A raging cough overtook his weary body, doubling over as he held onto the door frame. His musty ginger hair stuck to his skin with sweat, and his once nice tunic now ruined with years of sand pelting it. With a little heave of a sigh, he finally stands straight, overlooking the dunes with a tired look.
The setting sun’s of Tatooine are almost gone, glinting off the sands as he takes in the little bit of beauty that he can appreciate from this planet. He turns though, back into his old hovel, and shuffles over to his small pad on the floor, he sits with his legs crossed and his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.
Each muscle starts to loosen, minute after minute as he waits for the accursed peace that’s been avoiding him ever since he’d gotten here. His slight frown deepens with each of those passing minute’s, his frustration with himself getting worse at his inability to do this.
“Come on Kenobi,” He mutters to himself, sitting straighter, and taking another long deep breath, taking the stale air into his lungs.
A flash of heat hit’s him, the smell of sulphur and burning, a river of lava flowing. He pushes deeper, he needs to get past this, if for nothing else then the little boy that he would train one day.
Determined he shuts his eye’s tighter and tries to let those memories go, if only for a brief moment. After another moment of deafening silence, he feels the world go still, gravity pulling on him harder, and a haunting voice plaguing him.
“I hate you!” He hears, screaming in his ears, echoing in his head. A gasp escapes him, a panic settling over him as he goes back into his most painful memory.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes slowly opening as he comes back to his reality, the consequence of his failings. With another disappointed sigh, he stands back up. For a moment, he simply stands there, looking down at the floor, trying to let his feelings back into the ever present force.
With another shake of his head though, he stalks off, still feeling the pain of betrayal. He walks over to his small kitchen, and prepares his usual tea, one of the only types to actually be on this forsaken planet, Joonwa, a creation made by the Tuscan’s for its medicinal properties.
“It’s used after there sparring sessions I believe, though that’s only a rumor of course, no one’s been able to see one of…” He fades off, realizing again, that no ones there to hear him, there’s no one left to teach.
He looks around at his hut, before staring back down at his hands, which he realizes are shaking. Gently putting the cup down, he reaches up and gently wipes his cheek, and finds that he’s crying. His eyes become hazy as he lets out a breath, a tiny gasp of pain to accompany it as the memories come back.
“I loved you,” the past yells at him, a shudder rocks through him.
“The boy is dangerous,” another violent shake rattles through him, unable to hold back his tears now as he stands there.
“You can kill me, but you will never destroy me,”
“I gave Qui Gon my word,” The memories now bringing him too painful sobs as his fists clench.
“Goodbye old friend,”
“No more, please, I-I can’t take this, p-please,” he whispers to himself, feeling despair in every single part of himself, the memories punishing him, each giving him a new wave of pain as he’s forced to remember all that he’d lost.
With a quiet sob, he leans forward, his back hunched over as he leans all of his weight down onto the old counter.
“I’m sorry,” he says to the empty room.
After a few more tears escape him, he takes another giant breath and straightens his back, looking over at the window, looking out into the dark planes of sand, barely holding himself together as he tries and cope with the reality that he’s made for himself.. All he can see is the past though, the thoughts surging through his head, the dark side trying to take him still, even when it had already taken everything else.
With little hesitation, he turns, determined, and strides from the table and into his room, needing escape in one of the few ways he knew how. He walks over to the old chest, and kneels in front of it, he reaches for the old metal lock, but stops. His hand hovers over it, his fears coursing through him as he thinks of all the ways this could end badly.
“I need this, just this once,” he says, quietly, with only the wind to hear. He unlocks it, opening the lid and reaching inside. His hand grasping the old metal relic, pulling it out, and holding it in front of himself, staring at a piece of his past.
“Just this once,” he repeats and stands, he walks out of his room and out of his hut, walking only a bit away, keeping his home in sight, yet far enough away that it wouldn’t distract him. He takes a breath, feeling the warm air rolling around him, the shifting sands beneath his feet, taking it in.
