Balance

by seasidewriter1

Elara Skywalker finds herself suddenly plunged into a life filled with adventure, threats of the Dark Side, and the need to balance, not only the Force, but her life. Jedi are not supposed to form attachments. They are not supposed to love. Unfortunately, Elara finds herself falling into a tangle of emotion regarding a particular Jedi Master, all while the galaxy is falling to ruin

56. Bounty Hunters pt 4

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.

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56. "Bounty Hunters" (pt. 4)

There was added weight on Obi-Wan's belt, thumping against his right hip every time that he walked. It was relatively familiar, similar to the weight on his left hip, but different and new enough to be constantly capturing his attention. Each time his right leg swung forward––thump––it hit against the top of his thigh. It would rattle slightly, bounce, and sway as his left leg moved forward. Then the right would move again and––thump. It was something he registered dully every time it happened; and it happened every time he took a step. Because it was the hilt of Elara's lightsaber that was a tap-tap-tapping against his leg, that demanded his attention every few seconds, and begged him to pay attention. The only attention he allowed himself to pay it, however, was to occasionally reach down and touch it. Sometimes to steady it as it swayed, other times to ensure that it was still there when he stood still, and other times yet to give him comfort. For this object, almost always on Elara's person, felt like her. Her energy was imbued in its hairline seams, in the well-kept metal that she'd created as a Padawan. And given that she'd been gone before they'd all awoke, and now afternoon was on the rise…the comfort it provided was welcomed.

Obi-Wan, who stood watching the Felucians farm their sillim crop, allowed his hand to drift down to his hip again. His thumb slipped over the grip of the saber, sliding along the thin rubber strips embedded into it. They were unevenly worn from years of grabbing, twirling, and twisting. From being grasped in her palm and utilized with graceful zeal. A slight frown twinged at the corner of his mouth, which he proceeded to push and pull at with the tips of his other fingers. It wasn't that he didn't trust Elara. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He trusted her implicitly, explicitly. Her plan, though it made him uneasy, was good. Hondo did have a soft spot for her, and if he was going to listen to any of them, it would likely be her. It was the thought of her being alone with him that had Obi-Wan's frown deepening. The man was inherently unpredictable. Not only was that trait embedded in his profession, it was ingrained in his very being. It trembled in the air around him in his Force Signature, shuddering and spiking in a telegraphed warning. Hondo had already attempted to capitalize on the bounty on Elara's head; and for as much as he was fond of her, Obi-Wan was not so sure he wouldn't try for it again. But, remarkably, for as much as he feared for that outcome, for that possibility… one thought lingered more poignantly than the other.

The flirting.

It irked him. No, it did more than just that. It caused something hot and acrid to boil in the depths of his gut. The sensation smarted through his veins like liquid lightning, sizzling and crackling like electricity in a storm. It left his lips twisted in a displeased frown, caused an apathetic gleam to wash over his eyes, and tensed his muscles to the point they felt like they might snap. Obi-Wan could not fool himself into thinking this was protectiveness––which he did, also, happen to feel. No, this emotion had a very specific name. A word that burned on the tip of his tongue, that had a bitter taste, and a dangerous weight that made his jaw feel heavy. That word: jealousy.

It was an unpleasant feeling, one that Obi-Wan could not say that he had ever truly felt before. He had, perhaps, felt twinges of it when they'd first encountered Hondo. His forwardness had seemed brash and impudent, and given that it was all focused on Elara, he and Anakin had taken an immediate dislike to the pirate. But if he had ever felt it before that, it had been when he was very young, and it had not been so previous evening, he had experienced why such an emotion was so forbidden, why it was so dangerous. Because it had struck him blindingly while he watched Hondo reach out, pinch a delicate strand of Elara's wavy hair––the same strand he so desperately wished to tuck aside himself––and push it behind her ear. It had boiled as the pirate's fingers skimmed across her skin as they dropped, as he grinned roguishly, and shifted his weight so his hips jutted forward slightly. It was that last one, that last subtle shift that very nearly had Obi-Wan seeing red. Though, logically, he knew he had no right to feel such a way. He had pushed Elara to arm's length, insisting that they stifle the intimate feelings growing between them. And yet… he felt them. He felt them as strongly and irrationally. And while that, to some degree, threw him off guard, he understood why he felt such a way. It was no mystery to him, not as it once had been. It was because the feelings he harbored for Elara were so deeply rooted. No matter how hard he tore at them in an attempt to uproot them, he could not. They simply would not budge; all that he had to show for it was throbbing hands and an aching heart.

"I do hope you aren't planning on turning that thing on; it would only complicate things," drawled Sugi. Obi-Wan turned to see her slinking towards him, arms folded over her chest. His eyebrows crinkled together in mild confusion. In reply, she rolled her eyes, stopped a couple feet off, and eyed his right hand pointedly. "You're touching that thing like you're trying to make a decision."

It was the hand gently caressing Elara's lightsaber hilt that she'd eyed. Though the gesture was relatively innocuous, done thoughtlessly and without intent, his heart pounded at being caught. It gave an instinctive lurch, jumping up into his throat. It was as though it were Master Yoda that had approached him, not Sugi. His fingers decided to follow the jolt of his heart. They shot away from the weapon and curled into a tense fist at his side. There truly was no reason for him to react in such a way. It wasn't as though it telegraphed his thoughts. And even if it did, Sugi would have no reason to care about it. No reason unless it were to make him squirm, to use it against him in some way, as those in her profession often did with such personal information. But the shift of his hand only proved to make the bounty hunter smirk; but that was enough to get him drawing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from scowling. As though she noticed this too, Sugi chuckled.

"I'm simply making sure it was still there. I have no intent to draw," Obi-Wan informed.

Sugi threw her shoulders into a blasé shrug. "You never know with Jedi––you are a sneaky sort." The comment had Obi-Wan wheezing a sound of disbelief, for between the two of them, she had the disingenuous profession. She rolled her eyes as her lips tilted into a wry semi-smirk. "C'mon," she jerked her head to the right, words spoken on a half-sigh, "you mentioned inspecting the barn; and seeing as my very desirable ship is in it… I'd like to be there while you take a look around."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. Both of his hands swept behind himself to clasp at the small of his back. "Do you truly think so little of us that you'd believe we would steal your ship?" Though the question could have been asked with incredulity, it instead was genuinely inquiring. He didn't know this woman's previous experience with Jedi, if any. Previous comments made him believe they were the first Jedi she had ever encountered. That led him to wonder what kind of reputation they must have now, especially if it involved the pilfering of ships by means both base and contemptible.

The smirk that had crawled across Sugi's face waned. With eyes slightly narrowed, she glanced off towards the barn, and her shoulders rose and fell in a jerky shrug. It was the movement of someone who was unsure, and did not want to admit such a thing.

"Like I said––you never know with you Jedi," came her reiterated response.

A grumpy twist of her mouth suggested that she had nothing further to argue on this point. That the clear dislike the Jedi and the bounty hunters had for one another was reason enough to distrust him. They were at a stalemate, then. Because Obi-Wan did distrust them, and he had reason to. Not only had many bounty hunters had caused many difficulties for them, but with the bounty on Elara's head, they couldn't be too careful. Especially since Hondo had not so subtly alluded to it––something that Sugi had voiced she'd picked up on. That alone, regardless of all other dealings he'd had with bounty hunters in the past, gave Obi-Wan reason to distrust this small group of thugs. Despite the mutual distrust, however, they had to work alongside one another; such were the complexities of war. Sometimes, you had to work with your enemy in order to achieve a means to an end.

"Come," Obi-Wan, ever the diplomat, turned and gestured to the path that would take them to the barn, "allow us to conduct the inspection together."

Sugi's faint grimace lifted back into a tilting smirk. She eyed the sweep of his hand, arched an eyebrow and turned towards the path as she said, "So well mannered."

The corner of his eye twinged a bit at her sarcastic drawl, but his face otherwise remained impassive. He allowed her to walk ahead of him a couple steps, which gave him a chance to close his eyes and take a calming breath. The soothing lull of the Force washed over him coolly, reminding him that this frustration and tension would not endure. It was fleeting, passing. This mission had not gone as planned, but soon enough it would be over. Elara would come back safe, this mission would come to an end, and they could move on to something more productive. For as much as the situation on Felucia with the pirates was disheartening… for as much as Obi-Wan wanted to stay and truly help… There was a war going on. The longer they were here, the thinner the Jedi presence in active war zones was. They were already hurting in numbers. Being four Jedi down might not have seemed like an issue a few months ago… but it was now. With a deep breath, he pushed down the slow well of anxiety growing in his stomach. Everything would fall into place, Obi-Wan just needed to have faith and trust in the Force. If he did that, the remainder of this mission should pass smoothly, and hopefully without incident. When his eyes opened again, only a moment had passed. But the brief meditation had brought him enough peace to follow after Sugi calmly, the twinge of bubbling frustration deep in his stomach cooling off.

The barn's door had been open all morning, bearing the sight of the SS-54 to the early afternoon sun. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had insisted they not get involved, he had been unable to help himself when he asked to inspect the barn. It was, perhaps, the largest structure in the village. It's size and slightly out-of-the-way locale made it a perfect spot to keep vulnerable persons to hide––such as children or the elderly. The least that he could do was pose this as a suggestion, and ensure that the location was suitable for such a thing. But when he'd heard that the barn was to be where all of the sillim would be stored till the pirates were dealt with… he became concerned. Sillim, when packed properly, would sit in large, heavy cubes until ready to be used. They took up quite a bit of space, and given the size of the village's crop, the barn would end up being quite full. Add in the already massive assault ship, and space for Felucians dwindled quickly. The evidence of such crowding was clear as Obi-Wan and Sugi walked a loop around her ship. With furrowed brows, he took in the growing mountain of sillim cubes on both the ground level, and the walkways above. The strategist in him balked a little in worry. For not only was this a convenient place to hide, it was the perfect place to retreat to en masse.

He eyed Sugi, who walked a few steps ahead of him, with the starts of a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. She curved her path a little to swipe a streak of dirt off her ship's bulkhead, then batted her palm against her pant leg.

"What happens if you need the barn as a fall-back position?" Obi-Wan posed. "With all the sillim here, it'll be difficult to squeeze the farmers in."

Sugi paused and shot him a look from under an arched eyebrow. "There's room," she stated flatly.

Obi-Wan joined her at the mouth of the barn, where they both watched two farmers slowly lug a sillim block up the earthen ramp. They looked tired. Silhouetted in the hazy afternoon sun, the circles around their eyes looked darker, the worried creases on their faces deeper. These things were likely caused by a combination of restless sleep, rising early, and working hard. Their entire lives had been overturned, and they were now scrambling to find some way to save it. An image suddenly flashed to the forefront of his mind––the disappointed frown that sprawled across Elara's face when he insisted that they could not help these people as she wished to. A hot flash of guilt surged through his system. It had Obi-Wan's eyes sliding back to the bounty hunter, which dragged him back to the present moment. Sugi was obviously eyeing the block of packed sillim, which the farmers slowly hauled with weary arms. That caused an uneasy twinge to burst to life deep in his gut. With one eyebrow crawling towards his hairline, he said,

"I worry you fear more for the safety of the sillim than you do for the safety of the villagers."

