There will come a point in our journey when we are closer to our destination than we are to home. This is the point of no return. We cannot turn back now, no matter what.
Chapter 7
As hyperspace jumps went, this one was not as peaceful as most. Usually hours, even days trapped in a trans-dimensional reality presented perfect opportunities to relax. There was often nothing to do, which was great when you had company. On your own however meant tedium of the highest order, but not on this trip!
Obi-Wan had been travelling for approximately three standard hours. During that time, about every two minutes or so to be precise, an alarming shudder would run through the ship, a new serious sounding noise would occur, or a different warning light would flash on the control panel. All of it indicating that this jump could end at any moment, even though there were still several hours travel to reach Bastion, the emergency jumps calculated destination; and civilisation.
In order to take his mind off worry, Obi-Wan had been in partial meditation, focussing on any guidance the Force could offer. Unfortunately the Force was insistent on revisiting only one thing, something that was just as disconcerting as his current travel problems; the sensation that he was being watched! During his escape from the pirate hideout Obi-Wan had almost forgotten about that initial discovery, but the persistence of the feeling through the Force was beginning to leave him in no doubt that there was a very real issue that needed to be addressed. But just what that was he wasn't quite sure.
The sensation was definitely one of being watched and that could only mean one of two things. Either another Force user had sensed his presence and was reaching out to locate him or, he was being followed. Obi-Wan was certain there were no other Force presences around, the last one he had felt was Master Nu's back on Coruscant, which meant it could only be that someone was on his tail. Worryingly, the sensation had been there since before he had been ambushed by those pirates, which in turn meant it could not be one of them following him. Somehow the one thing he'd been trying to avoid the whole time had happened. He didn't know how he'd been discovered or by whom, but he intended to find out and fast.
Just then the problems with his ship went from worryingly possible to terminal, announced by a violent deceleration and an ear splitting whine. The hyperdrive had finally had enough! Obi-Wan scanned the controls as the Knights Quest reverted unceremoniously to real space. The sublights were still functioning as were most of the other essential systems, which from a certain point of view was fortunate indeed. However none of that would matter if he had dropped out of hyperspace in a remote region of interstellar space, since normal propulsion speeds would take only about several thousand or so years to get him to the nearest planet. Not that would be a problem now he thought about it; he'd suffocate, dehydrate or starve first. "Not a pleasant way to go, but definitely better than dying of boredom," he said to himself. The navicomp was still functioning as well Obi-Wan was pleased to see, even more so when it revealed his current location. The Force still appeared to have use for him yet, as it transpired he was not too far from civilisation at all. He even had a limited choice of destinations! Taking note of the information provided by the navicomp and his serious need for repairs, Obi-Wan elected to head for a small system of moons close to the main Dubrillion system. One moon in particular had shipyard facilities both on the surface and in orbit and it was only about fifteen days travel. That would be cutting his water reserves a little fine, but should be doable. If the boredom doesn't kill me first, he thought ironically.
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Raynor was becoming increasingly nervous. His mission was reaching its climax and pretty soon events would begin to overtake him. He would have so much to do, in a very short time window. Thinking about the possible outcomes and of course his own future, actually made his stomach churn like an excited youth. This excitement in turn was propelling him flat out to Bastion, which was where, by his calculations, Kenobi was headed. Caught up in this wishful thought Raynor almost missed the readout from one of his active sensor arrays. No alarm had been triggered, but the gravity distortion display had registered an anomaly along his flight-path. Calculated hyperspace jumps avoided anything in space that affected gravity, since this could actually distort hyperspace itself. So when a gravitic anomaly registered in your way this often meant a hazard, such as an uncharted asteroid that had wandered into your path. And that would set off just about every alarm you had! In this case no such alarms had sounded, as the gravity distortion was much more subtle, meaning it could only have been caused by another vessel, one entering or leaving hyperspace at that particular point, to be exact.
