WARNING: Alright, buckle up everyone because this shit about to get crazy, and canon levels of violence.

P.s. People die in this chapter ;)

Chapter 15 - Death Trap

When Obi-Wan woke up, he felt sick, he felt weak, and starved.

He pushed himself to his feet, had a moment to be amazed he was still wearing his armour, before falling back down with a metallic clank.

For a moment, vertigo overtook him, when he managed to focus his gaze the world still felt unsteady.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you would be the first to wake," Tor Vizsla said.

All Obi-Wan could do was glare up at the man.

Then Obi-Wan found himself gaping at the man. He had known his son in the future, had seen plenty of pictures, but this close to him…

Tor Vizsla smirked, "The resemblance is quite striking, don't you think?"

The resemblance between Tor and Micah was undeniable. The same hazel eyes, ebony hair, and pale skin. The main differences between them were age and perhaps Micah's more delicate and less aggressively male features. Micah was slim, lean muscle while Tor bulked as if he were a bodybuilder.

Obi-Wan was betting he took steroids.

Tor continued when Obi-Wan couldn't find the energy or the wit to voice a remark. "Micah Vizsla, I should have named him Obi-Wan Kenobi. A deaf Mandalorian? I should put him out of his misery after his mother died fighting against Chakraborty."

Obi-Wan couldn't keep his eyes from widening.

Tor smiled, "Yes, quite the tale, isn't. You True Mandalorians, so high and mighty, yet you stole my ad by killing my riduur. But then, we were already at war with each other and Mi'ika isn't worth much-"

"He's worth more than you'll ever be!" Obi-Wan broke, his throat raw and he immediately began to cough.

"I certainly hope so, because where we are going his worth will be weighed in credits. If it's any constellation, I suspect you two will be sold together, you as his translator."

Obi-Wan frowned then when he understood the implication, "You would sell your own ad'ika into slavery?"

Force, his throat hurt.

"Pre Vizsla is my son, this welp was a genetic accident. I'm surprised he's survived this long. He's as pretty as his mother though, I suspect I'll get a fair price for him."

Obi-Wan tried to lash out, but his arms were lead weights.

So he tried doing something he hadn't allowed himself the luxury of doing, he opened his shields and reached for the Force.

He gasped, just barely catching his scream as the Force flooded his senses, mixed with the exhaustion and whatever drug they had given him, it felt as if he were being torn apart.

He slammed his shields back down and fought not to be sick, he wouldn't have the energy to roll out of it if he did.

"Feeling alright there, Kenobi?" Tor taunted.

Obi-Wan ignored him in favour of remembering how to breathe.

"The thing about selling Mandalorians, is no one ever believes they are Mandos unless they come with their shells. I will be making a fortune off the Beskar alone. Luckily the little Lady is pretty enough to be highly valued regardless."

"Hut'uun," Obi-Wan snarled.

Tor smiled, "No, just good business."

Obi-Wan sincerely doubted that. He might no longer know how to quantify the years, but he knew that he had been killing, waging war, and being trained by Jango Fett for three consecutive years. Once the drugs wore off, Tor was a dead man.

Tor disregarded his danger, "Feeling a bit tired?"

Obi-Wan didn't break eye contact.

Tor's smirk broadened, "You should, you've been sedated for nearly two months. I fear you may have to relearn how to walk. I must hand it to your clan, it hasn't been easy out running them, but one of you will sell enough to triple the cost of fuel. Besides, this is insurance the four of you will be docile at market. I don't really care what happens to you after I get my credits. Considering the clientele, I suspect the moment you act up, you'll be eaten by something for sport."

"Hut'uun," Obi-Wan repeated, it was the worst insult, something not shared by friends in jest.

Tor stood from where he had been kneeling, "Enjoy breathing, Kenobi, while you still can." He laughed like a manic moron as he left.

Regrettably, breathing was all Obi-Wan could do.

Micah woke an hour later, and he looked to be having the same trouble moving that Obi-Wan did.

If they really expected to sell them on the slave market, they were going to need to soak in bacta for a day. Bacta could exactly fix everything, but they would be able to stand on their own two feet, beyond that… they would see.

Obi-Wan dragged himself along the floor, careful not to make too much noise or bump the girls.

They deserved to remain asleep as long as possible.

When he was in Micah's view, he flopped down, putting all his energy into signing. He only managed half gestures with one hand, 'How are you?'

Micah sighed before signing back, 'Weak.'

'T-O-R said we have been drugged asleep for two months, he took our weapons, our helmets, but not our armour.'

