AN: Holy shit you guys. Here it is. All we've got left is the epilogue, and this thing is DONE. I honestly can't believe it. Extra super long, for your reading pleasure. Please, do enjoy. This one was rough to write.
Chapter 116: The Fires of Mustafar
The fortress palace of Mustafar, dangerous and foreboding, was easy to get to with the right access codes. The shields lowered for the Republic, now Imperial shuttle, and it sped for the landing bay, setting down gently within the exposed hangar, and with a hiss of the boarding ramp, Darth Vader stalked from the ship. His footsteps echoed throughout the room, his ship the only other docked there, to his displeasure. He had hoped to find the Umbra, Kenobi's personal ship, a sleek vessel of red and black that was as fast as it was dangerous, and as a pilot, Vader was eager to get his hands on it. Just another of the many things that he would steal from Kenobi before he killed him.
The Jedi were dead. He could feel it in the Force through the triumphant howls of the Dark Side, could feel it in his blood as power rushed through him, could feel his strength grow, his connection with darkness deepen with each Jedi he slew. He hadn't known it could be so intoxicating, so pleasurable to embrace the full power of the Force, to allow the Dark Side in and let it rage through him, to let his thoughts and mind be consumed with lust for the power that murder and rage brought. It was no wonder that Yoda had always said that there is no returning from the Dark Side. It felt good, a pleasure long denied him finally released, a drug said by the Jedi to be poison to warn children away from taking it, but what did the Jedi know? The Jedi were dead. Even Master Yoda had to have perished on whatever world he was fighting on, struck down by betrayal, as was fitting for the traitorous Jedi.
He had seen Sidious, his Master, as he was preparing to address the Senate and reveal the Jedi's treachery and declare the Republic victory in the war. He didn't know anything else, because nothing else mattered but Padmé and Obi-Wan, and finally, finally, Sidious had given him permission to go to Mustafar to save his little wife from that viper. His Master had instructed him briefly on how best to defeat the rival apprentice, explained that Lumis was, as Vader well knew, a master of mental manipulation, and he was not to be listened to, even for a moment. Insanity burned in his mind like a fever, a thing that he ferociously struggled with, and while madness made him powerful, it also made him wild and unbalanced, and this was how Vader would defeat him. By forcing the man to lose a grip on his fragile sanity by destroying what he had left. Which was why Sidious had sent him right into his home.
Of course, it wasn't all friendly advice, wasn't all a reminder that Vader was, and always had been, a greater presence in the Force than Lumis, possessed a greater potential than the other Sith Lord. He had also reminded him that Lumis was a refined, elegant tool, a knife with a fine edge that cut so thin, so deep, that the wound wasn't visible until it was too late, that blood didn't appear until the fatal artery was nicked, while Vader was a rough and jagged vibroblade, one that ripped and tore through flesh and bone with ease, but made a terrible mess in the process. Before, Sidious had sneered about the mistake he had made, the evidence that he had left behind that allowed his crimes to be exposed, the Sith Master to be revealed, and forced all his careful plans to be executed prematurely. Lumis would never be so careless, and the scolding had rankled Vader and only made his deep hatred for Obi-Wan grow.
Which was why, when he had stormed the Jedi Temple and saw Ahsoka Tano, all he saw was the loose end he had left behind, the mistake that he would soon correct, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. He deployed the entire 501st Legion to seek out and destroy the girl, no matter the cost, and when she had disappeared into the streets of Coruscant, he had commanded the Coruscanti Guard to hunt her down and kill her. Within moments, thousands of clones were searching for a single girl, a lone Jedi lost and alone on a planet with no friends, no plan, no hope, and when one of the clone officers delivered a lightsaber to Darth Vader, he recognized the hilt instantly, felt recognition in the green thrum of the blade. Ahsoka. Her lightsaber, the weapon delivered to the officer by the soldiers that had killed her and dropped the body down one of the large pits leading deep to the lower levels of the planet.
Hers wasn't the only death that made him feel the rush of pleasure, the euphoric pulsing of power within him as it grew far, far beyond anything he had ever felt. He felt like how the spice addicts in the lower levels of the city looked, hazy and dependent as his body craved more power, greater power as he drank in the Force until he could take no more, but he kept going, kept drinking, the walls of the dam shattering under the pressure as it tried to hold him back. He was free, the wrath of the Force running away with him, wild and uncontrolled and fueled by death and darkness. In this, his Master had given him another advantage over Lumis. Poor Kenobi had only gone to kill nine that night, while Vader had killed hundreds, each death granting more power, each life stolen rising him higher. He was...invincible. There would be no stopping him, not now, and not ever.
The Dark Side on Mustafar was thick, hung heavy in the air like the viscous lava that flowed in the rivers around the palace, and Vader could feel his head swimming as his blood saturated with the Force, wild and untamed, it's smooth, seductive voice licking at his ears and echoing in his mind, demanding things of him that he longed, ached to give it. He walked into the darkened halls of the palace, standing still to hear something, anything other than the beating of his own heart and the roar of the Dark Side, but there was nothing. All he could sense were the clouds of darkness that were drawn to him, a nexus in the Force like a whirlpool that drew in all that came within reach. He was power, and nothing but, and there was no need for sight when nothing could harm him.
A deafening roar split the air as he entered another of the winding corridors of the palace's lower levels, and he quickly drew his lightsaber, the blue blade lighting the hallway and reflecting off the large, black eyes of a rancor. Kenobi's pet. Vader grinned in sinister delight. This was why his Master had sent him to Obi-Wan's home, his terrifying holdout. This would be where he kept everything he held dear, everything he treasured, everything the covetous Sith kept as his own. Padmé would be here. Padmé was here. He could feel it. And it was said that Kenobi forged a connection with this beast, shared a link through the Force with it, a vile mockery of the Jedi's training bond that existed between Master and Padawan. Severing that connection would no doubt cause the Sith a great deal of pain, enough to throw off his focus, enough to kill him.
The beast reared up and roared once again, and Vader remembered the battle aboard the ship Skywalker, the one that Kenobi had so mockingly named, the ship where Master Ki-Adi-Mundi met his gruesome end in the hands of a rancor, the beasts eyes swirling red and yellow as the Sith Lord sat within its mind and controlled its actions. On that day, he had thought he would put an end to Obi-Wan Kenobi, had felt it in the Force that it was the day the fallen Jedi would die. He hadn't been wrong, though the feeling ended up being more metaphorical than he had hoped. That was the day Satine died, the day mad Darth Lumis rose from the ashes of Mandalore. Today, the Force was only filled with screams, howling at the extinguished light, roaring in pain as the Jedi died, screaming in triumph as darkness finally came after a thousand years of absence, Padmé's screams, Padmé's screams...
If there was anything to be seen, Darth Vader didn't see it. All he saw was the enemy before him, the wild and vicious rancor as it snarled and barked in warning, and through the haze of his drunken stupor, he felt something was...wrong, something was off about the rancor before him. It was too small, too timid to be Kenobi's wrathful beast, its horns too small, it's skin more gray than blinding white. This was the other one. Vader frowned. It wasn't ideal, but killing this one would accomplish the same purpose, though on a smaller scale. It didn't matter. He'd find the other one, the big one, Kenobi's mount, and kill that one too. He brought past battles to the forefront of his mind and remembered how Ki-Adi-Mundi killed the rancor before he had been killed as well, and with a snarl of rage, Vader jumped up into the air, his lightsaber in hand as he aimed to land upon the beast's back, only to be batted away in midair by the rancor's fearsome claws.
