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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags.

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!”

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence.

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered.

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach.

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.”

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end.

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit.

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them.

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out.

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing.

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it.

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing.

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow.

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I have to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it.

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know.

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply.

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...”

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it.

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance”

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply.

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch.

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away.

----

Part VIII

#star wars #potentially triggering #self harm #attempted suicide #blood #graphic depictions of injury #violence #character is not actually suicidal but is severely divorced from reality due to space wizard plot device #suicidal misunderstanding au #my au #star wars au no 27 #angst #obi wan kenobi needs a hug #KRIFF this was intense to write #i need a hug #jeez #story was supposed to go emotional catharsis Healing TRAUMA healing Emotional Catharsis but i may have played myself with the middle bit #hope you enjoy :)#or at least suffer with me

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kaminobiwan · 4 years

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cannonball

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Throwing all caution out the window, Obi-Wan dives headfirst into a long awaited confession. At least, he tries to. The universe seems to leave an obstacle for him at every turn, but Obi-Wan is nothing if not persistent.

a/n: Oh my goodness, this has got to be my proudest piece. It was one of the victims of the incident™ and I had to rewrite the whole thing from scratch, but I actually think the final version came out better than the original! The title is inspired from the summary of my previous fic Indulgence, but this one is actually the cornerstone of all of my jedi!reader x Obi-Wan fics: every one of those has stemmed from this storyline idea that has been living in my head for so long. Suffice it to say this is THE fic that I have wanted to write from the beginning — my pièce de résistance, if you will.

I hope you enjoy :-) p.s. here's my taglist form

In all the years he’s known you, Obi-Wan swears he only ever started to lie to you during the Clone Wars.

In his defense, he’d been lying to himself, too. Forcibly crushing down his much-deeper-than-platonic favor for you in the hopes that it’d disappear, forgotten in his darkest recesses, was exhausting in more ways than one. One’s mind can only be dishonest with the heart for so long.

But after more than a year and a half into the fighting, he’d felt too many times the choking fear that he’d never see you again — be it because of his death or yours.

So he’d given up in repressing his emotions, and let himself feel. In the precious minutes of reprieve amidst the horrors of combat, sometimes the only thing that could console his jaded and war-torn soul was the memory of you.

He wonders how he managed to continue for as long as he did before allowing himself to consciously love — it was well into the conflict when he came to terms with it. If he closes his eyes, he can easily remember the exact moment.

Geonosis. His return to the forsaken planet.

The chaos of it all had been staggering. He’d barely been able to hear Cody’s warning before he was shot out of the sky, and the crash that claimed the lives of nearly everyone in the transport had been just the beginning of the hellscape he’d endured.

There was an instant where he’d been sure he was going to die on the field, seconds before the remainder of his battalion was about to be overrun.

He remembers the gunfire surrounding him, piercing the falling bodies of his men as he laid helpless and injured. Cody’s shouting amidst the mayhem. The stabbing pain of his ribs that had blackened the edges of his vision. The dirt that had caked his face and armor. The sheer amount of it had been maddening.

And yet, as the bugs had closed in around him and he’d forced himself to his feet to meet his imminent end, the only thing that had run through his mind was...you.

Your name, your face. The dissatisfaction at the fact that the last time he’d seen it, it’d been distorted, static and blue from the holo you’d shared with Master Unduli. The way you’d hidden a smile as she interrupted his competitive jeering with Anakin ahead of the battle.

At least he’d made you laugh, he’d thought, and with that, he’d ignited his lightsaber.

And then the reinforcements had come. And he’d been left to sink back down on shaking knees with the image of you burning in his brain until the concerned presence of Ahsoka materialized at his side.

He hadn’t had any time to process the stunning realization that he was in love with you. He’d scarcely had a second to gather himself before he was already spouting a revised attack plan to take the droid factory, reverting to autopilot the way he always did when he assumed his identity as a war general.

But the universe had seemed intent on not letting him escape it, regardless. Just days later, he’d saved your life — you’d arrived at Point Rain with Luminara only to be taken by the Geonosian queen to be turned into a mindless, shivering zombie.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that, you know.” You’d chirped, while tapping his nose teasingly.

“What? The stunt with the worms? You know I wouldn’t have actually let it go up your nose.”

“No, for disobeying an order to fall back and leave us behind.”

His heart had clenched at your words. Never in a million years would he abandon you if he thought there was the smallest chance of saving you. He knew that, finally.

But the fear of losing the only life he’d ever known outweighed the fear of losing you, and he’d settled with yearning for you from afar. It would be enough, he’d convinced himself. He refused to burden you with the knowledge that he’d been pining helplessly for you for Force knows how long, and ruin the careers in the Order you’d both worked so hard to construct.

That was, until now.

Until he’d seen Satine Kryze again, after decades apart, and she’d declared her surviving affection for him from all those years ago, Anakin witnessing the whole thing. After he’d seen the weight of her unspoken truth upon her shoulders. And although he regretted that he couldn’t grant her the relief from her wanting, he’d resolved that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days the same way — slowly being crushed by his own supression. Even if his feelings were unrequited.

So he’d decided that he’d tell you, Jedi Code be damned. He wouldn’t hold it in any longer.

As the Coronet docked on the landing pad where the Chancellor was waiting, he’d been jittery with anticipation. That, and disoriented from the events that had transpired on the way there. He’d blubbered uncharacteristically when Satine had caressed his face in farewell, Anakin watching delightedly at his back. Then, as he’d turned to find a speeder to make his way to you in the Temple, the universe had yet again toyed with him — you were there, appearing on the platform out of nowhere like a summoned spirit, but not making your way towards him.

No, you were walking straight towards Satine.

You didn’t seem to notice him or Anakin behind you, welcoming the Duchess with practiced cordiality and leading her to the airbus where the other Senators were boarding, glaringly obvious that you’d been assigned on escort duty. Obi-Wan held back a groan. Of all the Jedi.

Anakin had practically collapsed in hilarity, a hand heavy on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Master,” he crowed. “I finally get that one.”

———

You’re perched high up on a viewing balcony of the Senate Chamber when he finds you, a little before Satine is set to address the Republic.

“You’re certainly off your game today,” you exhale an amused laugh as he skids to a stop, attempting to compose his appearance as he approaches you. “Anakin told me all about what happened on the Coronet en route to Coruscant.”

His blasted Padawan. Obi-Wan could strangle him.

“I didn’t teach him to gossip,” he grumbles, coming to stand beside you. He'd run the whole way here to catch you, but his rapid heartbeat isn’t from physical exertion. You’re as tranquil as ever, though, and your presence relaxes him despite.

You give a snort. “Maybe not intentionally. He definitely learned how to operate outside the lines of the Code by watching you.” He knows you’re poking fun at him, but his breath catches at the mention of the doctrine that dictates you both.

But he’s set on telling you. Today.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something similar.”

You turn to the Chancellor’s podium as his voice reverberates through the hall, but Obi-Wan’s hearing is fixed on you. “Of course, Obi, but it’ll have to wait until later. I think your friend is about to speak.”

He opens his mouth to reply, to bring your attention back to him, but you’re focused on the proceedings. He doesn’t like the jovial way you say friend, as if you’re almost happy about it, but he forces his gaze to follow yours as Satine begins her address.

Which, of course, goes terribly wrong. Because nothing seems to want to work out today.

Even your usually optimistic features are set with a grim expression as a testimonial from Satine’s own Deputy Minister slights her leadership, and the Senate turns against her. As her repulsorpod retreats from the center of the chamber, you cast concerned eyes towards him.

“Go,” you urge him, and he’s frozen between staying or leaving. “She needs you. I’ll buy you some time with the security detail.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to depart from your side, words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he knows you’re right. He nods at you gratefully before chasing after Satine.

———

He tries again in the evening, while you’re between shifts of guarding the Duchess’ guest quarters.

“She seems...interesting,” you nod to the Mandalorian guard that passes by to take your post, speaking low enough that your conversation is relatively private. “She certainly had much to say about you.”

Obi-Wan wanted to scream. It seems everyone had been able to get you alone except for him. “I told you about that year on Mandalore after I came back,” he protests, and you shoot him a pitiful wink.

“Not the way she described it.”

Before he can demand just what Satine had let on, the sound of rapid footfalls draws both of your attention to the guard you’d greeted earlier. “Master Jedi! The Duchess is gone. We don’t know for how long.”

You curse lightly and rush down the hall to follow the Mandalorian, and Obi-Wan is about to do the same when his comm buzzes on his wrist.

He sighs in frustration. He knows exactly who it is.

———

After he’d relayed the untampered evidence to Padmé in time for the Senate convocation and Satine had been released from custody, Obi-Wan makes his way to your quarters in a determined stride. The past couple days were nothing short of a wild Bantha ride from start to finish, and he was tired of tiptoeing around you.

As he raises a shaking hand to knock outside your room, he stalls in a moment of fleeting hesitation. The impending metamorphose of your relationship nags at his brain, and he pauses. What he’s about to do will indelibly transform the dynamic between you, for better or for worse. It dawns on him that there won’t be any going back from this.

He hears your voice from a distant memory of late nights in the Temple gardens, basking in the light of the stars. Of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that.

So be it.

He stands as tall as he can manage, and knocks resolutely.

You open the door looking ready for bed, clad in a billowing camisole, face dewy from the refresher and hair still damp. He smiles at you as you open it wider. “Hello, Obi.”

He shuffles inside, meekly nodding in apology of his interruption. “I thought I’d come see you.”

Like routine, you’re already heating up a pot of water for him as you search for his favorite tea in your cupboard. Ever so thoughtful. His heart flutters beneath his robes. “I’m glad to see you found the Duchess,” you chime lightheartedly, “I had a hunch when you disappeared earlier.”

His hand finds the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t make you look too bad, being on protection and all.”

You shake your head dismissively. “I was just glad to hear she was safe. You helped save her people from Republic occupation.”

Altruistic honesty radiates off of you, and his chest drops, in a good way. You care, and it’s written all over your actions.

You’re the best person he knows. Without question.

For a split second, Obi-Wan wonders if he even deserves you. But he pushes the thought in the back of his mind for later, hell-bent on not letting anything get in the way of what he wants to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You face him fully, abandoning the tea as you take in the seriousness of his posture. He sucks in a stunted breath.

“It’s about —”

“I know.”

He startles, momentum lost as you interrupt him suddenly. Your gaze is penetrating. “What?” He asks dumbly.

“It’s about Satine, isn’t it?” Your bare arm comes up across your body to hold the other, and Obi-Wan finds himself staring at the way your too-long pants brush the floor as you sway to one side. Your sleeping shirt brushes the middle of your thighs, and he realizes how utterly small you seem in the moment. “You feel the same way about her that you used to.”

His eyes snap up to yours at your words, mind reeling. It takes him an eternity to force out a single word.

“...No.”

You tilt your head confusedly, and Obi-Wan wants to pinch himself to test if this is some sort of stress-induced hallucination. “No? You do know she’s positively infatuated with you, don’t you?”

“No, I —” he shuts his eyes desperately. “I mean, yes, I know, but I don’t —” he breaks off abruptly, opening his eyes at you with newfound willpower. Blast it.

Obi-Wan crosses the room in three steps, reaching his hands out to cradle you delicately as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

He hears your breath stutter, shock just about vibrating off of you, but in the next second your eyelashes graze his cheeks as you close your eyes and lean into him. His heart pounds in crazed gratification, and Obi-Wan feels downright dizzy from the sensation. He’s going to faint, he’s going to die right here in your arms —

Your hands find the top of his chestplate, fingers curling against it, but after a beat of his body singing with joy, he feels you apply the smallest pressure on his armor. You detach your lips from his slowly, and he blinks dazedly at you when you pull away. Disbelief paints your frame.

“Obi, what —”

“I love you,” he says quickly, hands still on either side of your face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you. For so long.” One of your hands reaches up to clasp his own against your cheek. “I know that this goes against everything we’ve ever been taught, and you must be confused. I’m sorry.” He breaks off for a second, eyebrows creasing, because he’s not sorry. He could never be sorry for what he’s just done, not with the feeling of your lips still rippling in tingles through his brain. “But I had to tell you. I just...couldn’t go on without you knowing.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you flounder in his confession, and he studies you with more intensity than he’s felt in ages. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything about you, offhandedly concentrating to memorize every tiny detail. He’ll relive that kiss a thousand times over for the rest of his life if it’s the last one he’ll get.

“I — I don’t know what to say,” you manage to let out, and he presses his forehead to yours before releasing you. Say you love me, his heart cries. But Obi-Wan pushes the sentiment away.

“It’s alright,” he promises gently. You stare at him as he squeezes the hand that’s still holding his. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Obi-Wan, I —”

Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by a loud knock from outside, and the way you jerk back from him pricks at his emotions. You quickly pad to the door, opening it a crack as he attempts to conceal himself from your unexpected visitor.

“Sorry to bother you so late, Master,” Anakin’s voice fills the air, and Obi-Wan shrinks further into the shadows. “I’m just checking in before I leave for Vanquor. I wanted to make sure you’re still available to train Ahsoka while I’m gone?”

It takes you a little to formulate a response, your eyes still wide. “Yes — of course, Anakin, always.” You attempt to shut the door, but Anakin speaks up before you can.

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you for some advice as well, if you don’t mind.”

You can’t look at Obi-Wan without giving him away, so he sends a subtle wave of reassurance your way, hoping you pick up on it.

The tension releases from your shoulders, and you nod at his old student. “I’d be happy to. Give me a bit to get ready,” you gesture behind you, “and I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Anakin must nod in return, because you close the door without another word. You reach up to grab your outer robes from where they’re hung on the wall, and turn to him with a tormented expression.

Go, it’s his turn to coax you as he mouths the word silently. It’s alright.

Your eyes are shining with emotion that he can’t quite read in the dim light, but eventually you slip on your cloak and shoes and open the door once more. With one last lingering glimpse at him in the corner, you disappear into the hall where Anakin is waiting.

As he feels your presence dwindling away, he sends a final thought into the vacant room, more to himself and the aching emptiness of the Force than to you.

I love you.

#*DROPS THIS AND RUNS*#rini writes #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #i'm so excited to finally post this one it's been in my drafts forever #THE DRAMA!#don’t imagine the gif as his face after you leave just DON’T

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boonki · 3 years

Note

Kiss prompts: no. 48? 🥰🥰

48. kisses with trembling lips from these prompts!

HI FRIEND HOPE YOURE READY TO BE SAD

this takes place right after the deception/rako hardeen arc, right after obi-wan gets his real face back. because what the FUCK was that whole arc. anyways, hope you’re having a wonderful day! thank you for the ask ❤️❤️ here you go love:

______

Anakin can hardly feel the sharp edges of the chair beneath him, his anguish and rage drowning out his senses as he waits for Obi-wan to return to their quarters.

Nothing has changed, of course. Anakin hadn’t had the heart to move his stained and loved mug, his inherited and half-dead plants, his discarded robes, and treasured books, rare and precious, much like their owner. He felt a pang of solidarity for them: he, too, was one of Obi-wan’s forgotten things, abandoned in death.

When Obi-wan opens that door, it’ll be like he never left.

Except that’s not quite true: how can Anakin even begin to explain what havoc Obi-wan’s wreaked on his heart?

The kitchen is sterile, devoid of Anakin’s habitual mess, and poorly lit. He doesn’t want to face Obi-wan in the light; he’d rather be able to hide his grief in the shoulder of his dear friend, the shadow, who has seen so many of Anakin’s hot, quivering tears. Only the emergency lights that backlight the sink have been left on, solely because Anakin can’t turn them off without tripping the alarms. The place glows a bleak, navy blue, like the rain that falls from a weeping sky.

Their door creeps open, hesitant. The face that follows is so familiar Anakin can’t help the minuscule gasp that rips out of his throat.

“Anakin?” Obi-wan asks, genuinely surprised. Guilt laces through every feature, tugging on upturned eyebrows, pleading eyes, and pressed lips, pulling his entire body taunt.

“What, did you think I’d be asleep?” Anakin scoffs, malevolent.

Obi-wan doesn’t respond, but the downturn of his mouth tells him the truth: he did think Anakin would be sleeping.

“How could you do that to me?” Anakin whispers, each word violent, a dagger that Anakin wants to tear into Obi-wan with. He’s holding onto his rage like it’s the only thing keeping him together, and in a way, it is. If he lets go, all the grief and yearning will come pouring through and empty him out completely.

Obi-wan closes the door and treads lightly over to Anakin, pulling out a chair and taking a nervous seat next to him, knees close enough to touch. His face is cast in shades of blue from the emergency lights, full of sorrow.

“It was wrong of me. Please forgive me.”

Anakin takes in his apology, but there’s so much anger left, a sickness he needs to spew before he can heal.

