8. Memories of Ash
"You left the Order and got involved in drug dealing?!"
"We can talk about this later," Ahsoka snapped and turned towards the station attendant, "do you have a blaster?"
Obi-Wan grimaced but did not protest her request.
The attendant shook his head. The small nametag on his jumpsuit identified him as Zorg.
"Look," Anakin said to him, "we'll protect you. But we need you to refuel the ship."
Zorg did not appear convinced.
"Guard him," Obi-Wan said, "Ahsoka and I will hold them off as long as we can. Don't let them catch sight of you."
Anakin glowered but did not argue with him, much to Obi-Wan's relief. Hopefully, the reminder that his bounty would cause far more problems than the Pyke's grudge against Ahsoka would keep him back. Anakin had only just begun to grow accustomed to the large, cumbersome prosthetics; his speed was not what it once was and Obi-Wan feared he would not last long against any of the trigger-happy Pykes.
"Ahsoka, is there any chance this can be resolved peacefully?"
She grimaced. "Not after I blew up their fortress on Oba Diah."
Obi-Wan refrained from face-palming. "We'll discuss this later," he decided and with a few, long-practiced hand signals, directed her in the opposite direction.
They split off, staying low behind the station consoles and stacks of rhydonium canisters, edging around the refueling platform, just barely avoiding the blaster fire. Hunkered down behind the farthest console, Obi-Wan held his hand out towards the Pykes, advancing over the series of walkways connecting their platforms, and concentrated.
A single 'misstep' caused one of the leading gang members to stumble over the edge of the durasteel grates, falling into the black void of space; and another; and another. But there were too many of them and before long, they were swarming the edges of their refueling platform, steadily advancing, blasters firing without mercy.
Obi-Wan's hand twitched towards his lightsaber once more, but he held off in time for Ahsoka to strike.
The lid to one of the rhydonium canisters was ripped open, the sound of plasteel shredding apart disguised under blaster fire. With a single Force push, starship fuel was spilling across the way, a black sludge―
The world was on fire and Obi-Wan was on Mustafar all over again.
He hit the ground with a resounding crack, the shockwave of the explosion blistering hot and choking the air from his lungs. Heat licked at his skin with sickening familiarity, smoke clogging up his airways, fire flaring in tall white columns, threatening to devour him; memories splintered across his mind, sharp and jagged, cutting through his psyche like a hot blade.
"Help me, master."
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan gasped, the weight of twin sabers tucked in his jacket suddenly crushing against his ribcage. Anakin's strangled voice reverberated in his mind; the memory of a lightsaber slicing apart flesh graying out the world around him.
"I have failed you."
The old words thrummed hotly in his chest, agonizing, burning his heart to ash.
The flames drew closer.
In the distance, someone screamed, "Obi-Wan!"
With a strangled cry, Obi-Wan stumbled to his feet, the world spinning around him, waves of heat and ash searing his eyes. He staggered forward, fire blasting at his back, pressing the collar of his jacket against his nose and mouth, eyes shot red. He struggled to reach their ship, its shape a hazy outline through the billowing smoke.
"Hurry!" he heard Ahsoka shout.
Blood roared in his ears and his vision narrowed to a single point.
―blinding, hot pain exploded across his left side―
Obi-Wan's head struck the edge of the ship's boarding ramp and he knew no more.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! :3