Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.


41. "Innocents of Ryloth" (pt. 2)

The first reconnaissance crew had come back successful. Cody had been able to identify the location of the guns, but also stumbled upon something troubling. The droids had taken the Twi'leks hostage; and they were using them as shields. Elara had known the Separatists to take hostages before. There had been more than one occasion where she had been sent on missions to liberate them. But they'd never, in any of those situations, used them as shields. The longer this war was waged, the measures taken were more drastic. The Separatists were particularly keen on figuring out loopholes that would stall their adversaries. And it would appear that they'd just stumbled upon a major one: they knew that Jedi wouldn't put the lives of civilians at risk. And it was freeing the Twi'leks that was now their priority. Liberate them first, destroy the guns second.

Elara slowly paced around a holographic map of the courtyard that Cody had located both the prisoners and the guns in. She and Obi-Wan had sent Cody and Ack-Ack to ready the men while they hashed out and fine-tuned their strategy.

"There's only one entry point on the ground," Elara observed. She pointed to a narrow opening into the courtyard. It would mean that they'd be entering from the ravine, which presented more issues than anything. "I can already see us bottlenecking…"

"Then, perhaps, we proceed forward in small groups," Obi-Wan suggested. He was stroking his fingers along his jaw in slow draws, which Elara found oddly distracting. "You and I can lead the initial breach, carve the way for Ghost and Contigo."

The suggestion hit Elara's ears, and her lips pursed as she considered it. She moved to stand directly across from Obi-Wan, her head tilted as she considered the new angle. Hair, still in a disarray, slipped into her eyes irritatingly. With a huff, Elara righted her head, removed the clip from her hair, and started to thread her fingers through her hair.

"It's obvious these droids already know that we're here. It wouldn't surprise me to find that they're watching that entry point, waiting for us to come charging in. I don't doubt our stealth abilities, but it just seems too risky," Elara admitted on a sigh. She tugged the hair at her temples back and clipped it at the back of her head, effectively pulling it out of her face. One stubborn strand, however, refused to stay put and fluttered back into her face.

Obi-Wan hummed, his hand stopping to rest over his mouth contemplatively. His eyes narrowed slightly, and they bounced around the map as the wheels in his head continuously turned. Watching him think and process was like watching a living piece of art, Elara thought. The shifts of the muscles in his face were so beautifully subtle, the way the types of thoughts flickered through his head appeared in his eyes was remarkable. They'd narrow in critical consideration, soften when more thought was needed, widen slightly as something brilliant sprung to mind. It was unfair how beautiful one man could look while thinking; and terrifically unfair, too.

Obi-Wan's hand slid from his mouth to his chin, his thumb and pointer finger gently rubbing there. "Perhaps we utilize distraction tactics," he posed. He lifted his gaze to catch hers, only for them to lock immediately––because she'd been watching him.

Elara cleared her throat and fought the urge to avert her eyes, seeing as she had been caught… even if Obi-Wan didn't know that he'd caught her. Her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to clear it, which left the words coming out of her mouth a little breathy.

"What do you propose?"

There was a half a second of quiet before his eyes flickered back to the map. In that instant, Elara felt like she could breathe again. "They'll be expecting an army; let's give them less. We'll halt our forces…." Obi-Wan shuffled a few steps to the left and pointed to a bend in the ravine, "here. You and I shall proceed forward, alone. I don't suspect we'll shock them to the point where they won't fire on us, but we've dealt with worse."

She rolled the plan around in her head; it would still be risky, just the two of them facing an onslaught. They'd be advancing down a narrow ravine, with a hail of gunfire honed in on them… but he was right––they had dealt with worser, trickier situations than this. It would be tricky, sure, but it was something that they could handle. It's something they would handle if it gave their men an elevated chance to survive.

"Sounds like a day in the training rooms," she said, voice lifting into something lighter.

There was a quiet chuckle from Obi-Wan, a sound both warm and reassuring. He then folded an arm over his ribcage and brought his hand back up to his chin. The thoughtful draw of his fingers started again. "Perhaps you could demonstrate what it was you did out there with the bunkers," he suggested.

His eyes were on her again, though there was something a hair more… probing in them. As though he were searching for something that he couldn't readily see in her. If anyone else had looked at her in such a way, she may have felt the need to squirm uncomfortably; but with Obi-Wan… it didn't feel unnatural to be so gently scrutinized by him. Because despite the soft intensity of his gaze, she knew that there was no judgement there. Just a quiet curiosity. An interest. And there was something a little steely deep in that gaze, too. Like something about 'what it was she did out there' had made him heighten his defences a little more. That was, perhaps, the most peculiar thing about this moment. How Obi-Wan's forward curiosity and his silent defensiveness clashed in a single gaze.

With the reminder of the bunkers came a flicker of a bashful smile across Elara's face. She looked down and pressed the thumb of one hand into the palm of the other. Her gloves were still streaked with dirt. There was still a tingling in her hands and arms, too; like she'd climbed the height of the ravine, straining her muscles in the process. And perhaps, in a way, she had strained a muscle of sorts. She utilized the Force regularly, but had never done so to that degree. Her body was still recovering from the effort it took to channel that kind of power. It ached because while she exercised that part of herself often, she'd just pushed it to its limit.

"I fear if I do it again today, I'll be out of commission for the rest of the fight," she admitted. She looked up from her hands, though she continued to press at her palm, and nodded to her companion. "But if I have to, I will."

For a moment, there was nothing but quiet. Obi-Wan's hand had stopped grazing his fingers along his jaw, and Elara moved a hand to gently press at her right vambrace. Hoping the pressure might relieve some of the tingling in that arm. It, unfortunately, did not. There was a scuffle as Obi-Wan swept his foot forward and nudged a button on the holo-projector set up on the floor. The map dissipated, and took its gentle glow and faint humming with it.

"It is no secret to me that you are a remarkably humble woman. You're more keen to hide the strength of your abilities than flaunt them. But the fact of the matter is that you're strong with the Force, more so than most Jedi. In teaching Anakin, I became aware that there were things not even I could teach him; things that no one else can because there are very few able to do what you are both capable of doing. It is a great asset, Elara, this strength you have. I would urge you to find times to exercise it, for it will only do you well in the future," Obi-Wan urged. He then lifted his eyebrows in a sternly pointed look. "But if you feel as though you're using such power again, so soon after its initial utilization––don't use it again. Not today. For as different as you and your brother are, you still remain quite similar. You are prone to a special kind of recklessness. You'd rather see your own life in danger than that of another's; and that drives you to be quick on the draw. Now is not the time for that."

It wasn't uncommon for Obi-Wan to wax poetic on matters. But this was quite possibly the first time Elara felt as though she was being lectured by him. And lectured about her own safety, no less, when he knew as well as she did that their safety was not paramount in this situation. So she blinked at him, a slight wash of confusion sweeping over her. It was very unlike Obi-Wan to lecture her in any sort of way. She had never been his padawan, he'd never been her mentor. They had always, in some way shape or form, seen the other as an equal. Equals in combat, equals as Jedi, equals as commanders and comrades, equals as friends. Helpful and friendly suggestions had been offered here and there, as was to be expected. But to be warned of recklessness, being told that it was 'not the time' for it by him… it was strange. She got the feeling something inside of him had shifted. Some wire had been tripped to spur him to the easiest form of defense at his disposal––the façade of a teacher.

That steely edge in his eyes had grown stronger, like he was further pulling himself beyond a defensive wall. For the first time in many years… Elara saw the eyes of the young man she'd met upon her and Anankin's flight from Tatooine. The eyes of a man who so heavily guarded himself because he didn't want anyone to catch even a glimpse of his inner life. And after years of coming to know how to read those eyes, those emotions… Elara felt her stomach cramp up in startlement. Was this the ultimate result of her pulling away? A regression so severe it left her head reeling? A regression to something that had never even been? Because this wasn't a dynamic ever held between them. A flicker of fear ignited in the pit of her stomach. And it happened so quickly that Elara knew that it showed on her face; for her eyes widened subtly under faintly furrowed brows.

