Obi-Wan
He couldn't escape it, not even in sleep. On the contrary, the moment he closed his eyes was the moment he could feel it the worst. Feel the heat eating at his skin; feel the sweat pouring over his eyes like a waterfall; feel the sheer hatred that rolled off his brother in waves. Endless, agonizing waves.
Hatred for Obi-Wan; for himself, even.
"Go ahead…" In his dreams, he recalled a distant conversation of a by-gone era. "... I will understand completely if you choose to hate me from this point on. What I've done to you, Anakin, is inexcusable."
"I could never hate you, Master," Anakin had returned softly, his eyes glazing over at the mere thought. "I'm mad at you, and hurt, and…" He'd blinked then, locking his gaze on Obi-Wan. "But I could never hate you."
"Oh, Anakin…" He remembered the unfamiliar feeling of his own dampening eyes. "I'm so sorry…"
"I know. But…" As Anakin had sucked in a tight breath, Obi-Wan had held his own. "I forgive you. Kriff, I can't keep living like this. You hurt me, and that's no joke, but you're sorry and… and I'm sorry for… for making your apology so… so kriffing difficult!"
Then, Obi-Wan had welcomed his former apprentice into a warm embrace as the two promised never to talk about the whole Rako Hardeen debacle ever again.
"I could never hate you, Master…"
Obi-Wan's subconscious fought to escape the terrible throes of sleep.
"I could never…"
No… No, no, no!
"I could…"
Anakin…
"I…"
"I…"
"I hate you!"
With a sharp gasp, Obi-Wan forced himself out of the nightmare, pulling his eyelids open mere seconds before Anakin's body was consumed by the flames.
Beads of sweat trickled down his brow, stinging his sleepy eyes. A quick glance to his right eased his racing heart, though only slightly. Satine slept soundly, curled up against baby Luke. Obi-Wan gently covered her with the blanket they'd forgotten to warm themselves with earlier before slipping silently out of bed.
She didn't deserve to be woken, not yet. And not by another one of his far-too-common night terrors. I am perfectly capable of sorting this one out on my own. I just need space… and time. But how much time was too much time? And when would the memories fade like embers into the distant past instead of inflaming every darkened moment of his present and future?
Oh, honestly, he scolded himself as he donned his Jedi robe, have you forgotten how long you dreamed about Master Qui-Gon after Naboo?
Master Qui-Gon… Yoda had promised to teach him how to communicate with his long deceased mentor, and while the diminutive Grand Master had made good on this promise, teaching him the essentials of such a mystical form of communication, Obi-Wan couldn't seem to grasp the steps necessary to receive a reply from Qui-Gon. Of course, he spoke to him… some. When he thought about; when he wasn't busy with Satine or the baby. But he never heard anything back from his long-deceased Master.
Perhaps he knows how horribly I've failed him and refuses to grant me a reply. Yes, that seemed logical. Practical. In his tortured mind, he didn't deserve to speak with Qui-Gon, the man to whom he'd made a promise—a promise he'd broken in his failure to keep Anakin from the lures of the Darkside.
The halls of the ship were dim at this time of night, but not entirely unnavigable. Drunken curses and songs traveled lightly down the hall from within the inner rooms and Obi-Wan did his best to block out the rowdy noises. He needed to think, to concentrate on calming his mind enough to attempt sleep once again.
"I hate you!"
Obi-Wan blinked. Hard.
That voice… Try as he might, he could not get that hate-filled voice out of his head. It continued to scream at him over and over until he was certain he wouldn't be able to take it for even another minute.
He was my best friend—my brother. How could he turn against me so? Sure, the two of them had their disagreements and arguments over the years, but he'd never once thought Anakin capable of such monstrous, traitorous acts.
"I hate you!"
Another blink.
"I hate—!"
"Well! Kenobi! So, you're a late partier, too, eh?"
The sudden sound of a voice—a real voice, not one from his memories—startled the former Jedi Master, and it took every last ounce of his self-restraint not to jump sky high.
"Hondo," he greeted with a small smile. "I wasn't aware you were up. Did you even go to sleep at all?"
It was a tease, but even the jolly pirate seemed to sense its underlying twinge of concern.
"Eh, I sleep when I want to. And right now, I've decided I don't want to. What about you? You look as though you've seen a ghost. Or two."
"You have no idea," Obi-Wan muttered and Hondo made no further comment. "I was just stretching my legs, getting some air before going back to bed."
"Ah," Hondo drawled. "Well, I'm afraid the air isn't very good for clearing the lungs in this section of the ship. Come!" he beckoned. "Walk with me and I'll take you to a better place for lung- and mind-clearing, and soul searching, and whatever you Jedi do in the middle of the night."
