Chapter 20: Abandonment Issues
Anakin awoke in the comforts of a large bed and fine sheets. They were cool and smooth against his skin and Anakin snuggled close to it with a smile on his face. His eyes fluttered, the world around him coming together.
Morning arrived and that meant he could have breakfast on the terrace with Padmé and Obi-Wan, overlooking the grinned at the prospect and stretched his arms up over his head. He was excited to start the day! He twisted in his bed, still stretching as he reached over to nudge Obi-Wan awake.
He only felt air.
Anakin flipped over and found the other side of his bed empty and made as if no one slept there last night. He lifted his head up from the pillow, his sleepy eyes distorted his vision. Bit by bit, he gained clarity until, like a bolt of lightning, everything became real. He sat up. His eyes surveyed the room, taking in the drastic different settings. The room he awakened to was open, constructed into a single room. Dark grey-blue walls and beige carpet contrasted the elegance and marble structure of the Naboo palace. This room held a more modern appeal. On the other side of the room were two sofa-couches, a holo-screen for entertainment purposes and a round table that provided only two chairs. Above him was a single chandelier, its crystals hanging like icicles.
This was not the room he fell asleep to last night.
He suspiciously glanced around the room. "Obi-Wan?" Anakin called, his voice croaking from lack of use. "Obi-Wan? Are you here?"
No response.
Anakin searched through the Force, but found nothing. He yanked on their Force bond. Obi-Wan hated when Anakin yanked, but it always got Obi-Wan's attention rather quickly.
It didn't this time. He got no response. Nothing. Only dead silence.
A chill ran up his spine. It's cold touch sliding over his skin and encasing him in ice. He stealthily slid off the bed. Feet cushioned by the soft carpet, Anakin stalked across the room in high alert. He kept his senses wide opened, clinging to the hope that he would find Obi-Wan. He moved to the window, peaking out and to his astonishment, he saw not the luscious green landscape of Naboo. Instead, he saw spiraling, high-technology skyscrapers constructed out of permacrete, beskar iron and transparisteel, trapped inside a large ceiling dome.
Anakin gaped at the sight, puzzled. "Where am I?"
He backed away from the window. Strange place. Strange room. And, no Obi-Wan. It only meant one thing.
He was kidnapped.
Anakin crossed the room to the door. He twisted the knob and opened a crack. Peering out, he saw a long corridor decorated in murals depicting what Anakin imagined was city's history. He checked down both sides. Not a single person patrolled the corridor. That was fortunate for him.
Cautiously, Anakin stepped out of the room and slinked down the corridor, hugging close to the walls. If he found a hanger, he could commandeer a ship and flee. It was his only chance to escape this imprisonment. He followed the corridor, reaching for a new door. He glanced behind him to ensure he wasn't being followed. He was all alone.
Anakin hesitated. Maybe it was a trap? After all, no one would leave him alone unless they truly believed he could not escape. Was it a ploy? Were they testing him?
He delved into the Force, searching for an answer. He wished Obi-Wan was with him. He would know what to do and what was happening. Instinctively, Anakin reached through the bond again and tugged. Still no response. The emptiness on the other side curdled Anakin's stomach and sent another shiver down his spine. Where was Obi-Wan? Why was he not answering?
Realizing he couldn't simply stay put, Anakin wretched the door opened and stepped through. He hurried down the corridor, passing columns, murals and windows without any glances. He needed a ship. He needed to escape and find Obi-Wan. He turned down another corridor, surprised to find that there was still no one around to catch him in the act of escaping. Again, he felt he was walking into a trap.
He slipped between two pillars, surveying the layout to decide his next direction when one of the side doors opened. A man with a blonde goatee and dressed in a heavy white robe strode out, flanked by two guards. The man came to a dead halt upon spying Anakin huddled between two pillars.
Anakin stared at the man.
The man stared right back.
Both not moving and not saying a word.
