Obi-wan hadn't been able to see the face of the person who stood opposite them as the door to the other ship gave way. He wasn't sure if there had been just one, two, or even more on the other side. Or perhaps he had been able to see, and just didn't recall.
It wasn't like him to be so forgetful, but the aching bruise on the back of his skull told him a head injury was most likely the cause. His body still tingled with uncomfortable pins and needles as he came to- the tell-tale sign he had more likely than not been hit with a stun blast at first contact with their supposed rescuers.
With the weight of Anakin in his arms, he must have fallen hard. It had to have been the source of the head injury. And a concussion was the last thing that he wanted to have to deal with. He might have had some other useful information to help him, but he couldn't recall a single shred. The last thing he remembered was carrying Anakin towards the docking airlock. And after that? Nothing.
To Obi-wan it had been seamless- holding his unconscious student in his arms, the one who had been frightfully ill. Next thing he knew, he blinked his eyes open painfully to the darkness of the room around him, his head throbbing. His hands and ankles were bound together in shackles- a less than optimal state to find oneself in. Though he supposed it could be worse. It could always be worse.
In an attempt to sense what surrounded him he reached out with the force, only to be snapped back with an icy shock that lanced through him at his wrists and ankles, arcing through his body with terrible pain. The startled cry that escaped him was met with a whimper off in the distance.
"Anakin?" Obi-wan called out, his voice laden with distress.
"Master," he answered back, voice trembling with fear, painted with fatigue from the sickness that no doubt still plagued him.
"Anakin," Obi-wan breathed with relief. "Thank the force," he added, with only a fleeting after thought that perhaps he shouldn't be so thankful yet. They were in a dark room, bound and severed from the force, still aboard a ship that was traveling through hyperspace from the feel of the durasteel hull he was propped up against. And Anakin was sick, in desperate need of medical attention.
Suddenly a blue flash could be seen from across the room as Anakin cried out, "AH!" Obi-wan could see in that fleeting second that Anakin was propped up against the hull on the opposite side of the small chamber.
"It's no use." Obi-wan said with defeat. "The only way we're getting out of these things is if someone lets out."
"What happened? Where are we?" Anakin said, rising panic in his voice.
"Calm yourself Padawan, giving into fear won't help us out of here." Obi-wan said in a soothing tone. "And to be quite honest, I don't know where we are. You fell unconscious at the helm after you finished constructing the beacon. And judging from the response time of our rescuers, it worked like a charm." Obi-wan said, more biting than he realized.
There was a pause before Anakin spoke. "I'm sorry Master, I should have reconfigured it like you wanted." He lamented.
"It's not your fault, besides I'm certain it wouldn't have mattered. I didn't even get a look at whoever it was before they stunned me outright. Whoever picked us up had been looking for us. They knew we would be stalled out around that point." Obi-wan said, his mind running through the ever narrowing list of possible perpetrators.
"Zaann was the only one who knew we were leaving." Anakin said emptily.
"I know." Obi-wan agreed grimly.
"I'm scared, Master," Anakin said, his voice small, ever wrenching Obi-wan's heart into pieces.
Obi-wan felt the reflexive need to go to him and hold him, but doing such would be impossible in their circumstances. And now, the quite literal restraints were the only thing holding him back from doing just that.
"I am too, but you have to be brave. We both do. And true bravery is always a willful answer to fear. It doesn't mean anything without it." Obi-wan said, wishing he could steal away all of Anakin's hurt and pain yet again, erase the fear that would no doubt turn to more hurt and pain in the future. But the only thing he could give was verbal encouragement, and it was the one thing that Anakin rarely responded well to.
"We're going to get out of this place." Obi-wan amended, reassuring his Padawan as well as reminding himself. They had faced much worse straits back on Kraysiss Two. Obi-wan would cut down whoever stood in his way to keep Anakin safe. Just because he felt a spark of vengeful sentiment, well that hardly changed the fact that what needed to be done would be done. The technicalities of how he ought to feel about it could be dealt with later. But honestly, wasn't he a long way past caring about the particulars of the Jedi code? He had given up on that the first time he had allowed himself to go too far.
With a jolt Obi-wan felt the ship abruptly drop back to realspace. Anakin gave a startled whine in response. "Breathe, Anakin." Obi-wan said as Masterly as he knew how. "It's going to be alright."