"I…" The single word clung to the air softly as more struggled to follow. "I was…" She was what? Unaware that putting her own life at risk for the good of another was considered reckless? Unaware that he knew her so well? Elara's head was suddenly reeling, more than it had done since that day on Florrum. But this was a scarier reel. One born of a simmering fear that things were starting to crumble between her fingers. "I appreciate your concern, Obi-Wan; never doubt that. But if it becomes the only option… then I'm not going to hesitate to exercise it."

Elara held Obi-Wan's gaze intently, not having bothered to scrub the elegantly pinched nature of her expression. Something in his own look softened. A warmth, slight and gentle, re-entered his eyes. The tight purse of his lips lessened––and they even seemed to twitch upwards at one side briefly. As though no matter how hard he tried to deny it, how much grief it had or would cause him, he was fond of this stubbornness.

Though that fondness, in this moment, seemed melancholy.

"That is the Skywalker way, is it not?" he posed, voice barely a murmur.

She raised her chin a little higher, and with a confidence that had briefly alluded her, said, "Yes, it is."

OOOO

The steady march through the Twi'lek village was relatively slow. Waxer and Boil hadn't returned from their recon mission; nor had they made contact with their commanding officers. This left everyone more than a little antsy, fearing that the worst had befallen them. That fear incited this slow, calculated crawl. Members of Contigo Squadron and Ghost Company marched side-by-side, following their Jedi Generals, who spearheaded the group. Blasters were drawn and at the ready. Obi-Wan and Elara walked with hilts in hand. The entire village may appear abandoned, but there was no telling what boobytraps could've been set. If there were droids hiding in the buildings, or watching from the top of the ravine. They had to be on top of it all, eyes peeled and ears open. One mistake could lead to ultimate disaster.

Though both Jedi seemed to have been able to set their strange conversation aside, Elara was unable to ignore the newly budded tension. She had become used to that deep, needy pull in her gut. The one that drew her to Obi-Wan with a wicked insistence. But thisthis was something else. It buzzed between them, hummed, almost. It felt as though someone had taken their energies, braided them together, and then pulled. It was painfully taut, like one wrong––or right––move would have it snapping. And that recoil would either result in sweet relief, or utter ruin. The feeling itself was so intense that Elara felt as though she'd be able to reach into the space between them and touch it. Caress it like it was a delicate piece of string. This feeling, unlike any other electricity filled moment between Elara and Obi-Wan, felt unignorable.

Elara rolled her shoulder back a little, feeling the tension start to worm its way between each of her vertebrae. In her periphery, she noticed Obi-Wan crane his head from side-to-side, like he was trying to work a crick out of it. She wondered, quietly, if he felt it too. But whether he did or didn't feel the almost physically painful pull wasn't important. They were here to carry out a mission, free prisoners and liberate a planet. In the grand scheme of things, the two of them, and whatever this problem was, were very small.

It was just as Elara tried to dismiss this impossible to ignore feeling that she heard something. Her eyebrows furrowed as she clocked the sound of pounding. Repetitive and quick, it was getting louder rapidly. And then the ground started to tremble, pebbles bounding and dancing across it. She lifted a hand to signal everyone to stop, and just as she did––a herd of gutkurrs came barreling around a curve in the ravine. Native to the planet, the large insect like creatures were known to be particularly vicious. Startled troopers started to fire without needing to be ordered to, striking the gutkurrs' hard, shell-like skin. But it appeared to do little more than enrage the creatures, who roared at them and kept on running.

"They're not stopping! Aim for the eyes!" cried one trooper, who had rushed forward to take initiative.

"Fall back!" Elara cried. She reached out to bar her arm across the nearest trooper's chest and shoved him backwards. She, too, started to back up and activated her lightsaber, giving it a precursory twirl. "They're not going to stop! Fall back!"

The order went around quickly, and they all started to back up along the street. The troopers continued to fire on the gutkurrs, which started to go after specific individuals. There were approximately eight of them, which, quite frankly, was eight too many. Elara quickly found herself in the sights of a particularly mean looking gutkurr, who snorted, stamped a foot against the ground and charged her. Instinct led her to leap into the air, one hand stretching out as she pitched forward in a flip. That hand met and pressed down against the creature's back; utilizing it like a spring board, she pushed off and landed behind it. It kept running, feet skittering as it tried to stop itself. Elara's head whipped around at the sound of a terrified yelp. Blinker stood cornered against the wall of an abandoned house, blaster in the middle of the street, a gutkurr stalking up to him.

Elara sprinted forward, eyes honed in on the terrified trooper. He'd slid down the wall at this point, arms raised and crossed in a final bid at protecting himself. Twisting her body as she approached, Elara slid and angled herself between Blinker and the gutkurr. Its maw gaped open to roar, and as it did so, she thrust her lightsaber forward, and through the roof of its unprotected mouth. It writhed and screeched a moment before it collapsed to the ground. Unable to pull her lightsaber out quick enough, it cut through the things head as it fell.

"Thanks, General…" breathed Blinker, his arms falling with a slight clack.

"No thanks needed." Elara focused on the blaster in the middle of the street, extended a hand towards it, and then swept it backwards. The blaster skittered across the ground, coming to a stop at Blinker's side. She smirked at him over her shoulder. "Best keep that on you."

A wheezy laugh crackled through his helmet's modulator, and he grabbed it as he started to get to his feet. "Sir, yes, sir."

And just as the two of them turned to leap back into the fray––something happened. The gutkurrs turned away from whoever they'd been intent on attacking. They all started to move in the same direction. Towards Obi-Wan. Both of his arms were extended, hands splayed out. He started to back up, guiding them slowly into a narrow alley in the ravine wall. His face was pinched in a look of concentration, eyes narrowed and dancing between each of the slowly advancing gutkurrs. His nose had scrunched up, his lips twisted in a grimace.

A trooper, seeing a chance to get the upper hand, quickly lifted his blaster; Cody was quick to push it back down.

"No, wait," he urged.

"What's he doing?" Blinker murmured.

Elara smirked slightly, shaking her head in gentle wonder. "He's guiding them with the Force… trying to get them to an optimal location. Look at that bridge," she replied, nodding upwards. Arching over the narrow alley was a bridge carved of stone. "Drop it and they won't have a way out."

"Incredible…" murmured a trooper.

"Quiet, rookie," Cody ordered.

"It is incredible…" Blinker agreed.

Elara gently nudged him with her elbow.

Just as predicted, once each of the gutkurrs were far enough down the alley, Obi-Wan ground out the words:

"Shoot the bridge!"

Cody nodded and gestured to the stone structure, and Ack-Ack––once he got a nod of approval from Elara––did the same. All troopers fired on the bridge, which was quick to crack apart. Chunks of stone crumbled to the ground, effectively creating a haphazard wall. It blocked off the alley and the gutkurrs; and the Jedi who had ordered its destruction. But before anyone could voice their worry, Obi-Wan's form appeared, flipping over the wall with a graceful ease. He landed with a casual air about him, as though it were the easiest thing he'd ever done. His hands batted some rock dust off the front of his tunic, and he turned to accept his fallen lightsaber from Cody.

"Don't worry, sir," Blinker said from beside Elara. "You've got him beat; no one's gonna be able to one-up you after what you did today."

Elara smiled over at him and tapped his shoulder blade fondly. "Thank you, Blinker."

He gave a jaunty little salute. "Anytime, sir."

With the smile still lingering on her face, Elara turned on her heel and faced Obi-Wan as he approached. With an eyebrow arched, she turned a cheeky look on the man beside her.

"I thought we weren't supposed to be reckless," she reminded.