“Obi-wan, I”—he whimpers, emotion clogging his throat—“I held your dead body. I grieved for you. I watched them bury you.” His nose stings with unshed tears, vision going blurry. “And for what? So you could...could use me in some plan? I mean, how did you think I would feel? Huh?”

Obi-wan looks anywhere but his face, studying the fine grain of their standard issue tabletop.

Anakin has been sitting still up until this point, hands in his lap, but now he turns to Obi-wan, shifting in his seat so that their knees are interlaced. He leans into the man’s space, and with each inch closer, the sharp tendrils of fury melt into the all-encompassing ache of heartbreak and suffering. Of longing. Of regret. Of a keen and simple yearning for more.

Or, blending them all together, the messy and complicated condition of unrequited love.

He’s waited too long to tell Obi-wan, and has learned the hard way that the regret of unspoken feelings is a ravenous beast, waiting to devour the hopeless.

“And I never got to tell you that I loved you.” He corrects himself: “That I love you.” With shaking hands, he ghosts his palms over Obi-wan’s cheeks, cupping his face. “Do you know how much that haunted me?”

Obi-wan’s eyes are blown wide, and he’s holding perfectly still, his lips parted in disbelief. When he doesn’t respond, Anakin takes the opportunity to skim his fingers over Obi-wan’s forehead, into his hairline, over the curves of his ears, into the soft skin of his lips. He runs his palms down Obi-wan’s shoulders, his athletic and sturdy arms, and into the calloused skin of his hands, where he holds tight. Obi-wan’s fingers fold around his: their lifeline.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” He says to Obi-wan’s hands, to himself.

He hears Obi-wan swallow and breathe in through his nose.

“I thought you wouldn’t…” Obi-wan trails off, his voice tight with emotion. “I thought you didn’t…”

“What? Care?” Anakin looks up at Obi-wan with leaking eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

Obi-wan feebly shakes his head, and breathes out his response. “Notice.”

Anakin just stares at him, looking from one eye to the other as Obi-wan formulates the rest of his thought. The cool air swims like a pool of blue between them, the somber lighting paling Obi-wan’s skin out.

“I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

The entirety of Anakin’s face crumbles at the thought. But before he can answer, Obi-wan continues:

“I didn’t think I was important to you anymore. You’re not my padawan—you don’t need an old man like me anymore.” His voice cracks, and for the first time since Anakin was a child, he sees water pool in the corners of Obi-wan’s eyes, glistening, staining the murky whites a painful red. A droplet escapes onto his lower lashes, and traces over the curve of his cheek.

Anakin is heartbroken, indignant, and devastated all at once. He abandons his chair in favor of straddling Obi-wan’s thighs, bringing his hands up to Obi-wan’s face again. With trembling lips and tears, he peppers soft kisses to the lines of Obi-wan’s features: the salty, tear-stained crinkle of his eyes, the worried creases in his forehead, the edges of his wobbling lips.

“Of course I need you,” he keens. “I’ve always needed you.” He rests his forehead against Obi-wan’s, closing his eyes. “I’ll need you as long as I live.”

Obi-wan takes a few breaths, his exhales hot on Anakin’s lips. “Oh,” he says, softly.

Anakin closes the distance and kisses him deeply, the feeling of Obi-wan’s pliant lips a salve to Anakin’s hurts. It’s barely a start to what Anakin wants to do with him, but he pulls back and instead gathers Obi-wan up in his arms, cradling the back of his head in one hand, shuffling his hips forwards so that he’s completely enveloping Obi-wan’s torso in his own. They melt together, Obi-wan threading his arms around Anakin’s waist and squishing his face into the hard space of Anakin’s shoulder.

“I love you, Obi-wan. Never do that to me again.” He mumbles into Obi-wan’s hair, feeling like he might crack under the weight of his own heart, his own love. It’s so much, and he’s had to carry it alone for so long.

“I love you too, dear one. And I’m so sorry.” Obi-wan confesses.

And in each other’s arms, Anakin sees the path forward; he’s been lost in the desert, stumbling around for a future, ready to hit the hard sand and crumble to dust, but now he sees Obi-wan on the horizon, and he’s running, slipping, bounding towards the man as if he held life in his hands. The terrain might be rocky, forsaken, depleted, but together, they’ll make it out okay.

Because Obi-wan is still alive, folded neatly into Anakin’s arms, resting against and inside of his beating heart, forever, where he’s always belonged and always will remain.

#obikin #boonki writes #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #swcw #sw: tcw #deception arc #two prompts answered in one day? more likely than you think #those episodes fucked me up #like really what were they going for there if not obikin #anyways #i wont rant in the tags #star wars #fanfic #writing

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zaptrapp · 3 years

Text

Ea’s Bad Batch Rant -ep 1

Welcome to this part of Tumblr where, after I watch each BB episode, I’ll give you my detailed (yeah lmao as if) analysis and emotional ramble. SPOILERS AHEAD!! Let’s gooo (this is gonna be a long one, 70 minutes of ep!!):

First of all HOW DARE THEY. Filoniiiiii.

I was NOT expecting to start with a mission right before Order 66 are you fucking kidding me? I immediately went “Nope, not doing this.”

Look at the initial flashback of the clone wars. I was shaking, too many memories.

I haven’t watched Rebels but I know some things and I know who Caleb is. So HI Padawan Caleb, good to see you. But... wasn’t Kanan’s skin complex a bit darker?

It’s going nicely, some comedy thrown in, The Bad Batch being wholesome and just destroying clankas! Tech is growing on me.

Master Billaba why are you so disappointed omg ahah thank them immediately!?!?

Yo I fucking swear, I swear to god that when tbb was leaving and the Captain turned to receive Order 66 I jumped from the seat so fast. Like I yeeted myself so fucking far you cannot understand. Literally, fuck fuck fuck this. My anxiety and ptsd from the clone wars went 📈📈📈📈📈📈

Rip Jedi Master Billaba.

Run Caleb, just run.

(I’m so fucking glad to see The Bad Batch is immune to Order 66. Like so glad.)

Ok Crosshair and Hunter go rescue Mr Padawan there.

CROSSHAIR WHAT THE FUCK CHIILLLLL

nope nope nope this is not going well. I was wrong, I fucked up, I spoke too soon.

“Good soldiers follow orders” noooooooo

Hunter being wholesome omg, what a dad energy he has. I already love him.

Omg Hunter’s scream when Kanan jumps.

Crosshair literally chill dude, let’s all vibe together.

Also uhm... it hurts to see them all so pale. Please for the love of god fix that, it’s unsettling.

The way they return to Kamino so oblivious of what’s going on. It hurts

“Coruscant guard is here” YES SHOW ME FOX YOU COWARDS

Uhm.... Filoni can we talk for a second? Yeah I would like to ask you WHY? Y’know, was it really necessary to show the corpse of a dead Jedi and the hand with the lightsaber falling off? This scene is gonna be stuck in my mind forever. I’m crying.

Can we also talk about the music? Haunting, a masterpiece throughout the whole episode.

This is not a kid’s show.

Love that they have their own personal barrack filled with their stuff, so precious. Plus the Tooka doll, omg😩

The amount of times I’ve said “Crosshair chill” by now is over 9000. Spoiler: it gets worse.

Absolutely love the tension between Hunter and Crosshair. Live for these moments.

Tech listing the characteristics of his mates and then “my exceptional mind” LMAO brag about it.

“The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed”. “You can say that again” Wrecker OMG I wheezed. Echo’s like “bruh”. That’s what I need. Right here. God I love this.

“Still don’t think the regs are programmed?” This part made me shiver. It literally terrifies me. Also Tech is growing so much on me...

Hello Omega, nice to meet you.

“adolescent human female” Tech what the fuck it’s just a girl.😂 I love her accent and her smile! And she’s a medical assistant, love that too!!!!!!

Omega really said 😃😃👋🏼👋🏼

Here comes Tarkin ugh

Why does it hurt to see regular clones without helmet? Probably cause they all look like Fives, Kix, and the others. My heart is crying

Also, why is no one bald anymore? Guess that’s old fashioned uh... (yeah I know it’s because they want them to have no characterization whatsoever, but what’s wrong in being bald?) I miss my bald-with-crazy-tattooes- regs❤️

“Hello again” 😁😁👋🏼👋🏼 the way they look at her LMAO 😶😐😑🤔😕

Food fight, yay! (Crosshair was just trying to chill but ooop guess it’s time to fight)

EXCUSE ME?!?!?

No seriously. They really threw AZ in curing Echo’s injury??? You don’t know how much I was crying. I thought they were gonna throw a “Fives” in and I wasn’t ready at all, not now. Glad they didn’t but still... fuck me Filoni

Look at Echo’s reaction. Fuck. He’s scared as hell, probably though he was back on Skako Minor being a lab rat.

Yeah what a shocking revelation for them AZ.

Headcanon: Tarkin hates his life. He’s so bitter.

The fact that they’re being tested against real threats and guns while they have stupid toy guns it’s so fucking wrong and ridiculous.

“Five are all that remain” but Echo’s not genetically enhanced. That means... (i was putting 2 and 2 together)

Here we go with a mission... this stinks from miles away just telling you

Omega and Hunter talks, ughh the feelings

The way Omega calls softly Hunter’s name ugh I’m sold. They already have a bond “something about her I can’t figure out.” 😩😩

“I guess kids aren’t your area of expertise” Crosshair what a subtle shade😂

Crosshair was not really going to shoot at kids and elder people. Right?

Oh hello Saw, good to see ya. Always a pleasure.

GENERAL SKYWALKER AND CAPTAIN REX mention here we goooo🤪🤪🤪

This is chilling and unsettling....

Great a snitch droid or whatever the fuck that is.

*dramatic stare between Crosshair and Hunter* plus toothpick action going on

Crosshair literally stfu

And here’s Tech dropping facts. Omega’s an enhanced clone. I wonder how they made it possible for her to be a female taking Jango’s DNA but whatever, this is Star Wars.

I am legitimately pissed that Crosshair threw away the toothpick. Justice for toothpick.

Omg she found a picture of the squad😭😭😭😭😭 flashback to Rex’s picture with Echo, Fives and Cody I’m crying

Look at them walking right into the trap.

Hunter looks totally offended but c’mon, you know what you were going against.

Yo, I’m really here trying not to SIMP and they fucking throw TBB in their blacks on my face. I don’t have to look at them, I don’t have to— HELLO HUNTER, how’s you booty doing?

Crosshair CHILL amigo ok io quando mi incazzo devo passare all’italiano quindi o ti calmi o ti calmi, capito brooo??!! Le bestemmie che mi fai tirare.

Ok he’s struggling, I see that. No need to be an ass tho 😶

“I know it’s not your fault. You can’t help it.” Yes I’m crying why aren’t you. The way he looks at her... I’m dead.

CT-9904. Okay... also why did they have to kick Hunter. He’s so precious, trying to defend him regardless of him being under the effect of the chip.

Oh shit oh fuck oh shit here we go. (I didn’t want to watch this part.)

Ehm, Hunter why did you have to lay down like that, you sexy beast. I’m waiting for a gifset of him like that. I’m waiting.

Not Omega copying his moves😂😂😂😂😂

“Abnormal individual” lmao the look on Tech and Hunter’s faces. So done.

Ugh the anxiety is spiraling in me. Also how did they suit up so fast lmao.

Oh no. Oh no. NO NO NO

oh shit.

He looks good tho ngl🥴 (toothpick’s back.)

Oh the look on Hunter’s face, the music... breaks my heart.

Oh I was kinda ready for this part but still..... 😭😩

Yo can you not throw the toothpick away in every damn scene please? That’s my emotional support character object.

Yo jumpscare I lost 10 years of my life what the fuck

The amount of times Wrecker got hurt just in this episode is concerning.

Your move. AHHHHHH

Yoooo Omega with that blaster rifle saved the day😃✨

BYE Crosshair see ya later 💔

Kaminoans hiding to the Empire that BB escaped? This is gonna be no good I’m telling you

Omega is precious. Must be protected.

Dad Hunter DAD HUNTER DAD HUNTER IM SOBBING

Short list of friends. One is on coordinates J-19. Saleucami sector system. CUT LAWQUANE confirmed. Fuck yes. I’m happy. Now I can rest.

Sike I will never rest. Strap in and let’s gooo

Well well well. I LOVED IT. FILONI THANKS FOR THE UNWANTED FEELINGS that made me remind I’m a human capable of emotions❤️ I owe you one but I’m also hurt and also in love. Yes, there are things that did not sit really nicely with me: the obvious whitewashing, Omega being a clone of Jango (yes I was kinda expecting it but as I think through about it... makes less sense. Literally how?), but overall I enjoyed it.

Also if you wanna chat about TBB and feelings dm me or send in an ask! See ya bad bitches💕💕

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colehasapen · 3 years

Text

(ONE SHOT) we can turn it into gold dust STAR WARS

Jangobi Week Day 2 - Time Travel

A03

When Ben had first woken up in the past, he’d had nowhere to go. He hadn’t known where he was, what he was doing, or what he would do, he hadn’t even been aware that he was in the past at first. He had still been shaking with adrenaline from his battle against - against Vader. Bone weary from the grief of losing his family, from the ache of the betrayal of his men, he hadn’t been sure of anything, but the fact that he’d had two children in his arms that needed protection and that he was no longer on Bail’s ship. No longer standing beside his Grandmaster and the body of one of his dearest friends.

At first, he hadn’t even realized that he was over a decade younger than he had been only months before, all he’d known was that he was immensely grateful for the peculiarities of Stewjoni biology, because he’d had two very hungry newborns to feed before he could truly wonder about what had happened.

He’d disguised himself as a farmer, hiding his and Anakins’ lightsabers, stealing some clothing from an abandoned homestead, and that had been when he’d truly gotten his first good look at his face, and he’d nearly retched in his shock. The face staring back at him had been fresh with young, a face round with immaturity and smattered with freckles Ben hadn’t worn since he was a Padawan, free of the beard he had once worn. He barely looked out of his teens, like he should still be following his Master around on missions and attending lessons in the Temple. He had stood them, bare as the day he had been born, for a long time, just staring at his reflection in the broken glass until one of the twins started wailing to be fed and Ben had forced himself to move.

Luke and Leia needed him, so he couldn’t let himself crumble.

Ben had forced himself to keep moving, because he had two orphaned infants who needed him for everything. Without him, they’d have no food, no warmth, no care - so he’d kept moving forward, looking to the Force for guidance. The lack of slimy Darkness around him had been a shock at first, had made him realize how used to it he had become over the years, and it wasn’t only all from the two supernovas that he carried around with him, one strapped to his chest, the other to his back, as they’d worked their way through the countryside of a snow-covered planet that Ben didn’t recognize.

It had been beautiful, at least, seeing the sun glinting off of ice crystals and snow capped trees, white dusted on the undergrowth like a layer of powdered sugar on those donuts he remembered Garen enjoying a little too much when they had been children. He had spent too long confined to the war front and Coruscant, unable to see the beauty of nature like he could on the unknown planet he had found himself on.

The peace hadn’t lasted.

Urged on by the Force, Ben had kept walking, and eventually he’d found himself stumbling upon a camp of armoured Mandalorians - who had all seemed equally as surprised to see him as he was to see them. It had been a tense stand-off, staring down the business end of almost a hundred blasters, until Luke had started fussing under his coat, uneasy with the emotions being broadcasted into the Force and hungry once more.

The sights and sounds of a fussy baby had been the sign that the Mando’ade had needed, and Ben had found himself immediately ushered further into the camp by protective and worried warriors. They’d been utterly delighted when both children had been unveiled, like seeing a second infant was the most precious thing they’d all ever seen. He’d found himself and the twins herded to the tent at the very center of the camp, the most well-defended position with the best insulation and heating, private enough to let him breastfeed in peace. Eventually, a medic had come to him, carrying a scanner and leading a younger verd laden with blankets and pillows behind xem. Blood work had been done, a medical profile created, and none of them had even blinked an eye when neither Luke or Leias’ genetics matched his own.

To them, he was Ben Tano, twenty years old, just another refugee who had gotten in over his head, who had taken in two orphans who had needed care and comfort. Baar’ur Nawara had been knowledgeable and well-trained, and perhaps Ben shouldn’t have been as surprised as he had been that the Twi’Lek had known the specifics of Stewjoni biology, considering that Mandalorians had once been known to take in beings regardless of species, as long as they swore the resol’nare.

Eventually, their leader had returned from scouting, had swept into the tent and into Ben’s life, and then there he had stayed.

It was then, shirtless under one of the blankets offered to him, cradling the twins in his arms as they’d fed, that the truth of his situation had truly sunk in, because when the buy’ce had come off, Ben had found himself staring into a hauntingly familiar face, one he had spent the last three years of his life surrounded by at all sides. Jango Fett, young enough that he could have been mistaken as one of his clones, dressed in beskar’gam painted in a way that Ben had never seen, dark hair curling around a face unlined by years of hatred and suffering, had stared back at him. Barely out of his teenaged years himself, Jango Fett had proven himself to be a completely different person than the man Ben had met in his own time, the one that had consigned millions of his own children to a life of slavery and death. This was a Jango Fett who was still Mand’alor, still a leader among his people, one who had not yet been given the name of Jedi Killer - and Ben had made sure that he never would.

