Chapter 87: Reeling
Ord Mantell was burning. It wasn't an understatement or an exaggeration, as Anakin explained to the Council as calmly as he could, and in this case, calm was downright frantic. Yes, he explained, he knew the planet's cloud cover looked pink, but no, the clouds weren't pink. From space, Ord Mantell looked volcanic, swirling clouds of black and red that indicated the distress on the surface. And when Anakin flew his starship below the cloud cover, he found fire. Nothing but. Not a forest fire stoked by the elevated global temperature, not a city that was burning. All of it was. The entire planet was engulfed in a torrent of flames. The cities, the jungles, the vast plains and expansive terrain, the mountains on which there was nothing to burn...all of it was on fire. Even the oceans, teaming with life, were boiling. Anakin had looked desperately for a place to land, a way to get down and help people, if there were people to help, but there was nothing but an inferno, and if there were those that were miraculously still alive, there was no way to save them.
And it wasn't just Ord Mantell. The entire Bright Jewel System was burning. Six planets and ninety seven very small moons made up the system, and everything that could burn was. True, there was nothiing in the system besides Ord Mantell, but small outposts existed on one of the other planets and at least one of the tiny moon s. They had only come here because Tarkin had a hunch. After several attacks on Separatist strongholds and droid foundries had failed to draw out Kenobi, the Admiral had believed that the Sith's focus had shifted from the Jedi, the source of his anger, to the criminal conglomerate of the Shadow Collective, the source of his grief. The Black Sun, the largest and most dangerous of the criminal syndicated that comprised the Shadow Collective, would be the first and most likely target, if Kenobi was smart, and they knew he was. Given Tarkin's suspicions about Mustafar, they headed for the Black Sun's other headquarters on Ord Mantell, and they had found fire.
Anakin didn't understand how an entire system could burn without someone being made aware of it, but Tarkin had explained that these were criminals, the lawless, the refuse of the galaxy, and with the Jedi spread thin and occupied with the war, there was nobody left to care about atrocities committed against those that many believed the galaxy could do without. Nobody would mourn the Black Sun, and when the galaxy at large discovered that they had been eradicated, if they had, in fact, been eradicated, than the ones responsible would be hailed as heroes. What Tarkin didn't understand was how an army of the size necessary to put an entire system to the torch could have moved across space with nobody noticing. Anakin didn't have an answer for that, but he had a guess. They were looking for a Separatist fleet, for the notorious ships Negotiator and Liberator, for Kenobi's stealth personal ship, the Umbra, but Anakin suspected that they weren't going to find the Separatists responsible for this, even with Kenobi involved. After all, they had a war to fight.
They may be looking for Mandalorians.
And to further complicate the matter, Jedi fighting out around Toydaria had reported seeing the Liberator flying toward Hutt Space. The entire thing was very frustrating. What had started as an attempt to flush Kenobi out had ended up as a wild chase to catch the man before he could cause anymore damage. Before, at least, they knew they were walking into a trap, but now, it felt like they were being led into one, though neither Anakin nor Tarkin could guess what the trap was, or where it would be sprung. And since the Republic could go nowhere near the Mandalore sector to investigate their suspicions about them being in league with Kenobi, Anakin turned to the one place where he knew he could get all the information he needed.
"They are absolutely involved," Padmé said firmly, her hands on her hips and her beautiful face intense, and Anakin sighed wistfully from the comfort of his bed, his legs kicking the headboard as he looked at the hologram of the woman as she paced. He had barely been gone a week, and he was already missing her terribly.
"How can you be sure?" he asked, and she shot him a glare for questioning her, but she could barely contain a smile.
"A lot has changed since you were gone. Peace in Mandalore died with Satine."
"Are they at war with each other?" Anakin asked, and the Senator's eyes narrowed.
"Worse. They're at war with anyone that gets in their way. They're united, and not just on Mandalore, they've united the entire sector under one rule."
"How bad is that?" Anakin asked, groaning s he swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, pulling his boots off and yawning. He hadn't been resting well since he left Coruscant to hunt the Sith, and chasing the ghost that was Kenobi was beginning to wear on him. "Mandalore under Satine was much larger than just the Mandalore sector. She ruled that as well."
