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too-lit-for-fanfic · 1 year

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Desidirium - Magoa

Part II of ?

Masterlist

Part III

* A heartbreak that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions *

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Disclaimer - DNI if under the age of 18. This is a dark and mature story involving themes of torture, substance abuse, addiction, trauma, PTSD, injury detail

They finally meet! This is a slow-burn enemies/dislike-to-lovers story so please allow it time! This story will follow canon as much as possible, but there will be some deviations to make the relationship between Obi wan and the MC as realistic as possible. The timeline is also stretched over a longer period to allow relationships to form. Please remember, the characters are written realistically, not just to be liked.

Word count - 12.5k

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Aeris hurtles from her chair as soon as the tired cogs of her brain finally understood what her eyes couldn’t believe. Obi-wan Kenobi, as plain as day, weathered and wrinkled and looking as tired as she felt, staring emotionlessly into the middle-distance with the name ‘Ben’ and a hefty award plastered across the bottom of the flickering hologram. This bounty wasn’t from a private network with one of her informants, nor was it the codified channel used by Val Vondar for her assignments. No, no, this was a public channel. Any and all bounty hunters and those tuned into the right networks would stumble across this calling - an old man for a priceless reward - who would’t take it? The coordinators had essentially summoned every single capable sewer-rat with a gun and unleashed them towards one common goal, a red cross plastered across Obi-wan’s back with his own blood.

Daiyu was a central hub for this kind of organised crime, acting as a base of operations for many of the most prolific smugglers in the galaxy, and Obi-wan was here.

Shit.

Having forgotten about the drugs coursing through her system in her haste to prepare to leave the ship, the world spins on its axis and Aeris tumbles into the centre-table, cursing and hissing with foggy eyes as a shock of pain returns, hands coiling to cradle her torso.

“Fuck me.” She mutters disdainfully, reaching up from her position on the floor with shaky hands, tugging her jacket from the table into her lap. She protrudes a stim from its left breast pocket, considering the valuable item for mere moments - the competition she would have to ward off, the distance she would have to search for Obi-wan, the danger he was in - before deciding now was as best a time as any and jamming it into her exposed bicep. Though the adrenaline that coursed through her from the moment the stim activated did little to help her shakiness, her senses immediately cleared and the pain from her fall lessened, breaths deeper and eyes clearer, gasping as the feeling of freezing water lit up her nerves.

The brunette scrambles up from the floor and resumes her chaotic sprint to her sleeping quarters, grabbing a small bag packed with medical supplies from the rafters on her way. Sliding to her knees she hoists a metal sheath from the floor and pulls a small backpack, small and form-fitting, from a small hole, throwing the medical supplies in with an assortment of objects already in the bag. Sliding the compartment shut and shrugging a baggy grey t-shirt on from the mess beside her bed she hurries back to the centre console, hand groping the inside of her pack as her brows furrowed in concentration.

Her brows only furrow further as she retrieves a role of medical tape from her pack, immediately setting to hurried work with lithe fingers as she straps around her right side, off-coloured skin-coloured tape laid in two vertical strips, one as close to her spine as she could reach and the other directly on her side, with two smaller strips horizontally winding across her ribcage. A sound catches in her throat as the tape tugs at her tender skin, jaw clenched and teeth sunk into her cheek as she pats roughly at her side, ensuring the wrappings were secure. If she had time to spare she would have done the other side and her right shoulder, however, time, as always, was not on her side, and so she threw the tape back into her bag, lamely attempted to tuck the t-shirt into her trousers, and holstered the blasters and dagger that she had abandoned on the table. Shrugging the jacket and pack on respectively, her wide blood-shot gaze scours across the ship, mind reeling with memorised checklists as she readied herself for what was to come. She blinks owlishly, the drugs still not worn from her system though subdued by the stim, fingers tapping at the holsters at her hips as her mouth silently forms the words running though her brain - blasters, water, credits, stim, chargers, communicator-

Her wide eyes land on her final object, a familiar mask, face-down underneath the table she had just been resting on moments before. Scooping the mask into her hands and fixing it over her head she turns and strides towards the door, fingers flexing at her sides and heart beating in her eardrums. All emotion had fallen from her shoulders, and now only anxiety remained - this was going to be difficult, and she knew she underestimated just how difficult it would actually be. She would start with the roofs first.

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Aeris strides through the crowd, long purposeful steps guiding her around and between city-folk as her hidden eyes flit across every humanoid face that crosses her path. She had scoured the rooftops for an hour and had taken to the streets to try and gage a better look, everything seemingly orderly from the available roofs above. The streets heaved as peak-customer hours arrived, the tourists and workers arriving full-force and chocking the streets, the most affluent businesses of the district; slave auctions, cage fights, brothels and pleasure-houses, opening for business as twilight cloaked the streets. Crowds frustrated Aeris, they only slowed down business and complicated strategies, acting as a mindless hedonistic flurry of the ignorant and clueless, but tonight, fellow bounty-hunters also lined the streets, armour-clad and trigger-happy. Many individuals worked in teams, Aeris always alert to troops of two or three pushing their way through the crowds, clicking away on their communicators as they searched for the same goal. The prize of tonight’s endeavour had many hunters on edge, and the brunette had already seen several rival gangs fighting in the squares dotted around the city, trying to lay claim to a bounty any of them could claim. A gang war was taking place, men and women on either side dying and left abandoned in squat alleys to be found the next morning, half of the city scrambling for a prize with no knowledge as to, nor the incentive to even consider, why the bounty mounted so high. And yet, the tourists and patrons swanned around like the gaggle of clueless swamp-rats they were. Aeris had never been so thankful, slipping between the crowds unseen by friends and foes alike.

Sweat lined her brow as she continued to evade competition and search for the hardest man in the galaxy to find, neck aching as her head tirelessly swivelled from side to side, sore muscles carrying her miles throughout the city. Deciding she had exhausted the crowds to her best ability, Aeris turns to a nearby alleyway, sending the creatures hiding in the shadows scuttling as her footsteps echo down the dingy street. She would return to the roofs, and again and again until the bounty disappeared from her communicator and all hope was lost, or until the chemicals propelling her onward failed and she passed out in some unknown corner. Hoisting herself up a rusted ladder she emerges onto a rooftop, the area of the city she found herself in not as high-built or developed as the inner-city; neon lights still bathed many of the rooftops and streets in an unnatural glow and yet the stars were still faintly visible over the horizon. She pauses, hand on her hip as she glances down at the bustling street below, helmet visor glinting as her head turned.

Maybe this was hopeless, she muses, eyes scouring the horizon and the endless sea of rooftops that greeted her. The task seemed endless, searching for a needle in a haystack, except this needle could move and hide, and many of the straws in the haystack wanted to kill that needle. The chances of finding Obi-wan were slim to none, and the chances of finding him unscathed even less so. Even if she found the man there was no assurance that he would come with her, and even if he did how was she going to combat the pack of hunters surrounding the city. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to find the man - her life would be a lot easier if she just returned to her ship, forgot about this entire matter and carried on with her life, whatever life she was to have. And yet, the thought of leaving him to the mercy of the world seemed heartless, cruel, a feeling of guilt and shame hollowing her stomach whenever she considered the idea too seriously. He wasn’t her responsibility, she had had to remind herself, fuelling the bitterness on her tongue, when she had become frantic upon seeing a similar looking human man shot dead half an hour ago by an opposing hunter, if he died it would mean nothing.

She huffs, frustrated at the quarrel in her own mind, half-convinced she should head home and return to the blissed-out state she had been wrenched from, or heading into a nearby bar and drinking the night away, leaving the battle to more devoted hunters. Yet, she stayed put, arms crossed and helmet turned to the streets of the thriving city.

A flash of yellow has her head snapping to the left, heart freezing in her chest as a blaster bolt shoots across a distant pair of rooftops. There. She spots the hunter before she sees the bounty, a burley lizard-like creature poised cockily and holding his blaster like a famous movie-star, shooting blast after blast at an adjoining rooftop cloaked in shadow. All doubts fall from her mind as she sets off in a sprint in that direction, jacket billowing behind her and boots slapping against the ferrocrete cement beneath her, launching from rooftop to rooftop and counting the bolts across her vision - if she could see them, anyone could.

As she approaches, pulling a blaster from her belt and ducking behind a metal ventilator, she catches glimpses of obi-wan on an adjoining rooftop, his silhouette ducking and weaving behind a row of metal support beams and building equipment as bolts rain down from all directions, another hunter having joined the fray. She crouches for a moment, breathing heavy, checking the charge on her blaster and muttering to herself ‘insane, insane, insane’. She curses as she hears Obi-wan yell something indistinguishable as another round of bolts begin, raising on her haunches and focussing on the lizard-like hunter closest to her. It was a miracle Obi-wan hadn’t been shot yet; she would have to be quick.

“C’mon” she murmurs, lining the blaster with the reptilian closest to her. She was at a bad angle, sideways from the reptilian, crouching as to not be seen in the nearby fluorescence that lit the area in warm faded tones of purple and green, with an un-secure hollow tube as leverage for her slightly quivering hands. Her finger rests over the trigger, charger blaster humming beneath her fingertips, the echoing of blaster fire surrounding her - this was it, if she fired, there would be no turning back, not really.

She shoots, blue bolt searing through the side of the reptilians elongated face, his body tumbling from view and into shadow as his partner screeched in a foreign tongue. Bounty forgotten, the more humanoid reptilian turns its sights towards the brunette, who ducked from view as an orange bolt ricocheted overhead. The next bolt severs straight through the piping next to her head. She jolts, cursing, and lurches to the side as another bolt hits the spot she had just sat. Aeris huffs a breath, adjusting her grip of her blaster, and springs from her position, blaster aimed directly at the remaining hunter, blue bolt sending him tumbling from the rooftop before he could even blink. Aeris remains poised, both hands gripping the handle of her blaster and wide eyes sweeping the perimeter.

“Ben!” She calls, voice slightly modulated from her mask as she steps onto the rooftop where she had last seen the man. “Ben?” She echoes, blaster lowering slightly as she steps over abandoned construction materials, tarpaulin crinkling beneath her feet. “Obi-wan?” She tries, voice firm yet uncertain, he had to be close.

“Ben!” A child’s voice shrieks and Aeris nearly tumbles in her haste to turn towards the sound, purposeful strides taking her to the edge of the rooftop and gazing at the street below. Two hunters, one familiar and the other not, stand face-to-face with the man she had spent the better part of two hours searching for, and a young girl stood cowering behind him, hiding behind his robes as he stood, hands spread and empty as he stared hopelessly at the duo.

Of course- of course there would be more competition.

Aeris’ concealed gaze flickers between the two pairs, lip caught between her teeth, attempting to think of a reasonable way out of this. All thought fails when the male hunter raises his blaster.

Hurtling from the roof Aeris lands straight on the male hunters back, kicking him to the floor with a crash and staggering back into the nearest wall herself, grimacing at the tug and twist to her torso. A blue bolt already pierces his back by the time any other member of the alley realises she was even there. Aeris lunges for the female hunter who had began to raise her own blaster towards her, sending her blaster clattering along the alley as the pair grapple, Aeri’s left forearm shoved mercilessly into her opponents throat and pressing her up against the brick wall.

“Aeris-” The woman chokes, hands grasping at her forearm and shoulder, familiar gaze hidden behind a mask of her own.

“Toisa, don’t.” Aeris warns, blaster pressed against the woman’s abdomen, the pressure releasing from her throat. “Go home.”

Aeris had hoped the woman would have taken her advise, and yet she knew better. As soon as a steel blade glinted in her peripheral a bolt shot straight through the woman’s stomach, her body toppling sideways as the brunette steps back, shoulders heaving with a disappointed breath.

A resonant click has her head tilting towards the remaining pair in the alleyway, a shaking blaster reflected on her visor as her gaze finally lands on the aged man before her.

“Put the blaster down Obi-wan.”

Though it was obvious she would have to face the man, the legend murmured about in resistance headquarters and Empire facilities alike, a hushed whisper of the ghosts that haunted the galaxy, to see his furrowed brows and ruffled hair in the flesh was another matter entirely. Her breath leaves her as her wide gaze soaks in his frame, tall and proud, with familiar brown hair and bright blue eyes. However, he was a man changed from the horrors of Order 66, who had survived these past ten years by the skin of his teeth, mourning the galaxy that once was, and fearful of the new one that had come to being. His hair and beard now flecked with grey, his square shoulders now hunched and withdrawn, his bright eyes shadowed by a haunting darkness that had seemed to cloak the galaxy in the years of his exile. He had survived, unlike many, and that came with a price Aeris knew only too well. This man, this ghost stood before her froze her in her place, heart hammering beneath her ribs as the reality of what had been lost, and what would never come to be assaults her. The past was best forgotten, it only brought pain and misery whenever it resurfaced, and Aeris had spent a life time running from it. And yet, here she was, face to face with the biggest remnant of a bygone age. For a moment her breath falters, throat as if trampled by a stampede of Banthas, and the mask around her head only suffocates her further, pressure on her nape and temples feeling like an ever-tightening vice. The biting coolness of her blaster hilt in her palms has her battling off whatever panic and anger has festered, though it remained simmering at the surface, her palms clammy with anticipation. Behind her mask she winces, a crease forming between her brows, she had thought she would have been prepared for this; she was not.

Though he had aged since the last time Aeris had seen him - she had too - the same man that she had heard countless rumours about in her youth stood before her, wide blue eyes, with countless more wrinkles from the years of stress and guilt, staring back at her, glowering in distrust. Her gaze finally falls to the blaster aimed directly at her chest.

He doesn’t listen, weight shifting uncomfortably on his feet and hands gripping his blaster as if his life depended on it.

“How do you know that name? - the bounty is for Ben.”