A slight flare of color appeared on the swells of his cheeks. His chin lifted as he cleared his throat, gaze dutifully avoiding hers. "It was a calculated risk, not recklessness."

Elara hummed and tried to fight the way her lips wanted to twist into a smirk. "Is that not what recklessness is?"

His response, if there was one, was cut-off by a rattling sound. Instinct kicked in as both Jedi wheeled towards the sound, sabers igniting. Elara poised hers horizontally over her head, and Obi-Wan held his low at an angle, barring itself just in front of her shins. Her eyes honed in on the source of a sound. There was a circular, metal cover nestled into the ground, and it rattled in its setting, like something was trying to get out. There were clicks and clacks as troopers readied their blasters, aiming their sights at the cover. Elara searched the Force for any indication of what it was that could be trying to crawl out; surely it wasn't another gutkurr, they were too large. And what Elara found had her posture softening, her lightsaber lowering. Whatever was trying to push the cover aside wasn't malicious.

"Don't shoot!" Obi-Wan urged, righting himself as he deactivated his saber.

Elara, too, deactivated hers, and nodded to her men. They––hesitantly––started to lower their weapons, though they kept wary eyes trained on the wobbling cover. And then it was pushed open––by an arm covered in plastoid-alloy. Two troopers bearing the colors of the 212th climbed out, and Cody was quick to step forward and address them. The troopers snapped to attention quickly, hands stiff at their heads in a salute.

"Waxer, Boil, where've you two slackers been?" Cody asked.

"Sir, there is an explanation," said Boil.

"We got… sidetracked," admitted Waxer. His head turned, the visor of his helmet angling lower towards the ground.

It was then that Elara noticed the small blue hands poised at Boil's leg. A shy head poked out from behind those legs, peering at the assembled group. It was a small, wide-eyed Twi'lek girl. She was wearing a simple but pretty dress, though it was streaked with dirt and a little torn at its hem, likely as a result of everything that had been happening. She could be no older than five years of age, with skinny arms and legs, and a fractured innocence about her face. When the girl's eyes alighted on Elara, they widened further and darted frantically to Obi-Wan. She ducked back behind Boil's legs, hiding herself from view.

"I think I see what's sidetracked you," Obi-Wan said warmly. A smile that matched his tone pulled across his face. Elara watched as he approached the troopers and then took a knee, which brought him closer to the girl's level. He peered around Boil's legs. "Hello, little one."

The girl gasped and tucked herself away further, hands rising to press to her face.

Elara, noticing that the girl was still shying away from Obi-Wan, felt an idea ping into her head. She turned and scanned the crowd for Fang. She whisper-shouted his name and, once she caught his attention, she gestured to the canteen on his hip. With a nod, he pulled it off his belt and tossed it her way. It was snagged out of the air by nimble hands. Elara stepped forward and then slowly crouched down beside Obi-Wan. She started to unscrew the cap, and smiled softly.

"Hi," she said. The little girl shuffled a little and prized a couple of her fingers apart to peer through them. Elara offered her the canteen, her movements slow and careful. "Here."

The girl's hands started to lower, browline pinching as she started to eye the canteen warily. Elara gave it a little wiggle, letting the water inside slosh about. It didn't appear to do anything to assuage the girl's wariness. The canteen was more than an offer of refreshment; it was an offering of trust. And this little girl was not wont to trust easily, given what she and her planet had just gone through. So Elara brought the canteen to her own lips, took a swig and made a show of swallowing. With another smile, she offered the canteen again. The girl's eyes darted to hers and Elara nodded. The girl reached out and clamped her hands down on either side of the canteen. Elara let take it, and watched as she brought it to her mouth and tipped it backwards, starting to drink.

"She brought us here through the tunnels," Waxer explained. "Knows her way around them pretty good, sir."

Obi-Wan, with a curious expression, turned his attention back to the girl. "Loonala kwee jannweelo?" He pointed down along the ravine inquiringly. Elara blinked at him, struck by the language that so easily flowed from his mouth.

The girl perked up at the sound of her native language. She pulled the canteen away from her face, which left some water dribbling down along her chin. "Ooh yana-yana!" She reached one hand out and grabbed hold of Boil's blaster and started to tug on it eagerly. "Wah nerra! Kumee nerra!"

"The girl can lead us through the tunnel to the prisoners," Obi-Wan translated. He rose to his feet and turned to his commander. "Cody, we're going to need a distraction."

As Obi-Wan started to co-ordinate the mentioned distraction, Elara looked up at Waxer and Boil, eyebrows knitting together.

"Was it just her you found?" she asked.

"Yes, sir," confirmed Boil. "No parents or anything. Took us to what used to be her home… there wasn't much left."

A sad hum buzzed at the Jedi's lips. She turned her eyes back on the little girl, who was gulping down more water from the canteen. It had started to dribble along her chin, cutting a wet path across what had once been dirt streaked skin. Elara's heart throbbed achingly. It was always difficult to come face-to-face with the fallout of war. The children were always the most difficult to see. It was heart rending to see broken eyes staring back at you from a round, innocent face. Because with one shared look, you knew that innocence had been shattered.

Once the little girl had drunk her fill, she took a brave few steps forward and offered it back to Elara. With a soft smile, she took it, and screwed the cap back on. She set it on the ground and placed a hand in the middle of her chest. Of all the languages that Elara was versed in, her Twi'lek wasn't great, but she did knew enough to get by.

"Jun panqui chir Elara (my name is Elara)," she introduced.

The little girl's eyes lit up again and she rocked forward on her toes eagerly. "Jun panqui chir Numa (my name's Numa)."

"Numa," Elara greeted warmly. Numa moved to reattach herself to Boil's leg. She hid her face shyly against the plastoid-alloy plating on his thigh, but there was a peak of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Elara chuckled, grabbed the canteen, and stood straight. "Looks like you made a new friend, Boil."

The trooper huffed what sounded like a laugh and lifted his arm so he could get a good look at Numa. "Yeah, looks like I did."

OOOO

Elara slowly slipped around the corner of the block of empty cells, keeping her footfalls as light as she possibly could. Up ahead were two Type 1 battle droids, armed with blasters, with their backs turned to her––perfect. Her fingers plucked the lightsaber hilt off her belt, and curled around it. The cool metal and bands of rubber pressed into her palm, and her thumb glided towards the button situated on its side. Two droids was barely a warm-up at this point in the war. She'd be able to dispense of them in one fell swoop. Behind her plod the gentle footsteps of Obi-Wan, and further behind him pad the feet of several troopers. Strafer and Klick from Contigo, Waxer and Boil from Ghost.

"Yup––this is about the worst job in the droid army," griped another, out of sight, droid.

Three droids then––still easy.

With the swooshing sound of her lightsaber activating, Elara leapt forward and slashed at the droids in a single downward swipe. Both collapsed in pieces before they even got a chance to turn around. There was a confused sputtering, which she turned towards, lightsaber twirling. The third droid was on its spindly hands and knees, a brush in one hand. If a droid could gape, it would certainly be gaping at her. It sat up on its knees, surprised.

"And it just went into overtime…"

Obi-Wan appeared beside Elara, Numa balanced on his hip. Her thin arms were looped around his neck, hugging onto him tightly. There was a fiercely protective gleam in his eyes, which were narrowed at the remaining droid. Numa cuddled closer to the Jedi Master, a displeased––though rather cute––glare narrowing her own eyes. The sight had something in Elara's chest clench, had her heart tripping over itself. Ignoring the disrupted patter of her heartbeat, she turned her attention back to the droid. It was unarmed, and Type 1 droids tended to be rather tactless. She and her fellow Jedi shared a sideways glance, and with a flick of his hand, Obi-Wan used the Force to press the button that would close the cell door.

It slid shut quickly and locked with a clank.

"You should consider this the best position in the droid army," Elara told it, deactivating her saber. "You're not about to get sliced in half because of it."

