Adrift: PART VII
The Refuge's escape pod number 56 hurtled through space towards a small planet with breakneck speed, spinning and whirling madly, seemingly totally out of control. Inside, Obi-Wan was pressed tightly against his seat, having fastened his restraint harness just in time. AZI-2 had not been so lucky; the small droid had slammed into the bulkhead with an ominous crash, despite its repulsorlifts.
The lights on the pilot's console blinked wildly, but Obi-Wan could do nothing but clasp the armrests, knuckles white, and try to hold in the strong urge to vomit. The pod seemed to drop faster with every second, the change in speed keenly felt by Obi-Wan's churning stomach. The life pod shuddered and groaned with the strain, but at least the small vessel was still intact – no thanks to the Separatists, as the enemy destroyer continued to furiously fire through the debris field, aiming at the unstably flying pod. Soon the vulture droids would join in on the fray, and Obi-Wan could only hope the pod would drop even faster and reach the planet's surface before that happened.
Obi-Wan opened the eyes he had squeezed shut by reflex, and forced himself to peer outside, trying to discern how close they were to the planet the escape pod's diagnostics had deemed habitable enough to try to land on. As the pod spun fiercely around, the view alternated between black – flash – bluegreen – flash – black with sickening speed. He gulped, tasting bile; the bluegreen was definitely looking bigger, coming closer. Hopefully the pod's autopilot would soon reduce speed and land them safely, or it wouldn't matter if the Separatists were hot on their heels as Obi-Wan, along with everything else on the pod, would be pulverized crashing to the ground.
Anakin would know how to disengage the autopilot, Obi-Wan thought suddenly. He would crash-land the pod, but with his miraculous flying skills, we would come out of it alright. Obi-Wan pressed his eyes again tightly shut, not wishing to see the fast approaching planet. Sharp regret and aching longing made his breath hitch, and he was suddenly feeling as if something was pressing against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Anakin.
Obi-Wan had crossed paths with death many times, had faced the very real possibility of his own death more times he could count, and he had been ready to meet it with acceptance and stoicism. Obi-Wan didn't fear death, and yet, he found himself to be unwilling to accept the current situation he was in. Suddenly he couldn't bear the thought that he would die without ever repairing his friendship with Anakin, without mending all that had been broken between them. Some of his last words to Anakin could not be the petty, angry ones he had thoughtlessly said as they had parted ways. He could not die and leave Anakin to believe that Obi-Wan despised him, that he was not forgiven.
Because Anakin was forgiven, Obi-Wan realized with little surprise. Too stubborn to initially admit it, he had forgiven Anakin days ago. Of course he had. But Anakin did not know, Anakin thought –
Anakin. Anakin.
Desperately, Obi-Wan reached for the gossamer silvery strands that linked him to Anakin, tried to close everything else from his mind – the horribly whirling escape pod, the Separatists in mad pursuit, the unknown planet coming ever closer – and focus on the connection he had with his former Padawan. He knew that the Force joined them together with an unbreakable bond, no matter how vast the space between them, how foolishly stubborn their own minds. He could reach Anakin – he would reach Anakin.
With determination that had toppled kingdoms, Obi-Wan reached with all his will, all his might, with every hope and wish he had ever had; he reached across the universe and time towards the one that held a part of his soul.
-o-
Anakin woke, and the bedroom was dim, full of dark indefinable shadows. Feeling unsettled, as if he had perhaps forgotten something important, Anakin rose from the bed, the sheets pooling around his bare legs like cool, dark water. The floor was cold underneath his feet. He walked through the empty apartment, the shadows following in his wake, until he came to the open veranda.
Looking over at the night-time city was the moon goddess, long hair cascading down her back, slender form veiled with a shimmering gown. The stone beauty arrested Anakin's attention completely, made his heart throb with desperate longing. Then the moon goddess moved, and marble morphed into flesh; Padmé turned to watch Anakin with empty eyes.
He wanted to say, I love you. He wanted to take her into his arms and never let her go. He wanted to merge their hearts together so there would be no separating them, not by anyone or anything, not ever. But instead, he stood rooted to his spot, mute. His wife continued to stare at him with a hollow look.
Say something! Anakin thought, but no sound emerged from his lips. Don't look at me like that.
Padmé's lips curled slightly, as if she had heard his silent pleadings and found them beneath her. "This is my job – my duty." Her voice rang clearly, amplified just like in the Galactic Senate Chamber. She was the Senator, regal and untouchable, worlds away from him.
Be my wife. He mouthed the words, but there was only silence. Love me.
Padmé shook her head, dark curls coiling like snakes around her throat. "I can´t live like this anymore. I won't."
With great effort, Anakin whispered, "I don't understand." His feeble voice barely reached her.