"You don't know that." Anakin answered so quietly Obi-wan had to strain his ear to listen.
"I know that I'm not going to let anything happen to you." Obi-wan responded quickly, the possessiveness in his voice shining through brighter than intended. His heart fluttered in his chest. The truth was larger than that though. He knew he would kill everyone on this vessel just to keep Anakin safe. He would do it with a wry smile on his face- because how dare anyone try to even touch his precious Padawan? His Anakin?
Obi-wan might have tried to curb the avaricious pull in himself, but found himself not caring to even try. Yes, there were some things he wouldn't- couldn't allow himself. He knew he couldn't touch Anakin in the ways his flesh wanted so badly. But just because he couldn't touch him, didn't mean he wasn't his. It didn't change the fact of how he was absolutely on fire for him. He would raze an entire city to the ground in exchange for Anakin's life.
For a moment, Obi-wan was glad that they were both cut off from the force, from the bond that held them together. Otherwise Anakin would have been able to feel every bit of his Master's forbidden thoughts.
The ship began to shake against the atmospheric resistance as they made for landfall. Where? Obi-wan couldn't say for sure, but it was far beyond a reasonable assumption that somehow Zaann was involved. To what end was impossible to say, but for nothing good.
"I don't feel good Master," Anakin groaned.
"Just breathe, it's going to be alright. We're landing some place, that means we'll be able to get away and get help." Obi-wan said, hiding his own fear more aptly. He was afraid for Anakin's sickness, it was the only thing he was mostly powerless in saving him from.
The ship rocked and creaked as the landing thrusters came online, slowing their descent to the land below. Finally with a jolt and a thud the ship landed on even ground, perhaps a landing pad from the sound of it.
They sat in silence for what felt like an hour after that, Obi-wan checking in on his Padawan every few minutes to be sure he hadn't fallen unconscious again. Much to Obi-wan's relief, Anakin however unwell he was feeling, was able to stay awake.
Finally, Obi-wan heard some footfall approaching with a measure of dread. It was better to get on with it, he supposed, that way Anakin could get the medical attention he needed. And just when Obi-wan thought there would be no more surprises, he found himself due for another.
The door gave way and the light in the small room hummed to life. Blinded by the sudden glaring brightness, it took a moment for Obi-wan's eyes to fully adjust but once they did his eyes fell to a familiar figure, not at all the one he had expected.
Jerot stood there for a moment, hovering in the doorway. His expression looked uneasy, like he might have had a sour stomach. In the next moment Obi-wan switched his gaze to Anakin, who looked over at the newcomer as if he were a ghost instead of living flesh and bone.
Before Obi-wan thought to ask him for assistance, though he was beginning to suspect the chance of that happening was slim to none, another set of steps came marching down the hallway to where they lie, bound and in wait. He could see Jerot's shoulders stiffen at their sound.
Jerot stepped aside to make way for his Master who strode in with a sinister look of triumph on his face. His Padawan seemed to cower away from him. Looking at him with a more careful eye, Obi-wan noted the bruises on the boy's arm along with what looked like a trail of nail marks on his neck, still fresh with light hues of purple rising beneath them. As if he hadn't harbored enough resentment towards the man to begin with, he seemed to find another untapped well of it just below the surface.
"Well well, Master Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker. It seems you never made it to Coruscant, what a shame." Qualturus spat mockingly.
Obi-wan glowered, sneering at Zaann with unfaltering eye contact. He didn't understand what the man's angle was, nor how someone so despicable rose to power within the Order to begin with. Obi-wan didn't know much about him at all, other than the fact that he liked to hurt those he held rank over, Padawans specifically. Who knows what else the man was capable of, or what else he had already done.
Obi-wan thought how much he would like to hurt Qualturus in all the ways he had hurt Anakin, and Jerot too for that matter. Then he would kill him, because he wanted to. Obi-wan knew that intention shone in his eyes brightly, and he didn't try to hide it.
In the tense silence Qualturus began to laugh hysterically. Jerot stared at the floor, unwilling to look at Kenobi or Anakin as his Master lorded over them. "Oh, Kenobi, still so fierce in spite of your obvious disadvantage."
Obi-wan willed himself to put aside his murderous desires for the sake of diplomacy. Just for now, at least. It was difficult, and near impossible, but he would be damned if he wasn't able to fake nearly anything to a fault. "I don't understand what you want with us, Qualturus. Aren't we all on the same side?" Obi-wan said, his voice carefully level.
