Star Wars fic: Dirt in the Machine (6)
Mar. 19th, 2012 09:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardPrevious chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5. Or read it on the AO3.
Content advisory for dubcon in a dream sequence, language, and violence.
Obi-Wan is kissing Anakin.
He has one hand fisted tightly in her hair, the other curved around her waist, with his mouth open and eager against hers. Obi-Wan slides her tongue against his, their teeth clashing briefly together before she adjusts the angle, her head tipped back to accommodate Anakin’s height. His padawan braid tickles her shoulder and she curls her hand around it, possessive.
He grins against her mouth. “I love you.”
“I know,” Obi-Wan says, shuddering as he moves his mouth to her neck, his fingers pressing shyly against the strip of skin between her trousers and her loose undershirt. She feels the question in the Force and murmurs back assent, helping Anakin get her shirt off.
He’s seen her naked or nearly naked a thousand times before, so there’s nothing new to see, except that this time he’s looking at her with intent, sliding his fingers curiously up her abdomen to the underside of her breasts. His hands are a lot bigger than Obi-Wan remembers them being from hand-to-hand sparring practice, spanning the small of her back easily. He dips his mouth to her collarbone and licks it, decisively, making Obi-Wan laugh. Anakin gives her a hurt look and Obi-Wan uses her grip on his braid to tilt his head up for another biting kiss, light and teasing.
He’s lost his own shirt somewhere along the way. Obi-Wan takes advantage of this to run her hands up the expanse of tanned skin, feeling the muscle underneath, a few scars from blaster shots and glancing lightsaber blows. Anakin shivers beneath her touch, letting Obi-Wan push him down onto the bed and lean down to kiss him again, her hair falling in a red veil on either side of them, closing them off from the rest of the world. His hands settle comfortably on her waist, steady and familiar, the one flesh and the other body-warm durasteel. Obi-Wan smiles and kisses him again, insistent, their bodies pressed together as their still-clothed legs tangle, the sheets rumpling beneath them.
She closes her eyes, Anakin rolling them over with his hands closing decisively on her wrists. He nuzzles her neck, her shoulder, her breasts, his beard scratching a little at the soft skin, and she makes a soft sound of bemused protest, trying to get her hands free. His grip tightens, pressing her down against the bed, and moves his mouth up against hers again, his tongue plunging in demandingly. Obi-Wan shudders, her hips moving up against his.
It’s the lightsaber calluses – or lack thereof, rather – that tell her something is wrong, not the beard. Anakin’s right hand is durasteel; he shouldn’t have calluses there. Obi-Wan opens her eyes.
Dooku, not Anakin, is pinning her to the bed, kissing her deeply. Obi-Wan panics – wants to panic, wants to push him away and call her lightsaber into her hand, but while her mind is teetering on the edge of hysteria her body is responding to Dooku’s caresses. She hears herself moan as he frees her hands, reaching down to remove her brassiere, helping him get her trousers off. Some distant part of her mind notes that they’re black, rather than her usual off-white. Her discarded shirt is black as well.
Dooku kisses his way down her body, lingering at her now-bare breasts without any of Anakin’s shy hesitation. Obi-Wan’s hands fold themselves into his hair, encouraging him as he presses kisses against her belly, hooking his fingers into her underwear. While Obi-Wan’s mind screams terrified protest, her hips are arching themselves off so that he can peel her underwear off. His beard scratches against her skin as he presses a kiss to her thigh, against the scar he’d made at the Battle of Geonosis. She fists her hands in the sheets, her head falling back, and when she looks up again it’s not Dooku kneeling between her thighs, but Darth Maul, his teeth bared in a grin beneath his red and black features.
Obi-Wan screams.
She fights her way up out of a tangle of sheets, the remnants of the scream still trembling on her lips as Anakin throws himself out of his own bed and towards her. “Master, what is it? Are you all right?”
She scrubs her hands furiously across her mouth, across her clothed thighs, and finally forces them to shuddering stillness. “I’m fine,” she manages.
Anakin’s hands hover worriedly over her. “You haven’t done that in years,” he says finally.
For years after Qui-Gon had died, Obi-Wan had had nightmares about the duel in Theed. She knows she should have exorcised Maul’s ghost when she killed him, but he’d haunted her dreams anyway, a thousand ways the duel could have gone – better, worse, the same, over and over again. She’d thought that they had finally passed.
She twists her single long braid around her wrist, remembering how the dream had begun and not wanting to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan says, glancing up as the door slides open. “It was only a nightmare.”
“Your nightmare’s just beginning, Kenobi,” Tol Skorr announces, standing aside as Dooku comes in, followed by Quinlan Vos.
Obi-Wan and Anakin turn towards them, Obi-Wan calling the syringe into her hand and slipping it quickly into her pocket. She doesn’t think any of the others notice, and covers the movement by reaching down to pull her boots on.
“What do you want?” Anakin demands, shifting into a defensive position.
Dooku ignores him. “General Fisto’s fleet has been in orbit around Dac for two weeks now,” he announces. “Several hours ago his fleet went into hyperspace and vanished. General Choi’s fleet was diverted en route to Poltara and has also vanished. Where are they, General Kenobi?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says calmly, even though her heart leaps at the words. “I’ve been here for the past several days; it’s possible that new intelligence came in that I haven’t been privy to as your prisoner.”
“Where are Kit Fisto and Tsui Choi, General?”
“I don’t know,” she repeats.
“Aayla Secura, Adi Gallia, Sian Jeisel, and Stass Allie have also left their commands, apparently at the order of the Jedi Council,” Dooku goes on. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says decisively. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I am wondering about your sources, though.”
Dooku tips his head towards Skorr. “Time’s up, General Kenobi. Take them both down to interrogation.”
Skorr grins, showing his teeth. “With pleasure, Master.”
He jerks Obi-Wan to her feet, pulling her arms around behind her back to cuff them. Quinlan does the same with Anakin, and the two of them are propelled out into the hallway, where an escort of battle droids and two magnaguards are waiting.
Dooku follows them down the corridor to an elevator. “You can still save your padawan, Master Kenobi. Tell me what you know of the Republic’s plans.”
“No.”
“What about you, Skywalker?”
“No,” Anakin says flatly.
“I see we’ll have to use an alternative means of persuasion,” Dooku remarks as they wait for the elevator.
“You won’t get anything out of us, Dooku,” Anakin snaps. “We’re Jedi. We’re trained to resist torture.”
“That will just make this more fun,” Skorr sneers.
Quinlan, Obi-Wan notices, doesn’t say anything at all. His face is completely expressionless, and Obi-Wan wonders if he even has an opinion on the subject. If Aayla’s with the fleet that she’s sure has been sent to intercept them, then she’ll be able to reach him. Aayla Secura had been Quinlan’s Padawan; they’re as close as any former Master and Padawan that Obi-Wan knows, and closer than most.
The elevator dings open, a rather incongruous sound in the midst of a warship, and the droids steer Anakin and Obi-Wan inside, followed by Vos, Skorr, and Dooku. It’s a tight fit; Obi-Wan might have tried to go for Skorr’s lightsaber if Dooku hadn’t been there, but two against three plus the droids aren’t good odds, even for Jedi. Even for her and Anakin.
