Star Wars Part 4

Zooming through Sundari aboard his transport, Obi-Wan marveled at the stunning, brutalist architecture that surrounded him. Towering cubes and glimmering transparisteel structures formed a breathtaking sight, their sharp angles creating a dance of mesmerizing shadows and lights that adorned the bustling cityscape. The air was alive with the hum of speeders zipping by and the lively chatter of pedestrians, infusing every corner of the metropolis with a vibrant energy.

As his driver navigated each turn, they steadily approached their destination, and Obi-Wan could feel a subtle anticipation building within him.

Satine Kryze, the Duchess of Mandalore, was not only his first love, but also his first partner, and ultimately, his first heartbreak.

Now, after all these years, their paths were about to intertwine once more, albeit under the most unideal of circumstances. He found himself about to have a conversation with her, the most non-violent being he had ever encountered, regarding a Mandalorian attack on the Republic.

Force help him.

The instant he crossed the palace threshold, a wave of nostalgia and apprehension flooded through his body, and he knew that this meeting would dredge up old memories and emotions that he had so carefully buried.

Sunlight, filtered and softened by tinted glass walls and a magnificent ceiling, poured into the expansive hall and illuminated every surface. With each step he took on the polished floors, Obi-Wan could hear the soft echo of his footsteps, accompanied by the distant murmurs of palace staff attending to their duties.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the woman who had once held his heart in her hands.

"General Kenobi," a weathered voice called out, and he turned to see the Prime Minister approaching, his face adorned with a polite smile.

"Prime Minister Almec," Obi-Wan greeted and threw on a smile of his own. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"I welcome you as a servant of the people," the man replied, giving the Jedi's hand a firm shake. "But I must say, I am troubled by the baseless rumors that led you to come here. Mandalore would never betray the Republic. Duchess Satine holds peace in higher regard than her own life."

"Oh, yes. I'm well aware of the Duchess's views." They had spent an entire year together, enduring dire circumstances, engaging in countless hours of conversation and debate. Obi-Wan had more than gained a deep understanding of that remarkable woman.

"I can assure you, Master Kenobi, Mandalore's violent history is a thing of the past," Almec insisted. "All our warriors were expelled to Concordia. They perished long ago."

Obi-Wan immediately felt a sense of unease at Almec's choice of words. The notion of droves of people being "exiled" with the expectation of dying off elsewhere didn't sit well with him. Even if they were enemies of New Mandalore, the choice of words seemed too dismissive, too indifferent to the presumed deaths of many by a now "pacifist" regime.

"And you are certain of that? I recently encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armor. Perhaps you heard of him? Jango Fett."

"Jango Fett was nothing more than a common bounty hunter." The man's voice resonated with a powerful sense of disgust, one that emanated through the Force and was impossible to ignore.

"I believe the Fetts were a clan of Mandalorians, Minister. At least, so I saw in my research." Obi-Wan added pointedly.

Before Almec could argue, a distinct voice captured Obi-Wan's attention. It was a voice he recognized all too well, a voice that continued to haunt him in his dreams.

"Master Kenobi," Satine greeted as she entered the room. "If it isn't my shining Jedi Knight to the rescue once again."

He watched as the Duchess took her seat and, even now, she was still a sight to behold.

Upon her throne, she exuded a poise and elegance that matched her noble lineage. Her flawless complexion glowed with radiance, like that of untouched snow. The regal attire she wore, complete with a traditionally crafted headdress, highlighted each sharp feature of her face. And every strand of her fine, silky hair was carefully styled. Not a single one out of place.

She looked truly immaculate.

"After all these years," he began, hoping to keep the awe from his voice. "You're even more beautiful than I remember."

Rather than fondness, he felt a rush of resentment in the Force, and watched as Satine's eyes tightened. "Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery."

Ah, straight to brass tacks. Lovely.

Obi-Wan took a small stride towards his former lover. "I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, Duchess," he clarified. "However, a Separatist saboteur attacked one of our Republic cruisers." He pulled out a display and played the holorecording of the attack. "A Mandalorian saboteur."

A flicker of shock came from Satine, but a surge of denial from the Minister overpowered it.

"You must be mistaken. No Mandalorian would engage in such violence, not anymore," Almec declared before pressing, "Where is this prisoner now?"

