15 BBY
He's on his third Inverted Gargle-Blaster, letting the syfotoxin burn through his system, turning the drab, dirty cantina bright and beautiful, when the being approaches him. It's his monthly ritual, allowing himself to get intoxicated enough that he forgets everything else for a while. Forgets him. It's certainly not what a Jedi should or would do, but since when did that matter anymore? He gives a bitter laugh before he glances at the being again and startles.
It looks like a man. Normal clothing, if a bit nicer than usual for Tatooine.
It acts like a man. It smiles and nods and gives comments to passersby.
It feels like a black hole in the Force.
It's been four long, empty years since he's felt a Sith, and while this being doesn't feel exactly the same, it feels close enough that he grabs his lightsaber and readies to ignite it. They had finally found him. Perhaps this was the dreaded Jedi-hunter Darth Vader, out of his intimidating costume.
"None of that, now, General," it says, taking a seat right down beside him. He adjusts the lightsaber so it will ignite into the beings guts. "I'm sure I feel quite unsettling in that power of yours but I am not your enemy. I come to give you an offer. You may call me… Annatar. It means Lord of Gifts in a language far from this place and time."
Obi-Wan Kenobi stared for a long moment, before taking another sip, the citrus overtones covering the cloying bitterness of the isothane, and waited.
"I was told you were a loquacious one, and polite, but I see the times have changed you. Very well, let me make sure we won't be interrupted," Annatar tells him before snapping its fingers, and a wave of grey oozed out in ripples, the entire Cantina turning grey-scale and frozen in time. Yet the Force lay undisturbed, as if the laws of reality had not just been broken.
"What are you?" Obi-Wan asks. He feels… he feels a vague sense of familiarity, of dealing with incomprehensibly powerful beings before.
"I could be considered a god or devil, but most of all, I am one who offers and facilitates deals with important customers for the Company."
Deals. Certain older Jedi tales warn of beings offering deals, that the cost is never fully stated, and is always a price too far. Kenobi is curious none the less.
"What kind of deal?"
"One that would end up with you in the past of this universe at a time of your choosing, after you accomplish what I need you to accomplish."
Obi-Wan stiffened. He could sense the truth in the words, shining in the Force. He could return. He could prevent Anakin from… He could stop the clones from betraying the Jedi, he could stop Emperor Palpatine, he could save Padme, he could… he could save Satine. He could do it all, if he took a deal that surely would cost him greatly.
"I can see your interest. Let us discuss the specifics of how this will work, and see if you're still willing," Annatar says with distinct amusement. Annatar speaks of an endless multiverse, ever expanding and contracting, as universes die off or are killed. The organization it belongs to seeks to maintain the growth and prevent the destruction of universes, to expand their hold over the endless expanse. One such universe is 'Earth Bet', where he will be sent.
He will be required to bind three Companions and six Familiars to his cause, through the use of a simple stamp that resonated in the Force with power. The bindings will encourage loyalty, friendship and in the case of his Companions, romance, and despite his protests, the thoughts of Satine in his mind, the being will not be dissuaded.
With these nine selected, Obi Wan and his 'Retinue' will grow powerful enough to take on the alien, the Entity, that seeks the destruction of Earth Bet. Powerful enough to return and save the Jedi Order. He knows he should be saying no, denying this creature—he knows, in his heart, what he is agreeing to is wrong—but in the end, intoxicated and heartsick, he accepts despite everything he's heard. A shimmering silver portal appears before them, and Annatar gestures.
"It is time for you to make great changes, both in Earth Bet, and later, in the Corsuca Galaxy. I look forward to seeing how things play out, good General. And I sincerely hope you find happiness."
Obi-Wan Kenobi grimaces as he steps through the portal.
Feb 24th
The Force screams with danger, and Obi-Wan dodges, igniting his blue lightsaber, as a piece of rebar flies past him, cut in twain yet still moving. He is in a city at dawn, near a massive green space, alongside a slow-moving turquoise river. Buildings, half destroyed, surround the campus, and in the morning sky stands a giant, wing-covered naked woman, circled by a swirl of debris. Humans in colorful costumes fly alongside her and stand amongst cover, some firing strange energy from their hands, while others brought the fight to the flying woman, battering her with fists and kicks.
