the root of the problem. I was ultimately sent to keep you guys anonymous in the theft of the Carrion Spike. Stealing ships is sort of what I do, and knowing I'm involved means that Tarkin and Vader stop looking for people involved. I'm just about all they can take." Obi-Wan smiled softly as the group laughed, nervous at first, but quickly relaxing.
"Tarkin would have eventually figured out who you were, and he would have rooted out everyone involved with your little group and you all would have been killed," Cody drawled, yawning as he turned to look at the ship's controls.
"Now!" Kenobi said, clapping his hands together. "My people have been able to trace you to a Vice Admiral in the Imperial Navy, Dodd Rancit, and since your involvement in this is secret, so is his." He flashed them a grin. "He's just using you, of course, to advance his own position, betraying you all was part of the plan." Jaws dropped, they all began asking how it was he came to know any of this, but Kenobi held up a hand and they fell silent. "As I said, I did my research, and my people are very good. Time, Cody?"
The clone shrugged. "We've got time."
"One attack," he said, leaning forward in his seat. "The Carrion Spike has one attack run in her, and after that, I'm crashing her on the nearest planet."
"We can do more than that!" Teller snarled, and both Cody and Kenobi rolled their eyes.
"No, we can't," Obi-Wan said, his tone leaving no room for argument, though the obstinate Teller looked as though he wished to argue. "I've selected a target that will do actual damage to the Empire. It's nothing that you will see on the holonet, nothing so impressive as a military base or a production factory, but I'm not looking to be a resistance symbol, I'm looking to piss off Palpatine." He paused. "Also, I have a birthday party to get to, so..."
"You would deny our targets, our revenge for Antar," Teller said, teeth grit, "so you can get to a birthday party?!"
"Princess, I would murder you all right now if keeping you alive would keep me from getting there!" Obi-Wan said, strong and forceful, and they laughed for a moment until they realized that he was serious. "My proposal," the Sith said after a moment, "is you abandon your course and come fight for something greater. When we're done with the Carrion Spike, you all get on my ship, and I take you to meet my friend, you forget about the revenge business and leave Tarkin alone. Lend your talents to an actual rebellion."
"Are you trying to recruit my people?" Teller hissed, but Kenobi just smiled at him.
"I think I already have." Teller looked back to see the others talking quietly among themselves, and he hung his head, defeated, but resolved to see his own course through. He didn't need the others, he just needed a clear shot at Tarkin, and one way or another, he would get it.
Obi-Wan had to remind himself several times that he was doing this for Prince Bail Organa, the man that was helping to raise dear, sweet Leia. The man that was helping to build a rebellion that would topple an Empire. The man that, given the opportunity, would probably kill him. Bail wanted these people for his cause, and admittedly, the reporter was a very good find on Ahsoka's part, but it was Kenobi's inclination to let them die pointlessly against Tarkin. The Moff needed to keep his edges sharp, after all, and that edge was made fine and dangerous with blood. Sure, he had plenty on his hands, but Obi-Wan imagined that the blood of symbols of a bold resistance somehow tasted sweeter. As the Sith always said, if there was a tool to be used, it would be a waste not to use it. Cham had been a waste. This group would not be.
Except for Teller. Teller needed to die.
The Carrion Spike arrived out of hyperspace in the Arkanis sector, the place where this whole mess began with the attack on Sentinel Base. That wasn't the destination, though. Their target were the convoys that were headed to Geonosis. Obi-Wan had tried once to get to Geonosis after he had been made aware that something was happening there, though what that something was, he didn't know. Nobody seemed to know. All he knew was that the planet was heavily guarded, far too much to even risk going there in the cloaked protection of the Umbra. But the convoys, the ones carrying shipment after shipment to Geonosis, weren't nearly so protected.
