The passenger liner dropped out of hyperspace with a sickening lurch. Obi-Wan Kenobi leaned closer to the viewport as the grey-green planet he'd worked so hard to reach drew closer. Continents covered most of the planet beneath long bands of wispy clouds, and forest and mountains gave the surface an uneven bent. He glanced at the grey curvature of the horizon. A dreadnought drifted near the second moon, standing sentinel over the quiet planet below. It was massive in scale and definite in its sentinel promise.
Obi-Wan slumped in his seat and ran a hand over his recently grown beard. A Force suggestion wrapped around him like a cloak, the prayer of "ignore ignore ignore." The other passengers on the system-to-system liner weren't paying him any mind, but he wasn't in the clear yet. His lightsaber rested inside his second-hand civilian clothes, but the weight of it felt like a beacon.
The young Jedi knight slumped lower in his seat. Unhindered, the transport ship sailed past the watchful eye of the dreadnought and slipped into the atmosphere.
He'd left Anakin tucked in a small safehouse on Ord Radama with a pack of supplies, a burner comlink, and clear instructions: "Stay hidden. Stay safe."
Was the boy safe? Had he listened and stayed inside where those damned droids wouldn't find him? Obi-Wan shook his head. He couldn't worry about that now. He had to focus on the present, or they were both lost.
The ship shuddered but held steady. Twenty minutes later, they flew over a choppy sea full of islands and reefs and white water to land where they set down in a bustling, spired city. Carannia. When the entry ramp hissed open, cool air rushed. Obi-Wan peered out the viewport at the bustling spaceport. Sentients, droids, civilians, and security crisscrossed the station with the hum and bustle of commerce of all spaceports. So was this Serenno. He had never been to the system before, but if everything went according to plan, he'd be seeing a lot more of it. If not… it might be the last place he saw.
He stood and grabbed his small traveler's sack from under his seat. There wasn't much in it—a change of shirt, some forged papers, a few Republic credits that might not be worth their weight in metal here—but the pack helped him blend in.
He fell in line with the other passengers. At the exit, a customs officer in a grey suit and a security droid took up a post.
"Identification. Identification please."
Obi-Wan cursed under his breath. He hadn't expected a papers check before they got off the ship. He'd snuck on to this transport on Yavin so he wouldn't have to show ID. He had old ones—forged of course—but they wouldn't do on a planet whose security included a dreadnought in orbit.
Blast.
He glanced around. There were a few families, a woman with two attendants, a Twi'lek who looked like he might be a petty government official. All easy pickings. Then further back in the line, he spied a sour-faced man in fine robes.
"What is taking so long?" the man demanded, pushing through a cluster of travelers with the air of someone used to being important in his corner of the galaxy.
Perfect.
Obi-Wan made a show of patting down his tunic and pants then ducked out of line and made his way back towards his seat. "Pardon me. Pardon. So sorry, I've left my things," until he reached the man. There was a slight bulge at his right hip and under a fine outer robe—his identification.
Obi-Wan purposefully knocked shoulders with a young Rodian father holding a toddler.
"Hey!"
The Jedi backed towards his target and kept his eyes on the Rodians. "I'm so sorry. Clumsy of me."
The father bounced the child, who didn't look in the least perturbed. "No harm done."
Still apologizing, Obi-Wan backed into the rich man and slipped his hand into the man's pocket.
"Watch where you're going!" The man shoved him off, and Obi-Wan backed away, bowing and apologizing profusely as he pocketed the identification papers. "So sorry. So sorry."
The man dusted himself off and muttered loudly about local riff-raff. Too easy. Obi-Wan made his way back into the line off the ship and glanced at his new identity. There was no photo attached. This would be easier than he thought. He smoothed out his new identity as Hatro Dan, regional administrator on Mimban. With his second-hand tunic and coat, the Jedi hardly looked the part of a regional anything, but if he didn't know where Mimban was, the customs officer might not either.
The officer waved to him. "Next."
He stepped up and handed over his misidentification. The human officer looked it over, at Obi-Wan, then back at the papers. Flashing his most charming smile, the Jedi leaned in with the Force, willing to man to look the other way. "Everything is in order."
It was risky. But everything was risky these days, and he had to get off this ship.
The officer's face went blank for a moment then he handed back the ID and waved. "Everything is in order. Next."
Obi-Wan walked down the ramp and into the open, buzzing spaceport with purpose, trying not to walk too fast and draw attention. He wove through bustling crowds of workers, making for the other side of the port. With the recent tension between the Rim Worlds and the Republic, most of the traffic was cargo. There were precious few passenger ships, which made blending in harder.
Outside the port, the city soared in all directions, the tops of tall spires lost in low clouds. The city was grey but lively, the smell of salt and open-air market food pervasive. Obi-Wan's stomach growled, but he didn't have time to stop for food. He'd left most of his credits with Anakin anyway.