With a chuckle, Obi-Wan followed his host back through the halls. It was a little ways past Obi-Wan and Satine's quarters that he noticed the sign.
"'No Deathsticks Beyond This Point'?" Obi-Wan smirked. "Really, Hondo, I thought you didn't abide by codes."
"I don't." The pirate gave the sign a quick glance. "I don't smoke deathsticks myself, so I don't have to follow the rules. They don't apply to me. I do, however, like to have a few sections of my own ship where I'm not constantly coughing. Where the air is as clean as it can be in the void of space." He grinned, filling his lungs for show.
And Obi-Wan had to admit, it was easier to breathe in this part of the ship.
"Well, hats off to you, then, for maintaining some semblance of cleanliness… for a pirate."
"Believe me, the air's the only part of the ship that is clean." With a chuckle, Hondo led on until they arrived in what appeared to be some sort of lounge that doubled as a gazing room. "Sit! You still look like you've been visiting with the undead and I would prefer not to have a Jedi pass out in one of my best rooms."
Taking the seat offered him, Obi-Wan settled down onto the plushy, red cushions. Hondo took the chair opposite him and for several moments, the odd duo simply stared at the passing stars.
It was a strange feeling, to say the least, sitting quietly—almost peacefully—across from one of the galaxy's most notorious pirates. It was an even stranger feeling to call the pirate "friend."
"My men and I," Hondo began, breaking the silence with an uncharacteristically dismal tone, "we saw one of them."
"One of… who?"
When Hondo's eyes met his own, Obi-Wan had to battle the sudden urge to look away. There was something in the eccentric pirate's expression, something familiar. Something he'd seen in only one other civilian before…
In Bail's dark eyes on the Tantive IV.
"A Jedi," Hondo went on. "We were just taking off after a job on Cato Neimoidia. He was just… shot right out of the sky by his own men. I'd never seen anything like it. I never suspected something like… And I'm sure he didn't either. Of course, he didn't. How could he?"
Cato Neimoidia.
Plo Koon…
Throat constricting, he resisted the urge to squeeze shut his eyes. That never did much good anyway.
"No one did." Obi-Wan's voice sounded distant in his ears, almost as if he hadn't spoken at all. "No one… No one saw it coming. Any of it."
"Tell me, when did the Jedi lose control of their own men? And what would possess such staunchly loyal soldiers to commit such an act of treason, huh?"
"I'm not sure we ever truly had control to begin with. As for the question of treason… the Jedi were accused of treason by the Chancellor, our new Emperor Palpatine."
"Oh, don't tell me he's a crazy lasersword wielder too."
Obi-Wan couldn't quite achieve a smile. "I'm afraid so. He was in control of our soldiers from the very beginning, I'm certain of it. Anakin tried to… Well, Rex was convinced that…" He stopped, pressing a fist against his mouth. "Well, none of that is relevant now. The past can't be changed."
Hondo was studying him now, a curious expression gracing his leathered face. "I thought they had killed all the Jedi. It was… a fact I found I wasn't prepared to accept, for reasons I haven't been able to pinpoint. And then poof! You show up on the very ship I decided to raid. And I couldn't help but wonder: how, Kenobi, did you manage to survive the massacre?"
How, indeed.
Cody…
"A good man, that Cody."
"When have I ever let you down, sir?"
"Good soldiers follow orders…"
Darkness enveloped him, and yet it took a moment for Obi-Wan to realize his eyelids had closed on him. And he couldn't seem to get them to open again.
"I was shot down, just like the Jedi on Cato Neimoidia. Plo Koon was his name. You've never met him, I don't believe." Finally, his blue orbs shown once more through the dim lighting, reflecting the stars hurrying past the giant viewscreen. "I was lucky enough to fall into a deep pool of water. Without it, I wouldn't be here now."
Did he dare tell Hondo about the Temple? How he'd stepped over the dead bodies of all his friends, checking their pulses even when he knew they were no longer counted among the living? How he had discovered the chamber of defenseless Younglings, all marred and mangled by lightsaber burns? The very saber he'd helped his young apprentice craft so many years ago…
No. He wouldn't divulge any of this. No one else needed to be privy to the horrors he'd witnessed. You can't even make yourself tell Satine, your own wife, for Force Sakes!
He'd let her in on a few details, particularly after one of his worst nightmares. Yes, he'd told her plenty… Just not enough, it would seem. From her point of view, at least.
"What about that little Tano girl. Is she…?"
"I don't know." And oh, how it killed him not to know the fate of his Grandpadawan! Was she safe? Had she escaped? Or was Rex a better assassin than he was a soldier? No, no… He cared for her. They were friends. Surely that must have—
But you and Cody were close too. A tight-knit team. More than a team, he realized, but almost as close of friends as Anakin and I are.
