Eight Months Later.
9 BBY. The Outer Rim, An Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station.
Bail narrowed his eyes at his senior Intelligence agent. "And you're sure about this?" he asked.
Agent Yanda Ka, a Rodian intelligence worker, shrugged. "As sure as we can be." Bail waved a hand, prompting the reticent agent to elaborate. One of her antennae twitched in discomfort, but she went on. "Our network is having a hard time infiltrating the Navy and the Intel operations, but sources closest to 16th Fleet's position tell us they're gearing up for a mission, and this station is the only thing in the sector worth checking out."
Bail sighed and raised a weary hand to his forehead. "Understood. Thank you for the report." Taking this for the dismissal it was, the woman inclined her head and departed. As the door hissed shut behind her, Bail commed his senior officers and negotiators, all of who but Mon Mothma were on location. One by one, the leadership of the resistance filed in. All of them were fugitives, charged with sedition and worse, and Bail counted most of his best friends among them. Sometimes, he wondered at the changes his life had undergone in the past nine years.
Ahsoka Tano and Obi-Wan arrived together and last, filling out what passed for a leadership board among Bail's refugees. As they took seats around the command room's holo table, Bail stood, determined get the bad news out of the way first.
"The Empire has received word that this station's power grid is active. We are very likely to have company within the day." There were varied reactions to this pronouncement. The two Jedi went stiff, their expressions grave, Dodonna swore quietly into his beard, and Mon, appearing via hologram from Dac, blanched visibly, cheeks going nearly opaque under the blue filter. "Luckily for us, they do not know that anyone in particular is here. Intercepted Fleet chatter suggests that they are merely conducting a sweep in response to the power grid being active."
"Without capital ships, our only option is to run before they get here." said Dodonna, leaning forward. "The Empire still isn't aware that we exist, and we must keep it that way."
Obi-Wan nodded, tapping a forefinger against his bearded chin. "He's right," said the Jedi. "I suppose the good news about having such a small force is that there's very little to move. We can get out within three hours, give or take a few minutes."
"That's still cutting it awfully close, Master Kenobi." said Mon softly. Bail agreed, but there was nothing else they could do. Well, nothing for the group as a whole. There was something more Bail could do for Padmé and her husband, and he intended to see it done.
"Handle your departments, then." he said. "Full evacuation. Our primary rendezvous point will be Sulon, as agreed upon. If it's occupied, follow procedure and head for the secondary point." As the commanders nodded and rose from their seats, Bail turned to Mon. "How are your negotiations going?" She shook her head, looking grim.
"Not well." She sighed. "It took me months to even get a meeting with representatives of the Mon Cala and Quarren. The Empire has Dac in a stranglehold. The people are trying to fight back, but without leadership from within, they won't get far. Their top naval commanders were all enslaved under the Pacification Act." Mon snorted in disgust at the term. "No capital ships anytime soon, I'm sorry, Viceroy." Bail nodded in understanding.
"Stay safe, my friend." he said, and, with a nod, she disconnected the comm, her image blinking out in a flash of blue.
He looked then at Obi-Wan, one of two members of the council who didn't have personnel to manage. "I want you to coordinate with your contacts and see about finding the Mon Cala Naval officers. Use whatever resources you feel are necessary. A liberated Dac would aid our efforts infinitely." The Jedi nodded, with a slight, secretive smile, and Bail inferred that a certain assassin would likely be accompanying Obi-Wan on his mission. Finally, as the last few beings trailed out of the room, he caught Ahsoka's attention, and she hung back, one brow marking raised in question.
"I want you to take Leia now, before the evacuation starts." he said. "In case we don't get out in time, I don't want her getting snapped up by the Empire. Go the long way to Sulon, and don't tell her why you're taking her off base, none of us needs a panicked Force-Sensitive child around. There's a scheduled supply run you can make, very low risk. Take Sabé and her boy as well, I doubt Leia would go without him." Ahsoka nodded.
"Solo too." she murmured, mostly to herself. "I'll go find them."
9 BBY. The Outer Rim, An Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station
The intrepid rebel operatives were so close. So close to discovering the location of the Empire's top agent and stopping him. All they had to do was stay hidden. It wasn't comfortable, curled up like a pair of monkey lizards, but that was the life of a rebel spy. Below them, the Imperial Hangar hummed with life, full of troopers and officers going about their evil business. Above the mundane chatter was the sound of their quarry's increasingly desperate calls as he searched in vain for the infiltrators who, unless caught, would no doubt thwart his plans.