She watches the elevator tick downwards, Anakin restless and tense at her shoulder. She can feel the Force gathered close around her, hopes that it’s tucked carefully enough beneath her skin that Dooku or the others don’t notice anything amiss. The syringe, with the capped hypodermic needle attached, is a light weight in her pocket; Obi-Wan is waiting for the Force to tell her when to use it. She’d helped Anakin purge the drug from his system last night after the med droid had left, both of them in trance so he could use the little bit of the Force still left to him to free the remainder of it. For all that he’s mad and a little reckless – all right, extremely reckless – Anakin has more combat skill than Knights twice his age, and Obi-Wan is certain that she and he together are perfectly capable of taking on Vos and Skorr, with or without their lightsabers. Dooku – well, to go up against Dooku, they’re going to want lightsabers.
Eventually the elevator deposits them into a corridor that looks exactly the same as the one they’d just left. They’re steered right, the droids in formation around them and Skorr leading the way, Vos striding alongside Obi-Wan and Dooku following them, his gaze hard on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, sharp with the Force.
They’ve been walking for five minutes when the entire ship shakes and Dooku’s comlink makes an urgent sound. He flicks it on and barks, “Why have we just left hyperspace? We’re still hours away from Serenno!” before the droid on the other end can get more than a few syllables out.
“Sir, a Republic fleet has just intercepted us!” the droid says. “We were forced out of hyperspace to avoid a collision. They’ve left hyperspace as well and are now moving to surround us. Orders, sir?”
Dooku turns on Obi-Wan. “How did you do this?” he demands.
Obi-Wan just smiles. “I think I’ve found Kit Fisto and his fleet for you.”
For a heartbeat, she thinks he’s going to strike her. Force lightning glitters at his fingertips; Obi-Wan draws in her breath, trying to prepare herself to absorb it if she has to, but instead Dooku drops his hand and strides away, calling over his shoulder, “Secure these two and meet me on the bridge.”
“Yes, Master,” Skorr says. To the droids, he says, “You heard him, get moving.”
They start walking again. Anakin says, “You know that the Jedi are coming for us.”
“Shut up, Skywalker,” he snaps.
“They’re coming, and when they get here you’re going to be arrested and tried for high treason, which trust me, you’re not going to enjoy,” Anakin says, getting into the swing of things. “You used to be a Jedi, so you’ll be tried by the Jedi Council for crimes against civilization. We don’t deal too kindly on that these days. You probably think the Jedi are weak, so it might not seem like much of a threat, but –”
“Shut up, Skywalker!” Skorr says, whirling on him and raising his hand to strike.
“Stop it!” Quinlan says, grabbing his wrist. “The Count said to take them to holding, so that’s what we’ll do. We –”
The comms system in the ship crackles. All of them, droids included, look up as a familiar voice came over the intercom. “This is Jedi General Kit Fisto. We have you surrounded. You are ordered to immediately surrender and prepare to be boarded. Release the prisoners General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Anakin Skywalker.”
Anakin is kept from snapping, “Ha!” in Skorr’s face only by Obi-Wan nudging him with the Force. She turns her attention on the Dark Jedi and says, “Release us and I’ll speak for you before the Council of Reconciliation.”
He sneers at her. “No.”
“You heard General Fisto: the Republic has this ship surrounded. You won’t be able to make a break for hyperspace. You were a Jedi once, Skorr. You know what it’s like to touch serenity. You can still come back from the Dark Side, I can sense it. You –”
“Keep walking, Kenobi.” He unhooks his lightsaber from his belt. “Dooku said he wanted you alive, but he didn’t say anything about being in one piece.”
The droids titter uncertainly, looking around for orders. Quin tries to push Skorr’s arm away. “This isn’t the time –”
“Quin,” Obi-Wan says, “we’ve always been friends. You don’t have to follow Dooku. You’re still a Jedi. You can come back.”
“Don’t listen to the bitch, Vos,” Skorr snaps, igniting his lightsaber. “¬If you fall for that you’re as weak as I always thought you were.”
Quinlan glances at him, taking his lightsaber off his belt. “Skorr –”
“I felt it inside you yesterday, Quin,” Obi-Wan says, talking quickly to cover the sound of Skorr’s rebuttals. “You don’t have to follow Dooku. You have to follow the path he’s chosen. The Dark Side of the Force does not rule you. I don’t know why you joined the Confederacy, but it can’t be worth your soul. No one will make you fight for the Republic, Quin, just don’t do this for Dooku. Think about what you’re being asked to do – torture a Jedi, torture a Padawan; you are not that man, Quin. I know you, and I know there is no evil in your spirit –”
His lightsaber moves blindingly fast, a figure-eight of flashing red that burns across Obi-Wan’s vision even after her binders have fallen off her wrists. Skorr shouts in rage, but she’s already moving, her heel snapping up against his chin and sending him into a backflip as droids scatter. Quin and Anakin, his binders cut, are moving amongst them, leaving scrap metal in their wake.
Obi-Wan ducks Skorr’s swing, kicking aside his saber arm and angling a punch against his jaw. He blocks it, his lightsaber swinging back towards her, and Obi-Wan flings herself backwards, turning head over heels in midair and landing flat-footed, her fists up in preparation. Skorr swings his lightsaber around, striding towards her, and Obi-Wan launches herself off the floor, bouncing sideways off the wall to slam her right foot against his jaw, sending him sprawling sideways briefly before he recovers himself. Obi-Wan bounces back to her feet, already moving upwards with another kick that slides in past his guard, and shoves him back a step before he recovers. He shouts and thrusts at her. Instinct makes Obi-Wan throw her hand out, the Force sending him sprawling backwards amongst the droid parts as Anakin batters a battle droid to scrap with his bare hands and Quin duels with a magnaguard. Skorr flips back on his feet, face twisted in hatred as he advances again, his free hand raising and closing into a fist.
The Force lifts her up off her feet, toes barely skimming the floor as Obi-Wan scrabbles a hand at her throat, struggling to breathe past the grasp of the Force around her. She flings her hand out, which makes the grasp loosen as Skorr puts his energy towards blocking her. Both their palms flatten in thin air, the Force struggling between them and bowing out the walls on either side of them. Skorr’s lightsaber deactivates, unnecessary at the moment. Obi-Wan is stronger in the Force than he is naturally, but he has the Dark Side.
Obi-Wan has serenity, and she reaches for it, lets the Force flow through her as she reaches out again, closes her fist, and twists. Skorr shouts and collapses, the pressure between them gone.
“You bitch!” he shouts as Obi-Wan approaches, his voice echoing through the long metal corridor. Neither his hands nor his legs move, unprotesting as she stretches her hand out and calls his lightsaber to her. “So you do have a Dark Side ¬–”
Anakin shoots the last battle droid in the head with a stolen blaster just as Quin slices the second magnaguard in two. “What did you do?” Anakin demands, looking down at Skorr.
“I broke his spine,” Obi-Wan says, and spares a fleeting worry for how close that is to what Darksiders do. “He’ll live to face trial, but he’ll never hold a lightsaber again.”
“You Jedi witch!”
Anakin kneels down and presses a finger to his forehead. “Sleep,” he orders, the Force behind it. Skorr’s eyes close immediately.
“How did you know I’d help you?” Quin asks, deactivating his lightsaber.
Obi-Wan smiles at him. “I suppose I just had faith,” she says.
