Chapter Text
The cantina in Mos Espa was a festering stink hole of some of the galaxy’s worst. But no one asked questions here, and Obi-Wan was usually able to catch bits of information about the galaxy beyond while under the guise of enjoying a drink in solitude.
Still, he stayed alert. The crowds made him wary, even after all this time. He had crossed paths with a few of the galaxy’s worst during his time as a Jedi and they knew him well. The chances of one of them showing up this far into the Outer Rim was unlikely, but it would only take one for his carefully maintained secret to come crashing down around them. The instant whispers that General Obi-Wan Kenobi had survived the Jedi Purge reached the core planets, bounty hunters and imperials would be on his tail and Luke would be in danger. And he would not put Luke in danger.
A twi’lek pressed in close to Obi-Wan, who leaned at the end of the bar. He barred his fangs with a hiss as he leaned in, giving his shoulder a shove. “You’re in my spot, old man.” Obi-Wan arched a superior eyebrow, offended at being called old. Gray had begun to tinge the temples of his hair years ago, and it had spread, but he was far from his withering years. He suppressed a sigh and attempted to brush off the drunkard and ignore him, instead of teaching him a few manners. He was only in town for the market, like he was every week, and he had just wanted to slip into the cantina for a quiet drink before heading out again. “Are you hard of hearing?” The twi’lek grabbed him again, jerking him around to face him. He was more than a little drunk. Obi-Wan could smell the liquor on his rotten breath.
“You don’t want to do that,” Obi-Wan said calmly, waving a hand and glancing down at the green hand gripping his arm. The anger that crossed his aggressor’s face told him that even that was far too threatening for his fragile ego, and his mind surprisingly less malleable than it seemed. Obi-Wan shrugged and reached for his drink but the twi-lek threw a hand wide, sending the glass shattering into the wall behind the bar. Too many eyes had turned toward them, and now Obi-Wan was annoyed.
“You’re done,” he growled, grabbing two fistfuls of Obi-Wan’s tunic and practically lifting him off the floor. Obi-Wan’s hand instinctively twitched for his lightsaber. Hidden away carefully beneath the oversized poncho. He’d learned to live without it, without the title of Jedi to quell engagements before they got out of hand, or to end them quickly when they did. It was like marking yourself with a target to brandish a weapon like that in public these days.
“Did asking nicely ever occur to you?” A woman on the other side of the hulking humanoid asked. The twi’lek turned to her, and Obi-Wan clamped his jaw shut to keep it from hitting the floor. “He tends to be quite amicable toward those with manners.”
Evie Torre carried herself the way she always had, confident and unimpressed by the world as she leaned against the bar. Not missing, and not dead, as he had once believed. She looked particularly fierce in the dark clothes she’d traded in her Jedi robes for. Her blond hair, normally pulled back tight and out of the way, fell around her face, tumbling over her shoulder into a loose braid that she tossed back as she slid closer.
“Although,” She said lowly, “That seems to be an area in which you’re quite lacking.” Obi-Wan and the twi’lek looked down at the blaster she had shoved into his ribs. Obi-Wan looked around the cantina again.
“Don’t cause a scene,” he said slowly.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His old friend replied without missing a beat. It was as if a war, massacre, and five years hadn’t separated them, as they fell back in step so quickly. The twi’lek straightened stiffly, one hand still gripping Obi-Wan. “Move along,” she told him with a taunting smile. He let out a low hiss as she jabbed the blaster head harder into his ribs to make her point. “Or the only spot you’ll be taking up is a shallow grave.”
“Too far,” Obi-Wan sighed, knowing what came next. “You always push too far.”
The twi’lek lunged for her, but before Obi-Wan could do anything Evie pulled the trigger. The blast was mostly muffled by his large body, but a few more looked their way. Evie holstered the blaster and let the twi’lek sag onto her shoulder all in one motion. Carefully she shifted her body to leave him half laying over the bar. In this position he merely looked as if he’d passed out, the spilled liquid from the shattered glass seeping into his sleeve. Obi-Wan gave her an incredulous look and then glanced around to see what sort of attention her recklessness had called.
“Was that necessary?” He asked, his annoyance hardly masked. He had kept a low profile this long and as glad as he was to see a familiar face, he was quickly remembering the sort of chaos Evie usually brought with her.
“Sure,” She said flippantly, tossing a few credits on the bar and giving the droid bar tender a look that demanded his silence. “Not a word. Got it?” The droid collected the credits and nodded once before rolling away.
“Evie,” Obi-Wan hissed, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him.
“Good to see you too.” She smiled slyly, leaning her hips into him, resting a hand on his chest. Obi-Wan took a small step back, to put space between them. He could feel his face already turning red. Her smirk turned sullen; and she became as petulant as ever. “You’re welcome,” she muttered.
“I had it handled.”
“But I handled it better.”
“You shot him.”
“Would you have preferred I used my lightsaber?” She snapped and Obi-Wan fixed her with a disapproving look. Evie frustrated him exceedingly, and time apart had clearly not changed that. She looked up at him defiantly, daring him to continue to reprimand her. However, he was now keenly aware that several people were whispering and watching them. Their scuffle had not gone unnoticed.
“Perhaps this reunion is better had in private,” Evie suggested, having noticed as well. Obi-Wan nodded, leading her out of the cantina. As they stepped into the scorching heat under Tatooine’s suns Evie pulled up the dark fabric at her throat so it covered her mouth and nose. A shout from behind told him the twi’lek had friends. He took her hand without thinking and pulled her into the crowds along the street. They wove through the melee of the city, trying to lose the few tails they’d picked up from the cantina, but they were incredibly persistent.