Padmé's gaze turned pitying. "I know you don't." The shadows grew darker, swallowing the edges of the veranda with inky blackness, creeping closer to her. "I don't know who's in there sometimes. I just know that I'm not happy anymore. I don't feel safe."
"I will keep you safe," Anakin whispered, watching with dismay as the dark tendrils twined themselves around Padmé's legs, sidling upward, finally covering her waist with a lover's greedy embrace.
"No." The shadows enveloped her in darkness, until finally only her face was visible. Padmé smiled at Anakin, saying calmly, "This is not the end." The void in her gaze had vanished at last, and in her eyes burned the embers of some kind of fierce, secret joy. Anakin watched as her lovely face turned to stone, and then there was no Padmé at all, only the shadow shaped like her, and he couldn't breathe, he was nothing, nothing, nothing –
And then voices. Voices in the dark, whispering to him.
Deceiver, murderer.
Many voices, hissing, spitting, croaking. Die, Jedi. Die, Jedi. Die and rise anew in the Dark.
Hear me – familiar weary words drifted from somewhere far away – remember…I have always loved you. Always. But their fleeting comfort was immediately drowned out by a terrible screech of I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!
His mother's quiet wisdom came next, You can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting. Anakin turned frantically around, tried to see her, touch her, but there was nothing but the dark, not even her voice anymore only –
I know you, Anakin. Palpatine.
Then Qui-Gon. Look deeper. You will find another way. Remember your training Anakin; trust your instincts.
There was a strange glow at the edge of the darkness, yellow-orange. A hint of smoke and ash. Anakin shivered, knowing he did not want to see whatever was there.
I will do such terrible things. It was his own voice, but he had not spoken.
Yes. But it doesn't have to be that way. The choice is still yours to make. The future by its nature can be changed.
The fiery glow blazed brighter, and he could feel immense heat on his skin, burning him to the core.
You were my brother, Anakin!
His heart beat wildly, painfully; he didn't wish to hear anymore. Someone rasped right behind his ear, I can feel your anger. It gives you focus, makes you stronger. Another whispered, I'll never turn to the dark side. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.
Stop it, stop it, stop it! Anakin yelled, covering his ears with his hands, closing his eyes against the red-hot blaze.
Anakin. Obi-Wan's voice, faint but intense. Anakin.
Obi-Wan! He opened his eyes, wishing to see his Master, but there was only the enormous Great Hall. Cold and empty, it seemed strangely neglected, like no one had been there in years. Anakin's footsteps echoed around the grand hall, made him startle. It soon became clear that the rest of the Jedi Temple was the same; chilly and devoid of all signs of life.
Anakin. Obi-Wan's voice again, insistent.
I'm coming Master, I'm coming! Anakin hurried down the stairs, raced through the corridors, until finally he came upon a familiar entrance. The security doors were open; Anakin stepped inside the Holocron Vault without further thought. Obi-Wan stood in the middle of the large room, beside an empty pedestal. In his hands, he held the crystalline cube.
"We don't have enough time," Obi-Wan said, looking at the holocron, which was not a cube anymore, but a small, black stone.
"Master?" Anakin asked hesitantly.
Obi-Wan turned towards him, seeing right into Anakin's soul. His eyes were heavy with such wealth of emotions, nothing left hidden. "Anakin, this will not happen. This cannot happen." His Master reached towards Anakin, fingers touching Anakin's cheek lightly. They both trembled.
Anakin!
And suddenly Anakin was falling, he was dropping through the blackness with sickening speed, spinning, whirling, heart beating wildly, through the dark – flash – bluegreen – flash – dark – flash – he squeezed his seat hard – death was coming closer – Anakin – pressure heat – Anakin – regret – love – dark –
– and Anakin jolted awake in the pilot's seat, his mechanical hand gripping the armrest violently, his other hand still holding on to the river stone. The dream drifted away from him almost instantly, leaving just the echo of Obi-Wan's voice, saying his name. The stone was scalding hot against his hand.
-o-
"General Kenobi." Something hard poked at his shoulder, repeatedly. "General Kenobi, you must regain consciousness as soon as possible – preferably now." The voice sounded anxious, and continued to harass him, although Obi-Wan had already groaned feebly in assent. He tried to open his heavy eyes, but the task was uncommonly difficult to carry out.
"My apologies General, but this is for your own good," the voice muttered and then – ZAP! Obi-Wan's body jerked with the small electric shock, his eyes flying open. He stared at the droid for a few seconds, uncomprehending, and then the indignity of it hit: "You electrocuted me!"
"Only a little," AZI-2 said morosely. "I judged the amount to be sufficient – and quite safe – to rouse you from the unconsciousness that resulted from the shock of the impact we were subjected to."
"Come again?" Obi-Wan could not quite comprehend what the med droid had just claimed; his head hurt like he had drank several bottles of Corellian brandy and been stampeded upon by a herd of wild Banthas.