Sugi's head slowly twisted back around, her expression pinched––eyes narrowed, nose scrunched, eyebrows pulled low. There was a sharpness in her eyes, shadowed slightly by her brow ridge. The grey tattoos on her face pinched and folded as muscles shifted beneath, making them more imposing than before. Dare he say that she looked… offended? The possibility threw him a little, his head rearing back a bit as she leveled him with her stare.

"You think I'm only worried about my profit. Is that it?" she asked, voice clipped. Obi-Wan could not help the way his face twisted into something wry and flat.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"So, in your mind, I'm just like any other pirate." With a hefty roll of her eyes, Sugi turned to face the villagers that had just hauled the sillim up. She thrust an arm out to point to the back of the barn, where all the other sillim cubes had been placed.

"Am I wrong?" Obi-Wan asked.

Sugi chuckled. "Not entirely. But it is easier to protect the villagers, and the sillim, if they're both in the same place," she pointed out.

Once again, the strategist inside Obi-Wan smarted. He supposed that, yes, that was a good point. Whilst his eyebrows pulled together, a gloved hand rose to stroke across his jaw, pulling across his facial hair. It would be a good strategy, too… but there were still issues with it. The entire village would not fit in the barn if there was too much sillim inside. The blocks would need to be placed strategically. Extremely strategically. They would have to start over, start lining the walls and building up, and then out, leaving a central space around the ship for the farmers to gather. Leave enough space on the walkways above for those with sniper rifles.

"Then might I suggest––" Obi-Wan started, but was almost immediately cut off when Sugi whipped around, her heels grinding into the barn floor. A finger was jabbed at his chest

"You might suggest anything you like, General Kenobi, but I know what I'm doing, and I will keep these people safe––my way," Sugi bit out. With a lingering half-glare, she turned to walk off––but then stopped. After a moment, she turned back and leveled him with another look. This one intense, yet not angry. It was pointed, it demanded that he listen to her. "Not all in my profession are as evil as you make us out to be. There are misconceptions about us… just as there are misconceptions about Jedi."

Obi-Wan's stare locked with her own, which was sharp, and held an undeniable intuition. Just as her eyes had dared him to listen, they now dared him to ask. And so he did. "And what misconceptions are these?"

"Not all bounty hunters are ruthless and cruel. It is clear that your brush with my brethren in the past has been… unsavory. You have reason to distrust me. But I am not here to take money from these people and leave them in a position to wither and die. I take my job seriously. I make a deal, I see it through." Sugi proceeded to fold her arms over her chest and shift her weight, which popped one hip out to the side a bit. "It is surely no secret that many view your lot as unfeeling. Cold. Calculated. Willing to sacrifice personal connection for the 'good' of the galaxy at large. And yet…" she gestured to him with a flap of her lithe hand, "I do not see that," she said this casually, almost as though she was uninterested in such a thing. She tucked her hand back into the crook of her other arm, maintaining their cross over her chest. A smirk started to curl at the corner of her mouth. "I see you four trying to be impartial; but your subjective views shine through. You wish to leave because you are duty bound to the Republic and its war… but there is something inside of you that makes you want to stay. You do not trust your friend's plan, though it is a good one––because… why? Do you not trust her?"

"Of course I trust her," Obi-Wan responded immediately, reflexively. There was a heat behind the stressing of his words, but it was not an angered heat––it was a passionate one. Something that came from deep within his chest, somewhere around his heart.

Sugi lifted her brows and her smirk grew a little. "So, you do not trust her plan because you care for her. Perhaps you should tell her that. You are both fighting this war, no? Perhaps you should say something before you take a blaster bolt to the mouth and find yourself incapable of saying such things." Once those words dropped from her lips, falling swift and hard like stones, Sugi started to smirk wider. "If you're searching for a chance to say something, you might not have to wait long. Look," she jerked her chin forward, her eyes sliding in the same direction, "she's back."

Obi-Wan could not help how quickly his head snapped around to follow her gaze. It wasn't hard for his eyes to find Elara, who had stopped to observe a pit-fall trap being rigged just outside the village's front gate. Something that she had suggested. Inside his chest, his heart thumped hard. It pumped relief through his system. A sense of ease, which had been absent since he'd woken up and saw her lightsaber on her bedroll, settled over him. In the wake of such relief, his eyes narrowed, as though that would allow him to see whether or not she was injured. From this distance, she seemed perfectly alright; but from this distance, she also just appeared to be a partial smudge of grayish-purple clothing and armor, with a head of wind-ruffled hair.

"You know, we have no plans to collect her bounty."

The statement had all the blood draining away from Obi-Wan's face, leaving it feeling cold and prickly. Just as his head had snapped towards the village entrance, it whipped back towards the bounty hunter beside him. Sugi's lips were still tilted into a knowing smirk. Slowly, her gaze slid towards him, offering a mischievous side-long glance. Though he had just blanched, a hardness overcame his expression. A deep, instinctive sense of defense arose within him. His facial muscles tensed up, his lips tightened, his nostrils flared. This was what he had feared. That these bounty hunters had known who Elara was, and knew about the sizable price on her head. It felt as though a Klaxon alarm started to whine between his ears, accompanied by the slow pulsing of red light. A sense of preparedness rose up alongside his defensiveness. A preparedness that promised that he would do most anything to ensure that Elara remained safe, that this bounty was not capitalized upon again. At the small of his back, his right hand twitched, and his left clamped down around it––one hand preparing to impulsively draw if necessary, the other staying it

With an almost exasperated sigh, Sugi dropped her head back whilst her eyes rolled.

"She's the only Jedi in the bounty database. Did you really think we weren't going to piece that together? I knew that I recognized her… but it was Embo that figured it out. Saw it before, dismissed it immediately. The money is good, but the risk is too high," she dismissed blasély.

"The risk is not so high right now, is it?" Obi-Wan questioned tersely. The weighted tension in his face did not lift. "You know that we do not have a way off planet. That we have no means to contact the Grand Army or the Order. Surely we are at our most vulnerable." The flatness in his voice was a challenge. His eyes watched her face for any indication, however slight, that he had uncovered part of a plan.

Sugi rolled her head towards him, eyes amused under slightly raised brows. "This is all true. But, like I said… not all bounty hunters are alike. We still have a job to finish. I don't double book."

"And after it is done?"

"Still no intention of turning her in. All I want is what is best for the people of this village; General Skywalker seems to want the same." Something in Sugi's expression changed, only slightly. It was almost imperceptible, so small that it could be missed in the blink of an eye. For the slight narrowing of her eyes relaxed. The tension around her mouth melted away. Something in her appeared to soften. "If I haul her off just to fill my pockets with credits, I deprive some other village of someone who wants to help them. The galaxy is already at war. I do not need to make it worse. I would say you have my word, but… I am only a bounty hunter. I'm sure that you would not take it."

With a final, parting shrug, Sugi took her leave, and strolled back down the earthen ramp.

Obi-Wan, bewildered, watched her departure. The tension in his face started to leech away, which allowed his eyebrows to sag into a furrow, and his lips to dip into a frown. He wasn't one to take a bounty hunter's word––that was true. He'd dared only partially trust Bane––as far as he could physically throw him––and he'd walked them right into an elaborate trap. But there was an odd earnestness in the way that Sugi's expression had softened. Obi-Wan had watched for any sign of deception, and what he had stumbled on was something that felt like truthfulness. It struck him strangely. It felt like a trap. For it was a reassurance, a promise that Elara's life would not be at risk because of these bounty hunters. And yet… Experience prompted him to be cautious, in case it was, indeed, an elaborate ruse. They could truly never be too cautious; especially with a matter as delicate as this. They were so close, now, to being able to put this to rest. All they had to do was track down Wyle… but they still could not risk him being tipped off in any way.

With thoughts centering and lingering on Elara's well being, Obi-Wan found his eyes once more seeking her out. She had not gone far in the time since he'd looked away. Elara now stood in the village's thoroughfare, speaking with Casiss. The Felucian elder was clasping one of her hands in his own, shaking it with a grateful enthusiasm. The thoroughfare was not too far from the barn, and with her newfound closeness, Obi-Wan could see that she was smiling gently while she spoke. Relief bubbled up in his stomach once more, fully overtaking the overwhelming sense of suspicion and fear that Sugi's words had brought. But that nagging twinge of anxiety had yet to flee. Though Elara was closer, she was still not close enough to clock whether or not she was injured in any way. He knew her well. Even if she was grievously wounded, she would still put on that smile, wave off help to ensure those that also needed aid got it before her. At the very least, she wasn't bleeding profusely; her robes were pale enough that they'd be able to see that. And while that brought assuaged some of his worry, it did not put it completely to rest.

It was the remainder of that anxiety that got him moving again. He started down the earthen ramp, eyes not once leaving Elara, his hands falling away from the small of his back. And, once again, with every step, her lightsaber hilt knocked against his hip. And with each one of those bumps, Obi-Wan's anxiety pinged higher. For each one brought forth a fresh memory.

Step, hit––spotting Elara's lightsaber hilt on her bedroll, teasingly bathed in a beam of morning sunlight.

Step, hit––the feeling of his heart leaping into his throat, choking him, chased there by fear for her safety.

Step, hit––the sensation that had been lingering in his chest all day; a sort of melancholy ache that was born from the breaking of a promise.

As the hilt rattled on that third hit, Obi-Wan frowned. Next to fearing for her wellbeing, that was, perhaps, what had bothered him the most throughout the morning. That an agreement had been broken. It was not like Elara to do such things. She had always kept true to her word. She honored her promises. And should she ever not be able to follow through on them, she was stricken with guilt. Elara was a wholly honest person, so why she'd opt to lie was confounding; and some self-centered part of him balked at the idea that she'd lied to him. Their relationship, though admittedly bumpy at the start, had taken root in and grown from one thing––honesty. Save hiding their growing affections for one another, they had always made a point of being open with one another. They discussed their misgivings calmly, and had become open to discussing personal matters––something that Obi-Wan had not been comfortable doing for many years. Such a foundation, laid upon honesty and trust, had kept their friendship stable and, in hindsight, fostered an environment for affection to grow. But that foundation had become shaken on Ryloth. It had cracked that night in the hangar, as he drove damaging words into it, unknowing of the effect they would have. And Elara's leaving the lightsaber behind only evidenced how wide that crack had become. For it would seem that she did not make a promise to him. She had conceded. And the fact that she had done so, that she had made herself give in to a request that he'd made did not settle well in his stomach. It felt wrong. They had operated as equals for many years… and an equal did not make the other party concede.