That voice, that absurd Coruscanti accent, had a million thoughts and feelings better left forgotten slamming into Aeris like a sand-crawler. Leaving her gasping for air and delirious, blinking memories from her eyes and focussing on the pain in her ribs to keep her in the damned alleyway. She could ponder the woeful years of her life later, blissed out and unresponsive and watching the scenes dance across the ceiling of her ship for all she cared, not now, not yet. It wasn’t Obi wan’s fault, not really, and yet the memories that resurfaced had her anger spiking and frustrating growing - force help anyone else that got in her way.

“I’m with the resistance - I’m here to help you.” She reveals in a tight tone, finally holstering her own blaster. The adrenaline coursing through her system rendered her almost dizzy with anticipation, and having a blaster pointed at her own chest certainly wasn’t helping the concentration she was having to put into hearing Obi-wan over the sound of her own heartbeat. She spreads her hands to her sides, palms forward, and takes a step - she stops as soon as his blaster raises to her face.

“If I wanted you dead I wouldn’t have just killed those four hunters- be smart about this Obi-wan.”

“You want the bounty for yourself.” It wasn’t a question. The accusation has her eyebrows raising in approval.

“This is below my pay grade.” She remarks comically, head tilting in jest. To her expectation, the man before her, and the pair of beady eyes poking from behind his left leg, do not seem amused.

“Do you really have another choice?”

“Shoot you, leave all your bodies to be found by authorities tomorrow morning. A sad shootout between rival gangs, just like the rest of this city.” The young girl behind him gasps, head disappearing behind his sullied cloak. His cerulean eyes flicker from her concealed gaze to the bodies behind her, lines of age furrowed along his brow as he glares pointedly, grip loosening on his blaster with the sweat that coated his palms. The hunter before him stands unwavering, hands raised and visor trained on his hands.

“That’s cruel for a Jedi, though I suppose you aren’t one anymore.” She bites harshly, a surprising amount of venom lacing her tongue. She sucks a breath into her lungs, jaw clenching as his grip readjusts. They didn’t have time for this - her ears strained with the effort to stay aware of the quietening street behind her, and the fall from such a height had jostled her injuries far beyond she had planned, fighting the urge to shift her weight to relieve pressure on her side. His suspicions were reasonable, and that only frustrated her more; she would have to be patient. “I know your name - your real name, not the fake one you parade around with now. A normal hunter wouldn’t - surely you can connect the dots.”

He licks his parched lips, eyes shifting around her visor, searching for something the woman before him didn’t possess.

“Look,” she begins, taking another step. The blaster raises minimally. “We don’t have time for this. Half of the city is currently out looking for you and that kid.” She gestures towards the pair of beady eyes with a flippant hand. “They’re killing each other over you. If you think for one minute you’re making it off of this planet alive without my help you’re wrong. I have a ship, I can get you to the resistance and they can help you from there, get you back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in for the past ten years.” The venom in her voice is palpable yet smoothed over like an off-handed joke - the jedi’s shoulders raise nevertheless, the tension disappearing as soon as it had came - ah, sore spot. “If you’re not going to come with me tell me now so I can get out of here before I become another head to hunt; go back to my hole to hide.”

The berating of her own self has Aeris swallowing her pride and a muscle twitching in her jaw, but she had messed up with her frustration, she needed him to trust her.

She stands there for a moment, expectant, tension rolling off of her in waves as the streets around them quieten. Obi-wan doesn’t look as though he knows what to do himself, his frame rigid and blaster still aimed squarely at her chest. She watches as he glances down at the child behind him, a girl given the braid she had caught a glimpse of, panicked eyes snapping back to her figure before softening at seeing her stood in the same spot, hands empty and weight shifted onto her left hip.

Finally, he lowers the blaster, swallowing thickly as he tucks it into his waistband and extends his right hand, a sharp nod in agreement sent the bounty hunters way. Aeris ignores the tight feeling in her chest as she approaches, shaking her hands out at her sides. Three long strides has Aeris reaching out her own hand and clasping the older man’s in a firm shake, her helmet tilting in agreement.

“Good, let’s get-” A shadow of movement in her peripheral has her shoving the man to the side with her free hand and drawing her blaster with the other, blue bolt connecting with the approaching hunter’s leg and sending him careening off of the side of the adjoining rooftop, landing on the floor with a crash further up the darkened alley. His pained wails land on deaf ears as she turns to Obi-wan, the Jedi staring up at her with frantic eyes and his hand on the blaster tucked into his belt, crumpled against the wall and chest heaving. The young girl crouched beside him, terror on her young face twisting into curiosity as she stares up at the woman, marvelling now that she knew the blaster wasn’t for her.

“I’m not going to shoot you.” Aeris remarks, almost rolling her eyes as she extends her free hand, hoisting the man from the floor and watching him dust himself off. “We need to get moving,” as if to prove her point, the injured hunter cries out again, and the young girl grasps at Obi-wan’s robe. “you follow me and do as I say. Understood?”

“Yes.” Obi-wan grips his blaster in his hand again, though he seems wary of the weapon, holding it uncomfortably from his body and eyeing her own. Truly a Jedi, Aeris muses, and for a moment she questions the whereabouts of his lightsaber before she’s burying that thought and turning to the mouth of the alley and motioning with her blaster.

“We’re going back to the main square and blending in with the crowd. Don’t even open your mouth unless you need to.” She turns back to the unusual duo, visor mirroring their reflections back at them as her head tilts in a somewhat less-threatening way, hidden eyes creasing in an attempted smile. “And I’m Aeris.”

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The mis-matched trio, after filtering through the heaving streets and dodging hunters and salesmen at every turn, had found their way back to the docking bay Aeris had left her ship at hours before. The stim Aeris had taken before her departure had fully worn off and she now harboured an aching headache behind her eye sockets and along her temples, with her torso aching with every breath, adrenaline and fear keeping the pain at bay and spurring her on through the squalid streets, guiding Obi-wan and the child with her teeth grinding at every step and sweat beading along her brow, eyes flickering across every face in the vicinity.

Obi-wan wasn’t sure how he had come to land in the circumstance that he found himself, following a bounty hunter blindly through bustling streets with a child clinging to his robe behind him, and yet it was his reality. His mind had screamed at him the entire journey to flee into the crowd, run until his legs couldn’t carry him any further and hope that no other hunter found them, and yet he had followed along, heart in his throat and pulse in his ears as he followed the young woman, cerulean eyes locked on the green markings of her helmet. The woman - Aeris - seemed confident as she had led them through the city, a hand yanking on his shoulder whenever she made a sharp turn or dodged to the side unexpectedly, aware of things he simply couldn’t see. He didn’t trust her, he couldn’t, not with the way she had lunged from the rooftop and killed the two other hunters without regard, nor the way she had simply thrown him to the side earlier in the alleyway. No, she was dangerous - his eyes fall to the dual blasters strapped at her hips - and yet that was exactly what the needed, another person to protect Leia, to protect him until he completed his mission. She was quiet and intimidating, amber visor offering nothing in return except his own reflection, and perhaps that was exactly what he needed, for now.

Obi-wan crouched beside the hunter with Leia huddled on his other side, the young girl staring expectantly at him. He turns towards the masked woman, who watched unmoving over the crates they hid behind at the swinging doorway of a squat metallic structure. “What are we doing here?”

Aeris doesn’t turn to regard him, her fingers tapping against the metallic crate as she watches patrons enter and exit the open doorway of the docking bay, catching a glimpse of white armour within.

“That’s the entrance to the docking bay.” She begins, Obi-wan turns to regard the doorway, Leia even poking her head up to see the open street before them. “That’s our way out of here - my ship’s just on the other side.” She curses as a trooper clad in white enters the establishment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Stay here.”

Before Obi-wan can protest she jumps up from her position, leaving him to watch after her as she saunters through the doorway, the man turning to Leia with a frown and a wave of his hand.

“Aeris, here to collect U-wing Corsair from docking bay 12.” The brunette chatters to the woman at the front desk - a wooden table half disintegrated with blaster holes across its front. Right elbow propped on the tabletop to release some pressure, her eyes follow an Impirial trooper shuffling through the building, opening cabinets behind the female Zelosian. The woman, who looked eerily similar to a human aside from her unnaturally vibrant emerald eyes and the slight green hue to her skin glances up with a bored gaze, rolling a purple fruit Aeris didn’t recognise against the desk top.

“Honey,” Aeris bristles at the nickname, fingers clenching around her belt from where they rested. “haven’t you heard the news? All ships are grounded until the Empire finishes their sweep of the quadrant.” The woman flips her thick dark hair over her shoulder, exposing an intricate pattern shaved into the side of her head, and glares pointedly at the trooper rummaging through the cupboards. “Ruining all business for the night, as usual.”

“What?” Aeris’ voice is tight with frustration, following the Zelosian’s gaze to land on the trooper pointedly ignoring their conversation. “You don’t understand, I’m a bounty hunter, I have to be off planet tonight.”

“Honey, if there was anything I could do to help you I would - all our ports are full and we won’t make a single credit until we can let you leave. The guards have already shot a man who tried to leave earlier - I’m not going to stop you, but they will.”

With a deep breath Aeris pushes herself away from the desk and strides towards the furthermost doorway, hands burrowed into her jacket pockets and shoulders squared. As soon as she passed into the first docking bay, eyes landing on a row of empty ships, two white-clad troopers immediately turn towards her, blasters held leisurely in their hands. She ignores them, pointedly staring down the row of ships as she progresses, but the troopers stand before her before she can even pass the first pair, the tall men standing shoulder to shoulder, their helmets tilted to regard her with disinterest.

“Can I help you?” She questions, hostile and defensive. Her head is tilted to regard them but her focus never falls from the blasters between them.

“The docking bay is closed, no ships are to leave or enter before mandatory checks have been completed, by order of the Empire.” One of the men asserts, modulated voice slicing the thick silence with an air of authority Aeris despised.

“Why? My ship is in order, it was upgraded only recently.”

“Empire business, none of your concern. This will surely be resolved by the morning and you will be free to leave.” Her weight shifts onto her left leg, her eyes flickering between the men with her lips pressed into a thin line. Fuck.

“I’m a spice runner, I must leave tonight.”

“Haven’t you heard? There’s a reward going tonight worth far more than any spice run you surely have.” She doesn’t fail to notice their hands fall to their blasters, fingers gripping the handles evermore tightly. She couldn’t take them on, not unless she wanted the entire Empire on her back, nor would it do to have her reputation linked to possible rebellion. The soldiers do not appreciate her stubbornness.

“Is there a problem?” The one on the right questions, deep voice lilting. She imagines the thud his body would make against the floor after firing a bolt straight through his head.

“No.” She hisses, hands balling into fists inside her pockets. “I will return tomorrow, but if you so much as touch my ship I will find you.”

“Have a good night ma’am.”

Obi-wan scrambles from his position behind the stack of crates as Aeris re-emerges from the squat building, right hand frustratedly tapping against the sheath of her blaster and boots kicking up dirt behind her.

“Change of plan.” She mutters as the pair rejoin her, Obi-wan throwing a distrusting look in her direction.

“Why?”

“The Empire has the whole planet locked down - no ships to leave or enter before tomorrow morning, I guess that means until they find you.” She turns left down a shadowed street, stepping over a drunk strewn along the floor, bottle still in hand. “There’s no way to get to my ship until tomorrow, we can’t wait that long.”

“What now?” The young girl asks, startling Aeris with her soft voice and sparkling eyes reflecting the signs around them.

“I know a man who can help us. He’s... unusual, but we can trust him. Good news is he isn’t far.”

The trio walk in silence for several minutes, Aeris’ head constantly swivelling from right to left and from the rooftops to the gutters, hands resting on her sheathed blasters as Obi-wan and the girl trail behind, Leia taking to swinging Obi-wan’s hand with her own despite his protests. They had made it about halfway by the time Obi-wan begins to speak.

“How come we didn’t come to this friend of yours at the start?” Obi-wan questions softly, Aeris’ head tilting in his direction. “before you guided us into streets swarmed with Imperial officers?”

“You really don’t trust me do you?” She snarks back, steps slowing to walk near shoulder-to-shoulder with the man.

“You haven’t given me reason to.” That damned voice, Aeris’ heart rate picks up at the mere sound of it, and not for the sake of some childish fantasy. The spike in anxiety has her frustrated, levelling the man with a sour look from behind her mask that she is sure he can feel.

“I killed five people to keep you safe, one of them a trusted colleague. I’ve sacrificed my ship for you - I would be off planet by now with all my belongings if I had just turned you in when I had the chance.” She lists, pondering her own stupidity for taking up this challenge. “You can trust me.”

“And who is this friend?”

“Not a friend.” She corrects quickly, voice firm, facing forward to avoid Obi-wan’s scrutinising gaze. “He’s a smart aleck and a horrendous con-artist, but he’s useful. We help each other with things to do with the resistance.”

“What were you doing here? I don’t take it you just stumbled across us by chance.” The greying man persists, Aeris regarding him with an exasperated gaze, eyes focussing on the slope of his nose to avoid his piercing gaze. No matter how weathered, the man retained that Jedi scrutiny seldom found in the galaxy.

“I’m a bounty hunter, this is the place for people like me.” She waves a hand, motioning vaguely to the dark and dampened alley they were currently walking down. “And what about you? What are you doing here Ben? This isn’t the place for a retired Jedi.” She whispers the last part, acutely aware of listening ears and prying eyes.

“No.” He agrees, regarding a questionable puddle with a barely concealed pursed lip. “I was collecting my daughter from her mother but we accidentally boarded the wrong transport vessel. We ended up here and then you found us.”