Then, the man release a long sigh of relief. "There you are!" he stated. "You had me worried. You weren't in your room—"
Anakin blasted out of his hiding spot. He sprinted down the corridor, not looking back as the man shouted after him. His sleuthing was over. He was caught and time clocked down for him. He pumped his arms, calling on the Force to accelerate his speed. He whipped down the corridor, sliding on the tile flooring as he rushed for the next pair of double doors, praying that it was either an exit or a hanger.
"Stop him!" came a scream far behind him.
Suddenly, several guards came out of nowhere, surrounding him with raised staffs. Anakin slid to a halt. Quick breaths, he looked side to side, sizing up each guard to find the weakness. Obi-Wan told him to look for every weak point and used it against the opponent. At the moment, it seemed Anakin was out-numbered and completely unarmed.
There was no escape.
The guards parted and the man Anakin ran into earlier came bustling down the corridor. He too was out of breath by the time he got to the circle. Panting, he stared down at Anakin, bewildered. "You're a quick devil!" he said between breaths. "Why did you go running off like that?"
Anakin opted to say nothing.
The man shrugged, giving up on trying to make conversation. "Not much of a talker, are you?" he commented. "That's fine. We don't have to talk. I'm Almec. The Prime Minister. Let me escort you to our leader."
Anakin realized he had no choice. With all the guards and their weapons, he would have to follow. He tugged again on the Force bond, pleading with Obi-Wan to answer. There was still no sign coming from the other end.
Obi-Wan wasn't dead. Anakin knew. Somehow, he knew Obi-Wan wasn't dead. Despite the lack of response and the emptiness feeling from the other end, Anakin instinctively knew Obi-Wan wasn't dead. That made the situation worse. If Obi-Wan wasn't dead, then why wasn't he responding to Anakin?
Almec and a handful of guards led Anakin down the corridor, speaking about matters that Anakin didn't even concern himself. His thoughts were preoccupied with worries over Obi-Wan's disappearance and Padmé. What happened to her? Did the bad guys get her as well as Obi-Wan?
Almec finally stopped at the door. It parted open and he gestured Anakin to step inside. Anakin did as instructed, eyeing the new room. High ceilings and mosaic windows brought an elegance he didn't expect upon entering. The sunlight glazed the room in gold, bringing a sense of warmth and ease to the setting despite the tension building up inside Anakin. The room was long and contained only an elongated, rectangular table and tall chairs positioned. There were a few costumed guards stationed in different places around the room, standing at attention. No one looked at him. Except for the person sitting at the very end of the table.
Dressed in a blue dress and wearing a jeweled headband, she raised her gaze from her plate of food to the opened door. Her blonde hair brushing her shoulders as it swayed with the movement. She smiled and rose from her seat.
Anakin recognized her immediately.
It was Satine. The Duchess of Mandalore. And supposedly Obi-Wan's friend.
"Anakin," she greeted. "I'm sure you must be hungry. Why don't you join—"
In a heightened rage of betrayal, Anakin shouted over her words. "You!" he cried. "You kidnapped me?"
Duchess Satine was startled by his outburst. "What? No! I didn't—"
"Obi-Wan will find me!" Anakin declared, face flushed in deep crimson. The Force sparked in reaction to his outburst, turbulence unbalancing him. "He always finds me! And, when he does, you'll regret it! He will cut down every single one of—"
"That is enough!" Duchess Satine cut Anakin off. She didn't looked quite pleased anymore. That was fine with Anakin. His judgment of her plummeted when she kidnapped him from Obi-Wan and Padmé.
She moved around the table. Every guard in the room took notice and readjusted themselves to adequately protect her. As the Duchess neared Anakin, she dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a folded flimsi.
"Obi-Wan wrote this letter for you," the Duchess said, passing the note to Anakin. "It should explain everything."
Anakin tentatively took the note from the Duchess. Carefully, he unfolded the flimsi and was surprised to recognize Obi-Wan's handwriting.
Anakin,
Forgive me for what I have done. As I'm sure you are aware, you are no longer in Naboo. I have entrusted you and your care to my good friend, Satine. She will care and protect you until I return.
