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ladyofleithianDisclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Well, the battle at Mandalore is here. I hope it meets your expectations. :)
“It’s not disrespect, Master; it’s the truth.” But even now, arguing with Qui-Gon about that, somehow, Obi-Wan could not find the strength to believe it.
He didn’t want to think that the Council was right. That this sweet, innocent child would actually bring downfall upon them all. And if Qui-Gon was right, if indeed, this child could bring balance to the Force...
And then he remembered his nightmares. The nightmares that had plagued him prior to the mission to Mandalore to rescue Duchess Satine.
A young man, face framed in shadow, slicing through the Temple like a ghost, like a dream, cutting down youngling after youngling, Master after Master, Padawan after Padawan, Knight after Knight. No Jedi was spared -- and those he did not kill were shot down by men in white uniforms.
He had tried to explain his dream to Qui-Gon, but the Master had brushed it off as being only a bad dream, and that he would be all right. “Remember what Master Yoda taught you as a young child.”
“ ‘Always in motion is the future,’” Obi-Wan repeated, almost mechanically, trying to convince himself that it would be all right. That this future, this bleak future that he hd seen in his nightmare, would not come true. “But what if this future comes to be?”
“Then we will fight it with every last drop of strength we have left.”
“What if that’s not enough?”
“You are too low on hope,” Qui-Gon said, “It will be enough. The dark is not invincible -- one lone candle is enough to hold it back.”
And for a moment, those words had calmed him, soothed him.
And yet, somehow, something deep in Obi-Wan could not help but disbelieve it.
“From your point of view, perhaps.” Though Qui-Gon was visibly trying to stay calm, Obi-Wan could feel a layer of irritation in his voice.
“The Council will decide the boy’s fate, not you. Now get on board.”
As Qui-Gon boarded the ship, Obi-Wan could not help but feel rage begin to simmer up in him. Rage mingled with humiliation. How can he think so little of me, when I try so hard to please him? And yet even now, he could not help but wonder if Qui-Gon was right. If, indeed, he was being cruel to the boy, and unjustly so.
Obi-Wan sighed and boarded the ship after Qui-Gon. I must be out of my mind...
He sat far away from Qui-Gon though -- it felt too risky at the moment. Perhaps they could talk when both of them had calmed.
Then he felt Satine sit next to him. “Padawan Kenobi,” she said, “Are you all right?”
“I’m...all right.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Master Qui-Gon has deemed me ready to face the trials.”
“But that’s wonderful!”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, “But I...am afraid.” Did Qui-Gon really think he was fit for the trials? After all, he was not renowned for controlling his temper -- much -- as a Padawan. If not for Qui-Gon’s intervention, he would have been shipped off to AgriCorps instead.
Even thinking about it now, he could not help but wonder if he was being ungrateful to Qui-Gon. After all, the Jedi Master was just doing what he could...
But even now, looking at the boy now eating up Qui-Gon’s time, asking questions about midichlorians and so many others...
Obi-Wan could not help but hate the boy. And even that idea frightened him -- blaming and hating a small child for something that was hardly his fault. What a miserable human being I must be...
“You don’t feel ready?”
“I do,” Obi-Wan said, “But...I don’t quite want to become a Knight too quickly.”
“I see.”
“That and Qui-Gon. I...I know he has good intentions, but...” He trailed off; how was he going to explain his sheer anger and irrational hatred of Anakin for something that was barely his fault?
Satine smiled, gently stroked his cheek. “Qui-Gon merely does what he believes is right. In the meantime, you must do what you consider right.”
“Mandalore,” Obi-Wan said. He faltered. “Satine...what happened to your planet...it was worse than unfair. They shouldn’t have done it -- you and the other Mandalorians deserved much better.”
“Obi-Wan,” Satine said, “There is no need. Everything one can consider better is right here. Right now.”
And even those words, that smile -- somehow, Obi-Wan felt something in him he didn’t know was tense relax when she said those words.
“Thank you, Satine,” he said. “Thank you.”
