Chapter 26: A Strength in Bonds
Qui-Gon slipped away from the room. He still heard the commotion Obi-Wan made in retaliation. It was pointless to resist. The magna guards wouldn't release him until he was fully strapped on the gurney. That didn't stop Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon quietly entered the next room where he witnessed the struggle between Obi-Wan and the magna guards. Obi-Wan had flipped over them, but they still held onto his arms. Eventually, the struggle ended when the medical droid zapped Obi-Wan. His muscles weakened and the magna guards took that brief intermission and securely strapped him onto the gurney. The medical droid spoke to him, trying to garnered information about any medical problems it should be aware of before starting. Obi-Wan wasn't responding to the droid. His cheek was pressed flat against the gurney and he looked straight at him like he easily saw through the tinted window.
Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan couldn't see him, but it still unnerved him. Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes stared straight at him with fear and trepidation. He saw Obi-Wan's mouth move, but didn't make out the words. Whatever it was, Obi-Wan turned away and unnervingly gazed up at the medical droid.
It didn't have to be this way, Qui-Gon reflected. He gave Obi-Wan every chance to reveal Anakin's location. Every chance—even at the last minute. But, Obi-Wan refused and now it came to this. Already Qui-Gon wanted to look away, but out of respect, he looked on as the medical droid hooked Obi-Wan up to the equipment and taped electrodes to his head.
Qui-Gon tumbled the ends of his robe, twisting the fabric around his finger as the medical droid finished its prep on Obi-Wan. His heart tore, bleeding and flooding him in painful ruminations. Obi-Wan's chest rose and fell in quick successions. Quick and shallow. High trepidation.
He dropped his hands to the desk, gripping the edge as a clutch to stop his descent. He wasn't falling. Not physically. But falling nonetheless.
The opening of the door caused Qui-Gon to snap to the right. The sweeping of a cloak and the shine of silver hair signaled the grand arrival of Count Dooku. He swept right next to Qui-Gon, regarding Obi-Wan's strapped position. He assessed the trapped man with narrowed eyes.
"What did I miss?" Dooku inquired.
"Nothing yet," Qui-Gon muttered. He was surprised how fast Dooku got to Serenno. He only spoke to his master a few hours ago. "The medical droid is finishing his prep."
Dooku waved and a chair appeared. He took a seat. "I take he didn't agree with your terms?"
Qui-Gon kept his eyes on Obi-Wan, who tried to flinch away from the medical droid. "He believes he is protecting Anakin."
Dooku raised a brow, but whatever he wanted to say was cut off by the medical droid. It spoke through the speaker, grabbing their attention immediately. "Everything is operational and ready."
Qui-Gon clipped the communication center to reply. "We need his vitals on the screen," he said to the droid. Few seconds later, a screen came to life and Obi-Wan's vitals appeared. All were normal. Well, on the low-side of normal. Qui-Gon needed to work on getting Obi-Wan back to perfect health.
His master merely glanced at the screen, apathetic. "Are you sure this will even work, Qui-Gon?" he questioned with raised, susceptible brows. "A crude device if you ask me."
"Crude perhaps, but effective if used correctly. Revan believed it to be possible for a strong Force bond to achieve greater Force abilities," Qui-Gon replied as he observed Obi-Wan squirm under the restraints. "Obi-Wan and Anakin have the strongest bond I've ever seen. Or even one record. I'm sure you agree with that assessment."
Dooku inclined his head, relenting that he came to the same conclusion. "I conversed with a few Councilors on the matter. They said even Master Yoda has never seen such attachment between two Force sensitives."
"Yes, which—if we get this running—will help us locate Anakin through Obi-Wan."
Dooku raised a skeptical and distrusting brow to his former apprentice. "You hope to increase his power?"
"Not increase," Qui-Gon corrected. Obi-Wan and Anakin didn't needed the extra dosage nor did Qui-Gon want to corrupt a pure Force bond. The Force designed them for a reason. Qui-Gon had no desire to go against the nature of the Force. He wanted both Obi-Wan and Anakin untainted so that he may watch and observe the true power of the Force. "No, this will target the midichlorians they already possess. Like overworking a muscle you have, but hardly use. It's there, but untrained."
Dooku mused over the explanation with a critical crease between his eyebrows and a perturbed frown. "And what if it doesn't work, Qui-Gon?" he asked the one question that plagued the room. "What if there is a possibility Obi-Wan cannot do this?"
"He's strong. He can do it."
"Qui-Gon," Dooku groaned, followed by a terrible sigh of vexation. "While I am impress by your faith in him, there may be irreversible damage. If Obi-Wan fails to respond, then we lose our only chance of finding the boy."
Qui-Gon set his jaw. "He can do it."
Dooku assessed him with incredulity. "You should have let me interrogate him before resorting to this," he said, disapprovingly. "I would have extracted the location within seconds."