Aeris regards him with a side-long glance, disbelief written plainly across her features. Obi-wan stares back into her visor, faux-sincerity lacing his voice yet the tension to his shoulders betrayed his act. Not only did the girl look nothing like the man stood before her, nor did the accents match, but her constant reference to him as ‘Ben’ instead of anything akin to ‘Dad’ had alerted her to their non-familial relationship as soon as she had encountered them - a child in panic does not refer to their father as ‘Ben!’. He was also just a plainly bad liar, at least in relation to this, the words sounding foreign on his tongue and his panicked gaze had been evidence enough that the story wasn’t true. Aeris glances at the child with curious eyes, the girl dutifully walking beside Obi-wan with his hand in her own, wide eyes taking in the streets around them and little boots avoiding all filth in her wake - who was she?

She doesn’t bother to pry further, they would be out of her hands soon. The girl was irrelevant really, Obi-wan’s reason for being on such a seedy planet immaterial; all that mattered was that she did her best to keep him alive, beyond that her hands were clean. Conscious clear she could rest at night; the last thing she needed was another regret to keep her awake at night. Curiosity itched at the back of her brain, and for the countless time that night she questioned whether she should have involved herself in this matter at all.

“Daughter? I didn’t realise Jedi could have children.”

The older man instantly stutters at the remark, gaze snapping down at the young girl staring up at him with large innocent eyes, before returning back to the fiery woman beside him, catching sight of his own stunned amber reflection.

“Yes.” He clears his throat, begging the force that the matter would be dropped and that Leia wouldn’t suddenly gain any questions to ask him. “Not originally, but now that the Council is over...” he trails off, a deer caught in headlights, swallowing thickly to relieve his parched throat.

“There are some perks to the Empire after all.” Aeris jests, her own throat tight but for entirely different reasons. The topic of the past had her mind reeling, the drugs leaving her system making their presence known with the faint memories that played on the dark walls around her, her amber gaze fixed on the man before her or the path ahead to avoid confronting memories she had spent a lifetime forgetting. Comedowns were always the worst, never mind with such a man causing her memories to spill through the cracks and into reality. He was proof the galaxy had changed, a ghost of a memory walking amongst the present, and it was terrible to be reminded of what she had lost in the ten years since his fall.

“And you? Family?”

The question was innocent, a means to converse and relieve the tension that had existed between the pair since their introduction, nothing more than a man trying to be social and find familiarity with the woman guiding him to safety. Aeris’ step falters and Obi-wan immediately notices, her foot catching against the floor and shoulders tensing, blaster she held inching closer to her body. Voices echoed around her skull and roared in tandem with her heart, hallucinations as vivid as reality flashing behind her eyelids whenever she blinked, faces of glee and horror taking turns to haunt her reality. Guilt churned her stomach and anger had her biting her tongue.

She doesn’t grace him with a response, shoulders tight as she quickens her pace, leaving Obi-wan to walk behind her as she leads the way. Pressing his lips together in a thin line Obi-wan bows his head in reflection, resuming the silence that had encompassed the group on their journey, an air of tension even silencing Leia’s quiet mutterings.

-------------

“We’re here.” Aeris finally breaks the unsteady silence, halting before a rusted door with one hand on a blaster, tilting her head to listen through the steel door for a moment.

Obi-wan gazes up at the ferrocrete building before him, brows furrowed and free hand running along his beard. He had been here mere hours before to deal with some false Jedi. His mind calls back to Aeris’ comment of a ‘smart aleck’ and ‘con-artist’ and his stomach immediately drops. Surely not. He hoped they had stumbled across another building housing an entirely different con-artist, and just that the stresses of the day had him confusing buildings and forgetting himself.

He hoped he was mistaken, but as he follows the masked woman before him his hopes are soon quashed as she calls out.

“Estree!” She calls into the dim hallway, finally arriving at the main foyer where he conducted most of his ‘business’.

The room, as always, was dim and cloaked in shadow, grime and dirt and rust woven throughout the framework and gracing the walls and ceiling with a character akin to a scrapyard more than a place of refuge.

“We’re closed for business!” A disembodied voice calls, Obi-wan and the child joining Aeris’ side as she crosses her arms, the visor adjusting to the dim lighting and allowing her to finally spot the man’s hunched figure behind his ‘desk’. Grated windows accented every wall, allowing a sickly green hue to cascade the room, the bright signs outside a world away from the reality within. A large metal desk with a wooden bench sat in the centre of the room, the only piece of furniture within the room aside from the many cables and pipes that lined the closest wall and ran along the ceiling, feeding a pale blue fluorescent beam of light that shone the table in a sickly sheen. Aeris always imagined this a place of torture and ill-fortune, and had been surprised when she had discovered its true purpose; refuge and freedom. Cool, damp air assaults her senses and caused her hairs to stand on end as she leans into the room, hands grasping at the metallic doorway.

“Haja!” She calls again, steps echoing off of the steel floor as she saunters into the room. “Cowering behind a desk? Really?”

Haja, a human with a mouth too big for his own good and hair inter-galactic models would be jealous of, stands from his crouched position behind his desk, the small light above offering little with his face remaining shrouded in shadow. Aeris thought he looked far too intimidating for the actual man he was, perhaps that was the reason for such moody lighting.

“I thought you were the Empire! You can’t blame a man for trying.” The illusion shatters as his voice wafts through the room, airy and light-hearted, a constant smug lilt accompanying his chatter. “What’re you doing here? The entire city’s gone crazy.”

Aeris steps further into the room, Obi-wan and the girl close behind. “Yes, I know. I’ve just been in it.” She has to fight to not roll her eyes, re-adjusting the collar of her jacket to cover the nape of her neck, the coolness of the room a stark contrast to the muggy humid air outside. “I have guests and I need your transport to get off planet for a while.”

Haja approaches, hands floating about his head as he gestures extravagantly, frown tugging at his lips and brows furrowed. “No, not today. My services are closed until the Empire aren’t breathing down my neck.”

“I’ll fucking pay you if that’s what it takes.” Aeris’ voice is cutting yet no true animosity conveyed - they knew each other too well for that. Her arms cross as the con-man approaches.

“No, no.” The raven-haired man sighs, crossing his arms similarly. “I’ll help, no charge but only because it’s you, and-.” His dark eyes regard her before turning to Obi-wan, recognition wiping the disinterest from his face in an instant. “You!” The tanned man points accusingly at Obi-wan who matches Haja’s shocked gaze with an unimpressed stare. “You’re-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Obi-wan dismisses, watching as Leia scuttles off and plops herself in a corner to play with her mechanical ‘pet’.

“You guys know each other?” Aeris questions, breathing deeply as she removes her mask, holding it against her hip and running a hand through her thick locks, attempting to smooth her bangs in the process. The action catches Obi-wan off guard and it takes much effort not to flinch in shock. The woman beside him was far younger than expected, appearing mid-to-late twenties with the remnants of youth woven amongst the scars and scrapes that littered her pale skin. She was a pretty girl, with angular brows and sharp features, with a straight nose and cutting jaw. Her features were softened by the mass of hair that framed her face in hap-hazard waves, short dark bangs falling into her eyes and curving behind her ears from which multiple piercings dangled, gold glinting in the dim lighting. Like her frame her face was thin, hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes extenuating the sharpness to her gaze and harrowed stare. An almond shaped eye was framed with a blossoming bruise, now faded in muted tones of pink and yellow - many thanks to the stim that had progressed the healing - a scar split her right brow and another carved its way through her thin lips. A deep-set pair of amber eyes watched him expectantly, flecks of honey and molten lava in their depths. Not the woman he had imagined, but not miles apart.

“Aeris, we cannot trust him. He’s a criminal. He pretends to wield the force in exchange for scamming credits from poor families.” Obi-wan reasons, pulse racing at the thought of putting his life in the hand of the fake Jedi that stood before him, inherent smugness rolling from him in waves. Haja’s gaze finally leaves the fading bruise on Aeris’ cheek at the accusations.

“Look, have I made a few bad decisions? Sure. Do I feel bad about it? Sometimes. Do I like credits? Yeah. There’s so much stuff you can buy with credits.” He sasses, right hand on right hip. Aeris watches on amused, distrust written plainly across the Jedi’s face. She had had a conversation akin to this with the con-artist many years ago - it was comforting to know his reasoning hadn’t changed.

“Ben, I’m a criminal.” She interjects, free hand pushing a stray hair from her eyes. “If you trust me enough to come with me you can trust him.”

Obi-wan sends her a flat look, cerulean eyes searching her own, forehead creased and hand rubbing subconsciously at his jaw. The distrust was not unwarranted, in fact, Aeris only respected him more because of it.

“And even if you don’t trust us, what choice do you have?” Haja offers unhelpfully, Aeris sending him a glare as Obi-wan’s attention turns to the man, arms crossing across his chest.

“Haja-”

“You remembered-” The look of awe on the con-artists face is quickly wiped clean, replaced with a sincerity Obi-wan hadn’t seen in an age. “Look, I’m trying to make amends. I got that family safe, and I’m gonna do the same for you.”

“He’s not lying.” Aeris offers, shrugging her shoulders as she holds her helmet in both hands, fingers running over the grooves to the mask. “He charges but he always gets everyone where they need to go. People can’t do this for free, there’d be no fuel to run the ships otherwise.”

Obi-wan remains facing Haja, chest and shoulders tense as he regards the man with one final look. The greying man had every reason to be wary of strangers with the life he had led the past decade, the galaxy a different place to the one he had fashioned with the Order all those years ago. He could never truly be safe, never truly hidden, the ghosts of the past always finding their way to seep back into his reality, and now here he was, daughter of his best friend... brother, depending on him to get her safely back home. The irony of it all could make him cry had he not shed all his tears all those years ago, mourned the loss of a family he was never allowed to truly have. He had been betrayed by the only person he had ever regarded as family, and that was a betrayal not easily forgotten, no matter how hard he tried nor how much he meditated. The woman beside him had given him no reason not to trust her, yet, and he supposed that was as good as he was going to get in this day and age, at such a difficult time for the galaxy.

Releasing a deep breath Obi-wan bows his head, hands tucking into his sleeves and grasping his own forearms as he nods. “Fine.”

There’s a beat of silence, an awkward tension hanging thick in the air - it was evident Obi-wan didn’t trust either of the pair, anxiety woven through his features, face tort in an effort not to frown or show his worry. There was so much depending on this, depending on him, depending on them, and they didn’t even know. Haja, in a misguided attempt to quell some of the tension, opens and closes his mouth like a gaping fish, and before Aeris can tell him to ‘shut it’ he mumbles, sincerely and regretfully.

“If I’d known what you were...”

Obi-wan blinks in surprise, often forgetting the reputation that had once proceeded him, the respect his kind had, the safety they had brought. However, though he tried to continue to be the man he once was, he was no longer the devout man he used to be, no longer capable of instilling the hope he once had; a piper without a pipe, a preacher without a choir, a singer without a voice. No, it didn’t matter anymore, the fact he was, or is, a Jedi immaterial. “It doesn’t matter what I am. I just need to get the girl home.”

“And you will.” Haja attempts a genuine smile but it comes across more of a grimace than anything remotely friendly. “You can prepare yourselves with whatever I have in here, I’ll show you how to get to the ship.”

Aeris finds herself conversing with Haja as Obi-wan and the girl meander near the doorway, conversing quietly between themselves. The con-artist had guided her to a semi-private corner with a hand on her elbow, regarding her with a curious gaze.

“What’s going on here Aeris? I’ve never seen you so involved in this line of work.” Haja questions, curiosity and suspicion swimming in the depths of his eyes as he regards the woman before him, searching her eyes for an answer, knowing the truth wouldn’t truly part from her lips.

“I’m involved with the resistance all the time-”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I mean.”

“Look, the man’s a hero, a living legend, this isn’t just any refugee I pass off to you or other Republic smugglers. He needs protection - he wouldn’t have made it this far without me, “ Her gaze slides to the aforementioned man, watching him crouch down to talk with the young girl she had yet to actually converse with. “I’ll be passing him on as soon as we reach Tala and her people; it would be wrong of me to let them go alone.”

“Uh-huh.” He hums, nodding his head and raising his brows in scepticism. “And the kid? Who’s she?”

“Haven’t got a fucking clue - says she’s his daughter.” Aeris leans against a nearby crate, arms crossed and shoulders shrugged.

“Believe him?”

“Do you?” His grin tells her all she needs to know. “Doesn’t matter anyway, she’ll be gone with him within the day.”

“And what about this, huh?” He motions vaguely to his eye - the wrong one - and Aeris has to catch a grimace, having forgotten about the bruising. Her fingers tap against her bicep. “What’s that all about?”

“A bar fight. You know how it is.”

He hums, suspicion written plainly across his face. Aeris didn’t blame him, though his interest had her alert and uncomfortable, his disbelief was warranted, she wasn’t even entirely sure herself why she had been so adamant to help Obi-wan.

Well, she catches herself, that wasn’t entirely true, but she could pretend to believe so for now - that was far easier.

“One day you’ll actually tell me the truth and that’ll be the day I finally smuggle us into one of those high-rise restaurants to celebrate.”

“Tell the man who lies for a living the truth? Any day now.” She mocks, Haja shrugging in faux-guilt with a grin.

A comfortable silence settles, and whilst Haja busies himself in a nearby crate, looking for a blaster to defend himself with because of the ‘damned lunatics’ roaming the streets that night, Aeris’ mind wonders. Her ship being seized had really thrown a spanner in the works; all of her supplies were on board and she had barely stepped into the hanger before she had been stopped. As head-strong as she may be, and as much as she may have harboured a deep dislike of medical equipment, she needed her supplies. Her injuries, though healing slowly due to the stim she had taken, ached. She had to fight not to squint in the dim lighting of the hideout as a headache bounced around her skull, feeling as though she had a dreadnaught crushing its way between her ears, and a particular spot on her right side felt like a sparking match whenever she breathed, most of her weight leant through the shoulder and arm she had pressed up against a sturdy enough crate. The bruises that caked her body throbbed and shrilled on their own accord.

