A single chance is a galaxy of hope.
Without darkness there cannot be light.
Things moved quickly after that.
Jango asked Shmi to move to the grounded Lustre while he took Slave I up into the atmosphere. The other Jedi didn't seem too confused by her— figuring her for a passenger or shiphand.
They didn't need to take the fortress, not like they would have had to do on a force occupying a planet. They only needed to find Palpatine and Sey and, hopefully, arrest them. Obi-Wan was less than optimistic that the Sith would let themselves be taken alive.
After that, they could just leave, and let the Republic deal with the illegal droid army gathering here. This one force was, Obi-Wan realized with no small amount of pleasure, the majority of the Trade Federation's private army. They hadn't had time to stock up for anything bigger. Maybe they never would.
"May the Force be with you," Bant said, as Jango departed into Slave I, the engines primed.
"Oya, vod'ikase," Jango said, waving to the children.
"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur," Obi-Wan said, and Jango's answering laugh followed him away.
It wasn't a long hike to the fortress. Bant and Bruck were both bleeding contained nervousness through the Force, but they were staying calm enough.
Ironically, it might have been Obi-Wan who was the most frightened. The one most well-prepared to fight the Lord of the Sith was, well, him. And he was currently thirteen years old. But even Yoda had never been able to kill Palpatine— Mace, Kit, Agen, Sassee; none of them had ever won either.
But none of that would come through his shields, tightened even more so than usual.
"Xanatos isn't answering," Obi-Wan said, as they crouched behind a grass-covered hillock, observing the castle. "I hope he's all right."
"I hope it's not a trap," Dooku said wryly.
The entrance they planned to make their way in through was little more than a service tunnel for various servants and working droids, but it would fit them all and it would lead into the heart of the fortress.
"We'll find out soon enough," Tahl said. "Fett is coming around."
Indeed, they could see his distinctive ship in the distance now, swooping in for a strafing run at the droids on the ground below.
At the same time, the explosives they'd planted took out one of the overlooking hills, instantly crushing a good portion of the droids lying in wait there. Debris and metal clattered to the ground.
Obi-Wan grinned.
"Run!" Dooku ordered, and they did, with Force-assisted speed towards their chosen door. The wind rushed past Obi-Wan's ears. He could hear the droids start to shoot back at Jango, but it was near to useless— the bombing had taken out all the air cannons at once.
It wasn't a long stretch between the doorway and the nearest cover, but it was enough for a droid to spot them. "Hey!" it said. "Stop!"
Obi-Wan reached out a hand— the droid's head popped off, then crumpled inwards on itself. Without its processors supporting it, the body collapsed onto the ground. "We've been spotted," Obi-Wan said calmly.
More droids, alerted by the first, turned towards them.
Six lightsabers snapped on at the same time, moving to deflect the onslaught of blaster bolts.
Jango circled around again and shot some of the droids out of the way, giving them enough time to reach the doorway and pile inside. Tahl stayed near the entrance, deflecting blaster bolts back at the droids.
She looked back over her shoulder, dark hair flying. "I'll stay," she said. "Make sure they don't follow you in."
"I'll stay with you, Master," Bant said, moving to stand at her side.
"Bant—" Tahl said.
"I'm staying, Master," Bant said.
"All right," Tahl said, with a fond shake of her head. She looked back at the others. "Burning daylight," she said. "Get going."
"Yes, Master Tahl," Qui-Gon said, and sketched her a sarcastic bow. They ran deeper into the castle.
Obi-Wan could hear the sounds of fighting echoing back up to them in the passageway, but it sounded more or less in hand. The small entrance would make it difficult for the droidekas to maneuver, and even someone who was unarmed could take on a flimsy B1 battle droid.
"Do you think the Sith is really here?" Bruck asked as they jogged down the hall.
"These droids are protecting something," Obi-Wan said.
The Force wrapped itself around Obi-Wan. It would be with him for this fight, as it had for all the other fights in his long life.
As they got further in, the air got less close and the sound of fighting much more distant. The ground shook every so often— Jango, making more bombing runs, not enough to threaten the structural integrity of the castle but enough to make dust fall from the ceiling here and there.
The place wasn't entirely unsecure; eventually, they reached a blast door blocking off the rest of the hallway from the castle itself. There was a security keypad and a droid socket that would open it up.
But it didn't have much resistance against lightsabers, and soon there was a new circular entrance right through the door.
