A/N: ...my bad?
Friday, 11:49pm; Lower Levels
Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the hood of his speeder. His nails caught the peeling crimson paint and hit the metal with a dull thud. His tongue dried, scratching like sandpaper against the flesh of his mouth. Some seconds flew, some swam into eternity until they brushed the horizon.
(Please let Anakin be okay.)
He double-checked the note scrunched in the palm of his hand. Creased though it was, the lazy scrawl clearly dictated his correct positioning. Block fifty-four, three streets down from the outdated solar-energy plant. He tapped his foot. The time swam nearer to midnight every second. A cliché stage for a showdown, but Marius seemed to have a flair for the dramatic.
Obi-Wan wouldn't waste time on theatrics tonight. Not now. After everything. The initial kidnapping, the chase across the galaxy, the horror that dug its home in Obi-Wan's gut – a flesh-eating thing that never ventured far from his person – and the rescue. The healing. If the determination was caused by anything, it was the healing.
Obi-Wan couldn't allow Marius to strip the progress into shreds of paper. He couldn't let him get at Anakin's throat again.
(And if he tried, Obi-Wan was going to beat him to death with his bare hands.)
He'd almost completed step one. Locate. Marius would arrive soon, Anakin in tow, and Obi-Wan could sweep into action.
Locate. Rescue. Kill.
Not particularly Jedi-like. Not particularly noble. But necessary. A permanent end to the torment.
A mechanical whir and the street lights flickered on, repurposed flood-lights that bathed the flat steel with a harsh, white glow. They were set to a quarter hour timer, turning on for five minutes then shutting down for the remaining ten. An expense saving nuisance that rendered the atmosphere to a quiet yellow illumination at most points, where you could barely see your hand waved in front of your face.
Obi-Wan squinted at the change, loathe to shut his eyes for longer than a millisecond. Three and a half minutes had passed. Another three went by. Silence draped the street, a heavy cloth muffling the musical drone of ship engines far, far above his head.
A throbbing hum emanated from a few streets away, where the buzz of the population's nightlife thrived mostly undisturbed. The proximity shot jitters up Obi-Wan's arm – this wasn't private, nor secluded, nor any place for a quiet confrontation. If he wrangled with Marius cleverly enough he could contain the event, but Marius possessed the upper hand. If he wanted to cloak himself in a crowded place he would be able to.
The lights cut to black and the yellow power-saving glow bloomed like flowers. Obi-Wan tapped his foot.
And then Marius was there.
He struck a tall figure, taking the place of the void, a good ten metres away but vividly uncanny; dull purple shadows swallowed his right cheek and rendered him inhuman, even as he held his hands politely behind his back. "Kenobi."
"Marius." Obi-Wan shifted, scanning him. He possessed a strong jaw, and lean forearms jutting from his greying shirt. Broad but sparse shoulders hinted at previous muscle gone to waste in scraps and bones. A fighter, but not in his peak.
"Pleasure to meet you in the flesh." Marius' eyes roamed Obi-Wan in a similar unpicking fashion. Dissecting and examining powers and flaws. Categorising. "A friend of yours has enlightened me to a great deal of your life. This feels more like a reunion." His voice dripped in a Corellian accent, pointed and a thin echo of high society. A mockery of Obi-Wan's own courtesy.
"Where is Anakin?"
"He's fine." The act dropped, a stronger, common drawl leaking into Marius' words. "Don't worry."
Obi-Wan's teeth caught the inside of his cheek as he clenched his jaw. Blood flooded his mouth. "He's fine. Meaning?"
"Sure, he's a little beaten, but only a couple of blocks away. You can see him when we're done."
Obi-Wan widened his stance. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand. "I presume you wish to kill me."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Nobody knows."
"A lot of effort lended to a revenge plot for it not to end in my murder."
Marius narrowed his eyes. "The living can be the hard part, Kenobi. Though I wouldn't expect you to understand that."
The lights jumped on. Five minutes of blinding clarity. Obi-Wan squinted, taking in pale skin and rough stubble. "Your lightsaber," Marius continued. Obi-Wan's hand reflexively found the silver hilt clasped to his belt. "Take it out. Don't activate it."
(Threat hid behind his words. A bluff? Or a genuine threat? The chattering of hundreds, thousands of low-level people a few streets away sank heavily into Obi-Wan's ears. He couldn't risk it.)
Obi-Wan trapped the end of the hilt between forefinger and thumb. The weight swung like a pendulum as he extended his arm.