The droid sighed defeatedly, slumping in on itself when it realized it had already been beaten.

"Bin-bin kooneena!" Numa exclaimed. She pointed to a set of stairs that climbed to an opening, through which sunlight could be seen. The courtyard was at the top of those stairs––and so were the prisoners.

"Elara and I will take care of this," Obi-Wan said. He passed Numa over to Waxer, who shifted his blaster to his other hand in order to take her. "You keep her here."

Elara and Obi-Wan bounded over to and up the stairs, moving on their toes to make less sound. As they neared the top of the steps, humid air wafted over them from outside. Elara all but started climbing the stairs on her hands and knees with how low she ducked down. Once they were close enough to the top, Obi-Wan held out a hand to signal that they should halt. Upon peeking their heads up, they spotted what they were there to find––the hostages. Twi'leks of all ages were gathered up in the middle of the courtyard, in a slightly depressed area that was towered over by statues of regal Twi'leks. They were all bound by manacles and guarded by armed droids. The guns that had tried to shoot the Republic ships out of the air were situated just where Cody said they would be. But they had their mandate––prisoners first, guns second.

"Once Cody sees us, he and Ack-Ack will engage," Obi-Wan reminded. He waved Waxer, Boil, Strafer, and Klick forward.

"Right," Elara acknowledged. "We get the Twi'leks out of there, and then we join in the assault."

With the plan re-established, and their troopers at their sides, they all darted out into the open, making a beeline for the base of one of the massive statues. After a moment of tenuous quiet, the sound of blaster fire ripped through the air. There was clunking and whirring as the guns were turned to face the entrance to the courtyard, focusing in on the rest of Contigo Squadron and Ghost Company. Once they were assured that the droids had been thoroughly taken by the distraction, they leapt into action.

Elara peeled out around the right side of the statue, thumb flicking over the button on the hilt of her lightsaber. It activated with a whoosh, which drew the attention of two of the droid guards. Simultaneously, she and Obi-Wan leapt into the shallow pit, almost in perfect, graceful sync. As they landed, their lightsabers slashed and swung, bisecting either droid in an easy flourish. Without even pausing, Elara stepped over the remains of the droid and offered her hand to a pretty Twi'lek woman. With disbelieving but thankful eyes, the woman reached up with both of her bound hands. Elara helped her to her feet and used the slightest touch of her saber's blade to cut through the manacles. The woman exhaled in relief, pulling her hands apart now that they were free. Elara flashed her a quick, reassuring smile, before she moved to the next hostage.

Once the Twi'leks realized that this was their moment of escape, they were on their feet and eagerly offering their hands to the Jedi. The troopers kept a watchful eye on the perimeter, shooting at any stray droid that tried to come their way. With the eagerness of the hostages ready to be freed, Elara and Obi-Wan managed to get them free of their manacles decently quickly. Hell continued to reign on around them, but the Twi'leks were watching the Jedi intently, waiting to be told their next move.

"Wa-janeel! Wa-janeel!" Obi-Wan urged. He waved his arm as he turned, gesturing for everyone to follow. He made a beeline for the empty cell block, which would be the perfect place for everyone to hide till it was all over.

Elara hung back, urging the Twi'leks on as she kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Once the last of the hostages was up the stairs and out of the pit, she nodded for Strafer and Klick to follow. They took up the rear, walking backwards, weapons raised. There was a sharp twist of Elara's stomach as she watched a hulking tank start to swivel around to face them. Atop it sat a very prim looking tactical droid, whose head tilted upon seeing what had happened.

"Kark…" she hissed under her breath.

"I have a plan," Obi-Wan voiced from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see his expression set determinedly. "Will you stay here and guard the Twi'leks?"

Elara nodded. "Yes."

Obi-Wan bobbed his head in return. "Waxer, Boil, with me!"

The three men darted off, leaving room for Elara, Strafer, and Klick to further back up. The troopers stood on either side of the open doorway, and she stood between them, blocking the entrance. A few Type 1 droids came trotting their way, firing blasters as they approached. Elara took one out simply by deflecting its bolt back on it; Strafer took out the other one with a quick burst of blaster fire. For the most part, all the other droids seemed otherwise occupied. And with good reason––Obi-Wan, Waxer, and Boil had commandeered a proton cannon, and were firing on all the other guns. One by one they erupted into balls of flame and heated bursts of shrapnel. Eventually, the only gun left standing was the one that they had stolen.

Elara's eyes sharply darted to the tactical droid's tank, the guns of which squealed as they whirred to live. She jolted an instinctive step forward as it fired, straight at the remaining proton cannon. Straight at Waxer, Boil, and Obi-Wan. Three bodies went hurtling to the ground moments before the canon exploded. Waxer and Boil were thrown into a small heap, splayed across the rocky ground. And Obi-Wan flipped through the air before he struck the ground hard, just narrowly avoiding being caught in the blast. Elara's heart lurched up into her throat with a sickening jump, because there was no relief to be had. The tactical droid had started to maneuver its tank towards Obi-Wan, the massive machine gliding noiselessly over the ground. And just as Elara was about to break into a run––someone brushed past her leg.

It was Numa.

The little Twi'lek girl had barged past her and was running as fast as her small legs could carry her––right towards Waxer and Boil. Right out into the open.

"Numa!" she cried. Her hand shot out to try and grab the back of her dress, and she missed it by mere inches. A terrified exhale fled past her lips as her hand hovered in the air, fingers outstretched.

In an instant, Elara's choice of where to run changed. Instead of going for Obi-Wan and the tank, she was high-tailing it after Numa. In the grand scheme of it all, she knew that Obi-Wan would be able to finagle his way out of the situation if he needed to. Numa was a little girl. A defenseless child; there was nothing in the galaxy that would stop Elara from protecting her. Her arms pumped at her side hard and fast, and her feet thundered across the ground almost painfully. She watched as Numa stopped by Waxer and Boil, who'd just started to push themselves off the ground. And just as Elara was about to be close enough to scoop the little girl into her arms, Numa was off running again. Elara stumbled over her own feet, and with her weight pitched forward in hopes of snagging the girl, she was thrown off balance. She hit the ground hard, lightsaber skittering out of her grasp.

It took Elara only a short moment to recover, but it was a moment too long. For when her head lifted, she saw that Numa had made her way over to Obi-Wan. She was supporting the much larger Jedi as he tried to stand, the both of them staring defiantly up at the tank's gunports. Something in Elara snapped. Suddenly, the world was deathly silent, and all she could hear was the beating of her own heart. The blood rushing in her ears. The haggard exhales of her breath.

All that she saw was that tank and the child and the man that loved in its sights.

Before she even registered that she was moving, Elara was pushing herself to her feet, lips twisting into a determined snarl. She was moving before she was even fully upright. Her right foot swung forward and bashed into her lightsaber hilt, sending it hurtling across the ground. But, for the first time ever, Elara didn't care where the thing ended up. It was replaceable. These lives were not. These lives were precious, they were unique and irreplaceable. One of them was a child whose innocence had been rudely torn from her hands. A girl so fierce that she'd run across a battlefield for fear of those that had saved her. She deserved to live to see a better day; she deserved to experience more than war and pain. She deserved to wake up to warm sunshine, cloudless skies, and bask in the true feeling of peace. These could not be her final moments. These would not be her final moments.

The other life was that of a man unlike any Elara had ever known, or ever would know. A man who could dazzle with a smile, yet say he is not charming. Who was gifted with the most gentle yet deadly grace. Poetry flowed from his lips every time he spoke, even if it was something terrifically mundane. He was the best Jedi of them all, though he wasn't perfect; and he was perfect in that imperfection. He was a man of contradictions, but they were beautiful contradictions. A terrific warrior that preferred peace. A wordsmith that often prefered quiet. A man of remarkable passion, which he kept tucked away and hidden for fear of where it would lead him. And stars was he beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. From that lovely freckle on his right cheek, to the way that he'd thoughtfully meditated with her when she couldn't sleep. Never before had Elara met someone so thoroughly beautiful, both inside and out.