Vader flipped in the air, catching himself as he flipped and stopped his wild rocketing through the air, and with a ferocious swell of power that came from fury and hatred, he sent the Force exploding outwards in a rush that ripped the air, the shockwaves nearly visible, shimmering in the darkness. The rancor was blown back, staggered by the power as it struck him, and Vader hit the wall feet first, crouched upon it, and pushed off, his lightsaber extended before him as he raced toward the snarling beast.
Glowing plasma struck first, biting into the side of the beast's neck, and the creature howled with pain and rage, rearing up in an attempt to dislodge the source of the sudden, stinging wound, but Vader twisted in the air, following the movements of the rancor, and landed upon its head. With a deep breath, he pressed his weight into the blade with strength fueled by the Dark Side, gray skin hissing and smoking as the lightsaber pressed through hide thick as armor, and the beast screamed in pain, bucking wildly to shake the man off, but Vader held himself still, anchoring himself to the creature through the blade that dug deep within its neck.
Suddenly, the thrashing became less violent as the life was sapped out of the beast, and with a groan that reverberated off the walls of the hallway, the rancor dropped to the ground, claws feebly scratching at the floor, and big, black eyes closed as it shuddered, the last of life leaving its body. Vader kept the weapon lodged in its neck, panting hard as the thrill of death washed over him, and he took the feeling within himself and embraced it. The bigger one would be harder to kill, but it would fall just the same. When the euphoric rush slowed to a mere trickle, Vader switched off his lightsaber and slid off the creature, entering the elevator at the end of the hall that the beast had been set to guard, and the doors closed, the platform rising to bring him to the main expanse of the palace.
It was...magnificent. Deep, rich black stone walls inlaid with golden carvings reflected the glow of the lava through long windows that looked out over the roiling, molten rivers. Everything within bespoke of elegance and sophistication and a taste for the grandiose that they Jedi were prohibited from, and at once, Vader felt at home here. It was dark, sinister and foreboding, the Force sitting heavy and thick and oppressive in the air, a shroud that blinded him to what lay just beyond as it intoxicated him. The eerie glow of lava felt dangerous just as it felt beautiful, just like the Dark Side itself, and Vader wanted to have it, needed to have it, and when he killed Obi-Wan, this palace would be his.
He could hear her before he felt the sharp pang of her presence break through the veil of the Force. He always felt her within him, burning and consuming his thoughts, but now, when he could hear her voice, the ache and the yearning for his wife erupted into pain and desperation, his lust for revenge forgotten as he rushed the winding halls of the palace's vast expanse. If only he could find her, if only he could come to her side, then he knew he could save her, render his vision merely a nightmare, a thing to be forgotten in the dark upon waking. She was...angry. Arguing with something or someone, and he ran to follow her voice, like music to his ears even in its anger, and slowly, he began to find his way, her voice growing louder and louder until he threw open the doors to a large, spacious livingroom and saw her. Padmé, his lovely wife, so large with her child that Anakin thought she might break upon the slightest contact. She hadn't seen him, so involved was she in her fierce diatribe, two women standing beside her and politely listening as the furious Senator wildly gesticulated with a datapad in hand. Vader recognized them both. Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze and Jedi Master Shaak Ti. Vader felt relief leave him as his blood began to boil.
"Is this how democracy ends?" she snapped, thrusting the datapad at the Mandalorian. "Is this how liberty dies? With thunderous applause," she scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. "And the Jedi are the villains here? How can they all not see through this, how can nobody see!"
"It's not all bad," Bo-Katan said softly. "Mandalore rejoiced when my sister sized absolute power, and we thrived under her rule."
"An Empire," Vader said, deep and smooth and in a voice not his own, and the three women quickly turned to face the newcomer, the Mandalorian quickly drawing and pointing twin blasters at a man she knew was far too dangerous to engage. "A Mandalorian Empire of traitors and murders, united by a Sith Lord and his slut." He drew his lightsaber and ignited it, the blue blade's thrum cold and menacing as the blade pointed toward the combative woman. "And now, their new leader is complicit in kidnaping, aiding that filth in crimes against the Republic, just like the Jedi Order."
"Anakin, stop this!" Padmé pleaded, gasping in shock when her husband's eyes fell on her, cold and raw and sickly yellow, and she shook in revulsion when the man smiled at her.
"Don't worry, Padmé," Vader said softly. "I'm going to save you. After I kill these traitors, we can go home..."
Bo-Katan didn't wait to listen to another word out of Anakin Skywalker's mouth before she started shooting. She had made a promise to Obi-Wan, had sworn to protect Padmé and the child she carried while he was out ending the war, doing the bidding of his Master so that one day, he could slay him and finally be free. They had failed Satine and her child, and Bo-Katan wasn't about to fail another woman that Obi-Wan had brought under his protection. The blue lightsaber blazed, moving at blinding speeds as Skywalker effortlessly blocked every shot fired, deflecting the plasma rounds harmlessly away until the blade suddenly changed angles, and the Mandalorian's fired shots came straight back at her.
Blue flashed before Bo-Katan's eyes as Shaak Ti dashed before her, a lightsaber in hand as she batted back the redirected shots that would have certainly struck the woman. "Stop shooting," the Jedi calmly commanded. "You'll only get yourself killed. Protect the Senator." The Togruta didn't wait to hear the Mandalorian's response, her bare feet pushing off the warm, black stone of the ground and rushing to engage Skywalker, the young man looking at her with a mix of shock and amusement as he effortlessly parried every strike she brought down upon him.
"Master Shaak Ti," Vader growled, more bemused than angry. "I hear you've been made a slave."
"I see you have as well," the Jedi bit back, and the amusement was gone, replaced by bitter rage. "I have felt the death of the Jedi!" she snapped, her blade moving faster, suddenly violent, and Skywalker had to step back, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the woman. "I have felt their execution, I have heard your Emperor condemn us all to death!"
"As you deserve!" Vader shouted, circling his blade around hers and quickly pressing forward into a ferocious offense, the blinding speed of the switch forcing the Togruta to fall back into the defensive Soresu that had characterized her style as a Jedi Master. "You sit here in wanton excess in service to a Sith Lord! You are a traitor to the Republic, a traitor to all that the Jedi stood for!"
"Don't you dare lecture me when you stand in service to the Sith yourself!"
Her words bit deeper than he thought they could, and for a moment, there was pain deep within him, a small cry of remorse and shame and regret for all he had done, all he had been made to do. No sooner than it was felt, the Dark Side took that pain and made it into hatred and anger toward the Jedi that stood before him. She didn't understand. He didn't serve the Sith. Everything he did, everything, was for Padmé, for the Republic, for the Jedi. It wasn't his fault the Jedi were twisted and corrupted by the Sith, condemning themselves to death when they stood against the Republic. It wasn't his fault that the Republic needed to be held together, no matter the cost, and if that meant slaying the traitorous Jedi, so be it. It wasn't his fault that Padmé would die at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi, not his fault that the Jedi actively prevented him from saving her, did everything they could to keep her from him when he needed her. She was a Jedi that lived to serve Obi-Wan, so how could she understand?