Were.
"I would like to believe she found a way to escape," Obi-Wan continued, swallowing back his rising bile.
"She was a resourceful one," Hondo remarked with a hint of fondness. "And feisty. You can be sure she didn't go down without a fight."
"Yes…" Obi-Wan intoned, stroking his beard in a vain attempt to ease his nerves.
"And that other one who always followed you around? What about him? Starkiller? Star-Something. I can never remember his name."
Obi-Wan felt his throat tighten as if Dooku himself was slowly choking the life out of him. But he's dead. And even after so many days… His death still doesn't feel right…
"Anakin," he supplied. "Anakin Skywalker."
The name felt so unfamiliar, so foreign, almost as though he no longer held the right to use it, to say it as if it mattered.
But it does matter. Doesn't it? It will always matter…
"Skywalker. That's right. Is he…?"
"He's dead." Obi-Wan's tone was clipped, bordering on snappish. I killed him.
I killed him I killed him I killed him I killed him—
"Oh… I'm so sorry. Truly, I am. You two seemed… Close."
"We were. Once. Or, perhaps," Obi-Wan continued with a reflective frown, "we weren't ever as close as I'd thought. We certainly were never as close as I wanted us to be, but then… Well, that's beside the point."
"What is the point, then?"
"You tell me. Why were you so insistent on making us your passengers?"
A sad smile flickered across Hondo's lips. "For this."
Obi-Wan took a quick sweep of the room, but everything was still the same. Nothing was out of the ordinary; nothing seemed important enough to…
Oh.
Hondo cleared his throat before going on, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "When I saw you were alive, I couldn't stop remembering the Jedi on Cato Neimoidia. I needed to ask you, to listen to you talk about it from a Jedi's point of view. I thought perhaps a Jedi General could make sense of the one thing this old pirate could not."
Obi-Wan felt himself nod. "And did I fulfill this need?"
A slight smirk. "Somewhat. I just have one more question, if it's not too painful."
Oh, you have no idea.
"Go ahead."
"I have to know, so if you could at least give me your best guess, I would be more grateful than you'll ever know." Hondo sucked in a breath. "That little girl, the Tholothian who hung around with all those other young things. The Wookie, the Rodian, that annoying little human boy… Katooni, that was her name. Tell me she survived."
Oh…
Flashes of the fallen Younglings hiding in the Council Chamber plagued his mind, but he pushed them away for the moment, knowing full well they would make their return later. They always did.
"Well," he began, forcing a small smile, "I believe she had a greater chance of surviving than most. Her clan had taken off on an extended field trip, of sorts, shortly before the Jedi Purge." Just because that's what the media is calling it doesn't mean you have to—
Hondo's entire countenance lit up. "Then you think she might be…?"
"I have no reason to believe she wouldn't be alive. There were no clone troopers with them on this trip. It was simply an old-fashioned exploration for growing Jedi Younglings, reminiscent of those taken before the war. I can't say I know where she is at this very moment, but I know they were planning to visit Bandomeer to see the AgriCorps." At Hondo's puzzled expression, Obi-Wan added, "That's where the Jedi farms are located. For the most part, the planet has stayed out of the war, so it was a relatively safe place to send the clan. Still… I would be deceiving you not to say that anything can happen."
For a brief moment, Obi-Wan allowed himself to imagine what might have happened—how things could have gone so differently—if Qui-Gon had never taken him on as his apprentice at Bandomeer. If he'd only just left me there to rot as a farmer… Perhaps more Jedi would still be alive right now…
Perhaps my brother wouldn't have burned to death on that hellish planet.
But then again… We never would have been brothers if Qui-Gon had left me to my fate.
And he couldn't even picture a life in which he wasn't a Jedi. It had been his destiny.
Right. And now look where destiny has brought us all.
"Well," Hondo exclaimed, "a small lead is better than none at all, am I right?"
Lead? "Wait a minute, are you planning on…?"
Hondo shrugged. "Katooni almost joined my crew once, and I bet she would've if her loyalty to the Jedi wasn't so blasted strong. But now… Well… I'm sure she needs a place to go home to."
"They all do," Obi-Wan offered softly.
"And you can trust Hondo to take care of them!" He declared, and Obi-Wan found it interesting that yes. Yes, he could trust the pirate to care for the Younglings.
He could probably take better care of them than I could—than I have, actually.
"If you could only promise me one thing before you begin your crusade to rescue the Younglings," Obi-Wan requested, disliking the hesitancy of his own voice. "Could you drop Satine and I off somewhere—anywhere—other than Bandomeer? I would greatly appreciate it."