With an uneasy roiling in his stomach, Obi-Wan came to a stop at the edge of the thoroughfare. Elara stood in the center of it, listening intently to Casiss as he spoke. He seemed to be updating her on how much sillim still had to be harvested. The sun, now at its highest, cut sharp, dramatic shadows across Elara's face. It painted her as more severe than he knew her to be, it created a living caricature just with light and shadow. The faint, inquisitive furrow between her eyebrows appeared deeper. The concentrated down-turn of her lips seemed more frown-like. Her arms were crossed, now, a gesture which gave off a defensive air. A passing glance would paint her as hardened and impassive. But Obi-Wan knew better. He knew to look at her eyes, where there was a concerned softness; he understood he must take note of the thoughtful flutter of her fingers as they tapped against the plastoid encasing her forearm.

And these were not merely fleeting observations. No––these were reassurances. These were proof to Obi-Wan that nothing untoward had happened whilst she was gone. That Hondo had not overstepped a boundary in some way, that she had not been set upon by his crew. For if either of those things had happened, her demeanor would be entirely different. A reserved glaze would pass over her eyes. Her shoulders would have stiffened. Tension would have tightened her mouth into a thin line. The absence of these things chiseled away another chunk of lingering anxiety.

With a respectful clearing of his throat, Obi-Wan stepped into the thoroughfare. Though both Casiss and Elara diverted their attention to him, it was only her that he watched. Their eyes met as though they were drawn together magnetically… like they were always destined to meet. A slight thrill erupted along his spine, rolling along it like a shiver. He tried to hide it by squaring his shoulders––and Elara's demeanor turned gently wary in response. With a frown threatening to tear across his lips at such a change, Obi-Wan shifted his attention down to Casiss, whom he proceeded to incline his head to.

"Pardon the intrusion, Casiss, but there is a matter that I must discuss with General Skywalker," he said.

Casiss nodded understandingly. "Of course." He turned back to Elara and offered her a grateful bow of his head. "Thank you, again, for what you have done."

With a grace that would never cease to amaze Obi-Wan, Elara's wariness disappeared. It melted away into something beautifully humble. A gentle smile danced across her lips, and a demure dip of her head deferred respect to the elder. "I was happy to do it, Casiss." Not her duty to do it––something that she'd wanted to do, volunteered to do. Another display of her goodness of character, another reason that Obi-Wan's heart tripped over itself for her.

Casiss left with a parting nod to both Jedi, moving towards the sillim fields. Once he had gone, Elara turned to approach Obi-Wan, crossing the thoroughfare in a few short strides. She stopped a respectful distance from him––just slightly further than arm's length, which was utterly disheartening. It caused that caged part of himself to writhe in frustration. For she was so close… and yet the space between them made her seem further than she'd ever been. There had been a time, not too long ago, where they might've had this discussion side-by-side whilst they walked. Their arms would have brushed as they swung, the gentle clacking of their armor evidence of how close they were, both physically and emotionally. Their hands would have bumped together in unintentional teases, neither of them realizing just how much the other wished to tangle their fingers together. Such a time had passed. Become a hazy, dream-like memory; and that was evidenced in the distance between them, something that caused the ache inside his chest to grow.

Before such thoughts could send a spill of emotion across his face, Obi-Wan shoved his eyebrows into an inquiring arch.

"How did your meeting with Hondo go?" he asked.

"He agreed to give the villagers the afternoon to finish harvesting," Elara told him. Her voice was soft yet professional; like she was giving a report, but wasn't being formal about it. This appeased some deeper part of him, a part that had been paralyzed by the fear that their relationship may forever be stilted by formalities.

That deep-seated relief allowed a hint of a smile to appear on his face, something that might have been the reason why Elara suddenly seemed mildly taken aback. "I am glad to hear it. We made progress whilst you were gone, but having more time will be exceedingly beneficial." He paused, then, as his train of thought switched tracks. It guided him back to earlier worries, and brought attention back to the anxiety twinging in his chest. "I… do hope he didn't give you much trouble."

Elara's eyebrows twitched upwards in a wry arch, and her eyes slipped into a very Skywalker-esque roll. It had him wanting to smirk, because such an expression of exasperation was so familiar; but he fought it back and kept his lips pressed together as she met his gaze once more. "I think he finds amusement in being purposefully difficult, but there was no trouble at all. After a bit of persuasion, he was more than happy to give us the afternoon," she said.

The mention of 'persuasion' made Obi-Wan's stomach twist, and wiped any sense of relief from his system. For he knew what kind of persuasion had been suggested. What kind of persuasion would work best on Hondo given the situation, and who was doing the persuading. The thought of Elara flirting with the pirate threatened to poke the writhing mass of jealousy he'd had to swallow back earlier. Even when he knew it wasn't honest flirting, that it was a means to an end, it didn't sit well in his stomach. Obi-Wan cleared his throat, hoping to dissuade the tightness gathering there. He shifted his weight a little, which caused the lightsaber on his right hip to shift. Immediately, his eyes fell to it. Then, after a moment, he pulled it free of its little hook, the full weight of it fully resting in the palm of his hand. He held it silently for a moment, then slowly lifted his gaze once more. Elara's eyes had become fixated on the weapon, a drawn expression having pulled across her face.

"I believe you left this behind," Obi-Wan said evenly. He extended it to her wordlessly. He offered no explanation as to why he had been carrying it. Offered no reprimand. All he did was simply offer it.

Elara's eyes darted back up to meet his, an unnameable expression dancing through them. The blues of her irises shone with something… guilty, almost. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted softly. Paired with the becoming shade of pink on her cheeks––the blushed start of a sunburn––she suddenly looked quite vulnerable. With an almost sheepish air about herself, Elara returned her gaze to her lightsaber, which sat heavily in his palm. Her own hand crept forward slowly, reaching out into the space between them, fingers stretching outwards. It came to hover over his own hand, then slowly dropped to cover the hilt. Her fingers curled around it, and her gloved fingertips skimmed across his gloved palm. It was a touch far too light, and infuriatingly teasing for what it was. Obi-Wan didn't know if the moment was as drawn-out as he felt it to be; for it seemed to drag on far longer than necessary, like they were both lingering in it.

Elara lifted her lightsaber out of his hand and, without looking at him, reattached it to her own belt. Once it was secured, her fingertips danced along the thin strips of rubber, just as his had been doing all day. "Thank you for looking after it."

Obi-Wan stared at her for a quiet moment. Then, steeling his expression he asked, "You had no intention of bringing it, did you?"

The question sent her head shooting upwards. A guardedness had crashed down over Elara's face, masking it in a careful impassivity. But her eyes appeared almost harried. They darted between his own, roved over his face in search of something. He remained motionless and wordless, and allowed her to carry out her search. He watched as the wall that she'd swiftly built lowered some. A softness returned to her expression, and that flash of guilt or regret worked its way through her eyes again. And then, she shook her head.

"No," she admitted so softly her voice almost croaked. It was not the confident 'no' that he'd expected, and the surprise of that quickly flushed through his system. She spoke as though she were revealing a secret of some kind. It was a voice he'd heard her use late at night in her chambers, sat cross-legged on the floor by the window. " I was unarmed and they escorted me through camp with three blasters trained on me. They don't trust us as it is, if I had brought it… they would have descended on this place in minutes. I wasn't going to risk putting these villagers under fire because of me." She pressed her lips together, mashed them against one another like she was biting back a comment that had tripped to the tip of her tongue. "I… wasn't going to put you, Anakin, and Ahsoka in danger because of me. I… am not sorry for leaving it behind. It was best for the well-being of all involved."

One thing about Elara that would never cease to amaze Obi-Wan was her boundless selflessness. She had willingly placed her own safety in jeopardy because it was in her nature to put others before herself. Not only had she thought of the Felucians, she'd thought of Anakin and Ahsoka––she'd thought of him. Her concern had stretched to those she'd known were capable of defending themselves because she cared for them. She'd much rather be the only one in danger than place a larger group in that position. It was remarkable. It was astounding. It could be frustrating, yes, but ultimately… it was absolutely beautiful.

With a quiet sigh, Obi-Wan felt something in him shift. It felt as though something had, in a way, given in. For his shoulders slumped a fraction, his head tilted, and he took a bold step forward, broaching the space that had been intentionally left between them. When he did so, he thought that he saw Elara's chest jump, like her breath caught on something; though he heard the slight, sudden intake of breath that would accompany such an occurrence. She gazed at him curiously, the mashed line of her lips softening so that they parted enticingly. The urge to reach forward and take her hand jolted through Obi-Wan's system. His hand even swung forward a few inches, intent on doing so––but he stopped himself and forced his hand back down to his side. With puckered brows, his head started to sway into a slow, confused shake.

"Could you not have just told me you decided to leave it behind?" he asked quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper, it was spoken with an intimacy that was almost trembling. It was as though this exchange was either being had in the middle of a throng of people who could not know what they were speaking of, or some place incredibly private, where they could be unafraid to speak their minds.

The question had rendered Elara quiet for a moment. Her eyes searched his, more tenderly this time. Slower. Languidly, almost. A melancholy lift of her lips had her smiling at him in a way that threatened to break his heart.

"If I had, we would have argued about it. And… I believe the last thing that either of us truly want is to be bickering with one another. Especially now," she deduced gently. Obi-Wan frowned, but not because he did not understand, or because he disagreed––it was because she was correct. Elara swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck visibly working. "I… feel as though I have betrayed your trust, Obi-Wan. And for all of the differences we've had as of late, I have had no intention of harming you in such a way. I may not be apologetic for leaving my lightsaber behind, but I am sorry for any unease I may have caused you."

With a shake of his head, Obi-Wan appeared to dismiss the apology.

"You've no need to apologize. You… viewed the situation objectively, as you should have, and acted upon that," he replied. If the situation were different, he might have mentioned her selflessness and how he admired it, especially in a situation where he and Anakin had not been thinking objectively.

And it was that word that Elara seemed to catch on to. For an inquisitivity pinched her eyebrows together and her head started to loll into a curious tilt. Hair, curling into those tell-tale Skywalker waves in the Felucian humidity, fluttered into her eyes, and he once again felt the urge to brush them away.

"Does that mean that you were thinking… subjectively?" she inquired, stressing the chance of the first syllable.

A very Jedi-like voice in the back of his head cursed him for bringing up objectivity and subjectivity so willingly. That he should have known it would lead to a response that would either confirm or deny her question, and that both answers would bring out a drastically different response. A denial would further push him along the path he'd proposed in the hangar that night. That they remain objective and emotionally distant, keep things strictly professional between them. But a confirmation would allude that he was having troubles with sticking on that path, that perhaps he was having doubts––because he was having doubts. It would allow for hope to take root, to stretch its warm tendrils around them both and urge them closer once more. The very thought of being closer to Elara in any sort of way worsened the deep, aching longing in Obi-Wan's chest.

And as that longing pulled hard in the area behind his sternum, he responded.

"Yes, I believe I was," he admitted. The surprise the admission caused flashed across Elara's face nakedly and without restraint. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and continued, a newfound anxiety prickling in his fingertips. "I thought of little more than my fear of your safety, and I allowed that to guide my judgement. In doing so, it must have appeared that I did not trust your judgement… but I do. I always have."