Instinctively Raynor killed the hyperdrive, terminating his calculated jump. He had discovered through experience that when he just reacted rather than thought about something, his decisions usually proved correct; they had in the past anyway! Sure enough, as soon as he entered real space, sensors picked up the exhaust signature of the Knights Quest. Hyperdrive must have failed, he thought. Luck was certainly with Kenobi, another couple of hours travel and he'd have been stranded in the middle of nowhere.
Raynor studied the information his navicomp was providing about his location. "Where have you gone now?" he asked, thinking aloud. Put yourself in his position. What would you do? After a few seconds thought, the answer became apparent. There was only one real option for a ship badly in need of repairs to head for. This was perfect for Raynor! Kenobi would have to travel at sub-light speeds, meaning Raynor could jump ahead of him and arrive first. He could set things up in advance, meaning when the time came, he could close his trap with just one call. "Dubrillion here we come," he said.
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Although this region was not really Dubrillion, it was still registered as part of the system. The actual planet was millions of klicks away. The main planet in the sector, which was now filling Raynor's view port, was an obscure place; a gaseous mass without even a name, just an identity number. Its moons, of which there were several, were only slightly more interesting, again not named, only having numeric designations. Moon three was the only one with a sustainable atmosphere, hence its growth as an industrial facility. There were shipyards in orbit around the moon and additional repair centres on the surface. This was not a ship production centre however, like Kuat or Bilbringi. It was more a service and repair facility, catering mainly to the multitude of vessels trading in and out of the Corporate Sector.
Raynor scanned the information scrolling across his data readout. The orbital facilities dealt only with capital ships by the looks of it, so Kenobi would have to land on the surface. Fortunately all the repair centres were bunched together in one place, almost like an industrial city complex, which again would limit Kenobi's choice of landing site. Even better still, the Empire had a strong presence here, emphasised by the old, but still intimidating Star Destroyer overseeing the shipyards and the small Imperial garrison towards the eastern end of the surface complex.
That would make things much easier for Raynor. He could play the Imperial role and ask direct questions of the workers down there, rather than snoop around and hack into their systems for information. He would simply march in wearing his intimidating black uniform and demand to be informed as soon as the Knights Quest arrived. And woe-betide anyone who alerted the pilot of that vessel that he was under investigation! The locals would be used to the way the Empire ran things and they would know what he meant when he used the term, 'consequences.'
Following standard procedure, Raynor hailed the Star Destroyer. "Imperial Destroyer Vanguard, this is Intel Eighty Eight Delta," Raynor commed the vessel. "Go ahead Eighty Eight Delta."
"Code signature is zero, zero, one, zero, zero, one, clearance green."
"You are cleared to proceed."
"Thank you Vanguard. I will be tracking a small vessel to the surface and I would appreciate being allowed to continue without drawing any attention," Raynor said, hoping the comms' officer would take his meaning. "Understood Eighty Eight Delta, perhaps we could be of assistance by alerting you when this vessel arrives in system?"
"Thank you Vanguard, that would be most appreciated. I'll send you the details. Eighty Eight Delta out."
Raynor relayed the transponder details of the Knights Quest to the Vanguard, before heading to the moon's surface. All he had to do now was intimidate a few locals and bribe one or two others to provide him with Kenobi's whereabouts when he landed. By which time he would have set up the two communication relays he would need. One back to Imp' Cent' Intel' and one straight through to Lord Vader, hopefully! Time to call in a favour, he thought.
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Raynor settled his ship into a high level docking bay which had been cleared, no questions asked, for him by the orbiting Vanguard. No sooner had his repulsors powered down, then he was at the comms station. "This is Intel Eighty Eight Delta requesting contact with the Devastator, come in please."
"Intel Eighty Eight Delta," came the reply. "Transmit your code clearance."
"Clearance, green." There was a moments silence as the response was cleared. "Thank you, how may we be of assistance?"
"I need to contact Commander Grax, I believe he is currently aboard," Raynor half questioned, half stated. "Patching you through to his comm. station now."
"Grax here," came a clipped Chandrillian accent. "Hello Tor," Raynor said with a slightly superior sounding tone. "I need that favour!"