She glances around at the wreckage in the hallway. “Kit and the others are on their way,” she says unnecessarily. “Quin, go secure the hangar bays for them, see if you can get on the comm to Master Fisto or Master Secura and let them know the situation. Anakin, find the droid control chamber and deactivate the battle droids and vulture droids. Try and find our lightsabers.”
“I think being a general has gone to your head,” Quin says lightly.
“Where are you going?” Anakin demands, more urgently.
Obi-Wan raises Skorr’s lightsaber. It’s bigger and a little heavier than hers is, designed for a man’s hands, but none of that really matters; she’s trained with Anakin’s lightsaber before and it had been Qui-Gon’s that she had used to kill Maul. It’s far better than no lightsaber at all.
“I’m going after Dooku,” she says.
*
Anakin, who after nearly twelve years as her padawan still lacks a certain amount of respect for her position as his master, tells her that she’s insane, she can’t possibly mean to go after Dooku on her own. Then he adds something about Asajj Ventress.
“Ventress left,” Quinlan informs them, swinging his lightsaber hilt idly in his hand as they walk back towards the elevator. “Dooku sent her after some weapons manufacturer on Geonosis.”
“You don’t have a lightsaber,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin.
“I can take –”
Quin’s hand closes decisively on his lightsaber. “No, you can’t. Obi-Wan, your Padawan is right –”
“All I’m going to do is keep him from running long enough for Kit and the others to get here and arrest him,” Obi-Wan says. “Which will be easier if we stop delaying!” She jabs impatiently at the elevator controls.
“The last time you dueled with Dooku he would have killed you if I wasn’t there!” Anakin tries again.
The elevator arrives and the three of them step inside, Anakin’s hand closing on Obi-Wan’s sleeve as Quin hits the controls. “Let me come with you,” he orders. “You need me.”
“I need you to disable the vulture droids so that the boarding party can land,” Obi-Wan says, all too aware of Quinlan’s curious gaze on them as the elevator shoots upwards. “We don’t have much time. The fleet will –”
The starship shudders as a hit makes it through the shields.
“– will try and disable the hyperdrive, but they don’t want to destroy the ship unless they have to, not with three Jedi and Count Dooku onboard. So you have to make sure the boarding party can make it through,” Obi-Wan finishes, putting her hand against the wall to catch her balance as the ship shakes again.
“Master Vos can do that,” Anakin argues. “You’re still hurt.”
“And you don’t have a lightsaber,” Obi-Wan snaps.
“I’ve got a blaster,” he says, hefting it.
“You know, you two argued a whole lot less when we were out on the Rim together before the war,” Quinlan observes.
“I like to pretend my padawan respected me then,” Obi-Wan grumbles, glancing at the elevator controls.
“I respect you!” Anakin protests. He sets his mouth stubbornly and his voice goes soft as he adds, “The last time I let you out of my sight during a battle I spent three weeks thinking you were dead and you spent three weeks chained to Asajj Ventress’s ceiling. And I can’t – I can’t do that again.”
Obi-Wan really wishes that Quinlan was anywhere else in the galaxy right now. She’s saved from Anakin making another declaration of undying passion – in front of a witness who’s perfectly capable of testifying in front of the Jedi Council this time – by the elevator coming to a stop, the door sliding open. Obi-Wan launches herself out of it and uses the Force to close the doors before Anakin can follow her.
And just like that, she’s alone on Count Dooku’s battle cruiser.
Skorr’s lightsaber hilt is warm against her palm. Obi-Wan grips it tightly, closing her eyes and reaching out with the Force to find Dooku. There are droids between them – battle droids, coming towards her. Obi-Wan doesn’t know if they’ve been sent to recapture her or not; doesn’t particularly care. She ignites Skorr’s lightsaber, the red blade sending strange shadows sliding across the floor in front of her, and steps out into the corridor.
“There she is!” cries a battle droid. “Set for stun and shoot her!”
Obi-Wan deflects the bolts easily. Deflected stun blasts don’t have any effect on droids, unfortunately, but that doesn’t matter; Obi-Wan throws the lightsaber and tosses herself into a backflip, blaster bolts skimming beneath her until she lands back on her feet, the hilt of Skorr’s lightsaber thudding solidly back into her palm. Six battle droids collapse in disassembled parts on the floor; the seventh squawks in alarm and takes off down the hallway, Obi-Wan in hot pursuit. She slices it in two before it’s gone more than three steps, kicking the parts out of her way
The door to the bridge is just beyond it. Obi-Wan flicks her fingers at it hopefully, but the blast doors are down and the Force won’t do anything against that without more energy than she really cares to expend. Instead she stops, reaching for the Force, and thrusts her lightsaber into the door up to the hilt. She can feel the heat shearing off it as she slowly carves a hole in the blast doors, using the Force to help the resistance of the triple layers of durasteel. If Dooku had ever considered that the Jedi might get this close to him, he would have added cortosis in. Obi-Wan is glad he hadn’t.
Hole cut, she stands back and shoves with the Force, sending the sheared-off section spinning across the bridge. Droids shout and scatter in its wake and Dooku turns around slowly, calling his lightsaber into his hand.
“Very impressive, Master Kenobi,” he observes.
Obi-Wan points the lightsaber at him. “Count Dooku, you’re under arrest in the name of the Jedi Council and the Galactic Republic for high treason and crimes against civilization.” She doesn’t pause as she slices a magnaguard’s head off, kicking a battle droid out of the way, and using the Force to fling two more against a wall, stunning them. “Will you come peacefully?”
Outside the transparisteel windows Obi-Wan can see Republic ships ringing the cruiser, the flashes of blasterfire as starfighters clash with vulture droids. She glances at the battle once, then turns her attention back to Dooku as she slices her way through two more magnaguards, knocking aside their electrostaffs and kicking one out of the way.
Dooku ignites his lightsaber. “Dare I ask what you’ve done with Skorr? I take it he’s no longer among the living.”
Obi-Wan brings Skorr’s lightsaber up into the opening position for her favored lightsaber form of Soresu – blade held back in one hand, non-dominant hand out so that she can channel the Force through it. “Oh, he’s alive,” she says. “He’s just not very happy.”
“Uh, orders, sir?” one of the remaining droids inquires timidly, cowering behind a control.
“Get us into hyperspace,” Dooku snaps, not looking at it. He and Obi-Wan move towards each other, stepping over droid parts. “You cannot defeat me, Master Kenobi. We’ve ascertained this.”
“I don’t need to defeat you,” Obi-Wan say, letting herself smile, a small, savage expression. Anakin would appreciate it. Qui-Gon wouldn’t have. “I just need to keep you occupied until the rest of the Jedi get here.”
“Do you,” Dooku says. “And I suppose the Jedi Council doesn’t care about the second Sith Lord?”
“It’s Supreme Chancellor Palpatine,” Obi-Wan says. “Isn’t it?”
He blinks once, slow. “You’re not as dull as I thought, Master Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan just feels cold. She knows her history; few Sith Lords are content to watch and wait and manipulate from the sidelines the way that Palpatine has done. She has to get back to Coruscant so that they can warn the Council and remove him from power as quietly as possible.
But first she has to do this.