A sigh escaped Obi-Wan's lips, the sound loud in the tense silence of the grand hall. "Rather than submit to questioning, he chose to end his own life. I know these commandos fought in many wars, often against the Jedi."

"Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am," Satine said, almost haughtily. Whatever momentary shock she had felt had transformed into staunch resolve.

Obi-Wan internally gawked. Such an incredible display of naivety. He wondered, was it a deliberate choice or a simple lack of awareness? But of course, like a true diplomat, Obi-Wan bit his tongue in protest.

"I know we sound defensive, but–" the man at her side began, Tal Merrik, if Obi-Wan was correct, but was immediately cut off as the Duchess continued.

"Clearly, your investigation was ordered by a Senate eager to intervene in our affairs."

"My investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council."

"…I stand corrected," Satine stated, displaying genuine surprise. But that surprise soon gave way to a calculating gaze. "General Kenobi, would you care to join me on a walk through the city?"

She reached out her hand and locked eyes with him, silently awaiting his decision. It was a subtle request concealed as a courteous offer, one that Obi-wan couldn't refuse.

Closing the gap, he gently grasped her delicate hand and helped her to her feet. She effortlessly intertwined her arm with his, and they headed out of the of the palace together, away from any prying ears.

They proceeded towards a park, or what passed as a park on Mandalore, situated near the palace, with a pair of guards following just a few steps behind them.

"It's so nice to see you again, Obi-Wan," she said sincerely, and finally he felt a sense of affection from the woman walking beside him. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."

"The feeling is mutual, my dear," he replied, giving her a faint smile, which she returned.

They walked in silence for some time, Obi-Wan observing the bustling city as they did. There was a certain harmony that seemed to have settled over Sundari and its citizens in the Force. A quiet contentment.

 "Your peaceful ways have paid off," he commented, breaking the silence between them. "Mandalore has truly prospered since the last time I was here."

The brightness of her smile faded as she turned her eyes elsewhere. "Not all Mandalorians view our devotion to peace as an indication of progress." A wave of despair and frustration rolled off her in the Force. "Death Watch has seen a resurgence. I imagine they are the ones behind the attack." She spared him a glance. "As you know, they idolize violence and the warrior ways of the past." She paused, turning to face him fully. "There are certain officials who are working to root them out. It has been an ongoing investigation."

"Death Watch has returned?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. It had been years since he had heard that group's name, not since he had last seen Satine. "I thought they had all—"

"Died out? We all had," Satine said with a resigned sigh. "Ever since Jango Fett killed Tor Vizla. We had thought, and hoped, with his death, so went Death Watch."

With his hand on his beard, Obi-Wan mulled over the newly revealed information. "And how widespread is the new Death Watch movement?"

"Calling it a movement is an exaggeration," Satine responded. "It's a small faction of criminals, nothing more. We've tracked them to Concordia and will soon have them in custody."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He couldn't help but think that in her determination to keep this confined to a Mandalorian dispute, she would overlook the possible seriousness of the situation.

 "Of course," he conceded. "Well, for your sake, I hope you're right, Duchess."

"I am," she said firmly, her usual confident poise returning. She resumed walking once more, and Obi-Wan stared after her for a moment before following.

Though Obi-Wan's gaze remained fixated on Satine as they ambled through a city square, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to Anakin, drawing parallels between the young Sith and his former lover. They shared striking physical similarities, both tall, statuesque, and gorgeous. And beyond their appearances, their personalities mirrored one another - stubborn, intelligent, fiercely loyal, and passionately driven.

But at their cores, the two were truly opposite - Satine exuding a certain delicate, poised grace, and Anakin possessing an unmatched bold, lethal beauty.

It was like witnessing a serene moon and a burning sun.

Perhaps because of recent events, or the growing sympathy he felt for Anakin, but Obi-Wan had developed feelings for her. Though he couldn't quite decipher the nature of those emotions just yet.

Anakin had firmly planted herself in his life, becoming a regular part of his routine, and it was inevitable for her to occupy his thoughts.

He couldn't help but ponder how strongly the young Sith would despise Satine. She was far from being inclined towards pacifism or the path of peacekeeping. It was likely that she would prefer the Mandalorians of olde, with all the brutality and petty bloodshed.