But Sidious understood. Sidious understood the danger of his wayward apprentice, had given Vader not only the chance to kill him, but gave him to opportunities to destroy Kenobi's allies to ensure his victory. He wasn't serving the Sith Master, he was using him. When Kenobi was dead, when Padmé was safe, Sidious would have nothing more to offer him. Except for power. Except for glory. Except for fulfilling his destiny as the most powerful Force user ever. If only he just stayed to learn, let the Sith Master help him reach his potential, helped him grow even more powerful, submitted to his will so...
With a vicious snarl, his emotions churning with hatred and contempt and confusion, he pushed back with the Force, the Togruta sliding backwards, and Vader charged at her with all his speed, form and technique forgotten as the sheer force of his stab keeping the Jedi from stopping the blade's forward momentum. The air within the Jedi ran searing hot as blue, burning plasma entered her lungs, the lightsaber buried to the hilt within her chest, and with a weak whimper, Shaak Ti fell dead at Vader's feet.
There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide where Skywalker wouldn't find them, and even if it was possible, Bo-Katan didn't think the heavily pregnant woman could run if she tried. She placed herself between the Senator and the rogue Jedi, her blasters pointed threateningly at him, though she did not fire. She knew it was pointless, and acting rashly now would only get her killed. Simply putting herself in his path may get her killed as well, but she had to do something. She was a child of Mandalore, and she did not fear death. Her sister was waiting for her, when her day came, but Bo-Katan vowed that today was not that day. No more death, Kenobi had said before he left for Raxus with a tied up Cody. No more loses. They had failed in that, but at least they could limit the damage.
With a sneer of contempt, Vader swept his hand across the air, and the Mandalorian standing in his way went flying across the room, fast and high in the air until she was stopped by the wall, the unyielding stone cracking with the impact of her body, and Bo-Katan fell to the ground, a hard, sickening thud echoing in the room as she struck the floor and lay still. Padmé shrieked in dismay as she began to run to the best of her ability toward the fallen woman who had stayed by her side as her protector for the past few weeks, and she jolted to a stop when a strong, cybernetic hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back to fall against her husband's tall, strong body.
She struggled in his grasp for only a moment, to Vader's immense satisfaction, stilling when her back was pressed flush against him and his arms grasped her around her chest. She convulsed violently for a moment, gasping almost as if in pain when his left hand drifted over her swollen stomach, and through her, he could feel the child kicking and moving and squirming, a bold assertion of the life that lay within her, and for just a moment he felt warmth stir in his chest. This was his child. His. All tests had said so, all genetic panels had confirmed it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Padmé herself even insisted, fervently and several times. Soon, this child would be born, within a month or less, and Anakin would be a father, his child growing up in a world where its parents could live openly without censure from the Jedi, could be raised in a world without the vile influence of Kenobi. His child. His! But maybe...
Upon his wife's neck was a dark, red mark, the kind so often left by lovers in the heat of the moment, and Vader burned. This was recent, and it was a sickening reminder that Kenobi had his wife held captive here for months, had exerted his will over her, had rendered her submissive and willing beneath him, had given him everything that should have only been reserved for him, and the suspicion, the doubt resurfaced. His child could have easily been Obi-Wan's, planted within Padmé to be concealed and hidden and raised by his enemy, a kryat dragon in the midst of banthas to be loved and cared for only to turn feral and vicious when the time was right. A Sithspawn to be raised by the enemy of its father, a plant that would grow to destroy him.
Vader wouldn't allow it. Kenobi's touch was black and poisonous, and even though this was his child, the fact that it could have been Kenobi's enraged him, and worse, his child, the child that he and Padmé created out of love may be twisted and corrupted simply by being near the Sith, by having been touched by the culmination of his lust within his captive wife. When the child was born, he would know for sure if it was worth saving. He looked down at the woman in his arms, his hand grasping her chin and making her look up at him. She looked...stricken. Terrified.
It made him love her even more.
"Anakin..." she asked, her voice thin and trembling. "What have you done?"
"I've made us safe," he said smoothly, drawing her closer to him and breathing in the fragrance of her hair. It wasn't like before. She smelled like Kenobi.
"Safe?" she cried, wiggling in his grasp and she finally managed to tear herself from her husband's arms. "How is this safe?! The end of the Republic, Anakin, the end of the Jedi?!" Yellow eyes drifted as Anakin followed his wife's arm to where she was pointing at the dead Togruta on the ground. "This is murder! Did you kill the others too? Tell em you didn't do this, tell me you didn't betray your family!"
"You are my family," Vader snarled, stepping closer to the girl, but she took a step back, a look of horror on her face when he didn't deny the accusation. "You and our baby, everything I have done, I have done for you. To keep you safe." He laughed softly as he drew closer to her, and Padmé stopped trying to retreat. She couldn't outrun him. All she could do was deal with the beast that had been her husband, the yellow of his eyes glowing with murder and power, wild and crazed and out of control, so unlike the kind blue he once possessed.
"What Palpatine is doing is madness!" she hissed, trying against all hope that she could get him to see reason. "This is tyranny, Anakin, nobody can be safe in a regime that would murder Jedi! Anakin, if Palpatine is killing Jedi as traitors, then you need to run and hide, or he's going to get you too! That isn't safety, not for a family, not for us!"
"No, no, you don't understand!" Vader growled, his irritation slowly growing. "I'm not a Jedi anymore! There aren't anymore Jedi left! It's just me. Don't you see what that means? We don't need to hide anymore, there is no more need for secrets! The war is over. I ended it."
"You and Palpatine," Padmé spat, but Vader just smiled. "He killed the Republic, and you helped him!"
"It needed to die." Padmé stepped back and shook her head, disbelief on her face and her chest convulsing with pain.
"This isn't safety," she muttered, steel coming to her eyes. "There's no safety for me because you're here."
And still, Vader smiled. "You won't think that when I've freed you, Padmé. I did all this for you. The Jedi would keep me from you, but Palpatine did everything he could to bring me here to you, gave me the power I need to free you, and soon..." He chuckled softly, reaching out to take her hands. She let him. She had no choice. "Soon, Obi-Wan Kenobi will be dead, and you and I can finally be together..."
"Oh, Skywalker, you delusional fool, you have really outdone yourself." Vader whipped around to look at the open door and he hissed in rage, grabbing hold of Padmé's wrist so hard with his mechanical hand that she winced, his other hand grasping her hip to keep her by him as she struggled.
"Kenobi," Vader growled dangerously, focusing on the man as he slowly entered the room, calm and poised and relaxed, a clone by his side with his blaster raised and trained on the intruder.
"Kenobi..." the Sith Lord scoffed, gold eyes running over Skywalker as he roughly moved Padmé behind him, the woman gasping and struggling to pry the mechanical grasp off her wrist to no avail. "Come now, let's put aside this pretense and address each other by our real names."
He glowered, his teeth grinding together so hard he thought his jaw may crack. "Lumis."
He inclined his head slightly. "And what does our Master call you?"
A cocky, arrogant smirk came to Skywalker's lips, and his chest swelled with pride as he drew up to his considerable height. "Darth Vader," he drawled, Padmé's gasps going unnoticed as her heart began racing with terror.