Tor Grax and Raynor had trained together at the academy and had both been in the team of operatives infiltrating weapons shipments several years ago. During one particular investigation Grax had missed vital data that allowed a rebel cell to gain access to some considerable firepower. Their superiors had wanted a head to roll, but Raynor had somehow managed to doctor the evidence pointing to Grax, pinning it instead on another agent who everyone disliked. As it turned out, actually saving Grax from a dishonourable discharge. He had since owed Raynor considerable payback.
"DeFay," Grax said, somewhat deflated. "I'd like to say it's good to hear from you, but somehow I get the feeling this is going to hurt."
"Are we on a secure line?" There was a static click. "We are now. What do you need?"
"Is your boss on board?" Raynor asked. "Tion? Of course, he's always here," Grax replied. "No!" said Raynor with over-emphasised patience. "Your real boss!" There was a long silence, broken only by Grax slowly exhaling the deep breath he'd taken. "Yes he's here," he said at last. "I need to speak to him directly and I want you to set it up for me."
The Imperial Star Destroyer Devastator was a new vessel, practically just out of the shipyards. A brand new toy and one that was, from time to time, played with by Lord Vader, who commandeered it as his flagship when required. Grax had recently been appointed as its' Intel' officer.
"You know how difficult that can be Raynor?" Grax said. "Yes," Raynor replied matter of factly. "You also know that if I succeed in your request but he is even mildly irritated by whatever it is you have to tell him, he will not only swat you like the proverbial sand fly, but me as well for wasting his time!"
"Don't worry! Once he hears what I have to say, there might even be rewards in it for you," Raynor pacified him. "If I do this Raynor, we're even. I don't want to hear from you again and if nothing comes of it I'll be doing everything I can to distance myself from you!"
"Understood Grax. Just be ready for me the next time I call. If you don't hear from me within the next twenty standard days, forget it."
"It will be best if you contact me direct. I will put you through from here. This is my direct access."
"Thank you Grax. Consider us even!"
Raynor terminated the transmission then headed to the small bunk station to the rear of the cockpit. He dressed in his black uniform, including his officers' side-arm to complete the intimidating effect he would need. The ship repair complex was huge, so Raynor needed a base at which he could be contacted as soon as Kenobi arrived. He had his personal comm. with him so the Vanguard could alert him, but he would need a holoprojector to talk to Vader, as well as another transmitter to inform Imp' Cent' Intel'.
Opening the egress ramp to leave his ship a chill blast of wind blew across his face. Sealing the vessel behind him he made his way out into the main street of the complex. The sky on the horizon was beginning to darken. It looked like rain!
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A ship in need of repairs was not an unusual sight in a vessel repair facility. From the looks of it however, the small wedge shaped vessel limping towards the third moon of the unnamed gas planet in this sector, should have tried the scrap dealers first. In places its white paintwork was gleaming, almost as if the vessel was brand new, but for the most part its surface was covered in scorch marks and stains from various fluid leaks. It was also listing at a curious angle, probably caused by the loss of a large section of one of its control surfaces, plus the effect of a burned out engine nacelle in the same region as the rest of the damage. It almost looked as if it had frozen part way through a rolling manoeuvre.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had spent the last standard hour in communication with an array of different repair centres. After fifteen days of excruciatingly slow travel, even his Jedi trained patience was hanging by a thread. All but one place had brushed him off with some excuse or another about parts or over-booking or something, but at least there was one place willing to accommodate him. "Docking bay 242629," Obi-Wan repeated into the comm. "Thank you, I can be there in thirty minutes." Turning to an approach vector Obi-Wan noticed the swirling clouds of the moon's atmosphere. "This just keeps getting better," he said to himself. He'd been doing that a lot lately – talking to himself. Mind you, he had just spent fifteen days all by himself! Come to think of it, he'd almost spent ten years by himself! "So I've gone a little strange," he said aloud again. "You really must stop doing that, now concentrate," he ended his one sided conversation. Focussing on the task at hand, Obi-Wan prepared to enter the atmosphere, which appeared to be in the throes of a storm. This would be difficult! Damaged control surfaces were not too much of a problem in the vacuum of space, but as soon as they encountered air resistance…. Well it would be like riding a wild bantha with only a piece of string for reigns!