He had not had the chance to talk to Anakin since her master had assaulted her. She was unwilling to discuss the matter, or at least, that was his assumption. Whenever their Dyad brought them together, she would refuse to speak, immediately pushing him away.

Fortunately, this Mandalorian issue had arisen, giving Obi-Wan something to occupy his mind for the time being. He would have this distraction until he could have a proper conversation with his stubborn Sith.

He and Satine strolled for a while until, as expected, their conversation circled back to the war, and the Jedi's central part in it.

"A peacekeeper belongs on the front lines of conflict," Obi-Wan asserted. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to do his job.

"The work of a peacekeeper," Satine countered, "should be to assure conflict does not arise."

"Yes, quite the noble description, but not a realistic one."

"There is no reason it cannot be both."

"Still the idealist, I see, my dear."

"I would call myself a realist."

"How funny, so would I."

She gave a small hum. "And is reality what makes a Jedi abandon his ideals? Or is it simply a response to political convenience?"

Just for a moment, he allowed himself to let his guard down. In that split second, he missed the ripple in the Force, warning him of impending danger.

Obi-Wan barely perceived the prickle that something was wrong, a powerful urge of caution, when a deafening explosion rocked the surroundings. Brief chaos engulfed everything as people screamed, their voices carrying through the billowing plume of black smoke that filled the air.

He moved to shield Satine despite the action being now rendered unnecessary. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied hastily, though he could hear the slight tremor in her voice.

Even with what she said, he carefully examined her, confirming with his eyes that she was indeed uninjured. All the while, he chastised himself for his carelessness. Her presence had distracted him, something he had feared. He knew he should have asked for another to be sent in his stead.

"I said I was I fine," Satine insisted, pushing him aside once on her feet.

She rushed to the nearest downed citizen as Obi-Wan shifted his focus to the surrounding area. Channeling the Force, he swept his presence across the vicinity, breathing heavily at discovering a few beyond saving under the rubble.

Only one building lay in ruins, and a handful of individuals suffered severe injuries and more with minor ones amidst the debris. The sight of the demolished structure was unsettling, with fragments of stone scattered across the ground and the pungent smell of dust and smoke lingering in the air.

"Mere criminals couldn't have arranged an attack on this scale," he stated somberly as he came to stand next to the Duchess. "This is something else. Something much more deadly."

Satine looked up at him. "The work of an offworlder, then," she insisted.

Ever the stubborn thing, wasn't she?

Obi-Wan glanced over her shoulder and frowned as he spotted the sinister red glow of a holodisplay. "Are you sure of that?"

She followed his gaze, her breath catching in her throat as she, too, recognized the symbol. "Death Watch."

"This goes far beyond vandalism, Satine." Obi-Wan stated, leveling her with a serious look as she met his eyes once more. "This is a political statement against you and your government." He could hear a protest coming and quickly continued. "You're not safe here. I need to get you back to the palace."

He helped her to her feet and started to lead her away, but paused as he noted the gathered crowd. "I want to interview everyone here," he declared, addressing the amassed citizens. "Nobody leaves this scene."

In the crowd, a sense of fear and confusion lingered, but suddenly, one individual succumbed to an overwhelming spike of sheer panic. Obi-Wan locked eyes with the man, and without hesitation, he bolted off in a frantic sprint. Obi-Wan pursued him, navigating through the gathered masses as he chased down the fleeing criminal.

He followed the criminal to a rooftop overlook, where the man came to a halt at the far end, turning to face him with his back against the railing.

Obi-Wan paused a few meters away and raised his hand in defense. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The words were barely out of his mouth before the man drew a blaster and unleashed a barrage of shots. Dodging with grace, Obi-Wan rolled to the side, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber as he rose to his feet.

With a swift motion, he redirected the incoming blaster fire, the energy deflecting off the blade and striking the man's hand, sending his blaster clattering to the ground. Weaponless, the man lunged at Obi-Wan, but he effortlessly dealt with him, promptly incapacitating the man, and sending him skidding away.

As the criminal regained his footing, Obi-Wan heard footsteps drawing near and sensed Satine's presence through the Force.

Blast.

He threw out his hand to halt her approach. "Stay back!"

Once again, the distraction created an opportunity, and the man rushed towards the edge of the roof. He climbed onto the railing and stood on top of it, making his intentions very clear.