There was only one reason this would happen, only one thing this had all meant. Kenobi made it back to Mustafar before Sidious had even finished with the swarm of press that surrounded him upon his ascension to Emperor, and yet, his personal shuttle, using the Sith Master's access codes, was in the hangar bay. The sense of unease he had been feeling since the execution of Order 66 erupted, the Dark Side taking him in its grasp and holding him close, snarling protectively as Obi-Wan and Cody quickly made their way through the palace and to the rancor that lay dead in the hallway. Kenobi had only taken a moment to mourn the beast, his hand on the cold skin of its mighty head and drinking deep of the grief he felt, taking it within him and allowing the feeling to add to the ball of cold rage within him.
He didn't think it was possible. Never had he imagined that Sidious would abandon him for a child, a slab of rough, coarse stone that had yet to be carved into a masterpiece. He had assumed that Sidious would try to take them both, his greedy hands grasping both vergences' in the Force to do with as he pleased. And he had the opportunity to, now that Skywalker had become Darth Vader. All he had to do was Keep Vader by his side on Coruscant, and when he was through, come together with his new apprentice to introduce him to Lumis, the Master's presence surely enough to stop them from killing each other, at least temporarily. He could have had them both.
But he had sent Skywalker here alone, and the meaning was not lost on Obi-Wan. This was a test. A challenge, an obstacle to be overcome, a trial to be passed. One apprentice against another, fighting for the coveted place by Darth Sidious' side. But the test wasn't for Darth Lumis. This test was for Vader. There would be no other reason to make Skywalker a Sith Lord unless he intended to keep him, and there was no reason to send Vader to Mustafar if Kenobi's death weren't the objective. Like Qui-Gon Jinn before him, Darth Sidious had cast away Lumis for a younger, greater talent. For Skywalker. And as before, with the bitter stab of betrayal, he felt the Dark Side rush to him.
Obi-Wan expected to be more angry. He expected more pain, more hurt, more pure rage, as the Dark Side swelled around him, but he felt none of that. He could feel the grip of the Force upon him, not clutching him in talons that pierced and hurt, but gently stroking his shoulders, embracing him as he embraced it. His senses sharpened, the disturbance in the Force brought about by the dying light, the inky pitch of darkness seemed to part before him, and he could see clearly what it was he must do. Everything fell into place as euphoria and relaxation washed over him, the exact meaning of all of this becoming clear and tangible.
Darth Sidious, Lord of the Sith, considered him a rival, had sent a powerful new apprentice to not only kill him, but prove his worthiness in the process, and if it didn't work out, well, it could easily be explained away, and despite his clarity now, Obi-Wan knew that Sidious could enter his mind and manipulate him back into obedience, knew that even now, especially now, he lacked the strength to destroy the Master. But in all of this, Sidious had shown weakness. He was fearful of his apprentice, feared death and the place of the Master to fall to his Apprentice, as the Sith had done for a thousand years. And in showing this fear, by Skywalker even being here and calling himself Darth Vader, Sidious was recognizing Lumis as a Master. Relief washed through him just as power did, the Dark Side soothing and caressing him, not as a possession, but as a friend, a lover, and in his mind, Obi-Wan could hear the soft, sweet whisper of three words that meant more than any he had heard in a very long time.
You are free.
Lumis felt surrounded by the Force, so deep within the Dark Side that the violent disruption of the tempest that raged above went unnoticed, so peaceful that the screams of the Force as the Jedi died never reached his ears, so cold that the rage that burned within him froze and sharpened into a dangerous blade. And curled around him was a leviathan, coiled and still as death, and Kenobi would have thought it so if he hadn't been looking right into its large, golden eye rimmed with red, the eye of a Sith, awake and blazing with hatred and vengeance and wrath and power, infinite and unlimited. Kenobi was insignificant beside the creature, and yet, his presence didn't go unnoticed. The creature saw him. And yet, it lay still, lay patient, lay waiting for the moment to rise up, the slightest movement of its body enough to send the surface waters crashing in violent, destructive waves upon all that came near, and Obi-Wan wondered what would happen if that beast were to fully awaken, to not just move slightly, but move with purpose toward a single goal.
"I'm giving you one chance, Vader," Obi-Wan said calmly, looking about the room and focusing on the body of Bo-Katan as she began to move, and watching as Cody quickly moved to the side of the fallen Shaak Ti and gently brought his hand to her face. The clone was more upset that Kenobi had thought he would have been. He had always thought the Jedi was merely a possession, but it didn't appear that way now. "Turn back now. I won't have more death today."
"But I would!" Vader snarled, his grasp tightening around Padmé's wrist, and the girl cried out in pain. "I won't let you take her from me!"
"Take her?" Lumis asked softly, a smirk on his face as he looked the man over. "I can't take from you what you don't have." Obi-Wan could feel Vader's anger spike, the Dark Side howling and raging around him, a savage beast that clawed and swiped the air with razor sharp claws, and Lumis stared at him with indifference. Vader's power was immense, but the more angry he became, the more unbalanced he was. It made him exceptionally dangerous, but it also made him reckless.
"She is mine!" Vader snarled, and Kenobi just laughed.
"Shall we ask her?" he asked softly, eyes never leaving Vader's face, watching as hatred and fury and jealousy played across his face like a symphony.
"You're going to kill her!" Vader shouted. "I have seen it, you're going to kill her! I'm going to save her life by ending yours!"
"Anakin..." Padmé gasped, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. "Let me go!" She struggled in his grasp and reached out toward the Sith Lord that stood calm and collected on the other side of the room. "Obi-wan!"
With a furious snarl, Vader threw Padmé to the ground, the woman whimpering for just a moment before the Force closed around her throat, and Kenobi rushed forward, skidding to a stop when Padmé began to writhe upon the ground, not just from the struggle to breathe, but as pain shot through her. The high whine of blasters being primed sounded through the air as Cody and Bo-Katan, both warriors absolutely furious, trained their weapons on the creature before them. Kenobi outstretched his hands toward them both. "Stop, don't shoot!" he commanded, and while neither of them moved, he could feel them silently comply, their tense trigger fingers relaxing. "Let her go, Vader!"
"You turned her against me!" Skywalker snarled, his eyes never leaving Kenobi's, his extended hand slowly tightening its grip on the struggling woman.
"You have done that yourself!" Kenobi hissed, slowly beginning to inch forward, and he smirked softly when Skywalker's fury intensified.
"Me?" he gasped, staring at the other Sith Lord for a long moment before his hand released, Padmé's struggling ceasing as she lay still, and Skywalker's lightsaber flew to his hand and blazed to life. "Me?!" he shouted, rushing toward Kenobi and stopping suddenly when he felt the Dark Side hiss in warning, the snarling beast ceasing its thrashing as it began to pace, cautious and watchful. He was stronger than Kenobi, and he had always been so...why was he so afraid? "You took her from me! You manipulated her mind, you made her want you!"
"I did no such thing," Kenobi said softly. "That would be your dear, sweet Master. What better way was there to manipulate you?" Anakin snarled in fury, his saber raised as he slowly began to circle Kenobi, his rage settling into focus as he took the measure of his opponent, the man calm and collected as he slowly mimicked his steps, circling each other slowly as each prepared to strike. "She came to me," Obi-Wan said softly, "bruised and battered and mentally destroyed and so, so afraid." Kenobi stopped moving, and Vader quickly followed suit, his jaw clenching in anger, and a small smile had come to Obi-Wan's lips. He and Anakin had switched positions. Padmé was behind him, in pain and unconscious, but alive. "Of you. Scared enough that she came with willingly."