She felt slow, and slow was as good as dead. Her best attribute was her speed, prideful in her ability to dance around whoever got in her way, quick on her feet and agile; without it, they were in trouble, she was in trouble. No matter how much she willed it, she couldn’t sleep away a broken rib or two, and time was scarce, as always. No, she needed some more supplies, the stim’s and bandages she had stashed away for emergencies ultimately offering little more than fuelling her with adrenaline and roping her body together until it fell apart - underneath the support it was still broken, and she didn’t have anything to fix it, but Haja would. She knew he wouldn’t say no, he never had the very few times she had ever asked him for anything, and yet, she hesitates, fingers drumming away as she watches his movement with a blank-stare, looking but not seeing. She had learnt from past mistakes of relying on others, of owing a debt to others, harsh lessons not so easily forgotten or reasoned with. Her head turns slightly, watching Obi-wan and the child from her peripheral, some mechanical toy bopping between the pair. She needs those supplies.

“I actually do have another favour to ask of you before we leave.” Aeris’ voice is tight as she clears her throat, sweaty palms rubbing against her biceps. Haja rolls his eyes in exaggeration. “I need any medical supplies you can spare.”

This has the man uncrossing his arms and straightening his back, unfamiliar concern flashing across his face and eyes quickly surveying her body. “What- why? What happened?”

“Nothing to worry over.” She dismisses, waving a hand dismissively. His gaze is fixated on the healing bruise on her cheek, eyes furrowed in concentration.

“Need me to beat someone up?” The flat look she sends his way has him rephrasing. “Need me to watch you beat someone up and cheer you on?”

“Haja, it’s fine.”

“You always say that-”

“And I mean it. I had a bounty go sideways and got a bit bruised up. Nothing serious, I just can’t afford to be hurt right now and all my supplies are on my ship. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get done with this.”

“Aeris, you’re a friend,” her lip purses as she watches him head to a nearby shelf and begin rummaging through its contents. “no need to worry about debt with me. I’d rather spare a bacta-patch than see you dead.”

“Not wanting to see me dead doesn’t make us friends.” She holds out a hand as he hands her a set of four stims, tucking them into her pack before zipping it shut.

“In my book it does.” He holds out two bacta-patches which she quickly refuses, hair swishing as she shakes her head. “Take it,” he urges, shaking his hand. “I won’t tell you where the ship is unless you take it.”

Muttering a ‘thank you’ the brunette reluctantly takes the patches from him, stuffing them into the bottom of her pack and ensuring the zip is secure as she stands back to her full height.

The pair quickly re-join Obi-wan and Leia, not daring to waste more time than necessary. Haja quietly passes a location chip to Aeris, who tucks it into her jacket as he explains the plan. “There’s a cargo port on 27th street, you know the one?” Aeris nods along, readjusting the straps of her pack. “it’s fully automated. They won’t be looking for you there. These are the keys for transport 8; it’ll take you to Mapuzo, they’ll be waiting. Just follow the coordinates and you’ll be fine.”

He was nervous, his hands fiddling with the ends of his Jedi-like sleeves, a small frown tugging at his lips. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can, the Empire are everywhere and no doubt they’ll be on there way here to the known Jedi’s hideout.” The man untucks a blaster from his belt before motioning to Aeris with his free hand.

Aeris nods in thanks, tugging her helmet onto her face as she bids him goodbye at the entrance to his abode “Be careful.”

“You be careful.” Haja warns the trio from the entrance to his abode, pale lights illuminating his back and casting shadows against his front. “Aeris, I expect to see you within the month.”

Her smile is hidden, a hand raising in farewell as the man fades from sight, pack heavy against her back and boots scuffing against the floor as she sets off, coordinates in hand.

-------------

“Well, this is it.” Aeris stares at the lift before them doubtfully, hand tapping against the hilt of her blaster.

The only way up to the docking bay appeared to be a lift, wide enough for a small cruiser to land in, rusted and charred beyond belief. The steelwork releases a shriek as soon as her boot makes contact with the patchy surface. She shrugs and motions Obi-wan and the girl to follow her, selecting the highest level before watching the doors stutter shut behind them.

“Are we sure this is safe-” Obi-wan cuts off as the lift lurches, beginning to rise at an excruciatingly slow pace, metal gears screeching all around them.

“It’ll do.” Aeris shrugs, watching the ground below. “Just don’t touch anything.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze snaps up to meet Obi-wan’s, who was staring at her with his arms tucked into his sleeves and crossed across his chest. “For getting us this far.”

The finality to his voice has her head tilting, and then she realises. “Ben, I’m not leaving you once you get to the ship.” She sounds as if she is explaining something to a child.

“There’s no need for you to come, we’ll follow the coordinates and be home before we know it. Thank you for getting us this far safely.”

“These coordinates are to the planet, do you know where the resistance are in Mapuzo?” His blank stare and creased brow tell her all she needs to know. “And I suppose you think there’ll be no Empire presence on that planet either? I’m not sending you off to just die on some other planet, I’ll drop you off at their door and be gone.”

“I’m capable of looking after-” The ire to his voice fuels her own.

“Yourself? Your daughter? Seems like I had to save you both earlier.” Aeris’ voice tightens the more he tries to resist. She didn’t want to be here, why couldn’t the man just accept he needed the help and let her get on with it? “And that was against some hunters, how do you think you’ll do against the Empire?”

“You should know that I am more than capable against the Empire.” He didn’t know why he had said that, he didn’t even fully believe himself. But, he wanted her gone, and hopefully playing on his reputation would achieve that.

He was wrong.

“Oh yeah?” Her tone is scathing, hands motioning to emphasise her point. “You against the Empire? How did that go last time? The Jedi gone, millions dead, the galaxy fucked. That wasn’t even just you, you had a whole army of Jedi and it still didn’t fucking amount to anything. Or am I remembering the last decade wrong?”

She can feel the blood pumping through her ears as Obi-wan’s face reddens.

“You have no idea what happened.” His voice is uncharacteristically resentful, the shadow to his eyes darkening. Resentful at her ignorance, at the blame so easily thrown, at the memories that resurfaced enveloped him like fire. Beneath it all he wanted nothing more than to just disappear, whither to nothing on the spot and forget this entire ordeal; this had been part of the reason why he had hidden for so long, people sympathised with the Jedi, many didn’t, and some harboured a dangerous concoction of both. He feels like crying, the doubts and loathing that had festered for a decade roaring their ugly head, he felt like screaming insults until his voice was hoarse, the anger, frustration and guilt hollowing his chest. “You people who weren’t involved have no idea and you shouldn’t act like you do.” His defensiveness undeniably resonated from Anakin, the image of his amber eyes and charred skin burnt into Obi-wan’s memory by fire. The people of the galaxy truly had no idea. “If you hate the Jedi so much why bother to keep us safe? You know who I am.”

“I don’t hate the Jedi.” It pains her. Her anger had bubbled over and oh it was so much better when she could just forget. The fluorescent vials in her pockets weigh heavy - she wouldn’t be able to indulge herself for quite some time. “I- You can’t do this alone Ben, stop fooling yourself and making this more difficult for me. Think I want to be here? D’you think I want to be a target for the Empire? No. I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do. It was a battle to get to you, and it was a battle to decide to get to you. Stop trying to make me regret helping you because it’ll end with you both dead and another day for me to rue.”

Before he can answer the lift grinds to a halt and the steel doors creek open. Aeris wastes no time in striding from the lift, blaster in hand, and begins to sweep the area. She calls something to Obi-wan about readying the ship but he doesn’t hear her, eyes glowering after her figure in the darkness.

“Ben,” Leia’s soft voice and hand tugging at his robe has him glancing down at her, frown and gaze lifting. “are you okay?”

“Yes, little one.” He mutters, striding into the cargo bay with Leia at his side. “I just, lost my temper.” Leia shuffles ahead and Obi-wan instinctively pulls her back to his side. “Careful.” He stresses, eyes sweeping the cargo port, the dim and grimy structure heaped full of machinery offering him little comfort. “This is a cargo port, not meant for people.”

“Then they won’t look for us here.” Leia’s optimism is unmatched, and quickly squandered as Obi-wan continues.

“Well, not unless it’s a setup.”

“Is it that hard to believe you might have friends?” She pauses for a moment before stepping in front of the man, arms swinging at her sides, and walking carelessly backward as she talks. “Look, since I met you I’ve been chased, shot at, I almost fell to my death, and now there are Inquisiting people after us.” The frown on her childlike face seems unnatural. “If somebody is offering us help, I think we should take it. Why don’t you like Aeris?”

The question has Obi-wan choking and looking around the room for the aforementioned woman. She’s nowhere to be found.

“I don’t trust her.” Obi-wan corrects. “I don’t know her and she’s dangerous, and she seems to not like Jedi very much.”

“She’s part of the resistance, that’s why she’s helping.”

“We don’t have any proof she’s part of the resistance.” He reasons, Leia’s brows creasing in thought. “And resistance member’s aren’t usually bounty hunters. Bounty hunters have an allegiance of their own.”

Leia’s lips purse.

“And what do you think of her?” Obi-wan questions, curious, but firm in his view; they couldn’t trust her, not yet, not now. Children did always have an interesting way of looking at things though.

“I like her, I think she’s cool.” Obi-wan nearly cracks a smile at that. “She’s a bit scary and the mask is really scary.” Leia motions to her face. “And she’s always fiddling with her blasters.” Obi-wan nods, he had noticed that too. “But she saved us from those other hunters and is leaving her ship behind to get us somewhere safe. Even if she’s a bounty hunter, I don’t see why we wouldn’t trust her.” A pause. “Now, come on.”

As Leia continues on to the depths of the cargo bay, heading towards the remaining ship docked at the platform, Obi-wan crosses his arms, watching after her youthful stride with a tired and sorrowful gaze. She was proud and confident, trusting and sincere, what he would have imagined Padme to be like as a child. With hair like her mother and eyes like her father Obi-wan couldn’t help but reminisce.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” Obi-wan’s head tilts, admiring the sassy attitude that had her hands resting on her hips. “you just remind me of someone.” She did; a split mirror image of her parents; Anakin’s sass and Padme’s reason, their confidence had combined to create a headstrong girl. For a moment he wonders if Luke is as wilful. “She was fearless, too, and stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn.” She continues on, Obi-wan surveying the room behind her.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!” Obi-wan chuckles.

“Was your friend a Jedi too?” She questions, gazing back at him. His cerulean eyes fall to her and he hesitates. Padme was a lot; a good woman, a dependable ally, a dear friend, a steadfast leader, a loving wife to his best-friend and an excitedly-loving mother.

“No, she was a leader. She died a long time ago.” She was not a Jedi, but she was so much more.

Leia’s mood diminishes, fingers fidgeting with one another as she tries to find the right words. “I’m sorry.”

Leia’s apology almost has him crumbling - he was sorry, he was so, so, sorry. “Me too.” The greying man wanted to apologise, throw himself at her feet and grovel, tell her how proud her parents would be of her, how much she looked and acted like her mother, how sorry he was that he couldn’t save her, or her father. But her doesn’t; Leia had a mother and a father that loved her dearly, a home to be safe in, a planet to one day rule like her true mother once had. There would be no point in bringing up ghosts of the past.

The steel door behind them swings open with a clang and the pair duck behind the nearest crate, Obi-wan pressing a finger to hips lips. Heavy footsteps resonate throughout the hanger, and the familiar hiss of a lightsaber igniting has his hairs standing on end.

“Obi-wan...” The third-sister calls in a sing-song voice, saber buzzing menacingly beside her and illuminating the dim room in a red hue.

“Leia, get to the ship if I-” Obi-wan cuts off as a blaster bolt whizzes overhead the pair freezing as the Inquisitor exclaims in surprise.

Aeris crouches on a raised platform that circles the entire perimeter of the cargo bay, blaster clasped in her gloved hands and heart in her throat. Fuck. Her head spins as she peaks over the barrier she hid behind, Third Sister surveying the room with a scowl and cast in red and shadow.

The pulsing saber at the woman’s side has Aeris’ heart-rate increasing with every agonised hum, death and torment carried on its menacing tune. She had heard that noise before, and it only brought horror and torture in its wake, feeding off of the screams of its victims and the blood of the fallen, the saber’s red hue mocking those it had killed, those its user had willed it to kill. The blood it would spill if the woman managed to get her hands on any of the trio dotted around the cargo bay.

“Oh, you have company.” The woman mocks, dark eyes sweeping across the room leisurely, languid steps carrying her across the room and heavy leather boots clanging against the steel below.

Aeris releases a steady breath as she readies another bolt, whispering a silent prayer to the force as she peaks over her cover.

“Your fear betrays you, Obi-wan.” The woman taunts, Aeris’ sights locked onto her black chest-plate, following the woman’s movements through the machinery that cluttered the room.

“And your friend? They reek of it.”

Aeris mutters a snarky comment as she fires, bolt redirected without a care by the woman’s hissing saber. The Third Sister spins in the brunette’s direction, and Aeris spots Leia taking the moment to sprint towards the awaiting ship. Aeris crawls to her left, aiming to get far enough away to fire another shot without being seen and staying close enough to the staircase to make a quick escape.

“Underneath that fear I sense anger.” The Inquisitor observes as she strolls towards Aeris’ location, the bounty hunter attempting to ignore the woman as she continues to crawl silently. Obi-wan, from the opposite side of the room, wracks his brain for what to do. “I sense potential.” Aeris freezes, brows furrowed and bile rising in her throat. “I am here for Obi-wan, you will die, or you could join me, we could help one another. You could be great.”

Fury blooms in Aeris’ chest at the insult of an offer, springing from her location and firing once again, silently begging Obi-wan to get a move on and head towards the ship. The Third Sister is quicker this time and catches the glint of Aeris’ helmet before she can duck for cover. Aeris curses as the platform beneath her begins to shake, launching from her position and running as the Inquisitor follows her with a dark gaze, hand outstretched and platform falling away behind her. The room fills with a roaring cacophony as the platform collapses, steel scraping the walls and crushing machinery as it clatters to the floor.