As he cut the Carrion Spike through the convoy, the fast ship powerful and responsive beneath his hands, he opened fire with turbolasers and ion cannons, tearing through the helpless convoys like they were nothing, coming out of stealth to destroy the ships that protected the cargo before he turned his attentions to the transport ships as they attempted to flee. The slow, heavy-laden cargo ships were no match for Kenobi's expert piloting, and when he had run down the long line, unloading the ship's powerful armaments upon the frantic, scattering convoy and destroyed all in sight, he engaged the stealth systems and headed for the next supply line he had scouted in the months before.
Whatever it was they were building, it was big, and though Obi-Wan had no idea what it was that was in the convoys he was destroying, the supply lines didn't constantly run. They were on a schedule, delivering things as needed or as completed at other building locations, which meant by the time the convoys made it to Geonosis, they were carrying the sum of possible months worth of work and labor, which could delay this secret project for a very long time. Sidious wouldn't be so careless in the future, so he needed to make the most of it now when he had the benefit of two stealth ships to work with.
On their third supply line, Obi-Wan thought he heard...something. Something in the Force, something once melodic and sweet now dissonant and sour, a sound that almost made him cringe as he leaned over and opened the communication channel between the Carrion Spike and the Umbra. "Cody," he said softly, eyes fixed out the forward viewport as he destroyed the last of the convoy's guard, a compliment much greater with heavier firepower when compared to the others. "See if you can't grab the cargo off one of those ships. I'll cover you."
Cody whistled. "That could take some time."
"So turn on the stealth and get to work. I'll destroy the rest of the convoy after you pick a target." Obi-Wan paused. "Why? Do we have time?"
"Yeah, we got time," Cody drawled, clearly amused. "I'll get your cargo, boss." With a grin, Obi-Wan banked the Carrion Spike hard to port, rolling the ship to make the turn as tight as he could, and he pushed the accelerator forward, diving beneath the ships as they scattered and pulling up on the yoke hard, the ion cannons firing at the undefended ships from below. Their attacks had been going quickly and much more smoothly than he anticipated. For such a supposedly important, secret project, the Imperials were shockingly ill-prepared to deal with an attack by a ship as powerful as the Carrion Spike, and they were proving to be slow to respond to the threat. That's what they got for setting up base in a remote Outer Rim system, though Kenobi suspected that they wouldn't be this easy to attack again.
"This isn't the sort of material you want," Obi-Wan quietly explained to Anora, the woman sitting strapped in to the seat just behind him. "This is the sort of stuff that the Empire can turn into pro-Imperial propaganda."
"Because Imperials are killed?" she asked, her attention rapt as she watched him expertly fly around the convoy, destroying every ship that crossed his sights and avoiding the debris field that was steadily growing.
"Among other things. Billions of credits essentially burned in attacks that destroy expensive equipment, innocent people killed in collateral damage, basically anything where lives are lost, they can twist to their advantage to make you look like the monsters." Obi-Wan looked back at her and grinned. "Nothing beats a good scandal, though."
"I think I can manage to report on that sort of thing," Anora said with a sly grin.
"I'll be happy to provide the material." Before he saw anything, Obi-Wan felt it and pulled the yoke sideways, sending the Carrion Spike careening into a sudden spin and sending anyone not strapped in flying across the halls and striking walls as they tumbled. With a curse, Kenobi righted himself just in time to see a Star Destroyer revert to real space right before them, and immediately, he could feel the shifting in the Force, the sudden disturbance that could only be cause by another of his kind. Vader was on that ship. "Hey, Cody?" Kenobi said into the open com. "I think we're out of time."
"I think you might be right," the clone mumbled. "I have your cargo, what's the plan?"
"Jump the system," he said without delay, entering in his own jump coordinates and frowning when he saw the ship needed three minutes to calculate. They had taken some minor damage in a fight with a heavy cruiser when they attacked the second supply line. The damage wasn't severe, but it was apparently enough to make the ship complain. "As soon as I have a plan, I'll contact you and we'll meet at the final target so we can dock and get everyone on the Umbra."
"Understood," Cody said quickly, and the com was disengaged as the stealth ship made the jump out of the system. With a few taps on the control console, Obi-Wan primed the stealth systems, and the com channel began to beep furiously as Imperial codes overrode the restrictions, and a moment later, the Carrion Spike was patched through to the Star Destroyer, and the cockpit filled with the sound of Darth Vader's heavy breathing.
