AN: I am still working on other WiPs, but had to write out this short scene. I think I am going to tackle this story in a similar way that I wrote Penumbra: a series of one-shot/one scene chapters.

I feel the writing in this chapter is a little rough though.

A Journey Begins

In contrast to the activity in the hanger bay, it was quiet in the ship's cockpit. Obi-Wan Kenobi took the opportunity of the peace and silence to sit in the pilot's chair, to close his eyes and centre himself, to find some balance within where balance out-with was painfully lacking. The Force was in turmoil; undulating and heaving in grief and darkness from the many deaths that had occurred in the last few days since…

Anakin.

Try as he might, Obi-Wan couldn't stop the pain of that name from lancing through him, from twisting his face into a grimace as he fought against his emotions; his loss and horror and sheer disbelief.

Even after seeing what Anakin had done with his own eyes, even standing in front of his friend...

his brother!

… and seeing him; seeing and feeling what he had become, the way everything had been so twisted and wrong with him, Obi-Wan struggled to believe the events of the last few days. Watching Anakin strangle Padme while she was pregnant with his children, seeing and experiencing Anakin's rage and hatred for him, for the Jedi, for everything that only a few days before he would have died to protect.

His foolish, but ultimately successful, stunt on Yerbana was testament to his total disregard for his own life and of his true compassion for others.

and his arrogant belief in his own abilities

No, Obi-Wan dismissed his thoughts. Anakin's only thought was for the people of the nearby township who had been under the Separatives occupation for so long.

How could this have happened? He knew Anakin was under some stress and duress, but nothing… nothing… had ever lead him to believe that his old padawan would fall so completely.

It had all been so fast. So unexpected. One minute he had been bantering with his men, with Cody, and the next fighting for his life against those he had once trusted with it. Fighting Anakin, watching him change, his eyes ablaze like Maul's, watching him burn, listening to him scream his hatred as flames and darkness consumed him.

"I should have killed him," he whispered to the empty, still, cockpit, "I should have killed him, I should not have walked away."

A moment of weakness; he could not kill his friend? Or was it a moment of vengeance, a brief brush of his own with the darkness that had consumed his brother? Pain, and revenge, for what Anakin had done to the younglings in the temple, for what Palpatine…

no, Sidious

…had done to the Jedi.

So many deaths. In those first few moments, as Masters and padawans were decimated, the Force had cried out, shrieked with pain and betrayal, sending out surge after surge of anguish. Now, in the few days since, there had only been a few bursts of agony; of a sudden fear and then terrible silence as lone Jedi were hunted and murdered.

There was one death he dreaded sensing more than any other. One that had not yet come. Or perhaps it had, and he had just not been aware, too preoccupied by other events and concerns. He could no longer sense her presence within the Force.

Ahsoka.

What had happened to Ahsoka? He had last spoken with her as he travelled to Utapu to confront Grievous. Yoda had told him of her success on Mandalore, of her capture of Maul and her intent to return to Coruscant with Commander Rex.

"Wishing to speak with Skywalker, she was. Troubled she seemed, despite her success."

Had Ahsoka learned something? Maul had once been the Sith Master's apprentice, had he known of Sidious' plans?

All he knew was that Ahsoka had been alone on that ship. Alone and surrounded by clones – and with Maul – when the order was given.

Still so young and so alone.

Obi-Wan feared that she had perished in those initial minutes when so many were slain and that her death had been lost among the clamour and cries of the crowd. It pained him that their final conversations, both the one in person, and the one via hologram, were not ones of friendship but of disagreement.

"Tell Anakin," she had said.

"I will," he had answered.

He had not.

And what of Ahsoka's quarry and prisoner?

Maul? Had he survived? Used the situation to his advantage and slipped his bonds? Is he, once more, loosed upon the galaxy?

So many questions without answers, while the Force roiled teasingly. He longed to reach out, to search within the Force for answers, to search for Ahsoka, but Yoda had cautioned him against venturing too far lest Sidious or Ana…

Vader, he told himself. His name is Vader now.

… sensed him.

There was too much at risk now to make a youngling's mistake, for should Vader sense him, then the twins would be at risk. Luke, Leia; they were strong in the Force like their father, and even with the combined strength of himself and Yoda shielding them, their presence was radiant in the darkness and Obi-wan knew all too well, how tempting a light was to creatures of the night.

Luke and Leia were their hope; not just the hope for new Jedi, but the hope that he and Yoda could, somehow, make amends for failing their father and failing the Galaxy.

Is it fair to place such a heavy burden on such young babes?

Refusing to answer his own question, and letting go of his thoughts and concerns, he opened his eyes to look out at the small hangar and watched as Bail Organa directed the last of the packing crates towards the ramp of the small ship that he had gifted Obi-Wan and Yoda for their journey into the unknown regions.

The Jedi rubbed at his face, wiped at his tired and heavy eyes. When had he last slept? When had he last sat for this long, when had he last been alone long enough to consider the events of the last few days?

To mourn?

He lowered his hands and opened his eyes again, glanced out and saw Organa standing on the deck plates and looking up at him with some expectation and a little agitation.