Qui-Gon didn't even want to know how Dooku would accomplish such a feat. And from Obi-Wan, no less. If Obi-Wan was like his younger self, he would never have given in. Obi-Wan would have died in silence under Dooku's brand of greeting. "This will work, Master. I studied Revan's notes and… it will work," he asserted—more for himself than for Dooku's benefit. He took a calming breath. "Besides, this process won't require extreme pain… for very long."
Dooku trenchantly lifted his brows, a wry grin twisting his aquiline features, but obligated not to comment. He reclined in his chair, hands neatly placed on his lap as the droid started. Qui-Gon leaned forward. Eyes inches from the glass as he harrowingly watched Obi-Wan react to the process.
Obi-Wan's hands curled in constricted fists, eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted in a single, sharp concentration of pain. Qui-Gon flinched. A simmering volcanic reaction coming to life just underneath his heart. A deep urge to run out the door and stop it all at once, but he remembered. It needed to be done. Despite his feelings on the matter, it had to be done.
Qui-Gon reached for the Force for stability and guidance. He asked for one request—just one. He wanted the Force to shield most of the pain. Spare Obi-Wan from too much torture. That was his final request for he could not bear watching his padawan in distress.
When it came, Obi-Wan wasn't expecting a burst of light to engulf him.
He snapped his eyes shut. The Force tilted or maybe he tilted. It was hard to find any balance. All too uneven and delicate that a single movement may result in a catastrophic collapse. But then, a sharp, striking pain erupted behind his eyes. A single thrust of dark energy pulverizing his conscious. It burned every inch of him, the fire tormenting his nerves. Unyielding and merciless. It sent him spiraling into a fit. An intense heat scorched him, a sleek shine of sweat on his paled skin. Obi-Wan struggled to breathe, gasping in labored pants that helped little in stability.
Until his breath stopped in his chest. An inconsiderable amount of weight pressured into him. In that brief moment of time, Obi-Wan tipped back and plummeted over into the dark, cold depths of eternity. He fell at an incredible speed, his life ripped away from flesh. Until his descent was stopped by a safety net. The Force cocooned him: Pain, relief, disturbance and serenity. A balance.
Obi-Wan peeled back his eyelids and was wondered by the magnificent view. He wasn't strapped to a gurney. Nor was there a medical droid poking him or magna guards posted at the door. The Force surged, a rising tide of hope overcoming him. He was floating, drifting along the stream of the Force. A single touch sent a ripple. As to where, Obi-Wan was not quite certain. He felt connected not just with the Force, but with the galaxy itself.
He never felt more alive than now.
As he wandered through the majestic tour, he spotted a bright dot. It called to him, luring him with a song that Obi-Wan could not resist. He followed it, moving quicker as the light grew brighter. The closer he got, the warmer he felt. The cold melted off his skin and the lingering throb of pain receded. As he drew near, the Force fused into an image.
It was a room. Fashioned with upscale furniture and modern architecture. Obi-Wan surveyed the area, uncertain how he came to this room and what meaning it had for him. When he came upon the bed, the meaning became clear.
Anakin Skywalker was tucked under the covers, undergoing a fitful sleep.
Obi-Wan went to his side. His hand moved to the boy's forehead to settle his nightmares, when his hand ghosted through him. Obi-Wan pulled back at once, wide-eyed at what happened. He gaped at his hand to Anakin. Was it… did Qui-Gon… was he—
Luminous beings, we are. Not this gross matter.
Master Yoda spoken those words to them as younglings. Obi-Wan didn't comprehend it as a youngling, but now, after seeing his hand ghost through Anakin, he understood. His sense of self did not belong to a body. It belonged within him.
Still, this was an opportunity. He could warn Anakin of the danger. Warn him of Geonosis, the droid army and the slaves trapped on Serenno. Tell him everything so that he could warn the Council.
Obi-Wan crouched next to the bed. "Anakin," his voice drifted in the fine winds of the Force.
Anakin's brows furrowed.
The boy sensed him. That was promising. "Anakin," Obi-Wan urged again. "Anakin—open your eyes, young one."
Obi-Wan touched Anakin's bright presence, melding their Force presence together. "Anakin…"
It worked. Anakin's eyes flew open. "Obi-Wan?" his voice croaked in a guttural whisper.
The corner of Obi-Wan's lips tugged into a smile upon hearing Anakin's voice. The whispering promise of salvation.
Obi-Wan went to speak again when he was yanked away. Freezing, limbered claws pierced his shoulders and unceremoniously dragged him out of the room. He heard Anakin calling for him as the room swirled out of focus before it went out of sight entirely.