"Where have you gotten to this time?"
Beside her, curled up in the dark access hatch, her partner grinned at the panicked shout. "Got 'em now" he mouthed, and jerked his thumb at the grate. The Rebel Commander nodded and wriggled silently forward, recalling all of her combat training. Her partner lifted the grate with light, gentle fingers, and the Commander launched herself forward with a fearsome warcry, catching her target in the back.
"Son of a chuff sucking, Sith-spawned Hutt!" yelped Han, as one of the two children he'd been looking for collided with his spine, sending them both tumbling to the hangar floor. The spectacle elicited a few chuckles from the mechanics on duty, and full-throated laugh from Colonel Rieekan, who was discussing something or other with Colonel Ceryx across the hangar.
"Gotcha, Imp!" crowed Luke, (or Ruwee, as they called him out loud) clambering down from the low-set access hatch in which the two brats had apparently been hiding. Hells, it was tiny, how had they managed to squeeze inside?
"I've been looking for you two for ages! How long were you in there?" he asked, disentangling himself from Leia's skinny legs. She scrambled to her feet with more grace than should have been possible for a nine-year-old and set her small fists on her hips.
"Almost an hour, right, Ruwee?" The brown-haired boy nodded, looking smug.
"We were staking out the mission!" he said proudly.
Han rolled his eyes. "Good job, you little menace." Honestly, he'd thought the little Princess was bad enough by herself. Since she'd met the boy, they'd been twice the trouble. How in the 'verse he'd managed to get attached to the Twin Terrors, Han would never know.
Leia laughed.
"We're not menaces, we're rebels!" she said, grinning widely and displaying a recently acquired gap in her teeth.
"Rebels," came a voice from behind Han, "would have been quieter, Little One." Luke, at least, had the grace to look a little ashamed, glancing down at his feet as Ahsoka approached. Leia just shrugged. Han grinned. Reinforcements, at last. "And you, young Solo, should be more aware of your surroundings." Han scowled at her. So much for backup, then.
"Hey, it's not my fault I don't have magic Jedi powers or whatever." he grumbled.
Ahsoka laughed, though it sounded a little forced. "Well, at least you improved the Colonel's day." she said, with a jerk of her chin toward Colonel Riekaan, who had only just stopped laughing as General Dodonna approached him and the other colonel. Leia's grin got, were that possible, even wider, and Ahsoka leaned down conspiratorially. "Now, if you 'Rebels' are willing to hold still for two minutes and listen, I've got a proposition for all three of you." Han raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I've been given a mission, and I want you three to come with my men and I." Both children's eyes widened, excitement glowing in them. Han was excited, too, though he was way too mature to show it. Ahsoka smiled. "I thought you might like the idea. It's your first mission as rebels! Now, go pack a bag with whatever you think you'll need, okay? Make sure you've got at least one change of clothes, I don't know how long this will take. I'm gonna go prep the Falcon. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."
Leia was practically bouncing off the walls all the way back to their quarters, but Luke was a little worried, for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was Ahsoka, and the way she'd been smiling, the same way Mom did when she'd been crying the night before and didn't think Luke knew. Or maybe it was the fact that they'd been begging for months to go with Leia's aunt every time she left on a mission and she'd always, always said no. Mom had taught Luke a long time ago how to look under what beings said, especially when they were telling you things you wanted to hear, and somehow, Luke didn't think this was as simple as their first rebel mission. As they reached their door, Leia's voice, raised in a question, yanked him out of his thoughts.
"…ask her, right?" Luke blinked at his friend, confused.
"Huh?" Leia rolled her eyes.
"Pay attention, laser brain!" she admonished. "I said, we're finally gonna get a chance to ask Auntie 'Soka about the Holo! Aren't you excited at all?"
Huh. Luke hadn't thought about that, actually. The Holo, the one of Luke's mom that Leia had found, was a mystery they were determined to solve. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to know anything about it. They'd asked Sabé, since she was Mom's best friend, but she'd just shrugged and said maybe Leia's Dad had been curious about the Senators. Ben, who was apparently good friends with Mom too, had said the same thing. Luke knew that wasn't right, though. That was a dumb reason to have a holo in your pocket if he'd ever heard one. Han was only a little more helpful. He'd just said, "I don't know, maybe they were friends or somethin'. Those Jedi types were always working with the Senate during the war." Maybe that was the truth, but Luke and Leia weren't going to stop until they knew.