Evie pulled him into an alcove, out of sight. Old instincts kicked in as the two assailants rounded the corner, blasters drawn. Evie grabbed the first and slammed a knee into his stomach, doubling him over and then landing a blow to the back of his head that sent him crumpling to the sand. Obi-Wan dodge a blaster bolt from the other, before throwing him further into the alcove. He hit the back wall with enough force to daze him, and Obi-Wan dropped him with a single blow to the temple. He turned back to Evie, who he could tell was smiling despite the lower half of her face still being covered.
“If you had punched your twi’lek friend like I bet he wouldn’t have called you old.” Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. How long had she been in that cantina, and how had he missed her?
“I nearly forgot how much you enjoy confrontation.”
“You can admit you missed me,” She patted him on the arm patronizingly, “I’m quite missable.” She grabbed the goon she’d downed by the ankles, pulling him back out of easy view of the street.
“Charming as ever, I see.” His tone was satiric, but the compliment sincere. She had always been dazzling, her violet eyes sparkling above the dark mask, even in the bright sun. Without further incident they circled back to his eeopi that was reined to a post near the cantina. It was loaded with the supplies he’d originally come to the city for. Evie scrunched her nose.
“I have a ship,” she said, eyeing the creature with thinly veiled distrust.
“Not anywhere close.”
“Close enough.”
“We’ll come back for it,” Obi-Wan said clambering onto the creature, reaching a hand out to her. She glanced at the material already hung over its back.
“Can it carry us both?” She asked, still skeptical.
“She’s strong,” Obi-Wan insisted and Rue snorted as if in agreement with him. Evie huffed and finally mounted behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as the creature began to lumber across the sands. This was far from how he’d expected his day to go, but he had wanted news of the galaxy beyond. What better news than to know that a Jedi, a friend, lived.
“It really is good to see you, Obi-Wan,” Evie said into his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts, which primarily revolved around her. They had been riding in silence for hours. He closed a gentle hand over hers at his waist and gave a light squeeze. The words to convey exactly how much it meant to him to see her would not come. A rare occurrence for someone once known for always having some comment at the ready. The harshness of solitude in the dessert had done a number on him, apparently.
“I am glad to see you survived,” he replied eventually, probably too late. A cold response by comparison.
“Do you. . . have you heard from anyone else?” Her question was hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. “Anakin? Ashoka?” She sounded sad and hopeful at the same time. Obi-Wan’s chest constricted at Anakin’s name.
“No,” he replied, only a partial lie.
“Me neither,” she said, sounding small, and Obi-Wan was struck, once again, with the painful realization that they, along with master Yoda, could truly be the last of the Jedi. The part of him that hoped had a difficult time believing the Sith had succeeded in snuffing them all out. The part of him that was still riddled with guilt and shame for the way his failure contributed to it all told him that he would deserve that. Although, a reality with Evie alive was one step up from what he’d been living.
At his back he felt her sit up straighter, trying for a better view over his shoulder. The twin suns were setting over the rocky crevices of the Jundland Wastes and his small hut had come into view. In the dim orange light, the planet didn’t look so bad. “Is that your home?” She asked. He had a hard time calling it home, but he nodded. She nestled into his back, resting her chin on his shoulder, her cheek brushing his. She said nothing more, seemingly lost in thought, and Obi-Wan felt an overwhelming sensation well up in his chest.
Evie was here, alive, with him, and he was no longer alone.
Chapter 2
Notes:
I do plan for longer and more in-depth chapters, I promise <3. There's a process (I think).
Chapter Text
The interior of Obi-Wan’s hut was small, but Evie wandered the space in a sort of awe. Everything was orderly and well kept, as she would expect from Kenobi; but it was as if every item was showing her a whole new side of him. She supposed this was a new side to him — the exiled him.
Still, there were things she recognized among the small carvings, basins, and other items around the room. There was a toy ship she thought she recalled seeing in Anakin’s room once, parts to repair a lightsaber, a kettle and four cup set that a princess on Chandrila had gifted him as thanks for dealing with trade dispute, and a fading blanket that she knew she’d used on more than one occasion when in his quarters at the Temple. She felt a small pang of loss thinking of those intimate moments that had been ripped away. Then wondered briefly if this was possibly an opportunity to get them back.
During an age that felt like a lifetime ago she and Obi-Wan had been confidants. She remembered their long talks, over tea, or sometimes something stronger if the moment called for it. It had been so long since she’d talked with anyone as freely as they once had, she didn’t realize till now how much she missed it or missed him.
She glanced over at him to meet his gaze only briefly. He’d been tracking her across the room, as if he wasn’t certain she was there. Or perhaps he didn’t want her there, she thought with a sharp pang of hurt twisting her heart. He cleared his throat and began fussing with the parcels he brought in, putting things away. He was not so changed. The cool and calm Negotiator still had bits of that charmingly awkward boy inside him. She suppressed a grin, thinking of how his cheeks had flushed at the cantina as she’d pressed her body against his. He was so easy. All this time and she still knew exactly how he’d react to things, what to say to make him blush, or how to rile him. Even with years, and wars, and plenty of disagreements between them there was always a comfort in the familiarity of his presence.
“This is quite charming,” she said, finally breaking the silence as she set a carved figure of a bantha back down Obi-Wan chuckled lightly.