He spoke in Mando'a, but his declaration was lost on Obi-Wan, the words spoken in a rough dialect that he couldn't understand.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the man plummeted himself off the overlook. A sickening crunch resounded loudly as his body collided with the unyielding ground a hundred meters below. Horrified screams and exclamations of onlookers filled the air, creating yet another cacophony of panic.

Obi-Wan and Satine hurried to the edge of the roof, their breath catching at the sight. Satine gasped, her hands instinctively clasping over her mouth in shock as Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

A wave of the man's anguish and pain washed over Obi-Wan as he felt his life energy fading. The intensity of his suffering screamed loudly in the Force, intertwining with the cries of the other injured and dying individuals mere blocks away.

Yet another harsh reminder of the fragility of life.

Together, he and the Duchess descended to the lower level below. Satine, ever the compassionate woman she was, kneeled by the dying man's side.

His voice was weak, his breaths ragged and sharp as he seemed to muster the last of his strength to speak to her.

Obi-Wan took a tentative step toward the Duchess. "What is he saying?" he asked, but she ignored him, leaning in closer as the dying man's words grew fainter, too faint for those without Force enhanced perception to pick up on.

The man's words abruptly stopped as he took his final, labored breath, his lungs overwhelmed with blood, and his life extinguished shortly after.

As Satine leaned back, the weight of her despair was almost palpable. "He," she cleared her throat, straightening her posture. "He was speaking in the Concordian dialect."

Ah, so that was why Obi-Wan couldn't understand it.

He offered her his hand, which she took without objection, letting him help her stand.

"I should like to visit this moon of yours," he stated, slowly ushering her away from the scene. "Perhaps I could accompany the body."

She shook her head. "The Concordian moon is a province with its own separate government. You'll need me to escort you."

"That won't be necessary—"

"Actually, it will. I doubt Pre Vizsla will take kindly to you. Especially since you've just been involved with the death of a Concordian."

"I didn't kill—"

"I know," she once more interrupted, the faintest of smiles on her face. "If you had, I wouldn't still be talking to you."

Obi-Wan gazed at her, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

Stars above. He had completely forgotten just how deeply he had once adored this woman. "Right then. Together to Concordia?"

"I'll arrange for a shuttle's departure immediately."

*****

An assassination was a task far beneath Anakin's capabilities.

It was a task for some common bounty hunter. She was better than that. More skilled than that. She was a Sith Lady for Force's sake.

Yet, here she was. Tasked with aiding in the assassination of the Duchess of Mandalore.

Kriff her life.

And having to coordinate with Dooku? And that obnoxious Pre Vizsla? Truly, she was in the innermost circles of the Sith Hells.

Her master better forgive her for the discretion on Coruscant after this. A discretion that wasn't even her fault.

Kriffing Force Dyad.

Anakin stood beside the Count, her arms crossed, and listened with boredom as the old man conversed with Vizsla about his failed attempts to eliminate the Duchess on Concordia. The Mandalorian appeared worn out, his holo image flickering as he recounted his failure. Anakin's interest, though, piqued when she heard a familiar name slip from the man's lips.

"—and killing Kenobi proved to be more challenging than I anticipated," Vizsla explained, a mix of disgust and annoyance lacing his words.

"Kenobi?" she questioned aloud before she could stop herself. Dooku glanced at her sharply, but chose not to address her. She wasn't sure if he knew about her and Obi-Wan's connection — she couldn't imagine her Master would have disclosed anything. However, she detected a flicker of recognition in his eyes, some form of acknowledgement.

The Count turned his attention back to the Mandalorian. "Indeed, Master Kenobi has a knack for appearing at the most inconvenient moments and has proven to be quite challenging to eliminate."

Anakin stifled a huff of amusement. Her Jedi was impressive that way.

"They managed to escape back to Sundari," Vizsla continued.

Anakin responded with a smirk, "You failed to kill just one Jedi and a pacifist ruler. Very impressive."

This remark earned her a scowl from the Mandalorian. "We have another plan," he growled at her.

"Oh, really?"

"Representatives from the Neutral Systems will be heading to Coruscant to meet with the Senate," Dooku explained. "And the Duchess will be among them."

"And she will be accompanied by a Death Watch sympathizer who is more than willing to help us kill her," Vizsla added with a smug tone.