His final words, spoken with the utmost gentleness, hung weightedly in the air between them. Inside his chest, Obi-Wan's heart thundered. He watched as Elara processed the admittance, her eyes boring into his own with a pointed intensity. For a disconcerting moment, her expression was wholly unreadable. He couldn't tell if his admittance had fallen flat, or if it had reassured or assuaged. And then, she smiled. Obi-Wan felt his heart swell brilliantly at such an expression––it was small, tentative almost, but it was genuine. The corners of her eyes crinkled sweetly. A warmth started to spread through his chest, a feeling that would typically inspire a returning smile. But he was so stricken, so awe filled by being on the receiving end of such a sweet smile that all he could do was stare. For all the smiles she'd offered him up till now had been so tentative and cautious. This one was given with ease, as though what had happened a little over a week ago had not transpired at all.

"I am glad of it," Elara said. She reached out, then, and gently touched his armor clad forearm. He desperately wished the plastoid was not there, so he might feel the feather-light pressure of her fingertips. An earnestness overtook her smile, which lessened it, but did not erase it. "For I will always trust you, too."

The warmth that had started to bloom in his chest exploded. His whole body was suddenly flooded with the sensation. Heat was sent to the tips of his toes and his fingers, it pooled in his stomach, and it stung at his cheeks as they flushed in the afternoon heat and humidity. He had been right. The conveying of trust––and having it returned––allowed hope to grow. For a spark of it had taken root right beside his heart, burning gently. As it did so, the part of himself that he'd locked away perked up. It stopped writhing and screaming, and it crowded itself against the bars that restrained it. It thrust an arm between them, reaching for that spark, fingers outstretched and straining. Finally it managed to grasp hold of that spark of hope, clinging to it desperately whilst pressed up against creaking restraints. Obi-Wan was not yet freed of his reservations or his doubts, but he now had hope to hang on to––and that was all that he could ask for.

OOOO

Elara was starting to feel as though the passage of time had suddenly sped them along. For she had returned to the village at midday, and half of the afternoon seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. The majority of the sillim had been harvested, the pitfalls and tripwires had been set up, and the combat training had made slow but steady progress. All at once, what had felt like just enough time to get everything done, didn't feel like enough time at all. Now Elara felt painfully aware of how quickly the sun was inching its way across the sky. Each passing minute slipped away too fast. The pirates would be there at the end of the afternoon. That was a guarantee. And for as much as had been accomplished in the first half of the day, there was still more to be done. The villagers were still getting used to using their farming tools as polearms. And while their ability to swing and thrust them was getting markedly better, many of them still stumbled, or fell off balance. Perfection was not expected, not in the least. All they needed to maintain was a good head about themselves, and remember the sequence of moves they'd been taught. That alone would be able to get them through the potential fight to come.

"They're doing much better," Elara commented to Anakin. The siblings stood observing the five rows of fighters, who had just started to repeat a series of movements that they'd been taught. A downwards swing, a swirl into an upwards thrust, a sweep backwards, and a forward jab. Not all of them were in sync, and some of the footing was a bit suspect, but they were doing better. Especially given that a short while ago, Dilanni had halted the training to complain that it was pointless. That their learning these things would not aid them in defending themselves and their livelihoods––that it would, instead, ensure the erasure of them. That the next harvest season would not come to pass because the pirates would destroy them. It was shortly thereafter that he'd removed himself from the training field, and both Elara and Obi-Wan had stepped in to help and add an encouraging voice to the mix.

"Thankfully," Anakin drawled low and flat. His arms were folded over his chest, and he had a critical gaze sweeping across the villagers from under furrowed brows. "I have to admit, I was getting a little worried back there…"

"These people are passionate about protecting their home. I have no doubt they'll put these skills to good use," she said with a quiet confidence. These were skills that they would be able to employ well after the end of the day; they would no longer need to fall prey to those that preyed on the innocent and unassuming. They were willing to protect their home much in the way all Jedi were willing to protect the Temple. They were not to be underestimated.

"I concur," agreed Obi-Wan. He stood on Anakin's left, right beside Sugi and Embo; it would seem he was still quite insistent that there be a significant amount of distance between Elara––who stood at the very end of the line of observers––and the bounty hunters. "What they have learned is invaluable, and their determination to maintain their way of life will only fuel their passion to get this right."

Anakin nodded to agree, then dropped his arms and looped a finger through the air as the farmers finished their routine. "Again!"

They all lapsed into an agreeable quiet as they watched the farmers restart their choreographed movements. With every couple of repetitions, they got better. The righted mistakes they'd made without being asked, they gained more confidence in what they were doing. They'd come a far way from accidentally throwing their polearms across the field. The thought had the corner of Elara's mouth lifting. Tentatively, she admitted that things felt as though they were starting to look up. Negotiations with Hondo had gone well. Obi-Wan hadn't seemed as cross as she feared he would be. The village was doing their part to keep themselves safe. For a mission that had started off with a literal crash landing, things weren't going so bad.

But, of course, as soon as the thought entered her mind, the cosmic forces of the universe decided to prove her wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, Elara saw Sugi whip her head around. The movement was sharp and sudden, holding nothing observational or casual. It was the sort of thing you'd see on a battlefield as an explosion went off in the distance. And no sooner did Elara turn her own head to ask what was wrong, the bounty hunter thrust a hand upwards, pointing to a cliff face at the edge of the village.

"There! A scout!" she proclaimed. Elara's eyes shot to the top of the cliff whilst everyone else's heads whipped around at Sugi's call. Sure enough, a small figure was laid out at the cliff's edge; a figure that scrambled to its feet, light catching off of what must've been a pair of binocs.

"Kark…" Elara huffed, lips twisting into a harsh grimace. "So much for trust…"

"Embo!" Sugi said the other bounty hunter's name like an order, and whipped her pointed finger to a path that scaled the side of the cliff.

With a clipped 'on it' in his native language, Embo took off at remarkable speed. It was plainly evident that he could run faster than anyone present; he would be able to reach the scout before any of them ever could. By the time they all took off after him––mere seconds later––he was already halfway gone.

"I thought you said that Hondo agreed to trust you!" Anakin called.

"He did!" Elara all but spat in response.

"That's why you never trust a pirate!" Sugi interjected from the head of the pack.

Whilst they ran, with dirt kicking up at all their heels, Elara couldn't help but feel something in her stomach roil. She didn't trust him. Not as far as she could throw him––but she'd had to do so just this once, she'd had to trust him just enough… and it had backfired like the blocked exhaust-pipe of a janky pod racer. And even though she truly did not trust him, something in her still smarted at the fact that he had, in a way, gone back on his word. Though she supposed that she had no reason to feel so slighted; for she had also, in a way, not been true to her own word. She'd told him that she wasn't involved, that she was impartial to the situation. She was very much involved and very much partial to the village's plight. So perhaps they were on an even playing ground. He had lied, she had lied. Their shared false trust cancelled each other out and left either without an advantage. And yet, part of Elara still felt genuinely wounded, even when knowing that this full-well could have been an outcome.

They wove their way up the narrow, sloped path to the top of the cliff, avoiding rocks and uneven terrain as they went. The only trace of Embo they saw was the faint haze of dust lingering in the air, kicked up by his feet mere moments before. Just as they reached the top, they heard a pair of whining blaster shots, soon followed by a boom that caused the ground to slightly tremble. There was a slight conclusiveness to it, and Elara could feel it pulse in her sternum. It was a feeling she had become all too familiar with––that had been an explosion. They sprinted as fast as they possibly could towards those sounds, which had thankfully given them a direction to run in. In the distance, the tall, lithe figure that was Embo came into view. What had once been a speeder bike sat in smoking pieces off to the side, the jungle grass scorched around it in a blast pattern. Elara narrowed her eyes a little upon noting something odd about Embo. Flickering around his form, were thrashing shadows. And as they got closer, she realized that those shadows could only be the writhing limbs of the pirate scout.

And just as they all came upon the bounty hunter, there was a sickening crack. The now motionless, limp body of the pirate slouched to its knees, then flopped over, dead. Elara tilted her weight backwards, digging her heels into the soft ground. As she skidded to a stop, she threw a hand out to grab onto Anakin's arm in order to steady herself. He instinctively reached out and placed a hand on her back, his palm flat and strong at the base of her spine.

"Quick work," he deadpanned, lips pulling into a thin line. He was pointedly eyeing the dead scout that lay at Embo's feet.

Embo turned, croaking out a clipped response as his head tilted––he won't be saying a word.

Obi-Wan frowned, also eyeing the dead Weequay. "Yes… but when this scout fails to report to Hondo, he'll be coming. Soon," he warned.

"We know how Hondo gets when he's slighted," Elara pointed out. She swept a hand upwards to push hair out of her eyes whilst she shook her head. "He's going to take this personally––both the scout not returning, and my not telling him we've been preparing the villagers for a fight. He's going to go all out with every blaster and bike that they've got."

The frown that had already tangled across Obi-Wan's face grew more severe. He nodded gravely, as though recalling just how cruel Hondo had become on Florrum after their second attempted escape. That was when he'd used torture as a means to get back at them, that was when he'd opted to capitalize on the bounty. And given that this would be the second time that they'd ever dealt him a personal slight… stars only knew what he might concoct in order to raise a little extra hell.

"We need to return to the village, tell them to get ready for a fight," Obi-Wan agreed, "because it's coming."

The news that Hondo was coming was passed along by word of mouth, and traveled through the village in a ripple. Soon enough, the area was abuzz. Villagers darted around in a tizzy whilst finishing up last minute tasks, getting into position, and trying to encourage one another as they prepared for the fight to come. The air was thick with tension, which weighed heavier than the humidity. It was a weight that Elara knew all too well, the kind that was just waiting to break, the sort that hovered over a battlefield before the first shot was fired. But this time around it somehow felt heavier. Perhaps it was because this wasn't a battle that would be fought between soldiers and droids, or Jedi and Separatists. It was to be civilians against pirates. Innocents against those that took advantage of them. The loss of life was never a subject to be taken lightly; but add in the potential of civilian casualties, an extra weight always seemed to be added.

To help assuage the gnawing sense of worry this thought brought, Elara took it upon herself to assist the children and the elderly into the barn. She did what she could to help assuage their fears, too. With words of comfort and encouragement and a warm smile, she would calmly direct them to the nearest available spot. If they needed assistance in walking or sitting, she would help them to where they could be seated. Elara was determined that the barn would not be touched. That the Felucians and––least importantly––the sillim inside would remain unharmed. But she wanted to make sure that, should things get a little harried, those inside would feel a little more confident in those that were protecting them. It was especially hard to see the children so frightened. Their eyes were wide and confused, glazed over with unshed tears. Many of their parents were preparing to fight, so they clung to one another, whimpering and sniffling. She made a point of lending them extra kindness, and directed them to the spots she knew would be safest.

Once everyone who would be taking refuge in the barn was hidden away, Elara jogged to join Sugi, Embo, Anakin, and Obi-Wan in the thoroughfare. Around them, villagers jogged about, scrambling to get to their designated staging areas.