I know you are upset and hurt, but it was done for the best intentions. You were in grave danger! I had to get you off Naboo and somewhere far away so that the Sith wouldn't find you. I'm sorry I cannot be with you at the moment. I wish I was, but I need to keep the Sith away from you.
Once I lose them, I'll come back for you. I promise. The Duchess has granted you asylum and you will be under the disguise as a long-lost nephew. Until then, be respectful and considerate to her. And practice your training!
Again, Anakin, I'm sorry for the deceit. I only want to keep you safe. I will see you soon.
Promise.
Obi-Wan
Anakin read the letter twice. It felt heavy in his hand. Each word a weight he could not readily bear.
Obi-Wan left him.
Abandoned him.
He lied and deserted him on a strange planet.
Left with only a promise.
Unsteady breaths released the building of shock that rocked him. He swallowed the pain and strengthen the dam. He could not cry. Not in front of all these people.
Anakin's hands trembled as he carefully folded the flimsi, crunching it in his hand as he tried to not think of the betrayal. Why did Obi-Wan leave him? They were a team. Weren't they? Why did Obi-Wan feel the need to be responsible for everything? To go off alone—confront the Sith alone—was madness! Obi-Wan shouldn't be alone. Obi-Wan needed to be protected as much as Anakin needed protection. They were in this together. This was their fight. Not just Obi-Wan's alone.
It was their fight!
The Duchess watched with somber flickers, unsure whether to offer comfort or solitude for the boy. After consideration, she made up her mind. "Would you care for something breakfast, Ani?" she offered, gesturing to the bountiful dishes of fruits and assorted meats. "I'm sure you are quite hungry."
He wasn't. Not anymore. "I'm… I don't feel well," Anakin muttered, looking back to the doors he entered. "I-I want to go back to my room."
Duchess Satine understood and chose to lead him back to his assigned bedroom. Anakin tottered along, keeping quiet as his mind cried out for Obi-Wan, pleading that it was all a dream and he wasn't alone. But every tug he made on their bond reminded him that it was all too real. Obi-Wan wasn't here. He wasn't with him.
Anakin was very much alone.
When they arrived back at his bedroom, Anakin was too lost and too sadden to remember the proper respect to a royal member. He simply pushed open the door and walked into the room, his feet slapping the carpet with finality.
"He'll come back, Anakin," Satine reassured as Anakin stopped halfway to the bed. "I know Obi-Wan. He'll come back for you."
Anakin bleakly looked back at the Duchess. Confidence heightened her words, resembling almost a promise. Anakin knew better. After living on the run for almost his entire life, he knew better that promises could be broken.
He swallowed hard. "He shouldn't have to come back for me at all."
Anakin didn't care to see the Duchess's reaction. He marched to the bed and fell on it, curling around the fabric to warm his cold chest. The flimsi was still clutched in his hand, gripping it as a way to stay close to Obi-Wan. It was his handwriting and it might possibly be the last thing Anakin would ever have left of him.
Obi-Wan's awakening was not a gentle transition. It was a sharp slap that screamed his mind to wake. His eyes snapped opened, vision distorted that all he could see were black shadows and shades of brown. His head rolled to the side, eyes blinking rapidly to quickly regain sight.
The image before him was chaotic. Everything blended together and he felt wind fluttered around him. Loud clicks and snaps pounded his head like a zealous techno-music. Another slap jolted his vision right. The shadows sharpened into unique individuals and the brown shades turned into a cavernous wall that enclosed around him. It was nothing like Naboo. Whereas Naboo was well-rounded, smooth and regal, the room he was trapped in was rough-edged, sharp, dark edges and utilitarian layout.
Obi-Wan glanced up. He was underground and possibly in a cave based off the craggy ceiling. As to where, Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure. Another flutter caught his attention and Obi-Wan recoiled at the sight of a strange-looking face flapping in front him. Obi-Wan recognized the species as Geonosian. They had slender frames with leathery wings right behind their bony shoulders. With reddish skin, rigid skulls and thick, bulbous eyes, they were not attractive creatures. Not with perpetual scowls frozen on their large and elongated faces.