"Drop it." Marius' eyes flashed grey, not a wrinkle or tell to be seen in his face. Obi-Wan complied. "Good. Step aside."
Obi-Wan followed the order. Marius drew a blaster from the folds of his back pocket. He fired once, twice. The first scorched the ground a charred black. The second found its target. It hit the hinge of the main panel – an old weakness. Marius evidently knew the weapon's craft intimately. Sparks flew like embers into the air, an unusable saber left in their place.
Obi-Wan, unarmed and lacking, schooled his expression. Qui-Gon had instructed him on the wiring of that saber. Its dysfunctions were memories in themselves, and Anakin's so-called improvements even more so.
(But he had to remain focused. For Anakin.)
"Right. That was easy," Marius said.
"Am I to stand here and take your brutal assault, then?" Obi-Wan queried. "Or shall I simply request reinforcements, locate Anakin, and then retreat to somewhere you will never find us?"
"Option number one would be great. Thanks."
Obi-Wan stepped, heel to toe, and began to pace. Marius mirrored. They were drawn into an uncertain semicircle act, neither willing to draw too close.
"Would you consider it impolite for me to ask you why?" Obi-Wan said coolly.
"Why?" Marius furrowed his brow. The twist of his mouth evidenced he knew precisely what Obi-Wan implied. "I'm surprised you and your Jedi haven't figured that out yet."
Lights out. Muted sepia. Flashes of Marius' teeth like andesite against the walls. "Perhaps I did it for the money. Someone paid me, promised me credits or currency or passage. It wasn't personal, it was business."
Obi-Wan's hand twitched. The teeth at his cheek dug harder.
"Or," Marius continued, "it was political. A statement against the heroes, against the Jedi and the Senate. Swipe one of their own from under them."
Obi-Wan couldn't tear his gaze from the hollow of Marius' eye sockets. The spew of possible motivations didn't stop, and yet both of them knew the answer.
"Maybe I did it for enjoyment."
Obi-Wan froze. Marius grinned, a hiss of a laugh behind fangs. "I took pride in tearing him apart. Breaking him into pieces. I tore away his flesh in chunks. There wasn't a masterpiece of an artful plan. It was just entertainment."
(Don't rise. Don't rise.)
"Shame you got too close to finding him. I had a system's worth of plans. His screaming would have never ended."
Obi-Wan levelled his breathing. His fingers arched towards his boot, stretching to the hidden blaster chafing against his ankle.
(Don't rise.)
"You know, I think the new kid is an improvement. The old version was rude. Annoying. I've done you a favour, really. You must've suffered terribly raising him –"
Obi-Wan snapped. He spread his hand wide. The grip of the blaster flew into his fingers. The Force sang with glee at the calling. He flung his right foot forward and aimed.
The weapon flew from his fingers like an aiwha. His fist clenched around air. Stunned, he watched it soar, driven by an unknown force. It tumbled in a graceful arc and landed in Marius' extended hand.
Marius tilted his head, his teeth catching his lip wetly. "Now. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." The goad vanished from his voice. Seriousness remained – a trick to force the enemy's hand in righteous anger. And Obi-Wan had fallen for it.
"For what it's worth," Marius said solemnly, "I didn't enjoy it. Any of it."
Obi-Wan hissed. His head throbbed. "It's worth nothing."
Marius tucked the blaster into his own belt. "Then I am sorry."
Obi-Wan's chest leadened with horror. He was unarmed. He was alone. And he was not the only Force-sensitive in the fight tonight.
Saturday, 12:15am; Lower Levels
Anakin's wrists ached. The cloth gag in his mouth rubbed the corners of his lips until he clamped his teeth around the material and jutted his jaw out, coughing and spluttering it away. Finally.
Breathe. Breathe.
Strange echoes, carried by the gusts of regulated airflow, bounced around the street. Anakin lay his head down against the speeder's backseat. He tugged at his restraints. They were solid, durasteel. Each futile pull drew blood and wrenched his shoulders. He shook. His fingers trembled around the credit Marius had left him with – for what slim amusement Anakin didn't know.
Breathe.
Marius had driven them for a good while, away from the deeper organs of Coruscant's living city. Anakin craned his neck until his eyes poked over the top of the door. Desolate emptiness permeated the street, but he was near the commercial zone. Only a few levels away if his ears served him right, though they hadn't fully healed from the explosions on the slaver's planet.