And she'd be damned if this was where he died.

Elara sprinted across the courtyard, feet moving her faster than she'd ever moved before. Sweat slithered down along her temple. Her heart beat so hard it felt as though it might burst through her chest. The air tore through her hair and whipped strands of it loose. If there had been anyone or anything sentient in her path, they surely would have moved out of the way. The look on her face was fierce, drawn into something sharp and determined. It was a look that, if given the power, could kill. There was nothing in the galaxy that was going to stop her from stopping this.

Once she was close enough, Elara leapt and promptly slid directly in front of the tank. A trail of dust trailed behind the drag of her boots, and her body pitched forward slightly to keep her balance. She'd stopped directly in front of Obi-Wan and Numa. Her body was their shield. Anything that tried to hit them would have to hit her first. She was practically gasping to catch her breath, shoulders heaving heavily. Elara glared up at at the tactical droid as though her very glare would cause it to short circuit.

"Elara…" Obi-Wan breathed. There was a rasp to his voice, a pained sound.

"Stand down," Elara panted.

"Ah, General Skywalker," hummed the tactical droid. Its voice was oddly melodic yet disconcertingly flat. It folded its hands and tilted its head as it looked down at her. "Come to die with your compatriots. How very convenient; and predictable."

Elara grit her teeth, and the words that she spoke hissed through them. "Stand. Down. All of your guns have been destroyed, and all of your droids are gone. If you stand down you will not be immediately deactivated."

"I have analyzed your file, General. This final, desperate bid of negotiation is something that is expected of you. I am afraid surrender is not an option; for either of us." The droid started to laugh, a stilted, stiff sort of sound.

There was a clunk and a cranking sound as the center gun of the tank lowered to level its sights on Elara. Its two side guns moved inwards to do the same. A low, grinding whir rumbled as the weapons started to whir to life. The Jedi that stood as their target narrowed her eyes sharply. Her nostrils flared. Elara felt the Force start to buzz frantically around her fingers, just as it had not but an hour ago in the forest. And just as the whirring started to reach its peak, her hands shot forward, fingers splayed wide. With an enormous amount of concentration, she sought out and gripped tight to the hot energy that surrounded each of the guns. Almost immediately her hands and arms started to shake. Sweat started to dapple her forehead. The whirring had become a choked sputtering.

"What is happening?" posed the droid, head sharply jerking downwards as it started to press at different buttons. "This does not compute."

This moment, though similar to the bunker incident, was markedly different. Instead of focusing on holding off a hail of blaster fire, Elara was honing in on the guns. On the smooth length of their barrels, the heated muzzles that had already wreaked so much damage. The ones that had had been intent on destroying them. On destroying Numa. Destroying Obi-Wan. Elara's fingers started to curl. There was a quiet squeak of metal and the guns trembled. A snarl of ultimate determination snagged at her lips, causing the muscles in her face to twitch. The more that her fingers curled, the more the barrels started to shake and groaned. The whirring sputtered out pathetically. A tightness began to build up in Elara's chest, her breath catching and holding at the feeling. Her face started to feel hot. Her head dizzy. And then, that held breath ripped from her mouth in something akin to a war cry, and her hands clenched into fists.

The gun barrels crumpled suddenly, the metal crumpling like paper, and were rendered useless.

And then Elara dropped. She hit the ground, legs giving out as all tension fled her body. Her knees hit first, and then her hands shot out to catch herself as she slumped forward. Through the roaring of blood and the thrum of her own heart beat, the faint cries of enraged Twi'leks broke. With a weak turn of her head, Elara watched as the people of Ryloth charged the tank. Her head dropped once again. The fuzzy numbness had returned to her limbs, and her eyes fluttered in her dizziness. Spots briefly blinked in and out of her vision, making her fear, for a moment, she might fall unconscious.

There were a couple of tugs on the back of Elara's sleeve. She hazily turned her eyes and found Numa at her side. There was a concerned pinch to her forehead as she ducked under the Jedi's arm to loop it around her shoulder; a silent bid to help. The faintest flicker of a smile lifted the corners of Elara's mouth.

"Arn nu, Numa (Thank you, Numa)," she murmured.

She started to shift her weight back, sitting up on her knees. Numa eagerly kept hold of the Jedi's arm, assisting her––in her own small way––in sitting her up. Sinking back on her heels, Elara's head tilted back to stare up at the tank. It still loomed over them, but a number of Twi'leks had clamoured atop it, and were tearing the tactical droid apart. The exhausted, shaky hand of the arm draped around Numa's little shoulders rose to cover her eyes. She'd seen enough violence, she didn't need to see this. Elara let her gaze drop to the guns. Their barrels were crunched in, resulting in the muzzles pointing at wayward angles. A funny feeling struck her then. A realization that she had done that, while the disbelieving question 'did I just do that?' rippled through her head.

A firm hand appeared at her left bicep. Elara looked over at Obi-Wan, who had fallen into a crouch beside her. Their eyes met and she felt a thrill of something rush down her spine. The look on his face was drawn. Tense and hard, eyes sharp and piercing. His very gaze threatened to arrest her, cease what trembling movements she could make. That eye-contact wasn't broken as he helped hoist her to her feet. That painful pull between them, that dangerously taut, invisible string yanked even tighter. Obi-Wan's breathing had quickened, and the grasp on her arm tightened. Elara had started to list in towards him, instinctively giving in to that pull. And then, suddenly––he let go.

Obi-Wan released her arm and, without a word, walked away.

A shuddering breath fled Elara's mouth and she wobbled a little on her feet, staggering one step in the direction that Obi-Wan had just gone. A painful throb rattled her heart, which continued to flutter with the lingering pulses of adrenaline. She watched him go, beelining for Rex and his men, and felt an unsettled tremble in the pit of her stomach. Before she could ruminate on that feeling, try and shake the haziness from her head, there was a tug on her hand. Elara looked down to see Numa eagerly pulling on her hand, pointing to a Twi'lek man hopping off the tank. Briefly, Elara's eyes fluttered shut as she tried to pull any cognitive thought to mind, let alone any words in a foreign language.

"Is that you're, um…" her eyebrows pinched, unsure as the word tripped to her tongue, "kora? (Father?)"

Numa nodded excitedly and pulled on her hand again, urging her forward. So Elara let her wobbly legs carry her in the direction that Numa urged. The man, grinning joyously, swept forward with wide arms. The little girl laughed, let go of the Jedi's hand, and rushed forward. She leapt into her father's arms, and he hoisted her up and hugged her to his chest. Numa, with an arm wrapped around his neck, turned and pointed at Elara, chattering excitedly. The Twi'lek man looked to Elara and a grateful look swept across his expression. He started speaking to her quickly, gesturing to himself and his daughter. She could pick up on some of what he was saying, and came to the ultimate conclusion that he was thanking her. A grateful, teary gleam had arisen in his eyes, and once he finished speaking, he placed a hand over his heart and nodded.

With a humble smile, Elara smiled at them and inclined her head.

Once they, too, had walked away, Elara felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. With eyes scrunching shut under furrowed brows, she bent forward and braced her hands against her knees. A long, slow breath passed between pursed lips. She didn't feel as poorly as she thought she would've. Her limbs felt tingly again, and there was still a faint ringing in her ears. It was the painful throbbing of her heart that bothered her most; and Elara knew that had nothing to do with overexertion.

"Sir," approached the voice of Ack-Ack. She turned her head to see him jogging over. There were a few new scuffs on his armor, but it didn't appear to be anything major, much to her relief. When he was at her side, he placed a concerned hand on her shoulder blade. "Should I get Fang?"