The Geonosian flapped closer and Obi-Wan recoiled only to realize he was chained up to the wall. He could not move. The Geonosian clucked and clipped at him, the communication lost in translation.
The Geonosian's frown drew longer and spoke again—louder. Again, Obi-Wan had no idea. "Speaking louder doesn't translate your words," he said.
The Geonosian's hand flew up and slapped his cheek. Apparently, he understood Basic.
"Enough!"
The Geonosian flapped to the side, revealing the slender figure of the Dathomirian assassin. She strutted toward Obi-Wan, her hips swaying as she approached and her lips pulled high up in delight. Her white fingers reached up to Obi-Wan, stroking his chin. Her nails pressed against his skin and left a long white, mark as she dragged the nails down his jawline.
Obi-Wan pulled his head away and he heard the woman cruelly laugh at his expense. "Look at you, Kenobi," she sneered at his imprisonment. "You look terrible."
Obi-Wan stared back at her. A hint of smile flickering on his face. "When compared to your beauty, my dear," he said with a glint in his eye. "I have no doubt."
The woman bristled. She didn't expect that response. "Your charms are ineffective on me."
"Yet, I find myself alive," Obi-Wan pointed out, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. "After all, last we met, you were most determined to kill me. Has our brief encounter gave you a change of heart?"
She bared her teeth, letting out a low snarl. "Why would it? You're nothing, but scum. A false Jedi!" She spoke in a low and ragged passion as she turned her shoulder to him. "You don't deserve their attention."
Obi-Wan poised a brow, arching high. "Ah… you speak of Qui-Gon and Dooku?" he said, catching the woman's flicker of recognition upon the names. "You do work for them. I thought so. One of their assassins? Yes, of course. Your fighting is similar to Dooku's. I guess he trained you?"
The woman said nothing, but her cheeks reddened and there was a turbulent disturbance radiating off her. Obi-Wan hung in his chains, relaxed. "I assume they promised you apprenticeship if you captured me?" Another snarl from her answered his question. "You should know—they won't take you as their apprentice. Deceit is the way of the—"
"You think I don't know that?! That even after all this time, they still want you!" she screamed and glared at him, embroiled with emotion. "I do! I've always known! Every day for the past six years, all I ever heard was Kenobi this! Kenobi that!" She snatched his face, squeezing it so that his lips pursed. "It's all I ever heard! How great Obi-Wan Kenobi was. Well—"
She threw his face away from her and pulled out a dark mask. She greedily fingered it as she looked from the mask to Obi-Wan. "I have a present for you, Kenobi," she said in a sweet devilish tone. "A gift that will prove to my masters the truth about you!"
Obi-Wan eyed the mask. All the humor vanished and his heart drummed madly. He knew what that mask was. He's seen it on Serenno.
A Sith Mask.
The woman caught the scent of his fear. "Yes… you must recognize it," she said sweetly with a feral grin. "A treasure among Sith artifacts."
Obi-Wan leaned back, the back of his skull pressed into the cavern walls. The woman enjoyed his fear, engulfing herself in it. "Why don't you try it on?"
It was a pointless struggle. The woman easily covered Obi-Wan's entire head in the mask. The only holes available were for his eyes. He was given a clear view of the assassin's sneer. She was pleased, her hands hugging her hips as she rocked in desire at the sight. Her fingers slid against her own chin as she hungrily watched Obi-Wan struggle to temper the mask's powers.
Obi-Wan couldn't feel the Force. All he sensed was dark energy, drilling into his mind and soul. The Dark Side's oil tendrils wrapped around him, tainting every sense of feeling, touch, smell and sight. He reached deeper into the Force, trying to draw any light to shield himself, but everything was clouded and darkening. Like poison.
The woman darkly chuckled. "Do you feel it?" she cooed at him. "The Dark Side? The mask is imbued with dark energy. Prevents you from accessing to the Force while incising you with the dark energy."
She waltzed over, so close that her breath nearly dried Obi-Wan's eyes. She grabbed the back of Obi-Wan's head, jerking him up so that she could glorify in his pain. "Soon, they'll see what you truly are," she said with heated breath. "That you're nothing more than a broken man. Weak and pathetic. Then they shall accept me as their apprentice."