Anakin raised a skeptical brow. "Presumably, the Jedi and their clones will also be there to protect the representatives. How do you expect a diplomat to bypass the Jedi and their reinforcements when you, a Mandalorian warrior," she sneered, "failed to defeat just one on your own? Is your ally more skilled with lightsabers than you?"

The man glared at her. "Listen here you little sch—" he began to retort, but Dooku interrupted.

"Means of killing the Duchess have already been arranged," the older Sith stated. "And if the assassination attempt aboard the Coronet fails, then you, Lady Vader, have been assigned to personally ensure her death. That is what Lord Sidious has decreed, isn't it?"

Anakin frowned, biting her cheek to prevent herself from retorting. "Yes," she conceded lowly.

"I doubt we'll need her help," Vizsla replied, his arrogance returning.

"You better hope you don't," Anakin muttered to herself, and tuned out the men once more as they continued their discussions and plotting.

~~~~~

Anakin paced as she monitored the situation. The Duchess had been captured, Death Watch had sent in reinforcements.

But then things changed.

She hadn't intended to join Obi-Wan, but there she stood, by his side, as he confronted a man who had the Duchess in his grip. Her Jedi briefly glanced at her, then focused back on his adversary. It was clear that Death Watch's plan was not going entirely to plan, but that was not her primary concern.

She had sensed Obi-Wan's intense fear and panic, something uncharacteristic of the man, and unconsciously went to him to ensure his safety. It took all her concentration to be in the space Obi-Wan was occupying, to see what he saw.

And now she realized that his panic was not about himself, but about the well-being of the Duchess. But why such a vehement reaction to this political leader's life being in jeopardy? Surely her Jedi had encountered many threats to nobles and galactic leaders during his missions.

"Tal Merrik, you are under arrest," Obi-Wan declared, his lightsaber raised and pointed towards the man. "Release the Duchess."

"Hmm, I think not," Merrik replied, sounding overly confident in Anakin's opinion, considering he was at the mercy of her Jedi. "I took the precaution of wiring the ship's engines to explode. If I press this remote," he emphasized, holding up a device in his hand, "we will all die."

"Obi, if you have any respect for me, you will not take such risks with so many lives at stake," the Duchess pleaded.

Anakin bristled immediately at the familiarity. "Obi?" she spat with disdain, looking at Obi-Wan for an explanation, but he disregarded her.

"Satine…" There was a surge of anguish from her Jedi, his face contorted with anguish.

Oh.

Anakin's body tensed even further, understanding the situation at hand. Obi-Wan had a history with this woman.

"Don't," Obi-Wan called out, as Merrik began shuffling himself and the Duchess towards the door. Naturally, the man kept moving backwards, distancing himself from the Jedi, his arm tightening around the woman in his grasp.

With each step Merrik took down the hallway, Obi-Wan countered with a step forward, his lightsaber poised and ready to strike if necessary. Anakin trailed behind, striding with a sense of urgency, trying and failing to keep her anger from bubbling to the surface.

"Control yourself," Obi-Wan hissed at Anakin in a hushed whisper.

"How do you know the Duchess, Obi-Wan?" Anakin demanded, paying no attention to the Jedi's warning.

"That's not a topic we need to discuss right now." His voice was still low and filled with tension, and he continued to advance as Merrik retreated down the dimly lit corridor.

"She seems to know you quite well."

They arrived at one of the Separatist forces ships, where Merrik instructed Death Watch to disengage once he had boarded.

"Obi-Wan, it seems like I might never see you again," the Duchess began, her voice solemn. "I don't quite know how to say this, but I…I've loved you since the moment you came to my aid all those years ago."

A frustrated snarl escaped Anakin. Love? This pathetic woman loved Obi-Wan? How audacious. How utterly repulsive.

Obi-Wan's eyes briefly flickered to Anakin before returning to the Duchess. "Satine, this is hardly the appropriate time or place for…" The woman locked eyes with him; a silent plead. Anakin felt a surge of new emotions from her Jedi - frustration, agony, affection, longing…love.

"Alright," Obi-Wan conceded. "If you had asked, I would have left the Jedi Order."

"What?!" Anakin hissed.

Gripping her lightsaber tightly, she suddenly saw red. The conversation continued between the three, but Anakin was utterly deaf to anything except the pounding of blood in her ears, consumed by her sorrow and rage.

Her Jedi, the one who valued the Order above all else, had once been willing to leave it for this woman, but he wasn't willing to consider leaving it for her?