Instead, he stopped a Rodian woman and asked for directions to the public transit. From what little research he had scraped together, public transit was free here and would get him to the edge of the city. From there he'd have to start asking for directions since maps of Serenno were hard to come by. He missed the Archives at the Temple and their millennia wealth of knowledge.
A low miasma of anxiety pervaded the city, much like the rest of the Galaxy. The Republic hadn't felt steady in a long time, despite the Senate's attempts to stabilize the Mid Rim with their new droid armies. The Senate's sudden decisiveness made a lot of systems uneasy, but Serenno seemed confident in its dreadnought protection overhead. The ruling houses must have cut deep into their coffers to afford such things.
The streets were old but well organized, and he was able to find the transit station where he waited with a handful of other passengers. The cool air echoed with the noise of the city. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and the smell of fuel and the nearby sea mingled in his nose.
Were there other Jedi on Serenno? Other survivors? He couldn't sense any close by, but he didn't dare reach too far to look.
Stay small. Stay quiet. That's how he and Anakin had survived the past six months as they hopped from planet to planet. It wasn't the life Qui-Gon had meant for the boy. But there wasn't any way he could have seen it coming. No one had.
He reached the transit terminal a few minutes later. Serenno had ships that passed between the major cities, but inside Carannia public high-speed trains were the main transport. Inside the station, he found the line going to the north edge of the city. A few moments later the train sped into the station, and he watched his reflection warp and break then slowly solidify in the windows as the train screeched to a halt. The Force rippled, and he glanced left. Coming down the platform was a security droid, the same make and model as at the spaceport. It was holding a datapad and speaking with the other civilians, working its way towards him. That looked like something he wanted to avoid.
The doors slid open, and Obi-Wan stepped onto the train where he tucked himself into a corner and grabbed the overhead handles. A few more passengers loaded in, and the doors hissed shut, and they were away. Something played over the speakers, and he glanced up. On a wall-mounted holo-screen was a still image of Mas Amedda, Chancellor Valorum's new right hand, and his sycophantic voice played with a buzzy drone.
"The Chancellor is determined to provide the citizens of the Republic with security and stability in these trying times." Feedback buzzed across the screen and garbled the words. "—standing warrant for all fugitive Jedi. Adherents of the former Jedi Order are extremely dangerous and threaten the peace we have worked tirelessly to preserve. Even now they are forming new cells, festering rebellion that threatens us all. Any information leading to the apprehension of one of these traitors—"
Obi-Wan ducked his head and tried to ignore the weight of Qui-Gon's lightsaber. None of the other passengers seemed to be paying anyone else any kind. Nobody here was looking for Jedi. They wouldn't see him if they weren't looking for him.
Then the recording was over, and Amedda's voice was replaced with two local holo jockeys.
"I just don't see it, Corl. Traitors? All of 'em?"
"You say that, but you never met one. Spooky kriffing—"
Obi-Wan looked out the window, watching the city rush past. He'd heard rumors of other survivors of the Purge. That there were a few of their number trying to start over, setting up secret places where they could hide and teach the children they had saved. He had thought of taking Anakin there, briefly. But with the Republic doubling down on its warrants for Jedi, and the droid armies growing every day, Obi-Wan wasn't sure congregating was the right choice. They were Jedi still, Jedi to the end, but forging a new place for them wasn't his path. There were three things he knew for certain.
The Sith had returned.
He had promised to train the boy.
The Sith could never be allowed to find Anakin.
The train slowed and squealed to a stop. Obi-Wan braced himself against the forward pitch. As a prerecorded voice announced the stop, the doors hissed open, and a few civilians filtered on and off.
He was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing.
"Hey!"
Obi-Wan whipped his head toward the voice. Seated at the front of the car was the sour-faced administrator. The man leaped to his feet and stabbed a finger at Obi-Wan. "He ran into me at the landing platform. He stole my papers!"
With him where two security officers. Officers with stun pistols at their hips.
"Kriff." Obi-Wan dove through the doors as they closed, leaving the administrator and the droids inside the now moving train. He sprinted off the platform into the street, shouldering past passengers. A droid demanded he stop and identify himself. Not bloody likely.
He veered off down a side street. He'd made it this far and for what? To get arrested by the first lawman who laid eyes on him. Sloppy. Stupid. He couldn't get caught. Just because Serenno harbored no love of the Republic didn't mean they wouldn't turn him over as a fugitive.
The Force screamed a warning, and he veered right, swerving past small carts and bowling over someone in a uniform. Sirens started up in the distance.