“That’s one word for it,” Evie let a small smile slide, she couldn’t help it. There was a joy bubbling up in her core that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Obi-Wan had that affect. As she’d landed on the planet she’d sensed a presence in the Force. But, her connection with the Force had been iffy as of late, and she’d thought it pointless to entertain its pull in a place like this. She’d only stopped on Tatooine because she knew that the Hutts ran most of the planet, and she had better chances with them than the Empire. Plus, her selective skillset made her well equipped to hunt down a bounty on occasion and the Outer Rim was teaming with that sort of work. Coming across someone she knew, or that knew her, was always a risk, even in the underground. She had once been responsible for arresting such criminals, after all. But she'd simply not allowed herself to dream that her paths would cross with Kenobi again. She could kiss that twi’lek for causing a row; otherwise, she probably would have walked out of the bar barely thinking twice about the single figure hunched over his drink in the corner. Fate had intervened, it seemed, as it often did with them.
As usual they disagreed on how to handle the situation at hand, but that was nothing new. In fact, she may have been more offput if Obi-Wan had applauded her forwardness. No, they’d fallen in step as always did when they came back together after so long apart, as if no time had passed at all. Granted, a great many things had happened in these last five years, and it seemed neither of them had been fully prepared to talk about them, or even wanted to. She certainly wasn’t keen on confessing to him what she’d been relegated to in order to survive. But even with the awkwardness currently tense between them, Evie couldn’t squelch the hope rising inside her. A hope for the galaxy and a rebellion, certainly, but also a far more selfish hope. Obi-Wan was alive, and she would no longer have to wander across the stars alone.
“I mean, better than a ship bunk every night. I’ve never found anywhere I thought was safe enough to call a home base.” She shrugged, hugging her arms around her. “How long have you had this place?”
“Awhile now,” he replied cryptically, avoiding her eyes. Evie couldn’t tell if he was being vague in an attempt to be teasing or if he was hiding something. He had been uncharacteristically quiet. “How did you find me?” Evie shrugged again.
“Luck,” she offered quirking her lips down as Obi-Wan scowled.
“There’s no such thing as luck,” he said, and she let the smile slip as he realized instantly she’d been egging him on.
“I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said finally. “I’ve wondered, of course, but you’re a hard man to find.” The tenseness in his shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “Plus, if the Empire for all their spies and resources couldn’t find you I wasn’t betting on me, myself, and I having much luck while on the run myself. But it seems fate has other plans.” She voiced her earlier thought, thinking it would amuse him, but instead his brow knit in concern.
“The Empire is still actively looking for me?” He asked.
“Of course they’re still looking for you,” she replied, confused. “Don’t you see the wanted postings everywhere?” Obi-Wan averted his gaze again and Evie narrowed her own. The bubbly feelings soured in her gut. He was acting strange.
“Have you,” she faltered, not sure she was going to like the answer she was going to get to her next question. “Have you been here this whole time?” He finally looked at her, almost sad, and Evie wanted to take back the question; wanted to suggest tea and to talk nonsense and memories and only slowly make their way to the deeper questions with the harder to swallow answers. She wanted to cling to that hope and happiness just a few minutes longer.
“Yes,” he said simply and the gentleness of it told her he was trying to soften what he knew would be a blow. Evie tried to settle the storm of emotions that competed within her as all her prior thoughts seemed to disintegrate and sift through her fingers like the sand all over this Maker forsaken planet.
“You mean to tell me that the Republic and the Order fell, and you thought your best course of action was to play hermit in the dessert?” She was barely controlling her tone as realization dawned and her once forbidden anger constricted her chest.
“What would you have liked for me to do?” He deflected in a measured tone. Evie shook her head in disbelief.
“Not stick your head in the sand like a coward and pretend the Empire doesn’t exist,” she snapped, knowing she was being unfair even as she said it. He pulled himself up to his full height as he breathed deep through his nose, a sure sign he was bracing for the verbal sparring they so often engaged in.
There were downsides to familiarity. The ease with which hateful things could be spoken when it was someone you knew so well that you took their willingness, their desire, to be close to you for granted. She had never, and would never, believe Obi-Wan Kenobi a coward. All the Jedi went into hiding, some of them luckier and better than others at staying out of the Empire’s grasp, but for whatever reason she’d expected more of Obi-Wan. At the very least, she hadn’t expected this.
“Do you know at all, what’s happening in the galaxy?” He tried to scowl, but it looked more like a wince of pain. He didn’t, how could he all the way out here in hiding? It was why people came to the Outer Rim. “Well, let me enlighten you,” she began bitterly. “The Empire has taken younglings, along with a few traitors, and turned them into Jedi hunting machines. The clones were decommissioned a year ago and likely lined up for slaughter, that’s very hush, hush. The Emperor, with his little minions, is slowly but surely choking the life out of the galaxy, tipping the scales further to the Dark Side every day.” She let the news sink in, getting angrier when Obi-Wan maintained his stoic expression. “Our allies fight for fate of the people in the sham they call a senate. What few Jedi are left are desperately cling to hope, hope you bade them have, mind you, while they fight when and where they can and you’ve just decided there’s no point?” She was on the verge of raging now.
“The fighting is over, don’t you understand?” Evie curled her fists at her side as he took a step toward her, a dangerous gamble in this moment. “We lost.” She searched his eyes, not believing what she was hearing. This man was not the Obi-Wan she knew.
“So we just abandon everything and everyone we care about?” Her voice caught in her throat. Obi-Wan softened.
“No, of course not.” He dared to reach out to her and she smacked his hand away.
“Well, that sure looks like what you’re doing,” she snarled, cutting him off.
“What could I do for them?” He asked her, defensive now. His eyes were now ablaze in annoyance, matching her rising tone.
“Give them hope.”