Looking ahead through the view port the scene before him turned from black to intense white as the atmosphere enveloped the Knights Quest. Obi-Wan's world suddenly turned upside down! The small vessel was whipped into a wild spin as soon as winds took hold of it, winds which according to the external sensors were reaching speeds the planet Vortex would have been proud of. Instinct told Obi-Wan his own reflexes would not be enough here, even though he was a skilled pilot, so he immediately immersed himself in the Force. As ever, just like in meditation back on Tatooine, he was instantly aware of everything, he knew everything in intimate detail. He could count the star ships in orbit around the planet, could feel every living presence on the surface. He could sense the enormous power that burned at the planet's core; and most important of all, he could feel the storm. He was the storm!
The weather system was huge, covering most of the northern hemisphere of the moon, feeding incessantly on the oceans that made up most of the surface. Focussing solely on the wind and his vessels place in it, Obi-Wan imagined the two as completely joined. When the wind pushed one way, the ship automatically went with it, compensating for the movement. The Force translated this through Obi-Wan to the control yoke, guiding his hands in reaction to, and in advance of the swirling currents. To any experienced pilot watching, some of the manoeuvres Obi-Wan employed would have seemed ridiculous, then again no normal pilot would have stood a chance in these conditions.
Suddenly the whiteout through the view port disappeared and the winds dropped to a manageable level. The Knights Quest had punched through the upper atmosphere and was now beneath the cloud layer. Instead of wind, the transparisteel was now being battered by intense rainfall and the cockpit was lit up by occasional flashes of lightening streaking across the darkened horizon.
Obi-Wan keyed in his landing coordinates, still having to fight the controls a little, but at least able to multitask now. Up ahead a circle of lights went from white to green, indicating his docking bay and with a few more awkward adjustments to pitch and yaw, Obi-Wan was finally able to engage the repulsors and bring the vessel down safely.
Initial discussions with the repair centre manager took about an hour, but eventually Obi-Wan was satisfied. Best case scenario meant he was stuck here for at least seventy two standard hours. All he could do now was find a place to stay and wait; but first some food and a stiff drink. Pulling his hooded robe about him, Obi-Wan headed out onto the storm.
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Raynor finalised the details of his transmission, then locked his terminal on standby, ready to be activated at the touch of a button. An intense flash lit up the small room through the window, causing Raynor to stir from his concentration. He hadn't realised how long he'd been working, nor how dark it had become. The call he'd been waiting for had arrived approximately three hours previously from the Vanguard, which had registered the Knights Quest entering the system. Raynor had at that point retreated to his temporary base of operations; a small holonet café just off the main street, but just far enough away from the busy cantinas and eateries. He had easily been able to procure the establishment from its owner with a little bit of Imperial muscle sweetened with a few credits. Since then he'd had to wait, for what felt like forever, until word came through that Kenobi had landed in one of the more obscure, small scale repair enterprises towards the outskirts of town. Raynor also knew that Kenobi had gone to one of the less down market cantinas on the main strip within the last few minutes. Raynor was on his way there now, where he would tail Kenobi to wherever he was staying, at which point he would make the call whilst Kenobi slept.
Everything was in place; time to go! Raynor pulled on his black Imperial issue overcoat and officers hat, checked his side-arm then headed out into the squall. The rain had been incessant for the last two weeks, to the point that Raynor no longer heard the constant drumming noise it made. Apparently, huge storms were frequent on this moon, occurring about once every lunar cycle. Fortunately the locals were so used to them, that the urban layout was designed to cope. All buildings were relatively low level, avoiding the wind and storm drains and channels connected at regular intervals easily coping with the deluge when it came.