That karking bastard!

She fought against the fire of emotions thundering within her, and when she finally tuned back into her surroundings, she realized the Duchess had somehow managed to escape Merrik's grasp. Now, she was wielding the blaster that the man had been holding.

Merrik glanced back and forth between Obi-Wan and the Duchess, and the weapons pointed at him. "This is quite the turn of events, but even if I don't hand the Duchess over to the Separatists, I still come out on top," he boasted, brandishing that device in his hand. "The second I'm away, I'll blow the Coronet to bits."

"I will not allow that to happen," Kryze responded, but Anakin could detect the wavering in her voice and see her trembling hands gripping the blaster—her feeble, pacifist hands. That woman couldn't fathom taking a life, not even in such dire circumstances.

Truly, the Duchess was a pathetic figure.

"What will you do?" Merrik practically taunted. "If you shoot me, you'll prove yourself a hypocrite, contradicting every pacifist belief you hold dear."

Anakin reluctantly agreed. The Duchess was incapable of hypocrisy. She'd rather see everyone on the ship perish than betray her principles. Even if it meant letting Obi-Wan die, the man she claimed to love. And that was something Anakin would never allow.

"And you, Kenobi, you are no stranger to violence," Merrik continued with a smirk. "You would be hailed as a hero by everyone on this ship." Both his and Obi-Wan's eyes flickered to the Duchess. "Well, almost everyone."

Obi-Wan's guilt and indecisiveness resonated strongly through their bond. He hesitated to strike, despite how easily both he and Anakin knew he could end this standoff. That woman was causing doubt in her Jedi. He was unsure of what to do, even though the choice was so obvious and the solution was so simple.

Her Jedi's emotions were obstructing his actions, and Anakin would not stand for that.

"Come on, then. Who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?"

Anakin snarled, hurling her lightsaber and activating it mid-air. The saber emitted a low hum as it cut through the rift in space, its crimson light flooding the dimly lit hallway and casting an eerie glow on all those present. Before anyone could fully comprehend the unfolding events, Merrik gasped, his chest pierced by the red plasma, instantly extinguishing his life.

Obi-Wan and the Duchess stood in disbelief, their mouths agape, as they witnessed the lightsaber retract and the lifeless body slump to the floor. Anakin's hand swiftly caught the returning weapon, her grip tightening as her hand dropped to her side. Her stony gaze fixated on the deceased man before her.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan murmured. The Duchess echoed her name, her expression an array of confusion and distress.

"What?" Anakin snapped. "He was about to kill you, and you were just standing there, doing nothing."

Obi-Wan, for the first time in her memory, appeared speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he gazed at her. Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, Anakin sensed a faint sense of relief emanating from him, as well as something akin to gratitude.

Anakin let out a frustrated sigh and averted her gaze. "Thank me later, once you've sorted all of this out," she declared, pulling herself from his presence and breaking their connection.

*****

Obi-Wan found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the place where his Sith had just been. The sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway, though, shattered his trance, and he turned to find Qui-Gon emerging in the doorway.

Pausing, Qui-Gon's eyes fell upon the lifeless body lying on the floor. "It seems the issue of the Duchess being kidnapped has been resolved," the older Jedi remarked, his gaze fixed on the charred hole in Merrik's chest.

"Yes, I'll explain the details later," Obi-Wan stated, sounding distant to his own ears.

Qui-Gon's brow furrowed with concern. "Are you alright, Obi-Wan?"

Quickly regaining composure, Obi-Wan nodded in affirmation and walked over to Satine. As she turned to face him, she tossed the blaster from her hands.

"Obi-Wan, I…" Satine began, but her words trailed off as the sound of more footsteps reached their ears, Cody, accompanied by a few other troops, having arrived.

"General Jinn, we have defeated the last of the droids," declared the clone commander.

"Very good, Cody," Qui-Gon replied, before glancing at Obi-Wan expectantly.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, meeting Satine's gaze. They locked eyes for a moment before she straightened her posture and turned to leave.

"I must return to the business of diplomacy."

Obi-Wan nodded, his sad eyes lingering on her retreating figure. "Yes, of course."