Aeris sprints, boots slapping against the platform and breathing ragged, firing a bolt or two to distract the woman but futile in her efforts. Her sights lock onto an approaching stairwell as the ground beneath her continues to shake and slide. She lunges for the study staircase as the last of the platform gives way under her. Obi-wan fires from his position, bolt hitting the Inquisitor in the back yet absorbed uselessly by her armour, and she turns in his direction as the remnants of the platform collapse behind her.

Aeris groans as she blinks back her consciousness, having momentarily blacked out after careening down the stairs and crashing into a metal wall halfway down. She grunts, heaving herself onto her hands and knees and wiping dust from her visor, her shoulder throbbed and her ears rung but thankfully her helmet had absorbed most of the impact instead of her head; her ribs were another matter entirely. She winces and grimaces as she straightens, a shaky breath sucked into her lungs and hazy gaze sweeping the room before her. She couldn’t see the Inquisitor, but she also couldn’t see Obi-wan, and that had her heart racing.

As she shuffles her way into the room, teeth clenched on her bottom lip to prevent her from making any sound, she hears heavy footsteps to her right, blaster aimed in that direction as she shuffles the opposite way.

“You don’t have to worry Obi-wan, you’re not going to die...” The Third Sister’s mocking voice taunts, care-free and sinister. Aeris’ lip pulls into a flat grimace as the woman’s voice echoes from all directions, emanating from the darkness like a being of its own. “today.”

She spots a brown cloak disappearing around a crate to her left and carefully treads in that direction, eyes wide and flitting. She finally fully spots the man as she emerges round the corner of another piece of machinery, focus solely centred on reaching the man before her she doesn’t notice the small wire beneath her, foot slipping and torso twisting unnaturally to steady herself. She gasps in pain as she catches herself, the short breath from her lips having Obi-wan’s eyes snapping in her direction. The relief written across his face at seeing the woman alive quickly dissipates as the Inquisitor alters her direction, heading towards the sound as Aeris’ chest heaves, blaster pressed against her chest as she tries to gather her bearings.

“Lord Vader will be pleased.”

Aeris watches as Obi-wan’s face contorts, worry morphing to dread and denial as the woman rattles on. “You didn’t know.” Her voice is soft like honey, thick enough to drown in. “He’s alive Obi-wan. Anakin Skywalker is alive.” Aeris’ head tilts as she watches Obi-wan pale, his cheeks seeming to hollow and his stare vacant. His world disappears beneath him, chest rising and falling with a mind of its own, memories of fire and despair the only thing he could see, could hear.

“And he’s been looking for you for a long time.” The brunette hoists herself back up onto her haunches, readying for a fight as the woman’s footsteps edge closer. Obi-wan remains motionless, eyes following a scene no one else could see.

“And I will be the one to deliver you to him.” Crates crash as her temper flares, the crates between the hiding pair tumbling as she approaches, both of them flinching back to avoid being hit. She begins to round the final crate, Aeris aiming her blaster as she watches her boot emerge from the darkness.

“Third sister! I can stand the reek of your ambition no longer.” A man’s voice calls, thick with gravel and authority. The mentioned woman turns, hands grasping her saber tightly as they converse. Aeris pays neither of them any mind as she scurries beside Obi-wan, kneeling at his side with a hand grasping his shoulder.

“We gotta get out of here.” She hisses, the stunned man blinking before nodding along.

“I’m not the best pilot, get the ship ready and I’ll join you. I’ll distract them as long as we need.”

Despite shaking her head in disagreement Aeris goes hurtling towards the ship, glancing back as a shocked gasp reaches her ears. She catches an image of a red saber penetrating a chest clothed in black before she’s turning back to the ship, teeth grinding as she sprints. Aeris crashes through the doorway, nearly knocking the child over in the process as she shoves the chip containing the coordinates into a valve near the doorway. She lands in the pilot’s seat and begins readying the engines, gaze flitting up to catch Obi-wan sprinting towards the ship, firing bolt after bolt at the approaching Third Sister, the Grand Inquisitor’s body abandoned in a growing pool of blood behind her.

“Go!” Obi-wan calls as soon as he enters the transport shuttle, slamming his hand against the button to close the doors as Aeris pushes the engines, sending the ship full-throttle away from the cargo bay platform. She doesn’t release the steering until they are in outer-space, the city-scapes of Daiyu nothing but a glimmer on a grey planet behind them, and trudging through the stars at a leisurely pace, the chunky shuttle not built for high speeds nor combat. She releases the steering, hands coming up to tug the helmet from her face as she sucks in a deep breath, sweat matting her hair to her forehead and a grimy shine to her skin. They were gone, she breathes, ignoring the ache to her chest and shoulder, they were safe, for now.

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too-lit-for-fanfic · 4 months

Text

Desiderium: Lacuna

Part III of ??

Masterlist

Part IV

* A blank space, a missing part *

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Disclaimer - DNI if under the age of 18. This is a dark and mature story involving themes of torture, substance abuse, addiction, trauma, PTSD, injury detail

The start of the diversion - this is just to allow for some bonding before the main story begins! Please remember, the characters are written realistically, not just to be liked.

Word Count - 10.5K

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Alteration to the timeline - Star Wars a New Hope actually happens 12 years in the future from the Obi-Wan Kenobi Series, not 8. Obi-wan is also younger because his ages seem to correlate until the ‘New Hope’ film, so I adjusted them to match. Yes there is an age gap, sue me.

Age at the time of ‘Revenge of the Sith’ (the fall of the Republic) - Obi-wan 28, Aeris, 16

Age at the time of ‘Kenobi’ series (this story) - Obi-wan - 38, Aeris - 26, Leia & Luke - 10

Age at the time of ‘Star Wars a New Hope’ - Obi-wan 49, Aeris - 38, Leia & Luke - 22

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Aeris remains in the small cockpit far longer than she should have, watching stars slowly glimmer past as she sucks deep breaths into her lungs, helmet in her lap and head rested against a stiff headrest. Her brows furrow and lips turn into a flat grimace as she steadies her breathing, fighting against the fire flickering against her side and clogging her lungs with smoke. She couldn’t breath quite right, ribs protesting with every breath, and even the dim flickering of the distant stars aggravated the thudding of her skull. Nausea battles with her subconscious as her left hand gingerly crosses her stomach to kneed at the bruising at her right side, withdrawing with a grimace as soon as her fingers make light contact with the source of her trouble. Something was broken, no doubt about it.

Her mind wonders to the bacta-patches she had stashed away in her pack, now abandoned in the main foyer, frowning at the realisation she would likely have to use one of them soon. She had been fine, she had been doing better, and then the damned Sith, or Inquisitor, or whatever they liked to call themselves, had sent her plummeting down a stairwell. Her hand finally manages to rest against the tender flesh, massaging gently over the bruising as she watches the stars, willing for a miraculous recovery before she re-enters the main hull. Using a bacta-patch was one thing, explaining her state to Obi-wan was an entirely different matter: how would he trust her if she couldn’t even keep herself unharmed? He would know this wouldn’t have been caused by her fight with the stairwell, he would ask questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer.

Not only that but bacta was unbelievably valuable, especially with the Empire draining supply for their legions that currently fought off rebellion in the furthest corners of the galaxy. It was rare, it could save lives, was a broken rib or two really worth such precious medicine? Though she hoped otherwise, Obi-wan may need it further down the line, perhaps even the girl he had with him. She could pass it on to the Resistance, save an innocent life, a fighter who would go on to save hundreds more, a leader driving the rebellion. It may be a matter of life or death, and what would Aeris have used it for? Pain. Another life lost, another regret. Her frustration at her own situation has her pressing too harshly and flinching away from her own hand, head tilting as her teeth catch her lip, cursing quietly. No, she would wait, and if she so needed she would use the stims first. Besides, Obi-wan should be gone soon, and she would be able to retire back to her own ship and hide from the galaxy for a week or so, nurse her wounds and return back to business as if nothing had happened.

Images of Obi-wan in the cargo bay suddenly come to mind, and Aeris barely has a moment before images of the Third Sister flash before her closed eyelids and her eyes snap open in alarm, the warning she had shared with Obi-wan bouncing around her dull skull. Aeris had been distracted in the moment, occupied with getting out of there alive, but now that she could sit and truly think, the more none of this made any sense. She had heard the Third Sister’s threats, the warnings she had given: ‘He’s alive Obi-wan. Anakin Skywalker is alive.’. Anakin Skywalker, that was a name she hadn’t heard in an age; she knew who he was, of course, Obi-wan’s Padawan from the days of the Jedi Republic. The golden boy of the century, with the locks to match. The man to bring balance to the force, peace to the galaxy - she nearly scoffs at the prophecy; what balance had he brought? Wars had been fought over his destiny, and yet the galaxy still ended up in the hands of the Empire, with a lunatic in a helmet at its helm. If she ever managed to get her hands on that man, he would beg to be taken by the Empire. The founder of the prophecy would beg for satan himself. Then the Third Sister had mentioned said lunatic herself ‘Darth Vader will be pleased.’ - what had he to do with Obi-wan and Anakin?

Her brows furrow minimally as she recalls the moment, Obi-wan’s panic, his inability to seemingly do anything at all.

The Empire hunted Jedi, that was common knowledge, and it had made sense that they had tried to detain Obi-wan, a past figure-head of the Jedi Order, when they could, but Darth Vader himself? There was more to this than Obi-wan had said, and Aeris was startlingly aware of exactly how little she knew. She knew of the rumours that surrounded the Sith Lord, the darkness that emanated from the cloaked man, the terror and death that accompanied him like a shadow, the misfortune and tragedy that hung across his shoulders and embraced all those he came across. She wanted nothing to do with that monster - she wanted him dead, tortured, humiliated, but a galaxy between them would hardly be enough, never mind harbouring a man he actively hunted. If Vader wanted Obi-wan, the Jedi would be far better killing himself now and ending the torment; no matter how far he ran, Vader would find him. Even the resistance couldn’t save him.

With worry gnawing at her chest and the startling awareness of all the eyes of the galaxy turned towards her, Aeris’ hand stills its movements against her torso. If Vader was after them, she was dead, they were dead - If she stayed in this cockpit any longer she would surely go mad.

After several more moments, and mustering the courage to stand, Aeris hoists herself from the pilot’s seat, throwing one last glance at the gravelly navigation display before exiting the cockpit.

The young girl sits alone on a long metal bench in the main body of the ship, and her wide brown eyes immediately snap in Aeris’ direction as the door hisses shut behind her. Placing her helmet down on an empty mesh crate Aeris’ eyes flicker towards the girl; she had been fiddling with her hair, the long brunette locks twisted in a messy braid, half-finished. The air is empty and yet tense, and it is only then Aeris realises she had yet to actually talk to the girl.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is flat and gravelly, a stark contrast to the spike to her heart at having to converse with a child - would the child understand everything she said? What tone should she use? She wasn’t a cheery person with a lighthearted laugh nor a light voice, and that was the only way she had seen people talk to their children before. She was never very good with children. She had once been better, but after so many years in her profession they seemed as alien as some of the other species that inhabited the universe.

The girl, startled at having been directly spoken to, flushes, cheeks and ears turning pink as she hides the poor braid behind her back with a flick of her wrist. “Yes.” The child looks concerned, and for a moment Aeris thinks she is frightening her; she supposed a blaster-wielding stranger that had killed people in front of her was not a person the girl would confide in. “You’re bleeding.”

Oh. The confusion on the woman’s face and a quick glance down at herself has the child motioning to her head. Aeris rubs a hang gingerly across her hairline, fingers dabbling in a small stream of blood slowly ebbing its way towards her brow. She doesn’t flinch despite the familiar sting. She lamely attempts to rub the blood away, only smearing it back up into her hairline.

“What’s your name?” It seemed rather silly to ask that question now, but the child smiles so she supposes it was the right thing to say.

“Leia.” Aeris’ head tilts minimally, a small crease forming between her angular brows. She had heard that name before.

“Pretty name.” Leia is practically beaming, her full attention on the woman before her. Aeris doesn’t like the attention and divers her gaze from the child, chest uncomfortably hollow. Her eyes scour the dim room, surprised to find no trace of Obi-wan near his ‘daughter’. ‘Where’s Obi-wan?”

“He’s doing a Jedi thing.” Leia rolls her eyes, kicking her feet playfully. “He went over there.” She points to the dim furthest part of the ship, and Aeris nods in thanks before heading in that direction.

The cargo ship is tall and spacious, with only a few crates and miscellaneous items to clutter its wide interior. It hadn’t yet been stocked for transport and most of the netting attached to either wall lay empty or strewn about the floor, only a few crates large and dangerous enough to be secured. It was dim, not intended for humans to occupy, but the small overhead lighting sufficed, illuminating the shadows in the darkest corners just enough to see the ship’s interior outline. The scent of plastic and metal and something musty hangs thick in the cool air, dissimilar to the cargo bay they had just departed from, distinctly mechanical and yet not unpleasant. It takes Aeris longer than expected to reach its furthest wall where Obi-wan sits cross-legged on the floor, eyes shut and hands cupped in his lap, palms up.

She watches the man meditate for a moment in silence, one hand grasping the other and a sourness overtaking her throat. He looked so... peaceful. Obi-wan’s face seemed the most peaceful she had seen it over the last few hours, lines of age almost entirely vanished and shoulders squarer than when he had first tried to intimidate her in the alleyway. The furrow between his brows that never seemed to shift all but gone, tired eyes shut and their accompanying shadow obsolete. His breaths are steady and slow, a calmness emanating from him and encompassing the corridor, cool air not so biting, the rumble of the ship subdued. Aeris has every intention of ruining that peace.

