It was almost too easy, grabbing a technician's hood, and taking a few minutes to figure out where the entrance of the mine was, which is probably where Fett is, or a cell of some kind. He’d have to check if he’s not mining, which won’t be too difficult, getting in is always the easy part.
The hard part would be getting out later, with the inevitable blaster fire raining down on him, and his hopefully new/old friend. He can’t help the little smirk that comes to his face, thinking of all the times he’d done this with Cody, with Ashoka, Anakin.
“Watch it,” A guard grunts, bumping into Ben as they walk past each other, which is promptly ignored as he walks deeper down the dark cavern, shaking his head at the past, his senses reaching out, feeling every signature he could, and trying to remember which was the bounty hunters from so long ago.
Carefully, he walks down the corridor, looking for patterns from the slavers, counting how many of them there are, how many people they have held captive, and how many are in chains. A dangerous scowl takes him, his eyes roaming over all these poor people, forced into a life of horror and pain.
What would his former Padawan think, what would he do? He’d probably free all of them, with some cockamamie scheme that involved aggressive negotiations. A tired laugh leaves him, he missed those days.
Ben turns the corner, finally seeing something promising, specialized security walking in and out of a heavy-looking door, which means that it’s either a barracks or hopefully a security room. His pace quickens, if it was a security room, then he could find Fett a lot faster.
He stops in front of the door, and with a slight wave, slides it open, revealing only two guards watching the screens, with another eating some sort of slop at a corner table. With a steady step forward, he goes over to a few bits of technology he recognizes and starts tinkering with them, his eyes on the screens, scanning them.
It took only a few moments before he finally sees his target, Fett, hitting rock with a large pick, and surrounded by other slaves. Level 6, the last level of the facility, but it shouldn’t be too long of a walk, and it should be easy with these two out of commission.
He looks at them in the corner of his eye, seeing them just lazily doing their jobs, all armed with blasters, the one eating also has a whip. All distracted, two facing the screens, the gentleman eating will have to be first then.
With a little sigh, he stands and turns to enact his plan of calmly knocking them out hopefully before they could react, but he stops. The force thrums through him for a moment, poking at him, speaking to him in a way that it never has before.
Use me, let me help, let me make it easy.
He stands there frozen, his head down as he listens, hearing the melody of the force actually speaking, so clearly. He could hear it begging him to be used, to help him, just repeating it over and over.
Amazed, he reaches out, grasping it. It sang at his touch, finally being used for something significant, being used in the service of the light. Ben touches the minds of these slavers and gently tries to coerce them into sleep, and he succeeds, but maybe too well. They all drop quickly, their bodies falling limp as they lose consciousness, all at the same time.
He looks down at his hands, then at them, he’d never been able to do that before, not so quickly, and definitely not more than one target. A slight laugh leaves him, finally getting to see a little of the power he has now. He shakes his head though, still smiling and focused, he turns to check the camera and sees that Fetts is still swinging.
He turns to head out the door, but stops again, eyeing the guard that looks to be about his build. After a second he walks over to him, ready to enact a classic plan.
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Walking down the mine, Ben readjusts his slightly too-large helmet, his blaster hooked to his belt and clanking against his thigh in quite an irritating way. Quality armor it seems is hard to come by in these times.
With a little sigh of exasperation he keeps walking down the mine, past guards and slaves all working. He watches carefully, making sure that no one is eyeing him too closely as he walks past, it would not be fun to be outed so deep into the facility.
He’s just gotten down to level 6, which means that Fett is only a few halls away, which means he’s a step closer to helping Satine. Feeling a rush of excitement, he stops, forcing himself to, taking a breath, he releases the feeling into the force, letting it leave him as he starts walking again.
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“Keep it together Kenobi,” He whispers to himself as he turns the last corner. He stops again, and looks around, counting the guards as he searches. Not a moment later, after counting about four slavers, he sees him, taking a breath as he leans on his pick.
He also can’t help but notice one of the slavers starting to walk over to Fett with a very ugly look. His legs carry him quickly, getting to him before the slaver can, and he grabs Fett’s arm, dragging him back from the wall.
“That will be the last time you slack slave,” Ben hisses, dragging Fett from the crowd of slaves. Though he of course does have some trouble when Fett grabs him in return and lands a solid knee into his stomach.
Ben gasps for air as Fett grabs him again, but is pulled off quickly by his fellow guards, Fett yelling at all of them in Mando’a. With a grunt, Ben stands straight, a hand on his stomach as a slaver pulls his whip.