She feels the shift in the Force, the faint tremor along her skin, and isn’t taken by surprise as Dooku uses the Force to fling the remnants of three battle droids at her; Obi-Wan throws them back at him and uses the momentary confusion this causes – the remaining droids still in a state of some panic – to launch herself up into a smooth flip that covers the distance between them. Dooku’s lightsaber arcs up to meet hers as she touches down, plasma hissing close enough that it singes the bottom of Obi-Wan’s braid as she whirls round, snapping a kick against his knee that momentarily unbalances him before he counters her. Lightsabers crackle as Dooku slowly, inexorably herds her the way he wants them both to go.
Obi-Wan is younger and faster, but Dooku has height and reach on her – not usually a problem when Obi-Wan has spent her entire life training with men bigger and stronger than she is, first with Qui-Gon, then with Anakin, but a definite disadvantage when she’s wounded and tiring more quickly than usual. Worse, Dooku knows it.
“You are a worthy opponent, Master Kenobi,” he observes, sounding approving as Obi-Wan parries one of his strikes into a console, sending sparks flaring up between them. “If only you were at your prime. You’ve certainly improved since the last time we crossed blades.”
Obi-Wan snaps a kick up against his jaw and almost loses her foot for her trouble, parrying aside his lightsaber at the last second. “I’ve been training for this,” she says.
“Er, sir?” one of the few remaining droids interrupts tremulously. “Two Jedi have just landed in the starboard hangar bay and –” Its voice stops abruptly as it keels slowly over, at the same time the other droids deactivate.
Obi-Wan lets herself smile. Anakin’s doing.
Dooku takes advantage of her momentary distraction to hit a control that opens a hatch in the floor. He leaps down it and Obi-Wan follows, bringing her lightsaber up just in time to block the lightning crackling off the tips of Dooku’s fingers as he twists around. They’re sliding down a long, curving escape shaft. Of course Dooku has a bolt hole. Obi-Wan had expected nothing less. He always needs to have some way to slither out.
“Qui-Gon told me you were stubborn,” he remarks, as if they’re in a training arena and not on a ship under siege. “It was one of the things he liked about you. But a Jedi needs to know when to let go.”
“Oh, something the Sith excel at, I’m sure,” Obi-Wan shoots back. She sees light up ahead: the end of the shaft.
Dooku hits the floor with both feet; Obi-Wan turns her descent into a mid-air roll, snapping her lightsaber downwards and having it deflected. She lands behind Dooku, taking in their location quickly. Portside hangar bay; she can see Dooku’s solar sailer sloop waiting for him, alongside several deactivated battle droids and three unfortunately active magnaguards. Upon seeing Obi-Wan, these activate their electrostaffs and start towards her.
She shoves them backwards with the Force, whirling into an attack on Dooku. He blocks every blow, sneering at her from behind the clashing red blades.
“You’re weak, Kenobi!” he says. “And weakening with every minute that passes. Give up – give in – and join me.”
“Never!” She knocks his lightsaber aside, snapping a kick up into his jaw as she slides inside his guard, starting to reach for the syringe in her pocket until a blast of Force energy knocks her backwards, Skorr’s lightsaber flying out of her hand and deactivating when it hits the deck. Obi-Wan throws herself into a series of desperate backflips to avoid a barrage of blasterfire from a newly arrived pair of droidekas that apparently hadn’t been hooked into the same central command as the others.
Obi-Wan knows that it had been a mistake as soon as she does it, feeling the new skin over the blaster wounds on her stomach stretch and tear. She lands in a graceless sprawl on the floor near the magnaguards, which are stumbling upright, electrostaffs whirling by her head. She rolls aside to avoid an electrostaff that jabs down at her, grabbing for the handle as she shoves the droid backwards with the Force and pulls the staff towards her, flipping to her feet and whirling the staff between her hands. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she can see Dooku beating a hasty retreat to his ship and grabs for the Force, using it to toss two of the magnaguards into their master. Dooku goes sprawling, the droids on top of him before he shoves them aside. Obi-Wan slams the electrostaff into the vulnerable chest of the remaining magnaguard, sending it into convulsions that shake its entire body, then flips the electrostaff around to knock it to its knees, using the Force to burn out its wiring and leave it a useless pile of scrap metal on the floor.
The droidekas are moving again, shields down as they roll towards her. Obi-Wan reaches out with her free hand and calls Skorr’s lightsaber into it. She can feel the first tremors of exhaustion settling in, the aftereffects of pushing herself too hard and too fast when she’s still healing, recovering from the kind of trance that takes energy away instead of restoring it. The throbbing pain on her torso where her wounds have broken open don’t help. She knows she won’t last much longer; so does Dooku.
She tosses the electrostaff aside, settling into position with both hands on the hilt of her lightsaber. “Aren’t you going to run away again, Count?”
“What a Sith you’ll make, Master Kenobi,” Dooku says, admiring. He tips his head at his remaining magnaguards, the ones that Obi-Wan had thrown at him. “Bring her alive.”
The only relief that offers is that it means it will keep him here for a few more minutes. Obi-Wan licks her lips, tasting her own blood where she must have cut herself on her teeth, and challenges, “Come and get me yourself, Dooku.”
A flicker of movement in the observatory platform above and a tremor in the Force warns her in the instant before the window explodes outwards with a terrific crash, shards of transparisteel raining down around them as Anakin vaults down, landing in a three-point crouch with his lightsaber held out in one hand. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to hit girls?” he quips, rising smoothly. He unclips Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his belt and tosses it to her. She catches it and ignites it, a lightsaber in each hand now.
“So the apprentice comes running to his master,” Dooku says. He flicks his fingers at the battle droids, turning away and starting up the gangway to his ship. “Another time, Obi-Wan.”
“Can you take care of this?” Obi-Wan demands of Anakin, dragging up the last dregs of her strength.
“Yes –”
“Catch!” She tosses Skorr’s lightsaber at him and leaps – clean, beautiful. Qui-Gon would be proud.
Dooku meets her lightsaber thrust with one of his own, turning on the ramp to catch her in midair with the Force. Obi-Wan gags and chokes, fumbling her free hand into her pocket as her lightsaber deactivates. It hits the deck with a clunk, the sound almost lost in the ear-piercing screech of two Jedi starfighters and a gunship skidding into the hangar.
Dooku glances at them, irritation briefly creasing his features before he throws Obi-Wan sideways through the hatch. She lands on her back and flips herself onto her feet again, launching herself gracelessly at Dooku and tackling him back down the ramp.
“Obi-Wan!” she hears Anakin scream.
“Not wise, Master Kenobi,” Dooku says, punching her in the face.
Obi-Wan slams the hypodermic needle into his neck and depresses the plunger. “You forgot wisdom when you left the Order, Dooku!”
Dooku goes white as the drug takes hold of him, but the shock only stalls him for a moment. He throws Obi-Wan off him, sending her tumbling into Anakin as Aayla Secura and Kit Fisto circle Dooku, their lightsabers extended, followed by a dozen clone troopers.
“Count Dooku, you are under arrest,” says Kit as several clones drag Dooku up, slapping binders onto his wrists. “Put him in a holding cell until we can transport him back to the cruiser.” He grins at Obi-Wan and Anakin as Aayla comes over to help them up. “Good job, you two. Hey, get a medic over here for General Kenobi!”
“Masters Vos, Gallia, and Tholme are securing the rest of the ship,” Anakin reports, helping Obi-Wan to a seat on the ramp.
Aayla holds Obi-Wan’s lightsaber out to her. “Are you all right, Master Kenobi?”
“Better now,” Obi-Wan says, taking it. “What took you all so long?” she adds, and grins.