~~~~~

Regrettably, or perhaps thankfully, he didn't encounter Satine again that night. And even more fortunately, it wasn't until after they reported the attack to the Council that Qui-Gon brought up the subject of Merrik's death. He had allowed Obi-Wan to take responsibility for the terrorist's demise, but he knew his former master suspected a different offender.

 "Vader killed Merrik," the older man casually remarked, seeming too nonchalant about the matter. "I assume she did so, for your sake?"

"More or less," Obi-Wan said. "Although I would say she was simply looking for a way to vent her anger."

The two of them left the communications room and walked down the hallway towards their quarters.

"Her anger?" Qui-Gon asked.

"She wasn't pleased to learn about my romantic history with Satine," Obi-Wan explained. He glanced at his former master and noticed the barely contained amusement.

"She was jealous?"

"Jealous would be an understatement, Master," Obi-Wan replied tiredly. "She was completely enraged and disgusted."

Qui-Gon scoffed to cover a chuckle.

"Her hatred for Satine was immediate," Obi-Wan continued. "And I don't think it helped that I hesitated to put an end to Merrik."

The mirth on Qui-Gon's face faded. "You didn't want to risk upsetting Satine. Obi-Wan—"

"Yes, yes, I know. I allowed my feelings for her to cloud my judgment," Obi-Wan interjected before his former master could lecture him. Stars, he suddenly felt like a padawan again. "It was a mistake, a serious one that could have put everyone on this ship in danger." He felt guilt and self-degradation rising to the surface.

Seeming to sense this, Qui-Gon reached out, briefly placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "It was a mistake you won't repeat," he assured him with a gentle look. "Now, perhaps you should meditate."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "Yes. I think I will."

"You can also take the time to thank Lady Vader for saving you."

Obi-Wan almost tripped on air, glancing back to catch the return of amusement twinkling in Qui-Gon's eyes. However, he swiftly regained his composure and proceeded to his room, leaving his entertained former master in his wake.

As he entered his quarters, the door closed behind him, and he felt relieved to finally be alone. He sat down on a cushion and closed his eyes, attempting to clear his mind and find a sense of calm.

He was aware of the necessity to meditate and contemplate the day's events, yet his thoughts kept wandering back to Satine - her heartfelt confession and the intricacy of emotions entangled in their past relationship. And then there was Anakin — the Sith woman who evoked an even more convoluted array of feelings within him.

As Obi-Wan delved deeper into his meditation, he reluctantly came to the realization that he needed to confront his feelings directly — something he had never enjoyed doing. It was time to accept that while his love for Satine might never completely fade, those feelings belonged to the past and should stay there.

He needed to embrace his current situation, and as much as he wished to deny it, he was in a new relationship.

Despite everything that had happened, despite everything she represented, he couldn't deny his care for Anakin. These feelings were deep and profound, surpassing even what he had felt for Satine. While he wasn't bold enough to label it as love, it certainly teetered on that fine line.

And he could easily see himself crossing that line.

However, there were many things they needed to discuss and work through. One significant and obvious issue being the fact that they found themselves on opposing sides of a war. Oh, and that he was a Jedi, and she was a Sith.

But those were semantics.

Before anything else, Anakin had saved him, as well as all else present on the Coronet, and he owed her his gratitude.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan reached out towards the Sith's force presence.

Soon she stood before him, tense and guarded, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"Took you long enough," Anakin remarked with a huff.

Obi-Wan offered an explanation rather than an apology. "There were some loose ends that needed to be addressed first."

She nodded. "Right, of course. You had to make sure your pacifist lover was taken care of after all that violence."

"She is not my lover."

Anakin scoffed, moving to the bed and sitting on the edge. Obi-Wan sighed, standing up and approaching her.

"She is not my lover, Anakin," he repeated. "We were involved once, but that was long ago. We have since gone our separate ways and chosen different paths."

She wore an indignant pout on her lips. "You said you would leave the Order for her."

"I would have," he answered honestly. Anakin growled softly at that, and he continued, "When I was young and in love with her. I would have done anything for her. But I am no longer that young, foolish-hearted man."

"Do you still love her?" Anakin pressed, her anger overshadowed by sorrow in the Force.

"I do," Obi-Wan replied softly. "I always will."

She took a sharp breath. "I see."