"The farmers are in position," Anakin confirmed. "Well, the ones who stuck around, anyways."

With a severe, business-like nod, Obi-Wan turned his attention to Elara. He wore the terse expression he always did prior to battle. Super focused and intense, he was thinking of nothing but the conflict to come; he was devising last minute contingencies, and ensuring that the plans that they'd laid out would go off without a hitch.

"What of those that need to seek refuge in the barn?" he asked.

Elara nodded and gestured over her shoulder with her thumb, jabbing it towards the barn behind them. "Yes, they are. One of the elders has agreed to keep the door open just in case there are any stragglers. Once they're sure everyone's there, they'll close it."

"Good. In that case––Anakin, turn on the fence."

The energy fences that the villagers used to keep their livestock––tee-musses––in their pastures had been moved to create a perimeter around the barn. It would be added defense on the ground; their speeder bikes wouldn't be able to coast through or over it. With a nod just as serious as Obi-Wan's expression, Anakin turned towards the fence, withdrew a small remote, and clicked a button. A crackling sound zapped through the air as rows of undulating green energy beams burst to life. Shortly after the electricity started to crackle, the door to the barn slowly started to close with a loud groan. Elara's chin dipped in an imperceptible nod to herself, pleased that they would all be sealed away and far from the fight.

"Did Ahsoka and Seripas set up the perimeter?" Elara asked. The two mentioned had been given a small group of farmers to become one of the first lines of defense. They had been posted up in the jungle just outside the village, beside one of the roads, so that they would be some of the first ones the pirates would come up against.

Anakin nodded a confirmation. "They did, Ahsoka comm-ed in a bit ago to confirm it."

Shortly thereafter, as though the universe were responding to their preparedness, the growling of speeder bike engines bit into the air. They grumbled and snarled, signaling that an onslaught of pirates was on their way. Everyone present turned towards one of the hills that rose above the village, right where the path started to dip into the valley it sat in––and there, staring them all down, was all of Hondo's crew sitting astride their bikes… and a whole tank looming behind them.

"Battle positions, everybody!" Sugi called.

Elara pulled her lightsaber off her belt and activated it, its blue blade humming gently and harmoniously with both Anakin and Obi-Wan's sabers. The three of them stood, a momentarily united front. She first glanced over to her brother, who appeared to have turned his head towards her simultaneously. The corner of his mouth lifted into a confident smirk, as was typical of him. With a slight nod, he conveyed that he was ready––that he knew they could handle this. Elara returned the nod with a meaningful incline of her head. She then faced forward and, after a moment of consideration, she cautiously turned her eyes towards Obi-Wan. When she did, she found that he was already looking at her. His gaze arrested hers immediately, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as it had done a hundred times before with him. He, like Anakin, nodded. And, just like before, she returned it. But there was no cockiness, no outward display of confidence in the tip of Obi-Wan's head. This nod was a reassurance; that no matter what transpired in the battle to come, he would be there. Personal feelings and issues aside, they were still comrades. They would not abandon each other.

Facing forward once more, Elara adjusted her grip on her lightsaber hilt. A thin, drawn out exhale fled from between pursed lips, its slowness encouraging calm and peace of mind. It didn't matter the size of a battle, the moments before it commenced were always impossibly tense. It was the moment where most everything fell into perspective––that by the end of this, people will have died. That her survival was not guaranteed, nor was the survival of her brother, Ahsoka, or Obi-Wan. This was a life-or-death matter in its truest form, and when brought face-to-face with it, one tended to become frightened… no matter how many times they'd faced it before. So Elara did what she could to steady the hard pounding of her heart. The breathing helped, but it wasn't quite enough. She shut her eyes in the pause between breaths, and reached out into the Force. There, she sought out the two signatures that, without fail, always brought her comfort. The first was Anakin's, frenetic and bold. It was something that she could identify as easily as her own name, held a familiarity that reminded her of sand swept sun sets, the sensation of laughing till her ribs hurt, and the warmth of a tight embrace. The second Force Signature she sought out was Obi-Wan's, languid and soothing. It was one that she'd come to be able to identify just as quickly as her brother's. It stirred the memories of late night talks in the cool blue moonlight of Coruscant, the smell of herbal tea on sleepy mornings, and the brilliance of a full smile so rarely given. If there was anything that would keep Elara Skywalker sane before the advent of combat, it was knowing these two men were at her side.

The snarl of bike engines smashed through the delicate walls of Elara's meditation, like a rock being hurled through a pane of glass. Her head dropped a little and, with one last deep breath, her eyes slowly peeled open, intently locked on the herd of pirates now ripping towards the village. The speeders made combat a little trickier than usual; but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. After all, some unfamiliar––frightening––part of Elara preened, she'd frozen a tank with just the Force alone. What was a speeder bike compared to that? The intrusion of that thought was so odd that she couldn't help but frown at it. But with a slight crick of her head to the right, she let it tumble away. She needed to keep her head clear so the Force might guide her. Cluttered thoughts often led to disaster.

The minute the pirates swept up to the village's front gate, the firing started. The wheezing of blaster fire whined through the air as pot shots were taken at any villager, bounty hunter, or Jedi that they could see. Once they'd passed the gates––with the exception of the one unlucky, low-flying bike catching in the pitfall––the pirates peeled out to the left and right, taking pot shots at anyone that they could see. Elara deflected one bolt that would have left a nasty gouge in her left pauldron, and watched as said bolt ricocheted back towards its firer, and struck the next speeder bike that passed. Both pirates were sent flying as the bike exploded in a burst of smoke and a flash of flame. When both of them hit the ground at a painful velocity and made no move to get up, a nauseating twinge rippled through Elara's stomach. It wasn't terribly often that she found herself fighting organic beings like this; the Separatists favored droids. And whenever they were fighting another living being, it was someone like Ventress or Dooku, who had a penchant for making grand escapes. Her direct, live kill count in this war was––had been––zero. The only person's life that she had taken up till this point had been Gaeriel's.

Elara was struck with a morbid reminder, then––this had been an inevitability. Her killing living, breathing, organic beings had been an inevitability. For her intent was to protect the galaxy and those that needed protecting; and in a war, that often could not be done without casualties. And that acknowledgement didn't make things any easier.

Such an unpleasant reverie was interrupted as the Force tingled sharply around her body. Instinctively, Elara twisted her torso to the right, so fast that a muscle in her lower back pinched painfully. The bolt that had been obviously aimed at her head cut through the air between herself and Obi-Wan. Both of them watched as it fizzled into nothing, sparking off one of the fence's green energy bars.

"You!"

The cry carried over the growling of engines and the whine of blaster fire. The gruff voice struck a chord of familiarity in Elara's head, which whipped around towards the call. And no sooner did she turn than did an onslaught of blaster bolts come shooting her way. They were easy enough to deflect, even though their direction changed a couple degrees every other bolt. This was because the pirate who was firing at her was standing on the back of a moving bike. He was easy to spot. A ratty yellow kerchief flapped around his neck like a banner of some sort, and he was grasping the shoulder of the driver to keep his balance. Most obviously, his blaster was aimed pointedly at her and her only––and with a half-sigh, Elara realized who it was. It was Bim, the pirate who had determinedly tried to get Hondo to turn her away.

"Make a new friend?" Anakin asked, an amused bite in his voice. There was a whirling hum and a zap as he deflected an arrant bolt.

"Unfortunately," she deadpanned.

"I don't suppose you'd like to introduce us?" Obi-Wan inquired with a false levity. A quick glance his way saw that he was frowning, clearly unamused.

"Perhaps another time; it seems we've got some unfinished business to take care of."

With that, Elara stepped forward and away from her comrades, her eyes tracking the movement of the bike Bim was on. Now that she was more in the open, more fire was drawn her way. Even without focusing on anything or anyone other than Bim, she deflected each blaster bold with a graceful ease. She didn't have to think of where to swing her saber next; the Force guided her limbs where they needed to be, and her trust in that was wholehearted. It allowed her the opportunity to focus on what needed to be focused on––and that happened to be the speeder bike pitching itself into a loop to swoop back towards her.

And instead of stepping out of the way, Elara pulled a stunt that was very typical of someone with the Skywalker name: she stepped right in front of it.

On the back of the bike, Bim once more rose to his feet, one hand gripping the driver's shoulder to steady himself. With a slowness that could only be categorized as dramatic, he raised his blaster, aimed it right at her, and pulled the trigger. With three quick whines, three bolts were discharged in rapid succession. Elara stood her ground, feet braced apart, and deflected each bolt with a different swipe of her lightsaber––right, left, down. Just as the speeder was getting too close, she stepped aside in a casual rotation, the heel of her right boot grinding into the soft soil. And as it whizzed by, she thrust a hand forward, and Force-shoved Bim right off the bike. As he toppled off, Elara turned and hucked her still activated lightsaber at the speeder as it rushed away. There was a spray of sparks as the blade of it crashed into the back of the bike, which promptly sputtered out of control, and crashed into the dirt. Her lightsaber fell to the ground beside the bike, still aglow and humming. A small group of villagers rushed forward to start attacking the dazed driver, who was soon crying out in shock. That was another bike out of commission.

"Smart idea!" shouted Bim. With a turn of her head that was frighteningly casual for the situation, Elara turned her attention back on the pirate. He'd clawed his way to his hands and knees, and he was glowering at her. His right side was smeared with dirt from his knee, all the way up to his jaw. "No light-sword, huh?" Wobbling a little, he pulled himself up to his feet and aimed his blaster at her again. "Easy pickin's!"

The proclamation was punctuated by a single shot. What would have been a kill-shot in any other situation, with any other person. But Bim seemed to have forgotten for a moment that Elara was a Jedi, and that Jedi had other means to protect themselves than just their weaponry. For no sooner did he fire, her hand shot up and, seizing hold of the Force that surrounded the bolt, she froze it in midair. It was a feat far easier than arresting the movement of a tank or the gunfire from a bunker. But it was something that still required a good chunk of concentration. She could feel the energy of the bolt, hot and deadly, thrumming through the Force. It caused the tips of her fingers to tingle. There was a darkness to its energy, an energy that's express purpose was to obliterate. To kill. This was what the Darkness felt like. It wasn't cold and unfeeling; it was blistering and disastrously passionate. Elara locked eyes with the pirate and, with a simple swipe of her arm, harmlessly redirected the bolt into the ground. A spray of dirt flew into the air, and smoke curled up off of the singed grass. Bim blinked, taken aback, his gun arm sagging a bit. Elara then took a step towards him, which startled his arm back up. He fired a second time, and as she slowly progressed towards him, she simply waved her hand and redirected that bolt, too. This one scorched a mark into the side of a Felucian hut.

The next step Elara took was quick. The previous steps she'd taken had been stalking––this one launched her into a run. Bim––who now visibly appeared to regret every decision he made that day, started to back up, firing at her rapidly. Instead of deflecting or redirecting these bolts, Elara instead dropped to her knees and slid through the soft dirt. Before her momentum could slow, she pitched herself into a forward roll, which gave her enough forward movement to rock back onto her feet. The moment she was up again, Bim was locked on and ready to fire––only for his blaster to give a sputtering whir. It had overheated.

