"See there? Just light corrections. Easy now, don't pull back. The automatic piloting system will engage as soon as you drop control."

Obi-Wan's voice matched the warmth of the scarlet hue from the control panel, soothing every fileting and raw nerve Mardian felt beneath her skin. Had they not been abducted and taken offworld violently, piloting a starship would've been perhaps the most magical thing she'd ever done.

A childhood dream slipped from her fingers as she lifted her hands from the piloting control, adrenaline sending a slight tremble to her fingers. Her breathing hadn't fully recovered, every nerve utilized in the process of making oxygen held tight in her chest. She felt stitched together with wire like a repaired fence, rigid and unmoving as she drew her hand to her chest and massaged her palm nervously. Shallow breaths slipped past her lips as her eyes roamed the controls.

Kenobi had given her a fast course in flight. His laugh about her never piloting a starship still spilled across the open wounds of shock and terror like a honey-thick balm. Somehow he'd made the tension of their circumstances slip beneath the radar of her concerns. He was nonchalant and collected, as if he hadn't even been phased by killing men and taking control of a space worthy vessel.

"Maridian?"

Her eyes lifted to find him staring down at her with a troubled look. The force of his dark eyes felt as if they were trying to pry back her ribs and peek inside her armor. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling small as she fell back into the seat and sulked down. Her eyes cast to the floor, not wanting to see his placid mask of pleasantness anymore. Thoughts of Tatooine, her sisters and family, pulled her breathing to new levels of struggle.

She rubbed her arm and felt him sink into a crouch beside her chair. She didn't drag her eyes up from the floor. His hand came to cup her cheek, then lifted to press against her forehead. He turned her wrist and placed two fingers against the veins pumping blood through her body, and watched him count her respirations from the corner of her eye.

After a few moments of considerable silence he relaxed. "You seem better, my dear," his tone carefully pried, but was confident, "I know this is difficult –"

"I don't understand," she said with a cold monotone. Her heart trip-hammered and pulsed against her ribs painfully, as if it purposefully meant to strike out against her bones. "I want to understand…"

"Understand what?" he questioned softly. He squeezed her arm purposefully.

She lifted careful, timid eyes to his gaze. Maridian saw the hairline cracks of his façade grow as she pummeled him with grief and uncertainty. He shifted uncomfortably as she bristled in the chair, her spine rigidly straightening as she opened her shoulders against the back of the seat. An uneven breath slipped past her trembling lips and she bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain of how the direction of this conversation could go.

Dropping her eyes from his she scanned the controls looking for purpose, "...I want to go home. Why can't we go home?" Her brow avalanched and she felt something in her posture stiffen. Her eyes found his like they were pulled together magnetically. "We have a ship," her hand fanned across the control panel, "Let's go home, Obi-Wan."

The look he gave her was equal-parts shame and apology. His mouth shifted in uncertain patterns, as if he were chewing on what to say in response to her statement. His jocular and blank-behind-the-eyes stare was disarming and made her recoil, and she lifted her arm from beneath his hand. He looked dismissive, like he was speaking to a lesser officer, like she didn't understand. At the same time, his eyes were hollow of all ability to hide the truth, his tight smile more telling than a million words.

Anger stirred at the base of her spine. "We have a ship," he confirmed, nodding once, "that much is true. But, we don't have closure, Maridian. Talor is taking us to someone. Someone who, I am sure, will have no issue pursuing us back to Tatooine." Suddenly he reached for her shoulders and took them in strong, reassuring hands. "Understand something. This does not end until we find what Talor – and this contact – wants from us. Even if we resolve ways with Jabba the Hutt, Talor will not stop. Revenge is a strong motivator."

She flinched as he tightened his hold on her shoulder, trying her best not to grimace as the intensity of his words cracked like a whip. She screwed up her mouth to shoot something back, but he cut her off with sharp precision. "The only way to end this, Maridian, is to follow Talor and see where it ends."