Obi-Wan resisted. He thrashed his arms and legs as the Force churned in turbulence upon his reaction. The renewed hope and serenity vanished, replaced by stabbing of needles as if he was being stitched back together. Obi-Wan cried out, trying to swipe out with the Force, but there was nothing to hit. Him alone to fight. An imagery of a darker self. He repulsed at the image, tumbling awkwardly through the Force like an untrained youngling.
All he wanted was to return to the Force's safety net.
A red haze defiled his vision and a pulsating throb overcame him that it was too unbearable to move. He was paralyzed, struck down and nailed back to the gurney that shot shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. Pins and needles massaged his legs and arms as his chest strained to rise for even a single whisper of breath.
He had returned. Back to the medical room. Back to Serenno. Back to Qui-Gon's captive.
The medical droid zoomed in overhead, using a light to check his pupils.
Obi-Wan blinked and found himself out of focus again. Anakin's voice echoed in his ears. But it all came and went as quickly as he blinked again, refocused on the droid speaking to him. "Master Kenobi," the droid's programmed voice greeted him. "Remain relaxed."
If only he could, Obi-Wan thought to himself. If only.
Qui-Gon had to refrain himself from ending the experiment. The second the medical droid enacted the procedure, Obi-Wan cried out, eyes slammed shut as he bore the pain coursing through him. Qui-Gon kept a tight grip on the counter to prevent him from either falling to the floor or sprinting to the other room. It was troubling—disturbing—to watch his padawan endure pulsing agony.
Come on, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon repeated in his head as a sleek shine of sweat glazed over his padawan's skin. You can do it. Focus.
He flickered to the screens, vigilant as he observed Obi-Wan's vitals. It wavered, dangerously leveling at high marks that required the medical droid to pump in medicine to keep his heart steady. Still, it didn't ease the tension building in Obi-Wan's muscles.
The medical droid kept updating Qui-Gon and Dooku of the process. Dooku didn't react at all. He viewed the scene with dispassion, not moved by Obi-Wan's shouts or unsettling quietness. Qui-Gon was the opposite. When Obi-Wan went limp, Qui-Gon's brain short-circuited. He pressed himself close to the glass, reaching through the Force to his padawan and grasping any trace of Obi-Wan's presence. But it was so distant. Far, far away from him.
Qui-Gon flashed to the screen. "What's happening?" he demanded of the droid.
The medical droid zoomed up to the front glass. "All vitals are normal," it reported.
"Then why is he—"
"Your former padawan is fine, Qui-Gon," Dooku said. He drew up another chair. "You're losing control. You're better than that. Now—sit down."
"He could be—"
"Do not let your compassion divert you off from the mission," Dooku's face hardened with barely concealed fury. "We all have our parts and our choices on how to go about them. If Kenobi prefers the hard way, then let him do so for he may learn a few lessons along the way." He then brutally gestured back to the seat. "Now for Force's sake—sit down!"
Qui-Gon didn't want to sit down. "I-I can't feel him in the Force."
Dooku closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. For a minute, he stayed motionless and then he reopened his eyes. "He's alive," he confirmed to Qui-Gon. Dooku's fury dissolved and he suddenly appeared to be in a generous mood. It was rare to ever receive affirmation from the legend. Or any consoling gestures. But, it didn't last long. His mouth thinned and his voice dropped to a serious exhortation "Now, quell that fear and sit."
Qui-Gon abided and took a seat on the proffered chair. Dooku readjusted the chains of his cloak. "What happened to that faith of yours?" Dooku asked, caustically.
A well-earned strike, but Qui-Gon wasn't down yet. "Obi-Wan can do this," Qui-Gon matched Dooku in severity.
Dooku tilted his head as a smug grin appeared. "We shall see."
His master never had much faith in Obi-Wan. When he first met Obi-Wan as a fifteen year old padawan, his assessment of the boy was poor. He confided to Qui-Gon that he thought the boy was too stubborn in his thinking. Obi-Wan couldn't be swayed or even understand the drastic measurements they needed to do. A liability was what Dooku called Ob-Wan. Qui-Gon had to release him.
Qui-Gon disagreed and argued for Dooku to take Obi-Wan under his wing for a week before negotiating it to a single day. Dooku reluctantly agreed in order to please him. Afterwards when Dooku returned Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon's care, Dooku had a change of heart. He told Qui-Gon he may keep him. Dooku didn't give any explanations for the change. Qui-Gon, however, didn't need to know. He already knew Obi-Wan was special and Dooku must have realized it too.
Still, Dooku was rather harsh on Obi-Wan. He expected a lot from the padawan, constantly training him at all times—day and/or night. He drilled him, running Obi-Wan to exhaustion that his padawan acted paralyzed on his bed the following day. Qui-Gon tried to give Obi-Wan some relief, allocating time for his apprentice to rest. Dooku argued he spoiled the boy. "Obi-Wan needs a strong hand guiding him, Qui-Gon," Dooku reprimanded him many years ago when Qui-Gon told Dooku that Obi-Wan and he were spending the day admiring the sights of Serenno. "Or else he'll be an insolent brat."