He closes his eyes and grasps his lightsaber with both hands, he flicks the switch, and that beautiful, familiar hum fills the air, singing with the wind as its power reverberates through him.
His eye’s open, and a rare smile comes to his face, he looks at his blade, letting the blue light of hope wash over him for a moment. He gives it a few experimental waves, and feels the ease off his old practice coming back to him.
It felt like meeting an old friend again as he settles into his old Soresu stance, the one he’d used against some of the worst that the galaxy had to offer. He stands firm, and moves his blade in an a smooth downward arch, slowly, moving through his kata the same as he had when he was a boy.
Another swing, his foot sliding forward, and a slight turn, his guard up as he moves. He spins his saber, moving faster, a grace that he hadn’t been able to use in so long coming back to him with each move he made now.
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His little smile slowly gets bigger, his form shifting from one to another, moving between his favored Soresu, to Ataruu, then Schii-cho next, blending them together into a dance that would have been studied by the old students of his home.
After what has felt like an age, he finally takes a breath and just stands still, finally allowing some of his pain to ease for just a moment. He stands there, his blade held aloft, just to his side as looks up at the three moons, his smile still there as he thinks of all the good he’s done with his blade, what he’ll be able to teach one last student later in his life.
That fades though when he looks back down, looking at the horizon of the desert, and see’s a glint of something, just for a moment. His eyes widen marginally, and his thumb immediately flicks the switch to turn his saber off. The familiar snap hiss not being of any comfort as he runs to a large dune, getting on top of it and pulling out his macro binoculars, he zooms into the distance.
He looks through and try as he might, he can’t find anything, nothing but the same course and rough sand, nothing but the moon lights normal glow bathing the sea of sand. With a sigh, he puts his hands down and sits, leaning back agains the sand as he looks once more up at the stars, shaking his head.
“I really am an old fool,” He says with certainty, the warm air running through his hair as he gives another sigh of frustration.
“Master, I…” He can barely get the words out, his words stuck in his throat. His grief coming back to haunt him once more, the same hopeless feeling of loss, his constant and only companion in his last assignment.
“Master, I c-can’t do this, I-I haven’t, I-I don’t,” He gasps out, tears once more threatening to fall. He wants nothing more than to be nothing as he lay there, staying silent, knowing the words he needs to say won’t come because he knows he’ll never get a response.
He lays their thinking about nothing, just feeling, letting the force flow through him, letting him feel the winding connections of this horrible planet, the prison of his own choices. As he lays there, he looks at the sky, the void of cold, and full of stars, a once beautiful image of hope that it’s now merely a taunt, he can’t help but give a bitter laugh as he looks at it. The horrible joke of his tragedies mocking him with the past.
He sits up then, slowly, covered in sand, and looks back over to his hut, his eyes widening at the sight of the same glint before, now coming from the window of his home. He stands, his feet pushing him forward as he sprints back, kicking up the sand as he goes.
As he gets the door, only a few minutes later, he slows, his hand on the hilt of his saber as he creeps around the side of the hut. He opens the old wooden door in the back and takes a step inside, not making a noise as he creeps into the room he’d seen he light coming from. He walks over to the edge of the wall and carefully peeks around, his eyes scanning everything with a practice few ever have.
After a moment, not seeing anything off what he had before, he stands, and moves over to the only other room in the building. He takes it slow and goes through the same process, carefully scanning every inch of his sparse home. Ending up with the same result, he takes a breath, allowing their force to calm him as he realizes that no one is there.
“We’re always here,” A voice says. Immediately, Obi Wan ignites his lightsaber, holding it out it a simple guard as he turns, looking for the intruder. He goes over his same scans, using his eyes and the force, searching for the potential threat.
“We’ve always been here, watching, trying to help,” A new voice says sadly. Obi Wan spins, guard moving into the familiar Soresu stance, his bad held above his head and his arm reaching out.
