"You tell your spice runners Tatooine is closed for business. This planet's seen enough violence."

The red-dressed man he's looking at, it's himself. Standing opposite of- "You should've never given up your armor."

Standing opposite of Cad Bane.

He feels himself recoil, but whatever form he's occupying, it doesn't move. The tension in the air could be either from that moment or from the sick feeling twisting in his gut with the horrible realization that he's trapped in the body of another, witnessing his fall from glory through someone else's eyes.

The buildings across the street tell him exactly who he's standing in as. Scott really had had a clear view to the whole thing, hadn't he?

Poor kid.

A slow step forward has the bounty hunter's mouth twitching even though his eyes are pointed dead ahead. Scott's body is tightly wound, and his twitching fingers feel mechanical in a clunky sort of way. No wonder he had died.

Cobb watches his own head tilt to realign itself upon his shoulders. That had been the moment he'd known Bane wouldn't back down.

And he feels that again, watching through Scott's cursed eyes. His head turns the slightest toward the cantina, and Cobb wants to scream at himself, to tell his intact past self to keep his focus. But he can't, and he meets his own eyes when they flick over to check in on Scott's impulse control.

The suddenness of the shot surprises him even now, and he jerks back as he watches himself get thrown backward. Except he actually moves. It's too late that he registers the pain stabbing into separate parts of his chest, and he doesn't even feel the fourth shot he's been told about-

He hits his head on glass. Transparisteel.

Cobb opens his eyes, and lets out a breath of relief. Because it's dark outside, the black abyss of stars and planets all around him, and that means he's not waking up in the bacta tank with a foreign shoulder again. Because he's sitting upright- and freezing- on a ship, as far from that day as can be. He never has been this far from home before.

It's near silent for the most part, aside from the murmurs exchanged between close-seated families in front of and behind him. He doesn't recognize anyone, and it's a weird feeling; on Tatooine, he saw regulars more than strangers, even in the Mos'es. Most of these people must have been visitors, or had gotten on when the transport had stopped at the Glavis Ringworld- and hadn't that been an interesting place- some hours ago. The alien across the aisle from him is one of the latter.

Alien in the sense that Cobb isn't sure what he is. Looks like a cross between a Weequay and a Klatooinian, but he's polite enough not to go asking the guy. But he can't deny that it reminds him of Taanti, and that takes him back to darker thoughts; he'd rather not focus on the guilt of not telling everyone close to him of where he's headed. Only Ann knows, and he's happy to keep it that way. He'll return, and that's all that matters. Doesn't need anyone coming after him to drag him back, as he's sure Din would do.

The seats of the transport are firmer than the one of his podracer bike- newer, more maintenanced. He's not quite sure how long the journey's been so far, but Cobb still isn't quite comfortable where he sits. How he managed to drift off long enough to have a nightmare, he doesn't know. But however much he shifts, he can't get the slightest bit settled. He's almost surprised that the Weetooinian hasn't mentioned it- he can feel him watching out of the corner of his eye- even if just to snap at him to stop making the bench creak.

But then again, they've not really spoken at all throughout the extent of the flight. A shame, because Cobb's learned that flying solo is a rather boring affair once one's gotten past the awe of flying at all.

Maybe that's why he'd fallen asleep, then.

Something else he should have thought about while buying his supplies, he supposes. He'd only thought about the essentials, hadn't realized that entertainment would be one in itself. His mistake, thinking that exchanging sarcastic messages with Fennec would be humor enough for him.

He wonders how long it will take her and the gotra to realize his absence from Tatooine, doesn't know if he should be offended if it takes them a while. Something tells him that Din will be the first to figure it out, being the only one who regularly visits Freetown. The Mandalorian might just rip the galaxy apart looking for him, too; Din Djarin is a right loyal man.

But there is such a thing as being too loyal, Cobb thinks. Knows.

Because he knows that Scott's final words were not simply his ego alone. He had been a good man. Young, reckless, but good. He'd just been a tad too loyal to his tired old marshal. That kind of thing bites far too many men in the back, and Scott is just another one on that fading list.

"You would've made a helluva marshal yourself, one day."

He still means it. Scott would have been incredible.

The intercom crackles without warning, and Cobb tenses straight out of his thoughts. His honed senses are struggling to adjust to the environment, still, not that it matters- he won't be here much longer. Because the copilot droid speaks up with the announcement of their arrival: "Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Coronet City spaceport.

"Please check once more that you are strapped in; there may be some turbulence as we break through Corellia's atmosphere. Thank you."

He's not as quick as he probably should be about locking the belts across his chest, but the damn things really are uncomfortable. At least to him. Especially when the edges dig into his chest with each lurch of the transport. But he's smart enough to know that getting thrown into the seat before him would be more unpleasant, so he locks himself in anyway. Throws an elbow on top of his bag to keep it in place, too.

His thoughts trail off, and he stares at the leather in front of him for a while, a globe of blues and greens and whites rising just outside the window. It's upon the ship before he knows it, the transport jolting with the aforementioned turbulence, and Cobb turns his head to look out at the sight- turns to look at the first planet he's to ever land on.

Corellia.

His breath is taken away; Corellia is a beautiful place, from above. The sky looks artificial, so deeply blue in comparison to the emptiness of Tatooine's, gray clouds smudged together across half of it, their edges light and vibrant beneath a hidden sun. But beneath it, the water…there's so much. More than Cobb's ever seen, ever drank in his life. The surface of the ocean is far smoother than in the tales he's heard, and it almost looks like a man could step on it.

Even the southern cityscape that the ship is headed towards, many of the gray buildings rising taller than Tatooine's cliffs…

Cobb's never seen anything like it, and he's in awe of it all.

Of course, that beauty just means that it's rotten at its core, but that's not something he's going to let himself think on at present- it'll be a problem for when he sets his own two feet on the ground.

The view below, he wants to soak in the sight of it as clearly as he can, something to take with him when he returns home after he's completed his mission; something to tell the people back in town, who will never take more than five steps from the furthest building. They'd like to hear of what he's seen in his absence, even if they don't yet know where he's gone. So, he keeps watch, his eyes memorizing the shapes of the clouds, the tiny ripples in the water. Because he will never step foot from Tatooine again, either, once he's back there.

"Where are you from, Coruscant?" Someone asks, and Cobb turns to the Weetooinian with a huff of laughter and the shake of his head.

"Tatooine."

And then he refocuses his attention past the clear wall between him and this foreign land, on the growing city not five minutes away. He says nothing more, nor does his companion, and he's alright with that; as nice as the exchange was, he's not here to talk. His purpose on Corellia runs far deeper than that.

There's a strange feeling in his chest as he acknowledges that, and it's not the atmospheric pressure:

He never thought he would get this far.

So far from Tatooine. This close to doing his kind justice, for avenging those who were birthed, worked, and starved to death in captivity. Because this is for them as much as it is for him. As much as it is for Bray. As much as it is for Freetown.

Cobb made it this far for all of Tatooine's slaves, and he's gonna see through the rest of this adventure for them, too. He has to.