With a sigh, and a grunt as tired muscles protested, the Jedi drew himself up and stepped out of the cockpit. He walked through the small freighter, slaloming around Anakin's astromech droid as it worked at a conduit, and the stacked packing crates and boxes in the passenger compartment as he made his way to the ramp and down to the hangar floor.

"Senator," he began, tucking his hands into his robes; he could still smell the smoke and ash of Mustafar from the cloth, "thank you for your kindness and your assistance, and…"

"Are you sure this is the right course of action," Organa began, looking troubled, "to take the twins on a search for the first Jedi temple? You said yourself the place could be a myth and…"

"I trust in the Force, Senator, and I felt the same as Master Yoda. The Force is directing us, and we must follow its course."

There was a flash of something in Organa's eyes and Obi-Wan could sense the man's disappointment and unease. "I am uncomfortable with such young children being subjected to a long journey, the ship has few defensive weapons and the shields are not…"

"It is very typical Alderaani ship," Obi-Wan agreed, trying to change the subject. They'd already had this conversation with the Viceroy of Alderaan. His offer to adopt the children and pass them off as orphans of war had been considered, but the Force had resisted, had bucked at the suggestion. It would have been the wrong course of action. "But it will suit our needs. It is a very kind gift. You are taking a risk by helping us, as are your men."

There was a minute tightening of Organa's face, a flash of anger at being cut off, but Obi-Wan felt the man's resignation slide into place. The senator was a good man, a kind man and had always been a strong supporter of the Jedi Knights and he was the only person to try and intervene during the massacre at the temple. It was thanks to the Force that he was spared, it was thanks to his position in the Senate. Bail would be a valuable contact for them, would be a valuable ally for the twins once they were grown.

"Please do not worry about us, Master Jedi," Bail told him. "My men will be discrete and Alderaan will always offer a home to Padme's children." His voice was a little choked, his grief for his friend so very close to the surface. "Please, contact me if you need any more help in the future."

Obi-Wan smiled. "We shall, Viceroy," he pledged, with a polite bow.

Organa gestured to the final crates. "Do you have everything that you need? I could bring some more milk for the children, rations, clothing…"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Viceroy, if you give us any more the ship may not make it off the ground," it was a poor attempt at humour, but Organa gave a small smile. "You have given us everything that we could possibly need for our first few months. Master Yoda tells me that where we are headed is said to have an abundance of resources that will meet our needs and that of the children."

Organa nodded, lips pressed together, and he echoed, "… is said…"

"Rest assured, Bail," and Obi-Wan was aware this was the first time he had called the man his given name rather than a title, "if the world does not meet our needs, the Force will guide us to another." He hesitated, laid a hand on the senator's shoulder. "We will keep the twins safe. I promise you."

Bail nodded, but he seemed as troubled as when their conversation began and Obi-Wan knew it was not just the fate of Padme and Anakin's children he was concerned for; Bail Organa was weighed down by how quickly the Republic had fallen and how a dictatorship had risen in its place. Obi-Wan had no words of comfort that would ease that situation; with a Sith Lord as Emperor the Galaxy would only become a much harder and darker place despite the peace that Palpatine had promised.

He was saved from offering platitudes and clichés by the hangar door sweeping open to admit Yoda who tapped his stick on the ground as he led a floating baby pod toward Obi-Wan and the senator.

"Ready the children are," he told them, "sleeping peacefully now."

Bail leaned over the pod and reached in a hand to stroke the soft cheeks of the baby girl. "My wife and I always wanted to adopt a baby girl," he said dully and to no particular person. His voice was wistful, heavy.

"Many children orphaned in this war, there are," Yoda observed, his tone warm, "A home you can still give to one."

"I see Padme in her," Bail stated fondly, then he cupped the boy's head his thumb affectionately tracing a line across Luke's tiny forehead, and the babe frowned in his sleep, "and Skywalker in him."

Yoda harrumphed. "Need that, he does not."

Bail straightened and withdrew his hand, he offered it to Obi-Wan, who took it, grasping it tightly. "Thank you again, Senator."

Bail nodded, withdrew his hand and bowed to Yoda, "Master Jedi, you only need call."

"My thanks also, Senator," Yoda told him, "save these children we could not, without your help."

"It is the least I can do for Padme's children," he turned and took a few steps, but stopped, looking back around. "Her protocol droid," he suddenly remembered, "he belongs to Luke and Leia."

Obi-Wan visibly winced, "I am sure See Threepio will be more at home in your court on Alderaan, than with us in the unknown regions. Keep him, until the children are grown. We will take Artoo with us."

With a final nod Organa left. Obi-wan watched him go, knowing that he was looking at a man who was not about to sit idly by while a galaxy suffered around him.

"Rebellion I sense within Organa," Yoda spoke aloud, mirroring Obi-Wan's private thoughts. "Hope, I feel."

"Yes, Master, I sense it, too."

Yoda waved a hand and the pod carrying the children floated up the ships ramp. The Jedi Master stepped up after it. "Come Obi-Wan," he encouraged, "our journey begins."

ooOOoo

tbc...