Maridian attempted to keep up her frown, but her heart thudded harder in her chest. She could feel her armor slipping. Courage that had come to her aide many times before vaporized like water beneath burning suns. She wilted, feeling tears again. Maridian only realized she'd been nodding when curls from her disheveled hair fell into her face.

She reached for his hand not realizing hers was shaking. He took hers strongly and pressed a kiss into them. Everything about the gesture and his posture, the look on his face, was apologetic. Maridian suspected that if he would've had it his way, he would be here alone and she'd be far away.

Either way he would've been here, would've given anything to make this all disappear.

The next thought struck with enough force that it almost split the bones of her chest. This was why Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to tell her anything about his life. Why he was so vague, stonewalled, closed. It wasn't from lack of trust or a place of division. Like most things about the exiled Jedi Master, it was a move meant to keep others safe. Keep her safe.

Realization snapped her eyes up to grab his deep ones. He saw the moment it registered. Something of a thin smile played on his lips and he stood from beside her chair, not releasing her hands. His mouth parted to say something, but a chiming blitz from the control panel cut him off.

She jumped in the seat and Obi-Wan turned immediately to engage the flashing button. "It's a transmission," he took a glance over his shoulder to her and pressed a finger to his lips in the universal sign for silence. Plopping into the chair, he flicked the switch and raked back a handful of his hair, shaking tension out of his shoulders.

"This is Freighter Alpha hailing Freighter Bravo, are you reading?" Relief hit her like a cold blast when the other vessel spoke first. She watched Kenobi flick another switch before leaning forward to consider the communicator with a dismissive air, a smirk twisting the corner of his lips. The transmission repeated itself, "...Do you copy, Freighter Bravo? Landing point is coming up, please confirm status."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Sorry about that, Freighter Alpha. Having some issues with our comms. Yes, we receive. Status is go. We'll follow you on the drop." He manipulated a few more gauges and Maridian felt her throat beginning to swell with anxious heat. He tapped a reading gauge with his knuckle, "Reserves are sparse, Alpha. Flag us for fuel when we come in." His voice ebbed between fast and loose and uncultured with ease.

"Received, Bravo," all professionalism dropped out of the communicator's voice, "Let's hope Alderaan is generous with their go juice. Might not be so forthcoming after we tear their precious Organa limb from limb," wicked cackling fed through the communication like hot tar.

Maridian's heart came to a crashing halt in her chest. White-knuckling the armrests on either side of her, she watched Obi-Wan's easiness snap and fray into a rigid pillar of unmoving stone, the lines of his back steeled. A wash of anger spread over his face. His eyes darkened. She watched his hands ball into fists and feared that the bones of his fingers would snap under the intensity.

She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat and released a shuddering breath. The familiar demons of fear and anger ripped through the cockpit, threatening to shred her to bits. Kenobi shot daggers at the communications device and said nothing when Alpha's crew signed off. She felt the atmosphere pitch into a spiraling nosedive as he sat back and steeped his fingers beneath his nose in a pointed, angry way.

Who Organa was and what of their significance she didn't understand. She didn't need to. Words would only dig the grave deeper. Sensing something brewing deep within the Jedi's emotions, she went to stand, but Obi-Wan beat her to it. His breathing was shallow and intensified as his eyes fanned through the vermillion hue of the control panel, maybe looking for reason. Maybe out of anger. Maybe out of confusion.

All at once he lunged and sank hard, fierce fists into the control panel with a gut-wrenching, hot scream. She sat bolt upright. His roar shattered the comfortable orbit they'd created and it bled out of him like it had been ripped from his core. His voice cracked and panic lit up her veins.

Maridian hadn't ever imagined a Jedi reacting in such anger. From Kenobi it felt invasive and world-breaking, violating. She flinched and reeled back in the seat as if the attack had been directed at her. Uncertain of what to say, she said nothing and let the moment build. Her blood ran cold in her veins.