But Obi-Wan didn't become a spoiled brat. He turned out to be an ideal apprentice. Strong and fast and intelligent beyond his years. He kept up with Qui-Gon and Dooku in duels—well, kept up longer than other padawans would. A bright pupil and exceeded his peers by a landslide. Qui-Gon was very proud of Obi-Wan. He sensed a greatness within Obi-Wan.
However, that greatness dimmed as Obi-Wan remained comatose on the table.
Come on, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon said again. You can do this.
A beep. Both Qui-Gon and Dooku looked to the screen.
Another beep. They both scooted closer to the screen, a bright display of numbers appeared across the screen. They both studied the numbers. An awakening hope resonated between them. It worked! They have found the distance between Obi-Wan's and Anakin's Force bond. Pleased with the key, Qui-Gon shot a look to the window with reigning anticipation and a grin stretched high up his cheeks.
Obi-Wan was awake. The young man's eyes blinked up at the medical droid. His fingers flexed and his chest unsteadily rose in shallow gasps. He was alive. Alive! Obi-Wan did it. Qui-Gon's theory was proven correct. Qui-Gon wanted to hug his padawan, ruffle the young man's head and tell him how proud he was.
Dooku pulled up a map of the galaxy and drew the radius. A fair amount of planets hit the mark. Dooku scowled, discontent with the lack of narrowed focus. "It may take time for us to cover all these planets."
Qui-Gon forcibly looked away from Obi-Wan and stared at the map. It only took him a minute to know where Anakin was. He pointed to a planet in the Outer Rim Territories. "Anakin's here," he said to Dooku. "On Mandalore."
"Mandalore?" Dooku mused, a gleam of delight shining in those dark pools. "Ah, yes. Of course. It appears the Duchess still carries a torch for your apprentice." He gracefully got to his feet, his cloak fluttering around his heels. "I'll contact our friends in the Death Watch. You—" Dooku merely glanced at the slumped form on the gurney. "You may tend to your apprentice."
Qui-Gon dropped his head in gratitude as Dooku strode to the door. The silver-haired Sith Lord came to a halt, turning around as light seeped between the cracks of Dooku's blockage. Dooku was a mighty dark figure and light could not chase the dark he wrapped around himself. But the hint of an appreciative smile nearly blended that dark to grey. "Well done, Qui-Gon," Dooku said in a rare moment of felicitations. "Your faith in Obi-Wan has proved fruitful."
Dooku turned again and exited the room with controlled haste. Qui-Gon let out a great sigh of relief, thankful to the Force for keeping Obi-Wan strong and safe during the process. He couldn't stop beaming though. The Force rejuvenated, a sweet harmony song that ensured Qui-Gon everything was right in the galaxy. His experiment proved its worth. Obi-Wan was alive. And soon, Anakin would be walking these very halls.
Everything was coming together as it should.
The tingling sensation crawling up his whole body left nothing to be desired. The medical droid nuzzled him was an oxygen mask to help him breathe until he gained control of his lungs. His chest was sore. Every breath brought a tightness to his chest. He curled his fingers, flexing to get any feeling back in his hands. It was a slow process.
A door opened, new light pouring through before it was shut. Footfalls grew louder as it came closer to the gurney. Obi-Wan waited. He knew his visitor. In seconds, the wait was over and Qui-Gon stood beside him, staring down a cruel smile of appreciation.
Qui-Gon's cold hands cupped the side of Obi-Wan's cheek, his thumb stroking underneath his strained eyes. It slid easily across his cheek. A sleek layer of sweat glossed his paled skin. Qui-Gon then pulled away, but remained towering over him. The smile still set in place.
"You did well, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon complimented, eyes glittering with pride. "I'm very proud of you."
That sent another jolt of shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. The very phrase sent him spiraling in a nauseating fit. He was shaking now.
The medical droid returned, reporting the final results to Qui-Gon. Once Qui-Gon approved them, the droid retracted the mask from Obi-Wan's face, giving him freedom to control his own breathing. All the electrodes and IVs were carefully extracted from him until he was free from all medical equipment. Qui-Gon unlocked the strap that trapped his neck, followed by his left arm and then his next arm.
"You are going to feel lightheaded Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon spoke, but his face blurred like a mirage. His voice grated, like pebbles grinding under a boot. "Obi-… eye… don't…"
An electric zap brought him back, plunging out of the Force and back to reality. His reality. Qui-Gon looked on with concern. "You may experience some slight shifts within the Force. You'll need to take it easy in the next couple of hours."