"Kriffing hell!" he cried. He started to fumble with it, working to clear the heat exhaust, and all the while he was shooting her worried glances as she started to advance on him again. He started to stumble away backwards, boots catching on one another.

Given his distraction, it was all too easy to catch up with him. Elara grabbed the wrist of his gun arm, hooked her foot around his ankle and yanked it out from under him. As he went down, she twisted his wrist sharply, which resulted in both a cry of pain, and him letting the weapon go. Elara dropped down with him, one of her knees pinning him to the ground once he reached it. Still grasping his wrist, she leaned over him, expression severe.

"I didn't need my light-sword to take you down, now, did I?" she posed, voice light. "I suggest you stand down."

Bim glared up at her and, with little hesitation, spit up into her face. "Never."

Instinctively, Elara flinched as the spittle flecked across her skin, eyes scrunching closed, nose crinkling up. When her eyes slowly peeled open again, she thrust her left hand outwards. She subconsciously recalled her lightsaber to her hand, all the while keeping her eyes locked with the pirates. The hilt smacked into the palm of her off-hand, and with a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed it into her right hand. She didn't miss the way Bim's eyes followed it, the sneer on his face slowly melting away. She leaned forward, forearm bracing over his collar bones, the deactivated hilt of her saber dangerously close to his chin.

"You have attacked these people's homes. I'm not who you should be worried about," she murmured. With that, she rocked back on her heels, and rose to her feet. Her eyes fell on a group of Felucians that had been lying in wait behind a nearby hut. With a deferring nod to them, Elara turned her back on Bim, and left him to the mercy of the three newly combat-trained farmers that advanced on him.

No sooner did she turn her back, however, than one of the nearby huts exploded. Elara twisted around, arm flying up to shield her face as a wash of soot, hot air, and flecks of debris washed over her. The hut had been far enough away that the force of the explosion didn't send her off her feet, but it was enough to get her ears ringing. Her head whipped upwards, immediately clocking the tank parked on the cliff that overlooked the village. Through the smoke hazed sky, she watched the tank's barrel shifting. Following its potential trajectory, Elara realized that it was now aiming towards one of the sillim fields––in which Embo currently stood. Just as her mouth opened to cry out his name in warning, there was a resounding boom; the ground shook as a laser projectile struck the earth, sending smoke, dirt, and Embo flying. Elara took off through the rain of dirt, sprinting towards the fallen bounty hunter. Though she may not have trusted the squad of bounty hunters, they were at least operating on the same objective––keep the villagers safe. Over all, they'd been relatively civil, if not a little gruff. And though outside of this situation they would likely not be friends, it didn't mean that Elara didn't feel duty bound to make sure Embo was brought to safety if he were only injured.

All at once, Elara, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Sugi all converged on the fallen Kyzo man. Much to everyone's seeming collective relief, he was still breathing. His chest was moving shallowly, but it was moving nonetheless. Sugi dropped into a crouch beside him and gently cradled his head.

"Embo, can you hear me?" she asked softly. He groaned and shifted restlessly, a hand coming to rest over his ribs. "You'll be alright; we'll get you inside."

The tank fired again, this time striking a spot some thirty feet off. Smoke wafted through the air like a passing rain cloud, its precipitation the dirt the laser projectile had kicked up. It pattered down around them like rain as Elara ducked down to help Sugi pull Embo to his feet. She looped one of his arms around her shoulders, wrapped one of her own around his waist, and slowly rose with him. He grunted and groaned, body flinching every so often as it protested the change in elevation, and the pull of his aching muscles. Sugi offered a slight nod of thanks, her expression one of deep, wholehearted concern for her compatriot. With a nod of her own, Elara acknowledged, silently, that she understood. She couldn't count the number of times she'd had to support one of her comrades in such a way.

"Everyone, fall back to the barn!" Obi-Wan barked, voice going all rough and grumbly as he shouted.

"That tank is going to tear the villagers apart!" Sugi lamented. Genuinely lamented, as though the thought was breaking her heart.

"Can you hold him?" Elara asked quickly.

"Of course I can."

Elara carefully removed Embo's arm from around her shoulders and withdrew hers from around his torso. Several more shots were fired off from the tank, each one peppering a different area of the village. Craters were starting to form in the ground, ripping up homes, sillim fields, and roads alike. Elara turned her attention to the tank, lips thinning out. On the wind, she could hear the familiar cackling of none other than Hondo, who was surely the one operating the vehicle. Something cool settled in her veins calmly. A kind of resolve, a determination, a plan.

"Elara," Anakin's voice was falsely pleasant as he stepped forward, head tilted back to also stare up at the cliff, "please tell me you're thinking what I'm thinking."

Despite herself, she couldn't help the smirk that twitched at the corner of her mouth. She spared her brother a side-long glance. "I dare say we might actually be on the same page," she agreed calmly.

"Good. Then let's go for it."

Without warning––which was likely much to Obi-Wan's chagrin––both of the Skywalkers took off at a dead sprint towards the cliff face. Elara activated her lightsaber several steps into the run, keeping it angled downwards and away from herself. The tip of it sizzled and hissed as it cut through some of the long grass at the side of the road. Beside her, Anakin mirrored the action, which promptly put a big target on the both of them; for, up above, the tank angled its barrel down at them clunkily. It fired and instead of hitting them, it hit a Felucian sitting astride a tee-muss. Both hit the ground with violent force, unmoving––and, despite himself, Anakin skid to a stop to check if the farmer had a pulse. Elara kept running, however, knowing that she would draw fire away from her brother and the retreating villagers if she just kept moving forward.

This assumption proved true, as the ground erupted in a spray of dirt several feet in front of her. Elara couldn't do much more than hunch her shoulders, duck her head, and keep running. The moment that her toes tilted forward further than normal, just about to send her sprawling into the newly created crater, she propelled herself upwards. In a Force aided jump, Elara sailed up into the air, through the cloud of smoke and organic debris. Through the air whistling past her ears, she could hear Hondo's cry of "Die, Jedi scum!" The arc of her leap landed her right on the edge of the cliff in a graceful crouch. Her ankles and knees stung a little from the impact of the landing, but it wasn't anything too terrible. Elara rose out of her crouch, twirled her saber, and leveled an unamused look up at Hondo.

"Scum? I thought we were friends," she drawled.

With a dark chuckle, Hondo––who was sitting in the gunner's exterior seat––grinned down at her. "Do not test me, my dear." He rose to his feet and withdrew an electrostaff that had been tucked in beside him. It crackled to life, violently undulating ribbons of violet electricity surrounding each end. He spun it with expert precision and leveled one end of it down at her. His grin tilted into a borderline cruel smirk. "You do remember how much I like electricity, no?"

That statement was swiftly followed by a jab of the staff, with Elara parried with a quick flourish of her lightsaber. Electrostaffs were no joke. They'd been designed, specifically, to withstand lightsaber strikes. If it touched her for so much as a handful of seconds, the charge of electricity would easily stop her heart. This fight was all going to be about precision. No fancy evasions, no flowery footwork; she'd need to keep her eyes on either end of the staff as much as she could.

Elara made quick work of leaping up onto the tank, bringing her blade down on Hondo as she did so. He thrust his staff upwards, barring it from striking him. The minute her feet touched down on the tank, Hondo swept a leg out and pulled them out from under her. For as much as instinct had her wanting to scrunch her eyes closed as she fell, she knew she could not afford to. Because the minute she was in a position of disadvantage, the pirate captain was bringing the staff down on her like it was a spear. With eyes going wide, Elara threw herself sideways, which resulted in her toppling straight off the edge of the tank. All the air left her lungs as she hit the ground stomach first. Just as she whipped around to roll onto her back, she saw the staff coming down on her––only for it to be blocked by another lightsaber. Anakin, who must've just landed atop the tank, had lunged forward to prevent her inevitable doom.

"Watch it," Anakin hissed. He swept his saber in an arc, drawing the staff away from her, then leaned back on one foot and kicked Hondo square in the stomach.

"Skywalkers…" Hondo wheezed, stumbling backwards. "Never one without the other." He then launched himself at Anakin, spinning the staff over his head before he swung it down at the Jedi Knight. It was blocked easily, and both men entered a back-and-forth combat on top of the tank.

Elara pulled herself to her feet and was about to leap back into the fray when she caught ear of something. It was a low whirring sound, accompanied by a handful of incremental clicking noises. That was the sound of a moving gun port. Her head whipped around and watched as the tank's barrel swiveled towards the barn. Without thinking, Elara thrust her hand forward, and honed her focus in on the gun port. She willed the Force to concentrate around the port, her hand going painfully tense as she did so. Once she felt it curl itself around it, she gave a swift yank of her hand, letting out a shout as she did so. The barrel was wrenched all the way to the left just as it fired. It's projectile struck an empty spot on the far side of the village. Elara panted out a relieved breath, slumping forward slightly as her hand dropped.

With a grimace, Elara turned her attention back to battle happening atop the tank. Anakin had momentarily disengaged, and was instead dropped into a crouch and thrusting his lightsaber into one of the narrow eyelets that let into the inside of the tank. An indignant squawk rattled out from inside––and with a groan, Elara realized what had moved the tank. Hondo's Kowakian lizard-monkey. Before Anakin could take another stab, Hondo shoved the staff forward to block the hit. With the pirate momentarily distracted, Elara snuck up onto the tank behind him, hoping she might be able to dive into the tank through the gunner's seat. But no sooner did she try to move past Hondo did he trip her for a second time. Her ribs screamed in protest as they made impact with the metal edge of the lip that protected the gunner's seat. She was about to tip forward and let herself drop in when––

"Ah, ah, ah!" An arm looped around her waist and hauled her upwards and backwards. "Can't have you ruining all of my fun, now, can I?" Hondo drawled into her ear.

A grimace tore its way across Elara's face and her elbow flew up and backwards, straight into the pirate's nose. A gargled cry of pain left his mouth. His arm loosened around her waist as, simultaneously, the tank fired another shot and then started to shudder and sway beneath them. Wobbling as though he'd had one too many glasses of spotchka, Hondo whirled around on Elara and swung the staff at her again. She first blocked a hit from the right end, then the left. She feinted a hit at his right side, and as he went to block it, she twirled her lightsaber around, raised it, and brought it arcing down towards him. Hondo was quick, however, and took the opportunity to give her a good kick in the ribs. She went down for a third, frustrating time, crying out in pain. The heel of his boot had hit particularly hard, and now each time she breathed in, a sharp pain rippled through her midsection.

The tank had stopped wobbling, and out of the corner of watery eyes, Elara clocked the lizard-monkey scrambling out of its hidey-hole. It scrabbled over Hondo's boot, attached itself to Anakin's leg, and started to bite him. He let out a grunted sound of pain, kicked his leg out, and flung the creature off with a growled,

"Get off me!"

