Adrift: PART X
They reverted to realspace somewhere along the Pinooran Spur, after only a short jump through the hyperspace. The small hyperspace route was mapped enough that upon exiting it, the risk of collision into any stars or other matter was minimal. As it was, the space around them was empty, apart from a red giant in the distance. The star glowed ember-red, a lone fixpoint in the darkness. Anakin eased the shuttle into idle, letting them drift slowly in the empty space. It was a good place to take stock of the situation, their ship and themselves.
For a small moment, the cockpit was as silent as the grave.
Then Anakin sighed, a long exhale of air that sounded impossibly loud to Obi-Wan. His former Padawan flicked a few switches, flooding the ship with light, and rambled, "I'll have to check the shuttle, run the diagnostics to make sure none of the hits we took damaged anything important. We're still too close for comfort to Kushibah, the Separatists might intercept any transmissions, so I don't think we should try to contact anyone until we have put more distance between us and those kriffing sleemos. But first I want to make sure that you –"
"Anakin," Obi-Wan interrupted his friend firmly, "I'm fine."
Anakin turned towards Obi-Wan, incredulous. "Master, you look terrible!"
"So do you." Obi-Wan frowned; the harsh lighting had revealed the deep, dark smudges under Anakin's eyes, his tangled and greasy hair, the hollow cheeks. "I crash-landed and was hunted for days – what's your excuse?" Obi-Wan regretted his caustic words the moment they left his lips and Anakin looked away, clearly embarrassed. Obi-Wan was intimately familiar with the way the boy could worry; if those Anakin cared deeply about were in danger, the mission to save them could easily consume him, make him neglect his own needs. Force knew Obi-Wan had had to witness that enough times, so he recognized the signs.
He tried again, more gently. "Anakin, I promise that I'm not hurt." That was even the truth – all the injuries he had sustained in the explosion on the Refuge and in the subsequent events had healed almost completely. The Force had been a great help, but Obi-Wan couldn't deny that AZI-2's diligent care had also played a part.
"Please." There was a hint of genuine pleading, helplessness in Anakin's tone that was rare and all the more shocking for it. Obi-Wan ached hearing it. "Just…could you just humour me in this…please?"
Carefully, Obi-Wan sought Anakin through their bond, and was flooded with a mix of anxious fear and jittery anticipation, all of it coloured by deep exhaustion, only barely held in check. He nodded, deciding that yielding to an unnecessary medical examination would be the lesser of two evils. "Alright."
They left the cockpit and entered the small passenger area in silence. Anakin fastened one of the narrow fold-out bunks to a horizontal position, pointedly gesturing Obi-Wan to sit on it. Obi-Wan sighed and did as he was told, while Anakin started to rummage through the storage cabinets, presumably in search of the ship's portable medical scanner.
"Really, there is no need –" Obi-Wan tried, but was cut short by the arrival of AZI-2. The droid blinked its huge round eyes, taking in the scene. Obi-Wan could instantly see where the situation was disastrously heading, but could do nothing to avert it.
"Might I be of service? If it is medical aid you need, then I am fully qualified and certified by the Republic Medical Corps."
Surprised by the presence of an unfamiliar droid, Anakin asked sharply, "Who are you?"
"I am AZI-29998757791377778456, although most call me AZI-2 because that is considerably shorter than my real serial number. I was stationed aboard the medical frigate Refuge and tasked to take care of General Kenobi by Knight S'ghan."
Anakin grinned wolfishly, looking straight at Obi-Wan as he said, "I want a full and truthful account of Obi-Wan's condition."
"Anakin –"
But AZI-2 was already rattling off Obi-Wan's complete medical history starting from the moment he had stepped aboard the Refuge. When the droid described in detail the concussion and broken bones Obi-Wan had sustained, Anakin's expression darkened, but luckily AZI-2 ploughed on, until finally, the droid came to the same conclusion as Obi-Wan had earlier, pronouncing General Kenobi as 'reasonably healthy, although lacking in proper nutrients and rest'.
Anakin, looking somewhat overwhelmed, tapped the med droid on the head, the same way he often did to R2. "I think I like you, AZI-2." He sounded pleased, like he had just gained an unexpected ally.