“Who are you?” Obi Wan questions, loudly with a scared authority. All his paranoia and fear screaming at him that Vader had finally managed to find him, that his past had come to finish its cruel joke.
“Turn around Padawan,” another voice says, filled with sadness, the same as his. He turns quickly, his breath leaving him. The dead standing before him, ethereal and glowing in the force. Standing there was Qui Qon Jinn, next to him his old friend Mace, and lastly Thal, his greatest teachers.
“W-what? W-What I-is this?” He asks, chocked with sorrow as his blade falls to his side, barely holding onto it as he stares. Qui Qon moves closer, taking slow steps as he smiles, a proud look in his eye as Obi Wan’s lightsaber falls from his hand.
“It’s a second chance,” Mace says, his arms crossed and his face still set in stone like it had been in life. Tahl moves forward, taking a step right next to Qui Qon, the same look of pride mirrored on her face.
“H-How?” Obi wan asks, a few tears coming to his eyes, not sure what he’s even asking. How they’re here, what they are, if they’re real, how he could get a second chance at anything.
“We’re here to help Obi Wan, we can, if you’ll let us,” Thal says, Mace following her and standing on the other side of Qui Qon. Obi wan looks at them, shock and confusion running through him as he chokes on his words, only one thing he really wants to say.
“I-I’m sorry, I-I’m so s-sorry, I f-failed, I-I’m so very sorry,” He cries, tears now running down his face as he the ones he’s failed come to speak to him, there words, the fact that they might not even be real, has no semblance of concern for him, he just had to say it.
They all stare at him, quiet for a moment as they take in his wrecked frame, the despair calling to them from this once man. Carefully the, Qui Qon reaches forward and lays a solid hand on his shoulder. Obi wan lets out a breath, a shake running through him as he feels his masters hand on him once again, after so long.
“You have nothing to be sorry for Obi Wan, you haven’t failed, not yet,” Qui Qon says, his deep comforting voice washing over Obi Wan. He looks up at his master, trembling.
“Wh-what do you m-mean?” He asks, his gaze never leaving them, taking in all of them, trying to remember them, their presence.
“You get a second chance Kenobi, the force is giving you a chance to move on, it’s gonna give you a chance to save us all,” Mace says quietly, a slight smile, so rare quirks at his lips.
Obi Wan looks between them all, his eyes filling with hope.
“What do you mean?” He asks simply, knowing that this still might be all in his head, or that maybe he’s dreaming.
“The force needs you Obi Wan, for one last mission,” Tahl says, excitedly, the Jedi mask breaking, looking at him with all the happiness of the galaxy. Mace nods along to her words, and Qui Qon’s grin gets bigger.
“It’s going to send you back Obi Wan, back to before your journey began, before any choice being made was out of your hands. With all your experiences of the here and now, with all your skills, and your connection to the force, you get to go back and save the ones you’ve lost.” Qui Qon says taking his hand off Obi Wan’s shoulder and taking a step back.
“If that’s what you want of course, you can say no Kenobi,” Mace tacks on. Obi wan is frozen, standing there looking between the three, before slowly, looks down at the floor.
“I can save them?” He asks almost to himself, his students, his friends, his master, everyone, the order, the Republic.
“Yes,” Qui Qon says, just as quietly.
Obi wan looks back up, taking a moment, listening to the force, hearing it sing as he looks at them.
“What would you have me do?” Obi Wan asks.
The three figures of the force each raise a hand, they reach out to him and close their eyes. Obi wan stands, his eyes following suit, shut tight as the force begins to whirl around him, wind and sand pushing against him.
After only a moment, everything stops, the force calms, the wind dies down, even the ever present Tatooine heat has left him, and when he opened his eyes, he sees her. Her cloak pulled over her head, and her beautiful blue eyes staring into him.
“Ben? Are you alright?” Satine asks.