A persistent ringing in his ears makes it harder to concentrate, but he focuses on reaching out in the Force, and flinches at the fear and terror that fills the city. Information he never knew he had floods his mind, and he realizes what is going on; an Endbringer attack. The woman is the Simurgh, an Endbringer, an alien construct meant to cause chaos and destruction on this planet, and the people that attack her are capes, humans given extraordinary powers by the alien Entity that seeks the planet's destruction. This is one such attack, and Annatar has dropped him straight in the middle of it.
Obi-Wan leaps into the air, somersaulting over a barrage of energy blasts that cross his path. His lightsaber slices through the air, deflecting projectiles that hurtled past him and cutting through debris.
The Simurgh screeches, her piercing cry reverberating through the city. Buildings crumble as her wings flap, stirring up a maelstrom of destruction. Capes soar through the chaos, their powers on full display, battling against the malevolent force. Obi-Wan charges forward, his robes billowing behind him, determination etched on his face. It has been years since he last experienced battle, but he is no quivering rookie. Let this Simurgh taste a lightsaber, and see how she likes it, he thinks. He weaves through the carnage, avoiding falling debris and evading errant blasts of energy. The ringing in his ears intensifies, threatening to consume his focus, but he pushes the feeling of pressure away.
With a swift motion, Obi-Wan unleashes a powerful Force push, sending a wave of debris hurtling back, and leaping into the air at the Endbringer. He capitalizes on the moment, spinning and slashing, his lightsaber a blur of azure brilliance. The Simurgh screeches in pain as the blade tears great rents in her flesh.
But the battle rages on, relentless and unforgiving. He must keep moving, always moving, the Force tells him. Obi-Wan dodges a barrage of energy blasts, flipping over a crumbling building. He lands gracefully, his senses heightened by the Force. The fear and terror in the city pulse around him, urging him to fight harder. The information in his mind tells him that if she isn't pushed back, the Simurgh will turn the city into a madhouse.
Once more he leaps to engage the Simurgh with his brilliant blue lightsaber, fighting an embodiment of chaos, a celestial being gone rogue. Obi-Wan leaps into action, his lightsaber slicing through the air with blinding speed. He joins the brave fighters, their determination etched on their faces.
The city trembles under the weight of destruction as the woman's Scream unleash a storm of devastation. Crumbling buildings rain debris upon the streets below, crushing capes and smashing cars.
Obi-Wan's Jedi instincts guide his every move. He twirls, parries, and strikes, his lightsaber a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. With each swing, he cleaves through the air, cutting down debris and deflecting rogue energy blasts.
The Force pulses through him, amplifying his strength and agility. He leaps effortlessly, soaring through the air, landing with precision to deliver devastating blows. His allies-in-battle fight alongside him, their powers combining to create a symphony of resistance against the towering menace of the Endbringer.
The river's turquoise waters seem ripple with fear, mirroring the intensity of the battle. Obi-Wan's heart pounds in his chest, his senses heightened by the danger that surrounds him. He feels the city's desperation, its plea for salvation. He cannot deny it, cannot let himself feel what would happen to this city if he did not save it. And it's been so long since he's had a good battle.
As the fight rages on, Obi-Wan's mind becomes a vessel of knowledge. He taps into the Force, unlocking secrets and ancient wisdom buried deep within him. He understands the woman's origins as a creature of conflict, her thirst for destruction, and the imminent threat she poses to this planet. He understands what she truly is; a puppet and a farce, any damage done to her it surface level only.
With a surge of determination, Obi-Wan channels his newfound knowledge into a decisive strike at the wing where her core should be. His lightsaber cuts through the chaos, aiming for the heart of the celestial being. The air crackles with energy as the blade connects, sending shockwaves rippling through the sky. It does not cut through, not quite.
The woman's monstrous form trembles, her power waning. The swirling debris around her dissipates, and the humans in colorful costumes seize the opportunity to launch a final assault. Their combined might overwhelms the weakened Endbringer, forcing her to retreat.