Zaann laughed even harder for a moment, the sound well past grating on Obi-wan's nerves. From across the room he could see Anakin's chest rise and fall at a quickening pace as his eyes darted nervously, glossing with tears. The poor boy was terrified. He had said before he thought Qualturus had set out to kill him, and with circumstances being what they were, Obi-wan wasn't entirely convinced otherwise.
Still silent, Jerot stood slightly behind and to the side of his Master. Obi-wan searched out his eyes for a chance to stir him to action, but it seemed highly unlikely in the wake of what seemed a fresh attitude adjustment from his Master.
Zaann's laughter slowed as he wiped his eyes of the tears that collected there. "Oh, you are one for a good laugh, aren't you?" He said, amused.
"I'm not laughing." Obi-wan ground out. "Let us go Zaann. Let us go, and I'll petition the council to go easy on you."
"Oh, yes. You think you're so powerful, don't you? Obi-wan Kenobi, the ever important Jedi, and his brat Padawan the Chosen One. Yes, don't you have delusions of grandeur?" Zaann laughed sarcastically.
"Importance has nothing to do with anything. You know the code, none of us are more or less than anyone else." Obi-wan said, shaking his head. He couldn't understand the man, not his motives or his ways. Was he jealous? Did he feel sidelined by the Order? If Obi-wan could understand him, he might be able to talk his way through without bloodshed. Not that he minded spilling any of Qualturus's however.
"Oh yes, the ever sacred code. You know as well as I do that it was made to be broken. The code is broken." Zaann proclaimed.
Obi-wan's heart slammed in his chest. Zaann's words seemed to accuse him in all the ways that seemed impossible. Was he really so transparent? But he was, wasn't he? Just moments earlier he had been glaring at the man with open hate in his eyes- hardly something a Jedi should be given to, and very much against the code. Only Obi-wan had been left to accuse himself over his more serious grievances, ones that would be impossible for Zaann to know of.
But the code being broken? Obi-wan might have agreed on some level, but now was not the time to discuss such things. It didn't help that he knew his late Master would have agreed with the sentiment.
"I don't know what you mean. The code is what a Jedi lives his life by. It's at the heart of what being a Jedi means." Obi-wan said in his best authoritative voice, even though he damned himself as much as Zaann with those words.
"The code, hell- the entire Order is flawed." Zaann snarled, a sharp change of tone that made both Anakin and Jerot flinch.
"That's something you should take up with the council. I don't see what any of this has to do with that." Obi-wan said blandly, not knowing the vein he had struck in the unstable Zabrak that became even more unhinged before him.
"Oh, but it has everything to do with you. Well, not you, him." Zaann snarled, pointing a finger towards Anakin who tried hard to maintain his composure.
Obi-wan's voice and expression hardened as he sensed a threat towards Anakin, which was highly unacceptable. "I beg your pardon?"
"The Chosen One. Do you even know what that means?" Zaann said, his eyes wild.
"Of course I do. It is said that he will bring balance to the force. But the ancient mystics and their prophecies are too ambiguous to be taken literally." Obi-wan said in a textbook manner.
Yes, Obi-wan knew about the Jedi prophets all too well. His own Master had been unhealthily obsessed with them for years. Obi-wan had been his unwilling yet compliant assistant researcher. Qui-gon had mulled over the holocron of ancient prophecy, and had even claimed to be given his own visions from time to time. Qui-gon had learned just how deceptive those visions could become in shaping the future. Obi-wan had learned to avoid them. Such knowledge never seemed to be beneficial, nearly quite the opposite. And such things as seeking knowledge of the future, had been known to lead to the Dark Side.
Zaann's face had turned a shade darker, his eyes even more wild. "Do you understand what bringing balance to the force means?"
"It could mean many things." Obi-wan said in a nondescript tone. He felt he was starting to understand the man, and it was admittedly frightening. Dealing with ideological fanatics were the worst sort to have to reason with, as they were usually well past reason to begin with.
"It means ending the Order as we know it! It means a culling of the light, and a resurgence of the dark. Balance is the last thing the Galaxy needs." Zaann proclaimed.
"The Force has its will. And in the end, if it seeks balance, it will find it. It's foolish to stand in the way, or even try to shape it." Obi-wan said with reason, realizing with some measure of panic that there was probably nothing he could say to change the man's mind.