Somehow, he had been thrown decades into the past, in a body young enough that he could be mistake for a teenager, on Galidraan before the slaughter of the True Mandalorians, before the Mandalorian Civil War had truly spun out of control and Death Watch gained the amount of traction Ben had once known them to have. He’d been thrown into a past before Jango had given himself over to a life of vengeance, before the clones had even been created, and Ben had made sure it would never happen.

He mourned for the friends he lost by meddling; mourned good, strong Cody, kind Waxer and Boil, cheerful Wooley, and so many more that had been lost. He mourned for his 212th, who had betrayed him for reasons Ben doubted he’d ever know, for Rex and the 501st, for all of the clones who would never get to live. By making sure the True Mandalorians didn’t die on Galidraan, Ben had ensured that they’d never live, he had changed the course of history and everything he had known.

He had nowhere to go, no home to go back to - there was already an Obi-Wan Kenobi at the Temple, and even the thought of returning made him think of the bodies of his family on the floor, of smoke rising above the spires and fear staining the walls like blood. So when Jango had offered him a place with the True Mandalorians, among people he hadn’t known in his own time, he had accepted.

He had accepted, had become a Mandalorian, and, eventually, he became the Be’alor as well.

An arm slides across his waist, pulling him closer against a warm, broad chest, and Ben feels lips press against the back of his neck, hot breath ruffling the shaggy copper hair there. “It’s too early to be thinking, Mesh’la.” His husband murmurs, his end of their Force bond buzzing groggily, and Ben hums, enjoying the pleasant tingle of human contact, melting into Jango’s embrace as a large hand splays across the faint bump of his abdomen. “What’s wrong, riduur? Is the ikaad bothering you?”

“Just thinking, cyar’ika.” He soothes, pulling away just enough that he can roll over to face his husband, letting the other man tuck his head under his chin, dark curls brushing against the clean shaven skin there, hand moving back to the ever-growing baby bump. This late in the night cycle, it’s just the two of them in the Mand’alor’s suite, far too early as it is for even energetic five year olds to be running around. The Keldabe palace is a fortress, impenetrable and safe, and it lets Ben relax, allowing him to be sure that his ade are safe. “It’s been five years.” He muses, almost amazed by the fact, playing absently with Jango’s soft hair.

Jango purrs deep in his chest as his nails drag over his scalp, a genetic hold over from the nonhuman ancestors Ben had never known he’d had - but maybe he shouldn’t have been too surprised to learn, considering how pack-minded the clones had been. “Best five years of my life.” The man rumbles sleepily, nuzzling against Ben’s collarbone. “I might just like your Force-shit after all. It gave me you.” Then, when Ben’s mouth opens to say something appropriately witty, still unsure what to do with the love and care aimed towards him to this day, Jango silences him with a sweet kiss that tastes like morning breath and makes both of them screw up their faces in exaggerated disgust.

“Urg.” Ben says dramatically, like some great insult had been given to him, flopping over onto his back and ignoring the faint roll of nausea that follows when the baby makes their displeasure known. Jango follows like a limpet, burying his face in Ben’s stomach and rubbing his cheek against the delightfully soft fabric of his sleep shirt as he stretches his arms across him like another blanket. “So uncivilized.”

“You love me.” Jango grins at him, soft with sleep and his cheek resting against the bump of their growing child, dark eyes shimmering with so much love that Ben wants to cry sometimes.

He doesn’t know what he ever could have done to deserve this sweet happiness.

“Unfortunately.” Ben teases, reaching out to ruffle his hair again, and Jango melts into his touch, purrs kicking up once more. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you and accepted Myles’ proposal instead.”

“Betrayal.” Jango grumps, voice thickening once more as sleep creeps towards him once again, “My own brother, betraying me. I should have him hanged.”

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in response, “You wouldn’t.” He says playfully, dodging the half-hearted swat that lands on his pillow instead, leaving Jango’s wrist to rest against his mouth, and Ben nips at it teasingly. “You love Myles too much.”

“Lies and slander.”

Ben laughs again, the weight of his past long forgotten in the face of his husband’s warmth, and he gently kisses the pulse point he can feel beating against his lips. “Go back to sleep, Jan’ika. We have a few hours yet until your court needs us.”

“Our court.” Jango mumbles, surrendering to the gentle Force suggestion Ben had lined his words with. “You got half of it when you agreed to marry me.” His breath evens as he slips back to sleep, filling the room and the Force with foggy contentment and gentle love, and Ben smiles.

“Of course.” He teases his sleeping husband, unable to not get the last word even as he finds himself being pulled back to his dreams. “How dare I forget that.”

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42

#cole writes #jangobi week 2021 #jangobi week day 2 #Obi-Wan Kenobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #time travel #trans obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #leia organa #true mandalorians #breastfeeding #galidraan fix-it #star wars fanfiction #jangobi

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millers-planet · 4 years

Text

Concern - Obi-Wan x F!Reader

Storyline/ Prompt: we accept the love we think we deserve. (fic inspired loosely by that quote from perks of being a wallflower)

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of abusive relationships, SAPPY

POV: Obi-Wan’s

Word Count: ~2600

I only saw her once every so often, usually when she was with Padmé, who was always with Anakin. She was never happy when she was with the senator, always crying or fixing herself up, I could only assume how she got them. She had the wrinkles of what use to be a happy person, with defined smile lines around her mouth and less-obvious forehead crinkles. However, I’ve never seen the infamous smile that must’ve caused these indents.

I picked up on her name only once, when Anakin was saying goodbye to the two ladies, “bye Padmé, Y/N.” From the second I heard her voice, I couldn’t stop thinking about what other things there was to know about her. Has she ever left Coruscant? What did she do for a living? How did she meet Padmé? Why was she always hiding bruises? I regretted every missed opportunity and chance I had to ask her these questions. She was a forbidden book, only because I knew she’d lead me down a road I couldn’t follow, not without breaking the rules I’ve sworn myself to.

These bruises haunted the echos of my thoughts. Poorly blended makeup over dark discoloration wasn’t hard to miss, especially when she was constantly trying to keep her hand on it. It wasn’t often that I saw her, but when I did, these were always a continuous look on her. I never understand why people treat precious material, precious literature that must have hundreds of stories to tell, so poorly.

While she is that locked book, this never stopped me from having small and meaningless conversation. There was one incident where she seemed happy, giving me an opening to meet her formally on a positive note. “Anakin, who’s this?” I looked at her briefly and smiled, sticking my hand out.

When she flinched at my arm moving toward her, I had to plaster a pokerface to prevent me from dropping to a concerned look. “This is Y/N, Padmé met her through the senate,” Anakin looked to her with a face that said ‘you can trust him’ which made her release a bit of tension. “Y/N, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, he’s my Master.”

“Obi-Wan? That sounds familiar..” she eventually shook my hand and smiled as her face lit up with the answer, “General Kenobi!” She had a contagious laugh that came out gently and warm, I was finally able to see the infamous smile that has caused all of those wonderful smile-lines. Y/N seemed sweet and innocent, I would’ve believed she was this kind of person if I hadn’t seen her patch herself up so many times or if I hadn’t noticed the nearly fully healed bruised on her wrist.

Padmé interrupted me as I was about to continue the conversation, “we should get going, there’s a meeting we’re going to be late for. It was great see you Obi-Wan.” She smiled when she looked at Anakin, “by Ani.” With that, she was gone, as quickly as she appeared.

Ever since then I tried to figure out some way to get into a senate meeting with Anakin and Padmé, with the hope of seeing Y/N again. Of course, this was delusional behavior because, realistically, she could be nothing more than a fantasy... not even that. She would be trouble for me, I know I should cut things off fully with her, but part of me remained worried about her.

I began visiting at his chambers less in the morning, meaning I’d have a lower chance of running into her. This was rough at first, not only because Anakin lectured me over how he enjoyed walking to training with me, but also because the thoughts of her only intensified. I hoped that by decreasing the exposure risk of her, it’d lower this mindless obsession, but it’s only increased with curiosity about how she was doing and if she was okay.

The one time I did walk to Anakin’s chambers in the morning, Y/N was there, so was Padmé. The door had just a sliver of it open, just enough for sound to get through and enough for me to see her. She had fresh bandages on her arms and new bruises over herself, she was frantic as she cried to Padmé, “why am I still with him?”

“You need to leave him, Y/N, there is nothing good coming from this relationship.” The senator’s voice was pleading to the other politician, trying to make her realize the truth and side with reason.

Y/N swallowed down a sob as she continued on, “he said he was done with all of.... this! I believed him, too, because he didn’t for awhile, so I thought we got past it, only it was temporary.” I saw her figure stop and sit down on some bench or couch, touching her eyes to wipe away tears. “I wish I could just walk away, but it’s so much more complicated than that.”

Padmé’s voice broke from calm to persuasive with hints of anger, “but it’s not! Y/N, it is not that complicated. Pack you stuff, come move in with me, get out of there.” Her arm draped around her friend, “I’m more worried about you than ever.”

There was a pause in the conversation before they continued onward, Y/N’s sighed and stood up, “no, Padmé, I can’t. There is too much at risk if I leave. If I go, there could be so many rumors started about where my priorities are at or other stupid things. But, we both know what gossip can do to someone.” I saw Y/N walk out of view, then a door opened and then closed after a second, it sounded like the bathroom.

“What was that all about?” It was Anakin. “Actually, tell me later, Obi-Wan is probably here. Bye.” He opened the door and swiftly closed it behind him, pushing a loose hair out of his face before smiling, “good morning, Master. I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?”

I shook my head slightly before walking toward the training hall, “no, I got here only just a moment ago.” I shouldn’t ask about what just happened, though, what if she really is in danger? It’s not like it’s any of my business, though... “Early morning company?”

“Yeah, Padmé and Y/N came over again. She is going through a bit of a rough patch with her boyfriend, that’s all. When she wants to get away, her and Padmé come over to my chambers because-” Anakin caught himself as if he was about to say something he shouldn’t. “Because they know he won’t come searching near the Jedi area.”

Ever since then, not a moment passed by when she didn’t cross my thoughts. At night, I began romanticizing the idea of rescuing her, like some hero. I stir up dreams of following her back to her place and going to it when only her “lover” was home, just to show him a lesson. I have to remember, despite all this, that my job here is only to be a peacekeeper, but the idea of taking that forward step into this seems like the right answer.

When I was making pretend-scenarios of this rescue-op, I would imagine engaging in a conversation with her after I ran into her confessing the truths of her relationship to Padmé. I would generate possible starters of how I would ask her about all of this, possible things I would say to comfort her, or just all-around things to talk to her about. Maybe, instead of convincing her to just leave her boyfriend, I could convince her to leave him for me.

No, that’s selfish. I can’t do that just because I like the idea of her, just because she’s what occupies my thoughts most of the days. There are so many rules I’m breaking just now, without even talking to her anymore. If I was wise, I would talk about this to Master Yoda. If I was wise, I would have Anakin talk to her for me because he would have a bigger chance of making any impact, since I’m only a General she knows nothing about.

To compromise with myself, I’ll be... somewhat oblivious. I’ll forget what I’ve heard and seen, only if it doesn’t come up again. I will quit all of these meaningless thoughts and daydreaming because they are doing me no good, but if I run into her crying in Anakin’s chambers more than often, I’ll engage in those conversation that should remain solely as a fantasy. Unfortunately, this is exactly what happened, three times in just a week.

It was the same conversation between Y/N and Padmé, only this time each of them was more emotional. I wasn’t able to hear anything other than, “Y/N, he is going to hurt you so bad you won’t recover, and I won’t know what to do.” This was the final straw, this has begun to spiral out of control and I need to step in, in some way.

Just at the perfect timing, Anakin came through the door. Before he could say good morning, as he usually does, I intervened. “I can’t pretend anymore that I’m blind to what’s going on between Y/N and her boyfriend. Anakin, what is happening? Why is she still with him?”

My padawan sighed as he guided us toward our usual walk, only slower. “They have been together for a few years, since they both began in the public sector of work. It wasn’t always like this, according to Padmé. They were both happy, for a long time, but ever since the trade issues began, the way she’s been treated has declined.” Anakin stopped talking and turned to face me, pulling me to the side, looking me head-on. “You can’t say anything about this, I’m technically not even supposed to know. Please, Obi-Wan, pretend this never happened.”

“Anakin, something has to be done, there has to be something we can do for her.” My voice was pleading, when I realized how concerned I sounded, I noticed how suspicious it was, as well, for me to be so concerned for a politician. “You know that if I could, I would leave this alone, but the conversations between Padmé and Y/N in the mornings have progressed so much. They’ve turned from conversations of advice to conversations of begging for reason,” my voice was firm and less emotional, making me seem more serious, hopefully.

He sighed and looked around, considering a response. “Do what you want, but you didn’t hear any of this from me. Talk to her tonight, she’ll be at my chambers again with Padmé, most likely.” I furrowed my brows together, in confusion. “It’s what’s been happening these past few nights, so it’s a possibility she’ll do it again. She leaves about 7 to go back home. Now, can we go?” I nodded and continued our normal regimen, only, my mind was galaxies away.

If she lives in her chambers, I could take the long way around to my chambers, then break off to head to Anakin’s, making me run into her. However, if she lives with her boyfriend in his room, then I’m out of luck. Though, if I take the main lobby, that increased the chance of our paths colliding, but it’d make it more public. I can’t walk back with Anakin because it’d be too obvious.

I need to clear my mind, I shouldn’t be trying to plan ahead like this, I will know what is right when the time calls for it. Whatever feels like the proper path will be the correct choice, but I can’t know what it is until then. If I’m going to talk to her tonight, I should have that clear head to make proper decisions. I’ll meditate until then, Anakin has his own tasks to do today, I believe he was meeting with the Chancellor.

Pulling myself together as I sat down on an open spot with a nice view, I took deep breaths. My focus drifted away from all of these issues at hand and just drifted off. Everything relaxed, everything was still, and everything made sense again. I forget what really matters in this universe, and coming back to here makes it all better. I was in this state of meditation for a few hours, occasionally interrupted from loud distraction that were brief as I pulled myself back into concentration. When I was finally out, it was just a little before seven, giving me plenty of time to take that long route to my chambers.

I walked at a steady pace, not thinking ahead of the conversations we might have or of anything else, other than my destination. Keeping this clear mind will be fine, whatever happens, happens. Me overthinking does nothing to help, these past few hours has helped me realize that. The familiar hall designs pulled me from my zen state, I was in my hallway, with Y/N just a few feet down the hall. “Obi-Wan?” she called happily, picking up the pace to catch up to me.

The biggest smile spread across my face as those beautiful smile lines beamed right back at me, her bubbly aura flowing off of her. However, her body spoke a different energy, it cried out with pain and discomfort as the bruises stuck out like sore thumbs. “Hey, Y/N, right?” She nodded. “Are you alright, you look a little.... shaken up?”

She sighed shakily, she smile never leaving her face as she hesitantly rubbed her arm that was coated with markings. “Yeah, everything’s all good, how are you?” I pushed her hand down, off of her arm, revealing the dark welts once more. “Obi-Wan, please, don’t. I hear enough from Padmé.”

“I think we both know what needs to happen, I think we all know what is the best.” Her smile finally broke off of her face, her lip quivering. “You are so strong, Y/N, but there is so much love in you that’s being thrown away by wasting it on your boyfriend.” I put her chin between my thumb and index finger and pulled her weepy eyes to look at mine.

My hand instinctively moved up to her cheek, cupping it gently, she leaned into it, obviously comforted by it. “I don’t know how to do it, I feel like I’m throwing so many years of my life away.” She pulled away as she dried her tears, “I know there’s nothing left for me with him, but I can’t let go, there’s so many things I’m ruining by letting go.”

I sighed, “what was there was ruined long ago, Y/N.” She began tearing up as she heard what I said, not calling me out on it, obviously realizing what I said was true. “If you want, you can spend the night with me. You can come sleep on this tonight and do it tomorrow. Or, I’ll take you to him and you can do it now, then we can head back to my place.”

Her sniffles quickly ended as she wiped her sleeve on her nose, looking up to me with those watery eyes that just melted every bit of me. “Really?” I nodded. “Can we do it tonight? I know I won’t have the energy to face him tomorrow.”

“Of course we can, I’ll walk you there. You just go inside, make things quick, stay in there for as little as possible, you might just make things worse if you’re in there for awhile.” I saw her hands fidget and shake as I went on, just wanting to prepare her. “I’m right outside, though. If I hear anything, you won’t be alone.”

She nodded and began to lead the way. “Obi?”

“Yeah?”