"Yes, but right after her death, it looked like everything she built would fall apart, including the united sector." Padmé crossed her arms over her chest, her little foot tapping against the floor. "But they have a new Mand'alor now, and she united them all under a call for blood."
Anakin sat up straight, the shoulders in his back tight with tension. The creation of a Mandalorian Empire under the peaceful but ambitious Satine had made him read up on his history, and part of the reason that the fierce Mandalorians didn't own the galaxy was because they were too busy fighting with each other. They were lucky that Satine was peaceful, but if their new leader was a militant, than the galaxy could be in for some trouble.
"Whose blood?" Anakin asked.
"Anyone that gets in the way of their revenge," Padmé answered quickly. "The new Mand'alor was here in the Senate just a few days ago to state her intentions." The young woman scoffed, her finger twirling around one of the ringlets in her hair, as she did so often when she was nervous. "Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze."
"Kryze?" Anakin asked. "As in, Satine Kryze?" Padmé nodded somberly.
"Her younger sister, and she is out for the blood of everyone that had anything to do with the destruction of Mandalore." The Senator sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. "Which means every criminal syndicate in the galaxy. Before, we at least had some stability with Satine, but now, we have two wars occurring simultaneously. It's a mess."
"And the Republic can't do anything about it," Anakin muttered. "You're right, that is bad."
"So if you have a planet burning," Padmé said slowly, "and that planet just happens to be part of a criminal empire, than you had better believe it was the Mandalorians."
"How did they raise an army big enough to burn an entire system?" Anakin mused, and Padmé inhaled sharply.
"Bo-Katan militarized Mandalore," she said softly, slowly, as if reluctant to mention it. "Everyone that is able to fight joined her Death Watch. All the other systems in the sector followed suit when she got the support of the Shadow King."
"...Shadow King?" the Jedi asked, incredulous, his intelligent eyes roaming over the petite woman as she looked at the ground, her bottom lip held between her teeth, and realization dawned on him. "Obi-Wan. He's still supporting them." The Jedi cursed under his breath. "This is exactly what happened during the Mandalorian Wars! A militarized Mandalore with a Sith benefactor!" He laughed. "We're all going to die! We can't attack the Mandalorians, we'd have a two front war on our hands!"
"And the Senate basically gave Bo-Katan their support. The Jedi have been too busy with the war to keep crime in check, so the cartels have greatly expanded. They see this as a galactic police force." Padmé smiled softly when Anakin began cursing loudly and angrily pacing.
"So what you're telling me," he said forcefully, "is the Mandalorians declared open war, and they were met with applause?!"
She shrugged. "The way they see it, the Mandalorians are responding to a declaration on them. They're the innocent party in this, Anakin. Even if what they're doing now is awful, most in the Senate believe they're justified. Nobody cares about the galaxy's criminals."
Skywalker groaned and sat back on the bed, his face in his hands as he thought. "Kenobi has built himself a shield," he said softly. "We can't attack him if he's hiding behind the Mandalorians. Is that his trap? Is he trying to provoke us into attacking him? It would turn the Republic against the Jedi, that must be his goal..."
Padmé shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, averting her eyes from her lover. "Are you going to kill him?" she asked softly, and Anakin looked up at her in confusion, as if he had heard her, but didn't understand. She drew up taller, looked him in the eye. "Are you going to kill Obi-Wan?" she asked again, stronger this time.
And there it was. Anakin sucked in a sharp breath, felt the hot pull of jealousy seep into his blood. He tried to shake it away. He had no cause to be jealous of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin had everything he didn't, and as cruel as it was to think so, he was glad for it. It was just proof that the Force favored the good over the evil, favored the Jedi over the Sith, favored Anakin over Obi-Wan. He had some doubts about it before with how well Kenobi was doing against them, but these past few months had been especially difficult for his counterpart. With the rise of Maul and the fall of Satine, it seemed as though the Force itself was actively working to bring Kenobi down.