*
tbc
read chapter 7.
Content advisory for dubcon in a dream sequence, language, and violence.
Obi-Wan is kissing Anakin.
He has one hand fisted tightly in her hair, the other curved around her waist, with his mouth open and eager against hers. Obi-Wan slides her tongue against his, their teeth clashing briefly together before she adjusts the angle, her head tipped back to accommodate Anakin’s height. His padawan braid tickles her shoulder and she curls her hand around it, possessive.
He grins against her mouth. “I love you.”
“I know,” Obi-Wan says, shuddering as he moves his mouth to her neck, his fingers pressing shyly against the strip of skin between her trousers and her loose undershirt. She feels the question in the Force and murmurs back assent, helping Anakin get her shirt off.
He’s seen her naked or nearly naked a thousand times before, so there’s nothing new to see, except that this time he’s looking at her with intent, sliding his fingers curiously up her abdomen to the underside of her breasts. His hands are a lot bigger than Obi-Wan remembers them being from hand-to-hand sparring practice, spanning the small of her back easily. He dips his mouth to her collarbone and licks it, decisively, making Obi-Wan laugh. Anakin gives her a hurt look and Obi-Wan uses her grip on his braid to tilt his head up for another biting kiss, light and teasing.
He’s lost his own shirt somewhere along the way. Obi-Wan takes advantage of this to run her hands up the expanse of tanned skin, feeling the muscle underneath, a few scars from blaster shots and glancing lightsaber blows. Anakin shivers beneath her touch, letting Obi-Wan push him down onto the bed and lean down to kiss him again, her hair falling in a red veil on either side of them, closing them off from the rest of the world. His hands settle comfortably on her waist, steady and familiar, the one flesh and the other body-warm durasteel. Obi-Wan smiles and kisses him again, insistent, their bodies pressed together as their still-clothed legs tangle, the sheets rumpling beneath them.
She closes her eyes, Anakin rolling them over with his hands closing decisively on her wrists. He nuzzles her neck, her shoulder, her breasts, his beard scratching a little at the soft skin, and she makes a soft sound of bemused protest, trying to get her hands free. His grip tightens, pressing her down against the bed, and moves his mouth up against hers again, his tongue plunging in demandingly. Obi-Wan shudders, her hips moving up against his.
It’s the lightsaber calluses – or lack thereof, rather – that tell her something is wrong, not the beard. Anakin’s right hand is durasteel; he shouldn’t have calluses there. Obi-Wan opens her eyes.
Dooku, not Anakin, is pinning her to the bed, kissing her deeply. Obi-Wan panics – wants to panic, wants to push him away and call her lightsaber into her hand, but while her mind is teetering on the edge of hysteria her body is responding to Dooku’s caresses. She hears herself moan as he frees her hands, reaching down to remove her brassiere, helping him get her trousers off. Some distant part of her mind notes that they’re black, rather than her usual off-white. Her discarded shirt is black as well.
Dooku kisses his way down her body, lingering at her now-bare breasts without any of Anakin’s shy hesitation. Obi-Wan’s hands fold themselves into his hair, encouraging him as he presses kisses against her belly, hooking his fingers into her underwear. While Obi-Wan’s mind screams terrified protest, her hips are arching themselves off so that he can peel her underwear off. His beard scratches against her skin as he presses a kiss to her thigh, against the scar he’d made at the Battle of Geonosis. She fists her hands in the sheets, her head falling back, and when she looks up again it’s not Dooku kneeling between her thighs, but Darth Maul, his teeth bared in a grin beneath his red and black features.
Obi-Wan screams.
She fights her way up out of a tangle of sheets, the remnants of the scream still trembling on her lips as Anakin throws himself out of his own bed and towards her. “Master, what is it? Are you all right?”
She scrubs her hands furiously across her mouth, across her clothed thighs, and finally forces them to shuddering stillness. “I’m fine,” she manages.
Anakin’s hands hover worriedly over her. “You haven’t done that in years,” he says finally.
For years after Qui-Gon had died, Obi-Wan had had nightmares about the duel in Theed. She knows she should have exorcised Maul’s ghost when she killed him, but he’d haunted her dreams anyway, a thousand ways the duel could have gone – better, worse, the same, over and over again. She’d thought that they had finally passed.
She twists her single long braid around her wrist, remembering how the dream had begun and not wanting to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan says, glancing up as the door slides open. “It was only a nightmare.”
“Your nightmare’s just beginning, Kenobi,” Tol Skorr announces, standing aside as Dooku comes in, followed by Quinlan Vos.
Obi-Wan and Anakin turn towards them, Obi-Wan calling the syringe into her hand and slipping it quickly into her pocket. She doesn’t think any of the others notice, and covers the movement by reaching down to pull her boots on.
“What do you want?” Anakin demands, shifting into a defensive position.
Dooku ignores him. “General Fisto’s fleet has been in orbit around Dac for two weeks now,” he announces. “Several hours ago his fleet went into hyperspace and vanished. General Choi’s fleet was diverted en route to Poltara and has also vanished. Where are they, General Kenobi?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says calmly, even though her heart leaps at the words. “I’ve been here for the past several days; it’s possible that new intelligence came in that I haven’t been privy to as your prisoner.”
“Where are Kit Fisto and Tsui Choi, General?”
“I don’t know,” she repeats.
“Aayla Secura, Adi Gallia, Sian Jeisel, and Stass Allie have also left their commands, apparently at the order of the Jedi Council,” Dooku goes on. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says decisively. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I am wondering about your sources, though.”
Dooku tips his head towards Skorr. “Time’s up, General Kenobi. Take them both down to interrogation.”
Skorr grins, showing his teeth. “With pleasure, Master.”
He jerks Obi-Wan to her feet, pulling her arms around behind her back to cuff them. Quinlan does the same with Anakin, and the two of them are propelled out into the hallway, where an escort of battle droids and two magnaguards are waiting.
Dooku follows them down the corridor to an elevator. “You can still save your padawan, Master Kenobi. Tell me what you know of the Republic’s plans.”
“No.”
“What about you, Skywalker?”
“No,” Anakin says flatly.
“I see we’ll have to use an alternative means of persuasion,” Dooku remarks as they wait for the elevator.
“You won’t get anything out of us, Dooku,” Anakin snaps. “We’re Jedi. We’re trained to resist torture.”
“That will just make this more fun,” Skorr sneers.
Quinlan, Obi-Wan notices, doesn’t say anything at all. His face is completely expressionless, and Obi-Wan wonders if he even has an opinion on the subject. If Aayla’s with the fleet that she’s sure has been sent to intercept them, then she’ll be able to reach him. Aayla Secura had been Quinlan’s Padawan; they’re as close as any former Master and Padawan that Obi-Wan knows, and closer than most.
The elevator dings open, a rather incongruous sound in the midst of a warship, and the droids steer Anakin and Obi-Wan inside, followed by Vos, Skorr, and Dooku. It’s a tight fit; Obi-Wan might have tried to go for Skorr’s lightsaber if Dooku hadn’t been there, but two against three plus the droids aren’t good odds, even for Jedi. Even for her and Anakin.