Leia was sure Ahsoka would know something, since she was practically her dad's sister, but the togruta Jedi was almost never on base. She was always off doing stuff for Viceroy Organa, and they hadn't gotten a chance to ask her about the Holo.
"Yeah," he said, real excitement blooming in his chest for the first time. "You sure she knows about it?" Leia nodded, eyes resolute and sure.
"She's got to."
9 BBY. Hyperspace, Somewhere Between Taris and Lianna, The Hold of a Small Cargo Freighter.
All Anakin could think was that this was definitely against the Legal Transport and Trade Code. For Kriff's sake, there wasn't enough room down here to stretch his legs out, and none of the crates had even been secured to the floor, which meant that every time the ship hit a pocket of energy in the hyperspace tunnel, they threatened to collide with his head. He already had two throbbing bruises, and his day didn't seem to be getting any better from here.
Well, at least he was away from Taris. Stupid idea anyway, thinking the rumor might have been true about Ohnaka's gang being holed up there. Unfortunately, Anakin couldn't afford to ignore any rumors, even the vague and unreliable ones. In nearly eight months of searching, he'd turned up exactly nothing about Hondo Ohnaka. Instead, he'd been arrested on Mandalore, though only by the regular guard; thank whichever of Padmé's Goddesses happened to be listening. After that, it was one close brush with Imperial troops after another, though he hadn't stayed in one place long enough for the Sith Lord to catch up with him. He could feel the Sith's rising frustration like an unpleasant shadow dogging his steps though, and it was likely only a matter of time. Anakin knew himself well enough to know that if he found a lead on Padmé, he'd follow it wherever it led, Sith Lord be damned. Now that Leia and Luke were safe (they were, he could feel Leia's presence in their bond, all warmdesertsunshine and doubly strong for being with her twin) there was nothing, nothing more important than finding his wife and making sure she was, too.
With a sigh, Anakin dropped his head against a crate and tried, uselessly, to massage the cramps out of his knees. He'd been sitting here for going on eight hours now, and he'd fallen asleep twice, only to be woken both times by unsecured cargo connecting with his ribcage. The fact that he'd managed to fall asleep at all despite the incredibly uncomfortable way his legs were bent was a testament to how exhausted he was. In the past four days, he'd slept maybe nine hours, all of it in seedy motels in Taris' underbelly. The past eight months had probably been the hardest living he'd ever experienced, which, for someone who'd lived on Tatooine for half his life and fought a war for three straight years, was truly saying something.
Words could not describe how much Anakin Skywalker hated Darth Sidious in that moment, sitting in the freezing hold of a smuggling freighter headed Gods-knew-where with his ass almost completely numb. And that wasn't even touching the real reasons he hated him either, not the mild panic he'd been in ever since the Sith had shown up on Tatooine, not the empty, lonely way the Force resonated these days, and not the pain the Empire caused billions of beings every day. The Republic might have been a bureaucratic nightmare, but at least it had tried.
Gods, he needed to stop dwelling on shit like this. Without Leia's bright presence beside him, the Dark was a sweet, beckoning lure, drawing on his anger and fears, just as it always had.
Anakin sighed again and resolutely focused on something, anything, other than his feelings. Like plans. Plans were good. Once the ship got wherever it was going, he'd get back to hunting leads. It was maddening, frustrating work, the kind Anakin had never been good at, but he had to find Hondo's hideout. Padmé would be there. She would. She had to be.
9 BBY. Florrum, Hondo Ohnaka's Compound.
Florrum was beautiful, in a harsh, yellow sort of way. The land was rocky and uneven, stretching endlessly to the ancient mountains in the west, so far off on the horizon so as to be nearly impossible to make out. There were few major cities, but a myriad of little towns, mostly centered around mines.
The Imperial garrison, established around eight months ago, had carried out its mission well. Petty crime and smuggling were down to the lowest point in living memory. Even the famous pirate, Hondo Ohnaka, seemed unable to best the Imperial blockade. In fact, the people of Florrum's main entertainment for the past several months had been Ohnaka's varied attempts to slip through the Star Destroyers' ranks. None had worked out so far, but the brief flashes of battle visible from the planet's surface were always interesting to watch.