The passage branched off. They poked their heads out the first one and saw into the front hall, where visitors were supposed to enter, and found a line of droidekas, pointing at the door in anticipation.
"I vote we go around," Obi-Wan said.
"Good idea," Qui-Gon said.
The next best entrance was through some kind of planning room, with a hologram table in the middle obviously meant for planning or surveying of blueprints. It was empty, but it didn't look abandoned.
The Neimodians had a taste for opulence. They crept further through the palace, observing the gilded accents scattered throughout the walls, the thick carpeting on the stairs that must have taken a team of droids and a lot of money to upkeep.
Obi-Wan sensed lifeforms, off in one of the meeting rooms. "There are people in there," he said, pointing. "Not the Sith, though."
"You two stay back," Qui-Gon said, and again pushed Obi-Wan and Bruck to the back of the group. They exchanged aggrieved looks.
Qui-Gon and Dooku stood side-by-side. They fit well together— it could be easy to forget that they too had been Master and padawan, once upon a time. Qui-Gon palmed the door open.
Inside was a group of Cato Neimodians, gathered around a meeting table. A few of them shrieked when they saw the Jedi.
"I told you!" one said. "We never should have agreed to this! Jedi! On our planet!"
"At your service," Obi-Wan said, poking his head in.
One of the Neimodians stood up. "Oh!" she said. "Rescue us!"
There was a general confused murmuring among the crowd.
"Rescue us," she repeated, more pointedly. "This evil Sith tricked us." This seemed to be catching on. "We've been partnering with Lord Sidious for years— we never had any idea of his evil, anti-Jedi sympathies."
Another Neimodian— Force, it was Nute Gunray— stood up. "It's true!" he said. "We agreed to host him, for, ah, trade dealings. But we didn't know he would bring such destruction to our door."
There was a translation to this, not in Basic but in politician-ese. A.K.A, the Cato Neimoidians had been secretly partnered with Palpatine, and had been using him to gain political favors, lucrative contracts, whatever. Then when he needed someplace to hide he'd gone to them.
They had, knowing the Neimodians, tried to refuse. Probably that had resulted in a Force-choke or two, after which they would have been much more cooperative. They'd loaned out the droids they'd been stockpiling and holed up to hope for the best.
But now that it seemed the Jedi were on to them, they were willing to turn to the other side. Maybe they'd make some profit along the way.
Dooku did not take his saber out, but he did move his cloak just so, exposing the gleaming metal to the roomful of already quavering Neimodians. "Where," he said, "Are the Sith?"
Every Trade Federation and Banking Clan member in the room suddenly decided that the best idea right now was to do exactly as the Jedi asked. They pointed, in a sea of hands, towards the opposite door.
"Thank you," Dooku said politely, and stalked away.
"Wow," Bruck said under his breath, clearly impressed.
"Unnecessarily dramatic," Qui-Gon said.
The Neimodians had pointed them in a direction that proved to be a huge foyer, some kind of secondary receiving room for guests. There was an enormous staircase that split into two halfway up, long landings that then led into hallways that must have held guest quarters.
All was empty.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan said.
"Spread out," Qui-Gon said. "Eyes open."
They did, in a very cautious line, lightsabers at the ready.
This meant only that they weren't all bunched up into one convenient firing line when the droids emerged from all corners, clanking and whirring. They stayed alert but unfiring, waiting for further orders.
"My Master was right," a voice echoed throughout the room.
Obi-Wan looked up, figuring the most dramatic place for an entrance would be where he would find his opponent.
Indeed, not a moment later, Master Sey appeared at the top of the staircase, leaning her arms on the banister. She was dressed in black, with a dark hood halfway over her head. Much of her face was banked in shadow, but Obi-Wan could see the glimmer of yellow eyes.
"He said you'd come to be slaughtered," she said. "And here you are."
"Kadrian," Dooku said. "Your Master, if I recall, has been dead some five years now."
Sey hissed. "He fell because he was weak. He believed in the Jedi ideals, and he let himself be destroyed saving people he had never even met and who did not care about him." She flicked her hood back. "Now I have a true Master, who will teach me the real power of the Dark Side."
"Master Sey," Qui-Gon said. "Stop this. You know this is madness. Come back to the Temple."
"My name," Sey growled, "Is Darth Inimic."
"Then you are truly lost," Dooku said.
"It's the Order that has lost its way," said Sey— Darth Inimic. "Join us. The Jedi Order is doomed to failure, and I am not going down with the ship." She smiled. "You could ask your little apprentice, but well…"
Obi-Wan stepped out of the shadow of his master. "Sorry to disappoint, my dear," he said.