"He's a very real threat, Padmé," Anakin said gently, as if he were soothing her. "He was bad enough before when he was just toying with us and breaking the Jedi apart, but he just burned a planet, and nobody was fast enough to stop it. Nobody even knew about it. Nobody even cared. He's a mass murderer, and he needs to be put down before he does it again."
"Can't you just capture him?" she pleaded, her hands clasped together, and she turned her big, expressive brown eyes upon him, and Anakin melted. She turned him from all reason, he knew, but he couldn't help it.
"Killing him is going to be hard enough," he muttered. "Capturing him is almost an impossibility."
"Almost," she stressed, and Anakin sighed heavily. It just wasn't possible, and he began to feel his irritation rise, not with Padmé, but with Kenobi. It was his fault she was still thinking about him, his fault that she even thought of him as anything more than what he was. He was a past crush, and nothing more. Nothing had ever happened between them, nothing ever would. At least, he didn't think they were ever anything more. He bit down on his lip as images of Padmé and Kenobi flashed through his mind, their coupling rough and intense and passionate in the way it could only be with a Sith Lord. Even if they had been together, Kenobi certainly never loved her. Not like Anakin. It was fine. Everything was fine.
It would have been fine now as well, if Obi-Wan hadn't done...something to her on Mandalore way back at the start of the war, back when he was still pretending to be peaceful. He had somehow managed to drag up all her old feelings for him and intensify them, whipping her into a frenzy of lust and desire so deep that she had dragged Anakin down with her. Anakin was certain that Padmé had been cleared of the Sith's influence. After all, it had been over a year since he last saw her, even longer since she had claimed to harbor an attraction to him. But maybe...
"He isn't the man you remember, Padmé," Anakin warned, and the Senator's eyes widened for a moment in disbelief, and then quickly narrowed in anger.
"I'm not saying that he is, Anakin," she snapped. "I'm saying that he's a person that just lost his lover and his child." She looked away from the Jedi, but Skywalker could see faint color staining her cheeks. "Something awful has happened to him, and he deserves our sympathy."
"Even if he's a monster?" Anakin asked, leaning forward and laying his chin on his hand "Even if he's burning planets?"
"Especially then," she said firmly, he arms crossed, and she left no room for argument. "We make monsters by treating them like monsters."
"Uh, no." Anakin crossed his arms. He could be stubborn too. "Kenobi was a monster long before this happened to him. Long before anything really bad happened to him."
"And maybe he wouldn't be so bad if we changed how we handled him!" She drummed her long fingers against her forearm, and she sighed when she saw how tense her lover had become. "Anakin, I'm sorry. You are right, he needs to be dealt with. I'm just saying that he's at his lowest point, and if he's treated harshly or cruelly now, it will only make him worse. I think," she said, wringing her hands in front of her, "that a little kindness can go a very, very long way. He wasn't always evil, you know, and the Jedi have been nothing but hostile to him."
"He's trying to kill us."
"But look what Qui-Gon's doing!" she cried, gesturing off to her side as if the Jedi Master was standing beside her. Which he was not. Like Anakin, Qui-Gon Jinn left the Temple in search of Obi-Wan, though their missions were very, very different. "Qui-Gon had been treating him with patience and kindness!"
"And it's gotten him nowhere. Obi-Wan is still a monster, he's still a murderer, and he still wants to kill the Jedi and destroy the Republic."
"But he hasn't killed Qui-Gon yet, and he's had many opportunities to." Anakin looked at the woman for a long moment and sighed. She wasn't right, exactly, but he understood her point. It was a matter that Qui-Gon had often spoken to him about as well, and he did try to be sympathetic toward Kenobi, but in light of the burning of Ord Mantell and the Sith's obvious involvement, it was difficult to see him as anything but a killer. The truth was, he did feel sympathy for Kenobi, did understand the pain he must have been enduring, but burning planets as an expression of grief wasn't exactly forgivable. What bothered him most, however, was Padmé's eagerness to excuse his behavior when she would draw a hard line if it were anyone else.