Interesting for the locals, anyway. For Hondo and his pirates, and most especially for their increasingly desperate guest, the garrison was a serious problem.
"Another one?" she groaned. Hondo sighed. It was the sixth plan, the sixth attempt to find a weakness in the seemingly impenetrable blockade holding Florrum, and, consequently, Hondo's business, in a chokehold. It had ended much the same as the other five, his pilot dead in a twisted, flaming hunk of metal on the planet's vast geyser fields, and a small, angry Senator in his office, venting her frustration on him.
Hondo raised his hands, palms out. "I am sorry, Padmé, but I simply don't have the answer you so desire. Frankly, it would take a miracle to get anything off this world without the Empire noticing." Hondo barely reacted, other than to lean backwards, as Padmé slammed her small hand into his desk with a loud bang. Padmé Amidala, as it turned out, was quite the spitfire when she was frustrated. Hondo imagined she and Skywalker must have made a hell of a pair, from what he knew of the Jedi.
"There has to be something, the blockade cannot be invincible!" she snapped, eyes flashing. Hondo, who was rather used to this, sighed again.
"Unfortunately, until the Empire lifts, or at least loosens, the blockade around the planet, there is no way off. Believe me, I would not hold back information from you, it's in my best interest to move on as well. Florrum is no longer profitable for my men and I." That was certainly true, he reflected. More than half of the captains and crews had already gone, hitching rides on outgoing transports. Hondo, however, would not leave unless he could do it with his reputation intact. Anything less would kill his career faster than a Mandalorian in full plate.
As she opened her mouth to retort, a shout rose from the yard below.
"Week's rations are here!" Padmé, who always helped unload and inventory the compound's Imperially allotted rations, turned to leave, much to Hondo's relief. Before she went, though, she had one more thing to say.
"There is a way, Captain, and believe me, I will find it, miracle or no."
She shouldn't yell at Hondo. After all, it certainly wasn't the pirate's fault that the Empire had taken up seemingly permanent residence in his backyard. In fact, she ought to be thanking him for not handing her over, despite having had several opportunities to do just that. Just last month, in fact, Commander Barnetto had been in the compound, conducting a search for contraband and illegal substances. The Empire hadn't turned anything up since arriving, but Barnetto enjoyed throwing his weight around. Padmé shuddered to think what he did to the poor miners in the towns. At least out here, they were all fairly used to having blasters in their faces. Lost in thought, she nearly walked into the compound's heavy doors. Mentally chastising herself for her inattention, she pulled down her dust goggles before stepping out. A gust of wind blew through the yard as she walked, dust stinging her skin. Eight months ago, she'd have squirmed at being so dirty. Now, though, Padmé simply pulled her scarf up over her nose so as not to get dust in her mouth and trudged on.
Unloading was hard, sweaty work, made no easier by the constant dust, but it was necessary, and it made Padmé feel useful, so she was happy to do it. She'd have killed for a shower with real water, though. And, of course, she'd do anything, anything at all, to get off this rock and back to her son. She no longer allowed herself to think about the rest of her family. The nightmares were simply too much.
Above her, like the Galaxy's worst cosmic joke, the Star Destroyers loomed. She couldn't see them, but she knew exactly what they looked like, bone white against the darkness of space, and seemingly invincible. In her darker moments, she thought maybe they were, that the Galaxy was doomed to live under Imperial control for the rest of its existence. After all, her best hope of escape was currently to wait until the Empire decided to lift its blockade. How pathetic, for a woman who'd once liberated her world from a similar blockade with only her personal security, two Jedi, and a nine-year-old for backup.
As she dropped her last crate with a sigh, there was a voice behind her, snapping her out of her black mood. "Afternoon, me Lady!" called the tall, unusually broad-shouldered Weequay as he passed. She rolled her eyes, but responded good-naturedly, her voice muffled a bit by the scarf.
"How many times, Alatar, it's Padmé, not my Lady!" Ike laughed, hefting the crate he was carrying in his arms.
"Right you are, Lady Padmé!" Still wearing a self-satisfied grin, Ike sauntered inside to drop off his crate of rations. Padmé smiled. Ike was one of Hondo's more loyal captains, and he was a good-natured being, always able to lighten the mood. In times like these, with little to no profits and at the mercy of Imperial forces, he was invaluable to the survival of the compound.