Hondo took another swing at him, but Anakin jumped to avoid it, promptly flipping off of the tank. Elara slowly pulled herself to her feet, grimacing as the pain in her ribcage smarted. One arm momentarily wrapped itself around her middle, applying a soothing pressure, and the other kept her lightsaber activated and at her side. She tried to move as slowly and quietly as possible, inching up behind Hondo as he distracted himself with her brother.

"Your situation is hopeless, Skywalker," he drawled. And with a slight jerk of his head, the lizard-monkey made its reappearance and launched itself at, and attached itself to, Anakin's face.

It was then, with a move that would have made the girls she'd worked with at Gardulla's cantina proud, that Elara grabbed hold of both of Hondo's braids. With a swift yank, she wrenched him both backwards and off balance. He again cried out in pain, his head cocking backwards at an unpleasant angle. With him pulled back against her chest, she turned her head in towards his ear.

"Do you call this hopeless?" she whispered before she let go, took a step back, and planted her foot in the middle of his back. With a shove, she knocked him off the front of the tank, watching––admittedly a little satisfied––as he toppled to the ground. The electrostaff rolled out of his hands, coming to rest only a half foot away. Elara took this opportunity to leap off after him, dropping so that one of her knees pinned itself against his stomach. Her saber arm came forward to bar the blade across his throat, a present threat for him not to move.

An insufferable smirk pulled across Hondo's face, much to her displeasure.

"I did not know you liked things so rough, Pretty Jedi," he half-chuckled, half groaned.

Just as Elara hurled her eyes into a long-suffering roll, she heard Anakin grunt. Sisterly instinct drove her to distraction, her attention immediately shifting to her sibling. He had just managed to rip the lizard-monkey off his face, only for it to bite his hand, break free, and drop to start gnawing on his leg again. This was distraction enough for Hondo to tear her arm and lightsaber away from his neck; and just as her head whipped around towards him, his rocketed forward to slam the edge of his helmet against her forehead. The pain that it caused was blinding. The sound of the helmet cracking against her skull reverberated through her head, briefly caused her ears to ring, and had her rocking backwards. Hondo, again, used this distraction to his advantage and shoved her fully off of him, which left her body a crumpled heap on the ground.

Both Elara's head and ribs were throbbing. A grimace had torn its way across her face, gnarling her lips into an expression that bared her teeth. With a hand pressed to her forehead, she managed to push herself up onto her knees; she pried her eyes open just in time to watch Anakin hurl the lizard-monkey in the air, lightsaber reared back like a bat––his intent was clear. Hondo, with the electrostaff back in his hands, leapt forward to block the hit, saving his precious pet. Anakin, clearly having had enough of all this, ducked, shoved his shoulder into Hondo's stomach, and flipped the pirate over his back. The electrostaff skittered off to the side and Hondo went rolling––right towards the edge of the cliff. He scrambled, eyes wide and panicked as his body slipped off, his arms scrambling to find purchase. He managed to stop his fall… just barely.

Anakin turned towards Elara and extended his free hand, proffering his assistance. With a thankful nod, Elara took it, got her feet underneath herself, and let him pull her up. Once she was up, Anakin's hand jumped to her shoulder, which he grasped tightly; his eyebrows were furrowed in silent question––are you alright? With a little huff, she offered her answer by way of a nod. Her head was throbbing and her ribs ached, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't live with. A frantic sound drew both of their attention to the edge of the cliff, where Hondo was still scrambling to keep himself from plummeting to the ground.

"Help me!" he cried. One of his hands pleadingly extended towards both Jedi, which only resulted in him slipping further, which had him slapping that arm back down. A fall from the height of the cliff would be deadly if one didn't have a means––such as the Force––to aid their landing. Hondo did not have such an advantage. His eyes started to dance between Elara and Anakin rapidly. "Skywalker… Pretty Jedi… let me call off my men."

Again, he extended his hand––an apparent call for a truce. A bid for them to save his life. For as much of a pain as Hondo had been––and for as many times he'd knocked her to the ground––they couldn't just let him die. It would be vindictive and cruel, and the very thought of it stirred up a swirl of guilt in the pit of Elara's aching stomach. And though she hated to admit it… Hondo was a man of his word. Sometimes in the worst ways possible, but when he made a promise of any kind, he seemed to be keen on following it up. Beside her, Anakin deactivated his lightsaber. He hooked it onto his belt and took a step towards the edge of the cliff; when Elara moved to follow, he waved her off.

"Don't strain yourself," he ordered gently.

Elara shot him a thankful half-smile, something that he returned before he dropped into a half crouch and took hold of Hondo's hand. With a couple of strained grunts, he managed to pull the pirate back onto the cliff top. For a moment, everything seemed calm. Hondo, back on his feet, batted some dirt off his prized coat and smiled at Anakin thankfully––a look that quickly morphed into something conniving as he lunged forward, planted his hands on the Jedi's chest and shoved. Eyes wide, Elara turned and watched as her brother stumbled right into the path of the tank's shifting gun port. Her heart gave a painful, terrified wrench, unadulterated panic crashing through her system.

"No!" she screamed, voice cracking in its vehemence. She'd lurched a step forward instinctively, muscles coiling in preparation to shove him out of the way. It didn't matter if she got hit, all that mattered was that he survived. But before Elara could willingly thrust herself into harm's way, Hondo wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her back into his chest, preventing her from doing so.

Moments––no, seconds before it fired, Anakin leapt into the air. The moment his feet had left the ground, the laser bolt had obliterated where he'd been standing. Anakin flipped in midair and sent himself sailing off the cliff, a fall that he could survive, given that the Force would cushion his fall. But the whole event of it was so paralyzing that all Elara could do was stare at where he had been standing. If he'd been there, he would have been dead. He would have been more than dead; he'd have been nothing but a spray of viscera embedded in the jungle soil.

"I am sorry that it has to come to this, my dear," Hondo sighed regretfully from behind her. Elara's eyebrows furrowed and, instead of struggling, she twisted her head around to stare at him, confused. The pirate clucked his tongue a few times and shook his head, tutting at her. "I'm afraid that I must now take my leave. You know how fond I am of you––so very fond, you mustn't forget that––and for as much as I would like to take you with me, you are better off with your comrades… down there!"

Those last two words were half-yelled, and as he shouted them, he heaved all of his weight sideways, swinging her around. Before Elara could register what was happening, Hondo's arms disappeared and she was stumbling over her own feet––and right off the edge of the cliff.

The sensation of falling was always unpleasant, especially when it was unexpected. The feeling was so unique that it didn't take long for Elara to realize that she was plummeting through the air. Wind whipped past her ears in a roar, her hair was whipping in a mess around her face, and her stomach felt like it had already hit the ground. Jedi could survive a fall like this, but like all things, it wasn't a guarantee. There were Jedi who had died from falling from a great height. Sometimes things happened too quickly for one to formulate a plan. And such was what had just happened. Elara hadn't been given a chance to prepare for a fall from such a height, and she had limited time before she crashed to the earth below. She was at a great disadvantage. So there was only one thing that she could do in this moment––and that was trust in the Force. So with the terrifying knowledge that her back may collide with solid ground at any moment––and that it would be her certain demise––she closed her eyes, and just let herself fall.

Moments later, Elara did crash into something, but it wasn't the ground. It was another body. The impact was softer than she would have expected, considering the height that she'd fallen from. But the lightness of said impact wasn't enough to keep both herself and her rescuer from crashing to the ground. All of the air––or what was left of it––in her lungs fled in a graceless oof, and whomever had caught her grunted beneath her. Whatever calm the Force had lent her in those final moments of falling disappeared, and left Elara's heart pounding, her lungs gasping for breath, and her eyes flying open. She jolted hard against her savior, whose arms were tightly wrapped around her shoulders and legs, the way one might cradle someone to their chest. Through the dissipating ringing in her ears, Elara could hear Hondo's voice call out one parting statement:

"This effort is no longer profitable!"

After regaining herself for a moment, head spinning, and heart pounding in her ears, she craned her head back to see who it was that had caught her.

Lying beneath her was none other than Obi-Wan. His hair was a messy sprawl across his forehead, his eyes were scrunched closed, and he was breathing just as hard as she was. There was a grimace twisted across his lips, one that appeared almost pained. And despite the fact that she'd just been thrown off a cliff, the first thing that Elara's concern jumped to was him. Forgetting every apprehension she should have about doing it, she took her hand––which had started to shake as the adrenaline disappeared––and placed it against his cheek. The moment her palm made contact with his skin, his eyes shot open. His head rolled towards her and their eyes met, both totally silent. The warmth of his skin against hers brought insurmountable comfort. It calmed the racing of her heart. It helped her catch her breath. Everything about him calmed her, from the softness of his gaze to the sweet, musky smell that clung to him, even through all of the sweat and dirt.

"Are you alright?" she asked breathlessly. Her thumb stroked a worried caress over his cheekbone, shaking as it moved along its path.

"I believe I should be the one asking you that…" he replied, equally as breathy. The sound of it in such a state had a shiver running down along her spine. "Here…"

Obi-Wan slipped his arm out from under her legs, braced it on the ground, and started to push himself up. All the while, they both maintained each other's gaze. Elara let her hand slide down from his cheek to rest on his shoulder, fingers skimming over the gentle roughness of his beard, and along the tender skin of his neck. The arm that he'd had wrapped around her shoulders slipped so it braced across her back, the flat of his palm pressed firmly against her spine. Once they were both properly sat up, neither of them moved to let the other go. After a quiet moment, Obi-Wan's eyes briefly flickered down towards her lips before they leapt right back up to meet her eyes again. It was remarkable how such a simple movement had her heart crawling up into her throat, and had her fingers curling hard against his gorget. She couldn't help but wish this situation were wholly different. That they were not on Felucia and instead somewhere private, that the differences between them had been settled. Because there was nothing more that she wished to do in that moment than just hold him and be held, to feel his breath and the scratch of his against her skin. To feel the silky pull of his hair through her fingers. Her heart ached for it. Her body yearned for it. This moment was a tease, a reminder of what she wanted and what she could not have… and she wanted to linger in it for as long as possible.

"Are you alright?" he asked. This time, he'd managed to catch his breath, but his voice was low and quiet.

Elara nodded, feeling as though she were hypnotized in some way, not once letting her eyes drift away from his. "I am," she confirmed. "And you?"

Obi-Wan's chin dipped into the slightest of nods. "Yes." After a moment, his eyebrows started to pull into the slightest of furrows. "Why did you not try and save yourself?"

"I chose to trust in the Force…" she revealed. A flicker of a smile worked its way shakily across her face. The words that fell from her mouth next were barely above a whisper. "And it guided me back to you, knowing that you would never let me fall."

---

Afterword: First of all, apologies for being two weeks late. I needed to take a mental health break, and it was much needed. I'm still learning to figure out when I need a break (they, unfortunately, do not teach you that in college). Second of all, sorry that this chapter is stupidly long, and I apologize if any of it is draggy. I don't want to disappoint, so I hope it was at least an enjoyable conclusion!