Perhaps Anakin was right, he had intended on his death. But why drag it out? What was the point? Just to preach to them, to justify his actions?
"So what then? What's your grand plan?" Obi-wan said, sneering with disgust yet again.
Zaann smiled darkly. "My plan? I've thought about it quite a lot, actually. I'm glad you asked."
"Did it involve poisoning an innocent Padawan? Because if so, congratulations." Obi-wan snarled, seeing Anakin's pallor turn to a sickly ashen shade, his expression equally dour.
"Poison? No, it wouldn't suit my needs." Zaann said, interested suddenly in Anakin's deteriorating state. He walked over towards the boy who struggled away from his touch.
"Don't you dare touch him!" Obi-wan growled, wrestling his binds in futility. Anakin craned away as Zaann touched his forehead lightly.
"He's burning up," Zaann noted, scanning the boy over. Tugging on the shoulder of his tunic, Qualturus revealed Anakin's upper chest which was an even darker shade of ashy gray, with darker near black rivulets cutting through it in a dendritic pattern. Obi-wan looked on him with sudden grave realization from across the room.
No, it wasn't poison. He had been so blind not to realize what it was earlier. Somehow, Anakin had been infected with the same Sith virus that he had back on Kraysiss Two. Only whatever Anakin had was significantly slower acting, not quite the same thing that had eaten him up in a matter of hours. Perhaps he had been scratched and tainted blood had been passed between them, Obi-wan reasoned. Anakin had changed his bandages enough for that to be a possibility.
Still continuing his inspection of the boy, Zaann pulled Anakin's tunic away almost completely, meeting minimal resistance from the sick and bound Padawan. Obi-wan saw with horror, the black spread that began to cover his lower torso, branching out in dark veins throughout his body. "My my, this looks strangely familiar," Zaann said in an interested tone.
"Nanites," Obi-wan nearly begged, as much as he didn't want to be so reduced. Zaann hooked a finger into Anakin's leggings and pulled down to reveal his hip, entirely blackened by the virus. Obi-wan wanted to strangle him, rip his arms from his torso just for touching him.
"He needs nanites, it's the only thing that will kill the virus." Obi-wan said urgently.
"Hmm, I don't know. I don't need him alive for that much longer…" Zaann deliberated.
Obi-wan's murderous rage turned to icy fear in his veins. His stare went to catch Jerot's with frantic desperation. The boy averted his gaze shamefully.
"You're going to let an innocent boy die!" Obi-wan cried out.
Zaann turned slowly to face Obi-wan, a strange placid expression on his face. "I'm hardly the one who infected him now, am I?" He took a step away from Anakin, and towards Obi-wan.
"No, you did." Zaann said, raising a finger to accuse him. "And all medical reports and images, that I've scoured quite extensively mind you, say nothing about any infected bite marks or scratches."
Obi-wan felt the tenacity bleed from him as his blood turned even colder. Poor Anakin sat opposite him, silent streams of tears running down his ashen face, his features contorted around a string of sobs as what remained unspoken loomed over the both of them.
"I have to say Kenobi, I'm surprised. I never thought someone as high and mighty as you would stray so far. And you would call me a monster." Zaann said, the look on his face noting that he was well entertained by the circumstances. "Hypocrisy abounds."
"You are a monster." Obi-wan said with little vehemence, his stomach feeling like he wanted to vomit while his body trembled. He could feel the uncomfortable cold sweat that broke out across his body, dampening his clothes. This was all just a bad dream, there was no way this could be happening.
"I almost regret that I'll never get to see the council's reaction to knowing you fucked your own Padawan." Zaann laughed with disbelief.
Tears broke out from his eyes and he shook his head as he watched over Anakin's sobbing form. "No," he breathed out, protesting the reality of his waking nightmare.
No, I never- It wasn't, it wasn't real- I couldn't
But he had. Obi-wan felt like all the life had been drained from him. He saw Anakin hunched over himself with his knees hugged tightly to his chest across the room, quietly sobbing. And suddenly Obi-wan found he hated himself just as much as he hated Zaann, if not more. Zaann had left bruises and broken ribs, but he had done so much worse. Who was the monster? Obi-wan felt himself choke on bitter tears as he remembered with sick horror how Anakin had writhed and struggled against him, how he cried out in pain. How even after he came to, he didn't stop.