“What hope, Evie?” He stretched his fingers, grasping for her to understand his point of view. Or he wants to wring your neck in frustration, she told herself even as she pressed on.
“You are a legendary general. Resistance groups would follow you. A leading member of the council, the Jedi would rally and follow you, Master Kenobi,” she said his name with a biting tone, mocking him, again, unfairly. She tried to softened her approach: “They need you.” She tried to sound even more gentle, but she was still a bit riled. “I,”
“I will not be leaving Tatooine,” he said cutting her off. She swallowed down the rest of her confession.
“Why?” She snapped.
“Because I can’t.”
“That’s not an answer.” It had only been a few hours and she was so very done with his abstruseness.
“There are things you don’t understand.” If she could smack that superior tone out of his mouth she would.
“I would understand if you cared to explain.”
“I can’t, Evie,” he repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose, sounding tired.
“You can’t, or just don’t want to admit you’ve given up?” She threw back. Something dark flashed behind his eyes and Evie’s stomach flipped. Too far, he always said she pushed too far.
She was nearly chest to chest with him, now, not remembering when she’d closed the gap in her flurry of rage. He was being ridiculous and stubborn. She didn’t believe he had chosen this Maker forsake planet with no reasoning and she wanted to know what it was and why he wasn’t doing anything about the Empire. Didn’t he know who he was?
He held his composure for a few moments longer, blue eyes blazing. Then like ripples across a still surface of water, the fire abated to a weariness that nearly broke her resolve to challenge him. “I have to tend to Rue before dark and check the generator. You can make yourself comfortable.” He stepped around her, pulling on his poncho again and picking up a staff leaning next to the door. And like that, the argument was over.
Obi-Wan paused in the archway, his shoulders less straight than a moment ago. He didn’t meet her eyes or even look at her as he turned his head. “I know you don't understand. But I am glad to see you, Evie.” And with that, he stepped out into the dying light of the twin suns.
Chapter Text
Obi-Wan hadn’t liked Tatooine when they’d been stuck here while rescuing Padme when she was Queen of Naboo and he didn’t like it now. However, for five years he’d mostly managed to ignore his distaste, remaining disassociated in pursuit of his continued training, and watching over Luke. But tonight, everything about it offended him. From the way the temperature dropped drastically once the suns disappeared, to the way there was sand in and on everything. He took longer than needed to settle Rue in for the night, then he came up with an urgent reason to suddenly take care of every odd job that didn’t need to be done. He even went and scouted the perimeter of his small abode for possible, yet unlikely, threats before meandered to the cave beneath the ledge where his hut sat. Anything he could think of to not go back inside with Evie. She was the most infuriating and headstrong woman he’d ever met, and she pushed every one of his buttons.
Yet, for the briefest of moments, her arms wrapped around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder, he’d felt a little lighter. The pain numbed, even if only for a moment.
His heavy sigh echoed off the moonlit cave walls as he sat down on the shallow, stone steps. He’d let himself get carried away with fantasies of her. Which was the crux of the problem: Evie, was notoriously distracting. Whether it was because she was barging into a situation with reckless abandon, making up plans as she went along, or because her mere presence tended to invade every one of his senses, she was almost impossible to ignore. And he needed his first and only focus needed to be Luke.
He could have told her, he thought, trying to settle into a meditation that seemed pointless. But explaining Luke meant explaining Anakin, and he wasn’t ready to recount that fateful night. While she was angry about his inaction, Obi-Wan thought she was liable to never speak to him again if she knew what he’d done. Anakin had been like a little brother to Evie, his fall to the Dark Side, his death at Obi-Wan’s hands. . .it was a pain he wished to shield her, to shield them both, from, even if it was only temporary.
Anakin and Evie had become fast friends, their reckless tendencies often fueling the others, much to the council’s chagrin. Evie being slightly younger than Obi-Wan had seemed to make it easier for Anakin to confide in her; or perhaps Obi-Wan had simply been a bit too uptight then. Regardless, it had led to there being more than one occasion where Obi-Wan caught himself feeling jealous of their relationship. As uneasy as he had been about taking on a padawan so soon after his knighthood, he had come to love the boy dearly. Too dearly. But it had been clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin had needed a father figure, a position Obi-Wan had been woefully unprepared to take on, especially when he found it so much easier to slip into the habits of brother. It wasn’t until the war that the two of them had seemed to hit their stride, Obi-Wan finally able to trust his own teachings and to trust Anakin as he’d always wanted. So short and fraught with peril were those last few years of truly seeing his padawan grow into the greatest Jedi he had ever known. Leaving him, charred and screaming in agony, on that hillside of lava rock had shattered his heart into a million pieces that had never quite fit back together.
“Your mind is clouded tonight, Obi-Wan.” The calm and steady voice of his master echoed off the chamber walls. Obi-Wan shifted, letting his knees rest in the crooks of his elbows, crossing his ankles, bringing control back to his thoughts.
“Evie is here,” he replied simply after a long moment. As if that was the answer to everything. As if his mind had not drifted back into dark places that he’d been working so hard to break free from.
“Ah,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. It had taken Obi-Wan nearly three years to finally connect with him where they could speak across the veil. The communication was a small comfort in his solitude, even if he wasn’t able to maintain the connection long. When Obi-Wan said nothing, Qui-Gon asked: “Do you wish she wasn’t?”
“Of course not,” Obi-Wan insisted quickly, then fumbled to find the right sentiment. “I have not seen anyone since the war,” he said quietly, keeping his true thoughts concealed for a moment longer before realizing it was ridiculous. “I was certain I’d lost her again.”