Obi-Wan groaned. "Don't get any ideas."
"Me?" Anakin asked innocently, somewhat less anxious now that he had been assured of Obi-Wan's health.
"I know that look."
"I just thought it would be beneficial – purely from an operational standpoint you understand – if you had your own medical droid always following you around."
"That is never going to happen," Obi-Wan proclaimed, the mere notion of it making him shudder from horror.
"Oh, don't be so sure." Anakin smiled, a glint of infectious mischief in his eyes. "I think the Council might side with me on this one."
"And I think AZI-2 should check you next." There was only little – alright, perhaps more than a little – retribution in the suggestion. Mainly Obi-Wan was worried about Anakin's wan complexion, the fatigued air that hung around him like persistent Coruscant smog, permeating Anakin's smiles, his flippant words.
"I'm fine," Anakin said immediately, pursing his lips in irritation. "Don't turn this on me. I'm not the one who narrowly escaped from an exploding frigate, crash-landed while being shot at and avoided Separatists troops – all while injured. That whole time, I did nothing but sat in this karking ship. Why would I need medical attention?"
"Anakin –"
But Anakin did not want to listen to anything Obi-Wan had to say, so in true Anakin-fashion, he tried to deflect attention by claiming that other, more important things needed him urgently. "I have to run the diagnostics, make sure this ship can get us home. We need to get back to Coruscant."
Before Obi-Wan could protest, Anakin strode back to the cockpit, leaving Obi-Wan alone with a perplexed med droid. Too tired to chase after his wayward Padawan, Obi-Wan decided to let Anakin be. The young man wasn't wrong about their need to assess the condition of their ship; if it was critically damaged, they needed to make quick decisions on what to do next. Obi-Wan could prod Anakin's health later, and then perhaps they could talk…
In the meantime, Obi-Wan would gladly take the opportunity to scrub the disgusting amount of filth he had accumulated off his skin in the shuttle's cramped refresher.
-o-
When Anakin finally hauled himself out of the engine compartment, feeling – and no doubt looking – even more dishevelled and grimy than he had before, he was met with an irritatingly tidy Obi-Wan Kenobi. His old Master had somehow managed to magic himself to closely resemble the neat and immaculate Jedi Master he always was in the Temple; face clean, beard trimmed, not a hair out of place. Paradoxically, it both reassured and annoyed Anakin. Only the stains and creases in Obi-Wan's clothes undermined his otherwise clean-cut appearance, exposing what the Jedi had gone through.
Not wanting to give Obi-Wan any chance to start on the topics Anakin wasn't yet ready to engage in, he quickly launched into ship-talk. "We got some bumps and scrapes to our shields and stabilizer foils, but they're not the problem."
"What is?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding concerned.
"Two of the engines have sustained considerable damage." The shuttle had four Mk VIII Shrike Major ion engines, so even the loss of two wasn't a complete catastrophe. "I repaired what I could, but we lack most of the needed parts. We'll fly, but not to Coruscant." Disappointment shrouded his thoughts, made his voice gravelly. Anakin had to see Padmé, convince her that they belonged together, make everything between them as it had once been. Instinctually he knew that time was against him: the more days passed, the further away his wife got from him, the gulf thrust between them by Padmé's words ever widening.
"Meaning?"
"The ship can manage one short hyperspace jump, then we'll have to either repair it for real or find another ship."
"That is…unfortunate." Obi-Wan stroked his beard, the motion so familiar to Anakin, that despite all the problems and hardships still waiting them, it reminded him that something – and not just something, but the most important thing – had gone right: Obi-Wan was alive, and they were together.
They moved to the cockpit and bent their heads over the nav computer, examining their current location and the Galactic Coordinates near them. The good news was that they had a straight route to the Hydian Way, which would take them all the way to the Core. Bad news was that they were in the middle of Separatist controlled space, although there were some Republic troops attempting to engage the Separatist forces in several locations along the Hydian Way, stretching from Praadost to almost to the border to the Mid Rim.
"The 26th is on Praadost," Anakin pointed out. "They are probably our nearest troops."