AZI-2 blinked, somehow managing to look mildly exasperated. "We hit the ground – hard. The escape pod's autopilot managed to slow our descent, but the landing was far from the optimal performance it was designed to execute in an emergency. We should file a complaint."
"Right," Obi-Wan said, wondering if he was still unconscious and dreaming up the ridiculousness. "And just why did you deem it necessary to electrocute me?"
"Because we must hurry," the droid answered, once again sounding worried. "The Separatists were firing upon us, and although it might be possible that they think we have perished in the crash, I fear we –"
"– are not that lucky," Obi-Wan said grimly, recalling in a sudden rush of memories the whole frakled situation. They would most certainly not be so lucky as to be thought dead; if the Seppies had been tenacious enough to comb through the debris for hours, they would inspect the site the escape pod had crashed and make sure there were no survivors. They really had to hurry.
But first things first: Obi-Wan took some precious time to try to get the emergency homing beacon to transmit their emergency code and location to any Republic troops nearby, but he had to quickly abandon the effort as useless. The pod smelled acrid; something had burned inside the pilot's console, making it inoperative. The pod's systems were obviously dead.
Obi-Wan fumbled his harness open and wrenched himself up from the seat, pushing the pain aside resolutely. As long as he could move and fight, he was alright. "Let's gather some supplies, and then make ourselves scarce before the clankers get here."
As if it had been just waiting for the command, AZI-2 sped to the storage chests that doubled as benches and started to rifle through them, tossing various things around. With Obi-Wan's guidance, it had soon filled a rucksack with the most essential things: rations, medkit, glowrods, tool set and the thermal blanket. There was also a small, portable charger that Obi-Wan was clad to take with them; he didn't know how long AZI-2 could operate before it had to charge itself, but at least it now had some means to do so.
Apprehensive, Obi-Wan looked through the cracked and dirty viewport, seeing light, but little else. There was no telling where they were, or if the terrain outside really was as habitable as the pod's diagnostics had claimed earlier. Still, there was nothing for it but to step outside and survey the situation with his own senses.
The hatch slid open with a slight stutter, and Obi-Wan was momentarily blinded by the bright light after the blackness of space and the dimness of the pod. AZI-2 pushed itself ahead of Obi-Wan, moving to hover just outside the pod, its head swivelling around multiple times in quick succession.
"The atmosphere is breathable and harmless for humans," the droid decided after apparently doing some tests with its own diagnostics tools. "General, it is safe for you to exit the craft."
"Thank you, I hadn't noticed," Obi-Wan said dryly, fully aware that if the atmosphere hadn't agreed with him, he would have already been either withering on the ground from the lack of oxygen or foaming at the mouth because of the toxins.
After crashing down, the escape pod had ploughed the grassy earth several dozens of meters, until it had finally come to a stop on a gentle slope, at the base of a large mountain. Before them a brilliant green field spread out, flanked with forests on all but one side. A sun was high on the sky; two pale orbs – probably moons – were just visible at the edge of the horizon.
"We must be on Kushibah then," Obi-Wan reasoned. He still couldn't recall anything about the system or the planet they found themselves marooned in. He turned towards AZI-2 hopefully. "What do you know about the planet?"
The small droid met his eyes with a blank look. "I am a medical, not a navigation, droid. My programming does not feature information on every planet and system of the galaxy."
"Of course," Obi-Wan muttered. "Well, it is unlikely that the planet is a member of the Republic or aligns itself with the Separatists – that I would remember. We'll just have to take our chance with the natives." He examined their surroundings critically; the field was far too visible, offering little cover. That left either the mountain or the forest, and Obi-Wan didn't really feel like climbing with a broken arm and battered…everything.
"What are the chances of the native population being advanced enough to have the equipment we need to contact help?" AZI-2's mechanical voice was laced with nervousness. "And what are the chances of the native population being sympathetic to our blight? And what kind of dangerous creatures could possibly be here that we might encounter –"
"AZI-2," Obi-Wan interrupted the droid calmly, "stop panicking."
"I do not panic," the small medical droid claimed, clearly appalled.
"Good, because this is just the beginning." Obi-Wan started to head towards the forest, senses alert for possible danger. The Force felt sedate; the nature teeming with life around them peaceful. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before that tranquillity would be broken – if Kushibah truly was a peaceful planet, soon it would not be, for Obi-Wan had unwittingly brought war and death with him. Remorse clawed at him, but there was nothing he could do about it. Soon, the Separatist war machine would land on the planet, intent on hunting him down, mowing down everyone that got on its way.
"A beginning of what?" AZI-2 asked, following Obi-Wan and carrying the rucksack.
"The beginning of the fight for survival." If there was no way to leave the planet, then the only other option was to wait for rescue – wait for Anakin. Because Anakin would come, Obi-Wan was certain of that. He would just have to survive until then.