Micah didn't even sign, just arched a brow, his hazel eyes a bit amused.

They were going to kill Tor, or their aliit would.

Obi-Wan continued, 'They have been running away from our aliit and they intend to sell us and our Baskar to slavers. Our armour is proof that we are Mandalorians.'

'Fools,' Micah signed.

'Maybe, but he thinks he can get away with the credits before we kill the slavers.'

'Smarter, but he is still a dead man walking.'

Obi-Wan nodded, kriff he was tired, his sign was bad, he was skipping a lot of smaller words, but Micah and Obi-Wan knew each other well enough to fill in the blanks.

But he made the effort to be clear in his next question, 'Is Tor Vizsla your father?'

Micah hesitated but sighed, closing his eyes before responding, 'Yes.'

Obi-Wan waited for Micah to open his eyes, instead, the other boy signed, 'He didn't want me. After my mother died, he left me for dead. I was four years old. Chakraborty is the only father I've ever known.'

Obi-Wan wondered why he had taken the last name Fett instead of Mereel then but he didn't push. He reached out to gently tap Micah's wrist.

His friend looked up with clear shame in their eyes.

Obi-Wan signed, 'My birth parents would have joined the Watch but they retired to Stewjon instead. My father hated me. My mother should have been to old for ade but she had me and I was born early. I was small. They didn't think I would survive, and they didn't want me to. That's where my name comes from.'

'They didn't sell you into slavery or give you away to your enemies,' Micah defended.

Obi-Wan smiled, 'No, but my mother did try drowning me when I grew stronger. She tortured and killed the boy who rescued me.'

Micah's face showed revulsion, 'I'm sorry.'

'They may be blood, Micah, but you and I are aliit.' Obi-Wan then signed, 'No one cares who your father was-'

Micah completed the proverb, 'Only the father you will become.'

Obi-Wan flopped on his back with another clang, so he could touch his heart then to his forehead before offering his hand toward Micah.

It wasn't a sign that had a good translation in either Mando'a or Basic. It meant many things depending on circumstance or sometimes it was meant to convey many things. It was a blessing and a thank you, but not truly for a deed but more thanking someone for existing and for being able to know them. It also meant go forth with honour, sometimes it was a goodbye on a battlefield, especially if one or both of you didn't suspect would ever return home.

But most commonly, it translated to how Obi-Wan meant it now; My heart rejoices having met you, and I will always know you as you are.

Micah blinked back tears, and though he didn't quite have the energy to repeat the gesture in full, Obi-Wan could read his face well enough to understand that he returned the sentiment as he used the primary sign for thank you.

Obi-Wan stretched out his hand further and Micah caught it. They held onto each other, because it was all they had the strength to do.

Micah closed his eyes first, allowing Obi-Wan to follow.

They were kriffed.

They were completely at the Watch's mercy.

Jango nor Jaster had found them yet and Obi-Wan's very last resort was out of reach.

Whatever they had dulled not just his physical but mentally. It really made Obi-Wan wonder how common he and Koska were? Common enough that the drugs they were using worked as well as a superhuman like Jango and a Force sensitive.

Of course, the Watch believed the symbol of the Mand'alor was a lightsaber.

When it came to the Jetiiese and Mandalorians, it seemed their fates were ever entwined.

The thing about being on the run, you make mistakes.

Tor Vizsla had gravely underestimated them.

True, it was to Vizsla's benefit that Jaster had to surrender the hunt to help take the reins of their fledgeling government, but that didn't slow Jango.

Nor, did it slow Chakraborty.

Chakraborty was a man often underestimated. Out of his armour, he was a memorable figure, Sinna teased him often that he was the pretty one with his dark skin and full lips. But otherwise, he was average height and was quiet by Mandalorian standards.

But when it came to killing, he was little more than a whisper in the dark. As the weeks passed Chakraborty grew even shorter with his speech and even more precise.

What few knew was once not too long ago, Chakraborty was next in line to be the Mand'alor, both in the eyes of the True Mandalorians and with the Vizsla Clan.

Chakraborty Mereel was once Chakraborty Wren. He had challenged Tor for his spot, for the DarkSaber, and he would have won if Tor hadn't played the cruellest and most egregious trap.

Tor had left his own son mortally injured where Chakraborty would find him. Chakraborty missed the duel, and thus forfeiting the duel and 'staining' his honour. However, Chakraborty had gotten Micah to care soon enough that no permanent physical damage was done.

Tor deserved death, but the man was a coward and slimier than a crid-eel.