Ben’s eye’s go wide with panic, and he quickly steps forward, grabbing the slaver's arm before he can finish his swing and throwing him over his shoulder and onto his back. A second later, he rolls forward and into the other slaver's legs, knocking him over.
He draws his blaster and shoots the other two guards rushing over to help their friends, breathing hard as he looks down at the other two. He waves his hand, and they both fall asleep, just barely. He clips his blaster back onto his hip and looks over at Fett, taking his helmet off a second later.
“Mand’alore,” Ben says, his hand forming a fist over his heart in the traditional greeting, before reaching a hand out to help him up. Fett just stares at his hand in contempt and shock, he stands on his own, and licks his lips, tasting a bit of blood.
“Who are you?” He asks simply, his eyes trained on Obi-Wan. Ben takes a second to swallow and says clearly, “a friend of the Duchess, I’m here to rescue you,” he looks around at all the other slaves, all of them looking at him with either defeat or hope.
“And hopefully a few more,” He says resoundingly, before looking back to Fett. “I do think that escape would be a good option,” Ben says smiling a little, gesturing to the exit behind him, their freedom. Fett glares at him hard, but he bends down and grabs a blaster and a whip off the guard.
“Perfect, all right, everybody, if you could all line up momentarily, I can get rid of those collars,” He says walking over to Fett, “May I?” He asks, not wavering from the suspicious glare until he gets a nod.
“Thank you,” Ben says before waving his over the locking mechanism, listening to the satisfaction of its opening and falling to the ground uselessly. Ben smiles at him for a moment before walking over to the next slave, taking his collar off, and then the next, and the next.
Fett walks with him as he goes, making sure that each slave is properly taken care of by this stranger, watching him, looking for clues as to who he is. Quietly watching as he does his work, helping everyone.
“Who sent you?” Fett eventually asks, his voice rough and dry as his eyes bounce between the exits, Ben, and the other slaves. Ben lets another collar drop to the floor, and patting the twilek on the shoulder, accepting his thanks before turning to Fett.
“No one, I’m a friend of the Duchess and she needs your help, so, I’ve come to collect you, and you can help her,” Ben says with a smile, making it sound very simple. Fett stares at him, his glare lessening slightly, a contemplation filling the void.
“Don’t you mean the Duke?” He asks quietly, his hands tightening over his weapons, trying to find a sense of safety with them. Ben shakes his head, sensing his fear, his uneasiness, so different from the man he’ll be.
“Satine’s father died about a year ago, she’s taken his place, and she needs your help defending Mandalore,” Ben says, walking over to the next slave, asking her quietly if she’s alright, smiling with kindness as he takes her collar off.
“Right now, we are going to be escaping this hovel, and we don’t have long until more guards come, or until they discover the men in the security room, how many people are being held here?” Ben says, mostly to himself, but looking straight at Fett when asking his question.
“I’m not sure, less than a hundred I think,” He says looking over the few dozen there with now. Ben matches his gaze, looking over at everyone, “How are you planning on getting us out?” Fett asks tiredly.
“Well, with this many people, we can’t sneak out, and my ship isn't big enough to hold everyone. So, we’re all going to have to borrow a ship from our dear captors,” He says frowning in thought, another collar falling to the floor.
“There’s at least 30 slaver shabuir here, how are we getting past them?” Fett asks wiping some sweat off his head with the back of his hand. Ben sighs a little, looking over at the rest of the slaves that he hasn't gotten to yet, about a dozen at a guess, and that’s just this level, still four left.
“I’m going to cause a distraction, draw them to me, while you lead these people onto a shuttle. I’ll be nearby if you get into anything too difficult, don't worry,” Ben says reaching out two hands and taking off two more collars.
“I wasn’t Jet’ii,” Fett growls lightly, eyeing him with hatred. Ben sighs, knowing that this might be a problem, and turn to face him. All he met with is a glare, full of hatred, one he’d seen many times in the eyes of others.
“Will that be a problem, Fett,” Ben asks, crossing his arms over his chest, pausing for a moment on freeing slaves to make sure this won’t escalate. “I am a Jedi, but I’m here for Satine and Mandalore, can you handle that, if just for the time being?” Ben asks quietly, his brows raised slightly in question.
“The depends Jet’ii, we’ll see soon,” Fett says calmly, his anger refusing to leave his eyes, but Ben nods his head, accepting the temporary aversion of violence, and continues freeing more people. He can’t help but smile at it, he can feel the light singing, helping him wind his way through each collar, disabling each one with ease.
He hadn’t been able to do this in so long, not since before his exile, helping others, being a Jedi. The feeling of peace and elation flows from him, he’s finally in his element, being who he’s always meant to be.