Obi-Wan and Evie had known each other for many years, but had spent most of those years apart. Somehow the galaxy always brought them back together, often for teasingly brief moments. Enough for them to remember what it was like to have the other around just to rip them away again. Every time, feelings he’d thought he’d long ago worked past came tumbling back.
Ironically, the first-time fate had been cruel was when she and her master had been reported missing, then assumed dead on a mission. Kai had been one of Qui-Gon’s dear friends, and together they had mourned the loss of them both. Obi-Wan had not taken the news well and he recalled hiding much of his pain, even from Qui-Gon, as best he could. Jedi were not meant to have attachments and back then he could hardly tell the difference between certain feelings in his grief. But years later, long after he’d taken Anakin on as an apprentice, his and Evie’s paths crossed again when he discovered she was alive. He was beginning to think Evie had survived all this time and so many close calls through sheer stubbornness. As it turned out, she had spent years searching for her master, not willing to believe he was truly gone. When he found her, she’d become disillusions with the Order, feeling abandoned, and it had taken no small amount of coaxing and cajoling on his part to get her to return. It hadn’t helped when many had condemned her for her choices made as a rouge and the council still required her to take her trials — without her master present. Then the war had kept them busy, and upon Satine reentering his life due to the conflicts on Mandalore the dynamic the two of them had rebuilt in those short years shifted again. The two women had never gotten along very well, something to do with him, Evie had hinted once, and she had maintained a cold indifference to the Duchess, which she extended to Obi-Wan during that time except for rare, passing moments. He'd once cared about Satine deeply, but he knew even then that whatever was between him and Evie was very different. When Satine died, he had mourned, he'd felt the guilt, and regret, but in the end he had let go. With Evie, he knew now what he felt was something dangerously close to attachment.
“I always believed fate had plans for the two of you. Quite a coincidence she is the first person you’ve come across in all this time.” Qui-Gon sounded amused at whatever private thoughts he was having. The man was a secret romantic. He had never discourage Obi-Wan’s flirtations with Evie, or anyone. Cautioned them, certainly, but he’d always been fond of Evie and her unconventional ways of thinking. “How is she?” Obi-Wan realized with shame he hadn’t even asked her, consumed as he’d been by his own selfish thoughts. Then they’d turned to bickering so quickly, as they often did; except this time the barbed words had meant to hurt — had hurt.
“Infuriating,” Obi-Wan replied. “Stubborn, impatient.” Dazzling, beautiful, intoxicating. Qui-Gon chuckled lightly.
“So, the same.” Obi-Wan returned the chuckle half-heartedly, then stilled.
"She thinks I’m wrong for choosing exile.” She thinks I’m a coward for choosing exile, he corrected. “She thinks I should have stayed and fought the Empire, brought hope.” He recounted the argument loosely, leaving out exactly how much her words made him doubt his decision.
“I’m surprised to hear you in such opposition to her desire to act. That doesn’t sound very like you.” Obi-Wan scoffed, his own stubbornness refusing to admit he saw validity in Evie’s frustration with him.
“Of course I wish I could do more. But my mandate is to watch over the boy,” he continued sharply, not sure why he was feeling defensive.
“To what end?” The question was gentle but jarring all the same. To Obi-Wan the obvious answer was to train him, but doubts filled his mind. What if he was as susceptible to the darkness? What would he do if he ever learned what Obi-Wan had done to his father? What if he failed him, just as he had failed Anakin?
This was all assuming Owen even let him near Luke again. That was a whole other issue he hadn't handled well and was paying for it. When he thought about it in these terms it seemed foolish, to watch from afar unwanted and despised, simply waiting, tempting his patience and fortitude. He wanted to think Evie would understand that this path, this mission, was one he chose, but he knew her too well to know that she would never sit and wait when she could stand and fight. Perhaps that was what prevented him from telling her before. Knowing that her sharp tongue would slash through every argument he’d made to keep himself here. Perhaps she was right, and he was staying here because it was easier to simply wallow in his pain than to drag himself upright and fight through it. Again.
“I sense much conflict in you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon’s voice broke his spiraling thoughts and he felt his shoulders sag in weariness. All those years ago, when he’d brough Luke to his aunt and uncle, he’d felt broken and he’d been in mourning; but he had had hope and a clear mission, despite how bleak it all seemed. But things seemed less clear the longer he was here.
“I’m not the man I once was. The man she thinks I am.”
“So be the man you are now.” The man he was now was broken, a shell of the warrior he’d once been.
“I'm not sure I know who that is,” he confessed, but Qui-Gon's presence had faded in the long moments of silence, and only the empty cave heard him.
As the temperatures continued to grow colder Obi-Wan decided to return to his hut, hoping maybe Evie had fallen asleep at the late hour. But as he crested the hill he paused, making out a silhouette sitting cross legged on the ledge overlooking the endless, dessert sands. Seeing Evie so peaceful, still in meditation, was odd to him. He’d always thought of her like a live, exposed wire – sparking, electrifying, and dangerous. He started toward her, waiting for some indication she knew he was there or an invitation to join her, but she ignored him. She was so damn stubborn, he thought, instantly annoyed even as he shrugged off his cloak and laid it carefully around her shoulders.
She arched a single, perfect brow as he settled down next to her, but her eyes remined closed. “I supposed you don’t want to explain this either?” She asked, out up an object she’d been holding in her lap that caught the cold moonlight. Obi-Wan felt like he’d been punched in the gut, everything he’d been planning to say in an attempt to smooth things over left his mind.
Anakin’s lightsaber.