That's a laugh. There was nothing easy about being here. Everything was a test and critically judged on worth. Nothing was easy. Obi-Wan always worked hard for he had no choice as it was do or be killed. His training taught him to never surrender. To always have a plan for every eventuality. The battle wasn't over yet.
As Qui-Gon worked on freeing his last arm, Obi-Wan initiated his plan. Hand fisted, he shot his left arm across his body, arched sharp to Qui-Gon's face. It was a quick reaction. One a normal person wouldn't expect, but Qui-Gon wasn't normal. He was a Sith Lord and expected the reaction. He instantly caught Obi-Wan's wrist before contact, the grip not tight to form a bruise ring. Qui-Gon glanced from the captured fist to Obi-Wan's face, disapproving.
"Did you really think that would work?" Qui-Gon humorously questioned.
"No," Obi-Wan admitted in a small rasp. "Decoy."
Qui-Gon's smile faulted in misunderstanding before he received a punch to his genitals by Obi-Wan's right hand. He watched Qui-Gon drop to a broken, howling man. Obi-Wan didn't care. With the Force at his fingertips, he freed himself of his rest of his restraints. He sat up on the gurney in time to defend himself from the magna guards that rushed him. On instinct, Obi-Wan shot his hands out. To his utter surprise, what he thought was a mild toss turned to be a whiplash hurl. The guards slammed into the wall hard enough to be powered off. Obi-Wan, blue eyes baffled by the strength, glanced from the guards to his hands in a muddled of horror and awe. The medical droid beeped and squealed in fright, spinning around in mid-air unsure what to do.
Not Obi-Wan. He swung his legs over and jumped for a run, only to find himself flat on the floor. His legs were feeble, a feeling of numbness that had yet to go away. He couldn't lose like this. Pushing himself forward, he grappled onto the gurney, rising unsteadily upon braced feet. The room tilted, a rush sweeping him in a sudden urgency to go.
And he did. He sprinted head-first to the door, fumbling in his speed. He ran into several objects, blasting them away from him. He got to the door and to his luck, it wasn't locked. He palmed it opened and found freedom. He toppled out of the room, tripping over his feet as he turned down the corridor. He remembered the path they took. He could find his way out. He could make it.
The corridor swarmed, morphing into a black abyss as he heard echoes of a child's voice. The Force rewrapped him again, holding him and blocking everything—
Crack! Obi-Wan eyes flew opened as his head crashed into the side of the wall. He lost focus again. Reality slipped and he along with it. He tumbled to the floor. A rupture of pain banging between his ears. Obi-Wan laid still, forehead kissing the cold tile to relieve the ache that throttled him. He was losing it. His mind dizzying in and out like a kaleidoscope of raging madness. There was no barrier. No prevention. His control was dismantled and he became a crumbling mess.
Obi-Wan began to think he was done for. That his very essence was cutting itself out from his flesh and bone, to rejoin the Force where comfort was offered. While the rest of his inner struggle was abandoned, left alone to crawl on hands and knees to escape the persecution he so rightly didn't deserve.
Somebody help me.
He had never called out for help in years. Not since he was thirteen years old. He was taught to save himself and others. Trained to have no dependency. So, Obi-Wan never called for help. It was he who had to be his own savior. His only hope. But now, he became nothing more than that lost, insecure thirteen year old reject, clinging onto desperate notion that someone would care enough about him to save him from a certain fate.
As he laid prostrate on the floor, he heard the hums of the Force call to him. A sweet song that tingled his mind and warmed his heart. A whistle in a breeze, a certain serenity as it encouraged him. Obi-Wan had heard the song before, a tune so familiar to him that it brought a wave of nostalgia. A sweet smile. A gentle laugh. A strong voice. A sharp wit. It all came back in pieces, teasing him with images reforming into someone he knew…
A sharp discord shattered the harmony. A shrill of warning blasted through Obi-Wan's mind with quick urgency. Obi-Wan realized Qui-Gon was coming. He felt his master's presence striding after him like a descending bat. If Obi-Wan stayed, he would be caught.
Hands splayed on the wall, he pulled his shaking limbs up and took a tiny step. He was walking on thin ice, dangerously slipping as cracks formed under him. His vision distorted again, the corridor replaced with a burst of bright light. Obi-Wan shut his eyes, disgruntled by his lack of control. He knew better on controlling his Force powers and yet, he was like youngling all over again, fumbling in his connection with the Force. He never felt so in tune and out of tune with the Force. An unbalance that trembled in trepidation.
His perception was hay-wired. Every sense was disturbed that Obi-Wan couldn't even trust his own coordination or mind. He clung to the Force for guidance, deciphering its turbulence as demand to move. Upon its dire warning, Obi-Wan took another step. It was unsuccessful. His knees buckled and he plummeted. He landed on the floor with a loud crack and into a heap, legs twisted behind him. His forehead touched the tile floor, breathing hard as he let the cold kiss of the tile be his anchor. His vision cleared and he caught a fading reflection of his palled face in the fog residue of his breathing.