Her eyes narrowed. "I should have known you'd survive. Like a little annoying cockroach."
"Resorting to flattery already?"
Inimic scowled. "No matter. You'll be dead soon enough anyway."
"What do you mean?" Dooku asked. "About the Jedi."
"My Master promises that I will no longer be so weak as the Jedi, clinging to the Light. Instead the Darkness will feed me and I will rise above my enemies," Darth Inimic said. She started to pace. Like all other Sith Obi-Wan had encountered, she was starting to seem a little mad, a little frazzled around the edges. Like Falling had taken something fundamental out of them. She looked Dooku in the eyes. "The Jedi will fall. It is written."
Slowly, everyone turned to look at Obi-Wan.
"Not even the younglings," Qui-Gon breathed, quietly enough that Obi-Wan was unsure if anyone else heard.
"That is only one possible future!" Obi-Wan shouted up at her. "The future changes when we change it!"
"I decided I would not be dragged down with the dusty old prophets," Inimic said. "I didn't know how. But I knew I would get out. Then they told me little Obi-Wan was back in the Halls of Healing. Now what, I wondered, could scare him so badly? So I went to check it out."
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "You injured yourself to get inside."
She kept pacing. "Oh yes. I couldn't touch you, but your Master was almost as good. Psychometry, you know." She stared contemplatively at her hand. "I touched his shoulder. I saw the Sith. He frightened you. Anyone could see that. I wanted to know why. So I sought out Senator Palpatine."
"Let me guess," Obi-Wan said. "He promised to train you, if only you removed the one person who could possibly know his identity."
"A youngling," Qui-Gon said. "You tried to kill a child, in our very Temple."
"Your Master is not going to be very happy to learn you've failed, Darth," Obi-Wan said. "Tell me, do you think the Sith are forgiving?"
Inimic hissed again. "It looks like I'll have a chance to make it up to him."
Behind them, there was a loud hiss and then a clatter.
Everyone turned to the opposite end of the room to find Xanatos spinning his lightsaber in one hand before deactivating it. A commando droid, sliced neatly in half and still glowing slightly along the cut, lay on the floor. He leaned against the wall. "Sorry to interrupt the moment," he said. "Just kind of thought you'd appreciate not being sniped."
"We do," Obi-Wan said. "Hello, Xanatos. You are not looking well."
And he wasn't particularly. His normally coiffed hair, even when he was in prison, was in disarray, and his face was pale and shocky.
"Yes," Xanatos said. "As it turns out, when you disagree with a Sith, they electrocute you. A lot."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Obi-Wan said politely.
"Well, life happens," he said. "They told me you were dead."
"Greatly exaggerated," Obi-Wan said.
"Holy Sith," Bruck said. "Your manners are excruciating. Can you please have this conversation some other time?"
"I agree," Inimic said darkly. The droids scattered around the room readied their weapons all at once.
"As you wish," Obi-Wan said.
"Xanatos," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Have you come back to the Light?"
"Nope," Xanatos said. "But I'm mad as hell, and I'm ready to kriffing destroy some droids."
The droids attacked. They burst into action, whirls of blue and green and red. Obi-Wan leaped and flipped over the back of a droideka, slowing himself that crucial amount to slide in behind its ray shield. Then he sliced the droideka in half.
Qui-Gon jumped and kicked out, sending a droid flying into a line of its fellows, their limbs demagnetizing and flying everywhere as they fell. Xanatos seemed to be working out some aggression on a circle of battle droids.
The Force chimed in warning, and Obi-Wan ducked just in time to avoid Darth Inimic, who leapt down from her post at the top of the stairs, lightsaber hissing as it passed close to Obi-Wan's body. She landed in the center of the fighting, the eye of a hurricane.
She had already switched over to a red saber, slightly different in design than her old. Possibly an old Sith artifact. She swung it, showy more than functional, surveying the room coolly.
The floor rocked. Another laser cannon blast from Jango outside.
Obi-Wan fought. He was used to killing droids, used to battle. For a moment he was back in the Clone Wars— the Sith, always around the corner. Droids, good only for death. Blaster fire and explosions all around
Obi-Wan turned and sliced the head off a droid.
He could only hope that, despite all his efforts, he hadn't just ensured history repeated itself.
Xanatos was still fighting, almost lazily. Obi-Wan backed up to him and deflected a blaster bolt away from Xanatos, right into a battle droid.