"Of course, of course," Hondo promised. "I can see how visiting Jedi farms could be… painful for you. Considering…"
"Yes, exactly, thank you," Obi-Wan finished quickly, letting Hondo believe his guess had been the correct one.
But it was a string of events that had played out more than twenty-five years ago that kept Obi-Wan from returning to the Outer Rim planet. Too many burning memories followed his thoughts of that place—the place that so very nearly ended his dreams; his career as a Jedi before it had even begun.
Many times during the first years of his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon, he feared the slightest mistake would get him sent back to the AgriCorps. His Master also had his own share of fears—the fear that Obi-Wan would turn out like his previous failed apprentice.
Hence, the source of Obi-Wan's fears.
No. No, don't remember. That's all behind you now—years behind you. Focus on the present, on the here and now.
On the here and now…
"Well!" Hondo announced with a sharp clap of his hands. "I think I had better go make sure my men aren't destroying my ship, and you should get back before your wife starts shouting at my crew again."
Obi-Wan had to smile at this. "She's very… determined."
"That she is," Hondo agreed with a laugh. "And Kenobi," he went on as Obi-Wan rose from his chair, "thank you. For trying to make sense of all this madness for an old friend."
"No, thank you." Obi-Wan returned. "It… helped, somewhat, to talk about it."
Hondo simply nodded.
"And remember: anywhere but Bandomeer."
The pirate smirked. "Do I get to know why?"
"It's better you don't." Obi-Wan flashed a sad smile. "I think there's been enough depressing tales tossed around for one night."
Hondo didn't press the issue, much to Obi-Wan's relief.
During the walk back to his quarters, Obi-Wan tried not to dwell on all he'd told his friend, shoving the memories down to the innermost depths of his heart. He didn't need to remember—didn't want to remember. All he wanted was sleep, a good night's sleep with no dreams, no nightmares, and no memories.
Memories…
"I hate you!"
"Obi-Wan!" Satine's tone was laced with worry and her arms were around him the second he stepped through the door. "I thought something had happened to you! Don't you ever do that again!"
He couldn't help the laugh that escaped past his lips. "Do what, exactly?"
"Disappear in the dead of night without even a word!" She was studying him now, her eyes intense. "No 'I'm stepping out,' or 'be back in a minute, dear.' Nothing!"
"I'm sorry I worried you," Obi-Wan began slowly, "but I just… needed some air. And," he added with a small curve of his mouth, "I think I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."
"Of course. I know that, I do. Of course, I do."
"I know you do," he replied, furrowing his brows. "But what is this really about?"
"What?"
"Well, I've never seen the Duchess of Mandalore ramble before." It was a poor attempt at humor, but Obi-Wan hoped it would at least ease a portion of the tension that clung to the couple.
"I'm not a duchess anymore, Obi."
Ever so gently, he brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of her eyes. "You'll always be royalty to me."
She sighed. "It's only… I feel so out of my league here. No, I know I'm out of my league."
"How so, my dear?" Obi-Wan tried for a teasing smile, but he was certain it had fallen short of the desired effect. "I've seen you face off terrorists, Sith Lords, and bounty hunters without batting an eye."
"I wasn't the one facing off with them," she insisted. "And besides, the bounty hunters don't count because you and Qui-Gon took care of the majority of that situation."
"You do yourself a great disservice by talking like that."
"But it's true, is it not?" She broke their gaze. "I don't know how to handle pirates, I don't know what to do if one passes me in the hall and makes some sort of terrible comment. Are they friend or foe? That, I can't even tell anymore. I don't know how to respond; how to—"
"You know how to soothe a baby's cry when I can't," he reminded, circling his thumb across her palms. "You can tell which transports are the safest; the most accommodating for a family on the run. You know how to calm a frazzled husband and quiet a Jedi plagued by night terrors."
Tears welled in her eyes and Obi-Wan knew they stemmed from much more than a ship full of boisterous pirates. Seconds later, she was melting into his chest, resting her weary head against his strong frame.
"Hold me, Obi…" She whispered and he tightened his arms around her trembling shoulders. "Just hold me… Like you did so many years ago when we were simply children caught in a grown-up world."
And he did. He held her until they tired of standing; then he sank to the ground alongside her, his hands never leaving their posts.
Children in a grown-up world. Often, that's how he still felt these days: like a Padawan trying to find his way.
Well, I'll just have to fix that then. It's certainly no way to start a new life.
And yet, as he huddled close to his love on the floor of that luxurious room, he realized with a pang that he didn't know how.
For as long as he could remember, there had always been a part of him that felt like a lost Padawan and he didn't know how to get rid of it.
Perhaps… Perhaps it's time I truly began trying to contact Master Qui-Gon…