Hurried footfalls reverberated his senses. They slowed as it got near, coming to a full stop right next to him. A gentle tendril of the Force curled around Obi-Wan, moving him off his stomach and onto his back. Obi-Wan stared up in expectance to see Qui-Gon standing over him. When their eyes met, Qui-Gon crouched down. He opened his mouth, but his words sounded garbled in Obi-Wan's ears.
Whatever he was saying, Obi-Wan knew best not to agree. He shook his head, sending a rush of dizzy spells to pollute his already hazed mind.
Qui-Gon's hands dropped down to him, but with reserved strength, Obi-Wan blocked him.
Qui-Gon lifted his hands in a false surrender. "Calm down," he murmured and Obi-Wan sensed a startling tranquility enter his Force presence, sliding right underneath his weakening shields. Against his better judgment, Obi-Wan relaxed. "There you go. Easy now," the Sith Lord said as his hands penetrated through Obi-Wan's personal space and fingertips touched the wet brows upon his forehead.
Obi-Wan drifted from corridor and back to the stream of unconsciousness as a pair of arms bundled him and lifted him off the floor. Obi-Wan was too lost to protest what was happening. As the shroud of sleep overtook him, he swore upon awakening he would learn what Qui-Gon did to him.
Anakin shot up from his bed. "Obi-Wan!"
Chest heaving, he quickly scanned the room with lingered hope that Obi-Wan was actually in the room. He shoved off his covers and darted around the room, but once he discovered he was alone, that hope dimmed.
But, Anakin swore he sensed him. He recognized Obi-Wan's Force presence anywhere and he was certain that he touched it. He also saw a flutter of images of Obi-Wan. Mostly of him in pain. But, through the images, he recognized the scenery. The environment. The essence of the hell Obi-Wan had been dragged to. Obi-Wan's memories and nightmares have shown him enough to recognize that foul stench in the Force.
He knew exactly where Obi-Wan was.
Anakin raced out of his room, causing a quite a startle of the guards patrolling the corridor. They shouted at him, but Anakin paid no heed to their calls. One guard tried to capture him, but Anakin ducked and sped around the corner as the guards scrambled to chase after him.
Left. Right. Right again. Anakin spotted the massive doors, a squad of blue guards posted by its frame. The guards spotted Anakin's charging figure and pulled out their staffs, crossing blades in front of the door to prevent entrance.
"The Duchess asked not to be disturbed," the blue guard stated to Anakin.
Anakin panted, his labored heart pounding in his ears. "It's important!"
The blue guards did not share his urgency. What could be important in the middle of the night? The Duchess had requested privacy and; therefore, that was what the guards would provide. Feet planted and armed, they denied Anakin free access.
Anakin huffed, face hardening and eyes fallen to slits as a rising tide of anger filled him. He raised a finger, flicking it to unlock the door. As the door parted open, it drew the guards' attention away from him and to the cracking door. Anakin used the distraction against the guards and slid underneath their staffs and right through the now parted doors of the Duchess's bedroom.
The guards shouted and rushed at him, but Anakin jumped to his feet and sprinted to where he saw Satine sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Satine!" Anakin cried out, causing the Duchess to jump in fright from the commotion.
She shot to her feet flattening her hair as she took in the scene just as one of the guards grabbed hold of Anakin's collar. Anakin squirmed, choking from the guard's hold on him. The small squad of personal security guards filed into the room, staff raised to execute.
Satine held up her hand immediately to stop them. "Let him go!" she said as she hurried down from her bed to meet Anakin. "It's fine. He's okay."
The guard uncurled his grip and released Anakin. Free, Anakin rushed to the Duchess, grabbing the fabrics of her gown like a child tugging for attention. "Satine! I saw him! I saw Obi-Wan!"
Satine blinked. Her red-strained, somewhat swollen eyes puzzled over Anakin's declaration. "What—Obi-Wan is here?" She looked passed Anakin and through the guards, searching.
"No—I mean," Anakin's tongue stumbled, not finding the right words to describe what he experienced. Obi-Wan would have understood. But Satine. She wasn't Force-sensitive. "I saw him… when I was asleep. I felt his presence. It was like… it was like he was really here! I saw him, Satine!"
A dash of disappointed marked upon Satine's face. Her hands reached and held on to Anakin's shoulders, holding him steady. She brushed the strands of his brown-blonde hair out of his eyes. "Oh, Anakin. It was only a dream—"
Anakin shook his head. "No! It wasn't! I saw him! I felt him!"