“Obi-wan?” She approaches, footfalls heavier with the intention of grasping the man’s attention. He doesn’t shift for a moment. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a beat of silence, and Aeris is about to speak again, far louder, with worry and pain agitating her attitude, before he shifts and begins to slowly raise from his position.

“Yes, yes, I just needed a moment.” Obi-wan mutters, straightening his robes and turning towards the maskless woman, an air of peace settled over him like a blanket. Aeris nearly marvels at his ability to calm his nerves after such an ordeal, instead her lips press into a thin line, one hand resting against her belt. Obi-wan’s eyes finally land on her face, satisfied with his robes, and said peace immediately morphs into something akin to concern. “You’re bleeding.”

“So I’ve been told.”

His cerulean eyes don’t fall from the abrasion, watching a scarlet droplet slowly gather at her temple.

“It’s fine, I don’t even feel it.” She dismisses, not entirely sure why she is justifying her wellness to a man she had met mere hours before. “Who’s Anakin Skywalker?”

If her presence hadn’t disturbed the peace enough, her question had all but shattered any comprehension of it all together. Obi-wan’s breath catches in his throat, eyes snapping down to her own and matching her fiery gaze. For a moment he forgets to breath, just like back at the cargo bay, and the ground seems to swallow him whole, the shadows in the corners of the room growing and overtaking his peripheral, the metric humming of the ship fading as his hearing fails. He sees the fire in the coppery amber of Aeris’ eyes and he has to focus on the droplet of blood once again to prevent himself from becoming lost in a memory he had just managed to pull himself back from. His knuckles turn white with the grip he has on his own forearms.

“No one- no one important.”

Aeris knew what she was doing, face an emotionless mask of curiosity, suspicion swimming in the amber flecks of her iris’. Obi-wan was panicked, and he should be - she was not a woman to deceive. Anakin Skywalker was not ‘no one’.

“I will ask you again. Who is Anakin Skywalker?”

The older man stands firm, dead-set eyes boring into her own, his lips sealed in a firm line. The peaceful silence has morphed into something far more sinister, thick and chocking.

“He was your Padawan.” She reveals after several moments, one eyebrow raising as she asks. “What has Darth Vader got to do with you and Anakin?”

Obi-wan’s mouth opens minimally, closing as abruptly as his mind stalls. He hadn’t even told the bounty hunter the true relation between himself and Leia, his relation with Darth Vader himself was not another relation he wanted to share. The cogs in his mind turn as he scrambles, fighting for clarity among memories and their horrors that lay festering and fresh beneath the surface - how did she know of Anakin? How did she know he had been his Padawan? Though Obi-wan was once well-known through the resistance circles, his relation to other Jedi was not something discussed commonly. His eyes search her own; what did she know? And how did she know it? His distrust spikes, the Empire would likely know of their relationship, and so far there was little proof Aeris was who she claimed to be aside from the dishonest word of a con-man that had tried to scan Obi-wan himself. A hand comes up to rub the scruff of his beard, eyes narrowed. She didn’t know Anakin was Darth Vader, at least.

“He was my Padawan- I thought he died in Order 66.” Obi-wan’s tone is tight, the brunette before him watching his face with a harrowing gaze. “And I have no idea, I had no idea Darth Vader was involved in all of this - the Empire hunt all force users.”

Lies. Aeris’ mind hums, her tongue coming out to wet her lips as she thinks, a muscle twitching in her jaw.

“So why would the Third Sister mention him? This seems personal.”

“I have no idea.” The greying man stresses, hands motioning at his sides. “I don’t know how they found me, I don’t know what they want with me, I don’t know what Darth Vader has to do with any of this. I can only imagine it’s the same thing they do with all force users, only I had a reputation.” He didn’t like how easy it was becoming to lie. He had no idea if he was convincing, but the contemplative look on the woman’s face has his nerves settling. “And how do you even know Anakin use to be my Padawan? That isn’t knowledge you should possess.”

“I’m not the one lying here Ben. Anakin Skywalker is not ‘no one’.”

“And you’re not answering any of my questions. How do you know of Anakin Skywalker?” He doesn’t relent, voice firm, arms crossed.

“I have my sources.” It is Aeris’ turn to become defensive, brows furrowing.

“I’m trusting you to get myself and my daughter home safe.” He clears his throat, almost stumbling over his words. He doesn’t notice the satisfied upturning of Aeris’ thin lips. “How can I trust you when you possess information only few people should know- you know my name, my real name, and you know Anakin. I have a feeling you know a lot more than just any bounty hunter, than just any resistance member. I cannot trust you when I don’t know why.”

“I’m with the resistance.” Obi-wan was becoming frustrated at how she seemed to use that as a get out clause for any questions thrown her way. “And I’m a bounty hunter, my job is to gather people and get them to the resistance, it’s my job to know who you are, who you’re connections are, who else might need saving.”

His forehead creases, sucking a deep breath into his lungs. Never mind Aeris’ job, it was how she acquired this information that had him set on edge - where were the records with this information? With evidence of these links? It had been a decade since the destruction of the Jedi Order, and presumably all of its data and information. Who would still maintain these files at risk of being tortured and killed by the Empire?

“Your daughter,” Aeris begins, one final question on her lips. “why aren’t they hunting her? You’re right, they hunt all force users, surely blood relation is enough to put a target on her back too?”

Obi-wan curses himself for not just telling the truth earlier. He digs his heels in, continuing to act the clueless fool. “Force, Aeris I don’t know. The Empire work in mysterious ways- it’s likely they don’t even know she’s my daughter. You’re making it sound like I’m lying about her.”

The flat look she sends him has him biting the inside of his cheek. He had hoped she would shy away from the accusation: the woman was thorough, and confident, he would have to give her that.

“Why would I lie about such a thing?”

“I don’t know.” Her eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes as she talks, and he is acutely aware of how closely he is being watched. This was her job after all, reading others, distinguishing the untrustworthy from the plain dangerous. Anxiety squirms in his stomach and for a moment he considers preferring his odds against the Third Sister than the woman stood before him: better the devil you know than the one you don’t. “And that’s what I don’t understand. I usually know why people are lying, I can usually put myself in their shoes and understand, weed out the bullshit pretty early on.” A hand comes up to swipe a scarlet droplet from her brow. “But you have been dead to the galaxy for a decade, you re-appear on the run, on a seedy planet you have no business on, with a daughter no one knows of and the most dangerous man in the galaxy chasing after you. I don’t know what you’re lying about, or why, but I know you are.”

“Choose to believe me, or not. It makes no difference.” Obi-wan was growing tired, the stresses of the day wearing upon his weary shoulders, and he was worried that if they continued he would slip up. “I’m trying to get somewhere safe with my daughter. That is all I want, and that’s what I’ve told you.”

Aeris’ eyes continue their journey of his face, bright eyes cold and steely. The older man gave nothing back, despite the exhaustion and stress that marred the lines of his features, she understood he knew how this game was played, and nothing could be trusted. She had worn a fair few masks of her own, and this honest vulnerability was just another she had once adorned herself. This Jedi was smart, and ultimately his expression was just as guarded as her own. A thousand questions and accusations pushed against her lips, and her right hand tapped an indistinguishable pattern against her thigh. With one last regard, she turns, flexing her jaw.

“I’ll leave you to your meditation.” She bites, unsatiated but understanding she wouldn’t get any further that afternoon. She had found out one thing - Obi-wan was lying to her, about one thing or another, but she had yet to figure out what exactly about, and why.

She turns to leave, planning on returning to the cockpit and napping for however long they had left in the cargo shuttle, but Obi-wan’s surprisingly soft voice behind her has her halting and turning back towards him.

“You’re hurt.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet it takes Aeris by surprise, visible confusion flashing across her face before she stares at the man blankly, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“You- in- you’re hurt.”

Aeris, though usually not so easily ruffled, continues to stare at him blankly, wondering where this conversation had come from after such a heated debate. His own blank stare doesn’t offer much in return. Feeling the dried blood on her fingertips, she motions to her forehead, flicking a wrist dismissively. “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.”

“No I- I don’t mean that.” The sleeves of his robe ruffle as he adjusts his grip on his forearms, hesitant yet persistent. “You nearly gave away your position in the cargo bay.”

Aeris doesn’t speak, watching him cautiously.

He sighs. “This isn’t going to work unless we trust each other- I could help. I have experience with medical kits.”

“As do I.” She defends, a bit too harshly. “I tripped on a wire in the cargo bay, rest assured I do not need your help.”

His mouth opens to insist, but the brunette wastes no time in striding away from the conversation, leaving Obi-wan to his own thoughts and shadows as she returns to the equally dim cockpit. She returns faster than she had departed and her eyes instantly fall to Leia who still sat on the same crate, face pinched as she messy’s her braid further. Aeris pauses, eyes flickering between the cockpit door and the girl sat frowning to her right, and just as she decides that the child would be fine and that a nap was a far more pressing issue, a pained and frustrated whine leaves her throat.

“Leia, you okay?” She questions, one brow raising and head tilting lightly, not entirely thrilled to be asking the question in the first place.

The girl startles, head whipping in the woman’s direction, hands gripping the hem of her shirt. Large brown eyes stare back at Aeris and she shrugs as she heads back to the cockpit. “Nevermind.”

“Wait-!” Leia calls, hopping up from the crate as the cockpit door hisses open. Concealing a sigh Aeris turns back, staring down at the girl expectantly. “I- I don’t-” she babbles, taking a step back.

Brown puppy-dog eyes stare back at Aeris’ lighter pair, and a hand comes up to drag down her face as she asks: “There is something wrong, isn’t there?”

“I can’t braid my hair.”

As if that wasn’t obvious from the birds nest that currently sat in a twisted knot at the back of Leia’s head. “You want me to braid your hair?” A breath releases from Aeris’ chest as she waits for the child to get to the route of the problem.

“And I’ve... hurt my shoulder.”

“Right,” Aeris sighs, striding past the girl and sitting on the crate she once sat on. She beckons with a gloved hand. “Come on then, show me.”

Leia tentatively sits next to the older woman, staring at her expectantly.

“Which shoulder?” Slowly, Aeris rests her hands on Leia’s right shoulder, fingers feather-light as she prods around the joint, feeling for irregularities under the flimsy material of her jacket. Leia is rigid, back straight and muscles tense, face screwed in preparation for pain. Aeris notices and begins talking. “And how did you hurt it?”

“Just before you found us with those people in the alleyway.” Leia’s poor braid swings as she talks, nodding to herself. “I jumped off the roof ‘cos these people were shooting at us, and I didn’t trust that Ben would catch me so I grabbed this wire.” She mimics reaching for something with her other hand. “And it’s hurt since. I don’t know what I did.”

Aeris smooths a palm over the fabric of Leia’s shirt, one hand gripping her arm firmly whilst the other delves delicately in the junction between her shoulder and neck. “Good news is it doesn’t feel dislocated, there’s no bruising, and nothing feels ‘wrong’. You’ve probably just strained it a bit.” She hops up from the crate, heading towards the cockpit.

“Stay.” She calls over her shoulder, re-emerging a minute later with a flask and a small pill. She rejoins Leia on the crate, hiding a wince behind a smile as she hands the items over. “I don’t know the fancy name for this medicine but it’s similar to a stim - you’ve heard of them right?” Leia’s vacant look tells her all she needs. “It speeds up healing, and it’ll get rid of the pain. You’ll be back to normal in an hour.”

Leia immediately downs the pill, sipping at the water and watching Aeris over the rim of the flask, obviously wanting to keep talking. Aeris taps a silent rhythm against the crate as she shifts position. She considers leaving, body aching for the nap she had convinced herself she would take, but Leia’s expectant eyes and eager expression has her remaining on the crate, cursing her better nature.

“You jumped off a roof?” She leans back, surprised at how eager Leia’s eyes follow her. “...That’s pretty badass.” A grin overtakes the girls face, and she perks up instantly, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged. “You weren’t scared or anything?”

“No!” She refutes, shaking her head vigorously. “No, not scared at all. Like you when you jumped from the roof, but I think you looked cooler.”

“Huh, well, that’s very brave. I think I’d be scared if I fell.”

Leia’s grin quickly turns bashful, and she takes another sip as Aeris’ eyes wonder to the mess of hair sticking in all directions from behind her head.

“I can’t be handing you over to the resistance like a scruffy-looking nerf-herder, so can you do your hair now or do I need to do it?”

From bashful to downright embarrassed, Leia shakes her head again eyes lowering. “I don’t know how, can you please?”

“Your mum never taught you?” Aeris asks as she points at the floor before her feet, Leia settling cross-legged between her legs. From the limited knowledge Aeris had about children, Leia looked to be around seven years old, at the very least, wasn’t that a normal age for a young girl to be braiding her own hair?

“Uh,” Leia hesitates, sipping at the water again, somewhat aware of the cover story Obi-wan had been spouting to people and deciding that informing the bounty hunter about having maids to do this wasn’t entirely appropriate. “No, not yet.”

Nimble fingers quickly and carefully un-tie the mess of a braid that Leia had started, calloused fingers carding through brunette locks as the hull hums peacefully. Aeris had to hunch over to reach Leia, the girl not quite tall enough for a comfortable reach, and had to concentrate greatly to avoid grimacing at the tug to her side. The knotted mass of hair offered some distraction, thankfully, and Aeris soon found herself falling into a semi-relaxed rhythm as she began to braid. Her brows furrowed, however, at the memories of braiding a child’s hair a lifetime ago, and she opens her mouth to distract her thoughts.

“How old are you, Leia?”

“I’m ten and a half!” Aeris tries not to think too much about what happened to the galaxy around ten and a half years ago, but she notes the age with suspicion. Obi-wan was uncharacteristically quick to move on from the Jedi ways. “How old are you?” Leia questions, not entirely understanding the inappropriateness of the question.

“How old do you think I am?” The bounty hunter extends her arm, motioning with her fingers for Leia to pass her a bobble. “Be careful with your answer.”