Kenobi put his finger to his lips as he tried to repress a grin, calling for the silence of the others, and they quickly obeyed. "Why, hello, sweetie!" Obi-Wan chirped, his smile growing wider when he heard a low, menacing growl underneath the regulated breathing. "Did you miss me?"
"It's over, Lumis," Vader said, voice heavy and thick with anger that Kenobi could feel through the Force.
"Hey now, don't insult Tarkin's ship!" Kenobi said in mock offense, grinning when he heard the Moff himself cursing in the background. "She's wonderfully built, my compliments to you, Wilhuff." Angry shuffling followed, curses and barked commands as the sound of Vader's breathing grew softer, the man moved away from the com system, and Obi-Wan, seeing the system now primed and ready, activated the stealth drive, the ship vanishing from sight. There was still two minutes until the jump was ready. The Carrion Spike, like the man it was made for, was being a little bitch.
"There is nowhere you can run, Kenobi," Tarkin snarled into the com, his temper flared and his voice tight and angry. "I know that ship better than anyone. I know its strengths and its weaknesses, and I can track its every move now that I have a lock on her."
"Really?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised. "Can you track stupidity? Because really, I have no idea what I'm doing here." The com suddenly cut, and Kenobi frowned. He had hoped he could keep the man talking, but it seemed as though Tarkin was content to destroy his ship if it meant taking Kenobi down with it. Obi-Wan slammed the yoke forward, the ship's nose whipping down as it dove, the accelerator pushed as far forward as it could go, and the engines roared in effort as maximum power was engaged. Space lit up with lines of green energy as the Star Destroyer's cannons shot blindly at a target they couldn't see, and with a minute to go before the jump, all Kenobi could do was dodge and evade the barrage in a ship he was only marginally familiar with.
The Umbra was sleeker, faster and handled better than the long, aptly named Carrion Spike, though the ship he piloted now could take more abuse, which was good, because despite his best efforts, the shields were taking a fair bit of punishment. Still, he stayed in the cover of stealth, refusing to fire back lest he give away his position, which would have been enough had the TIE fighters not been dispatched, and at their head was a Special Operations TIE that Kenobi recognized all too well. Not much bigger than the others, its hexagonal wings curved inwards instead of standing straight at the ship's sides, the smoother design making the already fast ship even faster, though more difficult to control. However, in the hands of the pilot that sat within, that didn't matter, and unlike the others, Darth Vader flew with the Force.
There were still thirty seconds left.
"I need a plan now," Kenobi snapped to the people behind him. "I was going to try to get the ship to crash on Geonosis, but that isn't ever going to happen, not with everyone on high alert. You have targets, give me one!"
"Galidraan Station," Teller said quickly, the man shifting in his seat as the ship shook as its shields were bombarded by fire from the TIE Fighters that followed Vader's attack vector. "There are large garrisons of Imperial troops stationed there."
"Lucazec mining facilities," the Gotal in the copilots seat said. "The Empire is mining for resources there."
"The Nouane System!"
"The Carida System!"
"Are you crazy?" Kenobi snapped, his teeth grit as he suddenly pulled back on the accelerator and the ship lurched to a sudden stop as the reverse thrusters engaged, Vader's TIE shooting past them, and the Carrion Spike rocked from the impact of the other two Tie Fighters ramming into the back of the ship and exploding on impact, red warning lights flashing in the cockpit as alarms blared. The shields, finally, were down, and there was damage to the engines. With Vader's ship now in front of him, Kenobi thrust the accelerator into the forward position, the ship rocketing forward as he opened fire on Vader, giving away their position, but forcing the other Sith Lord to take evasive action to avoid getting hit. Just as Vader managed to get his TIE back into position facing the Carrion Spike, the hyperspace jump calculations were completed, and the ship shuddered as it bolted forward, and then it was gone.