Silence falls over the city as the battle subsides. Obi-Wan stands amidst the ruins, his breath ragged, but his spirit unwavering. The Force whispers its approval, a gentle reminder of the never-ending struggle between light and darkness.
A woman in a black and grey costume, a cape billowing around her with a metal helmet revealing brown eyes, approached him with a considering look. "You did very well, despite being an image cape. Tell me, what's your name?"
She felt like a withered, blackened root in the Force, and her emotions felt distantly cold.
"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service, my lady. And you are?"
"Alexandria. You don't recognize me?"
"Oh! Well, it is lovely to meet you, Alexandria," he lied.
Alexandria, the head of Cauldron, a secretive organization with the goal of killing the Entity by any means necessary. A killer, and a woman who will do anything to save humanity, even if it dooms herself. There's something to be said for that. She has tainted herself for the most noblest of goals.
Alexandria looked and felt less than amused. "I get it, your power and look fits the identity perfectly, but what's your actual cape name? You did good today, real good. The Protectorate could use a good hero like that."
"Ah, perhaps, perhaps. I intend to make my way to Brockton Bay. Perhaps I shall apply there." After he handles a few things. "I am, was, and shall be Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Alexandria gave a slight frown. "Obi-Wan Kenobi is a fictional character. You are not him."
He felt certain he wouldn't be able to get her to agree with his very real nature, so he let it be. "Very well, call me the Patrician, if I must have a cape name. Anakin called me it, enough." A shudder went through him, at the thought of his dead padwan.
"The Patrician it is. You did well, Patrician. And the Brockton Bay Protectorate would be lucky to have you."
He considered pressing the stamp down on her bare arm. If any deserved enslavement by subtle mindwarping, it would be this woman, given the massive amounts of brainwashing Cauldron did. Still a little drunk, he told himself, as he went ahead and grabbed Alexandria's arm, pressing down with the Stamp.
"I really am him, you know. I don't know why you think I'm fictional, and I'm not keen to find out."
"Why are you touching me?"
"You're distant in the Force. I'm trying to get a sense for your emotions."
"Let go of me, now," she said sternly.
So he does, his job done. One Companion down, two to go. He has let Sith into his bed before, but not into his heart. He isn't sure Alexandria would ever get there, but it will be an interesting journey.
A pause.
He felt a flash of hot sweat, and anxiety run through him, as he realizes what he just did. Once again he reasons it as being deserving, but it feels sour in his mind. God, he just made someone his slave. He shivers.
Alexandria looks at him funny. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, apologies, this was my first Endbringer battle. I am simply unsettled."
She looked at him with some disdain. "I would appreciate it if you did not touch me without permission again. I have other matters to attend to, but if you return to the Red Hill encampment, volunteers will get you where you need to go."
"I apologize for my actions, Alexandria. It was not my intention to cause any discomfort or offense. I will respect your boundaries from now on."
Alexandria's expression softens slightly, though her guardedness remains. "See that you do, Patrician. We have enough battles to fight without creating unnecessary conflicts among ourselves."
Obi-Wan bows his head in acknowledgment. "Understood, Alexandria. I will take my leave and make my way to the Red Hill encampment. Thank you for your guidance."
With that, Obi-Wan turns and walks away, his mind filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He questions the morality of his recent actions, grappling with the realization that he had just forced someone into permanent servitude. The weight of his decisions weighs heavily on him, and he vows to reflect and learn from this experience.
As he heads towards the encampment, Obi-Wan contemplates the never-ending struggle between light and darkness. He understands that the fight against evil is not always black and white, and sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. But he also knows that he must remain vigilant in preserving his own integrity and avoiding the path of darkness.
Deep in thought, Obi-Wan continues his journey, hoping to find clarity and redemption.
Obi-Wan walks into the open-air tent he was directed to, a group of capes standing around speaking quietly.
"Woah, look at the Jedi, puppy! Bro, your costume is on-point, and I got to see that lightsaber," says the man in red body armor, elbowing his companion, a woman in black with glowing blue circuitry designs.
"Don't be rude. Sorry about him, I'm Battery, and this is Assault."