"It is a nostalgic love, Anakin," Obi-Wan added, his voice gentle. "One that I will always carry. It is a fond memory of what could have been but will never be. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Why would you leave the Order for someone like her, but won't even consider it for me?" she blurted out, her voice trembling with frustration. "We have so much more between us, something so mystical and beautiful," she continued, words filled with longing. She shook her head, strands of her hair falling across her face. "We could leave together, Obi-Wan. Be together. Somewhere far away from the war or my master. Wild space, a different galaxy, even."

Obi-Wan felt his gaze soften as he moved to sit beside her. She shifted away slightly, but didn't pull away as he gently rested his hand on top of hers, the warmth of their connection bringing a fleeting sense of comfort.

"I cannot abandon the Order, Anakin. Not now. Not during all this chaos," he explained, his voice firm, filled with resolve. She made a move to pull her hand away, but he held tight, silently begging her to understand. "But I will consider it," he continued, "when and if we win this war." Her eyes traveled from their joined hands to his face, revealing a multitude of conflicting feelings; pain, anger, and sadness etched across her features. "But I need to know…are you willing to leave your Master?"

"Of course," came her immediate response. "I would leave him for you. I would do anything for you."

"Then why not leave him now?"

"…I can't."

"Why not? What difference would it make if you leave him now or after we have defeated him?" Obi-Wan pressed, keeping his tone gentle yet persistent.

"What makes you think you can?" she challenged.

"Because we have to," he said plainly. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "And we could do so easier, with you aligning yourself with us," he broached, his eyes pleading. "If you choose to, you could leave him right now. You have the power to do so. And I would do everything in my power to ensure you are clear of any crimes you've committed if you pledge to helping the Republic and helping us win this war."

Her response was instantaneous, her energy flaring in the Force, a surge of emotions swirling around them.

"Oh, so that's how it is," Anakin said coolly. She roughly retracted her hand, narrowed eyes fixated on him. "Do you even care about me?" she demanded. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation. He could feel the weight of her doubt, her fear of betrayal. "Or was this all just some elaborate plot? Making me weak and vulnerable, gaining my trust only so that I'd betray my Master?"

"Every time he lays his hands on you, he betrays you," Obi-Wan interjected, unable to hold back.

She tensed, fully aware of what he was referring to. "That was simply punishment. I told you—"

"How can you defend such abuse?"

"He doesn't abuse—"

"He raped you, Anakin. And I doubt that was the first time." They had been avoiding this conversation for weeks, but it needed to be addressed here and now. "That is one of the cruelest forms of abuse."

"You don't understand."

"It's not something I wish to understand."

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "Everything he does is for my benefit. To make me stronger, to fuel my rage, my power. Whether it's praise or punishment." She attempted to withdraw her presence from his, hoping to bring an end to the conversation, but he clung to her, intertwining their energies and keeping her rooted by his side.

He was able to catch her off guard by this display and pressed on. "He doesn't care about you. You're just a means to an end. You know that," he said, before his voice softened. "In your heart, you must know that."

He watched as she swallowed hard, her gaze shifting away from his intense stare. "Let me leave. Please."

Rising from his seat, Obi-Wan's hand trembled slightly as he reached out, his fingertips gently brushing against her cheek. "I do care, though," he declared softly, voice filled with sincerity. "I care about you, Anakin,"

There was a faint sniffle from the Sith and she closed her eyes tightly, so plainly struggling to hold back tears that threatened to escape.

"I care deeply about you, and I don't want to see you hurt, not by anyone." Keeping his voice steady, Obi-Wan continued, "These feelings I have for you are real, not a facade or manipulation. All I want is what's best for you. And I want you to want the same. To care about yourself, to choose what will truly make you happy."

"How can you possibly know that leaving him is what's best for me?" she whispered, leaning into his touch as her eyes fluttered open. For a fleeting moment, Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but her eyes seemed to shimmer a brilliant cerulean blue.

It was the most beautiful color he had ever seen.

"I can't say for certain," he replied. "All I can say is that serving a man who hurts you and controls you like Sidious does is no way to exist. You deserve better."

A tremor ran through Anakin's voice as she protested, "He's all I have."

"No, you have me," Obi-Wan asserted.

With a shake of her head, she withdrew from his touch. "No, I don't. I can't have you until you serve only yourself. Not the Republic, not the Jedi. Just you."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but realized he had no reply to that.

He released her, and she disappeared, leaving him alone in his room.