The calming blue and white of hyperspace filled the viewport, but nothing was calm on the Carrion Spike. Kenobi managed to disable the warning lights and alarms within a few moments, and he reeled on the crew that sat pale and nervous in their seats. He quickly checked his datapad. He was going to miss his party.
"Those were your targets?" he asked again, completely indignant. "Nouane and Carida are Mid Rim and Inner Rim systems, who the hell decided on those targets?!" When nobody answered, Kenobi groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Vice Admiral Rancit gave you those targets. I'm telling you, he's setting you up. Nothing on his list is viable. He's looking to advance himself by destroying you, which I completely understand, but honestly, I have a party to get to."
"Where are we headed to now?" Anora asked softly, a hand on his shoulder.
"Geonosis..." Obi-Wan said absently, and put his hand up for silence when he felt the others tense, heard the objections within their minds, and he quietly gathered his own thoughts. "We aren't going there, obviously, but Tarkin thinks so. He had a lock on the ship, he saw our coordinates, and he's going to rush to meet us there. We have five minutes before we arrive, so I need a new target fast so we can drop out, recalculate, and be on our way."
There was silence, and then, from the back of the group, a quiet, warbling voice said "Desolation Station." Obi-Wan turned in his seat, looking down the length of the cockpit, and the rebels parted, the Mon Calamari stepping forward. "I worked there, for a time," he said, more firmly now that he seemed to have the Sith Lord's attention. "It's a scientific laboratory, they're conducting hyperdrive research there. I don't know for what, but it's something big. Something secret." He paused, looking at Kenobi for approval, and when he said nothing, the Mon Calamari continued. "The supply lines we attacked often go through there first." That settled it. With a nod, Obi-Wan deactivated the hyperdrive, the Carrion Spike lurching to a sudden stop as the blue and white snapped back into the dotted stars in the black of space. There was nothing around, no sign on the radar indicating any nearby ships, and he waved his hand, indicating to the navicomputer, and the Mon Calamari quickly strode to it and entered the coordinates.
As before, the Carrion Spike complained about calculating the jump, this calculation taking close to five minutes for completion, almost as if the ship itself were reluctant to be put to use against the Empire it was made for. Obi-Wan activated the stealth drive, cloaking the ship from sight and scanners, and in quiet safety, he opened a com channel to Cody and sent him the new coordinates, a parsec away from the target so they could all make it to the safety of the Umbra.
Except for Teller. He had plans for him.
He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, reaching out through the Force to feel far beyond the lives of those within the Carrion Spike. The Dark Side felt calm, cold in its patient wrath, but undisturbed, just as it should be, and in his meditations, his thoughts couldn't help but drift to Luke and Leia. With the rebel activity and the secret project on Geonosis and the knowledge of his direct involvement in both, Obi-Wan had taken the twins the day before to spend time with their weird, green Uncle Yoda, and had made Qui-Gon promise to keep an eye on them while they were there. Were something to go wrong, Organa could be exposed, which would put sweet Leia in danger, and Geonosis was uncomfortably close to Tatooine, which made him worry constantly about Luke. That the desert world wasn't swarming with Imperials by now was a good indication that there was nothing of value to the Empire there, which Kenobi was eternally grateful for, even if Luke thought the planet was a bit of a bore.
"We won't have much time once we rendevous with Cody," Obi-Wan said softly, the other jumping as the silence was broken. "Gather in the docking bay. The faster we are, the more likely our success." The nodded, quietly muttered their compliance, and slowly left. All but Teller. He stayed rooted to his place, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes narrowed in anger, his friends trying to get him to move, but he wouldn't. Kenobi smiled softly to himself, and opened his eyes only when he felt that he and Teller were alone in the cockpit.
"You are a man," Kenobi began softly, "running on the plan of an Imperial that means to betray you, meaning you have no plan of your own."
"I do," he said, short and terse. "I'm going to kill Tarkin, this whole thing has been about disgracing him, about ruining his legacy, about watching him die."