Raynor turned onto the well lit main street, along which most of the local businesses had based themselves. There were few beings about in this area, but as he progressed along the three hundred meters or so to his destination, the density of passers by steadily increased. Finally he hit the centre of town which, even well into the night phase of the moon, was bustling, most of the establishments being over-populated with spacers and traders in varying states of intoxication. It all seemed fairly good natured however, helped by the Imperial enforced rules regarding weapons, which were not allowed to leave the owners vessel at any time. If you wanted a drink, you came unarmed!
A little further along the strip the revelry was slightly less vocal and the establishments a little more upmarket. It was here that Kenobi had been seen entering an eating establishment not long before. Raynor spotted the particular place and casually made his way in, taking a seat at the small bar and ordering an equally small beverage! There were other Imperial officers around which made him feel more comfortable and less conspicuous. Raynor scanned the many faces present, which was quite difficult in the diffuse lighting, but not impossible. Eventually his gaze stopped on a booth in a corner close to the front window. There, relaxing with a tumbler in one hand and an empty plate on the table in front of him was a familiar figure. His beard had begun to grow back by now and darker grey strands were appearing at the roots of his hair. He certainly looked like the memory Raynor had of his childhood hero, even more so by the fact that he was wearing what appeared to be the old simple brown Jedi robe. Raynor laughed quietly to himself. Obi-Wan Kenobi still made an impression on him; the man seemed the epitome of self-assuredness. Raynor pushed the feeling down – he had a job to do.
The moment was suddenly broken, as a nervous chill went down his spine. Kenobi had looked right into his eyes, just for a split second, but enough to make Raynor almost lose his cool. Did he know he was being watched? No, it wasn't possible. Kenobi had not been here long enough to be suspicious of anyone and none of the locals knew that Raynor would be tailing him himself. As if to reassure him at that moment, Kenobi got up and left without giving Raynor another glance. Leaving the rest of his drink Raynor followed him out and along the main street, allowing his old tracking skills to cover him amongst the crowds. After a short distance Kenobi entered a small hostelry. Raynor watched his room light come on then took a seat in a diner on the opposite side of the street. Ordering a stimcafe, he sat and watched for nearly one standard hour. Finally, when he was sure Kenobi was not going to move again, he left and headed back to make the call.
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Obi-Wan had spent much time in places such as this. Spaceports were all pretty much of a muchness, they were all always busy at all times, they all had plenty of places to eat, drink and sleep and they were all a heady mixture of cultures from all over the galaxy. The one difference between them, from Obi-Wan's point of view anyway, was the chances of getting yourself killed in one. That varied greatly, from zero on Mon Calamari for example, to better than even in places like Nar Shadaa and Mos Eisley. This particular spaceport seemed to come quite low on that scale, largely helped by the fact that only the Imperial personnel seemed to be carrying weapons.
Obi-Wan should have felt fairly relaxed then, and yet he was anything but. He was almost jumping at shadows and everyone seemed to be watching him. The weather didn't help, casting a mysterious atmosphere over everything, although Obi-Wan was rather enjoying the rain, after a decade in the desert. It was his Force awareness that was the problem really and that was what was putting him on edge. Sometimes rather than being an ally it could make you hypersensitive, like having constant pins and needles.
Heading into the centre of the complex, Obi-Wan found lodgings fairly easily, choosing a simple but comfortable room not too far from the repair centre he had just left. Once that was taken care of, priority number one became to clear his head with that stiff drink.
The sounds and smells grew more intense the further along the main street Obi-Wan moved, neither the weather, nor the late local time spoiling the revelry. One smell in particular drew Obi-Wan to a particular establishment. It had been a long time since he had partaken of a good Nerf steak and the thought actually made his stomach growl.