"Do you still love him?" Anakin blurted out, biting his tongue so hard it nearly bled after he had said it. He felt foolish, embarrassed for asking such a question, and Padmé's immediate anger at the question was quelled instantly when she saw how insecure her Jedi was.
"Anakin..." she said softly, reaching out as if she could touch him through the hologram, and Anakin smiled softly when her glowing, holographic hand lit his cheek with light. "I love you. You must know that. It's been years since I've even seen Obi-Wan, I just..." She hissed in her frustration and looked away, her finger twirling in her hair. "I'm worried about you. It's obvious how dangerous he's become, and I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," he said softly, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He knew she was telling him the truth, and in an instant, all doubt left him, and before he could stop himself, he said, in a breathless gasp, "Marry me." She recoiled, her brown eyes wide with surprise, but Anakin held her gaze, even as he felt his palms begin to sweat.
"W-what?"
There was no turning back now. Skywalker took a deep breath. "We've been together for so long, Padmé, and you're what I want. I need to know, I have to know that you'll always be beside me. Please."
"...but the Jedi-"
"We've been breaking that part of the Code for a long, long time. I don't think marriage really changes things on that front." Padmé looked him over for a long while, her head swimming and her fingers tingling. It was true that this wasn't allowed of him, but so many already knew that Anakin had something of a...dalliance with the Naboo Senator, and Qui-Gon knew everything, and the respected Jedi Master seemed alright with it, so long as Anakin's duty wasn't forgotten, and the war had shown that it never was far from his mind.
Finally, she nodded. "I'd like that," she said softly, the finger in her hair twirling faster with nerves and excitement, and Anakin grinned broadly, desperately wishing that the woman were actually with him. He stood and reached out to touch the hologram instead, running the gloved finger of his cybernetic hand down her cheek, his other hand instinctively falling to the curve of her waist. He could be a Jedi, would one day be a Jedi Master, would lead as a member of the Council. He could have a wife, a child, ten children and still keep true to his duty. He would find a way.
The door hissed open, but Anakin didn't hear it, wasn't notified that anyone had entered until he heard a choked gag from behind him. "Shall I vomit now," Tarkin asked, "or should we conclude our business first?" Anakin quickly backed away from the holographic image of Padmé, his face flushed with irritation and embarrassment at what amounted to being caught with a digital woman. When flustered, Anakin resorted to taunting.
"You're just jealous, Tarkin! Don't be upset with me just because you can't get a woman!"
The Admiral rolled his eyes. "Of all the...of course I can get a woman if I wished it, General." He pointed an accusing finger at the Jedi. "But not while I'm on duty." He straightened up, adjusting his collar. "That's what shore leave is for."
Anakin scoffed. "Right, when was the last time you went on shore leave?"
"Not since the war began," the Admiral growled, striding into the room and hooking his datapad into the interface, and he bowed to Padmé as the data uploaded. "Senator. Nice to see you."
"And you as well, Admiral Tarkin," she said sweetly, and a moment later, the map of the galaxy was displayed next to her.
"I believe," Tarkin said, swiping his hand over the datapad, and the map dimmed, save for a handful of bright, glowing points, "that the attack on Ord Mantell was a tactical error on Kenobi's part. We can find him."
"Senator Amidala seems to believe that he's fighting with an army of Mandalorians," Skywalker said quickly, and Tarkin's eyes shot to the image, appraised her carefully, and than swiftly returned his attention to the datapad.
"Even better." A few more spots appeared on the map, and others disappeared, and at the end, they were left with Hutt Space highlighted, along with five bright points. "That narrows our search significantly. If he is, in fact, allied with the Mandalorians, we can assume he is waging war with the Shadow Collective, given what has happened on Mandalore, and the status of the Bright Jewel System confirms to me that this is exactly what he is doing. I don't know if he's broken from the Separatists, but at the very least, he's been diverted."
"And this is where we're likely to find him?" Anakin asked, walking in a circle around the map and hissing in frustration when he looked at the expansive region of Hutt Space. "This is a major war effort if he's going to attack the Hutts. There must be a hundred systems in Hutt Space."