“Twentyyyy-” Leia pauses, dragging her words as Aeris finishes tying off the braid. “two.”

“Ha! I wish.” The brunette scoffs a laugh, Leia flinching at the abruptness of her outburst. “You flatterer. I’m twenty-six.”

Patting Leia on the shoulders to motion her to stand, Aeris leans back on the crate, attempting to stretch out her stiff sides before she stands. “So, do you and your dad have plans for when you get home?”

“I- I don’t know.” Leia mutters. Aeris doesn’t fail to notice the hesitance to her voice or the aversion of her gaze. “I guess Ben will contact my mum as soon as we’re somewhere safe.”

“Hm, yes I’m sure she’ll be worried about you." Aeris tilts her head to the side lazily, trying to catch Leia’s eyes but ultimately giving up. “Don’t worry, you’ll be back with her soon.”

“Back with who soon?” Obi-wan interrupts, slightly panicked, finally returning from his moments of solitude. Leia startles at the intrusion, Aeris rolls her neck uninterested.

“With mum.” Leia sits on another smaller crate, swinging her legs back and forth. “She doesn’t know where we are.” “Ah, yes.” Obi-wan shifts uncomfortably, Aeris paying no mind to his actions as she rolls her shoulders from the time hunched braiding Leia’s hair. “Don’t worry, we’ll be in contact as soon as I can.”

Not intending to stick around for a ‘father’-’daughter’ bonding moment, Aeris springs up from her seat, boots clanging against the metal floor and dragging their attention towards her. “Right, well, now that you’re back- we’ve got around five hours before we get anywhere close to Mapuzo, so I suggest we all get some rest to kill the time and prepare ourselves for landing.” Her gaze flits between the pair, acknowledging them both pointedly. “Force-knows what it’ll be like when we land, the Empire’s increased their troop presence all over this sector, because of course they fucking have. They’ve got nothing better to do than interrupt my plans all the time.” Catching herself in her frustrations she stops. “We’ll just have to be prepared. Can’t be any worse than Daiyu.”

She leans over some meshing, pulling a stack of scraggly moth-eaten blankets out from the shadows and begins handing them around. “I’m going to sleep,” She opts to leave out a smart comment about Obi-wan ruining her schedule with his arrival on Daiyu, deciding things were tense enough between them already. However, she wouldn’t pretend a large part of the reasoning she wanted to sleep was so that she could simply stop having to look at him, as petty as that was: previous beating aside. “the ship’s fine, no one of interest takes this route. Do whatever you want, don’t break anything, and don't touch the console in the cockpit. Good?”

Leia nods, wrapping her moss-coloured blanket over her shoulders after a moments scrutiny. Obi-wan folds his ominously stained cream blanket in his arms, sitting quietly and allowing Leia to plop herself next to him, pulling out her small bug-like toy and beginning to mumble excitedly to him about god-knows what. He watches as Aeris immediately prepares for bed, folding her jacket into a pillow, pulling her maroon blanket over her shoulders, and curling into herself at the corner of the hull closest to the cockpit, back pressed up against the wall. She doesn't remove her blasters from her hips, and barely stirs as soon as her head connects with her jacket.

He sighs, attention focussing on entertaining Leia, lamenting all the decisions that had led him to this moment; a cold dark musty run-down transport vessel, with a child at his hip, a child who’s father was alive and apparently the very man who had brought the galaxy into ruin, who was apparently currently hunting Obi-wan down. That’s not even to mention the dangerous stranger seemingly peacefully asleep in the shadows. He had had a peaceful life not ten days ago, how could it have gone so wrong?

Obi-wan watches the young girl beside him, finally noticing that her unkept locks had been braided back into two delicate dutch braids. He hadn’t even noticed how unkempt she had first looked, but now he realised she looked immensely better and polished, akin more to a princess than a street-urchin.

“You’re hair looks very nice, Leia.” He compliments, attempting to smile warmly at her, eyes crinkling. “I could never hope to tie such a braid.”

“Thank you!” She beams, grinning up at him and running her fingers along one of her braids. “Aeris did it for me.”

“What?” He questions dumbly, jovial mood crashing into the floor, eyes flitting in the sleeping bounty-hunters direction. “She- she did your hair?”

“Yeah.” Leia nods, seemingly unaware of Obi-wan’s absolute shock. “I couldn’t fix my hair so she did it for me-” Obi-wan feels as if his brain is short-circuiting, unable to visualise how on earth that event even happened. Did Leia just wonder up to the woman and politely ask her to braid her hair? And then she simply said yes? Aeris was many things, aggressive, intimidating, dangerous, closed-off and frankly frightening, someone to steer clear of, definitely not someone he could envision who would sit and braid a young child’s hair. His gaze slides back to her sleeping figure, perhaps he had misjudged her, but he struggled to grapple with the mental image none-the-less.

“-said I couldn’t be meeting the resistance looking like, like a ‘scruffy-looking nerf-er’.” Ah, that was more believable.

“Nerf-herder?” Obi-wan offers, sighing when Leia nods, repeating the full phrase back to him. How classy.

“Don’t go repeating that, Leia, your parents will kill me if they hear that coming from you.”

“Is it really that bad?” She sasses, Obi-wan rubbing between his eyes tiredly.

“Had you ever heard that phrase before today?” She stares at him silently. “Exactly, there’s a reason. Young girls shouldn’t be saying stuff like that, it’s unbecoming.”

Leia nods along, but Obi-wan has a feeling the insult will stick with her for a while. Children always picked up the worst things. He remembered swearing in front of a youngling once, and before he knew it the entire cohort had a new word in their vocabulary.

“Is there anything else our travelling companion taught you today?” He questions, half in jest, half concerned.

“Uhh,” Leia genuinely considers, brows furrowing. Obi-wan regrets ever asking. “a tim? A stim?” She drags out the ‘s’, unsure.

Obi-wan’s head turns fully to regard her. “Why in force was she teaching you about stims?”

“She gave me ‘something like a stim’ for my shoulder.” She uses air-quotations, completely unaware of the panic striking Obi-wan’s heart and the cold sweat immediately breaking out across his back.

“Leia,” His voice is tight, and it takes all of his restraint not to go barrelling to the other side of the room and rouse Aeris from her slumber. “what do you mean she gave you something? She gave you medicine? And you took it?”

“I hurt my shoulder when I fell earlier and she gave me something to fix it. It feels great.” She smiles again, the apples of her cheeks rosy. Obi-wan’s eyes only furrow in concern, gaze flicking around her face for signs of illness.

“What did she give you? Leia, this is important, what did she give you?” His tone raises in urgency, whispering harshly to not awaken Aeris at the other side of the room.

“I don’t know.” She mumbles quietly, feeling the pressure of his gaze. “It was a pill...”

“A pill.” A hand covers Obi-wan’s mouth, running through all types of medical knowledge that remained in his mind from his training. A pill? That could be anything. She could’ve given her Latheniol or force-knows what.

“Force. You feel alright though?” He places a hand against her forehead that she quickly swats away. Delving into the force, he narrows his light presence towards Leia’s heart, ignoring his own hammering chest to listen to the exceptionally-normal heartbeat next to him. “Oh my- don’t take medicine from strangers. Did no one ever teach you that? Don’t take anything from strangers.”

“You’re a stranger.” Leia defends, crossing her arms and pouting.

“I’m different. Your family knows me. No-one knows her.”

“...Sorry.”

“Just-” He sighs, a hand pulling down his face and rubbing at his beard. “next time you hurt something, need something, anything. Tell me first, okay?” He regards her with a final once-over, leaning back against the wall and staring at the ceiling to compose himself. “But you’re feeling alright? No side-effects since the medicine?”

“No, no. I feel better than before. Pinky-promise.” An extended pinky-finger comes into his view, wafting around jokingly. Not having the energy to attempt to reason with her any further, and not wanting to worry her too much, he extends his own pinky, letting her pull his hand into her lap and begin playing with it as she resumes her chatter from before. Force, the child needed some self-preservation lessons.

---

Once Leia’s chattering died down, the hull fell into a peaceful silence with nothing but the struggling hum of the engine indicating any movement at all. Obi-wan had managed to sleep for a little while, waking two hours later with a stiff neck and Leia sprawled across his lap, using his robes as a pillow. She had shifted since, and now hugged his cream-coloured blanket close to her chest. He had enjoyed the silence, allowing his mind to wander, but not too far, and his eyes had finally adjusted to the dim quarters he found himself in.

The first sign of Aeris waking up had been her mumbling. Her words were so soft he couldn’t fully understand them, and he doubted they made much sense anyway. He wasn’t even entirely sure she was speaking English, the words were so jumbled and aborted. Then came her constant shifting around, evidently not wanting to wake up yet and make the most out of the few hours of quiet they had. He had noted the way the woman shifted delicately, and once or twice had quickly altered positions with a quick intake of breath. She had obviously done some damage to something at the cargo port earlier, probably when she fell down all those stairs, but he had already offered to help, what was he to do if she refused him? He continues watching silently, her suddenly-growing frustration at being awake reminding him of a certain someone he had tried his best not to think about.

Regardless of her efforts, admitting defeat, she quietly sat herself upright, back pressed against the wall behind her, blanket pulled over her shoulders and hair an unruly mess atop her head. Her eyes immediately snap towards him, and Obi-wan cannot help but feel as though he has been caught doing something he shouldn’t have despite just sitting idly, averting his gaze to land back on Leia’s sleeping form.

Peaceful silence turns into something a little tenser, though Obi-wan isn’t sure if he is just imagining it.

“’morn’n’.” An unfamiliar accent slips through as her hands drag through her hair and rub at her eyes, fingers tapping against a rudimentary communicator on her wrist, illuminating her face in a sickly orange. “We’ve got an hour and a half before we make land.”

Obi-wan hums quietly, nodding his head once.

“Sleep well?”

“Hmph,” Her shoulders raise in a mocking laugh. “Could do with another ten hours, but oh well.” She stands, slowly, stretching her arms even slower above her head. Obi-wan can see her hide a wince, even in the dim lighting. “Did you sleep at all?” She questions, sounding as if she heavily suspected otherwise.

“Yes, I awoke about an hour ago. I didn’t move because I didn’t want to disturb Leia.” The girl still had a firm hand wrapped around the edge of his robes, despite him offering his blanket as a sacrifice instead.

He watches Aeris’ eyes turn down to the young girl, eyes catching the little light from the overhead bulbs and shining unnaturally. “From what she told me, she deserves the rest.”

A moments silence.

“Thank you for braiding her hair.”

Aeris’ eyes slowly lift to him, waiting suspectingly.

“She told me you braided it, I think it made her afternoon.” He truly meant that, having been thoroughly surprised when Leia had informed him after he had complimented the braid pattern. He couldn’t imagine how the conversation leading up to that had gone, a, by all means, terrifying bounty hunter sat delicately braiding a young girls hair. Truthfully, it had eased some of his doubts about the woman sleeping with two blasters across the room, and had been one of the reasons he had allowed himself to sleep - who would bother braiding a child’s hair just to kill them the next hour?

“She’s quite a character.” Aeris hums, hands buried into her trouser pockets as she slowly heads towards the cockpit, walking closer to the pair to reach the door. Obi-wan watches the movement carefully, finally noticing the smattering of bruises on each of Aeris’ toned arms now that her jacket had been discarded and she had wondered closer. The hues of purple and blue were far too developed to have been from earlier that day, and he regards her with concerned interest - despite her apparent humanity, he could not forget her profession, nor how she had so easily found them.

“How old is she?” The question was innocent enough, but alarms immediately start blaring in Obi-wan’s head, eyes snapping up to Aeris’, fingers digging into his forearms beneath his robes. If he said her true age, she would know she was born the same year the Jedi Republic fell, and if he really wanted to ruin things, he could go a step further and say it was the exact date everything fell apart. No, Leia was ‘his’ child, and it would have to allow at least nine months after his exile, but that was equally as suspicious. Obi-wan knew what he looked like, and a heart-throb rebel who would have a one-night stand during the destruction of the galaxy was most definitely not his image.

Not to mention, Leia might have already let-slip her age, and with how she liked to chatter he wouldn’t have entirely been surprised. Of course, he could simply refuse to tell Aeris, or change the topic, but she was already suspicious enough about them, he could sacrifice this bit of harmless ‘information’. Deciding revealing her true age would do far more damage than being caught lying about it, already coming up with a counter-lie, he settles on a random number. “Eight.” He decides, deeming it close enough. Leia looked young for her age anyway. “Why?”

He was truly not enjoying the amount of lying he had had to do lately, particularly to a woman who looked like she always seemed to know what was exactly going on in his head.

“No particular reason,” She shrugs, rocking backward on her heels and resuming her trek towards the cockpit. “she’s just so well spoken, but couldn’t braid her hair.” She stares more pointedly at Leia’s hunched figure. “Not to mention she’s as tiny as a loth-cat. I couldn't wrap my head around how old she was.”

As Aeris disappears into the cockpit once again, Obi-wan sighs, head resting against the cool metal of the ship. Every conversation with Aeris felt like a miniature battlefield, and for once, he felt as though he had come away unscathed.

---

On the other side of the cockpit door, Aeris shakes her head with a cocky grin. Idiots, absolute idiots. The information of Leia’s age would be of no use whatsoever, but its reasoning had peaked her interest. Leia was 10, born the same year the galaxy fell to shit, and Obi-wan had purposefully lied about this. That could mean two things; Leia was not his daughter, which Aeris was so confident about she’d wager her ship on it, or that Leia’s age held some sort of significance, either to who she actually was, or someone connected to her. All could be true for all Aeris knew. She knew three things, stood in the small cockpit of the transport shuttle: Leia was ten and a half years old, Obi-wan Kenobi was not her father, and he did not want her to know that. Additionally, Darth Vader was chasing after him, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the relevance of those separate factors. For a moment, falling into the pilots seat, she fantasised about Obi-wan going on some wild goose-chase and kidnapping Darth Vader’s daughter, or perhaps some other high-ranking Empire officer, but that was pure fantasy. Leia spoke far too well and was far too kind to be related to any officer Aeris had ever had the misfortune of meeting, so who were her relations? More pressingly, why was she in the care of Obi-wan? And why was Vader so interesting in the retired Jedi?