"Then you're going about it wrong." The frankness of the statement made Teller bristle, but Kenobi paid it no mind. "I don't like to get involved with groups," Obi-Wan said, crossing his leg over his knee. "You rebel cells are too...radical, too impulsive, too difficult to manage and short-sighted, but unfortunately, I find myself invested in those who are committed to an organized rebellion, and your short forays, your personal vendettas...they're ruining the bigger picture."
"And you somehow think that Tarkin is vital to the big picture?" Teller snarled, growing more vicious than before. "If we kill him, we can put an end to his evil!"
"He's a cunning asset to the Empire, to be sure," Obi-Wan drawled, steepling his fingers as he leaned back. "But he's just a symptom of the actual problem. If Tarkin dies, Emperor Palpatine will replace him with someone worse, and before you say anything," he said, his finger extended and silencing Teller with the Force, "yes, there are men in this galaxy worse than Wilhuff Tarkin."
The moment Teller was released, he lurched forward and gasped, "But Antar-"
"Oh, one small massacre and he's suddenly the galaxy's worst person..." He sighed and looked at the flustered man. "I don't think you can kill him. I think you are too much like Cham Syndulla. I think your failure is guaranteed. You reach too far."
"You underestimate me," Teller growled, and Obi-Wan had him where he wanted. He was angry, he felt challenged, he sought justice, and he had something to prove. It was everything he needed to put Teller on the path to his own death.
"...perhaps you're right," Obi-Wan said softly. "Cham Syndulla may have failed to assassinate the Emperor and Vader, but maybe you can succeed in killing Tarkin." He thrust his thumb toward the back of the ship. "There's an escape shuttle in the back. Take it, use it to hunt Tarkin. You used to be in Republic Intelligence, this sort of work should come naturally to you." Teller's face settled in grim determination as he nodded.
"And the Carrion Spike?"
"Is already a stain on Tarkin's reputation, and after I crash her into Desolation Station, the name will live in infamy." Kenobi smiled softly as Teller considered this, nodded, and left without another word, just as the ship reverted to real space, the sound of the engines louder than they should be as they complained about the abuse they had endured. He checked the scanners, and the Umbra blinked into existence, requesting permission to dock with the Carrion Spike, which Kenobi quickly granted as he entered his new directions into the ship's computer. As soon as the Umbra disconnected, the Carrion Spike would be flying full speed right into Desolation Station, and with any luck, there wouldn't be anything around that could stop it in time. Even with damaged engines, the ship was a fast one, and their time in hyperspace had recharged the shields enough to make it at least moderately durable again.
As he got up from the pilot's seat, he saw a shuttle pass by the viewport right before it jumped to hyperspace. Like Syndulla, Teller was a fool, a short-sighted idiot driven by vengeance that lacked the sense for patience. A man like that would only damage his cause, but a man like that was also a dead one. Kenobi knew how Teller would end. Tarkin was, at the heart of him, a hunter, an exceptionally clever predator that killed would-be hunters like Teller for sport. Kenobi would have no doubt that even without knowledge of Teller's assassination ploy, this entire event would keep Tarkin on edge for a little while, and as such, he would certainly know he was being tracked. He may even make a game of it, lure the unsuspecting rebel into his territory so he could finish him off on his own terms. Tarkin was in no danger, and if Teller happened to succeed, so much the better. But he wouldn't.
Tarkin was a clever man, and discovering Teller would almost certainly bring him to investigate for further rebels, which would, without question, lead him right to Vice Admiral Dodd Rancit, a high ranking member of the Imperial Navy, and finding traitors that high up the chain of command would do nothing but good things for Palpatine's increasing paranoia. After all, the future members of the Inquisitorius had to be purged, there was now an Imperial sex scandal that was no doubt spreading like wildfire on the holonet, and just last year, the Imperial Palace had mysteriously been broken into, and seven Sith holocrons had mysteriously disappeared. It was so strange how these things happened.