But he wouldn't be getting away this time.

Every stop Tor made, every ally he took refuge with, the Mereel Clan was not far behind. Tor didn't realize the enemies he was making, nor did he realize that he was essentially giving away all his secrets.

Tor knew his only chance of survival was to keep the ade alive. He was already dead, but if any of the ade were seriously hurt or died.

The last of Tor's issues would be the afterlife.

No, Jango would personally ensure hell would be a mercy.

"Jango," Chakraborty snarled.

"What's the reading?" Jango demanded. He saw the destination and cursed a long stream of profanity as he finished entering in the directions.

Chakraborty flipped the switches and Jango pulled them into hyperspace.

"I swore to him, Jango, I swore that I would never let that dar'buir near him again. I failed him."

"Tor is suicidal," Jango answered. "But he isn't a masochist. Mi'ika is going to be okay."

Chakraborty didn't answer.

When next Obi-Wan woke he was being redressed back into his armour by furred eared slavers. He was still drugged, but he reached for the Force anyway.

He saw a flash of Anakin and Ahsoka walking through the slavers' halls.

He saw a population of Togrutas being slaughtered, working in the mines.

He felt the sting of a whip across his chest, but worse was watching Rex being beaten along with him.

Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and so many more, hurt because he wasn't good enough, not smart enough…

Obi-Wan pushed past the pain, as he closed his shields.

He was no longer a Master Jedi, no longer a Jetii at all, the Dark called to him, but his control was too ragged even work with that.

But it didn't matter.

He was Jango Fett's son.

For a moment he could feel Cody at his back, a sure presence.

His constant.

Obi-Wan took strength from that. He might have been a sham of a Padawan, a pretender as a Knight, and a Master who had failed his only student, but he was a damn fine General.

If Cody was his strength, then Obi-Wan was his Commander's shield.

Failure didn't matter.

The Clone Wars had never been about victory.

It had been about survival, or at least the right to survive, for their peoples to go on in a galaxy that didn't give a damn about them.

Obi-Wan shook from the electricity that ran through his body as he got in several blind hits. He waited until the prod was pulled away, he couldn't feel his limbs, but he knew where his targets were.

He went for the karkers' eyes.

Manacles were clamped over his beskar, his helmet was rammed on his head, the padding gone along with all the comms and mechanical devices were gone.

In the confines of the helmet, the smell of bacta was strong which explained how he was standing. He had no way of knowing how long he had been out this time, but even if he was weak, his legs could hold him.

Still it took him a few minutes, in which he was prodded to walk along, dragging what felt like a thousand units of durasteel, to be able to see straight.

Micah was beside him while the two girls walked in front.

Ironically, despite Bo-Katan being the one in armour, it was Satine who placed herself slightly ahead of them.

Protecting them all really.

Some people were just born to be leaders.

Tor Vizsla walked beside Obi-Wan in a prowl, likely suspicious of what Obi-Wan might do.

The man wasn't a complete moron. Obi-Wan would cause as damage as he could manage. Tor needed to sell them before then.

Obi-Wan was pretty sure the only reason his Buir had been a slave in any reality was due to the pirates who 'owned' him, isolating them in space.

Some ships were hard to man without a copilot, and in the outer reaches, travel between stops could take months upon months. Pirates were known for keeping fuel tanks unboard for that very reason.

Which was another reason Jango might not have been able to fight his way out; too many blaster shots and then everyone onboard would have been freed from life.

Obi-Wan noted the grandness of the Zygerrian halls, it was gaudy and despite the beauty of the materials, of the stone, the artisan was a mockery of true beauty.

There was no love in these stones, only sorrow.

Obi-Wan watched Tor from the corner of his eye and wondered where Pre Vizsla was, Tor's son.

Other son.

Micah's little brother.

Yeah, that was somehow weirder than Tor being Micah's father.

Tor was clever and vicious.

Pre was a boot licker.

Obi-Wan kept studying Tor, searching for weaknesses he most likely wouldn't be able to take advantage of.

Then Obi-Wan spotted it, the infamous DarkSaber.

A lightsaber that had been used to kill so many Jatiiese over the centuries.

It was to Cody's argument that a lightsaber wielder who also wore lightsaber proof armour could have a slight advantage, especially when the Jetiiese were trained not to kill first.

Obi-Wan took in a deep breath and braced himself against the onslaught of visions that would come from trying to use the Force when he had been fighting against it for so long.

He focused on the sound of the chains against stone as his feet dragged. Held onto that sound even as he watched ships be blown up in his mind's eye, like debris hurtling through an asteroid field.