She watches the elevator tick downwards, Anakin restless and tense at her shoulder. She can feel the Force gathered close around her, hopes that it’s tucked carefully enough beneath her skin that Dooku or the others don’t notice anything amiss. The syringe, with the capped hypodermic needle attached, is a light weight in her pocket; Obi-Wan is waiting for the Force to tell her when to use it. She’d helped Anakin purge the drug from his system last night after the med droid had left, both of them in trance so he could use the little bit of the Force still left to him to free the remainder of it. For all that he’s mad and a little reckless – all right, extremely reckless – Anakin has more combat skill than Knights twice his age, and Obi-Wan is certain that she and he together are perfectly capable of taking on Vos and Skorr, with or without their lightsabers. Dooku – well, to go up against Dooku, they’re going to want lightsabers.
Eventually the elevator deposits them into a corridor that looks exactly the same as the one they’d just left. They’re steered right, the droids in formation around them and Skorr leading the way, Vos striding alongside Obi-Wan and Dooku following them, his gaze hard on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, sharp with the Force.
They’ve been walking for five minutes when the entire ship shakes and Dooku’s comlink makes an urgent sound. He flicks it on and barks, “Why have we just left hyperspace? We’re still hours away from Serenno!” before the droid on the other end can get more than a few syllables out.
“Sir, a Republic fleet has just intercepted us!” the droid says. “We were forced out of hyperspace to avoid a collision. They’ve left hyperspace as well and are now moving to surround us. Orders, sir?”
Dooku turns on Obi-Wan. “How did you do this?” he demands.
Obi-Wan just smiles. “I think I’ve found Kit Fisto and his fleet for you.”
For a heartbeat, she thinks he’s going to strike her. Force lightning glitters at his fingertips; Obi-Wan draws in her breath, trying to prepare herself to absorb it if she has to, but instead Dooku drops his hand and strides away, calling over his shoulder, “Secure these two and meet me on the bridge.”
“Yes, Master,” Skorr says. To the droids, he says, “You heard him, get moving.”
They start walking again. Anakin says, “You know that the Jedi are coming for us.”
“Shut up, Skywalker,” he snaps.
“They’re coming, and when they get here you’re going to be arrested and tried for high treason, which trust me, you’re not going to enjoy,” Anakin says, getting into the swing of things. “You used to be a Jedi, so you’ll be tried by the Jedi Council for crimes against civilization. We don’t deal too kindly on that these days. You probably think the Jedi are weak, so it might not seem like much of a threat, but –”
“Shut up, Skywalker!” Skorr says, whirling on him and raising his hand to strike.
“Stop it!” Quinlan says, grabbing his wrist. “The Count said to take them to holding, so that’s what we’ll do. We –”
The comms system in the ship crackles. All of them, droids included, look up as a familiar voice came over the intercom. “This is Jedi General Kit Fisto. We have you surrounded. You are ordered to immediately surrender and prepare to be boarded. Release the prisoners General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Anakin Skywalker.”
Anakin is kept from snapping, “Ha!” in Skorr’s face only by Obi-Wan nudging him with the Force. She turns her attention on the Dark Jedi and says, “Release us and I’ll speak for you before the Council of Reconciliation.”
He sneers at her. “No.”
“You heard General Fisto: the Republic has this ship surrounded. You won’t be able to make a break for hyperspace. You were a Jedi once, Skorr. You know what it’s like to touch serenity. You can still come back from the Dark Side, I can sense it. You –”
“Keep walking, Kenobi.” He unhooks his lightsaber from his belt. “Dooku said he wanted you alive, but he didn’t say anything about being in one piece.”
The droids titter uncertainly, looking around for orders. Quin tries to push Skorr’s arm away. “This isn’t the time –”
“Quin,” Obi-Wan says, “we’ve always been friends. You don’t have to follow Dooku. You’re still a Jedi. You can come back.”
“Don’t listen to the bitch, Vos,” Skorr snaps, igniting his lightsaber. “¬If you fall for that you’re as weak as I always thought you were.”
Quinlan glances at him, taking his lightsaber off his belt. “Skorr –”
“I felt it inside you yesterday, Quin,” Obi-Wan says, talking quickly to cover the sound of Skorr’s rebuttals. “You don’t have to follow Dooku. You have to follow the path he’s chosen. The Dark Side of the Force does not rule you. I don’t know why you joined the Confederacy, but it can’t be worth your soul. No one will make you fight for the Republic, Quin, just don’t do this for Dooku. Think about what you’re being asked to do – torture a Jedi, torture a Padawan; you are not that man, Quin. I know you, and I know there is no evil in your spirit –”
His lightsaber moves blindingly fast, a figure-eight of flashing red that burns across Obi-Wan’s vision even after her binders have fallen off her wrists. Skorr shouts in rage, but she’s already moving, her heel snapping up against his chin and sending him into a backflip as droids scatter. Quin and Anakin, his binders cut, are moving amongst them, leaving scrap metal in their wake.
Obi-Wan ducks Skorr’s swing, kicking aside his saber arm and angling a punch against his jaw. He blocks it, his lightsaber swinging back towards her, and Obi-Wan flings herself backwards, turning head over heels in midair and landing flat-footed, her fists up in preparation. Skorr swings his lightsaber around, striding towards her, and Obi-Wan launches herself off the floor, bouncing sideways off the wall to slam her right foot against his jaw, sending him sprawling sideways briefly before he recovers himself. Obi-Wan bounces back to her feet, already moving upwards with another kick that slides in past his guard, and shoves him back a step before he recovers. He shouts and thrusts at her. Instinct makes Obi-Wan throw her hand out, the Force sending him sprawling backwards amongst the droid parts as Anakin batters a battle droid to scrap with his bare hands and Quin duels with a magnaguard. Skorr flips back on his feet, face twisted in hatred as he advances again, his free hand raising and closing into a fist.
The Force lifts her up off her feet, toes barely skimming the floor as Obi-Wan scrabbles a hand at her throat, struggling to breathe past the grasp of the Force around her. She flings her hand out, which makes the grasp loosen as Skorr puts his energy towards blocking her. Both their palms flatten in thin air, the Force struggling between them and bowing out the walls on either side of them. Skorr’s lightsaber deactivates, unnecessary at the moment. Obi-Wan is stronger in the Force than he is naturally, but he has the Dark Side.
Obi-Wan has serenity, and she reaches for it, lets the Force flow through her as she reaches out again, closes her fist, and twists. Skorr shouts and collapses, the pressure between them gone.
“You bitch!” he shouts as Obi-Wan approaches, his voice echoing through the long metal corridor. Neither his hands nor his legs move, unprotesting as she stretches her hand out and calls his lightsaber to her. “So you do have a Dark Side ¬–”
Anakin shoots the last battle droid in the head with a stolen blaster just as Quin slices the second magnaguard in two. “What did you do?” Anakin demands, looking down at Skorr.
“I broke his spine,” Obi-Wan says, and spares a fleeting worry for how close that is to what Darksiders do. “He’ll live to face trial, but he’ll never hold a lightsaber again.”
“You Jedi witch!”
Anakin kneels down and presses a finger to his forehead. “Sleep,” he orders, the Force behind it. Skorr’s eyes close immediately.
“How did you know I’d help you?” Quin asks, deactivating his lightsaber.
Obi-Wan smiles at him. “I suppose I just had faith,” she says.
She glances around at the wreckage in the hallway. “Kit and the others are on their way,” she says unnecessarily. “Quin, go secure the hangar bays for them, see if you can get on the comm to Master Fisto or Master Secura and let them know the situation. Anakin, find the droid control chamber and deactivate the battle droids and vulture droids. Try and find our lightsabers.”