"Where is Palpatine?" he asked.
Xanatos shrugged. "Left him in the throne room. Probably still there."
"Thanks," Obi-Wan said. A droid was trying to sneak up on them— Obi-Wan Force-pushed it away and directly into the path of one of the other droids' blaster bolts.
"Not too bad," Xanatos said. "You sure I can't convince you to join the Dark Side?"
"You sure I can't convince you to join the Light?" Obi-Wan asked, and Xanatos grinned and saluted. He used some doids as footholds to make it midway up the staircase, where more droids were descending, and started to cut them down.
Obi-Wan went back to fighting, scanning the room. Throne room— would be downstairs, with a high ceiling, fairly defensible… Obi-Wan spotted a door likely to lead him there. Everyone else was engaged with droids.
Qui-Gon was fighting Darth Inimic.
Obi-Wan revised his plans. He sprinted that direction instead.
Qui-Gon was holding his own pretty well. Both he and Inimic favored Ataru, so it was almost dizzying to watch them fight, flipping and spinning and whirling. Red against green. It was not bringing up great memories in Obi-Wan.
Inimic was not as good as Maul was, but she was a Sith and she had spent an unknown amount of time training under Darth Sidious. That was enough to make anyone dangerous.
Qui-Gon spun, hit, and caught Inimic right on the shoulder. The flesh sizzled and she screamed. She brought her lightsaber down, knocked his out of his hand—
And cut a hole into his stomach.
"Master!" Obi-Wan said, and arrived just in time to catch Qui-Gon as he fell. Qui-Gon was much bigger than him, and they both stumbled to the ground, Obi-Wan slowing Qui-Gon's descent— Qui-Gon sprawled out, Obi-Wan with his master's head and torso on his upright lap. "N—no," he said. "It's too early."
Above them, there was a laugh.
Obi-Wan looked up, eyes shining, at Darth Inimic. She twirled her red lightsaber. Obi-Wan didn't look away. She brought it down.
Bruck caught it on his blade.
He pushed up, throwing her backwards, away from the injured Jedi. She slashed at him, but he moved quickly out of the way. Bruck caught her blade on his again— and again. She tried to jump through the air, to get around to his other side and flank him. But he caught her mid-flight, a line of his lightsaber across her side.
He was using perfect Makashi form— against Ataru. Just like he and Obi-Wan had practiced in the Temple, over and over.
He was doing well. But he was smaller and less experienced, and running on adrenaline and fear.
Inimic feinted, caught his blade, and punched Bruck in the face while his attention was on the lightsabers. Bruck stumbled back.
But she couldn't move to press the advantage, because, suddenly, Dooku was there. He flicked his wrist, and, just as neatly as she had disarmed Qui-Gon, her lightsaber went flying out into the chaos of the fight.
He turned, and raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Go."
Obi-Wan did. He hooked Qui-Gon's lightsaber back on his belt, and pulled him, with Force-assisted strength, towards an empty doorway. Behind, Inimic, radiating rage, pulled out another lightsaber— her old one, light yellow.
Qui-Gon was still conscious— he winced and laughed. "Don't look so worried, Obi-Wan," he said.
"I'm not, Master," Obi-Wan said, panting, as he dragged Qui-Gon. "I'm only worried about your weight. Surely you are too heavy, even for a man so unnecessarily huge as you."
"Don't worry," Qui-Gon wheezed, "You'll grow."
"Unfortunately, not so," Obi-Wan said. He had to stop, to take out his lightsaber and shield them from more of the droids. He stumbled mid-step and looked down. Darth Inimic's lightsaber was under his foot. Mindlessly, Obi-Wan tucked it into his own belt. Better that she not recover it. Then he hauled Qui-Gon back up, and finally made it out of the battle zone.
Xanatos, Bruck, and Dooku were still fighting inside. Tahl and Bant were still holding the line. Jango was providing cover above. But Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had a moment of quiet.
Obi-Wan propped Qui-Gon against the wall and examined his charred tunics.
"What do you think?" Qui-Gon asked, watching Obi-Wan's hands shake. "Will I make it, Healer Kenobi?"
It was a shallow wound— it would be very painful, but not at all life threatening. Not near anything vital, no front to back stabbing. No funerals today. Obi-Wan fisted his hands in Qui-Gon's robes and laughed. "You'll be all right," he said. "I've seen worse."
"Have you?"