"You can call me Obi-Wan, or the Patrician. Alexandria made me choose a 'cape' name," Kenobi replies, swishing his robe.
Assault grins. "You look exactly like Kenobi, in the face and everything. Beards a little scraggly, and you look a couple years rougher, but you really lucked out. What's your power?"
Why do people know who he is, yet insist he isn't Obi-Wan? It was a matter he would need to address and soon. "I have the Force at my side. And your power?"
"So telekinesis? Limited precognition? Emotion sensing? Which part?" asks Assault excitedly.
"Which part? I have all of those powers and more," Obi-Wan clarifies. "The Force is powerful and multi-faceted, its uses endless as the stars in the galaxy."
The grin on Assaults face is incandescent and his joy and amusement warbles pleasantly in the Force.
"Man, I think I love you. You're so committed to the bit. I'm a kinetic manipulator; get punched? Take the energy and punch pack twice as hard. I can store it, though, like a battery, and use it to bounce around, not just hit and kick harder."
Obi-Wan considers the value of such a power. That would certainly be a useful one to copy, if he joins the Protectorate.
"And your power, Battery?"
"I store energy when I stand still, allowing me to use it for a burst of speed and strength."
Obi-Wan considered the two, sensed the connection they shared, deep and strong. "You're a pair, aren't you? Your powers complement each other very well. I can sense a connection."
Assault's smile softens, and he nods. "Me and puppy patrol together, keeping the streets safe and beating Nazi ass. And yeah, she can charge up a beating, transfer it to me, and I go bouncing around, sending mooks flying. It's kind of our signature move," he said proudly.
Anakin would love—He shook his head and let go of the thought.
"But we really shouldn't be hogging a great Jedi like yourself," Assault continued, amused. "Let's introduce you to the gang that came to Canberra."
Obi-Wan meets Miss Militia, a beautiful woman with a military flair, whose power involved the creation of any weapon, Dauntless, an armored man with a tired smile, whose power has him imbuing items and turning them into objects of power, and Triumph, an exhausted young man in the costume of some maned creature, whose power involves him shouting quite loudly. Those were the Protectorate heroes that had come; Miss Militia and Dauntless to fight the Endbringer and Assault, Battery and Triumph to work Search and Rescue.
Dauntless asks, "Did you make your lightsaber, or did you have a Tinker commission it?"
"Like all Jedi, I created my lightsaber myself. It is a personal weapon and tool."
"So you're a Tinker, too?" he clarifies.
"No, not in the usual sense, but I can build a lightsaber, with the appropriate tools," Obi-Wan clarifies.
"You must be a Focal Tinker, then," Dauntless decides. "Limited in scope, building the same object over again. Makes sense for a grab-bag cape."
Obi-Wan gives a tired chuckle. "If that makes you feel better."
Assault also brought him over to another group of three heroes, New Wave.
"I'm Sarah, but call me Lady Photon while in costume," says a gorgeous blonde with stunning blue eyes, smiling kindly at him.
The man next to her steps forward and puts an arm around her. "And I'm Manpower, but sometimes people also call me Neil," he jokes.
"Panacea. I'm Amy," said the tired-looking girl, an aura of depression orbiting around her.
Panacea. The world's most powerful healer, and a girl close to a breakdown. In love with her sister, and pushed by her power to do incredibly awful things. One very bad day away from unleashing a plague. It'd almost be justified for him to bind her, to prevent her from doing what she could do to this planet, but he doesn't, as he takes her hand, and bends over to kiss it. He's done enough, today.
Instead, with a flexing wave of the Light Side, he banishes the miasma of despair that surrounds the young healer, as he kisses her hand.
"Enchanted, truly, to meet you," he says in a mildly seductive tone. "You are a true hero, amongst heroes."
Panacea startles, eyes widening with a blush as she realizes the scene in front of her, while Lady Photon and Assault look on in amusement.
"You may call me Obi-Wan, or the Patrician, whichever is more comfortable."