She pauses for a minute, sinking lower into her chair. Force knows what goddamn Anakin Skywalker had to do with any of this. This was either the worst bout of unfortunate timing anyone in the galaxy had ever experienced for Obi-wan, or there was some connection here she didn’t have all the facts to realise. She rubs her eyes with her right hand, frowning as she attempts to rationalise the jumbled mess inside her head. She did not like this, she usually knew exactly what was happening with those around her, and yet Obi-wan had fallen into her lap with a great big question mark plastered across him. She usually revelled in these sorts of challenges, piecing information together like a puzzle before her very eyes, but with Obi-wan and the kind of ghosts he would carry, to not know the full picture was dangerous, and the gravity of that reality only grew the more information slipped through the cracks.

There was one thing she knew for certain; the sooner Obi-wan and the girl were out of her hands, the better.

When she returned to her ship she’d find a way to access birth files from 10 years ago, just to satiate her curiosity. Now, however, she turns to the primitive and battered console in front of her, frown deepening as she attempts to assess the situation. The console before her was ancient, and that was a generous assessment of its capabilities, with nothing but a grainy navigation monitor with a dim blinking dot that jittered around the screen giving any indication their own ship even existed. Concluding the technical side of things were hopeless for ensuring their security, she stares pointedly out of the viewport in front of her, pressing her face as close to the glass as possible to see to her right and left. She saw nothing but an endless expanse of nothingness, with far off stars glimmering past rather sluggishly - this ship did not seem to move at light speed, more like a poor sputtering attempt at just reaching its destination within the day. Nothing seemed to be trailing the ship, at least nothing she could see from this incredibly limited viewing point. Taking solace in the fact there was only one blinking dot on the grainy monitor, she rests back in her seat, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Truthfully, she felt exhausted, but the steel floor seemed to have an uncanny ability at making her aware of all of the aches and pains that ailed her. Not to mention, Obi-wan’s presence had brought many memories she had tried to forget to the forefront of her mind; screams, blaster-fire and the dreadful sounds of lightsabers plaguing her night-terrors. It took an immense amount of restraint not to awake screaming and swinging her fists, and even more still to curb her temper when she had seen Obi-wan just sat idly, watching without a care in the world. There was a reason she stayed away from Jedi, aside from their near extinction, and with every passing hour she regretted her proximity to one more fiercely.

She glances down at her communicator. She had an hour to kill, and desperately wanted to just sleep the time away, but it was just too unbearable on that floor. She hadn’t had a good nights restful sleep in a full week, her last period of prolonged sleep being drug-induced, and now she couldn’t even close her eyes without her worst memories playing out behind her eyelids. She kicks her feet up on the console, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She would take her chances in the chair.

---

After 10 minutes of fitfully trying to sleep in the cockpit, Aeris returned to the main hull, barely sparing Obi-wan a glance as she resumed her position on the floor, opting instead to wear her jacket and use her blanket as a poor attempt at a mattress. She had been asleep for around 15 minutes, and Obi-wan had resumed his meditation, when the ship rocked wildly to the side and alarms started blaring.

Aeris springs up immediately, cursing loudly and creatively as she sprints towards the cockpit.

“What the-!” Obi-wan yells over the sirens, hanging onto a startled Leia with one arm and the netting behind him with the other to stop them hurtling to the other side of the hull as Aeris trips unceremoniously through the doorway to the cockpit as another blast rocks the ship.

Aeris hurtles through the doorway and slams into the centre console, cursing louder at the amount of red sensors blaring at her. The console was going mad, red and flickering with random buttons flashing at her angrily, and the shrill shrieking of the safety alarm splicing through her brain didn’t help the panic she was trying to control. Three dots on the navigation screen flicker wildly, one green, two red; just out of view of the viewport. She slams a hand down on the communications radio, waiting the few agonising seconds it took to connect to nearby frequencies and nearly hurtling back out through the cockpit doors as the ship jolts again.

“This is the commander of transport vessel, call-sign Percheron, requesting communication and demanding ceasefire.”

The radio blusters angrily back at her and she repeats the sentence again, yelling over the emergency safety systems, hands gripping at the console to steady herself as Obi-wan appears in the doorway behind her.

“Percheron,” A horribly disfigured voice crackles through the radio. Aeris notices the familiar Empirical accent immediately and curses under her breath. Alarms blare and the console still screams furiously, but the ship finally stops its’ rocking. “you are in quadrant 15, sector 3. We demand reason of presence.”

“Transport vessel Percheron is delivering equal amounts of salt and ferro-crete, amounting a total of 30 tonnes to planet Mapuso, in assistance of mining shortages. Course for landing: Western Ship-port.” Aeris’ voice is tense, knuckles turning white with her grip on the console, drawing back on all her knowledge on current quadrant-related affairs to bluff her way through this interaction, snarky confidence carrying her through. “Requesting reasoning for our unannounced attack?”

“Non-compliance of questionin---.” Splutters back, the radio crackling and fading. She smacks it harshly with her fist, turning to glare at Obi-wan as soon as he tries to advise against doing that.

“Apologies.” She grits out through clenched teeth, finally beginning to regain her breath from her panicked awakening. “I was re-securing goods at the back of the hull.”

“Transport vessel Perch-- has no identification --umber on --systems. No --- shipment to Ma---- ---- -----er.”

“Fuck.” She breathes, smacking the communicator once again. Her hands begin flying over the console, readying the ship to hurtle full-throttle away from the two presumably (from her own experiences) delta-class T-shuttles.

“Percheron requesting repeat. Line is faulty.”

She beckons Obi-wan with a free hand, as the same message crackles through the radio. “Secure Leia, and hang on to something, tie yourself into the fucking netting if you have to.”

“There must be a way to-”

“They’ve hit us four times already. You want to take that chance?” She motions him away harshly, and his hurried footsteps soon follow.

“Percheron delivering emergency shipment. Identification number KS-4291.” She lies plainly through her teeth, buying time more than anything else as throws her backpack off of the pilots chair, sitting stiffly, one hand clenched around the throttle and the other continuing to fly across the console, attempting to quieten the blasting sirens and lights that still blared. There was no seatbelt, she realises with a huff, fantastic.

“Fuck this.” She mutters to herself, palms slick with sweat and heart jack-hammering out of her chest as the radio crackles. She was in a fucking transport vessel, and a shit one at that. They were going to die.

“Insufficient ----. --- traced to --- Daiy---.”

“Percheron willing to re-route until permission granted.” She hurries out, beginning to feed the engines, free hand now coming to rest on the steering-control.

“Negative. ----- insufficient. ---.” The radio completely fails, and she immediately turns it off. Even though the entire communication hadn’t come through, the message was clear: they would not be allowed to leave the quadrant. A blast permeates the sirens of the ship as she forces the ship forward, ignoring its wild rocking or the sounds of shrieking metal, forcing the throttle and sending the ship hurtling past the two T-shuttles, jolting in her chair as the ship finally picks up speed.

Sirens fall upon deaf ears as Aeris yanks at the steering, weaving between debris and dodging blasts from the two trailing fighters. She forces the ship down, its mechanics groaning in protest as she quickly yanks the steering upright, flipping sideways and speeding towards the closest planet - a sad brown looking thing. She had no weapons, no come-back for the two shuttle’s on her tail, the best thing she could do was hide. Her panic spikes through the roof as the planet approaches, every muscle and fibre tense and a sinking feeling lengthening the pit in her stomach. How was she to win with no weapons?

“What’s going on?” Obi-wan tumbles through the doorway as Aeris changes direction again, nearly falling from her seat as the ship is forced parallel. Four bolts fly past her viewport, crackling wildly.

“Fucking, sit down!” She yells, swerving again and bracing for breaking the planet’s atmosphere. Obi-wan’s hands land on either side of her headrest, nearly thrown over the top of the chair as they enter the planet’s atmosphere.

“There’s no co-pilot seat!” He argues, as if that meant anything to her at the moment.

“No shit, it’s a transport vessel. Not a fighter!” She curses loudly, pushing the throttle further as a bolt clips the side of the ship, spinning them away from two other blast. She could barely hear herself over her own heart, and the constant frantic cursing in her own mind. “No defences, no shields, no weapons, no co-pilot!”

She glares at the approaching planet, forcing the ship as fast as its tired engines would allow. She doesn’t have time to think of her morality as she readies the ship for a suicide mission, teeth sunken into her cheek and brows furrowed harshly as she sits up straight in her chair, feet braced against the floor to keep her steady and legs tense and aching with anticipation.

“What can I do?” Obi-wan calls, crouching next to her seat and hanging onto an armrest. It is only then that he realises with horror that they are in a steep nose-dive, heading straight towards the rapidly approaching trees before them, his eyes widen, panic stricken and convinced he was watching his own death fast-approach. He offers uselessly: “What’re you doing? We need to lose them.”

“Oh, really?!” She snarks, falling silent as she plummets into the tree-line, ship parallel to weave between the biggest and most damaging fauna. The ship groans dangerously as she plummets the throttle, engines working desperately to decrease their speed. Quadrant 15 had one advantage of being chased in; most planets cultivated massive fauna which a skilled enough pilot could slip between, less skilled pilots would struggle to keep up.

“Pull up! We’ll crash!” Obi-wan yells, watching in horror as trees with trunks the width of a landspeeder blur past.

More red bolts fly past their vision, careening trees into their path. Aeris curses, having hoped the other pilots would have been too scared to follow, using both hands to grapple the steering-control to force the ship into a steep right-turn to avoid a falling charred tree. The controls were all backwards now that she had forced the ship onto its left side; right was up, up was left and left was a death sentence down into the planet just 10 feet below. She wracks her brain uselessly, eyes flickering about the viewport incessantly, steering between trees with barely a hairs-breadth to spare. She turns left and left again, doing anything possible to throw the shuttle’s off her scent, but they always reappeared with a crash through the brush and red bolts sizzling past her viewport.

“Are you planning to kill us?” Obi-wan calls again, a hand hovering over her shoulder, but not daring to shake her from her concentration. “This isn’t flying, this is suicide.”

Their transport vessel was sluggish and chunky, built for slow drawling missions rather than high-speed chases, and it was only because of the miracle of the forrest and her reckless flying that had managed to slow the T-shuttles down enough to allow them to survive so long. Whilever she routed a path between the foliage, the T-shuttles would stay on their tail, pilots skilled enough to follow but not to lead. But leaving the safety of the trees had its own risks. She needed to force the pilots to think for themselves, and that meant getting out of these trees before they could realise what had happened.

“I’m going to do something mad.” She states tensely, sounding far too confident despite the prayer she was reciting in her head. One hand falls back onto the throttle, the other gripping the steering so hard it looked painful. She had to force enough speed to not only turn right (go up), but to completely flip the ship on its axis to remain out of harms way.

“Isn’t this already mad?!” Obi-wan calls, taking the hint and scrambling backwards, winding his wrists in a bit of netting at the right-wall of the cockpit.

Without warning, Aeris forces the throttle down again, maxing the engines and causing the ship to roar angrily. She slams back into her chair, both hands wrenching the steering as far to the right as it would allow, spinning the ship up and out of the foliage, completely flipped upside down, with the trees now scraping the ceiling beneath her head. She doesn’t breath, allowing the ship to travel upside down for a moment, mind whirling and eyes struggling to understand the upside-down image of the world through the viewport, the sky below and the trees above her. If she could hear a thing, she would have noticed Leia’s screaming, or Obi-wan’s calls of ‘madness’, but the sound of blood pumping through her ears and her own frazzled mind drowned out all other senses. She spins the ship again with white knuckles and an aching jaw, forcing it back to its correct axis, and watching dizzyingly as the sky returns to its place above her head, the trees now clipping the bottom of the ship. An explosion ricochets behind her, a pilot already slamming head-first into a tree now that they couldn’t follow her path, and she grins whole-heartedly: it had worked, they weren’t dead.

Not a humble woman; that was some fucking good flying.

“Ha!” She shouts joyfully, the amount of adrenaline coursing through her veins making her feel sick. She raises the ship higher, clear of the forrest below and cruising at a less dangerous height, she ignored the wailing of the controls, pushed and damaged beyond repair; they were alive, that’s all that mattered. Obi-wan, pale-faced and slightly green-looking, unropes his wrist from the netting, a red streak left behind as he approaches the pilot’s chair, breathing deeply.

“That was-” Words fail him. He couldn’t believe he was alive, and he wasn’t even sure he fully understood just how the ship had flipped so suddenly in such a way, an old transport shuttle no less. Aeris didn’t seem to notice his panic, utterly elated she had succeeded in such a feat. “That was some horrendous flying.”

“You’re welcome.”

Realising he had left Leia strapped down in the hull, Obi-wan turns hurriedly, calling her name. He only makes it to the door by the time the second T-shuttle emerges from the foliage below them, blasters pointed straight at the engines of the transporter. Aeris immediately tries to guide the ship out of the shuttle’s way, eyes wide and all muscles in her body tense, but the engines are damaged and slow. The ship begins to turn, fruitlessly, and Obi-wan only makes it one step into the main hull when two bolts make contact with the engine.

A fierce explosion rocks the ship, and it immediately plummets, sirens wailing and Leia screaming as Aeris desperately attempts to pull the steering up, deadening the engines to slow their rapid decent. The last thing Aeris sees is the tree-line whipping past, branches smacking against the shattered viewport, and the ground coming up to meet her in a mocking crescendo.

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