Y/N ran herself into me and let out a built-up sigh, “thank you,” she spoke softly as she briefly wrapped her arms around me before moving forward.

tags: @blondekel77 @mysticdeerpolice @gabile18

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toska-writes · 1 year

Text

“Sniper”

Summary: Dispatched with the strange group known as Clone Force 99 you find yourself trying to win the respect of a hard to please sniper

Pairing: Crosshair x Padawan Reader (Platonic)

Warning: A very soft Crosshair! Mentions of a gun ofc

Word Count: 1496

Read here on ao3! (✩)

The batch was interesting, well that's what you heard. On the battle field they fought perfectly in sync, barely communicating. But to be with them even for a short time? To say the least you were worried you'd mess it up.

Your master left you in the company of Clone Force 99 temporarily while another battle was being fought, apparently deemed to dangerous for you.

The Marauder touched down in the middle of a clearing, some planet in the middle of the outer rim was said to have Separatist activity, and the batch was to scout ahead to make sure it was worth the Republics time to investigate.

Hunter and Tech went out to scout first which left you, Wrecker, and Grouchy McGrouch to watch the ship.

The others seemed to come on to you fine when you first met but a certain sniper was pretty hard to please.

"I think," Wrecker started, startling you a little bit with the volume " he'll come round, your a great kid to be around." He gestured towards Crosshair. Clearly he saw you staring

"Thanks Wreck" You sighed leaning against the ship. "I'm just worried he thinks I'm an annoying little nat-born."

"He probably does." Wrecker said bluntly "But he thinks that about everyone, and if that's nat-born it's reg, or shiny or-" He started rambling different names, all not sounding the nicest but something caught your attention.

It was probably the stupidest idea, but it would be stupider not the act on it right?

With as much confidence you could must you walked over to where Crosshair was sat cleaning his precious riffle. Seriously how many times does he do that?

"Hey Crosshair" You said walking up to him, why were you nervous, and why was it so important you needed him to like you? At least acknowledge you in a less formal way.

"Sir" He nodded never looking up. The toothpick in his mouth moved from one side to the other

"Well- umm" You started, not really thinking ahead this far. "I had some questions about that."

You pointed to where the sleek weapon was cradled in his arms.

“My sniper?" He asked, finally meeting your gaze. Clearly he also was surprised by the question.

"Yeah, well I don't normally use anything like that because I have my lightsaber and the extra vibro-blade" You stated. "I mean I used a DC-15S before but they are quite different obviously-" You trailed off, you caught the confused look in Crosshairs eyes

"They are quite different." The tone he used betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. "Of course something a little more... similar would be the DC-15A blaster riffle, but I myself prefer the 773 Firepuntcher rifle."

Now you were getting somewhere. This is exactly what you wanted, you just needed to find the right things to discuss especially if the other is interested in it.

"Wow a 773 rifle." You whistled, trying to contain your victory smile. "Now does it have a lot of backlash and how much range does it have, oh and what about the modifications you made?" You practically bombarded him with questions.

He answered a few, his tone still sounding the same as before, but you kept coming back with questions or anything else that might help make a better impression of you in his eyes.

After a few more minutes of this he quietly got up and signaled with his head for you to follow.

The two of you walked into the surrounding trees, Crosshairs long legs keep a very swift pace with you practically running to catch up, he found a small opening and crouched down.

"Your lucky I was bored enough to do this." He quipped. A stand popped out from the underside of the rifle, he got to his stomach the gun propped up in front with the back end crowded by his shoulder.

'Oh what the kriff' You though getting onto your own stomach beside crosshair.

"The modifications on this have it so the firepower is released quieter and not as much back lash hits the user." Crosshair said slowly linking his eye up with the scope on top.

You were amazed to say the least, seeing someone in their element like that was incredible. You didn't say anything only nodded worried that you were going to distract him.

He aimed up a little then pulled the trigger and let it fire, a perfect hole was in the middle of a low hanging leaf. Some smoke went up but it was still intact, a little more to either side would have make the leaf rip. Somehow it also didn't disintegrate

"Wow" Was all you could croak out, eyes wide still staring."

You almost missed the pleased smirk coming from the the sharpshooter. "Honestly kid, I though you saw a sniper doing their work before."

'Kid' Now you were getting somewhere.

He made another quick gesture with his head and you got back down to the laying position nearly touching sides with Crosshair.

"Ever shoot one before." You looked at him confused, was he really going the way you though he was with this?

"No" You shook your head.

He quickly rearranged the riffle to fit between your right shoulder, sure it was a tad bit big and lengthy for your liking but you were touching Crosshairs riffle. HIS RIFFLE, you were sure people lost fingers trying to do it before you.

"Cross-" You started but stopped as he positioned your hand to the appropriate space.

"Try to find another leaf" He said. His head was angled to try and look down the top of the gun from where he was still on his stomach.

You put your eye up to the scope. "Ok not that close." He almost snapped.

You backed up and regrouped for a seconded. Trying again you look through.

"Fix your hands, and your position." Was he loosing patience or was that how he always was? You obeyed him though.

"How about that one?" You aimed up,It was rhetorical but it made you feel better none the less.

"The one next to it." Was very bluntly said next to you, clearly it wasn't rhetorical.

You went a little towards the left, the air seemed to grow thicker as you sized up the leaf.

You sat there for a moment more, Crosshairs hands hovering around making slight adjustments here and there. This is we're the doute slowly crept in.

"Shhhh" was all that came from besides you.

Crosshair aimed the barrel a little high up and then gave the nod to fire.

The shot was fired, you barely got pushed back as the force of the shot rocked the gun backwards.

At least you hit something, the trunk of the tree had a freshly made wound glowing red until it cooled.

"See?" Was all you mumbled.

Crosshair shook his head, meeting your eyes he said "again, this time don't think as much."

You sighed lining yourself up again. Crosshair made a few tweaks but then let you go free.

"Go blank" He said again then gave you the nod to shoot.

The shot fired again.

"I did it!" A giddy laugh escaped your mouth. You sat up slightly on your elbows "Did you see that!"

You looked eagerly to the man sitting next to you.

"I did." He nodded.

You sprang from your spot of the forest floor and tan to collect your prize. Sure the leaf wasn't perfectly as clean but it didn't fall apart and you were thankful for that.

"Look at it! Look!" You ran back to Cross with your arms outstretched. He took was already standing with his riffle already neatly away and slung around his shoulder.

He gave you a ginger smile then took the delicate leaf from your hands holding it up slightly to his face.

"That was pretty decent kid." He said looking down to you. He gave a solemn nod handing you back the leaf.

Those words could have sent you to another planet, that was all you were looking for from the teams sniper.

The two of you started back to the clearing, this time you were ahead with a little more pep in your step ready to show your small victory to the team.

"Hunter look what Crosshair showed me to do!" You ran up to him.

"Wow Crosshair let you touch his riffle?" Wrecker asked with a smile on his own face.

"Mhm it was so cool!" You practically shouted

Hunter looked up from your happy face to meet his brothers.

Crosshair once again leaned against the ship popping a toothpick in his mouth giving his brother a small smirk and a shrug.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x y/n #star wars clone wars #clone commando crosshair #my wriitng #toska-writes #reader insert

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thicctails · 3 years

Text

Summer Of Whump Days 14 + 21 [Hand gagging/Panic]

He remembered hearing Tech’s voice crackle across the comlink, full of panic and desperation. His hysterical cries had started the hole, weakening his heart and leaving him vulnerable. Hope that they would be able to get back to the Havoc Marauder in time to chase Crosshair down had been the only thing keeping him together. That hope had shattered upon seeing Imperial ships disappear into the atmosphere.

In the immediate aftermath, he just… froze. He was just barely aware of the sound of Wrecker yelling, shouting obscenities in Mando’a that would make even the most foul-mouthed soldier blush. The world just seemed to go quiet, his breath caught in his throat as his lungs refused to take in oxygen. He had only been brought back by Rex’s firm hands on his shoulder, the man gripping him harshly as he shook him.

“Hunter! Hunter, come back to us.” Rex was borderline shouting, his gaze hard as he watched Hunter take a deep breath. “There you go, vod.”

“Omega- she’s gone! We have to- ARRGH I don’t know!” Hunter yelled, his nails digging into his palms as he curled his hands into fists. “Chase them! Hunt them down! Something!”

“We can’t. The Empire will kill us on sight if we get to close.” Rex said.

“Well what do you want us to do?! Leave her with them?!” Wrecker exploded.

“No, but we need a plan first. We’ll get her back, we just need to wait until they’re far enough away to trail safely.” The clone captain raised his hands, trying to deescalate the situation. Even as he did so, he looked sorrowfully towards the stars.

“No. I won’t leave her with them for any longer than I can help. She’s hurt and she’ll be scared and she needs us.” Hunter snapped, his eyes wild with a burning protectiveness. A fire had been ignited in his chest, and no amount of placating words could stomp it down. It would blaze until he held his precious ad'ika was safely back in his arms where he could make sure that she was never taken away from them again.

“Hunter,” Rex started, his eyes going soft, “I understand how you feel. I have someone that I’d chase Imperials across the galaxy for if she got captured. But we can’t just throw ourselves at the Empire. If you want to help Omega, we need to stay under their radar.”

Hunter growled, the sound vibrating in his chest. He hated Rex in that moment. He hated him because he was right. Using stealth was their best bet at rescuing Omega, and that fact irritated him to no end. He didn’t want to be stealthy, he wanted to use the blinding rage that was making his heart thunder in his chest to find the people who had dared to take her away and rip their throats out.

“Hunter!”

Echo’s voice made him look up. The man was walking towards him, a limping Tech holding onto him for support. He looked fearful, his eyes quickly scanning the group, desperately hoping to see the little girl that should be there, ducking behind Hunter’s legs or being held by Wrecker. His face crumpled when he realized that they had failed. Omega was with Crosshair, who was still under the chip’s influence. She was in the Empire’s claws, vulnerable and alone.

‘No, not alone.’ He reminded himself. ‘She has Pillow.’

“Echo, Tech, are you okay? ” Hunter released some of his anger as he spoke to his brothers.

“Tech’s leg is hurt. Crosshair kicked Pillow into him when he attacked them.” Echo explained. “Omega stopped Crosshair from finishing the job.”

“She shouldn’t have.” Tech grit out, his face already stained with tears. “She should have just ran.”

“You know she would have never left you.” Hunter sighed. “She loves you, loves all of us.”

“He was going to shoot me.” Tech whispered. He knew that Crosshair would attack him, but he never thought he’d live to see the day that his ori'vod would point the muzzle of his rifle at him with the intent to kill. “Is he even still in there? Can we still help him?”

“We have to try. He’s our brother, and I’m not abandoning him again.” Hunter’s voice dropped. “Even if I do want to kick his teeth in for taking Omega.”

“What’s the plan?” Echo asked.

Hunter looked at Rex and sighed. “We wait. Once they’re far enough away, we’ll track ‘em down and figure out a way to stage a rescue.”

“Wait?! Are you serious?” Echo hissed.

Hunter bared his teeth. “It isn’t my first choice either, trust me. But it’s the best we can do for now. If we leave too soon, we’ll just get ourselves killed.”

Tech growled softly, his own frustration leaking through. “Hunter is right, unfortunately. As much as I hate to say it, waiting is our only option.”

“Can’t we do something?” Wrecker asked, his mouth drawn down into a frown. “Anything?”

“We still have that debt to Cid. I say we scavenge enough to pay her back and then some. Once we get Omega back, we can disappear once and for all. Give her a life beyond being an outlaw.” Echo proposed.

The group looked at each other.

“I need to get a message to someone, but I’ll be more than happy to help you after that.” Rex said. “The armory on this ship should still have some supplies in it.”

“That could be useful on a number of levels. Wrecker, come with me to the armory. Echo, help Tech to the main controls, we’ll need to get the power back on.” Hunter commanded, needing to get away from this place. He couldn’t keep looking back at the sky, back towards the space where Omega had disappeared. “Let’s get ready.”

A drop of water splattered onto Omega’s head, the warm droplet sliding down her nose. She breathed in the smell of damp earth and growing plant life, smiling as she observed all of the greenery around her. She was sitting in the mouth of the ship’s doorway, watching the forest slowly come to life. Pillow was off snoring somewhere in the ship, sleeping off whatever he’d managed to catch and eat last night.

Crosshair had forbade her from leaving the ship while he went to go hunt breakfast, stating that she and Cal needed more than ration bars. Said padawan was still snoozing on the bed, his hair all tousled and knotted from their days in captivity and their wild escape. She wondered if he’d let her help him brush it out. She’d read on one of her datapads , in some cultures, friends brushed and braided each other’s hair. While she didn’t know how to braid, her own hair required maintenance, and she was sure it was just as bad as Cal’s. She should probably start looking for a brush soon.

Beams of rosy morning light shone down through the canopy, causing all of the little water droplets on the plants to glisten. She looked on in awe. It was like a thousand little diamonds had appeared, scattered across the clearing by some unseen hand. In the trees above, avian creatures began to sing, their melodious songs ringing out pleasantly into the calm morning air. If she hadn’t been so sore, she might have ignored Crosshair’s command and gone to roll in the grass. It looked so soft and cool and inviting, and her inner curiosity practically begged her to go look at those morning dew drops.

Closing her eyes, Omega reached out with the Force. In an instant, a comforting rush of life filled her, and she could feel the Force in everything around her. It twisted through the trees, settled in the rocks, flowed through the water, and thrummed joyously in the bodies of every living creature around her. Behind her, Cal and Pillow were beacons of energy, their lifeforce practically tangible. She let her own Force signature reach out to them, wrapping them in the happiness and liveliness she felt. Pillow did not respond, likely too deep in slumber to feel her, but she could feel Cal reach out to her in the Force. A warm fuzz of sleep-muted contentment and peace wrapped her in a warm hug, the positive feelings settling into her chest.

Having another Force-sensitive was better than she had ever imagined, especially since Cal was right around her age, and she wasn’t sure if she could go back to being alone. Well, not alone, she’d have her family, of course, but this was different. Cal was someone who understood, who experienced the world the way she did. What’s better, he had experience training with the Force. If he stayed, she could probably learn a lot from him. Not to mention it had been nice to have someone to sleep with that wasn’t a large salamander that liked to kick off the blankets.

She wanted to stay with him, to learn about the Force and how it worked. She wanted to be there for him when the trauma of what he’d been through made him go quiet and distant. She wanted him to be there for her when she was struck with another nightmare, as she knew she was bound to have plenty. She wanted to be able to have looked at him so much that she could count the tiny stars that dusted his cheeks. She wanted to know what his laugh sounded like, his real laugh, not the little watery chuckle she’d managed to pull from him. She wanted to see him grow up and be happy.

He blinked at her, his eyes matching the forest before her as he fought the heaviness of his eyelids, and Omega realized that she may have still been sharing her feelings with him. She drew back, embarrassed. Those thoughts were meant to be private, and she winced at the idea of him finding her feelings to be weird. Despite the fact that it felt like she’d known him for years, she only met him a few days ago. Oh gosh, he totally thought she was weird, didn’t he? Good job, Omega, you’ve kriffed up your first chance at friendship.

A warmth gently tugged at her Force signature, coaxing her to open up again. Surprised, she obeyed, tentatively reaching back.

A wave of thoughts came across the connections. He wanted to teach her, to show her everything he’d learned from his Master. He wanted them to learn new things together. He wanted to be able to chase away nightmares before she could even have them. He wanted to hear her laugh. He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to protect her, make sure that no one would ever harm her again. He didn’t want to be alone again, and he didn’t want her to be alone either. He wanted them to grow up happy together.

He sleepily smiled at her, relieved that he could just let her feel how he felt, let her know without even speaking that he wanted to keep their newfound friendship. Omega smiled back, her eyes sparkling in the morning light. Cal yawned, stretching as he got to his feet. He came over and sat with her, quietly keeping her company as they watched the peaceful morning.

Suddenly, there was a rustling from the bushes. Omega and Cal looked towards the sound, each child sending the thought ‘be cautious’ over their connection. Cal, who had not been confined to the ship due to him still being asleep, slowly made his way down the ramp. Omega instinctively reached for her bow, cursing internally when she realized that she no longer had it. She looked at the bushes with a worried expression, before deciding that, even if she didn’t have her bow, she was going to help. Mentally apologizing to Crosshair, she reached out to Pillow with the Force as she descended down the ramp slowly, her injuries flaring up as she moved. Her eyes fell on a large stick, and she gripped it, holding it in front of her.

She turned around to see if Pillow was at the doorway yet, but when she looked back, Cal was nowhere to be see, his Force signature gone with him.

“Cal?” She called nervously, noting how silent the clearing had become. She remembered Echo telling her stories about his brother, Fives, and how the clone would sometimes pull a prank on him. Was that what Cal was doing?

“If this is a prank, Cal, it’s not very funny!” She called, her eyes darting around. The stillness of everything made her nervous.