“I think being a general has gone to your head,” Quin says lightly.
“Where are you going?” Anakin demands, more urgently.
Obi-Wan raises Skorr’s lightsaber. It’s bigger and a little heavier than hers is, designed for a man’s hands, but none of that really matters; she’s trained with Anakin’s lightsaber before and it had been Qui-Gon’s that she had used to kill Maul. It’s far better than no lightsaber at all.
“I’m going after Dooku,” she says.
*
Anakin, who after nearly twelve years as her padawan still lacks a certain amount of respect for her position as his master, tells her that she’s insane, she can’t possibly mean to go after Dooku on her own. Then he adds something about Asajj Ventress.
“Ventress left,” Quinlan informs them, swinging his lightsaber hilt idly in his hand as they walk back towards the elevator. “Dooku sent her after some weapons manufacturer on Geonosis.”
“You don’t have a lightsaber,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin.
“I can take –”
Quin’s hand closes decisively on his lightsaber. “No, you can’t. Obi-Wan, your Padawan is right –”
“All I’m going to do is keep him from running long enough for Kit and the others to get here and arrest him,” Obi-Wan says. “Which will be easier if we stop delaying!” She jabs impatiently at the elevator controls.
“The last time you dueled with Dooku he would have killed you if I wasn’t there!” Anakin tries again.
The elevator arrives and the three of them step inside, Anakin’s hand closing on Obi-Wan’s sleeve as Quin hits the controls. “Let me come with you,” he orders. “You need me.”
“I need you to disable the vulture droids so that the boarding party can land,” Obi-Wan says, all too aware of Quinlan’s curious gaze on them as the elevator shoots upwards. “We don’t have much time. The fleet will –”
The starship shudders as a hit makes it through the shields.
“– will try and disable the hyperdrive, but they don’t want to destroy the ship unless they have to, not with three Jedi and Count Dooku onboard. So you have to make sure the boarding party can make it through,” Obi-Wan finishes, putting her hand against the wall to catch her balance as the ship shakes again.
“Master Vos can do that,” Anakin argues. “You’re still hurt.”
“And you don’t have a lightsaber,” Obi-Wan snaps.
“I’ve got a blaster,” he says, hefting it.
“You know, you two argued a whole lot less when we were out on the Rim together before the war,” Quinlan observes.
“I like to pretend my padawan respected me then,” Obi-Wan grumbles, glancing at the elevator controls.
“I respect you!” Anakin protests. He sets his mouth stubbornly and his voice goes soft as he adds, “The last time I let you out of my sight during a battle I spent three weeks thinking you were dead and you spent three weeks chained to Asajj Ventress’s ceiling. And I can’t – I can’t do that again.”
Obi-Wan really wishes that Quinlan was anywhere else in the galaxy right now. She’s saved from Anakin making another declaration of undying passion – in front of a witness who’s perfectly capable of testifying in front of the Jedi Council this time – by the elevator coming to a stop, the door sliding open. Obi-Wan launches herself out of it and uses the Force to close the doors before Anakin can follow her.
And just like that, she’s alone on Count Dooku’s battle cruiser.
Skorr’s lightsaber hilt is warm against her palm. Obi-Wan grips it tightly, closing her eyes and reaching out with the Force to find Dooku. There are droids between them – battle droids, coming towards her. Obi-Wan doesn’t know if they’ve been sent to recapture her or not; doesn’t particularly care. She ignites Skorr’s lightsaber, the red blade sending strange shadows sliding across the floor in front of her, and steps out into the corridor.
“There she is!” cries a battle droid. “Set for stun and shoot her!”
Obi-Wan deflects the bolts easily. Deflected stun blasts don’t have any effect on droids, unfortunately, but that doesn’t matter; Obi-Wan throws the lightsaber and tosses herself into a backflip, blaster bolts skimming beneath her until she lands back on her feet, the hilt of Skorr’s lightsaber thudding solidly back into her palm. Six battle droids collapse in disassembled parts on the floor; the seventh squawks in alarm and takes off down the hallway, Obi-Wan in hot pursuit. She slices it in two before it’s gone more than three steps, kicking the parts out of her way
The door to the bridge is just beyond it. Obi-Wan flicks her fingers at it hopefully, but the blast doors are down and the Force won’t do anything against that without more energy than she really cares to expend. Instead she stops, reaching for the Force, and thrusts her lightsaber into the door up to the hilt. She can feel the heat shearing off it as she slowly carves a hole in the blast doors, using the Force to help the resistance of the triple layers of durasteel. If Dooku had ever considered that the Jedi might get this close to him, he would have added cortosis in. Obi-Wan is glad he hadn’t.
Hole cut, she stands back and shoves with the Force, sending the sheared-off section spinning across the bridge. Droids shout and scatter in its wake and Dooku turns around slowly, calling his lightsaber into his hand.
“Very impressive, Master Kenobi,” he observes.
Obi-Wan points the lightsaber at him. “Count Dooku, you’re under arrest in the name of the Jedi Council and the Galactic Republic for high treason and crimes against civilization.” She doesn’t pause as she slices a magnaguard’s head off, kicking a battle droid out of the way, and using the Force to fling two more against a wall, stunning them. “Will you come peacefully?”
Outside the transparisteel windows Obi-Wan can see Republic ships ringing the cruiser, the flashes of blasterfire as starfighters clash with vulture droids. She glances at the battle once, then turns her attention back to Dooku as she slices her way through two more magnaguards, knocking aside their electrostaffs and kicking one out of the way.
Dooku ignites his lightsaber. “Dare I ask what you’ve done with Skorr? I take it he’s no longer among the living.”
Obi-Wan brings Skorr’s lightsaber up into the opening position for her favored lightsaber form of Soresu – blade held back in one hand, non-dominant hand out so that she can channel the Force through it. “Oh, he’s alive,” she says. “He’s just not very happy.”
“Uh, orders, sir?” one of the remaining droids inquires timidly, cowering behind a control.
“Get us into hyperspace,” Dooku snaps, not looking at it. He and Obi-Wan move towards each other, stepping over droid parts. “You cannot defeat me, Master Kenobi. We’ve ascertained this.”
“I don’t need to defeat you,” Obi-Wan say, letting herself smile, a small, savage expression. Anakin would appreciate it. Qui-Gon wouldn’t have. “I just need to keep you occupied until the rest of the Jedi get here.”
“Do you,” Dooku says. “And I suppose the Jedi Council doesn’t care about the second Sith Lord?”
“It’s Supreme Chancellor Palpatine,” Obi-Wan says. “Isn’t it?”
He blinks once, slow. “You’re not as dull as I thought, Master Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan just feels cold. She knows her history; few Sith Lords are content to watch and wait and manipulate from the sidelines the way that Palpatine has done. She has to get back to Coruscant so that they can warn the Council and remove him from power as quietly as possible.
But first she has to do this.
She feels the shift in the Force, the faint tremor along her skin, and isn’t taken by surprise as Dooku uses the Force to fling the remnants of three battle droids at her; Obi-Wan throws them back at him and uses the momentary confusion this causes – the remaining droids still in a state of some panic – to launch herself up into a smooth flip that covers the distance between them. Dooku’s lightsaber arcs up to meet hers as she touches down, plasma hissing close enough that it singes the bottom of Obi-Wan’s braid as she whirls round, snapping a kick against his knee that momentarily unbalances him before he counters her. Lightsabers crackle as Dooku slowly, inexorably herds her the way he wants them both to go.