"Eighty nine," Tarkin drawled, and Anakin snorted in annoyance. "But the systems themselves may be secondary. His war is with the Shadow Collective, and he will be striking them at their headquarters." He drew his finger across the bright point that signified Ord Mantell, and it dimmed. "The Black Sun may be completely eradicated. I can't guess what his next stop will be, but most likely, he will go after the Pykes on Oba Diah." He tapped the point, and it grew brighter, and he drew his finger across the map and stopped at another point. "It's also possible he will attack Kessel, seeing as how most crime syndicates keep a presence in the spice mines there."
"He's saving the Hutts for last, huh?" Anakin asked quietly, his hand rubbing his chin as he looked at the map. "That's where the bulk of what he means to do will take place. I suppose it makes sense to deprive them of their allies first."
"It does," Tarkin said, clasping his hands behind his back. "We can determine the order in which he will attack the Hutts as well, based on the locations of their strongholds." He pointed to the glowing spots in turn as he named them. "Tatooine, Makeb, Nar Shaddaa, Nal Hutta. In that order."
"Tatooine..." Anakin whispered, feeling a knot grow in his stomach that didn't stop until he thought he was going to be sick. His home world. His brother was there. "We need to stop him," Anakin said swiftly. "Now, before he gets to Tatooine. I have family there, and if he does there what he's done on Ord Mantell..."
"Anakin," Padmé said softly. "Tatooine is a desert, you can't burn sand."
"Trust me, he'll find a way to."
"General," Tarkin ventured carefully, his voice low as it always got when he was about to present Anakin with an idea that he knew would offend his Jedi sensibilities. "Kenobi is distracted from the war effort and is diverting resources away from the Separatist war machine. This may be the opportunity we have been waiting for, but since he may attack any of these places in any order..." The Admiral shrugged nonchalantly. "I say we let him."
"...what?!" Anakin and Padmé both cried in unison, and Tarkin put his hands up to placate them.
"He is targeting criminals. Cartels and crime syndicates that have gotten out of control in the duration of this war. If he wants to destroy them..." He shrugged. "I say we let him. They must be swept up and dealt with when the war is over anyway, and the Republic will not be so eager to launch another campaign, and the Jedi numbers have dwindled considerably. Mandalore is strong now, and Kenobi is motivating them. Let him clean up the garbage."
"There are innocent people on those planets, Tarkin!" Anakin shouted, pointing at the map. They have had debates and discussions like this often. It was no secret that Tarkin believed the Jedi Code prevented them from winning the war, and many times, Anakin agreed. He drew the line at engulfing entire planets, entire systems, in flames, though.
"Acceptable losses," he said coldly. "And no self-respecting citizen lives on planets owned by crime lords."
"My brother is on Tatooine!" Tarkin sniffled and drew up to his full height.
"You wish to defend your home world. I understand. If you like, we can set our trap for Kenobi over Tatooine. We don't know for certain where he is going first regardless. Quite frankly, the more planets he destroys, the higher our chances become at finding him at the site of his next attack."
"We are not letting planets burn because of statistics!" Anakin shouted, his tone making it clear that the word was final.
"...very well." The Admiral sighed. "Your plan of attack, then?"
Anakin looked at the map carefully, stroking his chin as he tried to calm his racing heart, but his eyes kept drifting to Tatooine. "What do you suppose our odds of capturing him are, Tarkin?" the Jedi asked, and the Admiral tapped his high cheekbone with a long, thin finger.
"Low," he said tersely. "Very low. But the intent of a trap is to do exactly that. I want to trap him, not kill him, if possible. He's too valuable as a source of information, and given what has been said about his current status, I doubt he will be difficult to break. I understand he is broken already."
Anakin looked at Padmé out of the corner of his eye and watched her bow her head, her lips drawn in a thin line as she struggled with hearing such plain, frank cruelty spoken about a man she once loved, once respected. "Oba Diah," Anakin said softly. "Kessel. Makeb. Tatooine. Those are the targets outside of Hutt Space. I'll contact the Council, and we'll get our best to guard each one, keep a lookout over the area. Every one of those is in close enough range to get to before he can burn it all down. We'll station ourselves over Tatooine. It's close enough to our base on Geonosis to give us the excuse to be there."