"What about Ord Cestus?"
"I don't think we'll get that far," Anakin admitted. He looked at the different coordinates, but they all seemed distant and unsafe. One of the coordinates that he had already dismissed caught his eye again and a mad thought began to form… "What about Ord Radama? That's closer than Praadost."
Obi-Wan turned his gaze to Anakin, frowning. "That's a Separatist stronghold – why would we risk going there?"
"Well…I cracked the freighter's flight computer – it had been in Ord Radama right before someone dumped it for us to find." The mystery of the holocron grabbed Anakin's attention again with a strange, almost visceral feeling of urgency that clashed with his intense wish to head straight for Coruscant. He knew that the missing piece of the time-traveling device was important and that they had to find it.
"Anakin…" Obi-Wan looked troubled. "That is a hairbrained idea, even for you. Even if we had some kind of plan and knew what to expect there – which we don't – the Council has not sanctioned such an action. Our best option is to go to Praadost and make contact with the Temple."
"Of course," Anakin said sullenly, not really knowing if he should be mad or glad. Either way, he recognized that Obi-Wan was right. He started to prep the flight computer, readying the ship for the jump to Praadost.
"What's the hurry?" Obi-Wan asked deceptively airily. "We could use some rest before we jump into another precarious situation. We're hardly in any danger here now, are we?"
"Not particularly," Anakin conceded reluctantly. It was highly doubtful that the Separatists could track them through hyperspace, the best the Seps could do was to calculate where they would enter realspace – and as they currently were in the middle of nowhere, the odds of the enemy finding them were low. More than likely, the Separatists were waiting for them to go either directly to the Core, or barring that, head for the nearest Republic friendly planet.
"Well then," Obi-Wan said, rising to his feet, "let's take a breather. I trust you haven't managed to eat all of the ship's provisions."
Suddenly inexplicably anxious, Anakin followed his Master to the passenger area. He watched as Obi-Wan dug out a ration pack, divided its contents into two portions, and settled on the fold-out bunk with his meal. Wordlessly, Anakin sat down on the opposite side of the cabin with his own share, the hard seat digging uncomfortably into his backside. He ate mechanically, Obi-Wan's observant gaze upon him like a smothering, itchy blanket.
When they had both finished eating in silence, Anakin braced himself for the dreaded confrontation. He knew Obi-Wan wanted to talk; through their bond, he could feel his Master's uneasy determination to bring up all of Anakin's wrongdoings. He forced himself to stay put to hear the lecture, the judgement. It wasn't that Anakin didn't want to resolve the things that had gone sour between them – he was just afraid of the possibility that there really was no way of fixing any of them.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan began cautiously. "You know there are some things we need to address, and I don't think some of them can wait any longer." He looked ill at ease; Anakin's Master had always been uncomfortable expressing deeper feelings and discussing sensitive un-Jedi issues. Still, Obi-Wan had never let that deter him if he had determined that tackling the matter head on was the best course of action.
"Yeah," Anakin managed to croak.
"First, I want to apologise to you for those words I said, when we parted on the Vigilance." Obi-Wan sounded uncommonly contrite. "They were unkind and more than that, they were untrue."
"You don't mean that," Anakin said reflexively. His heart had started to hammer wildly; how dare Obi-Wan apologise to him, it was – it was – it was intolerable!
"I do." Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "I hope you can trust me on this. I was hurt when I said those words and in spite of all that had happened, you didn't deserve that."
Anakin couldn't say anything. He could barely look at Obi-Wan.
His Master looked weary, but somehow hopeful, which was worse, as he continued with a gentler tone, "And before we go into it any further, I want you to know that I forgive –"
"Don't!" Anakin exclaimed, unaccountably panicked all of a sudden.
Deep silence, only Anakin's heart beating loudly in the soundless void of space. Then, Obi-Wan's firm voice: "Anakin – I forgive you."
"Don't! You don't mean it! You can't mean it!"
"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked, seemingly calm, although Anakin could feel he was unsettled by his Padawan's volatile, irrational reaction. "Why don't you believe me?"