A hand clasped around her mouth, a firm arm pulling her backwards. She let out a muffled yelp as she was dragged back into the bushes. She kicked and struggled, the Force under her control whipping about wildly as she tried to figure out what had grabbed her.

‘Sleep, youngling.’

A calm, soothing voice entered her mind, smoothing down her panic with ease. She felt her eyelids start to droop, urged on by the gentle suggestion. She kicked weakly a few more times, before succumbing to sleep.

Crosshair shifted the animal he was carrying on his shoulder. He’d manage to track down a fat little cervid that had been munching on some plump blue berried. One accurate shot later, and he had secured breakfast for himself and his little group. He was no cook, but he knew how to make basic meals that would sustain them for a bit while he figured out their next move. Soup could be a breakfast food, right? Did kids like soup? He and his brothers had liked it quite a bit when they were younger, especially if they’d been out in the rain, so he figured it would be okay.

“Adike, lor'vram!” He called, before realizing that, unlike his brothers, Omega and Cal wouldn’t understand what he was saying. He should really teach them some Mando’a, especially if Cal was going to be staying with them.

As he approached the ship, he paused, scanning the ground outside the ship. There was grass that had been stepped on, recently too. His eyes flicked up towards the inside of the vessel, and he cursed when he didn’t see the two children or Omega’s pet.

“Omega, I told you not to leave the ship!” He scolded, hoping that she was close enough to hear him. He waited.

No reply.

“Omega?” He tried again. “Cal?”

Nothing.

He observed the tracks in the grass, following them until they stopped abruptly. Building worry gripped his gut in its icy claws, and he hurried onto the ship. Perhaps they’d simply gone down onto the grass and then came back up?

“Pillow?” He cringed a bit at the mushy name Omega had given the annoying beast.

He moved back towards the storage part of the ship, where he knew Pillow had been sleeping. He entered the room, expecting to see a sleeping lump of a lizard and, hopefully, two kids.

He saw neither. Instead, there was a large, crystalline cocoon in the centre of the room. It was deep purple in colour, flashes of white occasionally shining through. A light pulsed rhythmically, like a flashing heartbeat. Crosshair stared at it, dumbfounded.

What the hell had Omega befriended?

Whatever was happening here, it could be dealt with later. He needed to find the kids. Shucking off the animal he’d been carrying, he tossed it into cold storage before rushing back outside. He examined the prints again, then looked towards the forest. If there were no tracks beyond this point, then…

He looked up.

A tangle of thick branches permeated the canopy, far above the ground, but reachable if you knew what to do and had the strength to do so. As a sniper, high places were Crosshair’s element. He felt no fear while being perched on a ledge, trusting in his impeccable balance. If something, or someone, had taken the kids, that was likely where they had fled to.

Growling, Crosshair secured his rifle and found a place to start climbing. He hadn’t just risked their lives to get the kids to safety, only to lose them to some forest predator. While he lacked Hunter’s otherworldly tracking skills, he still had some training. Moving over to a branch close to where the footprints had ended, he saw that part of the bark had been scrapped away, too recently to have been natural. He scanned the canopy, finding little signs of movement everywhere. A trail had been left behind, one that only someone like him or Hunter could follow.

“Don’t worry, adike, I’ll get you back.” He said, before leaping onto the next branch.

#hunter bad batch #omega bad batch #tech bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #captain rex #rex clone wars #crosshair bad batch #cal ketsis #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #summerofwhump #summerofwhump[14]#summerofwhump[21]#whump prompt #writing challenge

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/31766296/chapters/82386322

Future Past

6 BBY

Luke is eleven years old.

Luke went through a lot of firsts during his time with Ben. Often times, they could be some of his happiest memories, ones he would cherish and go back to when he was feeling sad or frustrated or generally negative.

The first time Luke saw him fight with a lightsaber put him in awe. It hadn’t been the first time Luke had seen the saber, but it had been the first time he had seen it – and Ben – in action. It was a bit inspiring. It only made Luke want to be a jedi more. It wasn’t all about the violence – although that may have played a part – but Ben was so smooth and calm, at one with the saber.

It sang.

And it was absolutely beautiful.

Luke remembered one of the earliest fights with an Inquisitor. It had been the first time Ben had drawn and ignited his lightsaber for battle. And Luke would probably never say otherwise – it was mesmerizing. No one fought like Ben. And Ben just obliterated his opponent.

Or, he supposed he would have, if Luke had listened to him.

At the time, Luke thought it would be the craziest thing he would ever see. He didn’t remember most events leading up to it, but he did remember the man who just pounced on them out of nowhere, a red saber practically screeching toward Luke’s head – was the saber screaming? Was Luke? It could have been both.

Ben had blocked the blade before it made contact with Luke and the boy’s vision had turned white from the light emanating from the lightsabers. Luke could not even breathe.

“Luke! To the ship!” Ben had barked in a tone Luke had never heard from him before. But Luke did not disobey, he scrambled away from the contradiction of the sobbing and shrieking of one saber and the quiet, protective and comforting strength of the other.

He tore across the grass, stains on his knees and arms from the dirt as he raced to their ship. Once at the ramp, he had turned around. He couldn’t help it.

“Ben!”

Ben had taken precious time to look over at him, eyes flashing in some kind of protective fury that only gentled at the sight of him.

The strange man had thrown Ben into a tree for the distraction.

Luke let out a cry.

It would be the only blow the Inquisitor would make. The man moved towards Luke and the boy was virtually frozen in fear. The red saber and its user just turned in time to block Ben’s initial blow, once again in the fight with a warrior and not a child. It was pretty much over after that, by then. A bare few mere strokes and the duel was finished with the Inquisitor on the ground. Unconscious or dead, Luke was too frazzled to know. But he did remember running into Ben and leaping into his arms.

He had caught the child, but it was a close thing, and he dropped his saber for the catch, which he did with a grunt at the sudden weight. “I’m so sorry, Ben!” Luke wailed. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, beacon. I’m fine,” Ben assured as he shifted himself to hold Luke better, but the boy just curled his arms and legs around the older man so tightly, it was unlikely he would fall even if Ben had let go. He used the force to pull his saber to him and started walking back to the ship.

Luke tucked his face into the crook of Ben’s neck. Ben just patted his back.

“It’s alright, Luke,” he murmured as they walked into the ship. The ramp closed up behind them. “Now do you see why we have rules?”

“Rules can be good,” Luke agreed, muttering in Ben’s neck and hair.

“There is a time and place to both follow and break rules,” he said, gently. “I will try to teach you to decide which is which and when either is good or appropriate.”

Luke just hummed. He didn’t let Ben go for quite some time.

It would be weeks later when the force apparition – ghost, Luke thought – of Qui-Gon Jinn appeared to him. He was ready for lessons that Luke would later recognize as kind of undermining or contradicting Ben’s. It was rather confusing, but Luke was young and impressionable. Surely Qui-Gon thought he could get some of his maverick and living force tendencies and lessons in. And he did. Sort of. Eventually.

But it happened later, when Luke understood more, better. What Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t quite realize was how Luke was into Ben, how curious he was about his guardian. When Qui-Gon had came back around again, Luke had learned about padawans. And all he wanted was to be Ben’s.

Which meant, at this stage, he had very little interest in Qui-Gon Jinn’s teachings… unless it pertained to Ben.

“Hello, Luke,” Qui-Gon Jinn greeted warmly. The boy was in his little room, fiddling with a tiny, dull carving knife, going at it in a wooden carving. Blonde hair shifted as he perked, glancing up at the blue hue of the ghost, no longer surprised by his appearance. He nearly threw the knife and wood away from his body but paused, carefully setting them on a tiny shelf, taking several safety precautions in the process.

The ghost tried to stifle his chuckle.

“Hello Master Jinn,” Luke greeted when he was done, sitting cross legged and looking up at him with a wide smile.

“Ah, it’s Master Jinn now, huh?”

“Ben told me about masters and padawans,” Luke replied. “And the difference between slave masters and teacher masters. I think I’m pretty sure I can understand the difference.”

“And how do you think the difference is?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Well, a master like a jedi can become a master, is mastering yourself and learning a topic, or several, where you know more about than most,” Luke replied, and it sounded like he was almost reciting it. Qui-Gon wondered if he had looked it up in a dictionary or had learned and then rehearsed it.

The ghost nodded and drifted towards the boy a little closer. “Would you be amendable to talk?” he asked.

Luke just smiled. “I don’t know what amendable means, but I’d love to talk. I have sooooomany questions,” he said and there was something about his expression that was a tad bit suspicious, but Qui-Gon certainly couldn’t quite understand it.

“Well, I suppose we have some time for some questions…” he drifted off, uncertainly. He was only eleven after all; no doubt he had many questions in general. He just hoped that he could be able to have adequate answers.

“Great!” Luke cheered as he shifted in his bed, pulling the blanket up into his lap and wiping away wooden shavings. “Do you want to sit down?”

The older – dead – man just chuckled again, a bit nervous this time. “Uh, I don’t really need to sit. I’m not even entirely sure that I can.”

Luke shrugged. “Okay. Ben said it’s polite to offer a seat when you can. Speaking of, I should start simple. How long was Ben your padawan?”

“Uh…” Qui-Gon drifted off, uncertainly. This was not what he was expecting. “He became my padawan around age thirteen and he was knighted at twenty-five, after my death,” he answered, and Luke scribbled something in a notebook. “What are you writing?”

Luke shrugged. “No worries. Just thoughts. Do you know his favorite food?”

“Favorite food?”

“Ben’s favorite food,” Luke clarified, staring at him expectantly. The simple questions lasted a few more minutes until they stretched into somethings that needed longer answers, such as, “What was your first mission? What was the most fun mission? Why does Ben not like droids? Did you know my father? Do you know about Ben’s lovers? Or his friends? Does he like candles? What hobbies did he have when he was young? Were you the one who taught him Sabaac? You know when he does that thing? You know that thing with his face? Do you know what that means?”

Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t really have a concept of time as a force ghost, but he knew that much time must have had passed. Luke kept asking question after question, skillfully going from one topic to the next in conversation. But they were nearly all pertaining to Ben. Luke seemed utterly uninterested in anything the jedi had to offer except for insights on Qui-Gon’s former padawan. He had plenty of those, admittedly. But the realization and thought had stunned him next.

It took the old jedi an admittedly embarrassingly long time to realize it.

“You’re stalling,” he noted, dumbfounded.

Luke stopped talking, abruptly, in the middle of what he was saying and stared at him for several moments. And then he glanced down at the chrono at his bedside. Upon seeing the numbers listed, he perked and jumped up, cheering loudly.

Qui-Gon Jinn jerked back, startled.

“I DID IT!” he yelled, spinning around in some type of a dance, waving his hands and legs around as he laughed, near hysterically.

“You did what?”

“I distracted youfor three hours!” Luke grinned at him, standing on his bed with his face and eyes gleaming in pride. “Ben said I couldn’t do it for even one.” The child just jumped off the bed and ran off, away from the room, yelling and screaming in glee. Qui-Gon was left absolutely flabbergasted. And he stayed there for several minutes, too stunned to move.

Eventually, his former apprentice found him in the child’s room, his expression something absolutely amused and completely glowing with pride.

“You are training him to stall,” Qui-Gon noted, incredulous and dumbfounded.

“Yes of course,” Ben affirmed, tucking his hands into his large sleeves.

“For three hours,” Qui-Gon continued slowly.

“I am impressed that he got through that long without some plant or pathetic lifeform’s help,” Ben admitted.

“You still use that form?”

Obi-Wan just hummed. “It has become a bit of an endearment over the years.”

“Three hours,” Qui-Gon repeated, flatly.

“It is a good start,” Ben replied.

“Start? You plan on training him to do that for longer?”

Ben glanced at him, staring for a moment in surprise. He turned a bit to pick up and sweep up some of the wooden shavings Luke had left, as well as straighten his bed, left messed up with Luke’s celebratory dance. “Of course, I do. It is a good skill to have, especially in the galaxy that we currently live in. The one Luke is forced to live in.”

“I do have teachings for you,” Qui-Gon urged, gently. After his talk with Ben, he went to find Luke again. He did find him, as it wasn’t a large ship, and he was in the kitchenette area, snacking on some treats. The boy was practically stuffing his face. He glanced at up at the ghost and chewed and then swallowed before he spoke.

“If I need to know them, I’m sure Ben will teach me,” Luke shrugged and made a move to eat more of whatever food he was enjoying. He paused as Qui-Gon kept speaking.

“Has he made rules for seeing and talking to me?” Qui-Gon asked, continued to be dumbfounded. That wasn’t exactly something he was expecting. Obi-Wan – Ben – didn’t seem averse to Qui-Gon teaching and talking with Luke, in fact, he almost seemed to encourage it.

“No,” Luke replied steadily, keeping his eyes on his task as he picked out some of the specific treats from the bag. He didn’t seem too bothered by this line of questioning. Well, at least Ben wasn’t putting a ban on it but if Ben didn’t… Qui-Gon wasn’t sure what was going on. And then Luke kept going, calm and stable as ever. “I did.”

“What? Why?” he sputtered.

“You say dumb things sometimes.”

Qui-Gon did not know what that meant. Or rather, what the boy meant by that. He had only spoken to the youngster twice. “About what?”

Luke shrugged again and popped a treat in his mouth. He seemed to start to offer one to Qui-Gon but then paused and thought about it. It probably came to his attention at that moment that Qui-Gon couldn’t exactly eat. Or drink. It was a bit of a letdown, honestly. Ben kept quite a bit of tea on the ship. “You can be kind of confusing and exhausting sometimes.”

“Confusing and exhausting,” Qui-Gon echoed, confused.

5 BBY

Luke is twelve years old.

“Please be gentle with the controls. I am not convinced these old bones can take it.”

Luke couldn’t help but shrink a bit as his hands tightened around the ship’s controls. His eyes cast down at the board in shame. “Sorry, Ben.”

“No worries. Just keep it in mind,” he gently reminded as he put a hand under the boy’s chin to lift it. “And keep your eyes where you desire to go.”

It wasn’t Luke first lesson when it came to flying the ship, but it was the first time that they were practicing in the dangers of a junk yard. Getting caught was dangerous, of course, but what the trick really was ended up being avoiding others and the debris that was constantly moving. And the creatures that sometimes inhabited the planets underneath the rubble.

Luke was good and they both knew it. He had a knack and talent for it, something Ben had told him he had in common with his father. Ben told him that Anakin Skywalker had been an unparalleled pilot, absolutely amazing in the sky. It had been a note and story that excited the youngster because oh wow he was like his father. In such a way, he was like his father, that was so good and pure, and he wanted nothing more.

He had been so thrilled to hear what they had in common.

“A ship is not an animal. It cannot feel and it cannot learn,” Ben kept speaking, hours into their practice in the junkyard planet. Luke almost laughed. Ben was good with animals, something he had learned fairly quickly, and he said it was something Luke could get better with as well. Luke didn’t get to see a lot of animals, but Ben said it was natural to connect with others in bonds. Luke was looking forward to learning. “Whereas a beast – a varactyl for example – can learn and move with you, a ship cannot and needs explicit instructions,” he explained. “However, a too firm and strict grasp on the controls can jerk around your movements and it won’t make flying any easier.

Luke nodded as he softened his hand, not even shooting Ben a glance. “Got it.”

He kept lightening his touch on the controls, leaning with the movements, putting all his attention on the outside surroundings to avoid or go around with an emphasis on where he was going. These places were natural obstacle courses.

“You are going very well,” Ben hummed. Luke barely heard him. “Let’s kick things up a notch, eh?”

At first, Luke wasn’t entirely sure what he meant but it soon became clear. They were going faster. Objects and downed ships flew past them, and Luke could almost feel the wind whistling in his ears. Logically, he knew that was impossible, that it was just the engines working to keep up with what Luke was asking of them.

But oh, did it feel like it.

Luke just let out a whoop.

(Luke would be thirteen the first time he outflies Darth Vader. He would never forget it. Perhaps it was luck and circumstance rather than solely on skill. Luke certainly thinks so even if Ben says there is no such thing as luck. Luke takes that as a compliment.)

Present Past

Start

Luke was left alone for the night.

All in all, he didn’t actually sleep much. Enough, but not much. He walked around the assigned room, looking and searching. There had to be something, anything, he could use. He was a survivor, he was determined, like his guardian before him. There was a thorough search of his room, and he collected any tools he thought he could possibly use. There was not much. He didn’t have the quite the feelings and foresight as Ben did, but he did have instincts and he had learned from some the best. Afterwards, Luke knelt on the floor, laying a thin folded blanket under his knees. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and just sunk into the Force.

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” Luke exhaled as he recited the mantra, quiet and nearly inaudible, even to himself. He had found something in the jedi mantra, especially after Ben clarified the intricacies of it. At first glance, in the initial stages of his explanation, it had been incredibly hard to understand in a way that wasn’t harsh on the jedi. But as Ben quietly explored and continued to elaborate, Luke understood more. He didn’t completely understand it all yet, but the mantra had been a source of comfort for him. Something to say when things were hard. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.”