There had to be a place he could hide, lie low. Long enough to make everyone lose interest and he could—
Something slammed into him. Obi-Wan flew through the air and hit the ground hard. He tumbling over and over and slammed into a tree along the boulevard. Pain exploded across his back and arm, and he hit the ground in a heap. Groaning, he forced himself to one knee. His lightsaber. He slapped blindly at his tunic. Where was the lightsaber?
He staggered to his feet, and the pain shooting through his body sent him reeling into the tree. Three vehicles with lights and wailing sirens surrounded him.
"This is the Serenno Security Task Force," a mechanical voice announced. "Raise your hands in the air."
Damn.
The officers escorted Obi-Wan to a holding cell where they shackled his wrists together and chained the cuffs to the cold duracreet floor. His left shoulder hurt from hitting the ground while his ribs ached where he'd collided with the patrol vehicle. He hadn't seen what happened to the lightsaber, but he certainly didn't have it now.
Obi-Wan spit blood and saliva and smeared his bloodied nose on his wrist. It stung. Another fine mess he'd gotten himself into. At least with the swelling, he couldn't smell the stench all jail cells seemed to have in common. Why did he always end up here?
He tugged his chain to its full meter of length and examined his cell, the door and lock. There wasn't a window in sight, and with the chain barely long enough for him to stand upright, he couldn't get a good look down the hall to check the state of the security. The scratch marks about the door frame told him others had tried and failed in that exit, and with a better idea of what was waiting outside, it would be foolish to try. He sat down hard on the floor and ran his hands down his face.
Blast.
He didn't have time for this. He'd left Anakin with clear instructions: if Obi-Wan was gone longer than seven rotations, the boy wouldn't be there when he got back. Getting to Serenno had taken two.
He had to stop worrying about Anakin. He had to focus on the present. The Jedi closed his eyes and tried to release his anxiety to the Force.
About an hour later, footsteps echoed in the hall. Obi-Wan lurched out of his meditation to his feet and hissed at pain surging across his shoulder and thighs.
The Force thinned in the room, like water running out to sea to meet a wave. The door hissed open and in stepped two officers and a tall, elderly man clad all in black.
Count Dooku.
Former Jedi Master and Council member. Qui-Gon's old teacher. Now count of Serenno. He had the imperious air of a man well-aware he had the upper hand, and the Force coiled around him like a snake poised to strike.
Obi-Wan kept his face neutral. This wasn't how he'd wanted to have this meeting.
The count gave Obi-Wan a disinterest once over before he took a datapad from one of the officers and scanned its contents. "I understand you were attempting to sneak into Serenno with stolen identification papers." His voice was sharp, with the question implied.
Obi-Wan bowed his head. "I apologize for the pretenses, your grace. Traveling is not the easiest feat these days."
"I imagine not. On your arrest, you were also found carrying a lightsaber. You understand the dangerous misunderstanding that could create." The count sounded as if he were noting the weather instead of weighing Obi-Wan's life. When the Jedi didn't respond, he continued, "This is, of course, all a misunderstanding." He handed the datapad back to the officer. "Which is why you will be releasing this young man into my custody. You will find the fines for the property damage already paid."
Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, but the officers started like they hadn't expected to be addressed. "Sir…"
"I do have other places to be, Captain." The barest hint of irritation slipped into the count's voice, and the officers' unease spiked. They mumbled something about procedure then removed the cuffs. Obi-Wan got slowly to his feet and rubbed his chaffed wrists. He eyed the count, but the man turned on his heel and strode down the hall, cloak snapping behind him. They were escorted through the busy station to a landing pad out where a sleek wind sailer sat idling. The count apparently hadn't planned to be here long. He didn't break pace. "Officers."
Unsure where this was going but not wanting to stay at the security station, Obi-Wan followed the count up the sailer's ramp. The interior was as spotless as the exterior and large enough for three passengers and a pilot droid, which was already clicking at the dashboard.
The Jedi paused at the top of the ramp. "Your grace…"
"Take a seat." And Dooku was already seated, his back to Obi-Wan.
If Dooku meant to turn him over to the Republic's droid armies, he was doing a poor job of it so far. Or maybe not. Obi-Wan had followed him into the ship. The Jedi a seat behind the pilot droid. Once ramp sealed shut, the ship rose into the sky.
After a long silence, Obi-Wan decided to press his luck. He wouldn't accomplish anything by sitting in silence. The clock was ticking.
"I take it you're not turning me over to the Republic then?"
Dooku made a derisive noise in his throat and turned his chair around to arch an eyebrow at the Jedi. "Hardly. I've hoped the Jedi would find their way here, but you are the first to try it. Imagine my surprise when I learned my padawan's padawan was arrested less than an hour from my home."
Obi-Wan flinched internally. It had been a stupid mistake. One he wouldn't make again.