"I don't know. I just…I just can't." Anakin couldn't explain it. It was what he had wanted, all that he had hoped for, but it brought him no joy. He had done nothing to deserve it, had made no amends or apologies. Obi-Wan could not truly mean it. It made no sense.
Anakin looked away, avoiding his Master's searching gaze. He could feel Obi-Wan probing him carefully through their bond, puzzled and concerned. Instinctively, Anakin withdrew deeper into himself, fortifying his shields. He didn't know why he couldn't just accept Obi-Wan's words – why he couldn't believe his dearest friend.
"Anakin." Obi-Wan's I-am-your-Master tone of voice drew Anakin's attention automatically back to him. Despite the stern tone, Obi-Wan seemed almost hesitant, although his eyes held a decisive look. "It seems we are at an impasse."
Anakin nodded miserably.
"Therefore, I suggest – if you consent – that we try the deep joint meditation." The surprising request was stiff and too formal, but Anakin could hear the sincerity, the honest willingness behind it. "That way there won't be any doubt – no secrets between us."
There was only one right response to the proposal. Only one correct answer to the hidden question, don't you trust me?
"Alright. Let's do it."
-o-
If the effort to reach the core of their bond, seek together the deep unity in the Force, is difficult or easy, they know not. It is irrelevant; all their focus is on the fusion of their selves. The danger of delving too deep and too long is acknowledged, but cast aside. This time, there is no other way but the way inward.
Time extends before them, infinite. Time spreads behind them, the unending days they have been apart. They have been parted before, longer and farther, but somehow these particular days have felt more – like they have been apart months instead of a couple of weeks. The discord between them have stretched time toward endlessness. They both feel like they are meeting each other again after years of silence. Perhaps they are. They started to slowly drift apart a long time ago.
Coming together is painful and soothing. Stunning and familiar. It is devastating, yet not. It is reassuring, perhaps. Whatever it is, it is beyond words.
In the core of them they are nestled so tightly together that there is nothing between them. They are as close as two beings can possibly be – closer still. Each of them purely what they are, what they have always meant to be. No boundaries, no masks, no lies exist between them.
There is only truth – acceptance – trust.
It is a space/feeling/state they can easily lose themselves in, never to separate. But there is a purpose. Questions that need to be asked.
Individual feelings, images, memories start to shine through the light, differentiate from the general oneness. They hurt.
Petty thoughts. Never enough for him. Rigid, unfeeling. Can't understand. Always holding me back.
Marriage vows on a sunny veranda. Thrill, secret. Something for my own. My love.
A black-red-hot rage. Killing, enjoying, dying. Lost.
A deep shame. Worthless. Weak. Better to have stayed a slave.
Will you show me?
Only a slight hesitation, then the dark dream, true and terrible. The cold desert. His mother's anguished face, her final halting words. I love…I love – Pain. Fury. Hate. The monsters scream as he plunges his saber into their hearts, slashes their faces, severs their limbs. Blue fire, cold retribution. The children cry as he ripps them from their mothers' arms and slaughters, kills. A mad, manic fire, burning him from the inside. Stabbing, cutting, killing to the beat of the Dark. Emptiness.
I understand. Sadness, regret, compassion. I understand.
Red barrier. Waiting, helpless. The grotesque leer of the monster, yellow hateful eyes. The clash of blades, no – wait for me! The end, Qui-Gon's crumbling form. Haze of anger colouring everything red, the blood rushing, beating in his ears, death death death. Every blow, every slash of blade arising from fierce hatred, the wrath of the avenger. Enemy defeated, and still no satisfaction. Qui-Gon's last words. Promise. Emptiness.
I forgive you. Will you forgive me?
The floodgates open. A rush of feelings so intense, so intertwined – shame, hope, remorse, grief, trust, regret, faith and so much more. Finally, the truth. The heart.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Master. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to tell you. I'm sorry I broke your trust. I'm sorry I'm such a burden to you.
I'm sorry about the Tuskens. I – I feel such anger towards them, but I know I did wrong. I did…terrible things. Dark things.
I'm sorry I'm not the Jedi I should be. I'm sorry that there is such a darkness in me. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. Please help me.
No hesitation, they both know the answer already.
I will help you. I will.
Always.