With a dismissive hum, Elara shook her head. She pushed over her knees, wincing a little, and righted herself slowly. "No. No, let him look over the Twi'leks. I can have him check me over once we're back on the Emissary."

Ack-Ack's head quirked, unsure. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," Elara promised softly, an equally gentle smile on her face.

"Right then." Ack-Ack didn't sound terribly convinced, but bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

It was then that a new presence suddenly swept up beside them and stopped primly beside the two. It was Obi-Wan, with his hands clasped at the small of his back and his expression all business. He lifted his brows as he turned his attention on Elara.

"Might I have a word?" he asked, voice even yet stiff.

Elara blinked at him, at the faint sternness of his expression, and then nodded. "Yes, of course."

She had expected that whatever word he'd like to have, they were going to have it right there. That they'd politely wait for Ack-Ack to take his leave and have their conversation. So when Obi-Wan swept a hand forward to gesture her forward, Elara paused. She recovered quickly, however, and moved in the direction he'd motioned. And as she started to walk, she felt something press against her back. It was Obi-Wan's hand. But it wasn't a fleeting touch of his fingertips, as had become the new norm. It was the whole flat of his palm and fingers. The warmth of it was bleeding through the thin fabric of her battle tunic. It pressed against her back with an insistent pressure. It had been so long since Elara had experienced this once familiar feeling, that her breath caught in her throat so fast she almost choked on it. It put her head back in a tizzy. It had her already tingling skin practically buzzing. That movement, that single gesture was the first sign that this conversation was likely nothing she expected it might be.

There was a very large boulder to one side of the courtyard, something that might've once been part of the ravine wall, but had dropped from it many years ago. It provided the perfect cover for a pirate conversation, it would seem, as that was where Obi-Wan guided Elara. The moment they were out of view of the others, Obi-Wan's hand whipped away from her back, leaving a cool spot where its heat had once been. The removal had Elara stopping dead in her tracks, which allowed him to reel around and come to stand in front of her. He stared at her hard, that steeliness in his eyes back and stronger than ever.

"Never have I known you to do something so stupid," Obi-Wan bit out.

Elara, startled, could do nothing but stare at him. No, not stare––gape. Never had he spoken to her in such a way, not once. The words were clipped. They snipped off his teeth sharply, piercing at her skin and––unsurprisingly––her heart. It lurched at suddenly being subject to his ire. Her eyelids fluttered, the word 'stupid' ringing in her ears. Surely that hadn't just left his mouth. A confused smile flickered across her face; Obi-Wan continued to stare at her hard.

"I'm… sorry––stupid?" she inquired. There was a tentative lightness to her tone like she was unsure if he were pulling her leg.

Obi-Wan's nostrils flared and the muscles in his jaw jumped as he seemed to bite down a comment. He inhaled sharply and deeply and then held it, like he was trying to further choke something back down. "You heedlessly threw yourself in harm's why when I distinctly warned you against doing so."

A wheezed laugh puffed from Elara's mouth unbidden. Her confused gaping subtly shifted into something visibly incredulous.

"You're claiming my attempt to save your life was… stupid?" she breathed.

The response was immediate.

"Yes, I am." Obi-Wan took a deliberate step closer. It brought them stood so close together that their chests nearly touched, so that he craned his head forward slightly as he spoke. Close enough for her to smell the sweat on his skin, to feel the quick puffs of breath as they huffed from his nose in agitation. His eyebrows rose slowly, expression schooled into something tenuously stern. "It was not your place to step in."

"Not my pl…" Elara cut herself off, voice squeaking as she ceased speaking. Her stomach turned nauseatingly. "It's not my place as a Jedi to risk my own life to save that of another?" Obi-Wan's lips thinned out at the argument and again he inhaled deeply and held it. When it left, it blew hard out of his nostrils, fluttering the hair hanging around Elara's face. "It was perfectly my place, and perfectly my right to do as I saw fit. My saving your life was not stupid, Obi-Wan."

"It was."

"Why?"

"Because you used your own as a shield!" he snapped, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence.

Elara had never heard his voice break in such a way. It startled her into silence, any and all words dying in her throat. All she could do was look at him. The calm blue of his eyes suddenly quite stormy. A glassiness had appeared in them as eyelids and eyelashes fluttered desperately. The muscles in his face twinged and pulled, fighting to keep his expression stern. The expression that resulted from this losing battle was tortured. The inexpressibly pained expression of a man whose defenses had just crumbled. Whose true emotions were now bared as a result. A shuddering breath pulled in through his mouth, and his head started to shake.

"Have you any idea what I would've done if you'd died?" he asked.

The words knocked the breath clean out of Elara's lungs. She stared up at Obi-Wan, wide eyed, as her nose started to sting. Tears started to prickle at her eyes, a great well of emotion rising up in her chest. It felt as though it might suddenly burst open, and that everything she'd ever felt for this man would come spilling out. And perhaps it should; perhaps that was the only way for him to understand why it was she'd thrown herself in front of that tank. Why she'd willingly give her life to save his own. It was all down to one of the most dangerous emotions that a Jedi could feel. One that she had been warned of, that she had nonetheless fell face first into.

Elara reached out and placed her hands on his chest, which jumped beneath her touch. Reflexively, almost, Obi-Wan's hands rose to clasp her wrists. The feel of them, even through layers of glove and armor, had a shaky breath fleeing from her mouth.

"Do you know what I would've done if you died?" Elara countered, voice barely over a broken whisper.

The questions clung to the air desperately, seeking out an answer in the tenuous silence that grew between them. Elara and Obi-Wan, whose eyes had not broken apart since the argument had started, sought for them out in the other's face. But the answers were clear. They lied within the questions that posed them. What would I do if you'd died? The response: I don't know what I'd do. It struck Elara with the weight of a full grown bantha. That this man before her, this man had feared for her life in the same way she feared for his. It had her hands gripping tight at the front of his tunic. The war-worn fabric scrunched up in her palms as Obi-Wan's fingers tightened around her wrist. Simultaneously, both of them pulled––him against her wrists and her against his tunic. The space between them was miniscule now, more dangerous than it had ever been before.

And that pull between them––it was overwhelming. All consuming. Made everything else inconsequential and dull. Elara's heart was thundering in her chest, throbbing a frantic tattoo against her ribcage. Her lips had parted, and through them weighty breaths pulled in and swept out. She wanted him impossibly closer. So close that there'd be no telling where she started and he ended, that everything about them became one. Their energies, their bodies, their connections to the Force––everything. It seemed unattainable but stars did she want it. All that Elara could focus on was him. The way his fingers shifted around her wrists, how his chest rose and fell just as quickly as hers was. It was like their bodies were perfectly in sync with one another; she wondered, briefly, if his heartbeat would match hers.

All at once, it seemed like everything exploded. That taut string between them snapped, and two things happened in rapid succession. The first being the quick drop of Obi-Wan's eyes to Elara's mouth; the second being his mouth crashing down against hers.

There was a desperate ferocity to this kiss. It jostled a quiet sound out of Elara's chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of him. The feel of his nose gracelessly jammed against her cheek. The warmth of his skin pressed flush against her own. And his lips… stars, his lips. They'd connected with her own at a bruising force, but it was the sweetest pain she never wanted to forget. Every single one of Elara's senses had been heightened. Her skin felt like it was on fire, the smell of him engulfed her. Their lips had only been pressed against together for a second––a mere second––but she knew they would be her undoing. She had always known it. Those same lips had curved into the most charming smile known to the galaxy; and now those lips were moulded against her own.

All too quickly, however, it stopped. Elara snapped her eyes open and found that they immediately connected with Obi-Wan's. There was an unfamiliar droop to his eyelids, hooding them slightly as he stared right back. The look they shared lasted all of two short, in-sync breaths before, simultaneously, both sought the other one out again. In a motion as desperate as that initial kiss, his hands shot up to her face to cradle it. With her wrists now free, one hand found its way to the back of his neck, grasping at it as their lips met a second time.