Eventually his posture slackened. For a moment Maridian thought Obi-Wan would drop to his knees, but he didn't. His arms weakened and he leaned over the panel, head hung low in defeat. The shake of his shoulders told her he was weeping. A gentle press of the Force revealed a tower of emotions that was unsurmountable and spun her head, so she backed off. Instead, she gently moved to her feet and reached for him.

He stood before she could intercept him fully, sending her bolt upright again. He shook his head which helped him pull back around. "We're landing in Alderaan," he said with purpose, running loose fingers through his hair. He attempted to shake tension from his shoulders and made a show of checking the control panel, Maridian watching him carefully with a guarded expression. He glanced over his shoulder.

Turning to face her, his chin lifted. "It's time to prepare. We'll be falling out of hyperspace and I'll need to be here when we do." Like that he snapped into dutiful purpose, as if he'd been left to command an armada at his disposal, every bit the Clone Wars General she imagined him being. He was cold and stoic, almost unreadable.

Maridian watched his eyes fell out of the piloting chamber and to the bodies they had tied up on the floor, still unconscious.

Moving to them briskly, he sank to his knees and considered the one man's stature, measuring him with careful looks. Maridian followed, watching as he began working out of his tunic. Her brow lifted in wild surprise as she leaned against the threshold, her mouth slightly parted to consider his actions before her lips screwed up in uncertainty.

Taking a glance over his shoulder at her, he began undressing the pilot. "Send Utarri and Sonika up here. I have a plan," she nodded and immediately went to leave, pushing off the threshold, though he reached across the floor for her arm. She staggered to a stop and his eyes scanned hers, searching. "Tell me you're alright, Maridian. That your head is here," every tone of his words implied it wasn't a request.

Her eyes moved over the features of his face, taking in the auburn hue of his hair. The deepness of his eyes. He was suddenly the Ben Kenobi she had fallen in love with, the man who had transformed her life. Her throat closed and her stomach swirled, sending pinpricks of chill through her blood. She curled her toes, and slowly nodded her understanding of his words. Her tongue was like cotton and she forced moisture in her mouth by working it against the wall of her cheek.

Looking to his hold on her arm, she released a deep sigh from her core. Putting a hand over his, she gave it a reassuring squeeze. If they were going to go home alive, if they were to remain together, she had say but to be alright. There was no choice, just like every other circumstance of her life.

"I'm alright, Obi-Wan," she consoled softly. "I'm alright."

She stepped beyond his grasp and moved down the hatch, taking off down the corridor in search of her friends.

XxxX

"You will never get away with this, Ventress."

The words rang hollow to his ears even as Bail Organa formulated them in his mind, but there was little else to say in light of such drastic circumstances. Bound to his office chair at the ankles with his arms behind his back, he watched the former Sith apprentice circle Breha and his daughter, her eyes flashing with an onyx wickedness this house had not tasted in generations.

A part of him had always feared this would come. The Clone Wars may have politically dissolved but there were innumerable enemies lurking in the far flung reaches of space that had reaped the sour fruit of his involvement. His support of the Jedi and the Republic would come with prices, he'd always known this. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon, or so personal.

Ventress oozed an evil he had only ever imagined. She was darker than Dooku, even more iniquitous than Palpitine. Her rage and hatred for anyone against her burned brighter than any star. Long ago Asajj had been cast out of her own house, left alone in the galaxy brewing in self pity and loathing. It had intensified her savage countenance, deepening it like a chasm.

Bail couldn't imagine being forsaken by the only thing you'd ever pledged yourself to and what that would do to a mind broken by defeat and rejection, but she was a good start. It didn't matter. His hatred for her cut like a scalpel and dissected any pity he may have felt. Ventress had spilled blood just as much as he had. Fate would catch up to her as the engines of time spun, like it was doing now.