"Anakin…"
Anakin clutched Satine's hands, his face growing a bit redder at the dismissal. Obi-Wan would never dismiss what he saw. Vision or not. He always talked to him about it. "It wasn't a dream, Satine!" he insisted, his voice imbued with impatience. "I saw him! I felt him in the Force! It was like… I finally succeeded in contacting him."
Satine hesitated, clearly baffled by his assurance. Anakin needed her to believe him. He truly did find Obi-Wan. There was no doubt or question. This wasn't a dream or a vision. It was real. All too real for Anakin to be subjugated as insanity. He kept hold of Satine's hands, eyes beaming up at her in pleas.
A soft sigh of reluctance exhaled from Satine. "Let's speak to Master Yoda," she advised to Anakin. "He may understand what happened."
Anakin's grip on Satine's hand loosen. "You don't believe me."
"No, I do," Satine insisted as she rubbed her eyes in attempt to remove any trace of… was it tears? Was she crying before he crashed into her room unannounced? She straightened up, her face settled into a more passive state. "But if there is anyone here who understands your gifts in the Force, it would be him."
Anakin didn't trust Master Yoda. He was a Jedi. A member of the High Council who locked Obi-Wan away in those dungeons. Obi-Wan never minded him. In fact, upon their arrival on Coruscant, Anakin sensed a familial connection between Obi-Wan and Master Yoda. A link in chain of kinship. But, if that were true, why did Yoda send him to the dungeons or label him an outlaw? A liar? Anakin didn't know and for that reason, he still held doubts about the Grandmaster despite Obi-Wan's friendly demeanor toward him.
Yet, Satine was unable to help him. Only Master Yoda was the other known Force-sensitive on planet and Anakin did feel a great sense of power emitting from the old, green master. Perhaps Yoda was his best chance on rescuing Obi-Wan from the Sith Lords' captivity.
With some reluctance, Anakin followed Satine to the Grandmaster's suite. Satine politely knocked and the doors opened on their own accord. The green, old Jedi Master sat perched in the middle of the floor, eyes closed and ears perked up as if listening for something in particular.
They strode forward and as they got near, Master Yoda hummed. "Disturbance in the Force," he said. His eyes slid open and fixed on Anakin. "Felt it, you did."
Anakin nodded. "I saw Obi-Wan," he said again. "Or at least, I sensed his presence. It was like he was standing right next to my bed."
Master Yoda studied Anakin with green eyes of scimitar perceptiveness. Anakin shuffled closer to Satine, not liking the idea that the Jedi Master could easily read him. The green Jedi hummed again, nodding as deep grooves trenched his forehead. His ears weathered down and the small Jedi sighed.
"Feel him, you did," Master Yoda confirmed. "Your Force bond expanded."
"What do you mean?" questioned Anakin, eyes crinkled in confusion. How did their Force bond expand? Did he do it on his own? Unintentionally?
Master Yoda steadily rose from where he sat, holding his gimer stick for stability and balance. "To locate you it appears the Sith used yours and Obi-Wan's bond," he said. "Through Obi-Wan, to expand the bond to locate your haven, they managed."
Anakin's spike of distress clouded the Force. He looked from Master Yoda to Satine and then back to Yoda. A haunting realization rising between them. "No! How could you even say that?" Anakin demanded, disgusted by the subtle suggestion, firmly. "No—Obi-Wan wouldn't betray me like that. He wouldn't give those Sith scums anything—"
"Willing, he did not," Master Yoda waved a claw at Anakin. "No, forced, he was. Cruel and painful, to thrust a person into the rage of the Force without proper guidance, it is."
Anakin's face turned a deep shade of red. His lips compressed, his expression lining between petulant and furious. "Then we shouldn't have waited!" he shouted, resentful of the two adults. It was their fault Obi-Wan was in trouble. Their lack of action—their refusal to act—abandoned Obi-Wan to a terrible fate. "We should have done something! Anything!" Anakin careened toward the window, away from the Jedi Master. They needed to start searching for Obi-Wan, but the Master Jedi shot him down. Anakin stared out at the domed skies, stretching his Force presence through the murky waves of the Force.
He could feel Obi-Wan again. He was far, far away, but the light on the other side stayed true amongst the sea of darkness.
He felt two gentle hand cover him and Anakin looked up to see Satine staring down at him with sympathy in her eyes. Anakin's words broke. "They're torturing him. I felt it. They were hurting him."
Satine's straight lips wavered as she swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Anakin," she offered though her voice wasn't as even as it once was. "You're right, we should have done more."
But they didn't. And now, Obi-Wan was across the galaxy, experiencing unimaginable pain. Anakin would do anything—anything—to save Obi-Wan from that fate. His chest squeezed close, an icy tingle crawled up his skin that made him quiver in Satine's arms.
Satine caressing hushed him, holding him in an embrace. "It'll be okay, Anakin," she whispered reassurances to him. "We'll get him back."
Would they? Anakin didn't know anymore.