This time there was something thrillingly languid about the kiss. The draw of Obi-Wan's lips against hers was heatedly slow, like he was savoring something that he'd only have this once. Everything about it felt perfect; felt right. Like the slight chap of his lips had always been meant to caress the softness of her own. Like her chest was always supposed to be pressed to his like this. Elara allowed herself to be carried on the ebb and flow of this wave of bliss, let her lips be guided by his own in this brand new, heated dance. His lips tasted of sweat, and it was anything but unpleasant. It was intoxicating. The scrape of his beard dragging against her skin evoked a soft sound from the back of her throat; the slight burn of it was unexplainably exquisite. And with each languid, savoring pass of his lips, heat started to build in her gut, creating a whole different kind of draw she didn't quite understand. All she knew is that it made her want him closer than he already was.

And in a moment of pure, strange, sensuality, Elara swore she could feel the impossibly unique hum of his Force connection.

"General Skywalker?"

The sound of Ack-Ack's voice snapped both Jedi out of their impassioned haze. The kiss froze, their lips still interlocked. The warm sense of bliss that had cocooned around them was replaced by the cold rush of realization. Of what they had just done. What they'd just given in to. They'd fallen prey not just to attraction, but to emotion. Deep-seated, painfully strong emotion. And just as simultaneous as they'd crashed together, they tore apart. All that warmth they'd been enjoying suddenly burned them. Left their lips scorched in a reminder of what they had just done. Elara stared at Obi-Wan wide-eyed, who gaped at her just the same. Some of his hair had fallen askew, brushing across his forehead roguishly. There was a becoming flush to his cheeks, and his lips, still parted, seemed fuller than they had moments before. Her own lips tingled, and the skim around them burned with the recent memory of the scratch of a beard. There was only a foot of distance between them, but it felt like a mile.

Then, Obi-Wan's demeanor shifted. It started to harden. Elara watched as he started to rebuild his defences, piece by crumbled piece. All of the naked vulnerability he had shown moments before evaporated in an instant. He was withdrawing, forcing a wall between them. Distancing himself from what had just happened. All signs of tenderness had been replaced with that sharp, steeled gaze from earlier. And, in response, Elara felt her own wall go crashing up. It shut out all warmth that she'd been basking in, and left her cold in the oppressive Rylothian humidity. Protected her from whatever it was that had him withdrawing. Her own face tightened, expression becoming drawn. Emotions far too bright and passionate pounded against the wall, begging to be listened to, begging to be let loose. But as Elara and Obi-Wan retained strained eye-contact, she refused to let them have their way.

Ack-Ack appeared from around the boulder, helmet off and tucked between his arm and hip. His mouth opened, as though to speak––but then said nothing. His eyes darted between Elara and Obi-Wan a few times, eyebrows slowly knitting together. "Sorry, Generals. Is… everything alright?"

Elara cleared her throat and tried to keep her expression neutral. Usually, it was easy. Throwing on a sober face in the heat of danger had become part of her life. It had become easy––disconcertingly so, perhaps. But this time, it was almost impossible. Because the emotions at war inside her were strong. They battered up against her self-built wall with a desperate wrath, enraged at having tasted freedom, only to be shoved aside again. They clawed at her painfully, threatening to tear her apart from the inside out. It caused the muscles in her face to twinge. But, somehow, she managed to school them all into something manageable, eyebrows raised, lips pursed.

"Yes, of course it is." A painful lie. "What is it, Captain?"

Ack-Ack, for the second time that day, seemed unsure. His lips curled downwards in the slightest of frowns, and his eyes, again, danced between the two Jedi. The last time they landed on Obi-Wan, they narrowed slightly. But then he cleared his throat and returned his dutiful attention to his General.

"Just came to tell you General Windu has landed; he's sent a message saying he'd like to see you and General Kenobi immediately."

"General Windu," Elara breathed. The tremble in that breath made her want to flinch. A man who was not just a General, but a Master Jedi, who sat on the Council––a sharp reminder that what had just happened should not have happened. That thought pierced her heart like a burning spike. But it didn't burn with regret––she couldn't bring herself to regret it, not now at least––it burned with melancholy. A longing for what wasn't supposed to be. "Excellent. We'd best not keep him waiting, then."

Ack-Ack nodded, took a step back, and gestured for Elara to precede him. She lingered a moment, rocking forward on her toes. She wanted to go, needed to go, but something was stopping her. Her eyes darted a quick sidelong glance at Obi-Wan––who'd apparently spared her one, too. But the moment their eyes met, they leapt apart as though shocked with electricity. A huff of breath left her mouth, draining her lungs of any and all air. She marched forward stiffly, shoulders tense, fists clenched. She brushed past a perturbed Ack-Ack, ignoring the way his eyes followed her with intent concern.

Elara felt her heart leap up into her throat and threaten to choke her. The memory of Obi-Wan's lips caressing her own threatened to ruin her. Jedi were warned against love. They were allowed to feel it, in brief whispering breaths, because it was only natural to experience it. But they were not allowed to pursue it. They were supposed to cast it aside after feeling it brush by, acknowledge it and let it go. Elara had always thought it such a ridiculous idea. A world without love, a galaxy without love would be a much darker place. In theory, she understood why it was dangerous; it was hazardous for anyone, Jedi or not. But now, as the tingling of her lips prevailed, she felt as though she understood that danger better now.

And yet… despite having tasted the threat of it, knowing that it would drive her into the ground as it destroyed her inch by blissful inch… Elara couldn't bring herself to forsake the idea of it. The feeling of it. The thought of doing so had always perplexed her, even as a padawan. Love was what drove them to protect the galaxy, wasn't it? A love of a peaceful, harmonious place, of all the beings that inhabited it. So was it not… natural to feel love? Because that feeling… it was so beautiful, so natural and easy. Nothing about it had felt bad or wrong. If anything, Elara's awareness of the Force had heightened dramatically because of it. Love had saved her during those terrible years on Tatooine; it was something that had always been so precious and beautiful to her. It wasn't something that she could just forsake.

But it was with a pounding, fearful heart that she remembered that she knew someone who would.

And that person was Obi-Wan Kenobi.


Afterword: So, uh… we were all right when we believed that first kiss was gonna hurt real good right? For anyone interested the Obi-Lara Love Theme is "Marry Me & Across the Stars" arranged by Samuel Kim. I would honestly suggest reading the argument/kiss scene with that playing over it 'cause it just… brings it to a whole different level!

Review Replies!

DCDGojira: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

RemiSparlez: I'm more than happy to write more original battle sequences. I find I'm better at writing originals than writing canon ones. Funny, huh? xD So Obi-Wan's anger was more of this sharp stab of protectiveness, but he didn't interpret it as that. As you said, he's traversing a brand new kind of terrain, so things are getting all jumbled up for him. And we did, indeed, get to see him clash with her hot-headedness… and what a reaction it was. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

PotatosGonnaPotate: Looks like you're yelling of 'just kiss!' worked! The tension finally, finally snapped––and now there are new issues to deal with. The last two days worked against me getting this up, but I was happy to finally get it up tonight! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

weasleylover10: Blinker is one of my favorite clones to write, 'cause he's always got a shit-eating grin on his face, he's a secret artist, and he is definitely the head of the 442nd's Obi-Lara fan club. The space-excel sheet is very detailed and organized. Hope you enjoyed the tension break! Been brainstorming it for a while now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Famond: It's entirely possible Elara may end up getting a padawan, but I'm still not sure. It's less so my own personal reservation of 'oh god, kids in a war,' and more that she, as a character, still feels very strongly that her emotional entanglements (or issues as she views them) wouldn't make her a good fit. But characters do grow! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Princess Jaquline Chess: Honestly, I, too, have to remind myself that Elara is powerful. She and Anakin are basically matched (he might be a haaaair more powerful), she doesn't doesn't peacock around. So it's fun getting to write these bits where she gives in and lets that prowess be seen. Also––Ack-Ack as Aaron Hotchner? Um, YES, ABSOLUTELY. I adore Criminal Minds! And when I read your comparison, I flipped out, cause it's so true! Stern on the outside, softie on the inside! I can also see him having the same energy as that TikTok as Uncle Acks. Just… yes. I have so much fun with Elara and Padmé. It is drama free… for now, 'cause, you know… secret marriage and all. But even then, that's a kind of drama I can get behind 'cause it's a decent thing to have drama over. I'm really happy you enjoyed the last two chapters, and hope you enjoyed this one, too! Thanks again!