Marius left him with two instructions. Sit still. Be quiet. If he followed them, he wouldn't hurt him.
Anakin doubted that. Marius was efficient. Pain groomed efficiency. A tool he utilised often.
(A tool he was likely using against Obi-Wan. Right now.)
Anakin had no uncertainty Obi-Wan would come for him. Especially given Marius extended an invitation. But his nerves settled none. They skyrocketed.
(He would hurt Obi-Wan. He would kill Obi-Wan.)
Anakin thrashed. Kicked at the solid walls of the speeder. His toes throbbed, his boots scuffing to disrepair. He yelled. He screamed. An unsteady quality took hold of his voice, tearing his throat with animalistic fervour. He cried for help and no help came.
Fine. Anakin was used to this. He knew best how to deal with this. His words dimmed to a muted whimper. Then he steeled himself.
He shuffled and wriggled his way to a seated position. The restraints pulled his arms behind his back and he bit his tongue to regain clarity. He squeezed his left fingers into a streamline position.
Eyes downward. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale again.
In a fluid movement, Anakin yanked his hand up. His bones did not yield. Neither did the cuffs. Agony enveloped his forearm. He stifled a scream. Through greying vision, he positioned his hand again. Go now. Before he passed out.
Another yank. A crack. This time his fingers slipped through the metal restraint, slick with blood from the rubbed-raw skin. Anakin glanced at his thumb and pointer finger, both askew and crooked and burning, but free. He flexed his other three fingers. Better. He'd struggle to hold anything, but bare fists and nails would suffice.
One arm free allowed him to lean over the front headrests. Marius took the key, of course, but an old-style ink pen lay two inches off the dash. Anakin internally thanked Marius' strange fondness of anti-technology ideology. The point might work as a lockpick.
But no amount of strain allowed Anakin within grabbing distance. His vision blurred and he keeled over the seat, fighting his body's inclination to shut down. He slipped back, pressing his head to his free hand.
No other option, then. He wished he'd paid attention in class. There were millions of better ways to combat this, but he knew precisely zero others.
He clenched his jaw, his teeth rubbing together with an audible grate, and used his good fingers to hold the right cuff in place. It was easier, if excruciating, to rip his second hand free. A deadening numbness spread up his bicep, needles under his shoulder blades. He flexed his fingers and found them stiff and unreactive.
Kyla was going to slaughter him.
Anakin shimmied over the door, pressing weight only on his palms. He rounded the deserted vehicle. A quick scout ascertained he was still alone. Three well placed kicks and the bonnet popped open. He wrenched back the tangled wiring, grime staining the underside of his nails. He exposed the coolant and undid the tight clamp. This gave him access to a metre length of piping. He weighed it in his hands. Coppery bronze and rusting – it wasn't quite a lightsaber. But it would do.
Breathe.
Anakin tore a strip of cloth from his tunic. He wrapped it around his wrist twice and then around his fingers for support. Bit down hard on his tongue as he jostled the broken bones.
(Obi-Wan needed him. Obi-Wan might be dead already.)
All regret vanished. Anakin grimaced. It was going to be a siege and it was going to be a slaughter and it was going to be a bloodbath – but hadn't he survived all of those things twice over?
He turned. Marius had left towards the noise, so Anakin would too. Force inhibitor or not, his basic intuition remained intact.
Small steps to start, warding away the sickly sweet fog tainting his thoughts. Then a jog. Then a run – he took off. He followed the main roads. Followed his senses. Followed the sound of faint blaster fire.
He turned over Marius' credit, still nestled tight in his palm.
Perhaps he'd find a way to kill him with it.
A/N: I am going to finish this. Like, soon. Hopefully. I am hereby giving you full permission to bully me if I do not at least attempt to update regularly. But..
I need your help! We've all forgotten what the hell has even happened in this story (especially me). What would be absolutely mega helpful is if you guys can let me know your major questions. What would you like to find out in the conclusion? What would you like to see? What are your theories? If we work together, we might actually be able to wrap this up!
It's a big ask, I know, so it's fine if you can't think of anything! But I would appreciate anything and everything :D
I am so so grateful for all the reviews left this year! I treasure every single one (as in I reread them every spare second of my day). Please please drop in to say hello and let me know how you all are! Hope everything is going smoothly for you in these trying times :) And hope this update hypes you up a bit for what's to come. (Soon. Definitely not a year. Yeah.)