Obi-Wan is younger and faster, but Dooku has height and reach on her – not usually a problem when Obi-Wan has spent her entire life training with men bigger and stronger than she is, first with Qui-Gon, then with Anakin, but a definite disadvantage when she’s wounded and tiring more quickly than usual. Worse, Dooku knows it.
“You are a worthy opponent, Master Kenobi,” he observes, sounding approving as Obi-Wan parries one of his strikes into a console, sending sparks flaring up between them. “If only you were at your prime. You’ve certainly improved since the last time we crossed blades.”
Obi-Wan snaps a kick up against his jaw and almost loses her foot for her trouble, parrying aside his lightsaber at the last second. “I’ve been training for this,” she says.
“Er, sir?” one of the few remaining droids interrupts tremulously. “Two Jedi have just landed in the starboard hangar bay and –” Its voice stops abruptly as it keels slowly over, at the same time the other droids deactivate.
Obi-Wan lets herself smile. Anakin’s doing.
Dooku takes advantage of her momentary distraction to hit a control that opens a hatch in the floor. He leaps down it and Obi-Wan follows, bringing her lightsaber up just in time to block the lightning crackling off the tips of Dooku’s fingers as he twists around. They’re sliding down a long, curving escape shaft. Of course Dooku has a bolt hole. Obi-Wan had expected nothing less. He always needs to have some way to slither out.
“Qui-Gon told me you were stubborn,” he remarks, as if they’re in a training arena and not on a ship under siege. “It was one of the things he liked about you. But a Jedi needs to know when to let go.”
“Oh, something the Sith excel at, I’m sure,” Obi-Wan shoots back. She sees light up ahead: the end of the shaft.
Dooku hits the floor with both feet; Obi-Wan turns her descent into a mid-air roll, snapping her lightsaber downwards and having it deflected. She lands behind Dooku, taking in their location quickly. Portside hangar bay; she can see Dooku’s solar sailer sloop waiting for him, alongside several deactivated battle droids and three unfortunately active magnaguards. Upon seeing Obi-Wan, these activate their electrostaffs and start towards her.
She shoves them backwards with the Force, whirling into an attack on Dooku. He blocks every blow, sneering at her from behind the clashing red blades.
“You’re weak, Kenobi!” he says. “And weakening with every minute that passes. Give up – give in – and join me.”
“Never!” She knocks his lightsaber aside, snapping a kick up into his jaw as she slides inside his guard, starting to reach for the syringe in her pocket until a blast of Force energy knocks her backwards, Skorr’s lightsaber flying out of her hand and deactivating when it hits the deck. Obi-Wan throws herself into a series of desperate backflips to avoid a barrage of blasterfire from a newly arrived pair of droidekas that apparently hadn’t been hooked into the same central command as the others.
Obi-Wan knows that it had been a mistake as soon as she does it, feeling the new skin over the blaster wounds on her stomach stretch and tear. She lands in a graceless sprawl on the floor near the magnaguards, which are stumbling upright, electrostaffs whirling by her head. She rolls aside to avoid an electrostaff that jabs down at her, grabbing for the handle as she shoves the droid backwards with the Force and pulls the staff towards her, flipping to her feet and whirling the staff between her hands. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she can see Dooku beating a hasty retreat to his ship and grabs for the Force, using it to toss two of the magnaguards into their master. Dooku goes sprawling, the droids on top of him before he shoves them aside. Obi-Wan slams the electrostaff into the vulnerable chest of the remaining magnaguard, sending it into convulsions that shake its entire body, then flips the electrostaff around to knock it to its knees, using the Force to burn out its wiring and leave it a useless pile of scrap metal on the floor.
The droidekas are moving again, shields down as they roll towards her. Obi-Wan reaches out with her free hand and calls Skorr’s lightsaber into it. She can feel the first tremors of exhaustion settling in, the aftereffects of pushing herself too hard and too fast when she’s still healing, recovering from the kind of trance that takes energy away instead of restoring it. The throbbing pain on her torso where her wounds have broken open don’t help. She knows she won’t last much longer; so does Dooku.
She tosses the electrostaff aside, settling into position with both hands on the hilt of her lightsaber. “Aren’t you going to run away again, Count?”
“What a Sith you’ll make, Master Kenobi,” Dooku says, admiring. He tips his head at his remaining magnaguards, the ones that Obi-Wan had thrown at him. “Bring her alive.”
The only relief that offers is that it means it will keep him here for a few more minutes. Obi-Wan licks her lips, tasting her own blood where she must have cut herself on her teeth, and challenges, “Come and get me yourself, Dooku.”
A flicker of movement in the observatory platform above and a tremor in the Force warns her in the instant before the window explodes outwards with a terrific crash, shards of transparisteel raining down around them as Anakin vaults down, landing in a three-point crouch with his lightsaber held out in one hand. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to hit girls?” he quips, rising smoothly. He unclips Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his belt and tosses it to her. She catches it and ignites it, a lightsaber in each hand now.
“So the apprentice comes running to his master,” Dooku says. He flicks his fingers at the battle droids, turning away and starting up the gangway to his ship. “Another time, Obi-Wan.”
“Can you take care of this?” Obi-Wan demands of Anakin, dragging up the last dregs of her strength.
“Yes –”
“Catch!” She tosses Skorr’s lightsaber at him and leaps – clean, beautiful. Qui-Gon would be proud.
Dooku meets her lightsaber thrust with one of his own, turning on the ramp to catch her in midair with the Force. Obi-Wan gags and chokes, fumbling her free hand into her pocket as her lightsaber deactivates. It hits the deck with a clunk, the sound almost lost in the ear-piercing screech of two Jedi starfighters and a gunship skidding into the hangar.
Dooku glances at them, irritation briefly creasing his features before he throws Obi-Wan sideways through the hatch. She lands on her back and flips herself onto her feet again, launching herself gracelessly at Dooku and tackling him back down the ramp.
“Obi-Wan!” she hears Anakin scream.
“Not wise, Master Kenobi,” Dooku says, punching her in the face.
Obi-Wan slams the hypodermic needle into his neck and depresses the plunger. “You forgot wisdom when you left the Order, Dooku!”
Dooku goes white as the drug takes hold of him, but the shock only stalls him for a moment. He throws Obi-Wan off him, sending her tumbling into Anakin as Aayla Secura and Kit Fisto circle Dooku, their lightsabers extended, followed by a dozen clone troopers.
“Count Dooku, you are under arrest,” says Kit as several clones drag Dooku up, slapping binders onto his wrists. “Put him in a holding cell until we can transport him back to the cruiser.” He grins at Obi-Wan and Anakin as Aayla comes over to help them up. “Good job, you two. Hey, get a medic over here for General Kenobi!”
“Masters Vos, Gallia, and Tholme are securing the rest of the ship,” Anakin reports, helping Obi-Wan to a seat on the ramp.
Aayla holds Obi-Wan’s lightsaber out to her. “Are you all right, Master Kenobi?”
“Better now,” Obi-Wan says, taking it. “What took you all so long?” she adds, and grins.
*
tbc
read chapter 7.