Anakin hissed in pain as a voice cut through his mind like a knife. An irritating, nagging thing that told him that Kenobi was right. She had been gone for months, her handmaidens stationed to cover for her, the girls acting like nothing was out of place when they should have been frantically searching for her. Unless they knew. Unless Padmé had told them she was leaving. He shook his head and growled in rage as he pushed the notion away. "Your words are poison, you are lying! She just doesn't understand what you are, I will make her understand."
"Cody," Kenobi said softly when the clone sidled up next to him, "your only objective is survival. Get Bo-Katan and Padmé to the Umbra and load up the rancor. If things go wrong, I want you all safe. You know where to go."
"I'm not leaving you, sir," Cody whispered, and Kenobi shot him a withering glare.
"You will do as I say, Cody."
The clone looked at the Sith Lord by his side for a long moment, his golden eyes fixed on the nearly hyperventilating Skywalker. "...I'm coming back for you, Kenobi. Stay alive until I do." Slowly, the clone began backing away, coming to stand beside Bo-Katan, and after whispering to her for a moment, the woman nodded, kept her blasters trained on Anakin, and they both moved back to crouch defensively before Padmé.
"Maybe I was wrong," Obi-Wan chirped, his voice light and easy, and Skywalker nearly came out of his skin. "Maybe you're just here for our trade. Dear Wilhuff misses you so much..."
A cruel smirk slid across Vader's face, and he tossed his blue lightsaber to his left hand, and with his right, he called the one on his belt to his hand, Quinlan Vos' green blade extending with a hiss, and Kenobi's eyes widened. Vader could feel those eyes burning holes into him, and for just a moment, he felt darkness, hatred and anger that burned so deep, it nearly took his breath away, nearly made his tight hold on the Dark Side slip away from him. And then it was gone, a void of a different kind left in its wake. If the man felt the pull of insanity that Sidious said he would, than Lumis hid it well.
"I'm going to kill you, Lumis," Vader said, his voice deep and cold. "I'm going to gut you with your best friend's lightsaber, I want you to feel it burn the heart right out of you." He grinned broadly when Lumis' face became entirely expressionless, blank, save for his eyes, which glowed with golden fire, with hatred and wrath and grief so deeply felt, Vader saw nothing else within him. "You should thank me for it. This is an experience you will share with Satine. I hear that slut died with a lightsaber through her, as did your vile spawn." He chuckled deeply as he looked at the man, twirling the two lightsabers in his hand, but Kenobi wasn't moving. "I'll find Tarkin after you're dead. Draw your blades, Lumis."
"Blades..." Kenobi hissed, snatching one of the lightsabers off of his belt and holding it in his hand. "I only need one lightsaber to end you, Vader." He thumbed the switch, the blade igniting with a hiss, and Anakin's previous balance was lost in an instant as he stared at the thrumming blade in the Sith's hand, the glow of the weapon casting his face in blue light.
Qui-Gon's lightsaber.
Vader's eyes narrowed on the weapon, his heart suddenly racing as rage turned quickly to power within him, the cyclone spinning out of control as the Force roared around him. "That weapon belongs to me!" he snarled, pointing Quinlan's green blade it it. With a deep breath, Lumis spun the saber in his hand, the weapon coming to rest behind his shoulder, blue blade angled down as he assumed Soresu's defensive posture. He had things to defend.
Kenobi extended his hand, feeling the Force flow through him as he beaconed Skywalker to come at him. "I disagree," Obi-Wan said softly, "but if you mean to claim it, come and get it."
Vader's tenuous control snapped, and nothing else mattered. With a howl of rage, he pushed off the ground and rushed at the Sith Lord, both of his blades clashing against Kenobi's blue, his defense perfect as he deftly sidestepped and redirected the fight, retreating backwards rapidly under the savage offense and leading Skywalker out of the room, and Obi-Wan smirked softly as he watched Bo-Katan and Cody quickly move to lift the unconscious Padmé and bring her to safety. Once in the hallways, Kenobi slowed the speed of his retreat, breathing deeply as he calmed his heart, slowed his breathing, and allowed the Force to guide his movements. They were small deflections, the slightest movements necessary to bring wild, savage blade away from striking him. Vader's blades were moving so fast, they drew long ribbons of light in the air as they slashed and cut and circled and spun, the motions unpredictable, the movements random, but Kenobi blocked them all, his small, controlled movements ensuring that his blade was always exactly where it needed to be.
Lumis was a master in this style. Perhaps the master in this style, according to Sidious, to his constant disappointment. For years, the Sith Master had tried to impose a more aggressive style, a more violent style than the careful defensive that had served the Jedi so well, and while he did take to the other forms, Soresu had always been what Kenobi was best at. He had always been patient and cautious, and allowing an opponent to break themselves against his impenetrable defense suited him just fine.
But Vader was good. Very good. He was swift and strong, highly athletic and very aggressive, his immeasurable strength in the Force kept him from fatiguing as he drew upon its infinite well, and his mistakes and missteps were few and far between. And still, Kenobi defended, retreating as he did so, his movements fluid and instinctual as the calm, cold ice of the Dark Side guided his actions, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike. Vader's wide, wild swings arched in the air, each strike beating against Obi-Wan's blade each slash brutally sending showers of sparks flying into the air, each sweeping swing striking the wall and leaving long lines of angry red scars in the black stone.
His green blade dragged through the floor as he slashed upwards, snarling in rage as the slash connected with blue, and quickly brought his own blue weapon around as he spun, slicing downwards and quickly up and across, Kenobi blocking and ducking under those as well as his lightsaber suddenly pressed forward to shoot toward Vader's wrist, a weakness in his offensive flurry detected. Vader only just managed to wrench his arm out of the way, snarling in fury as he leapt into the air to flip over the Sith Lord, but was cut short when Kenobi's weapon raised up with him, the tip of the blade searing into Skywalker's ankle and lancing him with pain. Pain turned to hatred and then to power, the sudden rush opening Vader to the Dark Side and sending the beast howling in outrage, and hand extended, Kenobi grabbed hold of the raging young Sith and threw him back against the wall.
Vader twisted in the air as he landed, unsteady on his feet from the sudden pain that shot through his leg from the smoking hole in his boot Before he could regain his balance, Lumis was upon him, his careful, easy defensive abandoned in favor of a punishing offensive as he pressed the advantage he had, and Skywalker found himself being pressed back in a mad retreat as he struggled to regain his balance under the pressure of the onslaught. Vader hissed in fury as he was pressed back. He had been forced to follow Obi-Wan when he had been the attacker, the fury of his rage against the man driving him to relentlessly pursue, but now that he was on the wrong end of a rage-fueled assault, Skywalker found himself being herded, directed in exactly the direction the Sith wanted him to go.
It was too much. With a howl of rage, Vader lashed out with both his blades against his attacker, green and blue slicing both sides of the narrow hallway with deep, long cuts, but striking with no blade as Kenobi ducked underneath the uncontrolled slice and cut a long, thin line across Skywalker's side. This time, the pain went hardly noticed by the enraged Vader, and Obi-Wan slipped back into the defensive as his opponent renewed his assault.
The hallway opened up into a large, circular room, the walls made of thick glass that served as an observation deck that overlooked the black, ash banks of the lava rivers below, inky stone of the floor and ceiling catching the light of the lava and casting the entire room aglow in sinister light. The wide open space works to Vader's advantage, the confines of the hallway gone and freeing him up to fully utilize his fast, athletic style, his movements wild and swift and highly mobile. Gone is the danger of close quarters, faded away as he opened himself up to the fury of the Force, the divine delight of the Dark Side as he lunged around Kenobi, circling him like prey as he jumped and flipped and spun, his twin sabers beating against the Sith Lord in rapid, continuous spray of sparks and flashing light as the blades connected, never seeming to leave contact.