Thirty or so minutes later Obi-Wan felt like he could actually relax a little. His injuries had healed well during meditation on his fifteen day flight to this place. Now his stomach was full and he had a decent glass of brandy as well. The currents swirling in the Force had also dropped to a seemingly background level. Or so he thought! All at once he realised he could not have been more wrong. The Force practically kicked him in the face with a warning – you're being followed! And whoever it is, is right here in this place. Obi-Wan forced himself to stay relaxed, easing back in his seat, whilst scanning the room. He looked from face to face, panning from left to right and then as he reached the bar area, the Force stopped him dead in his tracks. A man in black Imperial fatigues was looking right at him, if only for the briefest second, but it was enough. Obi-Wan did not recognise him, he'd certainly never seen him before, but the Force was in no doubt, this was his tracker. The sensations emanating from him seemed to back this up as well. He had the confidence of a professional, but tinged with the nervousness and excitement that went with the chase.
Obi-Wan decided to leave, purposefully without giving the man another glance. He could feel his presence clearly now and sure enough the man followed him at a discreet distance, all the way to his lodgings. Once inside Obi-Wan sat down and waited, pondering his next move. The man waited too it seemed, eventually drifting away after about an hour. Obi-Wan could not run, he was stuck here, so that was not an option. Besides, this guy whoever he was appeared to be extremely effective at tracking him. That left only one choice; he was going to have to confront him.
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The storm had increased in intensity as the moon's night cycle progressed. Flashes of lightning accompanied by dramatic thunder claps occurred once or twice every minute or so.
Raynor was out of breath, he'd been running to avoid the pummelling downpour, but also propelled on by adrenaline. Turning off the main street towards the holonet café he was using as a temporary base Raynor noticed just how dark it had become. The street lighting was much less numerous the further out into the complex you travelled. Arriving at the entrance to his building he keyed the access code, immediately crossing the room to the comm. terminals he had left waiting. He hadn't even turned the lights on such was his desire to send his transmissions. Raynor reached for the controls. "I would really rather you didn't do that," came a voice from the doorway. Raynor froze. He'd apparently forgotten to close the door as well as the lights in his haste. Turning slowly, his vision was filled by a hooded figure, silhouetted in the doorway by a flash of lightning. The figure moved, closing the door behind it, then sitting down on the edge of the nearest table. "May I offer you my congratulations, you really are very good at what you do," said a refined Coruscanti accent. "It is a great shame you have chosen to work for a tyrant."
At that moment the lights came on and Obi-Wan Kenobi lowered his hood; intense gaze meeting Raynor's from no more that seven feet. Raynor did not even register that the lights had come on all by themselves, he was struck dumb with shock!
"You are obviously a professional," Kenobi went on. "And as such it would appear you know exactly who I am. Am I not correct?" The question roused Raynor to his senses and his training began to take over, refocusing him. "Yes, I know who you are Master Kenobi, and I have a duty to bring you in."
"A deluded sense of duty perhaps. Do you have any idea what is a stake in these dark times?"
"You are a criminal Kenobi! You turned against the legitimate government and many people died as a result of your actions. You must be brought to justice."
"Whose justice? Your Emperor's? Do you know who your Emperor is? Do you know what your Emperor is?" Obi-Wan sounded slightly exasperated. "He is the legitimate ruler of the galaxy and the one man who is up to the task of controlling the petty bureaucracy and selfish politicians who would bring about its downfall," Raynor stood his ground. "And therein lies your delusion," Obi-Wan sighed. "Palpatine has led you to believe that is the case, when in fact his rule is one of fear, fear, subjugation and murder! In short a rule of evil and one that must be stopped."
"And you intend to do that don't you?" Raynor spat out the question. "Yes, because it has fallen to me to do so," Obi-Wan replied. "That is why I have to stop you," Raynor countered. "For all I know you are raising an army now. Then you and those rebels will cause another civil war!"
At that moment Raynor rushed for the comm. station, but he never got there. An invisible barrier grabbed him and pushed him across the room, causing him to fall into several tables and chairs. Obi-Wan rose and positioned himself between Raynor and the comm. station. "How did you find me?" Obi-Wan asked, changing the subject. His calm, friendly manner unbalanced Raynor somewhat, having just been hurled some ten feet by him. So he just answered. "I picked up your search for Jedi information on Imperial Centre, and I've been following you ever since. I got your id from your thumb print on Stellar Astris."