Who was the monster?
"At any rate, you can take solace in knowing that he is far from innocent." Zaann amended, his amusement waning out. But for Obi-wan time had stopped, his mind damning him with too many images and memories than his stomach could handle.
Obi-wan looked up at Zaann with his teary bloodshot eyes with more than a healthy amount of venom. "I've seen things, the things that he will do if he's allowed to live. He will bring down the entire Jedi Order single handedly, slaughter thousands."
Obi-wan shook his head with disbelief. "Anakin would never…" He's kind and perfect and beautiful... and I raped him. Obi-wan thought, his heart broken and shattered to dust inside of himself.
"That is what balance means. And he will exact it himself." Zaann said gravely. "Unless someone stops him. Unless I stop him."
"If the force wants balance, killing him isn't going to change anything." Obi-wan said, frantically trying to force himself to refocus. If he couldn't negotiate with Zaann, Anakin as well as himself were going find their deaths. It was nearly impossible to wrench the terrible images from his mind, but he did his best.
"And you thought I was so short sighted?" Zaann said with a touch of disapproval, maybe even offense. "That is why I still need Anakin. Well, his blood anyhow."
Anakin curled up even more. Obi-wan could see his shoulders shaking, more with fear now than tears. He didn't dare ask Zaann for details, but knew the man wouldn't be able to help himself from giving them anyways.
"Do you know how many prophecies, both Jedi and Sith alike, speak about the Chosen One?" Zaann asked rhetorically. Obi-wan could think of three offhand. Though admittedly, he knew next to nothing of Sith prophecy.
"Over three hundred." Zaann said, pausing for gravity. "The blood of the Chosen One, is a key to unlocking many things in regards to Sith wisdom. Entire collections of holocrons, temples and gateways. Relics. They only open when the blood of the Chosen One is spilled. You see, the Sith didn't want him to bring balance. They wanted him for themselves, to become the greatest Sith warrior the universe has ever seen."
"But I don't need quite so much. A few relics will make me the most powerful force wielder in existence. It will allow me to defend the Order from the threat of extinction. It's almost makes me laugh- you talk about the will of the force. I am one with it. Were it not for the force and its will, you both would have died on Kraysiss Two, and all this potential to protect the order would have been lost. But the force brought you back, for this."
Obi-wan stared at the man slack jawed. The idealistic fanaticism he was up against was so much worse than he ever thought possible. Their seemingly insurmountable circumstances coupled with the devastating realization of how he had hurt Anakin left him null for any ideas of how to navigate the situation further. But Zaann didn't need prompting, he was on a roll explaining his methods and reasoning. He was a full blown narcissistic psychopath on a manic rampage.
"When I had learned about Kraysiss Two in my research, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to rid the galaxy of both of you, without having to get my hands dirty. The council lapped up the idea of a Sith threat, even though they had no idea where the source of the information had come from, or what their motives were. The council is often blinded by their own ambitions."
Zaanns admission only surprised Obi-wan for a moment, but it made sense that it was he who had orchestrated their demise from the beginning. Still, the knowledge of the man's obsession only added to the fear that they were never getting out of this alive.
"You are a fool if you think you can single handedly protect the Order. You're using Sith tactics to achieve power. You might as well be one yourself." Obi-wan said lowly, condemning. Zaann might see himself as some gold-plated savior, but Obi-wan wasn't about to die pandering to the man's self importance.
"It's close minded to shut oneself off from the potential of all that lies outside of the light. I will do whatever it takes to protect the Order, even if it means reaching into the dark." Zaann declared.
"The moment you think the ends justify the means, you lose sight of the very heart of what it means to be a Jedi. Prophecy isn't meant to be taken as literal truth. Nothing is set in stone until it comes to pass." That's how it is with visions. It's only a vision, until it's real and you find yourself forcing yourself on your defenseless Padawan with only your moral will to stop you but even that fails because anything can be justified in the heat of the moment.
"Now let me tell you what is set in stone," Zaann said darkly, well done with justifying himself. "I'm going to drain that boy for every drop of blood he has, and you're going to watch me do it, because I don't like you. And when he's dead and cold, I'm going to slit your throat and watch you bleed out with a smile on my face."
Obi-wan looked to Jerot again frantically. He was done trying to negotiate with a mad man. "Jerot, you don't have to help him. You know what he's doing is wrong, I know you do." Obi-wan said in a calm yet frantic voice.