MidnightReader1: Thank you so much! Writing Elara and the 442nd is so much fun, and I can't wait to do more of it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

RJNorth: I've wanted, so badly, to have a scene where Obi sees her all battle weary (in a state she thinks she looks awful in) and him just being the embodiment of 'heart eyes.' Poor man does have it bad, badder than he knows it. And, yesss, the BoB/Pacific inspiration! It made it much, much easier to write that battle sequence; it also gave me an excuse to rewatch some episodes. And Order 66, man… the 442nd and Order 66… I don't think my heart's gonna handle it. Your memes still make me chuckle! II hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again and may the Force be with you!

bambam411: Elara is my favorite badass to write, truly. 'Cause she's a quiet badass that will never admit she is xD Her Skywalker is gonna start showing a little more, I think… tends to happen to the Skywalkers when they're in emotional distress. I loved your PotC nod! I was like 'I hope this is a nod to it, otherwise I sound insane.' I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Duchess of Lantern Waste: Flirty Obi-Lara is coming! But… not before emotionally distressed Obi-Lara gets a good run. 'Cause they can't not confront their feelings now. Oh what fun they'll have! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

09sasha: Angry/protective/frustrated Obi is fun to write, because it's so… quiet. Like unless you knew him you'd think he was just going about his day, but if you know him… you know it. And I figured that with how many people he's already lost (permanently or emotionally [i.e. breaking things off with Satine]), I figure that he's got a list of people he'd protect with his life. If you're ever bored and wanna look into the inspiration for Elara's command style, give Major Richard (Dick) Winters of the 101st Airborne, Easy Company a look! I'm happy you liked the little mention of how Ack-Ack got his name! I had to come up with how each one of 'em got their names, which was fun. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

thenerdnextdoor: Ahhh, I'm so glad you liked it! I thought it was time for Elara to get her time to shine in battle! It's easier for me to visualize real military battles, so I drew off of a couple scenes from Band of Brothers and The Pacifc to help out with it. Obi-Wan SURELY lost control this chapter, didn't he? His protective side came out in force, and it drove him right over the edge. We'll get some quality Obi-Wan pov next chapter… see how he's dealing with all of this. Again, a lot of the 442nd is inspired by the companys/squadrons/units that I've read about; and even some of the stories that my dad has told me about his experiences. And I'm so glad each of the clones' personalities are easily conveyed through the way they speak! It's so important to me they're each so unique in their voice. Blinker and Gunney, to me, have the most unique voices. With the newly introduced Fang coming in a close third. And the shoulder-blade pat is one of my favorite things I created for them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

lolistarkiller: I was trying to think of ways that Elara could display her power and I immediately thought about Kylo Ren freezing Poe's blaster bolt mid air. And I was like… y'know… you don't hear about Jedi doing that on the regs, so what if you have to be really powerful to do it? And thus… the bunker scene was born! Obi-Wan finding out Elara basically pulled an Anakin had him all kinds of confused. I'm also interested to explore Elara telling Anakin about the bad vibes she gets from Palps. 'Cause if he listens to anyone it's her, right? …. Right…? I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

DojoYoyo: Anakin's gonna find out what went down on Ryloth (action wise) and is definitely gonna be pouty that he missed it. But then he's gonna realize something's… different… about Elara and Obi-Wan and he's gonna get weirded out. I'm so glad you like Acks! He's one of my favorite oc clones to write! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Pinney: I like to think that the 442nd, who thought Elara was badass before knowing how powerful she was, are just sitting around now like 'um, so we obviously have the best Skywalker, right? Right. Let's present the case.' Isn't Blue Monday great!? I love listening to it for battle sequences, it just gets me hype. If I ever get my hands on a lightsaber (hopefully soon) maybe I'll practice with it to Blue Monday xD I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

MotherAiya: Elara straight-up gave everyone a heart attack when she shut her lightsaber off. Her squad trusts her, but they were horrified initially. 'Cause she's got no other weapons; how pleasantly surprised they were, too! Also, war's still young… plenty of chances for a near-death experience to happen… not saying I have something planned… but… ;) These two have quite a journey ahead of them… especially right now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Nerdette92: Honestly, what Obi-Wan and Elara truly deserve is a nice little house on a peaceful planet, where they can read quietly, snuggle, and garden. But, alas… the Clone Wars beckon and the Jedi Code sucks ass. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and that it was a good way to wind down! Nothing like a good read at the end of the day! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Eomy: Ahh, thank you! I think that the last chapter was one of my best to date, too. The battle scene just… clicked for me, finally. I think viewing these things as actual battles helps a lot. And I was totally inspired by Ahsoka's tree trick in the Madalorian! It's great to have expanded media that lets us see different Jedi techniques, 'cause it makes these things more fun and interesting to write. Elara shutting her lightsaber off is gonna go down in infamy. The clones are gonna be at bars going 'and then––get this––our Genny shuts off her lightsaber. I know, right!?' It's gonna be the stuff of legend xD She isn't invincible, and she knows this… and yet it doesn't stop her. I'm also thrilled you've been liking the pace of the romance plot! I used to be very guilty of rushing romance, and now I take the complete opposite. This is the slowest burn I've ever written… and I think it's the best romance I've written. And now… the tension has broken. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

jedani: Thank you so much! I had so much fun writing the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter, too; thanks again!

PrettyRecklessLaura: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

the7horcrux: Thank you so much! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
ObiWanWinchester: Sometimes I'll try and visualize what I think a moment would look like if it were canonically filmed… and I just pictured the deactivating of the lightsaber to be this close-up where you go 'oh, shit, this is bout to go down, isn't it?' I love worried Obi-Wan so much; and he didn't wipe her face off… but he did give in to the tension, finally! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

LoveFiction2021: I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

camelotprincess1: For 39: Padmé is definitely Elara's dearest friend. Obi-Wan and Anakin are in whole different categories––Padmé is truly her best friend. Because she is that person she can unwind with, that she can just be a person with. Not a Jedi or a General but Elara. Even with Anakin, she's still his sister, and with Obi-Wan they're still working through the whole 'we're Jedi' thing… So it's gonna be real fun when Padmé clocks that something went down, and that something is wrong. My figuring out Elara's view on attachments took years to develop. Almost all six of them. But I think I landed on something good. As you say––healthy xD And so the Gentle General title finally makes it to the light of the day! I wanted to introduce it forever ago, but this felt fitting. For 40: Badass Elara is SO fun to write! And thank you, I'm feeling better about action sequences. And to me, conveying the loss of life in a war is really important. Because it's really easy to just go 'so and such number of troops died.' And then you remember… those were lives. Lives snuffed out too soon. The aftermath of war, the true emotional aftermath of it is rarely talked about as it should be. And I hope you're jonesing for some more Obi pov, 'cause we're about to get some! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Shadow Wolf 15846: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
So the breaking point's finally here. It's finally happened.

This went through so many iterations; really, so many. Ask me about them, a lot of them were bad xD Anyways, next time we'll catch up with how Obi feels on all of this––and our intrepid heroes get to deal with even more emotional stress, what fun! Thanks again, y'all! You guys rock!

~Mary