Vader is a blur of green and blue light, so fast, so chaotic that it is almost painful to look at him, and the pulsing fury of the Dark Side, the violent rage of a storm untethered would be enough to tear a lesser man to bits. Perhaps a Jedi would fall before such a powerful creature, savage winds tearing down any defenses, any resistance that may be in place, but by the time it touches Darth Lumis, the cyclone is a gentle breeze, the fires hissing and dying as they lick at a wall of ice, cold, hard rage keeping him focused upon the increasingly wrathful Vader. A swift and sudden stab came dangerously close to Kenobi's neck, a swift sidestep saving him from what would have been immediate death, and the calm, expressionless mask he wore broke into a contemptuous sneer, the leviathan that lived within the deepest reaches of the Dark Side stirring, slowly moving beneath the thick sheet of ice within him.
Kenobi batted Skywalker's sabers away, strike after strike, and, raising his hand, lightning arched from the tips of his fingers, blue, arching bolts that Vader, only just avoided, swinging his own blue saber around to absorb the energy, and with a vicious snarl, the two clashed again. Force lightning continued to crackle in the air as Lumis channeled the wrath of the Dark Side through him, keeping Skywalker's off-hand blade occupied with keeping deadly electricity from touching him while green blade met the Sith's blue. Vader dodged and ducked, dashing from side to side in an attempt to get the lightning to cease, but to no avail. He looked into the blazing eyes before him, glowing with hatred and focus so sharp that it physically hurt him to look upon the Sith, but Vader found he couldn't look away.
Skywalker could feel the pull toward the man, something in his chest aching and yearning to fly from his grasp and join with the enemy, and further hatred rose within him. Kenobi, Lumis, would take everything from him. His ships, his Admiral, his wife, and now it seemed as the Force itself was being pulled toward the man, abandoning him in favor of something that Anakin could not understand. A sneer of contempt crossed Skywalker's face as he backed into something more defensive, one blade warding against the lightning that continued to flow while the other tried desperately to drive itself into the Sith's vile, blackened heart. His fury continued to rise as the Sith struck at him, and Vader could feel the Force pulsing through him as he drew deeper of the power that called to him, but the harder he grasped at the Force, the faster the uncontrollable blaze slipped out of his grasp. He caught some of the flames, to be sure, but the inferno raged wild, and for as much power as he drew from it, just as much was slipping from his grasp, drawn to the cold fury of Obi-Wan.
The currents of the Dark Side flowed through everything, and the harder that Vader grasped it, the deeper he dove to draw from it's power, the more Lumis knew him, sensed him, grasped at the darkness running through him, and within moments, he was in Skywalker's mind, a vast expanse of fires the raged and burned everything within him as the Dark Side howled with laughter in its conquest. A slow smirk came across Lumis' face. He sensed hatred and anger, intense and wild and dangerous, but above everything within Skywalker, there was fear. Fear that was quickly and properly channeled into power, yes, but fear none the less. Fear for his captive Admiral, the man that he had served with for so long and came to see as a friend. Fear of losing this fight, for being shown to be inferior to the man he hated above all else. Fear that his child would be tainted and corrupted by Sith evil. Fear of losing Padmé, his lovely, used and abused wife. Fear that he had chosen wrong. Fear of what he had become.
And through it all, he could sense his Master's hand, deep and insidious within him, not only influencing him, but slaving the powerful youth to his will. Kenobi could already sense Vader's submission to Darth Sidious, the yearning to do as he commanded, even as he hated him, even as his mind and the Dark Side raged against the idea, drove him toward murder, convinced him that he was strong enough to kill the malignant Sith. It wouldn't last, of course. Sidious would quickly put him in his place. Kenobi knew that all too well. Even now, he could feel his Master's grasp within him, could sense the whimpering ache to kneel, to learn, to submit. He could never be near Sidious again. He made slaves, not apprentices, and Vader's mere presence had snapped his chains, and now, he was free.
Not yet powerful enough to kill the Master, but in time, he would be.
"Do you know what you are?" Lumis asked softly as he knocked Skywalker's blade out of the way, the lightning ceasing, but remnants still crackled and sizzled along Vader's blade. "You've become Sith, Skywalker. I don't think you grasp what that means."
"It means that your usefulness has ended!" he snarled, beating down upon Kenobi's blades with heavy, violent strikes, but the calm elegance of Obi-Wan's blade easily redirected them to crash uselessly against the floor. "When you're dead, when Padmé is safe from your evil, I'll kill Palpatine, and Padmé and I will rule the galaxy together!"
"Oh, you poor idiot..." Lumis groaned, arching his blade up as Anakin's wild swings left an opening, and the tip of his blade grazed the scar that already ran next to his eye. Vader didn't even seem to register pain as anger rushed through him, and he became stronger still, and Lumis drank deeply of the Dark Side that flowed from Vader's well. "Sidious is already within you, you must feel it. I can already sense your yearning for submission." A wry smile crossed his lips as his blade seemed to move on its own, blocking the mad, wild strikes of Vader as his hatred deepened, as fear surfaced with the clear cut of truth deeply felt. "As I said to you so long ago, once a slave, always a slave."
It broke him. The Force itself ripped open under the strain of the blazing wrath that consumed him, the feral, savage beast warping and twisting into something large and crazed, the predator's snarling calculations and vicious single-mindedness ripped apart and replaced with blinding fury so strong, so intense, so unfocused that it lashed out at everything. The ceiling began to shake, the glass vibrating rapidly as Darth Vader howled from the depths of the Dark Side itself, wild and savage and lacking for even the slightest control over his body. His speed increased tenfold, his strength punishing in its intensity, his limbs flailing wild and random as he lashed out at the grinning Sith Lord before him. He was dangerous, far more than he had ever been, far more than he would likely ever be again.
It was exactly what Lumis wanted.
"Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak," Kenobi snarled, his hand extended as he focused the Force to reach out slowly, carefully, Vader's rage blinding him to his intentions as he beat his blades against other Sith. "Wonoksh Qyâsik nun. Through victory, my chains are broken, Darth Vader, and when I beat you, I shall be truly free." A savage howl of rage ripped through the air as Vader swung his sabers, and Kenobi flipped above them to get out of the way, and as he gazed down at the blazing yellow of Skywalker's eyes, his hand tightened into a fist, the Force clamping shut at his command and shattering Vader's cybernetic right hand in a shower of sparks and screeching metal. Obi-Wan's hand flew open, reaching out and pulling back, the falling weapon flying to his hand, and as he landed, the brilliant green of Quinlan Vos' lightsaber ignited.
"None of this matters," Vader savagely growled, his entire body shaking with rage and hate that he could not contain. "When you're dead, none of this will matter. And you will die, Lumis," he snarled, his blue weapon raised and pointing toward Kenobi. "I am more powerful than any Jedi ever!"
Obi-Wan smirked as he watched the powerful man, the raging of the Dark Side pulling him off-balance with the might of its fury. "Maybe so," he said softly. "But I am no Jedi."