"You're wasting your time. My Padawan knows the value of the bigger picture. And he's loyal to his Master." Zaann said assuredly as he cased closer to Anakin, his back to Jerot and Obi-wan.
"Help us and I'll make sure he never hurts you again. I promise." Obi-wan said, catching Jerot's conflicted gaze.
"Jerot, go and fetch me the case at the end of the hallway. Quickly." Zaann ordered as he lingered over Anakin's huddled form.
A tortured expression fell over him as he turned reluctantly to follow his Master's order. "Please don't do this," Obi-wan begged, hating that he was reduced to it, but finding no other suitable options. Fighting his restraints would only weaken him if he did have the chance to escape them. And since their lightsabers had been confiscated, he would need every ounce of strength he could get.
Zaann ignored him, looming over his prize. The Chosen One finally in his grasp, helpless to his designs. He was so absorbed, basking in his victory that he hadn't noticed the case that he had requested being hurled through the air straight at him until it was too late.
With a dull thud it crashed into him at chest level, knocking him into the bulkhead. With a wave of his hand Jerot unlocked both sets of their stun cuffs and tried to pull his Master's saber from his belt. Obi-wan was still regaining his footing when Jerot's outstretched palm nearly grasped the saber, just moments before Zaann remotely switched it on, swinging its blazing green blade through his Padawan's torso.
With breath still caught in his lungs, Jerot collapsed to the ground in two misshapen heaps, most likely dead by the time he hit the floor, if not moments after. Obi-wan could hear a horrified scream rip from Anakin's lungs distantly as time seemed to slow down. The stink of charred flesh filled the small room as the saber arced back towards Obi-wan, aiming to take the head from his shoulders.
Quickly unfurling into a backbend Obi-wan missed the blade by mere inches. Rebounding fast he leapt into a crouch, his first inclination to get between Anakin and the monster that wanted him dead. Deliberation over how much better or worse he was in comparison could wait for later, when th
If Anakin were in better repair, the two of them might have been able to take Zaann on without a saber. Though with him on the edge of death, and even closer if he reached for the force at all, things were a bit tricky.
"This doesn't change anything. Both of you die in the end, that's just how your story ends." Zaann snarled maniacally.
Obi-wan ignored the taunt and waited patiently for Zaann to seek him out, cornering him and swinging at his midline. Just moments before the blade would have caught him, Obi-wan leapt up and over the man, grappling him from behind, keeping his body pressed tightly against Qualturus's for the sake of avoiding the man's saber swings.
With a low feral growl Zaann hooked one leg around Kenobi's and threw him forward over his shoulders. Obi-wan hit the ground with a breathtaking slam, staggering his offensive for just long enough for Zaann to bear down on him. He could feel the spittle of his attacker hot on his face, the beam of his saber even hotter. Obi-wan wrestled against the man's iron grip on the saber, keeping it just off of his flesh. If he faltered for even a second, he would be dead.
But suddenly Zaann began to gasp for air, a touch of panic lighting his violet eyes. His grip weakened, giving Obi-wan a reprieve in exertion. His wheezing became more scarce when his body was pulled- no- thrown across the room, landing against the solid durasteel hull. Obi-wan stared at the man's body that was held inches from the ground as he grabbed at his throat desperately, all swagger and self assurance bled from him as he all but silently begged for his life.
With a darkness flowing through him, Anakin sauntered menacingly over towards the man he had pinned there, seeming to savor the moment for all its irony. Without looking Anakin called Zaann's saber to his hand. Obi-wan sensed more power and mastery in his Padawan in that very moment, than he had during his entire apprenticeship. Something unlocked inside him, he could feel it. And he wasn't sure it was a good thing, either. But power looked good on Anakin Skywalker, he couldn't deny it. And that, along with so many other reasons, concluded the long list of why he wasn't good for him. But that could be dealt with later.
Slowly Anakin raised the saber against the Zabraks ribs, right over where his heart would be. He pressed the business end against his chest and waited, looking down into Zaann's eyes with what Obi-wan could only guess to be a look of subdued rage, perhaps a touch of vengeance. It was justified, after all. Of course that was the opinion of perhaps the worst Jedi in the Order, Obi-wan reminded himself.
Then the saber ignited, flashing green as Zaann let out a grunt before he collapsed onto the ground, Anakin falling with him.