She chuckled, dipped low to press her cheek against Breha's. "Oh come now, Bail," she teased him with a dripping lilt hanging off her words like a sticky poison, "Surely you can't still believe that Kenobi will rescue you like he has so many times before." Her eyes cut to him like blades, shredding his mask of strength.

"Kenobi's spirit is that of a Jedi. And the Jedi are dead," she enunciated pointedly.

The name sent him reeling. He hadn't spoken to Obi-Wan in months, almost a year. Had it been a year already since the fall? He hadn't known if he was alive or dead after he'd whisked the Skywalker daughter away to Alderaan, to her new life. While he'd regretted their lapse in communication, Bail would be the first to admit that the missing air of trouble the Jedi carried in his wake was a relief.

Kenobi. That's who this is all about, his gaze found the floor and his eyes moved back and forth thoughtfully. But why? Why them?

Breha's gasping breath snapped up his gaze. Fire burned in his veins and fanned red before his eyes. "Don't touch her!" He addressed Ventress's hand whisking over the crown of Leia's head. He rocked in the chair in his attempt to stand, "Ventress!" he hissed.

She laughed amusedly. Her tight smile of satisfaction split her lips. "Do calm down, Organa," she looked down to the babe and skipped a slow finger over her head, "Your child and your wife are of no consequence to me. They are, shall we say, collateral," her hand tittered through the air as if she were batting off a bothersome thought.

"Then please, let us go," Breha whimpered.

Leia babbled against her breast in the way that babies do in these situations. He could feel his composure beginning to slip as Leia continued to fuss. Breha's piercing eyes clawed for him, begging. Needful, seeking deliverance. Why? Why why why...

Patience was beginning to unravel in his chest. "Then tell me what you do want," he spat forcefully, balling his fists. "I have not had contact with Kenobi since Palpatine's Order 66." As soon as he said the words he regretted them, Never offer any information, Bail. It is the first rule, you fool!

Her cheshire grin widened as she took practiced, slow steps toward him. Ventress looked as if she were pleased with what he'd offered. Her feet wove carefully patterns across the floor as if she could sense the turbulent waters of his hatred stirring. She stopped and leaned into his face, the hood of her cloak shadowing her features just enough to give her an edge of otherworldliness, complimented by her pale complexion.

"So you do know," she clicked her tongue. Then she stood and straightened the lines of her back, her hands falling over the curved hilt of her lightsabers as she considered them lovingly, like one would an adoring pet. Her head canted to the side. "Kenobi will be landing on Alderaan in a matter of moments, Senator. He and his wife have sins of their own to atone for, to powerful people," she lifted the hilt and studied it in the fading light of his office, "I need him to come to me. And, if he feels compelled to save the life of an old friend to which he feels indebted, well…"

The words didn't need to be said. Bail read between the lines. He was bait, had always been bait. The attack on the treasury, the invasion of his house. It was all Obi-Wan. She wanted to kill the Jedi Master and he was the perfect set up.

One word returned. Wife. His blood sped faster through his veins and pounded between his ears. How was that possible?

It was like a dream. He was running too fast, his vision blurring as she smiled down into his face from her towering place over him. The gleam of her eyes, the flash of white teeth bared like an underwordly monster. His heart trip-hammered and pain screamed at him from his temple where a headache was blooming. Her sneer down into his face as she seized both arms of his chair raised his hair.

From the folds of her cloak she lifted a communication device. "Any time now, Bail, my men at the spaceport will signal Kenobi's landing. Then you may watch me skin the Jedi alive and eat his soul, and return him to Tatooine in ribbons."

Bail didn't want to show fear. He wasn't an easily intimidated man. But, the way she said it with such finality – it was a body-wide reaction. Impossible to hide. He released a trembling breath, closed his eyes, and thought to all the times Obi-Wan had saved his life.

All he could see was Breha's shaking hand as she held Leia to her breast, all thoughts of the Jedi Master set aside to his trembling fear in this room.