She’d gone through his things. Not that it would have taken her long to find the single lightsaber in the house, left sitting in a trunk in the middle of the floor. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed about it or had expected as much, he was too concerned about having to face the topic of Anakin, now. He fidgeted uncomfortably, the sands sifting beneath him. She opened her eyes, still holding out the lightsaber until she realized he was not going to take it. Her presence softened, but now he could not look at her.
“What happened?” She asked softly, resting the lightsaber in her lap. Obi-Wan took a shaky breath. So many things, he wanted to say.
“Anakin is gone,” he felt his heart sink, “dead.” His voice seemed ragged. “I wasn’t.” He recalculated, “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry.” He winced, bracing for some form of harshness, as if she could read his mind and know that was not the whole truth. Sometimes, many times, half-truths were kinder.
“I’m sorry,” she said instead, a gentle hand on his knee. There wasn’t much else to say. He looked at her finally, finding sadness and sympathy in her eyes. But she also searched him, looking for the details he wasn’t sharing. “You were there.”
“Yes,” I killed him. I left him alone to die. The truth was unbearable, and he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He realized then that he’d never said it out loud, not to anyone, not even himself. Did she really need to know? Wouldn’t knowing he’d failed to save him, to protect him, be enough? Evie’s brows knit as she listened to him struggle with his half-truths. If she expected more she didn’t press him for it. “I failed him.” His voice hitched. Evie thought a moment.
"I doubt that," she said with such certainty he almost believed her. Evie turned the lightsaber over in her lap, thoughtful. “I don’t think you’re a coward.” His brows pinched, trying not to feel too hurt at the reminder, knowing she’d said it earlier merely to get a rise. “I just,” she faltered, knuckles whitening as her grip on the lightsaber tightened, then relaxed. Obi-Wan chanced a glance at her, the muscle taught along her jaw as her brow furrowed as if she were in pain. “How did we miss it?” She asked, emotion rising in her throat. “He was there the whole time. A Sith ran our government and controlled our enemies, control us, for years and no one saw it.” Her face contorted. “So many lives,” her voice caught.
“We were blind” Obi-Wan said, then elaborated: “We never stopped to think the problem was us. Consumed with the problems of the galaxy, as we were.” He paused before adding, “The Order was complacent, and the Sith were not.” He could think of many times he fell prey to the same.
“Could we have stopped it?”
“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully. What he didn’t tell her what how much he saw his own glaring errors, on Kamino, hunting Grievous, mentoring Anakin, and how many sleepless night he’d spent puzzling out if he’d made any decision, even one, differently, could it have changed any of the outcomes, or saved even one life.
“We have to fix it.” She was ever a problem solver, and even now he adored that about her. Hesitantly he rested a rand on her shoulder. She turned a hopeful and wondering gaze on him.
“I don’t know that we can," he said, fully aware they were at risk of arguing again. But she didn’t get angry this time, only looked down at the lightsaber again, dejected. He longed to pick her brain, to parry with her wit, to hear her stories, to pull her closer, but all of those felt wrong for the moment.
“Maybe,” she said looking up at the stars. Watching her he felt things may not be all bad. He felt a soft smile tug at his cheeks as he allowed himself to really look at her as he hadn’t dared to do since she crashed back into his life in the cantina. Eyes filled with wonder and mischief, a mouth forever quirked in an amused tilt, long blond hair that now flowed more freely than ever, pieces falling out of their fastenings. Without thinking he reached to brush one of the heavy strands back over her shoulder, turning her face to his as he traced a finger down the sharp slant of her jaw. Careful Kenobi, he thought as she pressed her cheek into his palm, placing her hand over his. Perhaps fate had brought him and Evie together because it had plans for them, but perhaps it was chance as well, and fate, like always, would see to it that they would not be together long.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Realizing while I love to read a slow burn, especially with tension filled bickering and banter, I, in fact, do not like writing it. But also, it's time to go on an adventure, and I do enjoy writing those!
Chapter Text
“Where did you go last night?” Evie asked as she watched Obi-Wan shuffle barefoot around the kitchen, looking like he’d barely slept. He was adorably rumpled, hair a mess, falling every which way, as he poured two cups of caf, remembering she took a spoonful of sugar without even asking. It was all startlingly domestic, and Evie felt the longing in her chest as she took the cup of caf Obi-Wan handed her, and they stood across each other, barely an arms length in the small space. If only a little closer, she found herself wishing.
He’d been insistent, after coaxing her back inside last night, that she take the bed and he sleep on a mat on the floor. She’d bit back a multitude of impulsive quips about him joining her, none of them feeling right for the heavy moment after learning of Anakin’s death. But she enjoyed any time she could fluster the flirtatious general, and she was still feeling indignant after their spat; so she’d helped herself to one of his shirts to sleep in before crawling into bed. He hadn’t commented on the missing half of the ensemble, but as she leaned against his kitchen counter, shirt barely brushing her thighs, he seemed to be struggling to control his wandering gaze.
“What do you mean?” He asked, sipping on the steaming black liquid in his own mug. Evie’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t pressed him any further after learning about Anakin, feeling guilty for her earlier comments. She’d never had a padawan, but she had been one, and if losing a master had been painful, she couldn’t imagine what losing a padawan was like.
Obi-Wan knew the pain of loss intimately.
Evie had experienced her share of loss, but she couldn’t say she’d ever be able to bear it the way Obi-Wan bore his in silent solitude. If he was tired and wanted to live out the last of his life in exile with his grief most couldn’t blame him. But she did. If she were a better person, she would have listened to his side of the story instead of spitting insults and accusations at him. He may have told her about Anakin sooner, about how he managed to survive and she, in turn, could have told him her side — about how much she could use his help about now. But she’d been angry that he hadn’t already rallied and risen to the position he always did: the leader. He’d left the burden to people like her, and Maker knew that was far from what the galaxy needed. She’d made a proper mess of things and, although she was loath to admit it, she didn’t know what to do now.