They go through the familiar routine, performing the entire song and dance about his name. Neil's face lights up with amusement, a joyous radiance that fills the room. As they wrap up, the air is filled with excitement and the sound of laughter. But then, it's time to prepare for departure, for Strider never waits. The room becomes a whirlwind of activity, the scent of anticipation hangs in the air.
Obi-Wan gave a sigh of relief as a portal stood against the wall of the room the PRT had provided him. He stepped through, into multi-level suite for a Jedi in the Temple, complete with a meditation room, plantlife everywhere, and soft couches and benches for relaxing. And the kitchen came fully stocked, even with alcohol.
He pours himself some isothane and cuts it with water and ice and a squeeze of lemon, turning the liquid milky blue.
He takes a sip and feels the burn warm his belly. He is trapped on a pre-Hyperdrive human planet invaded by secret aliens in the form of brain parasites. His goal is to kill the head parasite, the Entity, and free these people from certain doom. Unfortunately, he has no way of knowing how besides through sheer power. He needs to bind three women to his heart, and bind six others as his friends, via a stamp, to form a Retinue of powerful capes capable of addressing the threat of this Entity.
In less than three days, one of the heads of an interdimensional conspiracy to save the world will be his slave-wife. The choice, made rashly, might prove to be a mistake, but if there is anyone who has some idea on how to accomplish his goal, it is Alexandria and Cauldron. In the meantime, though, Obi-Wan took the 'DVDs' that Assault slipped him after he'd confirmed Obi-Wan had never watched 'Star Wars', and slid the first one in; the Phantom Menace it is called.
He is confused and disturbed to watch scenes from his very real life, playing out on the screen. His heart burns every time he sees Maul. And the tears flow when his Master dies, again. He's definitely drunk. The second film is called Attack of the Clones, an ominous title. He watches it in a daze. No wonder they find him so amusing, he thought, he's a part of a schlocky action-vid trilogy. They must think him a madman or a fool.
He almost doesn't watch Revenge of the Sith. He can guess perfectly well what will happen. To know everything was a ruse, a play by the Sith… He had… he had wondered about the Younglings, but he didn't think… He threw up on the table, milky blue. He hasn't eaten all day. He doesn't pause the movie to clean up, he knows what will be said by heart, for the day has played out in his head for years. The fight is a spectacle, even if the lightsaber combat is only a fifth as accurate or beautiful as it could be, and the ending as heart-wrenching as it was in the moment. Obi-Wan still wakes up sometimes, unable to believe he just left Anakin there to die. But he did, and time can only move on.
But the movie doesn't end there. It keeps going, and Obi-Wan watches in horror as it reveals a singular truth that resonates in the Force. Anakin died. Anakin died and Darth Vader was born. The Jedi-killer, the hunter that spent the last four years mopping up any sign up Jedi from the galaxy. The reason Luke and Obi-Wan are even on that kriffing backwards and distant planet.
There's a second set of movies. Lost, confused, worried, Obi-Wan puts A New Hope on, and watches in shame.
He never even tries to teach Luke, until the kid is far too old.
He's old, worn, tired. Is that all he has to hope for?
And then, he's dead, Darth Vader striking him down.
He turns it off at that point, certain that only pain and suffering lies ahead. There is no way Luke, untrained and his teacher dead, is going to be the renewal of the Jedi Order. At best, maybe he kills his father—what had Obi-Wan been thinking sending Luke like a proton torpedo against his father—at worst, Luke falls too.
That's what everyone thinks, when they see him? The failure, who failed his padwan, and failed his padwan's son? Light of the Force, that was shameful, embarrassing. He returns to his PRT room, overwhelmingly tired.
In his PRT room, Obi-Wan collapses onto his bed, feeling the weight of his failures pressing down on him. The events of the movies replay in his mind, tormenting him with the choices he made and the consequences they brought. He had thought he was doing what was best for the galaxy, but now he sees the truth. His actions, or lack thereof, led to the rise of Darth Vader and the destruction of the Jedi Order.
As he lies there, a mix of exhaustion and despair washes over him. He wonders if there is any redemption left for him, any chance to make amends for his mistakes. But deep down, he fears that it may be too late. The Jedi Order is gone, and he is left alone, burdened by the weight of his failures.