He reached out, avoiding the oily dark presence that he knew to be Count Dooku and gave it a wide berth. There wasn’t a great deal of the force’s presence on the ship, being so enormously inhabited with droids, void of life. He reached further. Dull, dull, disgustingly dark. Moving along, he startled at a brightness. Not the clone troopers, as there was only a singularity in the particular area, but it was warm and stunning and…

Purposefully tempered.

He swallowed harshly and moved on, but he kept it in mind. As he reached further, there was a small mass of light somewhere near the edges of the space, but, if he concentrated and looked closer, harder, more, he could make it out.

Make out…

One; soft and warm, loyal and curious. Worried.

Two; steadfast and solid, collected.

Three; questioning, irritated, full of life and joy.

Four; snarky and ready, bundled and sardonic.

Five; a tad determined, understated, kind.

Six; working, working, working, comfort, trying, trying, trying.

Luke exhaled in relief. The troopers, strong in their light and presence. At the very least, alive and not in immediate danger of dying. There was that, at least. He opened his eyes and could almost feel them softening. The things around him started to blurry and his hand reached up to his face. It came back damp. Oh, so he’s crying. “Okay, okay,” he muttered, wiping the tears away. It was something, he wasn’t alone yet. He could do this. He could do this. “They are alive. Now I just need to figure out how to get us out of here.

Count Dooku’s brief communication with the Queen of Zygerria had not gone as smoothly as it should have. He took it with the strength, demand and grace as he always did but she was determined to keep some of her freedom. Pity. She wasn’t the only one that was actively annoying him. There was so much going on, and so much to think and figure out. After the call, Count Dooku managed to retire to his quarters with minimal distractions or encounters. He would have to figure out what to do with the wounded traitor besalisk. It was fairly obvious what the former jedi wanted, what he apparently thought he was worthy of.

But Dooku had little interest in that tutelage.

But he wasn’t useless, Dooku could get something out of him.

His assistant had brewed him some fresh tea in a pot and so he walked over to the stand and poured himself half a glass. Taking a sip, he took a breath and tried to organize what he currently knew. Something was happening. In the force. In the galaxy. Something even his master hadn’t – couldn’t – account for.

And young Luke was centered in the middle of it. Dooku didn’t know how or why or anything of that sort. He didn’t know specifics, he couldn’t. He hardly knew anything about the boy at all. It was all rather sudden. And it was, in fact, incredibly frustrating.

The child had most certainly been trained by Kenobi, that much was clear, by the way he moved and even the way he spoke. He had spent plenty of time fighting and often conversing briefly with the jedi. Dooku also had a lot of spies and intelligence feeding him information, especially when it came to Skywalker and Kenobi. But he had never even had heard of an inkling of anyone named Luke.

It was like he just manifested one moment.

Where did he come from?

Obviously, Kenobi had kept him well hidden and kept in contact with him. So much so that Luke had learned well from the jedi. How could he be so much like a padawan without being one and never show up in Kenobi’s life. His research had come up with very little. Luke was about fifteen or sixteen, he’d wager, making Kenobi about twenty, perhaps, when he was born. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Dooku hadn’t paid much attention to his grand padawan until the war started, aside from his own master’s thoughts and notes on Kenobi and his padawan, but once Kenobi started rising quickly thought the war, proving himself such a worthy and capable general, Dooku looked more.

How could he not?

“Ah,” Luke smiled, looking up as the door opened to his room. It was fake, of course, it was hard to try being pleased with the sight before him when he was very much, not. Count Dooku and his assistant strode in, a tray in the latter’s hand. It had been quite some time since they had left him alone, plenty of time to think. Luke could smell the aroma of Alderaanian Jasmine. It made his eyes near flutter, oh did he love that. He was sitting on the floor, kneeling, meditating and did not move when the two of them came in. “My keeper,” he pondered, and he pushed as much amusement in his voice as he could. “What do I owe the pleasure? Would you prefer our delightful back and forth banter or are you here with questions? I must confess, I do not imagine I have many answers to the latter,” he admitted.

“I have had sustenance brought,” Dooku replied, stiffly.

“Cool,” Luke grinned wider as he stood up and gratefully took the tray. He set it on the bed and plopped down next to it. The food was easy to eat, probably could be done with fingers, even though he was given silverware. Dooku probably expected him to eat it with said silverware, but Luke had little inclinations for such things at the moment. “Hey, how far into the war do you think you’ll make?”

Dooku startled but to his credit, he barely showed his surprise. It could not have been a question that he was expecting. Luke didn’t think anyone could really expect that. “Excuse me?”

“When, during the war, do you think you will meet your demise?” Luke asked, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. Dooku looked just a bit stunned, the difference between the Luke before and the Luke that was in front of him now. And, of course, the abrupt inquiry about Dooku’s lifespan. “I was thinking of starting a betting pool,” he paused as he chewed through some of the food and thought about it for a moment. “I’m gonna place my bets just rrrriiiiigghhhttt before the war ends.”

Dooku seemed rather curious but not in any way amused. “Why then?”

“By then,” Luke shrugged, not even giving him a glance as he ripped apart some of the bread. It was rather good stuff. “I imagine your master will no longer have a use for you.”

Then he said something that Luke didn’t completely understand or hear until much later, when he thought about it. “You are definitely related to Kenobi,” he had muttered, deep under his breath.

“What?” Luke sputtered.

Dooku led Luke down the halls, accompanied by a squad of battle droids silently. Their talk had been a bit long, as Dooku did not approve of the initial conversation. Luke had realized where he knew Zygerria, it was a slave planet. And that was what they talked about. Slaves. Slavery. Luke isn’t entirely sure how it comes about, how Dooku is willing to give so much, about their allies in the Zygerrians. It was a difficult conversation for Luke, one that he was fairly certain Dooku noticed and drew some conclusions of. But it was a conversation that Luke was a bit passionate about.

He had seen what slavery had done, what it was, on the planet he grew up on. He had heard the stories about his grandmother who had lived decades in it before finally able to be free. Before she fell in love and started a family when her first son became a jedi. He had heard about where his father had come from, what his father had done to free himself in a pod race.

He knows Dooku is having problems with the Queen of Zygerria. It is obvious, as they are being escorted to the planet. The count said he will make her see reason. Luke couldn’t help but smirk and gives him a little advice. She is a slaver; she will not cower before him. It is not in her nature.

Luke wasn’t entirely sure how the conversation ended, but it eventually did and Dooku had led him out of the room with a squad of droids. Backup? Perhaps. It didn’t matter. Dooku held the cards for now.

One of the droids opened a door and Dooku gestured for him to step inside. As they entered the room, Luke realized what it was. It was some sort of training room, something large and wide, with very few things that could hinder any movement. And as they did, a familiar hilt filled his vision. It was Ben’s saber.

“You do not have a lightsaber,” the Count noted. Well, wasn’t that obvious, Luke thought to himself, trying to temper the sarcasm that he felt was rolling off his tongue in waves. There was a reason he had been using Ben’s lightsaber. Sure, he was used to it, but then again, if he had his own, he would probably be used to that one as well.

“No.”

“But you are well acquainted on how to use one,” he continued his obvious statements, which irked the teenager a little bit. Gee, you think? Of course, he knew how to use one, Dooku had told him he had reviewed the footage of some of his fight with Krell. And he used a saber during the battle.

But Luke only shrugged. “Lit up end away from me. Stab. Swish, swish.”

Dooku looked down at him, unimpressed and skeptical with something else, something that made him think he was seeing through Luke’s façade. This was a bit different than the prim and perfectly mannered young man that had shared a meal with him the day prior. Would it put the Count off his game with the whiplash? Ah, Luke didn’t know, in particular, but it was rather fun.

“I suppose then, you will be needing this,” he replied instead, stiffly as he offered the saber. Luke quicky took hold of it, his fingers curling around the familiar grooves with a practiced motion. The Count just watched, curious.

“What do you want?”

“I would like to see an exhibition of your skills.”

“Why?”

“I am interested in seeing the difference between you and Skywalker, since you have both been trained by Kenobi.”

The difference. The difference. There was a lot. Luke was his father’s son, perhaps, and at one point, Luke would have absolutely relished in the similarities between his father and himself. At that one point, Luke used to desperately try to find those connections and comparisons. But after Luke knew the truth, after he knew what his father was and what he had become, Luke had just as desperately tried to find differences and distinctions. How hard it was, being in the biological lineage of such a monster.

Luke wondered how Ben would take it, waking up to a former padawan that wasn’t quite yet a monstrous maniac. How would he react then? Luke wasn’t sure how he felt about it at the moment. He had spent so much of his life wanting so much to know his father but finding out what he had become and what he had done, had been rather difficult. “I am your prisoner, not your entertainment,” Luke huffed as he narrowed his eyes.

“As my… prisoner. I hold all the cards,” Dooku replied, calmly, unperturbed by Luke’s scowl. “Behind that door,” he gestured across the room and Luke followed the movement with his eyes. “Are your clone troopers.”

Luke perked visibly. He couldn’t help it.

Droids came out from the sides of the room as Dooku continued. Luke just eyed them warily, trying not to move to look at them more directly. “The droids have been ordered to take that room and kill whoever is inside.”

Luke froze.

Dooku had known he had won this conflict, just as Luke glanced away in an unavoidable show of his defeat. “If you would prefer them still breathing, I suggest you do what I say and fight.”

He leaned closer.

“Their lives depend on it.”

Luke’s eyes were suddenly locked onto Dooku, cold and calculating for any signs of it being a bluff. He couldn’t take that chance. In the moment, Luke’s face became washed in the blue light of Ben’s lightsaber blade. He turned, spinning it around in a stretch and experiment as he surveyed the scene. At the moment, the droids were only B1s, he realized as his mind started up quickly as he scanned the area. Not any other kinds but he doubted it would stay that way.

Dooku was testing him.

Like leapt high into the fray, a perfect Aratu jump whirling Ben’s saver around in flawless arcs, his blade hitting his intended marks. He quickly made his way towards the door, taking out any droid he could. He had to take up a defensive position, wait them out, he thought, nearly hysterical.

He couldn’t let them die; he had been working so hard to keep them alive.

Boil. Boil. Boil.

Waxer. Waxer. Waxer.

Rex. Fives. Jesse. Tup. Check.

His silent chanted in his mind as he ruthlessly slashes through droids, trying to calculate everything in his head. Anger and frustration built up in his chest. He felt like was getting nowhere.

Something started to whisper.

Something dark and oily, with promises that weren’t verbal or understandable but somehow, he knew the intent. He stabbed a droid, his saber plunging down vertically and then viciously ripped it out, taking the head of another incoming. He had to calm down.

“There is no passion,” he exhaled, unsteady. “There is serenity.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, nearly reaching a semi good defensive position, he spotted Count Dooku frown.

The droids were thinning.

The victory did not last.

Out of the side doors, several B2 droids stormed in, already firing relentlessly. Luke leapt and landed on one, crushing it with his weight and saber, slicing through another nearby. He grinned. Dooku was going to be disappointed.

“There is no chaos,” he recited, feeling his heart slow into something enduring and steady. “There is harmony.”

Scattering few were left. Rolling droids screamed in, just a couple. Luke racked his brain for information. He didn’t remember what they were called but single shields, vulnerable when moving. He needed to figure a way to defend his position and destroy them. The boy forced pushed into another that landed them in a wall and went to attack the third type of droid. Running a bit further from the door was a risk but it worked. The droids folded up to move and chase. He dispatched them with swift grace.

Luke turned to grin at Dooku, a bit smug.

A single eyebrow was raised.

The teenager raised a hand, just a bit, and clenched his fist. Behind him, two droids strung up in the air by an invisible force and folded in on themselves, crushed. There was none left.

“Adequate,” Dooku acknowledged but he sounded a bit miffed.

Luke ignored him and ran to the door to check on his troopers. He stopped just as Count Dooku spoke, somehow making his voice louder without changing the tone or intonation.

“We are not done.”

Luke spun around, shoulders bristling and eyes blazing. This seemed to garner Dooku’s attention. “I did your stupid test. You said I could see them.”

“I did not,” Dooku replied and paused as the familiar traitorous besalisk came in sauntering like he owned the pace. He looked better than before, when he had been seen at dinner. The bruises from their fight had healed up and the stump where one of his arms used to be was cleanly bandaged. Luke narrowed his eyes.

“Oh look, it’s the traitor,” he grumbled, irritably.

Count Dooku allowed himself a smirk as he swept over to the former jedi to speak with him. He looked rather pleased with himself, like this was something he arranged, but trying to pass it off as chance. Luke knew better. He had almost certainly arranged this. “Ah… Krell. Just in time.”

“In time?” Krell asked.

“Would you like a rematch?”

“A rematch?”

If Krell didn’t stop echoing Count Dooku, Luke thought he might scream.

“With the young man who took your arm.” Krell realized what was being said and turned towards Luke, something gleeful and hungry in his eyes, as he figured out what was wanted from him. And it was something he was certainly happy to do it appeared. Not only a chance to beat Luke down in an environment where he would be superior, but also show off in front of the count.

Oh kriff.

Luke suppressed a wince and flared a glare at him instead to mask it. “I’d be delighted,” Krell practically purred. The teenager tried not to gag.

Luke’s eyes swept the room again. There was barely anything around here could actually use, much less something to his advantage. Discreetly, he swallowed. His chances for winning this one was even lower than the first time.

“Master Krell will get to kill what is behind that door,” Dooku added, gesturing to the door Luke had been defending. “If he defeats you.”

Luke’s heart raced.

Oh. OH.

It was easy to see Dooku’s game. He wanted Luke desperate, angry willing to do anything to save the troopers.

Dooku wanted him to use the dark side.

Or worse. Fall.

Ever since Luke had wrapped his head around who his father was, he had made a vow.

He would never Fall.

He wasn’t going to break that bow. Ever.

He won’t do that to Ben.

Krell didn’t seem to get it but then again, he probably didn’t know what was behind the door either. Luke took a deep breath.

In for four.

Out for seven.

In for four.

Out for eight.

Krell lit a saber, something sickly and bloody red. Dooku glanced at it, his face barely twitching. The besalisk grinned, a bit wild and more than a bit pleased.

Defensive position, Luke thought to start. He didn’t have to wait long for Krell to come at him. Even down an arm and with only one lightsaber, he was fast and strong. Luke could only try to be ready. It was just as hard as the last time, though, especially at the beginning, trying to defend against his barrage of attacks and blows. Krell’s physical strength was several times his own, with their respective species and Luke tried to calculate the best mix and match of moves and styles to meet him with between strikes.

Predictably, where Krell had strength and size that loomed over his opponent, Luke had speed and agility, moving in between the twirls of the saber, just at the right moment, which was absolutely crucial. Luke thought himself lucky. He was trained by Ben, a duelist whose greatest skill with a lightsaber was his impenetrable shield, not giving his opponent an opening to strike or move. Luke wasn’t as good at it, of course, but working with Ben and working with that style, he had to learn quickly where he could find and get through that type of shield and movements where there often appeared to be none.

Luke could find openings to at least avoid strikes, even with Ben. Avoiding Krell’s saber moves were practically easy in comparison.

Krell’s experience was an asset and a strength. The besalisk had been training since birth, he had decades on Luke of nonstop and constant training. Luke, however, quick to learn, had started late and wasn’t taught in the same environment. Ben didn’t have as much time to teach him, especially in the confines of their little ship. If he and Krell were in another environment, Luke might have been able to use his surroundings to his advantage. He may have had a chance.

He didn’t know how long the duel had lasted. He was pretty sure he had stood his own longer than he thought, but as all things, it had come to an end. In his case, hard, fast and cruel. Luke had a lot of endurance, Ben had certainly made sure of that, both physically and in the Force. Of course, his strength and connection to it, as it had rapidly grown over the years, had helped as well. Maybe Luke could have won this one, if things had been different.

But he was rather lucky Count Dooku seemed to want him alive.

Luke had been knocked to the ground, roughly, and a blade came down on his head. Upon rolling out of the way, he could feel the heat sizzle as it hit the floor instead, next to him. He blocked a few more blows but couldn’t seem to buy enough time to get up off the floor. Krell used the Force to make him rise before pushing him into the wall so hard it rattled his skull.

A red blade came down upon him again and Luke just couldn’t-

“Enough.”

Luke wasn’t sure what was happening, but Krell’s blade twisted and instead of cutting through his head, the saber scraped and grazed the opening between his gorget and his pauldron. Luke couldn’t help but let out a cry. It hurt, it was searing, and he could feel Krell’s satisfaction. Was it because he had beat Luke? Was it because he had wounded him? The boy tried to swallow down the pain, reaching out for the Force, for something, anything.

It helped soothe the pain, at least.