Obi-Wan cursed his carelessness silently, instantly thinking of the danger he had placed Master Nu in. "And you came all this way on your own? Without backup? That was a little foolish don't you think?"
"It would appear so now! I was about to call for some, but I've been a little sidetracked!" Obi-Wan relaxed a little, no one else knew about him, or Master Nu. "It would appear you have me in a predicament then. I am trapped here until my ship is repaired. Your bringing in reinforcements would be uncomfortable for me to say the least. I cannot let you do that."
"So how do you intend to stop me? Even I know that a Jedi will not kill in cold blood!"
"Yes," Obi-Wan sighed regretfully. "So it was, and so it must be again!"
Obi-Wan's mind had begun to reel. The young man was correct. A Jedi only uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack. That premise was as familiar to him as his own name. But I am defending something, he thought. I'm defending the future. He had to stop this man, no matter what!
Raynor made another move for the comm., but Obi-Wan intercepted him, physically pushing him back. He would try to do this non-lethally if he could, even if he wasn't quite sure how yet. Raynor threw a right hook that actually caught Obi-Wan on the cheek, his thoughts distracting him momentarily. Obi-Wan responded in kind with two punches of his own, both of which landed, then finished his combination with a straight boot heel to the chest. Raynor stumbled backwards, toppling over chairs and tables, eventually righting himself and wiping the blood away from his mouth. He charged again, with unexpected ferocity this time, aiming low with his shoulder in an attempt to tackle Obi-Wan to the floor. He saw it coming in time, bringing his knee sharply up into the man's face, then smashing his elbow down hard against the back of his neck. Raynor went down, clearly stunned, but he did not stay there. A combination of wits, training and instinct kicked out a leg aimed at Obi-Wan's midriff' who wasn't expecting it. The blow almost doubled him up, sending the familiar ache from a blow to the groin through his stomach and causing him to stumble backwards. Both men looked at one another, Raynor from his knees, Obi-Wan bent over with his hands on his. Neither was going to back down!
Raynor, only partially recovered, charged again, this time leaping at Obi-Wan with a raised boot. Obi-Wan caught his foot and spun him to the floor. Raynor kicked out at Obi-Wan's shins then rolled away as he leapt over the attack. Deciding on a new approach Raynor began hurling chairs at Obi-Wan, each of which he deflected with a little Force shove. It was clear the man was becoming desperate. A deflected chair rebounded cleanly back into Raynor's chest and Obi-Wan definitely heard the sound of ribs cracking.
The young man was tenacious and Obi-Wan respected that, but it was also his main concern – he was not going to give up. Obi-Wan was running out of options. He could try and rip the man's memory away with the Force, but he'd never had any success with that before, only ever really being able to plant suggestions in, and even then, only on the weak minded. This man was certainly not one of those.
Just then, the point of no return arrived – Raynor pulled his blaster. Obi-Wan was almost caught off guard again and had to duck and roll to avoid the shot rather that ripping the weapon from his grasp. Momentum took him into the man and they collided, heavily falling to the floor in a grapple. At this close quarters the Force had little advantage, it was a question of brute strength and Obi-Wan's opponent was a good quarter century younger than him. Raynor gradually managed to manoeuvre his blaster towards Obi-Wan's chest. He could see it coming, could feel it approaching and at that moment, his mind stopped reeling. The future is in your hands. If you fail, darkness will prevail. He clearly heard the words as if they had been spoken to him. It could have been Qui-Gon's voice, or Yoda's, or Mace Windu's, it didn't matter. In fact through the Force it felt like the voice of every Jedi from ages past who had fought the same fight as him. He knew what he must do!
Holding off the man's approaching weapon hand, Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber. He could not free it fully, but it was enough. As Raynor gave one final push to line up a shot against his chest, Obi-Wan flicked the activation plate. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.
Many people have made sacrifices for the greater good. In that small room, lashed by rain and storm, the sacrifice was twofold; a young man's life, and an old man's conscience.
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