"I really, really have," Obi-Wan said. He put a hand over the lightsaber burn and wove the Force around the injury. The skin closed up a little, and the nasty weep of the burn eased. It was no expert Healer's work, but it was better work than he could have done even during the war. Qui-Gon slumped, half in a healing trance, half worn out from his own body repairing itself. His eyes shut gently.
Obi-Wan sat back on his heels and breathed.
Someone stepped behind him.
Obi-Wan whirled and stood at the same time, his lightsaber held to someone's throat. He saw who it was and frowned. "Shmi?"
Shmi Skywalker, in the flesh, tucking a blaster into her waistband. There was something subtly off about her.
Then she grinned— a crooked, naughty grin promising the wielder of that smile was ready for trouble and had already caused some.
"Anakin?" Obi-Wan said.
"Hi, old man," Anakin said, through Shmi's mouth. Obi-Wan deactivated the lightsaber.
"What in blazes?" Obi-Wan said.
"You thought you were the only one the Force loved enough to send you back?" Anakin asked. "Only the thing is I'm not exactly born yet. But I couldn't leave you in the lurch, Master."
"So you possessed your mother?"
"When I explained who I was she was pretty happy to do it," Anakin said. His smile turned a little shy. He reached out a hand and Obi-Wan automatically clasped at his forearm. "It's good to see you. Even if you're kind of a pipsqueak."
"You're one to talk," Obi-Wan said, slightly more emotionally than he'd meant to. "I'm taller than you right now."
"Enjoy it," Anakin said. "Once I reach twelve you're never going to be taller than anyone ever again."
"It's good to see you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, and pulled him in for a hug. Shmi didn't feel like Anakin, two flesh arms where there should be metal, none of the muscled Jedi physique, soft where Anakin was sharp. But the grip around Obi-Wan was unmistakably that of Anakin Skywalker.
"You know, this is the second time I've had to save you on this planet," Anakin said, pressing their foreheads together.
"Oh, please," Obi-Wan said. "That first time doesn't—"
"Doesn't count, I know," Anakin echoed, with a slightly wet laugh. "Master—"
"Don't," Obi-Wan said. "Are you ready to end this?"
"I am," Anakin said, drawing back. "Awkward question— don't suppose I can borrow Qui-Gon's lightsaber? I've got the blaster but, well…" he shaped a Coruscanti accent, even worse in Shmi's voice than in Anakin's. "Uncivilized."
"That's not funny," Obi-Wan said. He put a hand on his chin. "Actually, I've got a lightsaber you can use. But…"
"But?"
Obi-Wan offered him Darth Inimic's lightsaber. "It's red," he said.
Anakin laughed. "Kind of poetic," he said. He took the lightsaber and turned to the side, igniting the blade to test it. "Balance and stuff. Light and Dark. I like it."
"You would," Obi-Wan said.
Anakin deactivated the blade and put it on his belt, with ease as if Shmi's body had done it a hundred times. "You know…" he said. "This is the end for me. Balance to the Force. My purpose fulfilled. After this—"
"You'll leave again."
"The other me has to have a chance," Anakin said. "In a better galaxy. And… I'm tired, Obi-Wan. I want to rest."
Obi-Wan put a hand to his cheek. "I understand. I'll miss you until we meet again."
"Master," Anakin said, and put his hand on Obi-Wan's face as well. "That's so sappy I think I might throw up."
"Are you ready?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I'm ready," Anakin said.
Obi-Wan shifted his shoulders, sloughing off Padawan Kenobi, shedding Obi-Wan and Ben and the crazy old wizard. He was just the Negotiator, standing side by side with the Hero With No Fear. The Team. Unstoppable— more like one entity than two. He grinned at Anakin. Anakin grinned back.
They started off down the hall, towards the throne room, walking in perfect step.
Back where Obi-Wan had left Qui-Gon, there was a small stirring as Qui-Gon half awoke. "What—?" he said blearily. He looked at Obi-Wan. "Padawan?"
"Be right back," Obi-Wan said cheerfully.
"Don't—" Qui-Gon said, still in the twilight of almost sleep. "The Sith—"
"Don't worry, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said.
"Sith Lords," Anakin said, "are our specialty."
Chapter headers from TCW - 1X18 Mystery of the Thousand Moons
and TCW - 6X08 The Disappeared
Mando'a translations:
Oya - let's hunt
Vod'ika(se) - little brother, sister, friend (s)
Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur - today is a good day for someone else to die, a Mandalorian war saying
Only one chapter left! Thanks for all your comments!