“You were meant to spar, not kill him,” Dooku’s lip curled in a bit of distaste, but his voice remained as poised and flat as always.

Krell just scoffed and let Luke fall to the ground, his back rubbing down the wall. Luke just tried to catch his breath as the besalisk’s attention went to the Count. “He’s not even Kenobi’s padawan. What could you possible want with this welp?”

Dooku’s eyes were cold but vaguely interested, like he saw something different. Luke didn’t even wait a moment more. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder, and ran to the door. He opened it and…

No one was in there.

Luke couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“You lied to me.”

“A gamble,” Dooku strode up next to him and shrugged. “Jedi are soft-hearted fools, and they often pass that sentiment onto their children.”

Luke didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

“But you aren’t a jedi.”

He hated that Dooku was right. Ultimately, however, it didn’t matter. He would live like a jedi. To his last breath. And perhaps, even after.

“You do not use your full strength,” Dooku hummed as he continued. “If you had, it would have given you some advantage.” He didn’t say whether that advantage would have led him to victory or not. And it didn’t really matter.

“My full strength?”

“Your blows could be much more powerful, if you are open to it.”

“You mean if I open up to the dark side,” Luke guessed.

“There is far more power than the jedi are willing to open to,” Dooku replied, his eyes flashing with something so quick, he almost missed it.

Luke just heard Krell scowl. He didn’t know if the former jedi was listening or even heard them, but he didn’t like them speaking to one another. If he was looking for accolades, Luke thought, a bit petty, he would have to look elsewhere. It almost made him chuckle, as it was rather amusing. He wondered when the besalisk would finally get it.

Dooku didn’t want Pong Krell. He was pretty sure the Sith wanted Luke.

Luke just smirked to himself, out of the sight of the count. Dooku would end up rather disappointed.

Luke would never fall.

“Congratulations,” Dooku’s assistant said to Krell, monotone with a bit of flatness thrown in for good measure. Luke couldn’t tell if she meant it or not. “You just beat a fifteen-year-old non-jedi child in a duel of strength.”

Maybe not.

Krell just scowled again.

She turned, mechanically, towards her master. “My Lord, we are approaching Zygerrian space. We should be there within the hour.”

Dooku nodded and swiped Ben’s saber from Luke’s hand before the boy could even try to keep it away. Pain raced down his chest and shoulders, through his arm. “We will be having dinner with the Zygerrian Queen,” he informed him, briskly. “I expect you to join. You will not attempt to flee or contact the Republic. Do not even think about it. Do not speak unless directly spoken to. Any attempts at sabotage – at any level – will result in the torture and expectation of the clone troopers. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My assistant will take you back to our room,” he continued, calmly. “You are to shower and dress with what is laid before you. She will give you some bacta for your wound. Clean it well. You will go to the bridge and await arrival,” Dooku added. “Understood?”

“Yes, of course lord,” Luke grumbled as he tried to temper his glare. “I do want something from you.”

“You may request.”

“I want confirmation about my troopers, that they haven’t been harmed.”

“My word isn’t enough?”

Luke snorted.

“Alright. I will send for my assistant to arrange someone to come by with proof,” he said after a long moment. “As I said, if you do anything, I will kill them.”

Luke grinned at him, all blood and teeth. “I understand. But Count, you should also know. If anything happens to them, you will not only lose my cooperation, but you may find that you lose more appendages than you care to miss.”

With a swish of his cape and a gesture for Krell to follow, Dooku was gone, leaving Luke, weaponless, surrounded by destroyed battle droids and an evil subordinate. She did not waste time, as she turned towards the door, barely pausing to ensure his path to follow. He just sighed and obeyed, trying to keep the pain as dull and to a minimum as he could. Not a word was spoken on their way back. As they reached the destination, she gave him instructions and a map to the bridge. Other areas were to be locked and or blocked off to him.

“It would be prudent to travel straight to your destination.” She gave him a small package and then she was gone.

Luke stripped, slow and methodical, carefully stacking his armor pieces neatly on the bed. He winced as he looked at them. They were in a bit of rough shape. He felt a little bad for taking them without asking.

But it had saved his life at the very least once on Umbara.

His finger trailed a gouge in the gorget as he set it down on the sheets. He took off his robes, sweaty, damp and dirty and folded them neatly. Taking deep and soothing breathes, he stepped into the shower and turned it to water. It was nice to get the sand out of his hair from the storm he and Ben had been stuck in and to wash the blood from his skin. Although he had wrapped the saber wound, it still hurt something awful as he showered. He didn’t take an abnormally long time, as eight years on Tatooine had instilled a need to conserve water, whether he meant to or not. He still used it instead of the sonic, however. It may have been rather petty but he kind of thought to use some of it so there would be less for Dooku and whatever other sentients were aboard.

He stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying himself off rather thoroughly. He rubbed and shook excess water from his hair and then washed his face. It had been quite some time since he had felt this clean. The shower was nice.

Luke got a hold of the bacta and put it over the lightsaber graze. The immediate feeling was agony at contact, and he leaned over the counter with a low, pained, groan. It took a few moments for the bacta to release some relief. After several moments of catching his breath and regaining himself, he left the lavatory and ran his eyes over the clothes that had been set out. His lip curled, subtly. Dark, ornate, high collar. Fancy.

Luke just rolled his eyes but conceded and carefully put them on. He couldn’t just play with the men’s lives, especially not with something so trivial as clothes. They were a bit large, he noted. He wondered who they had been originally made for. Luke winced. Oh, he was going to look a bit like Dooku, wasn’t he? The thought was a mite repulsive.

As he finished buttoning up, he looked down at the stack of armor pieces, his eyes once again tracing over every scratch and gouge. He had made a mess of it, he thought. He almost wished he was on a more conventional battlefield. Not this battle of wit and manipulation.

He needed a plan.

He wanted Ben.

Taking a few minutes to just breathe and mingle with the Force, he reached out – both in it and physically – grabbed hold of the pauldron.

He near dropped it immediately, his knees plummeting to the floor, alongside his breath.

Because… because…

Could it be?

It had to be.

He didn’t know how he knew but it just had to be.

Ben was alive. And he was awake.

He was coming. Luke was sure of it.

Even though he wanted to, for in search of the troopers, he went straight to the bridge. No one stopped him. Droids barely cast him a glance. He paused at the door of the room, far enough that it would not open automatically as of yet. He took a deep breath.

“There is not emotion,” he breathed. “There is peace.”

Luke might have laughed if the situation was not so dire. He loved the look on Count Dooku’s face. If only he could freeze it, to show it to Ben. It wouldhave made him laugh and Luke would have loved it.

“I told you to wear that was set out for you.” Count Dooku said, stiff with a click of his jaw. Of course, no one could quite tell what the count was thinking, least of all Luke, but one thing was for certain, he was not particularly happy.

“And I am.”

Goodness, he was such a smartass.

“You are wearing plastoid clone armor,” Dooku pointed out, clearly disapproving of that fact.

“I am your prisoner, Count, not your ally. It would be best to make sure others know, don’t you think? So, they don’t get the wrong ideas?” he suggested, slyly.

And there it was. The barest hint of a scowl. Was it bad that it felt like a victory? There was nothing more to say after that and Luke could only follow as the Count went to one of his ships. It was a little larger than his single fighter, as they were joined by the assistant and the former jedi traitor. The ride down was quiet. And no little amount of awkward and terrible.

Zygerria is…not beautiful. And that is Luke saying that who had found even some beauty in his home planet of Tatooine, one of near complete desert. There is something about the buildings, about the atmosphere that puts Luke on edge. He knows it is a slave planet, probably even more so than the home planet that he knows personally.

They landed near the palace, a giant building that towered above all others and stretched quite far. Krell kept a very strict eye on him as they walked through, Zygerrians in armor milling around. Dooku barely paid him any attention. He knew for a fact that Luke wouldn’t try anything.

Led into the throne room, a Zygerrian woman sat high above. The throne was rather ridiculous with a multitude of steps. Luke hoped they didn’t have to go up all of them. It would take forever.

He was kept out of the way by Dooku’s assistant as he spoke, prim and proper and nothing else. Luke could hear the distain, but it was covered quite thoroughly with flattery and demand. As he continued to speak, the besalisk traitor at his side, Luke looked around and studied the soldiers and guards, looking for weakness in both them and the building in him. He had to figure out where the troopers were.

By the time he came back to the present, most had disappeared, including Krell and many of the guards. The Queen had looked at him, her piercing eyes seeming to look straight into him. He shuttered. With a single finger – talon? – she gestured him over. Count Dooku stiffened and took a step back.

Swallowing harshly, Luke strode over.

“And who might you be?”

Luke tried not to gag and wrinkle his nose. He’d almost be anywhere but here at the moment. But he kept a great façade of delight and respect. She would get nothing from him. Her accent was grating, but that could be his bias against slave traders, which could only make him feel worse as he knows she is the queen of them. “Luke,” he introduced as he bowed. “Your grace.”

“Your majesty,” she corrected. There was a smile on her face, something faint and vaguely amused. The slight was not taken too badly, probably because of his young age and perceived naivety. But that did not mean he wouldn’t go above and beyond with his excuses.

“A thousand apologies, your majesty,” Luke amended, as he laid it on thick after the slight as he gave a bow. It was stiff and just deep enough to not continue the disrespect. He was holding himself so tense he thought he might just snap in half. “I cannot claim to have had the privilege of visiting, your lovely planet before.”

“It is a good thing you are here, now, isn’t it, child?” she giggled, light and faint. It was the perfect sound coming from a queen, but he just could not stand it; he couldn’t even stand the sight of her, much less the sound of her voice. “Even if you are a Republic agent.”

Luke just smiled, keeping his voice level and calm, just like Ben had taught him. Don’t show anything aside from what they want to know. “I fight with the troopers, that is all there is to it.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, he was fighting alongside the clone troopers, even if it had just been one battle.

“Perhaps we can persuade you otherwise.”

“I am a mere prisoner of Serenno’s count,” he admitted with his smile continuing to be a bit tight and tense. He had to think of something and fast. These people thought of power and money and little else. Contracts, contracts. “Loyalty cannot be bought over once a contract is sighed.”

Count Dooku raised an eyebrow.

He thought Luke slipped up, the teenager realized. Gave him information that he could use. Perhaps he did. But Luke thought about that, even as he made up his words, he wouldn’t find anything. There was nothing Dooku could get out of it, unless he tried to torture it out of Luke. There was no paper trail to find or follow. It was a contract to himself, to the Force, to Ben. A vow. Luke’s loyalty was to not be swayed.

“A child with honor,” she mused with a smirk. She found that amusing, he could tell. He hated the way she said it, like it was something pathetic and stupid, juvenile. “How intriguing. Would you like to join us for dinner? The talk may be dreadfully boring, but the food will be rather delightful.”

“I relish the opportunity to expand my palette,” he replied as he straightened his back. He kept his eyes just barely below her line of sight. And there was at least some truth to that. He did like trying new foods. “I am to go wherever the Count wills at this time.”

“Count?” The Queen questioned as her gaze swept over towards the Sith several meters behind and to the right of him. Luke glanced back at him with something in his eye that could only be interpreted as impish, like Luke was up to something. The Count’s back was absolutely straight, and his expression gave away absolutely nothing.

“He will be in attendance, your majesty.”

“Excellent,” she practically purred. “I look forward to it.”

Luke didn’t. In fact, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be attending at all.

Count Dooku tossed him in a room, gave him some instructions and notifications and then left. Luke just sighed. He wasn’t entirely sure what exactly the Count wanted from him. It didn’t take long, however, for Luke to find a way out of the room and take it he did.

The palace itself was difficult to navigate, but first things first. He reached out in the Force. What he was looking for was something he knew well, something that sang to him, which made it easier to follow. Ben had taught him long ago how to use the Force to keep others’ attention away from him and although he still used it, he also physically tried to keep out of sight of the guards and soldiers.

He found it in a room, possibly Dooku’s guest room, possibly not. It was hard to tell. Luke was just glad that the Count didn’t have it on him. No, Ben’s lightsaber was sitting on a dresser in the room, next to some paperwork. Grabbing the light saber of his guardian, he shoved it deep into his robes, out of sight and paused, before grabbing the paper too. Perhaps it would be helpful in some way. Then he slipped out of the door. Going back down the hall, the voice he heard…he would never forget it. He had never heard the Sith’s voice before, not in his time, but he knows it. And for the first time, he just cannot move.

“Long has Sith empires been built on the backs of slaves,” a man drawled. Luke swallowed and glanced around the corner through the door, just barely. He quickly spun back, so he was not to be seen. He was wearing a cloak in the holo call, something wrinkly and old underneath it. “To carry on this tradition…we will require… millions.”

He was talking about slaves. Slaves.

Luke had seen firsthand how the Sith’s plans had come to fruition. He would not let it happen this time. Not when he was around, armed with the knowledge to stop it. Whether or not he had the ability, it didn’t matter. He had to try.

“I assure the Queen’s defiance will not sour your plans,” Dooku assured.

The Sith practically scoffed. “If she fails to see the error of her ways, end her rule.”

Luke didn’t wait a moment further. He quickly ran off, trying to keep his noise to an absolute minimum. He held his breath in until he got a plenty amount of way, he let it out, nearly hyperventilating. Because he got the breath out, he had a hard time getting it back in. It took him several minutes to recatch his breath. He stood up with the help of the wall.

“I don’t think you are supposed to be out here, kiddo,” a female voice called out from behind him, and Luke turned around to face her, keeping himself slower and calm to not bring up any more suspicion. She was leaning causally against the wall, by a corner, appearing fairly unperturbed with a smirk stretching her lips. Short hair, a jumpsuit, some necklace that dipped underneath the first layer of her clothes.

“Why do you think that?” he asked, rearranging his posture to make it seem like he wasn’t caught off guard, that he was supposed to be there. It didn’t really work.

“Smooth,” she chuckled as she shook her head. “I can’t imagine the Separatists or their allies willingly letting a jedi roam around,” she pointed out.

A gamble.

“I am not a jedi.”

She looked curious and unconvinced, but still amused. “Right,” she drawled as she stood up from the lean against the wall. She took a step towards him, and it took everything he had not to step back. “I’m actually here for you.”

“Oh?”

“You wanted an update on your troopers.”

Luke perked; he couldn’t help it. It may have given him away, but she appeared to know about him anyways. “Dooku sent you?”

She shrugged. “Sort of. Not really.”

“Are you going to snitch on me?” he asked, warily.

She cackled in a short laugh, like she found that concept absolutely hilarious. There was more to her than met the eye. He wondered who she was, and, if he had an ally in her. “Nah kid. Let’s go to your room to talk though.”

“I can’t see them?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?” he asked, suspicious and anger bristling in his shoulders. He was frustrated. It had been near over a day since he had been able to see the troopers and he wanted to know if they were alright. That Dooku hadn’t done something horrible to them the moment his back had been forced to turn. He was trying to keep them alive, and it was incredibly discouraging, and infuriating being blocked at every turn.

She sighed and gestured down the hall for him to follow her. “Come on.”

Grudgingly, he followed her. He didn’t have much of a choice. He may not have liked it but there was little he could do. She kept walking and he just tried to study her. The more time passed on, the more Luke was convinced he knew her.

“You aren’t one of Dooku’s people.”

“Nope.”

“You aren’t a Zygerrian.”

“What gave it away?” she chuckled.

He snorted. “Who are you?”

“Zora.”

“Any last name to that?”

She shot him a grin. “Does it really matter?”

He huffed, pushing down the growing irritation. For this, for what was happening, for Dooku and Krell and all the things he was going through. Things he could not yet change. “Maybe. You aren’t a Zygerrian or one of Dooku’s people so who are you?”

“I told you. Zora.”

He sighed, exasperated.

She surprised him with her next question. “Are you from the 501st or the 212th?”

“What?”

“You have 501stand 212th troopers with you,” she noted.

“How…?”

“Which one is yours?”

“Neither?”

“Whose padawan are you?”

“Spy or jedi?”

She startled, but just barely. He probably wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t been taught by Ben, who was very good at picking up cues of possible allies and possible enemies. “Be careful kid. Accusations like that can get you or anyone else, killed.”

Luke rolled his eyes as they got back to his room. As if he didn’t know that. But this, he was sick of not getting answers out of anyone. She started to look around, hands running along the walls and table. He stayed silent.

Zora, on the other hand, had no such inclinations. “So, ah…you didn’t answer my question. Whose padawan are you?” she asked, glancing over at him with a knowing smirk.

“Do I looklike I have any semblance of a padawan braid?” he grumbled, resentfully. He couldn’t quite help it. It was easier to not be, at least when Ben was around and teaching him and just being there. Even if he wasn’t actually Ben’s padawan, it was hard not to be upset about it. It’s what he wanted so much, for so long. He didn’t dare think of the possibilities, being in this time with the Order around.