But Obi-Wan was clearly hiding something, and she wasn’t inclined to give up her secrets if he didn’t want to give up his. A petty principal, but one she had few qualms sticking to if he insisted on being equally as stubborn. “What are you hiding, Obi-Wan?”
“You’re one to talk,” he deflected.
“Show me yours I’ll show you mine,” Evie quipped with a sly smile over her mug. He ignored her.
“If you’re going to bring trouble to my door, Evie, you could at least fill me in on what it is.” He stepped forward, bracing his arms on either side of her, pinning her between him and the counter. The bastard, she thought, he knew exactly what he was doing invading her personal space like this.
“Who says I’m in trouble?” He smirked.
“When are you not in trouble?” It was a jest, but all too true.
“Careful asking questions you might not like the answer to,” she breathed.
“This trouble wouldn’t have anything to do with those men back at the cantina, would it?”
“It might.” He waited, gaze darkening. She relented her petty hold on her secrets. He was just trying to stay alive, same as her. “I might have stolen something.” Confusion now. “Something from the Empire.” She added hesitantly and watched as the confusion gave way to something that was a cross between annoyance and fear as he stepped back, rubbing a hand across his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday?”
“You didn’t ask.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t actually know if they were bounty hunters. I do know I wasn’t followed, so if they were after me it was just a chance encounter. There won’t be more.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Last I checked bounty hunters were notoriously greedy. I don’t think they are calling in buddies for one Jedi.”
“No, just the Empire.” His voice was starting to raise in exasperation.
“The Empire is not going to come all the way out to Tatooine,” she scoffed. “If they do, I’ll be long gone and out of your hair. I’ll even leave a trail for them to follow if that’ll make you happy.” His gaze snapped up, as if that idea offended him even more than her not telling him. “Although, maybe not gone that fast, my ship probably won’t make it out of the quadrant without some repairs.”
“What’s wrong with your ship?” He was more exasperated by every new detail. In another circumstance she’d have found it amusing.
“There may be some issues with my hyperdrive, and maybe some minor circuit card issues.” She was underselling it. “Your back water mechanics are absurdly over priced, by the way. I was having a hard time finding someone that wasn’t going to take me for everything I have.” Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing the spot between his brows as if he could massage this new headache that was her presence away.
“I’ll take you back to your ship, I may have someone that can help with repairs.”
“You aren’t even a little curious about what I have?”
“No, in fact I think you should destroy whatever it is and get this idea that you’re going to take on the Empire alone out of your head.”
“Like hell,” she huffed a laugh. She hadn’t nearly been captured and shot out of the sky just to give up the intel she now had.
“Damn it, Evie, stop being so stubborn.”
“I’m being stubborn?” She scoffed but Obi-Wan just cupped her face in both of his hands, ocean eyes drowning her in their intense gaze.
“They will kill you,” he said. Pleading with her to remember. Like she hadn’t thought of it before. As if she could forget.
“I’m harder to get rid of than you think.” His face pinched in lament, knowing she would not be listening to any of his pleas. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a tough girl. I used to lead armies and everything.” She tweaked his beard playfully trying to ease the worry lines on his forehead, and the heavy sadness settling in her chest. He let go, realizing there was no dissuading her. She’d always been a formidable power of will.
The two of them moved about the rest of the morning and the trip back to Mos Espa in a false levity. Evie wondering if he was being eaten alive by everything left unsaid between them, like she was. But the mutual silent agreement seemed to be to bask in whatever limited time they had.
After stabling the eopie and slipping the docile creature a treat from his pocket, Obi-Wan led her to what looked like a junk shop. Evie stayed close behind his shoulder as the young man hunched over a speeder bike on a work bench noticed them.
“Ben!” The young man exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning. Evie pushed down a grin at hearing someone so excited to see him, and at the name.
“Good morning, Kitsu,” Obi-Wan replied in his standard politeness.
“Surprised to see you, old man, what are you doing here?” He snapped, as if having a sudden brilliant thought. “You wanted to see the bike.” Kitsu winked, grinning at the Lohsan Maverick that was in pieces on the work bench. He was young, maybe twenty, with golden eyes and thick, unruly, black hair barely kept at bay by giant welding goggles.
“Oh yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully.
“And who is this?” Kitsu asked, noticing Evie for the first time, pushing past Obi-Wan to assess his second visitor.
“Evie,” she replied, watching a cocky grin spread across his face. She’d been flirted with enough time in her life to know where his head was going. Still, she was about as amused as Obi-Wan, who stood by with a curious expression tugging lightly at his features as he twisted the end of his beard.
“This is Kitsu, a friend,” he said with an assuring nod. She was beginning to wonder exactly how alone he was out here. She was glad to see there was at least one among the ranks.
“His best friend, actually.” The young man took her hand, dipping his head low to kiss it as if she were some kind of royalty. Evie fought back another grin, mouthing best friend to Obi-Wan who rolled his eyes at the bravado and subsequent teasing. “Frankly I didn’t realize old Ben had any other friends, especially one as lovely as you,” Kitsu said, straightening. Evie liked his unabashed directness.
“I’m quite an old friend of, Ben’s.” She rolled the name around her mouth carefully, making the briefest of eye contact, already understanding more than he’d told her in the last several hours.
“Fascinating,” he drawled, looking at her like some treasure trove of information.