***
It was later, much later, one reconciliation later and one discussion of strategy later, that the battle to reclaim Mandalore began. Satine was not one for fighting, Obi-Wan observed, but even now, if she was sufficiently provoked, she would do so. He, of course, was more than willing to fight -- if only to do his duty. Jedi were keepers of the peace by nature, not soldiers, but even so, they were more than willing to pick up arms if necessary.
It was later, in the throne room, that Obi-Wan saw them. Two figures, cloaked in black, who drew back their hoods. One was the figure that Qui-Gon Jinn had fought on Naboo -- a Zabrak with dark tattoos that stood out against scarlet skin, contrasting with yellow eyes that almost called to mind a krayt dragon’s. The other was a girl, a beautiful young woman actually, small and slender, with rich brown hair and the familiar amber eyes of the Sith. Even now, the soldiers that accompanied Satine and the others murmured things to them such as “We’ll take the long way”, as if they knew that they couldn’t stand a chance against the two of them.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon drew their lightsabers abruptly, before charging on the two figures. They dueled, and even as they did so, Obi-Wan could not help but notice that the girl he dueled was...quite good, really. Very skilled. Every movement he made, she seemed to match almost flawlessly. The four of them continued to duel, matching one another movement for movement, up until --
Even now as the Zabrak dashed through the Force Field, Obi-Wan almost wanted to follow, except for the fact the girl was simply refusing to give up. He could sense Qui-Gon’s determination even as he continued to fight the Zabrak, and over their bond, over the Master-apprentice bond, Obi-Wan found the will to fight on.
And then he felt it. A sharp, agonizing pain. A pain that seemed to resonate through him, a pain that escaped him in a scream. Qui-Gon had fallen. Enraged, he dashed through the Force field, stabbing it, rushing for the figure, intent on dueling him to a stand-still --
It was only later, lying on the floor with the figure standing over him that Obi-Wan realized that giving into his anger was a mistake. If anything, he doubted he could have felt more humiliated.
And yet...
He swung. Whether it be by luck or otherwise, the lightsaber in the Zabrak’s hand -- a double-bladed one as well -- was sliced in half. But then again, Obi-Wan knew that there was no such thing as luck. There was only the Force.
The Zabrak, still holding onto one end of the handle, continued to duel Obi-Wan. Red against blue, red against blue, one of many variations on the time-honored tradition of Sith vs. Jedi.
Until...
Obi-Wan’s lightsaber went straight through the Zabrak’s heart.
Even now, turning around long after the Zabrak had fallen, he turned to look at the girl, who stood there, calmly, almost challenging him to strike her down next.
“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, “But I will if there’s no other choice. Surrender and you shall be spared.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.” The girl’s voice was almost musical-sounding -- pleasant to the ear. “I am sorry.”
“Very well then.”
The fight resumed. Blue vs. red, red vs. blue. And yet...
In the vision, Obi-Wan could see a man in a mask, and the girl fighting alongside a man with shaggy dark blond hair. Fighting an Empire that seemed to extend across galaxies...
The vision distracted him enough for the girl to knock him towards the ground. Beaten, sweaty, almost embarrassed at his failure, Obi-Wan could only look up at the girl and say, “If there’s any solace, there is a life outside the Sith for you.”
“What?”
“I’ve merely seen.” Obi-Wan smiled, wincing in pain even as he did. “You’ve fought wonderfully.”
“As...as have you.” The girl seemed, quite honestly, surprised he said it. "I never expected mercy from a Jedi."
"It's what we do. It's who we are."
The girl didn't seem to believe him.
It was then that Satine and the others entered. Upon seeing him sprawled in pain on the floor, Satine seemed to go pale. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly all right.” Obi-Wan staggered to his feet. Then he grew more solemn. “I need to take Master Qui-Gon back. He will need to be given a proper funeral.” A pause. “He died bravely.”
For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a flicker in the girl’s eyes -- a flicker of something he couldn’t identify. Was it pity? How odd, to have pity from a Sith -- or at least a Dark Jedi.
“Of course. And in the meanwhile, we will need to take this girl back to Coruscant for trial.”
If anything, the girl seemed to face the possibility of her sentence with dignity. Even now, Obi-Wan could not help but wonder about her -- who her name was, where she came from, and, considering what he had just seen, if she was truly evil at heart.