Master Yoda took slow steps to him and Satine. The Jedi Master austerely stared at Anakin as he inquired, "To you did Kenobi speak?"
Anakin pulled himself away from Satine to answer the Jedi's question. "I think he may have said my name," he said, shamed that he could not offer anymore. "But, before he was gone entirely, I saw flashes. Images of sorts. Things I've seen before."
"Of the images, where and what were they?"
"It was of pain and sorrow," Anakin muttered, fingers shaking. He snatched the ends of his tunic to hide the tremble as he recalled the strikes he felt from the Force when those images came upon him. "But the place—I recognized it from Obi-Wan's nightmares. It's Serenno."
"Serenno?" Satine repeated, recognizing the planet from their previous conversation with Padmé.
Anakin feverishly nodded. "I'm positive," he claimed, rubbing his temple again. "That's where he is. They have him in Serenno."
Master Yoda eyed his gesture questionably. "Your head hurt does, hmm?"
Ever since waking up, Anakin's mind tingled. Pins and needles dotted his forehead and, every now and then, a sharp prick stabbed him in the temples. "A little."
Master Yoda's ears twitched. He studied Anakin again, his presence tickling Anakin's shield. The Jedi Master gripped his gimer stick. "No longer safe for Skywalker, Mandalore is. Leave, he must."
Satine was shocked. "Leave?"
Master Yoda gravely released a tired breath. "Here, the Sith know Anakin is. Come for him, they will. Dangerous for you and your people, it is."
"But where will he go?" Satine argued on Anakin's behalf. "Obi-Wan entrusted me with his care and protection. I gave him my word."
"To keep your word, need to leave, Anakin will. Take him to Coruscant I will. Safe, to the Temple where he will be."
Anakin curled his nose back, lips pursed in a tight pout. He did not want to return to that fortress. He had no desire to be captive to that prison and let all the other children mock him and Obi-Wan. "No, I'm not leaving," Anakin stood his ground. "Obi-Wan trusted the Duchess to keep me safe. I trust her too! She can keep me safe."
Master Yoda frowned. "Willing to risk the innocent lives around you, you are, hmm because of a fear?" the Jedi Master challenged. "Kenobi say to that, what would, hmm? Of Mandolarians spare the lives. Spare the life of the Duchess, if leave the planet you do."
Anakin wouldn't bestow death or danger to anyone on Mandalore. But he most certainly would not step foot back in that Temple. He had no need to be harassed and mocked. "They might not have figured out that I'm here. Maybe Obi-Wan—"
Master Yoda gaveled his gimer stick on the floor. "Letting fear cloud your better judgment, you are," he chided. "Come and kill and take you, the Sith will. Willing to sacrifice everything Kenobi gave only to fall right into the Sith lords' hands are you, hmm?"
Never! He wouldn't let Obi-Wan's sacrifice be in vain. "No, of course not, but—"
"Deep down, do, you know what you must," Master Yoda finished, looking from Anakin to Satine. "Of you both."
Anakin rocked on his feet, anxiously looking up to Satine. She didn't look down. Her eyes faded to a faraway memory. Too far for Anakin to reach her. He sensed her feelings though. Sorrow, reluctance and a mounting amount of acquiescent. She was leaning to agree with Master Yoda.
While Anakin protested the very notion of returning to that dreaded fortress, he too knew Master Yoda was right. The Force was turbulent. The tranquil stream that filtered through him earlier tonight was long ago distressed by a storm. Something was brewing. A foreboding message that repeated over and over in his head, searing it that Anakin once again reach up to his forehead to relieve the pain.
Throbbing in pain, Anakin clutched his head. Stormy waves of the Force crashed into him. A distant siren wailing, growing louder as the waves threateningly loomed over him. A scream perched at the tip of his tongue, throat burning to release all the tension building. It took all of his might to contain the explosiveness, to retain the curdling scream of warning. But the pressure built, pushing against his restraints until it cracked. His resolve faulted. The need to release all the feeling to the Force in a single scream became warranted – necessary.
But just as he prepared to scream, a thunderous rumble overtook the room. Satine immediately snatched Anakin and pulled him close to shield him from whatever caused the combustion. They all quizzically flickered to one another, half expecting the other to dismiss the disturbance. No one did. Silence filled the room for only a second. One second, before a piercing cry shattered the night. Satine and Anakin spun around and looked out the window.
Across the city, clogs of smoke smoldered the view as fire nipped at a now charcoaled, destroyed building. Satine dashed to the window, her schooled expression contorted to a gasping horror as she watched the flames rise higher. From above, a large banner flew over the destruction. Painted on the banner was a three-talon claw sigil.
Anakin squinted in puzzlement at the fluttering banner. "What does that mean?"
Satine inched away from the window, hand pressed against her heart. "Death Watch."