Here is part 2, a little late but here as promised. Two important notes: first, a small tw, I'm going to update the rating because there is a little bit of gore/graphic depictions of a body in this chapter, and it's a bit heavy. Secondly is that there is a cut in the middle and I don't want it to be too confusing but a few minutes happen between the cut; it just made sense to put a cut there, for timings sake. Thank you for reading!
The Crisis on Thysar was far worse than Obi-Wan could have imagined it to be.
Upon arriving into the Kingdom quadrant, after a three hour trek across the Country, it had taken the two of them far too long to convince the Palace guards that they were not foes; a call to Coruscant would have been all it could have taken to secure their titles, but without a commlink Obi-Wan had resorted to a little bit of forceful persuasion. He did not like that Anakin had seen him grow a bit cross, but he had not stopped to dwell on it long.
King Ghideal was a testy and easily infuriated man. Obi-Wan had rarely seen a being so prone to outbursts, enough so that his flock of attendants regularly were required to physically restrain him, cautioning him to sit on his throne and catch his breath. He repeatedly was fixated on the time, the time, the time, which only left them with about ten hours until a planetary alert was called, and could not be soothed out of his state, no matter what Obi-Wan tried as assurance. It was not unlike a father to be worried about their children, but the King was in a place above and beyond such sentiment; thusly, Obi-Wan had ushered Anakin out quickly with a reassurance to the man that his son would soon be returned.
They had been shuttled in a carriage to the Town, where Prince Cion had rumoured to be hiding. It was a generally populated city, streets lined with cobblestones and centuries old buildings. It seemed generally wealthy and clean, and Palace guards roamed about in small groups. Some women handed out flimsi that broadcasted the Prince's disappearance, and Obi-Wan had accepted one to study. The Prince was a boy that was nearly a man, a hardness to the thinned eyes that hinted at a suppressed defiance.
Anakin had been the one to alert his Master of a suspicious looking pack of boys hovering around in an alleyway, and they had questioned them promptly. There were four of them, all looked under sixteen standards years old and children of the streets. Obi-Wan could see in their bloodshot eyes, as well as by the stray vials around their feet, andris must have been in their system, which made him consider their every word with caution.
"Took off, he did. Took off, off planet … to Corellia, or …" The tallest boy said lazily, last word trailing off with no intention of finishing.
"When? How do you know?" Anakin asked, snapping his fingers near the boys face to focus him, "Did you see him?"
"S'one sold him a cruiser, nice class-B frigate," Another one of the children spoke up, looking a bit more alert, "I saw … the money, he gave, lots of money."
"Leaving the nest." Obi-Wan sighed, "Off to find himself in a heap of trouble on a different planet."
"Do we send an alert out, then?" Anakin said, following as his Master turned away from the boys, "Is this a Republic problem now?"
Obi-Wan chuckled, "Everything is a Republic problem, Padawan. The Prince is at little risk, but it is important to locate him before someone else does and uses him to their advantage - "
"He's not gone."
The pair turned around again. The same boy, with bright brown eyes, shook his head in confirmation.
"Heard him. Heard them say, he is here, he is on Thysar. Mu- munici … mu - "
"Munitions?"
The boy nodded furiously, "Munitions, his Highness went for them. But he is here, now, I saw his freighter, at dawn."
Obi-Wan's mind worked quickly as it processed, Anakin watching him intently. That sickening feeling, that uneasiness, swelled inside him sharply like a wave of nausea. His Padawan sensed it. They both did. But it had been too late.
The Prince bombed the Town.
Obi-Wan's lungs burned, every breath a scalding cold in his chest that made each inhale more dreadful than the last. But he kept breathing, kept pumping his legs at an impossibly frantic pace, shooting looks over his shoulder every few moments to ensure his Padawan did the same. Anakin's eyes were dead set ahead of them, not daring to look back.
Behind them, billowing smoke was catching up quickly, fire roaring and fuelled by the frigid air. What used to be a whole complex of buildings was becoming nothing more than ash. It was a death none of them could control.
Steps faltered as someone sped past him, clipping Obi-Wan's shoulder. It was a Thysarian man, arms full of belongings that he had probably gathered in haste. A small furry creature skittered behind his heels, following its owner in haste.
Around them, street was filled with people, families, running for their lives. Some were loaded with bags and packs, others pushed carts, some even rode on the backs of laden beasts. There were no screams, no shouts of panic or distress. The desperate silence chilled the air, amplifying the sound of the roaring flames behind them.