There was little, very little, good about being on Florrum, but Hondo and his pirates weren't so bad, especially now that the alcohol had run out and they were mostly lucid. She'd take the friends she could get, no matter how uncouth. She chuckled to herself as she walked by Onyo and Tanala having one of their famous lover's spats in the hallway, and thanked the goddess that Luke wasn't here to pick up any of their colorful insults, or, dear goddess, ask her what they meant.
The thought of her son wiped the smile from her face. Padmé turned her face to the sky, up to where she knew the Imperial blockade sat, blocking her way back to Luke. With a viciousness she didn't think she'd had eight months ago, she wished for anything, anything that would take it away.
She would get back to Luke. No matter what it took, she would.
9 BBY. Nal Hutta, Capital City of Bilbousa
No matter how many times he visited Nal Hutta, and in the course of his life, Obi-Wan had been several times, he could never shake the urge to shudder at the general dinginess of the planet. Anakin's least favorite terrain was desert, but Obi-Wan's was, without a doubt, swampland. The air was close and far too thick, and even the highest, firmest ground felt rotten under his feet, like the killing fields on Jabiim and Umbara.
However, Asajj wanted to meet here, and so here Obi-Wan was. He'd not seen her in months, not since the day after they'd brought Luke and Sabé to the resistance. He understood completely why she'd left, of course. Organizations weren't really her cup of tea, especially since the last authority figure she'd put her trust in had tried to kill her. Honestly, Obi-Wan considered himself lucky she'd agreed to meet with him at all, let alone join up with a burgeoning military.
He found her at a booth in the Lady Love, one of Bilbousa's many, many saloons. As he approached her table, something warm and light sparked in his chest, filling out some part of him he hadn't known was lacking, and, unbidden, the corners of his mouth turned up. He schooled his expression back to neutral, which was easy, seeing as the reaction her presence had caused was deeply troubling. He hadn't felt such a thing since the last time he'd seen-he stamped down on that train of thought. Perhaps it was best to keep this meeting strictly professional, until he could get a hold of himself.
"Ventress." he murmured, sliding into the booth across from her. It put his back to the door, but he couldn't sense any danger here. Asajj smiled, a real one, not the sinister leer she put on before a fight.
"I even got you a cup of tea. I'd have picked caf for old time's sake, but the faces you make at it are so very off-putting." she said, with a nod to the cup across from her on the table, which did appear to be full of tea, Ti'il by the scent. He took a sip, nodding his thanks. Asajj raised her brow expectantly, running a fingertip around the edge of her own glass, which contained a small measure of amber liquor. "So, tell me about this important job you need my help with."
"Ah." he said, setting his cup back down. "I'm looking for some Imperial prisoners. They'd be a mix of Mon Cala and Quarren, and they'd be kept in high security, but likely not maximum. They're Naval officers from Dac, arrested under the Pacification Act." Asajj leaned back, eyes narrowing to slits.
"Obi-Wan, you know I don't want to get involved in Imperial business any more than I have to. For the time being, Sidious has forgotten about me, and I'd like to keep it that way." She scowled. "I'm not going to be captured and reconditioned, not for anything." Anyone else in the Galaxy would have been fooled by her anger, but Obi-Wan knew her well enough to look further. There was fear in her narrowed eyes, a deep, gripping fear of ending up where she'd been ten years ago, a pawn in Sidious and Dooku's games. He sighed.
"Obviously it's your choice, Ventress." he said, aiming for a reassuring tone. "Mostly I need information. Surely someone in your circle keeps up with intel like this?"
She exhaled through her nose in sudden dark humor, a smirk curling her lips. "Well, as it happens, I do know someone who might know about Pacification prisoners. I doubt you'll like it, though, he's a nasty piece of work, even among hunters."
Obi-Wan sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, I have a bad feeling about this." She let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Yeah, I'll bet you do." she said, and tossed back the remainder of her drink. "His name's Bane."
The hotel was sleazy, but by the time Asajj had made her call and arranged the meet with Cad Bane, it was well into Nal Hutta's night cycle, and so she and Obi-Wan decided to leave in the morning together. She wasn't about to set foot into an Imperial prison, but she wasn't going to let him go alone to talk with the most cold-blooded bounty hunter in the Galaxy, either.