Exploding stars. Lights so dim in comparison to the lives that slipped back into Force like a stone into a river.

Obi-Wan reached out with the faintest thread of power past the horrors to the equally horrid history of the DarkSaber.

He was glad of his helmet as he let himself smile.

There were some Jetii secrets good to have.

"Oh, what pretty things you bring me, Tor," the feline queen said from atop her throne.

Her voice pulled Obi-Wan out of his minor meditation, his tenacious hold on the Force slipped, the drugs in his system too much to overcome without dedicated focus.

Not that he needed any more help.

The damage was done.

Tor Vizsla had lost. He would get his credits, just as he would get his due.

His buir was probably going to be upset for not getting a piece out of the dar'buir.

But if Jango complained, Obi-Wan fully intended to call him out for being slow.

"You will never keep us," Satine said, chin raised, undaunted.

The Queen laughed, "I will pay your price. These four will be so much fun to break. Especially you, little Duchess."

"I have places to be, your Majesty," Tor said.

The Queen waved her hand, "Pay him-"

Something shook the walls, the very foundation.

Gongs sounded in the distance.

The Queen stood, "What was that?"

Micah and Obi-Wan shared a look.

It seemed their aliit had finally caught up to them.

A guard came into the hall at a sprint, and they all turned to look. Obi-Wan could already see Tor getting ready to run.

Hut'uun.

"It's the Jedi!" the guard yelled, "They came with the Corallian Navy!"

O-kay…

Obi-Wan hadn't seen that coming.

Another tremor shook the palace.

"Are they dropping bombs!?" the fluff eared guard nearest to Micah exclaimed.

"Kriffing Jetiiese," Tor snarled.

"They're Tonic-Megno bombs! The Jedi are grounding our ships! There'll be no way off the planet!" another guard yelled who came in at a run.

The Queen was already being ushered out, her new 'purchases' forgotten.

Bo-Katan, who was a few years younger than her sister, and likely not as heavily drugged, jumped her guard. Micah helped by tripping the male.

Tor took the opportunity to disappear and Obi-Wan was in no position to chase after him.

The guard Bo-Katan and Micah tackled, pushed them off, struck out with a well placed kick to Micah's side. But the guard didn't linger, no one did. Soon Micah, Bo-Katan, Satine, and Obi-Wan left alone in the grand hall with their absurdly heavy chains.

Satine and Bo-Katan helped Miach to his feet, in his hand were the ring of keys.

Obi-Wan signed, I love you.

Micah signed back, Duh.

Satine, who was also less heavily drugged, worked the keys.

"Let's go," Bo said, "Hurry."

Obi-Wan led the way, knowing vaguely where they were going. The streets were in pandemonium.

The sun shone hot and bright on slavers running and dragging others, the slaves were running and fighting.

Corellian ships were indeed descending.

Slavers were shrieking, but even the distant gleam of the lightsabers, perhaps the mere rumour of them, was raising the hope among slaves.

The Zygerrian Empire wasn't going to survive this. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what had happened to get the Republic to be moved by the Order, though he suspected it was a combination of many things, but mainly an opportunity.

They could have done so much more in the Clones Wars if they hadn't been constantly sabotaged and held back.

The drugs, or perhaps the adrenaline, allowed Obi-Wan and Micah to keep up with the girls even if every step was jarring and made his muscles ache.

The streets were in chaos, and if they weren't careful, someone could get trampled.

The good thing about Zygerria was that slave chips weren't used, therefore, whoever made it to freedom stayed free.

Obi-Wan signed as he ran, "Go to the Jettiiese!"

"No!" Bo yelled at him.

"They can get us home!" Obi-Wan yelled, running toward the nearest wind marked transport he could see.

A woman with dark hair fell into Obi-Wan's path. He caught her by the forearm and helped bring her to her feet. In Basic he said, "This way!"

And that's how their dash to freedom went. They were all too weak to fight, but having a clear direction, the fleeing slaves who saw them, joined them. They were a parade of people, unfortunately, slavers were the scum of the dirt and tried picking some of them off.

They were met with violence.

Satine tripped over her skirts, and Obi-Wan shoved Micah as several screams ran through the crowd as an armed group of Zygerrians grew vindictive.

If they couldn't have them, then no one could have them.

Death before freedom.

'G-O-!' Obi-Wan signed to Micah, they could reconnect later.

"Satine!" Bo yelled as Micah pulled her away.