Obi-Wan hadn't yet had the time to study them all in great detail, but holocrons he had lusted after for years were among them, including holocrons made by the likes of Darth Revan and Darth Bane and one other made by Darth Vitiate, the Sith Emperor Valkorion himself, which brought his total of holocrons made by that particular Sith Lord up to three. He knew Sidious had a great more holocrons than the ones that had...disappeared, but Obi-Wan only ended up having a few hours to run through the Palace. Not all the holocrons called to him, after all. Still no Nihilus, though, but he had time.
Kenobi breathed deep as he entered the Umbra, a smile on his face when he saw Cody dropping immediately when Anora turn on him and demand, "Why would you let Teller go?!"
"Am I his Master?" Obi-Wan asked casually, and the woman sputtered, flushed, and looked embarrassed for asking such a thing. "Your friend's a leader, and I asked him to follow. He chose instead his own path." She bit her lip, nodded, and stepped out of the way, allowing Obi-Wan and the Mandalorian to pass by and stride toward the cockpit.
Reaching over for the controls, Obi-Wan quickly disengaged from the Carrion Spike, engaged the stealth drive, and watched as the long ship turned, engines blazing and trailing smoke as it shot forward, quickly disappearing into space as it hit top speeds toward Desolation Station. It would hit its mark. He knew it would. Quickly entering in the coordinates for Alderaan into the navicomputer, the Umbra's engines seemed to purr beneath him, so responsive and familiar to his commands when compared to the similar but entirely foreign ship he had commandeered that morning. A moment later and the familiar blue and white of hyperspace filled th viewport, and Cody and Kenobi left the cockpit and let the ship carry them.
"We still got time?" Obi-Wan asked as they slowly made their way down into the hold, and Cody quickly checked the time setting on the comlink on his wrist and made a face.
"Cutting it a bit close, but..." The clone smiled. "Yeah. We've got time."
"You know..." Kenobi drawled as he touched his hand to the wall controls, the doors to the hold hissing open. "Stealing a ship, starting an Imperial sex scandal, recruiting rebel specialists, ruining high priority supply lines, destroying an Imperial hyperdrive research facility, and convincing a man to commit suicide isn't such a bad start to an Empire Day."
Cody grinned. "And we haven't even seen your kids yet."
"Which is really the best part of the day." They approached the large shipping crate in the room, the cargo from the convoy that Cody had taken from the third attack run on the supply lines, and Obi-Wan could almost feel himself drawn to it, like it was calling to him.
"I don't know what it is," Cody said softly, pushing off the lid, which landed with a heavy metallic thud upon the ground. "You're the expert in the weird stuff. I can't figure out why the Empire would want rocks."
Obi-Wan looked into the crate, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't feel his heart beat or his blood rush as he stared inside the huge crate filled to the brim with clear crystals that looked like ice, ranging from completely transparent to shades of the palest blue, from as small as a fingernail to as big as a fist. Thousands of them. He carefully reached out and ran his fingers delicately, almost reverently through them, shivering as he touched them, as they softly chimed as they moved against each other. They appeared dull now, but Obi-Wan knew that to the right eyes, they would shine, bright and brilliant, to the right ears, they would sing, pure and melodic. But even to him, even under his corrupted touch, he could hear them humming, the prelude to a song that was so close to being lost.
"These aren't rocks," Obi-Wan said, his voice barely a whisper. "These are kyber crystals."
"Kyber crystals?" Cody asked, looking into the crate and quickly taking his hand away from the edge when he saw how close his fingers were to touching the delicate things. "The things that power lightsabers?" Kenobi slowly nodded. "What would the Empire want with those?"
"I don't know, but it isn't good..." He closed his eyes and felt the crystals with the Force, felt them hum and vibrate under his touch, and wondered if Luke or Leia may find a crystal meant for them among the thousands present. "I'll need to bring these to Yoda, he nay understand better than me. Kyber crystals are sources of great power, and if the Empire is harvesting them in quantities far beyond even this..."
"Sounds like we really need to know what they're building on Geonosis," Cody said, and Kenobi nodded.
"I couldn't agree more, brother."
But that could be done later. He had a birthday party to get to.