She couldn't keep from shifting uneasily back and forth as they waited in the dim lobby. Something was wrong between the two of them, she could sense it. The easy conversation they'd had on Corellia seemed to have evaporated into the air, and it was incredibly irritating. Every awkward exchange felt so wrong, it made her skin crawl. When she'd gotten his comm about wanting her help, she'd been- not excited, because she didn't get excited about anything anymore, but definitely not unhappy about the prospect of seeing Obi-Wan again. Force, maybe it was just the sex, but she'd kind of missed the damn Jedi. This stilted, stiff Obi-Wan, however, she didn't know what to do with. When he booked a double room, though, she'd had enough.
"Alright, Kenobi," she growled, dropping her work bag on the room's rather grungy floor. "What is your problem? You haven't so much as looked me in the eye all day, and since when have we needed two beds?"
The fingers of his right hand flexed, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable. "There's nothing wrong, I just don't think sharing a bed would be a good idea." As he spoke, her stomach seemed to fill with duracrete. How could she not have realized? Obi-Wan wasn't about to settle down and buy a house with anyone, of course, but it had been eight months since the last time she'd seen him. He'd taken up with someone else and, damn him, he was too much of a gentleman to sleep with two beings at the same time. It made sense. What didn't make sense was the way her heart seemed to weigh kilos now that she'd figured it out, nor the sudden strong desire to rip his eyes out of their sockets.
"Oh?" she said, not sure what was driving her to keep talking, or what was making her voice come out so snide. "And why not? Afraid your Rebel isk'aa will find out you slept with a Darksider?" Obi-Wan jerked back, eyebrows jumping nearly to his hairline.
"What? Ventress, I'm not sleeping with-" He shook himself and took a seep, calming breath. "I'm not seeing anyone, I just think it would be best, in the interest of my mission, to, ah, to keep things strictly professional between us." Asajj froze as relief flooded through her at his words, followed by a horrifying realization.
No. No, she was Asajj Ventress, she was an ex-Sith, a feared bounty hunter, and she did not get jealous at the thought of other beings sharing Obi-Wan Kenobi's bed. She did not want to cry with relief because he hadn't taken up with someone else in her absence.
Except, of course, she did, on both counts. The thought was damning, but also just the slightest bit comforting, because now she knew. And Asajj Ventress, for all that she apparently did develop feelings for ridiculous, irritating, ginger-haired Jedi, was, above all, a woman who prided herself on knowing her own mind. The knowledge gave her a purpose, and no way in hell was he weaseling his way out of this conversation now.
"It's never worried you before, why now? What aren't you telling me?" she pressed, determined. He raked his hand through his ginger hair and looked directly at her for the first time that day, gray eyes pleading.
"Please don't ask me that. I-I don't have an answer for you." His fingers clenched and unclenched over and over again, the only sign of stress she'd ever seen him show. She shook her head again.
"I do," she said, and it was true. She couldn't read his mind, but she knew her own, and she suspected his distress was coming from the same source as hers. One of them had to do something about it, and it wasn't going to be Obi-Wan. "I think you realized today that you missed me these past few months, just like I did. I think it scared you. And, I think you're being utterly ridiculous, and that you should get over here and kiss me." The last words left her in a rush, almost without her consent, but she was glad she'd said them, for they were the truth. Whatever the future held, she wanted him.
His shoulders slumped in defeat at her words, and he sank slowly onto one of the beds. "I-I can't." he whispered. "I can't feel like this about you, about anyone." Asajj rolled her eyes and stepped forward, dropping down to the bed across from him.
"You can." she murmured, gentle as she could. "Emotions are not inherently evil, Jedi. You risk the Dark far more by fearing it than by accepting the way you feel." It was a lesson she'd learned the hard way. He looked up from the floor, his face pale and his gray eyes haunted.
"There is no emotion, there is peace." His voice was a whisper, barely even there. "I am a Jedi Knight, Asajj. I am the last of them, and I cannot turn my back on the Code." She wanted to smack him, the damned annoying Jedi, but she held herself back, reaching for his hand instead.
"Obi-Wan, the Jedi Order is not something that ought to be preserved." Her words were harsh, but her tone was kind, and it was a truth he needed to hear. "Sidious was right in front of you for years, but your Council was too proud to think that it could have been wrong about the Sith. Order 66 struck the final blow, but the Order was dying long before the Republic fell." He opened his mouth to retort, but she wasn't done. "The Jedi Order's chapter has ended, Obi-Wan. Let it go, and let something better come from its end."
Something that lets you be happy, for once in your life.