"I'll bring her back to you!" Obi-Wan shouted to the girl as she and Micah disappeared behind a press of bodies.

Obi-Wan made himself the stone in the stream as he helped Satine to her feet. She had twisted, or perhaps even broken, her ankle.

He cursed under his breath as he supported her with an arm around her shoulder.

Their pace was slow. Still tired, Obi-Wan couldn't simply throw her over his shoulder and book it. Bodies battered around them and keeping their feet grew ever more difficult as they were pulled to the back of the herd where the people escaping were more panicked.

There was so much sound, so much he couldn't see that all he could focus on was moving forward.

But they weren't fast enough.

Someone caught the back of Satine's dress and tugged. Satine clung to Obi-Wan and he spun to see who had grabbed her.

Obi-Wan didn't even know what species it was, all he knew was the person was huge, a slaver, and not letting go.

"Obi-Wan!" Satine cried, throwing herself forward as he reached for her in turn.

The slaver changed his grip to Satine's white blonde hair and jerked.

Her neck snapped.

The sound…

The sound.

Obi-Wan watched the light fade from her eyes as she fell limp in her murderer's hands.

Shock filled, the world falling away around him as he stared at her.

At her body lifeless beneath rumpled turquoise cloth, her hair haloed around her.

She was dead.

He fell to his knees, reaching for her as he struggled to comprehend.

She was too young.

"No," he whispered, she had been in his arms.

She was safe with him, this couldn't have happened.

Not again.

A big hand landed on his shoulder, "Esclave."

For some reason, he didn't worry about himself, he worried he was going to be taken away from Satine.

He had told Bo-Katan he would bring her sister back.

He twisted away from the touch, but the slaver pulled his arm up behind him sharply.

"No!" Obi-Wan yelled, reaching for Satine.

The slaver put a needle to his neck and all he could reach was Satine's medallion. Her vacant face was the last thing he saw before the world went black..

Jango was on one hand pleased to see the Jetiiese and the Republic doing something useful like striking down a slave empire.

On the other; he was absolutely pissed at their karking timing.

Knowing how much a Mandalorian slave would sell for, and Tor Vizsla's pride, Jango and Chraborty went to the palace first.

"Mandos! Are you here to help?" a Nautolan with a green saber that matched his skin called to them.

Jango shot a Zygerrian through the head which seemed to be answer enough for the Jetii.

The Nautolan nodded and leaped over the gate archway as if he had wings taking out the top guard. A purple saber wielder ran in ahead of them.

Was that the Senator of Coruscant? Jango wondered idly as he continued firing, inadvertently acting as the Jetii's back-up.

Ugh.

At least it was for a respectable cause.

They found Tor Vizsla on his way out. Tor stuttered to halt, and though Jango couldn't see his face, he knew Tor was surprised.

Surprised and frozen as he faced his death.

The two Jetiiese ignored Vizsla, knowing Mandalorian business when they saw it. A line of Zygerrian guards planted their feet and prepared to fight the Jetiiese.

"They are gone, Fett," Tor said, unclipping the DarkSaber from his belt. "Dead and gone."

Jango's heart felt as if it had been torn out, but he knew better than to believe Tor at his word.

Chakraborty didn't wait, he just pointed and fired his rifle.

Tor turned his wrist with the hilt, activating the lightsaber.

Jango threw an arm in front of his face as an explosion engulfed Tor Vizsla. The heart of the flame blazed white hot and even with his helmet on, the sound was deafening.

Jango lowered his arm a minute later and blinked at the charred remains of Tor's beskar. The explosion hadn't been expansive, but it had burned hot enough, intensely enough, that no organic tissue seemed to have survived and the beskar was warped.

Jango couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

"Why?" he asked aloud and in Basic, annoyed that Tor had killed himself and robbed Jango of delivering a slow death as well as the opportunity to learn what had happened to their ade.

The purple saber Jetii, who yes, was the Senator of Coruscant, Mace Windu, merely shrugged before he performed a flip and beheaded two Zygerrians. He spoke easily as he casually cut through the remaining guards. "He wasn't a Jedi. He must have tried tinkering with his saber himself, an unbalanced Kyber crystal can cause… imbalance."

Kriffing Jetii couldn't simply say bomb, could he?

Jango growled and pushed himself onward, not bothering to collect the soiled Beskar. Tor hadn't been on the planet long, Jango knew they couldn't be too far behind their ade. There remained hope that the slavers had kept them alive.

Dead bodies didn't sell for much.

AN: Thoughts, sea-cows, or feedback, pretty please