Obi-Wan saw in her eyes a lust that burned inside her. A fire unable to extinguished until he crumbled at her feet a broken man. "Once you're gone," she hummed, victorious. "I will have a new master!"
The woman let him go and his head fell forward. He heard her snap commands to the Geonosians and the collusion of doors that ensured he was trapped in the room. Obi-Wan growled at his lack of Force connection. Perhaps she found a way to torture him, but he refused to break. For three years under Sith authority and not once did they convert him into a Sith. If Dooku and Qui-Gon failed to convert him, then the woman would only find disappointment.
He would not break. Not for her. Not for anyone.
Qui-Gon sat in his cockpit, steering the ship in the direction to Geonosis. When he was far away from Coruscant, he set up a comlink transmission. It wasn't a long wait. Soon, a blue holo-image of Ventress appeared on his control panel.
Ventress bowed before him as expected. "Yes, my Master."
Qui-Gon tapped his fingers against the control panel, studying her face. "Did you intercept the package?"
Ventress closed her arms behind her back. A similar gesture to Dooku's casual, confident manner. "Intercepted and delivered, Master," she confirmed before adding. "Though… the boy wasn't on board."
Anakin wasn't with Obi-Wan? Certainly they wouldn't separate. Unless… Obi-Wan thought it would be for the best. Even then Anakin would refuse to be separated from his guardian. "Are you sure the boy wasn't on the ship?" Qui-Gon inquired.
Ventress nodded affirmatively. "I am certain. We checked and killed all on board," she reported. "No boy. Only Kenobi."
Better to have one than none at all, Qui-Gon reminded himself. "Good work, Ventress," he returned. "I'll be landing in a few hours. Be sure Obi-Wan is ready upon my arrival."
A flash of envy ran across her face. Her jawline became more prominent and her eyes fell to slits for a brief second before returning to normal size. She rigid herself back into an imposing and diligent posture, but already Qui-Gon saw the cracks.
Ventress tried to hide her stiff posture with an attempted graceful bow. "Yes, my Master."
Qui-Gon turned off the transmission and eased himself back in his seat. It was no big surprise that Ventress's fury swelled at the end of their communications. There was always a lingering jealousy from either Ventress or Maul. Already, he and Dooku were aware they both despised Obi-Wan with passion that was equivalent to their hunger for power. Their anger of Obi-Wan only increased upon their defeat at his hands.
Qui-Gon held no doubt that Maul would have snapped Obi-Wan's neck if Obi-Wan wasn't quick enough with the blade to the abdomen. And Ventress… well, he'll be there in three hours so Qui-Gon doubt she would be capable of doing anything too damaging. If she did... well, Qui-Gon wouldn't mind practicing a lightsaber technique on her.
He exhaled, the pent up anticipation released into the Force. They finally captured one of them. Obi-Wan was in their custody and as long as Ventress doesn't mess up, Qui-Gon would have his old padawan again.
Seven years. It had been seven years since Obi-Wan ran away. All that time, he grew into a powerful Force user, dodging bounty hunters and Jedi alike. Then outmaneuvering the Trade Federation and defeating both Ventress and Maul, Qui-Gon could not be more proud of the man Obi-Wan has become. His powers have grown and with his capture, they are nearing to the prophesied future.
With Obi-Wan under their care, it would only by a matter of days before they found Anakin. He sensed their separation won't last very long. After all, their Force bond is too strong for either of them to willing let go of the other. A defect in acquiring strong Force bonds. But it would work well enough for Qui-Gon's and Dooku's plans for them.
Qui-Gon watched the distance numbers get smaller as he traveled through hyperspace. He could not stop the grin forming on his face. He had missed Obi-Wan and was greatly looking forward to their second (and last) reunion.
He would not lose him! Not again. He made a promise. A long ago promise made in a different time. A promise he refused to break—couldn't break. He intended to uphold that deathbed promise for as long as he was alive.