"It's a great pity our paths never crossed before," Dooku continued. "Qui-Gon always spoke very highly of you." He reached into his cloak and produced Qui-Gon's lightsaber. He weighed it, and a regretful look lined his face. "I was… grieved to hear of his passing."
"You know?"
"Yes. The Council had the courtesy to inform me after the battle on Naboo." Even though he had already left the Order by then.
Obi-Wan exhaled slowly, relief and sorrow churning in his chest. Thank the Force he didn't have to deliver that news. He wasn't sure he could get through the whole story, not yet. He ran a hand over his face, and his bread scratched his palm. "So you know why I'm here."
Dooku nodded. "I will, of course, shelter you from the Republic's treachery. What they did to the Jedi… It was madness. You've done well surviving long enough to bring yourself here." The sorrow in his face and voice were replaced with resolve. A Jedi Sentinel's resolve.
Dooku had been Jedi once. It was evident in his posture, in the way the Force hummed in a honed blade around him. Qui-Gon had rarely spoken of his old master, but when he did, Dooku was a paragon, if stubborn Jedi. A master duelist and an exacting but excellent teacher. Then he'd left the Order a few years before Naboo—heretic, traitor, dissenter. Why he'd left and what kind of man he was now…
He didn't need to know about Anakin, about the prophecy. Not yet. Not until Obi-Wan knew he could be trusted. The Jedi knight leaned forward. "Did Yoda tell you how my master died?"
Dooku gave a wary look. "Only that he was killed during the battle, doing his duty as any Jedi should."
"The battle droids didn't do it." They couldn't have. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. "It was a Sith."
Dooku jerked like he'd been electrocuted, and he was on his feet towering with a snarl over the younger man. "A Sith?"
Obi-Wan nodded.
"And what became of it?"
"Dead."
The Force coiled tight around the count, but he had schooled his face again to a grim frown. "You're certain?"
"He's dead. I killed him."
Dooku turned to the front window and crossed his arms in a way very much like Qui-Gon, the dead man's lightsaber still in hand. He scowled into the middle distance, and Obi-Wan leaned back to wait. If Yoda had told the count about Qui-Gon's death without mentioning the Sith, maybe this was a mistake. But he'd come too far now to stop.
"Master? Or apprentice?" asked the count.
"I don't know." Obi-Wan shook his head. "But there are always two. Which means there is still a Sith Lord walking free. I don't know what happened on Coruscant those last few days, but I do not believe that the Jedi would attack the Chancellor. The Council was opening an investigation into the warrior I killed. I believe they found something."
"So the Sith staged a coup? The Jedi came too close to the truth, so a Sith Lord puppeteered the Senate into destroying the Order?" Dooku sounded unconvinced, but he hadn't denied the possibility. If it was true, if there was any chance at all, the Jedi or not, the threat was too real to ignore.
Obi-Wan pressed his advantage. "We thought the Sith were destroyed centuries ago. But one killed my master. The Jedi Order is scattered. It's not a coincidence."
"And you think I'll help you hunt this Sith Lord? I am not a Jedi anymore."
"But you were. One of the best. Train me, and I will have the strength to do what is necessary."
Still gazing out the window, Dooku leaned in with the Force, sharp and insistent, trying to lay Obi-Wan's intentions bare. There would be no point in lying. But that didn't mean he had to give the entire truth.
"I have a padawan. And there is no one else."
Dooku held his gaze without flinching, but it was clear neither man would be cowed. Finally, Dooku turned his back to Obi-Wan and gazed out the window at the racing landscape. His reflection looked distant and sharp. "This sounds dangerously close to vengeance.."
Obi-Wan shrugged. "You are not a Jedi anymore."
The faintest smile twitched at Dooku's lips then vanished, replaced in the count's reflection by something more calculating. "You are one man. Barely knighted."
"One is enough. It has to be."
Dooku turned back to him with narrowed eyes and regarded him for a long time, calculation evident. Then he turned back to the window, and rapidly approaching was a monolithic grey castle atop a cliff. Dooku gestured to a larger ship, a golden-brown sun sailer, then he handed the green lightsaber back to Obi-Wan. "Retrieve your apprentice, and when you return, we will discuss your training."
The Jedi bowed and entered the ship. He had to get back to Anakin before the boy disappeared into the Outer Rim never to be seen again. Quickly he got the ship running and guided it out of the hangar and through the atmosphere. A quick swipe over the control panel set the coordinates for Ord Radama, and the ship unfurled its sail-like a beetle wing and slipped into hyperspace.
Obi-Wan deflated in his seat, his face falling into his hand as he took a shuddering breath. It had worked. Thank the Force, it had worked.
But he didn't have time for relief. He had to get to Anakin, and after that, the real work began.
Obi-Wan straightened and took the controls. "I won't fail you, Master."