Review Replies:

RemiSparklez: I did end up taking that break; I really needed it. I could probably use a little longer, but I really wanted/needed to get this chapter up and out there. It's a doozy of a chapter, the longest there's been in a while. I've had a lot of fun examining the more serious aspect of Hondo and Elara's relationship in this chapter. 'Cause for as much as they banter… they are still kinda enemies. And, god, the next time Elara (and Obi-Wan) come up against Hondo, it's gonna be a time and a half to convince them that they can trust him AT ALL after he tossed her off a whole ass cliff. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

ZabuzasGirl: Neither will I; I love him so, so, so much! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

bukspwn737: Obi-Wan definitely wasn't going to blow up at Elara over the lightsaber thing. It frustrated him, but he definitely internalized a lot of it; and was definitely given a bit of perspective on it once Elara was back. But he's absolutely a snark master, and that is totally one of the routes that he could have gone. And, oh, that is absoLUTEly something that could happen! Padmé definitely knows that Obi-Wan and Elara are in love with one another, and the MINUTE that Anakin is like 'what the hell are you talking about?' She's going to have so much evidence to present. Could make a whole powerpoint presentation on it, though that seems to be more Blinker's route to go. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

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

Nerdette92: One of the reasons I love Hondo so much is because for as much as he seems like a frivolous idiot, he's… so conniving. He will throw you off a cliff without hesitation if he has to––as is literally evidenced in this chapter. Hondo is so incredibly fond of Elara… but not so much so that he wouldn't risk her life to make a getaway. I hope you enjoyed the fresh, small (hopefully not underwhelming) Obi-Lara moment at the end of the chapter! And everything's alright with me, I just needed a bit of a mental health break. Feeling better now! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

Guest: I've got tentative plans for that arc of the series, but no matter what happens it is going to all play a specific purpose.

zikashigaku: In the times that I've written Hondo and Elara, they very much give me Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth vibes––he keeps being all flirty and what not and she's just not having it (unless it will benefit the situation). The original ending (that I wanted so badly but could not justify the physics [yes, the physics :( ] of) had Hondo giving her the location of the contact… but I just couldn't figure out a way to swing it with the way things ended up happening. But I have a work around. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

monkeybaby: I'm glad that the story was helping you through finals! I hope that they went well for you! Also, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

Guest: I've got a chunk of a chapter for it written, but I'm just waiting for the right inspiration to kick in! I've been in a very Sherlock-y mood lately, so I'm hoping it'll strike me soon!

bambam411: I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! I really do adore pirates so, so much, so getting to write Hondo and his crew is always a joy. And I have had a PotC fic sitting in drafts since I was in high school. 'Cause I was a pirate girl from the time I was in elementary school, and I just can't shrug it. Also have a Black Sails idea, which is a little more… darker, serious pirate fic. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, as you did the last one! Thanks again!

Monte Blanc: Hi! I'm so glad that you gave this story a chance and have been enjoying it and Elara as a character! I've never written a character where I've carried them through so many stages of their life. So it's been a great exercise in character development, one that's been incredibly fun. I'm very happy that it's seemed like a natural progression from one point to another for each part of her life (slave, Padawan, Jedi, General); sometimes when it's in-progress I feel like I've suddenly made a mistake because something she does doesn't align with something she would have done… then I go 'but she's older now, so of course it doesn't feel quite right sometimes.' I have written one other really long slow-burn, but this one… whoo boy, it's SO MUCH longer! I've worried sometimes it's too long, but it's just not in their characters to be together so quickly. There's so much they have to overcome and realize before they can even start to venture down that kind of path. Originally (years ago, I'm talking) they were going to have been together right after AotC, and I remember being like 'that… that's not right, that's too quick, Obi-Wan doesn't even really realize how he feels.' So for as much as it's been a journey to get to this point––it feels like the right one to have made. So in regards to how Elara will or will not change the story-lines… largely for the prequel stuff, a lot of things are gonna stay the same. There are arcs in the CWs that will change quite a bit because she is there (just wait for Mortis…), but I don't think I've kept it much a secret in review replies that the prequels will, largely, remain the same. HOWEVER… there are things that do happen in the OG trilogy that may or may not change significantly because of her presence… I do try and remain faithful to the source material and only change things that I feel will benefit the story that I've chosen to tell; and I'm happy that enough of it has changed/my writing has been engaging enough that you've been able to enjoy the story! Also, I'm sure you've noticed I'm a sucker for details. I adore writing the tiny mannerisms, right down to the tick of an eye or the shift of someone's fingers. And when it comes to Obi-Wan and Elara… I have extra fun with it. Because it's the small things that really define and urge their relationship along. And given that everything between them, regarding their feelings for one another, has to be secret… the tiny details are where it's at! And writing Elara and her struggle with the Code, with her past, and being a good example for Anakin… I love a good internal conflict (see: the entire story xD). Satine is gonna be waltzing in in a chapter or two and I am SO excited––because letting these two ladies commiserate about dealing with Obi-Wan and his sass and his lectures… it's going to be legendary. Also, the image of Anakin off to the side sipping a drink while both Satine and Elara roast Obi-Wan is now my new favorite thing that must happen at least once! Because poor Obi-Wan is gonna realize them knowing each other is going to be a TIME. I'm also really happy you enjoy the review replies! I love getting the chance to interact with all of y'all that read the story. There have been so many discussions I've had with folks on here that have helped shape and guide this story; sharing analysis of characters and plot points is just… so wonderful. Someone once asked me what Elara's Sith name and look would be, and that inspired the Darth Carus vision way back when. That, and I just love getting the chance to give back in any way I can. Y'all have stuck around with me for 56 chapters, and I wish there was so much more I could do to thank everyone! Also, I love long reviews! When I write I meander, that's why all my chapters are 16-plus pages long. Thank you for reading and lurking around this story for so long, it's been great to hear your thoughts! Thanks again! :)

thenerdnextdoor: This chapter gave me less trouble, but enough that I stared at my screen for a long time today and was like 'what if I just… make it five parts?' Then I whacked myself on the back of the head and was like 'uh, yeah, no, that can't happen, just do it.' And here we are! With a 28 page long chapter (good GOD)! I had so much fun, in this chapter, writing Hondo as a juxtaposition to what he was in the last chapter. Last time he was all about flirting with Elara… this time, after being slighted again, he is ALL about being all piratey. He still loves to toy and mess with her… but he's a thug at heart. She's a Jedi, she's basically law enforcement. Can't risk getting too close, in the end. Unpredictability is the name of the game with him and he certainly served it this time by absolutely hucking Elara off a cliff :) Speaking of TENSION with Obi-Lara… yeah, it's gonna be insufferable, now. They're both… so close to giving in. And with the Mandalore Arc coming up next… someone's just waiting to take a hammer to that tension to break it! Writing mean Hondo is shockingly easier than boundless energy, flirtatious Hondo. Him being absolutely terrible just… flows so well. Drained much less of my energy xD I really hope that you enjoyed the chapter! And that Obi-Lara moment at the end… I envisioned it much grander in my head, but for some reason I got hung up on physics of all things! Ugh, I hate my brain sometimes. I'm still thinking about that Cowboy!AU (my brother is moving back in with us, and he wants to play RDR2, so I've been doing another play through so I can help him if he needs it), and I'm still in love with it! I've been feeling a lot better––the last two weeks gave me plenty of time to get some good sleep! I'm still feeling a little funky, but I am MUCH better than I was a week ago. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again, and it was great to speak with you again! Hope you're doing well!

Elizabeth: The release of the Bad Batch did help with my mood! I love having fresh, new SW content to consume, it keeps my creative juices flowing! And, overall, I am feeling much better, even if there is a little bit of lingering funk. It's been a while, I think, since there was a chapter with some quality Elara POV on everything that's going on; we're getting down to the point where everyone (Obi and Lari) are walking on a tightrope, so the tiniest things matter so much. The smallest thing can send them tumbling off at this point, so I have to keep them balanced (hehe) until it's the right time for them to fall. Figuring out how Obi-Wan was going to react to Elara, in person, took some time to figure out. 'Cause in my head I was like 'there's gonna be snark, he's gonna be terse…' but true to form with a lot of my writing, I got to the moment and I went 'nope, it's none of that. Apparently it's all apprehension and tension.' Once these two are on better footing, they're going to have SO MUCH they need to discuss with one another. Because they're both making missteps, and even when they're finally together, they're going to have to discuss them so they can move forward. And just as Elara in the last chapter kept thinking about Obi-Wan and reprimanding herself for it––he's in the same boat! It's such a challenge for them both. 'Cause they're both so goal oriented and determined not to let any of their personal stuff interfere… but they just can't help it. They're so close to the tipping point, it's insane. I hope you enjoyed the dichotomy of Hondo! Last chapter we got our flirty pirate boy, this time we got our PIRATE pirate boy! I had a blast just letting him be absolutely despicable. I've also been trying to reincorporate more of Elara and her relationship with the Force lately. Because there hasn't been a lot of combat, I haven't been describing/using it much. But it's so important, so I'm glad you enjoyed the little bit of it in the last chapter! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again, it's always good to hear from you!

MalirBly: I'm so glad you don't mind an extra (and extra long) fourth part! I'm shocked this episode was one episode. In writing it, it's felt like a 2-3 episode arc, it's insane. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and the Obi-Lara moments sprinkled throughout! Thanks again!

Gem: Thank you so much! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter!

camelotprincess1: I'm really happy to hear that, so far, Hondo has read as in character! I struggled with him a little bit at the end of this chapter. I had a plan then had to change it, so I sat there being like 'would Hondo do this…? He'd do this…' I've found a new interest in playing his carefree, flirtiness off his piratical cruelty, and I guess I hit the big moment of that. Because for as much as he's fond of Elara… he's still gonna do what he's gotta do. And it's going to be fun to play with Elara's perspective on the moment in hindsight. And how she'll react whenever she sees him next. Also, Hondo would absolutely wipe the floor with some of the senators if he debated them! I'd pay to see it. Both Elara and Obi-Wan are at a point where everything that happens around them is, somehow, going to drag their thoughts back to the other. They truly are just… so in love, and they are so goddamn close to admitting it. This arc just sort of nudged them along. Also, I desperately miss the lads of the 442nd, and I am so happy we'll see them again soon! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

MyCookiemonster95: Sorry about that! I didn't intend for it to be a two week break, I promise! I just needed a chance to rest my brain, I was spiraling to not too great place and needed to recharge for a bit. But I'm feeling loads better, so expect a new chapter within the week! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!

I cannot thank all of you enough for being so patient with me. The last two weeks ended up being rough for me, but I always know that I have this story and all of y'all to turn to when I'm feeling awful, and that's a really lovely thing :)

Next arc on the docket is THE MANDALORE ARC! There might be an interim chapter or it might start sometime next chapter… depends. But I am so excited for this arc, you guys don't understand. I think you're all going to LOVE IT :)

Thanks again, y'all! You all rock so, so much!

~Mary