Again, Obi-Wan looked back at his apprentice, who was slowing slightly in fatigue. Steady on, the Master spoke into their bond gently. Anakin sent back an affirming understood how difficult it was to press on, in the face of a failed mission. Failure was certainly not what Obi-Wan had wished for them, for Anakin. Not so soon. Not like this.
Above them, the dusky sky hinted nothing of the assault cruiser that had just launched an artillery barrage on the Town minutes ago. The Prince had done exactly as he had planned. Whatever seed of vengeance had been burrowing inside him had finally bloomed into realization. He had done his deed, shown his father exactly what he thought of his inheritance, his culture, his legacy. He had spat on it. And then, he had fled like the flickering stars that faded to fullness in the increasing night, not a trace to be seen besides the burning residue below -
Anakin was gone. Obi-Wan sensed it before he even looked back, and his eyes found him again quickly among the throng cluttering his vision, a figure crouched on one knee on the side of the street. He went to him without hesitation, pushing a few Thysarian's aside in his unconscious worry.
Before him, the boy knelt on the duracrete. The heat from a nearby building singed the air, and Obi-Wan shielded his eyes a bit. Anakin did not seem affected. No, he was concerned with something much more grave.
The body of a Thysarian girl lie face down on the ground. She could only be two or three years old. Her dress was blackened, scalded skin covering her exposed arms. She was very, very still.
"She's breathing," Anakin said quietly, still conscious of the eerie silence around them. Fire crackled nearby, wind whistled it to burn faster, but it was still frighteningly quiet.
Obi-Wan watched the child aspirate slowly, erratically. His Padawan reached out and took one of the small hands into his own.
Anakin spoke again, eyes not moving ahead of him, sharp desperation to his voice, "We have to save her, Master."
The rational part of Obi-Wan figured the girl had burns that were third degree, or worse. The impact of a high velocity blast even meters near a child was enough to kill them. Considering she had also been projected from a building, slammed with similar impetus to the ground, her probability of life was low.
The emotional part of Obi-Wan was frozen. He could not get his thoughts to work, his body to move, his words to respond. The weight of the tragedy suddenly collapsed on him in a way that was so tangibly real. The weight of failure, of despair. It all was so heavy.
Obi-Wan sensed, through their young and still fragile bond, the depth of pain in the boy. The desire to attain the unattainable. To save everyone, to risk his own life foolishly for another. It overstepped the tenets of the Order that Anakin knew well, the ones he understood in theory but not in practice. Not yet.
The desire was as delicate as a flower. As white as innocence. But it was a weed.
Obi-Wan made a choice, in that moment.
He had to prune the boy back. He had to cut the weed.
"Come, Padawan."
The boy didn't move, barely registering the words.
"There is no more we can do for her."
"... we can take her back to our ship, we have med supplies right? Bacta, a-and stim-shots, and synthflesh, we can bring her to Coruscant Medical and they can treat her better there -"
"Padawan." The title was not spoken with the edge of warning it sometimes held.
"Don't tell me we can't save her, because we can and you know we can."
"This is not about that."
"What do you mean? We can't leave her here to die!"
"What does the Jedi Code tell you, young one?"
Anakin finally met his eyes. His voice was laced with tears, but he spoke the tenet firmly. "A Jedi must put the need of the community over the needs of individuals … the good of all must be his goal."
"If we do not go now, we are risking hundreds of more lives. The Thysarian people need us to take them to safety. We cannot stray from our mission."
Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, but the boy harshly shrugged him off. What he was asking of him was something he knew, one day, all young Jedi had to learn. He had learned this the hard way, forsaking the Order to assist the Young in the Melida/Daan crisis. Death was a part of life. Clinging to every soul lost, to the guilt of losing it, was useless. It was dangerous.
He was asking the boy not to feel. Not to sympathize with the girl, not to fight for her life. It seemed a heartless action, to trim this part back in Anakin. But for the sake of the many, it had to be done.
Obi-Wan reached toward the girl, then, placing a hand on her head. The skin was hot to the touch. He closed his eyes, and sent a soothing wave of the Force to her weak aura, cutting her off best he could from pain and awareness.
"May the Force be with you."
And he ended her life.
Anakin rose after a moment, a steely determination falling over him, and he walked past his Master and began a jog away out of the Town. Through their bond, the guilt and the anger and the sadness flooded Obi-Wan. For both their sakes, he shut it out.
Instead, he did what he promised the boy he would do. As he imagined he would be doing for a very long time. Pruning, weeding, trimming, blooming, planted together and rooted in the Force. This was his duty, above all others.
Obi-Wan followed after his Padawan.