“Oooohhh,” Zora smirked again, her eyebrows waggling in knowing. She didn’t understand, obviously, because no one really could. Not with his situation, really, but there was something about her that was different. Luke had to know her from somewhere. Somehow. “Someone is a little bitter. Left, kicked out or not chosen?” she asked, continuing to go through the room, opening drawer and checking the things inside.

He stiffened, still standing in the middle of the room, his gaze hardening. “I never really had a chance.” That was truth, not that she could get what he was saying. There was no jedi where he is from. Or rather, when. Hunted and killed off for having an ability with the Force. For trying to help people. All because two beings wanted everything, put what they wanted above millions and trillions of lives.

“Ooookkkkaaayyyy,” she drawled out again but something in her face sobered up. He fought himself, trying to go through all of Ben’s stories on who this could possibly be. It had to be someone Ben told him about. That was the only explanation. “What are you doing with those troopers?”

“Fighting.”

“Not a jedi, not a clone. Too young to be an officer. Who are you?”

“Luke.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m Luke.”

“You can’t be that dense,” she muttered and then stopped trifling through the room but there was a smirk. She saw what he was doing. Throwing her answers back in her face with his own, mirroring it. “Okay, we are clean.”

“Clean? We?”

“There aren’t any bugs or cameras,” she supplied and walked closer, pulling up a chair and sitting down. She gestured for him to do the same. He paused but obeyed, sitting in front of her so he could study her features, trying to figure out what he wanted to know. “So that means we can speak freely, although admittedly, still a bit quiet and careful. Who are you?”

“Luke.”

She groaned and sighed, leaning on the back of her chair. She was projecting some kind of mix of amusement and irritation. “Come on kid. Give me something to work with!”

“Are you a spy or jedi?”

She looked back at him, surprised. “What?”

“Spy or jedi?”

“What makes you think-,” she started but after a moment she just sighed again. She ran a hand through her short hair, glancing around, as if worried. Even though she had checked the room for listening devices and cameras, she was still a bit paranoid. “Both, I suppose.”

“A shadow,” he supplied with his guess. Ben had told him plenty about them, several of his friends and acquaintances went that route. “That narrows it down.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It did. If she knew Ben, he could figure out who she was.

“Do I know you?”

“No.”

“But you know me.”

“Not exactly. I might know of you. I’m not sure,” he admitted, truthfully.

“Well, you aren’t giving your identity and I’m not ready to give up mine so we can skip that for now. Why were you sneaking around? You weren’t escaping and if anyone caught you…big trouble. What was worth the risk?” She was curious, for certain, trying to discern something from him.

He hesitated and produced Ben’s light saber hidden deep in his robes.

She gasped but immediately tried to stifle it. He knew, she knew. “That’s…”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber, yes,” he said, his mouth now dry so his voice came out in some of a bit of a croak. Zora looked between him and the saber multiple times, trying to keep her eyes from widening so much.

“How did you get that?” she hissed with vigor. Luke blinked; he wasn’t exactly expecting that. “How did get Dooku get this? Is he…” she trailed off, uncertain. She couldn’t ask the question.

“He’s not here,” Luke replied, and he was silently so thankful that he wasn’t. On one hand, he could definitely use Ben’s help. He could just use him around. But, Luke didn’t know what state he was in and he certainly did not want Count Dooku to take any type of advantage of his guardian. “And he’s not dead as far as I know. He should be on his own ship, safe.”

“But his saber…” she murmured.

“It’s a long story,” he replied instead. Really, he just didn’t want to explain it. He had suspicions about who she was, but he couldn’t be sure yet, he had to wait and think. There was something about her voice, how she spoke when she saw Ben’s saber…. He shook his head. “You said something about my troopers?”

She glanced at him with renewed skepticism. Probably not the right terms, he thought. He wasn’t technically part of either group. “Well, they are all alive and unharmed,” she said bringing out a clunky comm and laid it in his hand. “Two number comm, direct line. You can’t see them, so you’ll have to take it on word that they are not injured.”

He nodded and swallowed, dialing.

They picked up a little slow.

Luke’s anxiety spiked. “H-Hello?”

A pause.

“Waxer? Are you there?”

Finally, finally. “Thank everything that is good, you are alive kid.” It was Waxer’s voice; Luke could identify it. He had paid so much attention to his voice since he had met him, Luke thought he could very possibly pick him out of a group of anyone. Identical faces or voices or not. Whatever, it didn’t matter. He had made a point to know his voice as best he could. Boil’s best friend.

“Waxer,” Luke sighed in relief as he realized with a fond smile. He almost felt like he was going to start crying from relief. He had near thought he would never be able to get to even just talk to them again. “I’m okay,” he promised. “Dooku talked with me, nothing too bad, and then locked me in a room by myself. I’m on Zygerria now.” He didn’t tell him about the Krell rematch; there was no reason to worry them.

“So are we,” another voice made its way through. Gruffer, more solid.

“Rex,” Luke said as he took a moment to put his finger on the voice. “Is everyone there? Are you alright? Dooku didn’t harm you, did he?”

“Dooku didn’t do anything,” Rex vowed.

“Can we do a roll call?”

“Uh…kiddo, we sound all the same,” someone chuckled, uneasily.

“Er… not exactly…” Luke admitted with a smile, but he felt a bit uncomfortable with the line of talk and conversation. “I can tell. I promise. “Please?”

“I’m here, as you know,” Waxer said, his voice kind and soft. Luke relished in the feeling, and he thought he would never get used to the intonation. He completely understood why this person was Boil’s best friend.

“And you heard me, Rex,” the captain replied.

“Yes,” Luke nodded.

“Boys?” Rex called, a bit quiet, like he was further away from the comm.

“Checkerboard reporting, sir.”

“Fives,” another grumbled.

“Jesse.”

“Tup,” his voice was a tad bit timid.

“Okay,” Luke sighed again in relief. That was all of them, that was all of them. That was a good to have that reassurance. “Okay. Good. Good.”

“How…how are you talking to us, Luke? Who is listening?”

“No worries,” Luke said, quickly, shooting a glance at his companion. “Just a jedi shadow. We are okay. Look,” he started, suppressing a wince at his lack of a current workable plan. “I’m trying to work on a plan to get us out of here. Since we are on planet and not in space, it might be easier.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“I’m no explosives expert,” he hummed in admittance. “But with the things I can scrounge up here, I think I can make a distraction. A pretty big distraction.”

“I like the way you’re thinking, sir,” Jesse replied, and Luke knew he was grinning. He rolled his eyes.

“Zygerria is a slave planet,” Rex replied, his voice slow and careful. “We won’t find any allies here or a way to get off the planet, easily.”

“The Republic is coming,” Luke vowed. And he knew it.

“How do you know?”

“I passed intel to the Council,” Zora leaned in so her voice would come through. “They know about Dooku, and they know that you are here too,” Zora explained. “They should be on their way here. A day, tops.”

“Even if they have both the 501st and the 212th at full strength, I don’t think they can take a planet like this,” the voice, Rex, he was pretty sure, sounded unsure, probably in turn of the unknown newcomer.

Luke swallowed. “Ben has been through this before. He knows.”

“What?” Fives startled.

“Ben?” Zora muttered, questioningly.

“Luke, General Kenobi is in a coma,” Waxer pointed out, gentle and patient.

Zora startled, sudden and she stared at him, eyes wider than he had seen anyone. She was shocked, worried. She knew him, she knew Ben. Which meant that Luke knew him. He must have heard of her from Ben’s stories. That makes her identity easier to determine. “What?” she whispered. “Obi…”

Luke tried to ignore her for now. He didn’t have the time to confront her or anything right now. He had to focus on the troopers and their escape. “He will come. I know it. I have faith in the Force, and I have faith in him.”

There was pause of silence and a sigh.

“Okay. I get you. Me too, I have faith in General Kenobi,” Waxer replied.

“And I’m not sure how much information Master Vos got from Ben with his psychometry,” Luke added. “But that might help too.”

“Psycho…?”

“Obnoxiously Long Explanations. They can come later,” Luke vowed, waving his hand. “Suffice to say, he will come.”

“Alright,” Rex said. “I believe you.”

“We do,” Tup added.

There was a scowl.

“You are hiding things.” Luke couldn’t quite make out the name of the clone for a long moment, but he went through what he knew about all of them and finally came to conclusion. The speaker had been Fives. Curious, intelligent, persistent and stubborn.

“If we make it out of this alive, I will tell you all you want to know, Fives,” Luke vowed, absolutely serious. Hopefully they would survive this. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about telling any of the 501st about what was happening, especially those close to Anakin Skywalker, but it was a price he could pay for their trust and cooperation.

Another silence and then concede. “Alright.”

“You didn’t tell him.”

Waxer didn’t know who spoke but there was an accusatory undertone. It was noted. He didn’t look around at them, just stared at the comm. “I didn’t want him getting upset to lose focus,” Waxer tried to refute. He kept a hold of the comm that had been given to them, his fingers curling over the surface. This was such a mess.

“You think that would upset him so much?” That was Check, Waxer knew. The undertone of his voice was a bit touched but there was no little amount of worry coming from. Waxer wasn’t entirely sure how to explain without saying everything that he knew.

“He’s from Tatooine,” Waxer croaked.

“So?”

Rex eyed him warily. He knew something, understood something, some kind of inference he got from Waxer’s statement. Waxer felt his heart speed up a little. He knew that Luke didn’t want others to know right now what was happening, he had made a note to keep it from the 501st. Waxer wasn’t entirely sure why, but he had quickly learned he could trust Luke. But Rex knew something, and Waxer couldn’t help but be worried on how much he would have figured out. It wasn’t all too surprising; Rex was smart and Cody loved him. “It is a slave planet,” Rex noted.

“Was he…”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Waxer responded quickly, staring at Rex directly in the eye. They kept eye contact for some time. “But Luke joined the battle on Umbara in an attempt to keep me alive. He had never been in a battle or war like that before, but he just jumped in. What do you think he would do if he found out about us now, in the situation we are facing?”

“He can’t care that much,” someone said. Waxer was still staring at Rex, so he wasn’t entirely sure who had responded to him. The skepticism was clear, but Waxer knew better. He knew how Luke talked about them, all excited. He knew the way he had ran and jumped and practically tackled Boil when he saw them on their ship, so happy and so excited to see him again. Waxer had little trouble realizing how much Luke loved in general. How much Luke cared about them already.

“Trust me. He does,” Waxer finally pulled his eyes away from Rex and sat down on the ground, his armor creaking. He imagined they would soon be taken to a facility and have the armor stripped from them and he dreads that moment. The uneasy and uncomfortable feeling that comes with not wearing armor in a hostile environment is not a pleasant one.

“What does that mean?”

“Fives…” Rex warned. Waxer saw him out of the corner of his eye. The captain’s brow furrowed

“I am sick of all the cryptic words and lies!” Fives pressed. “He knows something, and it makes me think, you know about it too, Captain.”

Rex swallowed. “I don’t know much.”

“But you know something.”

“Luke said he would tell you everything you want to know later,” Waxer said.

“Why can’t you just tell us now!?”

“You really think this is the best place for secrets?”

Every one of them snapped their mouths shut when the door opened and several Zygerrians came in, including the one that had technically bought them. It took a while, as the troopers weren’t the most compliant, but the Zygerrians did force them out of the room and into another. Waxer had a bad feeling about this.

“I hear you have secrets,” one of them said in a heavy accent.

“Our allies will pay well for Republic secrets,” another hissed.

Oh kriff.

“I think I know who you are.”

The words came out of Luke’s mouth before his mind had caught up with him. He and Zora had collected a few things for their rather, a bit explosive, plan and were scurrying around the halls, to enact it. They hadn’t talked much about other things aside from said plan during the time, but Luke was having a hard time keeping quiet. He just had to know.

“Oh?” Zora asked, rather amused. “Funny, I am pretty sure I don’t know you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he shrugged. “It is a rather long story. But Ben has told me a lot about many of his friends.”

“Ben as in…Obi-Wan…” she said slowly. She carefully placed an explosive near a column, out of sight. It would be hard to find it before it would be detonated. They had to be careful. Once it was done, they momentarily hid, away from a coming patrol of guards.

“Yes,” Luke whispered an affirmation.

“How do you know him?”

“Obnoxiously Long Explanation.”

“I heard you tell one of the clones that,” she noted. “What does that mean?”

“Just as it says. It’s kind of a game that Ben and I have played,” Luke explained, vaguely but there was a fond smile on his lips as he thought about all the times he had gone through that with Ben. Zora had obviously noticed.

“I didn’t know Obi-Wan had taken on another padawan,” she suggested.

Luke glanced away with a frown. “He didn’t,” he muttered. “Come on.” He gestured for her to follow as he moved through the halls further, tossing another small explosive in another hiding spot.

She seemed to know and understand that it was a sore spot and let it go. He knew he would not last. “You mentioned you think you know who I am,” she said, putting another of their bitty contraptions in another.

“That’s the last one,” he murmured. “The dinner should start soon. We need to figure out where the troopers are.”

“I can lead you to them,” Zora replied.

“Don’t you have to continue your mission?”

“My mission had already ended. Things had been sidetracked when the ship I was on didn’t go to the rendezvous point and was rather diverted when the Zygerrian queen sent our ship to Dooku’s. We’re good,” she explained, glancing at him with a smile. “I’ve got your back.”

Zora took the lead and started to bring him through the palace to the outside. Luke swallowed, uneasily. He knew he could trust her, but he didn’t like the feeling he got where they were hiding. They were out of the palace now, moving towards some of the other outbuildings nearby.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, after a while.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“Who do you think I am.”

Luke glanced down and smiled warmly. “He talked about you, in several instances. The jumpsuits, the short hair, the warming crystal that you are wearing around your neck.”

Zora narrowed her eyes.

“Ben talked about you. He carried the crystal on him for a long time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you,” he shot her another grin, practically beaming. “I am very happy to be able to meet you. A lot more excited than I am allowed to be and show right now. You are just as amazing and snarky as Ben said, Siri Tachi.”

Luke had nearly fallen over when he felt it. He had reached out into the Force, for the troopers, just as an assurance. He had been met with pain. His head had turned and stared at his companion, wide-eyed and fearful. Her mouth was moving, probably questions. He didn’t hear them. Instead, he just started to run.

They were hurting. They were hurting. They were hurting. Someone was hurting them. All he had wanted to do was get them through this. He just wanted to get them through this. How could he possibly failing so much so hard?

Fail. Fail. Fail.

He failed so spectacularly.

Getting into the small building was easy. Many guards were at the dinner for the Queen and the Count, well, guarding them. But Luke ran through without care, knocking any guard they came across, at the very least, unconscious. His heart had completely dropped when he had stepped inside. Because he knew what this place was, right when he saw the people that inhabited it.

A slaves’ quarters.

Not just that, a temporary one. Ones who were being sent off to auction.

“Free them!” he yelled.

His companion knew what he meant and immediately went to unlock the cages, using the force to take off the collars. Luke kept running. The urgency, the urgency, he had to move. Slamming open one of the doors – oh, they felt so close! – he had bowled over one of the Zygerrians, whipping out his saber and taking several limbs off of several more. They stood little chance. His shoulder and arm was burning like nothing before and it felt like he couldn’t quite breathe.

He didn’t stop until they were all on the floor, dead or unconscious.

“Hey, Luke you, okay?”

That was Waxer’s voice. Luke nearly wanted to cry. He didn’t want to look at them, at the damage done. He didn’t know if he said anything, but Waxer continued.

“We are okay, kiddo,” he kept going. “A few light electrical burns and some bruises, but nothing serious. I promise.”

Luke could still hear the yelling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, going through exercises and jedi mantra. He did this for several moments before he finally got the courage to glance up at them. All six of them, on their feet without aid. Waxer hadn’t been lying but that didn’t make things hurt any less.

Because he saw what was on their necks.

He had seen them before. On Tatooine when Uncle Owen or Aunt Beru had dared to bring him into town during their errands. On several backwater planets, controlled by Hutts or slavers or the scum of the galaxy, he and Ben had to stop at. He had nearly seen one on his own neck once. He had, however briefly, had seen one on Ben’s.

No, Luke would not fall.

But perhaps they would wish that was all he did.

“Dooku should die for this,” Luke croaked out as he stared at them. His vision was blurry. Tears, again, he suspected.

There was some talking. Luke didn’t hear it. All he heard was the crunching of the collars that were on their necks, falling off as Luke clenched with both his fist and in the force. Someone was holding his hand. He didn’t know who it was.

“So, what are we doing? It’s up to you, Luke,” someone was talking. Luke couldn’t tell who it was, perhaps he wasn’t listening hard enough. He wasn’t paying attention much. “Are we going to try our hand at escape? Or are we making an attempt on the Count’s life?”

#revolving suns au #time travel #fix it #time travel fix it #protective luke skywalker #luke skywalker #clone trooper waxer #waxer #captain rex #jesse #fives #tup #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper fives #clone trooper tup #revolving suns

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