Vader was more dangerous than anticipated, and he fought better with one blade than he did with two, and when they clashed again, Kenobi could feel the oppressive weight of the darkness within him pressing down hard, ensnared by this powerful nexus to do his bidding, even as it tried to flee from him. But as Skywalker drank deeper and deeper, Kenobi could feel him drowning, sputtering for air as he sank, his sense of self being lost in the greedy pull of the dark tide within him. It was the power of a Master, practiced and powerful, but in the Dark Side, Darth Vader was a child, and he was reaching far beyond his abilities, and in the throes of the Dark Side, he began to make mistakes. Big ones.
An unguarded flank drew green plasma across him, burning the black of his tunic and the skin underneath, an over-reaching lunge found blue touching his leg before he swiftly withdrew with an angry snarl. Through the pain, through the hatred, through the rage, Vader grew stronger and stronger, wild and reckless abandon marking his every move, and while Kenobi blocked and dodged, the strikes became harder, faster, stronger until Anakin's blade circled his, sending his blades upwards, and a swift, powerful foot drove into Obi-wan's stomach. The air was knocked from his lungs, and as he flew back, he felt searing pain rush through him as the tip of Vader's saber dug into his shoulder and ripped across his body, cutting away his robes and exposing his pale, scarred skin, a deep, burning line of flesh running across his chest.
Less than a second later and Vader was upon him, Kenobi's twin blades held up before him to catch the blue saber as it crashed down upon him. His arms shook with pain, and he could feel the heat of the lava outside through the glass against his back, but his eyes never left Vader's, his intense, hateful, triumphant gaze piercing right through him, and he could hear the Dark Side roar in victory, Skywalker's power surging as he trapped the rival Sith. A high pitched whine echoed through the room, and a moment later, Vader howled in pain, lurching forward, and pressing his weight down harder against the Sith, and before Lumis could react, Skywalker's fury was redirected, his wrathful gaze ripped to the source of his agony as he slammed his knee into Kenobi's stomach and took off running.
Shaking in pain as he caught his breath, Obi-Wan looked on in horror as Darth Vader, a smoking hole in his shoulder, rushed toward the other side of the room, batting continuous fire away as Cody shot at him. The suppressing fire slowed Skywalker down considerably, and in a moment, Kenobi was on his feet, lightsabers in hand as he rushed to his friend's aid, but before he could reach the enraged young Sith, Skywalker had gestured wildly with his hand, tearing the blaster from the clone's grip and sending him flying toward the nearest wall. The thick glass cracked with the impact as Cody struck it, and he fell dazed to the floor, scrambling to get back to his feet, but his legs wouldn't obey him.
The blaster that hung suspended in the air began to warp and twist, the metal groaning and screeching as it was compressed and shaped into a wicked, dull point, and Kenobi brought his sabers down upon Vader just as the man had used the Force to hurl the metal at blinding speeds, the blue saber coming up to ferociously block Kenobi's strike, but Vader's eyes never left the clone. Kenobi followed his gaze just in time to see the dull blade pierce through the prone Cody's side, the man gasping as his body tensed and shuddered, and time froze as Obi-Wan watched his clone, his friend get struck down. He didn't hear himself screaming as he sliced his blades up Vader's body as he disengaged, Skywalker twisting out of the way, but the blue saber cut through what remained of Anakin's right arm Kenobi rushed to Cody's side, blind to all else, deaf to the outraged, pained cries of Vader as he looked at the smoking piece of his arm upon the ground.
Obi-Wan dropped to the ground, the lightsabers in his hand deactivating and falling with a clatter beside the clone, and he grabbed the mangled blaster and carefully removed it from Cody's body. Blood pulsed out of the wound and puddled on the ground, and Obi-Wan quickly shrugged off the tatters of his robes, bunched them up, and pressed them to the bleeding hole, the clone gasping in pain as the Sith Lord applied pressure. Kenobi was almost too nervous to feel for him in the Force as the man clenched his jaw, his body tense and his eyes focused on the man he served. Obi-Wan couldn't look at him, and he closed his eyes, a hand on the man's chest as he felt his heart and felt it strongly beating, felt pain through the Force, but also defiance and anger, strong and unyielding. This was not the feel of a dying man.
"The ship is secure, sir," Cody gasped. "Everyone's safe..."
"You idiot," Kenobi hissed, pressing down harder on the tatters of his robes, and the clone gasped in pain and chuckled softly.
"Told you I'd come back for you..." Obi-Wan looked down at the man, the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it faded quickly as he heard Vader laughing behind him, felt the Dark Side swell and rage and the newly made Sith Lord drank deep from the pain of the clone, the blood spilt on the ground, the promise of death and victory, the thrill of watching his enemy lose something he clearly cared for. Kenobi took his fallen lightsabers and pressed Quinlan's into Cody's palm.
"Hang on to this for me," he muttered. "You need to give it back to me when I return."
"Promise?" Cody gasped, clutching the weapon tightly as his other hand replaced Kenobi's on the cloth over the wound.
"Yes," the Sith Lord growled, looking over his shoulder at smug, arrogant, intoxicated Vader. "I promise." He could suffer no more losses. Not today, and not because of this upstart. All that mattered now was protecting Cody from the beast that now knew how much this clone meant to him. All that mattered was protecting this man, one that had stood by him for so long, his only true friend left. The thought of losing him flashed through his mind, and Kenobi could feel himself slipping, grief swallowing everything he ever was and devouring him, leaving him an empty shell for the Dark Side. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and snarled as he pushed the thought away. It wasn't an option. He wouldn't lose Cody. He couldn't. Deep within himself, he could feel rage move within him, cold and sharp and living as he grasped hold of his need, and turned himself over to the Force.
In a moment, the ice shattered. The thick wall of his cold rage that had contained the power of the Dark Side, the barrier that kept him calm and cool and measured, broke, crumbling to nothing as the leviathan, the ancient creature deep in the depths of the Force, reared up and broke the surface of the Force, not just to be seen, but to roar its fury, so fearsome that the very air shook. Vader felt the air knocked out of his lungs as the Dark Side he commanded suddenly turned on him, clamping down around him and extinguishing the wild, untamed flames, and he was left with pain and fear, his eyes slowly widening as his heart began to race.
Before Vader could see him move, Lumis reached out with both hands, wrath drawn from the Force itself rushing through his veins as blue lightning arched through the air toward the other Sith. Vader brought up his blade to block the barrage, but he was too slow, the spread too wide, and it struck him in the chest with such power that it threw Skywalker through the air, slamming him against the thick glass with such force that it shattered, and Vader fell to the fiery banks below.
Anakin landed in the banks of black ash beside a flowing river of lava, and he quickly jumped to his feet, hissing in pain as the exposed flesh of what was left of his arm sizzled from the touch of the burning ground. His lungs filled with air so hot he thought his chest would burn from the inside, and he quickly began to run up the slope, his feet scrambling for purchase as the ash slipped and smouldered beneath his feet, his body nearly immediately covered in a sheen of sweat that dripped off his face.
He had nearly reached the top when Darth Lumis jumped from the observation deck and landed before him at the top of the hill, his red lightsaber in hand, golden eyes glowing with malice, his sharp, merciless face cast in red light and black shadows, his bare chest almost seeming to glow with power, and Vader could feel the air around him freeze, the blaze of nearby lava unable to penetrate the Dark Side that engulfed them. The Force had been torn open, and for the first time since the battle began, Vader felt Lumis in the Force, infinite darkness and focused power rushing through the man that was lined with pain and hate and anger and grief so profound, it nearly overwhelmed him, so cold, he thought he would freeze to the spot, so blinding, he thought he'd never see again.