Tarkin saluted, and said not a word as he left the room. Anakin looked over the map, his heart heavy, and he couldn't help but feel like Kenobi had planned all of this, that burning a system was simply his way of drawing attention away from his true goal. He looked at Padmé, but said nothing, a worried smile on both their lips as they shared in each other's apprehension.
It took three days before they could leave Raxus. Two days of hiding in sewers and ditches, of surviving in a hostile land where they were being actively hunted by droids that knew their bioscans, but Ahsoka Tano and Asajj Ventress were trained in survival, had become adapt at it, experts, masters in the field. Both women were seriously injured, Ahsoka more than Ventress, and while she was no doctor, the Nightsister was certain that the labored wheezing, the gasps of pain with every step, was a fair indication that young Tano had several broken ribs. Even still, they hid close to the palace, keeping a careful watch for any opportunity they could get to rush inside and rescue Vos, but the opportunity never came. Before dawn on their first day of hiding, after being cast down from the heights of the uppermost balcony, Ventress heard the familiar purr of sophisticated engines, and they looked up in time to see the Umbra flying toward the lightening horizon. Kenobi was gone, and with him, Quinlan. There was no doubt about that.
The next two days blended into a whirl of dark, dank hiding places, quick, restless naps while the other kept watch, the smooth, cool feel of stolen bacta on the worst of their injuries, and the clanging of droids as they scoured the city for the would be assassins. Ventress had committed herself to caring for Quinlan's distressed Padawan, the young girl stubborn and insistent, and she had to convince the Togruta more than once that going back to the palace to check for her Master - just in case! - was a terrible idea. They wouldn't find him. Not here, not on Raxus. Several times, they were nearly caught by Grievous and his MagnaGuard, but they always managed to slip away just in time, duck into a new hiding place, blend in with a different throng of people as they went about their daily lives in the beautiful, thriving capital of the Confederacy. It almost felt as though there wasn't a war going on. Eventually, they managed to leave the city, dirty and limping and in bad need of medical attention and food, and with their goal in sight, they made one last push, a mad dash for the ship they arrived in, stet down in a well concealed cove near one of Raxus' many oceans.
There was a fear for a moment that the ship would be gone, but they found her just where they left her, Ventress' Banshee, ready to carry them to safely. They boarded and were off as quickly as they were able, fraught with tension as they left the planet and made the jump to hyperspace. The coordinates that Ventress frantically punched in weren't random, but it was close. They were headed for the Core Worlds, that's all she knew, far, far away from Raxus and the Confederacy. After that, when space blended into the blue and white blur of the safety of hyperspace, the woman sat in silence, Ventress simply staring out the forward viewport, and Ahsoka gripping the lightsaber that she had recovered from the palace grounds after her fall. It was her Master's, and he was going to need it back when they saved him.
As the minutes turned to hours, Ventress slowly became aware of his filthy they were, how badly they reeked, how three days of living in sewers and worse had left them fatigued, but the concern and the stress that they were allowed to feel in their safety left them too wired to sleep. She had left her seat, insisted that Ahsoka bathe first, and when the girl stubbornly refused to move, or even acknowledge that she had been spoken to, Ventress grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her into the small shower situated between the two cabins on the ship. The Togruta was stripped and thrown under the water with no complaint, the dark stain of bruises and deep gouges left by Grievous' clawed grasp was clear upon her body as the dirt was washed away. Ventress roughly aided in scrubbing the girl clean of filth before she pulled her out, threw a towel at her, and climbed in herself to be rid of the grime.
Ventress had plenty of her own clothes, as it was her ship, but since Ahsoka didn't have an invitation, she had no need to divest herself of her regular clothing as Vos and Ventress were forced to do, exchanging Jedi robes and tight, light armor for formalwear for the occasion. Which, of course, meant that Ahsoka didn't have a change of clothing. Ventress growled in irritation as she tried to fit the young Togruta into some of the tight, black leather that she wore, and while Ahsoka was thin enough for it, her limbs were far shorter, and it fit her poorly. Still, she wore it, overlaying Quinlan's robe over her shoulders, which was almost comically large, and cinching it with her Master's belt that she had to tie instead of buckle. The Padawan was left looking disheveled and awkward, and Ventress would have been laughing at the girl in any other circumstance but this one. Instead, she just felt heartache, the Padawan's and her own, for the lost Quinlan.
