The ride to Coruscant turned out to be a bumpy and uncomfortable one, perhaps as an omen of looming disaster.
Satine was more unwell than she ever remembered feeling on a spaceship, be it for the advanced stage of pregnancy, be it for the aftermath of the impalement. She repressed her desire to slow down or maybe make a stop or two along the way, recognizing the urgency of finding Kenobi, the Jedi. The endangered species, in Dooku's words. Satine hated acting as rashly and blindly as she had, but having no other source to glean information and understanding from, she had no choice left but...to trust the Sith...and her own intuition.
Sooner than expected, the dust-colored spheric shape of Coruscant appeared in the distance. With a lump in her throat, Satine began the descent process. She could't land without being intercepted, but for the time being she determined it wouldn't be a problem: once in the atmosphere, she would fly around following Obi-Wan's track, then she would attempt snatching him from whatever situation he was in - which was likely to be altogether dangerous and insidious - and whisk themselves away from that hellbound Sithhole as soon as possible.
All she wished for was for them to be reunited, and safe.
Was it asking too much? Satine couldn't allow herself to keep her hopes up, for (the very realistic) fear of being disappointed. For all she knew, the little dot on her monitor could've well been...a corpse. A corpse that was being dragged around. Wait...no. Stop this, she told herself. This isn't healthy. Having been raised by Mandalorians, no hypothetical worst case scenario could surpass her imagination.
Soon, she entered the atmosphere. And the search began.
Obi-Wan was inside his Jedi Starfighter, 500 Republica bound. His intestines were twisting inside of him, as he internally acknowledged the rawness of the tasks that awaited him. Never, not even in his wildest nightmares, would he have imagined to find himself in such a desperately irreversible, gloomy situation. Being a Jedi who had lived and breathed war for much of his life, he had learnt early on to release his fear of dying in a violent, premature way. He was used to ugliness. However, now he realized that nothing, literally nothing could have prepared him for the downward spiral of horrific events that had succeeded one another during the last year. He was baffled, defeated and, worse of all, he wasn't sure he would be able to react. The destabilizing amount of Jedi-directed hate he seemed to encounter as he skillfully scurried across the skyroutes wasn't helping, either. He determined he couldn't be distracted - not if he wanted to survive to at least carry out his duties. He wouldn't deviate until he reached Padme.
Or better, so he thought.
A medium-sized, hyperspace-capacity spaceship flew over his head, three or four levels above. Before even getting close, the unusual open space transport had caught his attention, but it was what he felt when the spacecraft approached him that really gave him goosebumps, awakening his inner soul and sensation in a way that even a minute earlier he would have no longer believed possible.
A presence. A familiar one at that. One he believed he would never sense, ever again.
Satine. That was the first, strong thought that instinctually came to his mind, overcoming everything else.
Life. He could picture one for himself, all of a sudden. How fast can things be destroyed. How fast can they change for the better, too. Hope is a feeble silver hair, one to be grabbed by unsuspecting, tired hands. Because even the most destroyed of hearts can hope to recover.
But it was short-lived. Soon, self-doubt inundated his mind. His soul shattered. It couldn't be. How naive of him. So he kept going, he kept going towards the...inevitable demise of everything he had left. Obi-Wan had not dared thinking too much about the specifics of what was to happen, but deep down he knew that it was nothing good. Who was he fooling? Headstrong Padme would never turn her back on her spouse. Not like that. The newly anointed Darth Vader would never be forgiving, nor merciful. Bloodshed, in one way or another, was inevitable at that point. And he knew that. He knew that fully well. He could still...pretend that he could in some way work a miracle and win Anakin back, even proving Yoda wrong. But if he hadn't been able to work any miracles up until now, why should that change right there and then?
What if...he dared following...a potential miracle...instead?
He wasn't expecting it when he saw his hand twist the handle to make a detour. Duty always came first to him, but if things couldn't be turned upside down during this surreal night of absurdity, then he didn't know when they could. So after the mysterious spaceship he went, clinging onto a tiny, faltering, irrational hope, letting his selfish side prevail for once.
Satine realized she was being followed by her very target. Her heart surged with excitement and relief. She could see his starfighter now. He was alive! He was alive and they still had hope. She motioned to initiate a U-turn and was trying to figure out what to do in order to descend enough so that she could "suck him in" inside her hangar, when the unthinkable happened.
Seemingly popping out of nowhere, a purple and green spaceship approached the Jedi's starfighter...and sucked it in its hangar instead, before speeding up in a crazed rush to exit the stratosphere. Obi-Wan had been abducted, right under her own bewildered eyes.
She couldn't believe it! She felt saddened, frustrated, irritated, desperate, at loss for thoughts...until her reactionary instincts kicked in.
A Mandalorian knows there's no bottom to be hit. The fall is endless. Therefore, she decided to adapt to the situation and pursue Obi-Wan's kidnappers. She knew where they were going, thanks to the still functioning tracker. That, however, didn't make her feel better. Quite the contrary, indeed. Obi-Wan was being brought to...Zygerria.