It was like looking into the heart of the Force itself.
There was no balance to be had, physical or otherwise, as Vader moved his blade as quickly as he could trying to ward off the fast, vicious strikes of the Sith Lord as he was slowly pushed back down the hill toward the river of lava below, fear running like ice in his veins as he stood against not an apprentice, as Sidious had said, but a Master. He could feel his mind begin to weaken, the dark tendrils that ran through him bending toward Lumis, a soft whisper within him urging him to bow, to submit, and Anakin felt the sinking feeling that Lumis had been right. He was already bound to the Sith Master, already tied to his will, and he wanted it.
He shook his head to clear the notion, moving his blade as quickly as he could slowly sliding down the ashy hill as Lumis pressed down against him, drawing ever closer to the lava below. He twisted to maintain balance in a lopsided body and evade the quickly moving blade, the red weapon barely visible in the red lighting of the planet as it drew long, bleeding gashes in the air. One thing became clear to Vader as he was pressed down the hill.
He had to get away from the lava.
Drawing deep of the Force, Anakin looked to the spot on the hill above the furious, focused Lumis, and taking a deep breath, he bent down and jumped, flipping above the Sith Lord's head. It was a jump he could easily make, the Force always running strong through him, but as soon as his feet left the ground, he felt a sharp pain in his chest as he realized his mistake. At his best, the jump was an easy one, but here, now, the Force was not his ally.
As he flipped over Lumis, he lashed out with his blue blade, the weapon sparking as it struck bleeding red with such impact that the spin of the jump was knocked out of line, and instead of landing gracefully behind Lumis, Vader twisted, his eyes widening as pain rushed through him, landing on his side in the ash and rolling down the hill as the ground slid and shifted beneath him. He planted his feet to stop his fall, but ended up howling in pain as his flesh began to burn, and he let go of his lightsaber to dig his hand into the ground, sliding to a stop mere feet from the river of lava at the bottom. Vader whimpered in pain, his body shaking and convulsing from the pain, the searing heat, the biting cold, and he looked with stinging, watering eyes to his side to see his legs laying a few feet beside him, severed mid-thigh.
Lumis slowly walked down the hill, sure of foot in the ash where he had spent countless hours training, and he grabbed Vader by the wrist with the Force and lifted him in the air, the convulsing, defeated man, groaning in pain through grit teeth, his red and yellow eyes staring unfocused and hazy at the man that had vanquished him. Lumis looked him over, impassive for a moment before a vicious sneer came to his face.
"You lost Padmé the moment you threatened to kill her child," Lumis said softly pity lining a voice that burned low with hatred of the man he held. "Kriffing hell, you may have even succeeded in that, your assault on her tonight isn't a thing those bolstered by the Force handle well..." A pained, grieving howl tore from Vader's throat as he weakly struggled in his grasp, the stumps of his legs flailing and tearing through with pain with every movement.
"I hate you!" Vader screeched, his voice cracking with pain and the depths of his now impotent rage, and Lumis chuckled softly as he looked at him.
"Good. You hold on to that hatred, Vader, let it sustain you. It's how Maul survived, and I cut him in half. You're far better off than he was." Kenobi laughed bitterly. "I find this ironic, don't you? The only Sith Lord to die by my hand was the one I called an ally, and a friend." Gold eyes focused on the man suspended by his arm, and he could feel his chest harden with ice, the powerful creature that wrapped around him retreating back into the depths of the Force to rest as it awaited the time when it would be called again. Hatred and cold anger gripped him, and he took a few steps closer to the struggling man.
"Death," he growled deeply, "is too good for you. You and Sidious deserve each other." Lumis held up his red saber, the weapon thrumming in the air before them, the blade reflected in the hateful, fearful eyes of Darth Vader. "This is for Quinlan Vos," he drawled, and he sliced the bloody blade across the arm the Vader hung suspended by, the screaming man dropping with a thud into the smouldering ash.
Weariness overcame Kenobi, and he jumped upon a nearby rock formation and sat, his legs dangling over the edge and his arms draped behind him as he watched the glowing embers catch fire to Vader's robes, and screaming, the man began to burn. Relief and satisfaction ran through Obi-Wan as he watched the culmination of over ten years of visions play out before him, his face in flames, Anakin Skywalker, screaming and howling in pain as fire danced over his skin, charring and burning until it was blackened and cracked and bleeding, and Lumis thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Revenge was immeasurably sweet, and Kenobi could feel satisfaction and pleasure rush through the Dark Side, a silent, affectionate sign of a job well done. He had briefly considered killing him when he felt the satisfaction of his suffering fade, but then what? Sidious would come after him, and with an Empire at his call, hiding may not be an option, a thing that would be made even more difficult if Padmé were alive and managed to deliver the twins. Being in hiding with an infant, let alone two, was a difficult task, and Vader would never stop hunting for his wife. It created several problems, but the solution was twofold.
If Vader lived, if Sidious was forced to live with the apprentice he had chosen, rather than the apprentice he had, then he would be occupied not just in training formidable Vader, but in keeping him leashed and building him up to be strong enough to one day clash with Lumis again. Searching for him would be far more difficult then, though Kenobi had no doubt that he would. After all, with Lumis gone, Sidious would risk losing both his vergences instead of just the one if he abandoned Vader to look for the rogue Sith Lord. And Darth Sidious deserved to have a mangled, shell of an apprentice for his betrayal, for his misuse of the Force, for all he had done to bend the Force to his will when all he needed to do was follow the flow of the mighty river. The Force was biting back. This was right.
As for Padmé...
Kenobi shook his head. He didn't want to think about it.
"My Lord!" Lumis tore his golden eyes away from the burning, screaming Vader and looked behind him to see Cody, the clone limping down the hill, the Sith Lord's belt strapped around his waist, three lightsabers clipped to it, and the tatters of the robe held tightly to his side and clearly soaked through with blood. He reached out with the Force and grabbed the man, lifting him in the air and gently setting the wincing man down on the rock beside him. He looked weary and pale and in dire need of medical attention.
"Bo-Katan commed me," Cody whispered, leaning back against the rock formation and gasping in pain as Kenobi's hand covered his own on the rags and applied greater pressure, his body suddenly tingling with the warm touch that he knew to be the Force. "Scans picked up a fleet of Star Destroyers coming out of hyperspace within the system. It won't be long before they surround the planet."
"My Master is coming..." Lumis said softly. "I can't be here when he arrives. We need to go." Cody nodded wearily and drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and pointed it at the screaming man below.
"Do you want me to kill him?"
"No," Lumis said, his voice almost indifferent, if not for the current of satisfaction running through him, intense eyes fixed on Vader and drinking in the sight so he would never forget. "Let him burn." With a nod, Cody holstered the blaster, groaning as he tried to sit up, but giving up soon after. He unclipped one of the lightsabers from the belt he wore and pressed the hilt of Quinlan's weapon into Kenobi's palm. With a small, grateful smile, the Sith Lord slid off the rock, taking a deep breath as he commanded the Force to set the clone down beside him. Slinging Cody's arm around his shoulders, Obi-Wan led his friend up the hill, away from Anakin Skywalker, and he never looked back.