"Is he dead?" Ventress looked at the girl, sitting on the edge of Asajj's bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, the long robes brushing the tops of her bare feet. For a moment, Ventress wasn't sure if she had simply been hearing things, but the girl asked again, softer than before in a voice straining with held back tears, "Is he dead?"
"He could be," Ventress whispered, wishing that she could give the girl more comfort than that, wishing that she could give herself more comfort. "It didn't look like Obi-Wan would kill him. If he was going to, Vos would have died where he stood, but I didn't see Kenobi draw his lightsaber."
Ahsoka didn't look up from staring intently at the ground. "We saw his ship leave."
"Yes."
"And you think Master Quinlan was on it."
Ventress nodded. "I do."
"Where would he take him?" Ventress sucked in a sharp breath and held it, looked the girl over, felt her heart aching, and knew that Ventress felt the same way in the Force. She had been so reluctant to share anything about Obi-Wan with the Jedi, but that was before Kenobi had gotten his hands on Quinlan. Her friend. Her lover. For a long, long time, Kenobi had spoken about Vos, reveled in the idea of him falling, detailed how it would be to have his best friend join him in darkness, and Ventress knew he was safe. Obi-Wan wouldn't kill Quinlan Vos, and Quinlan was too strong to break. The Padawan hadn't said it directly, but Ventress picked up on her intention through her questions. She was already planning a way to save her Master from the Sith Lord that held him. Ventress could give up her information for that.
"There are only two places he would have taken him," she said softly. "Serenno or Mustafar."
This time, Ahsoka looked up, her big, blue eyes wet with unshed tears, but there was confusion on her face as she struggled to understand, not just what Ventress had said, but everything that had transpired. "Mustafar?" she muttered, shaking her head slightly. "What's on Mustafar?"
"Lava," Ventress said quickly. "And Obi-Wan's palace." Ahsoka's bright blue eyes flashed with determination, and Ventress quickly regretted saying anything. "There is no escape from Mustafar, Tano. None. I've been there, and it's a death trap."
"If Master Quinlan's there-"
"He absolutely will be," Asajj hissed. "There's no good way to get into Mustafar, and getting out is even worse. But," she said slowly, "I'm not certain that he will only be kept there. If we can find him when he's on Serenno, if he's on Serenno..." She took a deep breath, a plan beginning to form in her mind even as she stood there. "If he's on Serenno, I can get him out."
"You can?" the Padawan asked, hopeful, and Ventress nodded.
"I lived there for many years, I know every hallway, every corridor, every entrance and exit, the schedules of everything. Launching an attack on Dooku's home is madness, but-"
"But it's worth it for him." Ahsoka finished, jumping to her feet, her exhaustion forgotten in her excitement. "We have to go! We have to go now!"
"Tano, listen to yourself," Ventress sighed as she rolled her eyes, but the girl didn't seem to hear her.
"The longer he is with Kenobi, the more likely he will be lost to us, right?" The color draining from Ventress' face was all she needed for an answer. "What, do you think I'm an idiot?" the Togruta sneered. "I've seen what Kenobi's done to him, heard what he's said. I've felt the darkness inside him, I've seen him murder a man. I know it takes more than just that to be a Sith, but you can't tell me that's not the Dark Side. Even you have been training him to use it!" The Padawan was shouting, her tone accusatory. She didn't mean to, but each word she spoke filled her with more anger. Tano turned from Ventress, took a deep breath to calm herself, and twisted Vos' lightsaber in her hands. "Is the Dark Side stronger?" she asked softly, and Ventress didn't know how to respond.
After a long silence, Asajj looking down at the floor and feeling the burning of the Padawan's eyes on her, she slowly nodded. "Stronger, perhaps. Yes. It's more ruthless, in any case, and that brutality lends itself to power, if one had the courage to take it."
They were in over their heads. With a petulant pout on her lips, Ahsoka marched out of the room, the Nightsister close on her heals, and strode into the cockpit, pulling back the lever to disengage the hyperdrive, and before Ventress could protest, both women were thrown forward as they reverted to real space, the stars resuming their pinpoint positions in the sky. A vicious snarl was on Ventress' face, and before she could say anything, Ahsoka raised her hands up in the air and quickly shouted, "We need help, we need the Jedi!"
"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" the Nightsister snarled, dragging the girl up by her oversized robes and throwing her into the copilot's seat. "Kenobi has Vos, and he's not going to let anyone take what he thinks belongs to him. What Jedi can beat him, hmm?"
"I know a few," the Togruta said swiftly, and when Ventress shot her a disbelieving look, she counted off on her fingers. "Master Yoda. Qui-Gon Jinn. Anakin Skywalker. He's a Council member! They won't just leave him!"
"We need someone as brutal and vicious as Kenobi," Ventress growled. "We need bounty hunters, and we need the best."
"We need both," the Togruta hissed. "I know this is going to be difficult, but we have to save Master Quinlan, and bounty hunters aren't going to cut it. We need Jedi. We need to create a diversion to draw Kenobi and Dooku and whoever else away while we look for my Master!" Ventress said nothing, but she reached over and put in new coordinates, engaged the hyperdrive, and a moment later, the ship was in hyperspace for the quick jump to Coruscant.
"Alright," Ventress said softly. "Do you have a plan?"
"W-well..." she said sheepishly, running her hand over the cones of her montrails. "You said you knew the palace, right? I thought-" Ventress howled in frustration and ran her hands over her face, cursing under her breath.
"A distraction..." Ventress' finger circled the nodes and switches that lined the control console. She took a deep breath. "If we plan it just right, if we have everything in order, we can time this in a way that will put the least amount of people on Serenno. Dooku will be there. Kenobi will be there. But we can make sure Grievous isn't. We can even make sure that new apprentice isn't."
"Where will Master Quinlan be?" Ahsoka asked, bouncing in her seat.
"The dungeons," she said softly, shivering as she did. She couldn't imagine Quinlan there. "They will need to break him, and I don't think they can. Quinlan is...inclined toward the Dark Side, but not toward the Sith. I hope..." Ventress knew the Sith couldn't break Vos, but that wasn't the point. They wouldn't need to break him. She had seen what Obi-Wan did to Jedi, knew how strong his sway was, and Vos had been worked on for a long time. She only hoped that his strength of will was enough to resist his old friend.
"So, we sneak in...somehow," Ahsoka said softly. "We have a team create a diversion while we rescue Master Quinlan, and then we get out of there as fast as we can."
"It's better than no plan at all..." Ventress grumbled as the ship reverted to real space, the city planet of Coruscant blinking into existence before them. She set their course for the Jedi Temple and leaned back in the seat, frowning as the ship quickly entered Coruscant's atmosphere. "Will the Jedi help us?"
Ahsoka nodded. "I think so. If not for my Master..." She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She didn't know why she suddenly doubted the Council, but she did. It was the Council, after all, that had failed to stop the Sithkiller from becoming Sith, and now, she had a sudden, sinking feeling that they may fail in the same thing once again. "If not for my Master," she started again, "than they will do it for a chance at Kenobi."
They didn't say another word as the Banshee was guided down into one of the hangars of the Jedi Temple, the ship given special clearance before they left for the disastrous mission to Raxus, and they landed without incident. When they got out of the ship, they were greeted with chaos. Everywhere, the Jedi were rushing about, Knights and Masters yelling and frantic and jumping into their starships. It took a few minutes for the women to piece together what had happened, but when they did, they were back in the Banshee and following the other ships out toward the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center, a high-security prison that housed the Republic's most dangerous criminals.
Someone had broken in, and in the chaos that ensued, Wat Tambor and Poggle the Lesser had escaped.