“Evie’s ship is in need of some repairs. Do you think you could take a look at it?” Obi-Wan spoke before Kitsu could begin to pepper her with all the questions he so clearly wanted to ask.
“Ah, and off worlder.” Kitsu’s eyes glimmered as if he had just discovered another secret. In a way he had. “What brings you out to golden desserts of Tatooine?”
“Just passing through.” The answer was short, but he seemed satisfied with it. What must it be like to be simple and trusting? She wondered.
“Well, about all we got is slavery, sand, and scum so I don’t blame anyone that doesn’t want to stay longer than they need.” He began rummaging through a crate, pulling out a satchel that clanked with tools. “I’d have left a long time ago if I could.”
“Why can’t you?” Evie asked, Obi-Wan was staring intently out the open bay door at something, hardly paying attention. Kitsu sucked his teeth, like she asked a question that required a heavy answer.
“Old Ben wouldn’t have any friends left if we both leave.” Intriguing, Evie thought. Perhaps he wasn’t so trusting and forthcoming. Evie glanced at Obi-Wan, who looked more concerned than usual, and was still hardly engaging in their interaction. “Which hanger?” Evie answered with the bay number that Kitsu punched into a communicator. “In case my boss comes back,” he explained when he saw her eyeing it warily.
“You two should go on ahead, I’ll be right behind you. I just,” Obi-Wan glanced out the door again, “I just need to take care of something I forgot about yesterday.” He was being suspicious again, he forget very little, but before Evie could call him out on it, he’d slipped away, leaving her alone with the mechanic.
“So, how old of a friend are you of Ben’s?” Kitsu asked as they began the walk to her ship. Evie gave a sidelong look up at him and he blanched. “Kriff, I didn’t mean,”
“I know what you meant,” Evie replied with a light chuckle. “We grew up together.”
“Ooo, what was young Ben like? I can only imagine him being bearded and grumpy.” A thousand memories flitted through her mind like they were on a holo reel loop. He’d been brave and noble, joyful and kind, wise and strong, steadfast and true. Simultaneously he’d been filled with anxiety and fears of never being enough. He’d also been a knot of stress for most of his life but having friends like her and Skywalker would probably do that to anyone.
“Life does that to people,” she said instead, glancing behind her to see if she could still see him in the crowd, but he had disappeared.
“He seems like he’s been around that’s for sure.” The comments struck Evie as odd.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve never seen a man, and there are some mean looking bounty hunters that roll through here, fight off four spice runners single handedly.”
“Over what?” What did Obi-Wan need to engage with spice runners for? Kitsu looked sheepish, as sheepish as one with his bravado could look.
“Me.” Evie’s brows raised in question. “He saved my life.” That sounded like Obi-Wan. “He still pretends it was some stroke of luck he got us out of there, but I know what I saw.” He still had it in him, it seemed. That unshakable foundation of his character that bid him help others in need. But how much devastation and destruction could a foundation take before it crumbled beneath the pressure?
“He doesn’t believe in luck,” she replied absentmindedly, then quickly diverted the topic, asking questions about the town while scanning every face for more bounty hunters. No one seemed to pay her any mind —a good sign. By the time they made it to the hanger Evie had puzzled out that Obi-Wan had to be inadvertently drawn to the young man’s infectious voracity for life. He was a breath of fresh air on a planet designed to stifle him. He was also incredibly talkative.
Through the hour of them both working on the hyperdrive he’d kept up a constant stream of commentary and questions. Evie evaded as many as possible, especially when he asked what the scorch marks along her hull were from, but the boy’s curiosity was a formidable adversary to her newly adopted tight lippedness. He was, however, a gifted mechanic and the repairs were coming along blessedly fast. Obi-Wan remained elusive.
“Hey kid,” Evie called up to him as he was hunched over one of the top control panels. He pushed his goggles back, the leather strap barely holding the thick, dark hair at bay. “You got it from here?” He flipped her a thumbs-up then went back to work.
Her own curiosity had started to eat at her with his strange behavior, and if he thought he could simply tell her nothing because she wasn’t staying then he had another thing coming. She couldn’t argue this place seemed an ideal hideout; but his insistence that he couldn’t leave, wouldn’t leave, still did not sit well with her. She’d thought at first he’d simply been trying to shield her from Anakin’s death and the toll the loss was taking on him. But the longer she thought about it the less that made sense as his main reason.
“I just want to meet him, Owen.” A voice she recognized instantly reached her ears after about thirty minutes of searching. Spotting Obi-Wan, Evie carefully wedged herself between a merchant stall and the wall, peering through hanging odds and ends to see him talking with a sandy-haired man, a few years younger than him.
“What for?” The man snapped, hands on his hips. Obi-Wan grappled for an answer, his lack of words seemed odd to her.
“Because,” was all he finally settled on.
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t.” There was some unspoken feud, some understanding between the two of them on whatever they were discussing, because Obi-Wan winched as the man pointed a harsh finger at him to emphasize his point. This was what he had to do? She edged around the booth to another to get a better look at the man, sidling up to another wagon trapsed with baskets of fruits and spices. Focused on the interaction, she nearly plowed over a small, pretty, blond woman and her son. Evie righted her quickly, apologizing and awkwardly stepping over the boy tangled up beneath her feet, playing in the sand. The woman smiled brightly and waved a hand as they both stooped to pick up the fruits Evie had knocked out of her grip.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No trouble at all,” the woman said lightly, waving her off good naturedly. But Evie wasn’t listening, she was looking at the collection of wooden toys the boy was clutching, playing with in the sand — at the wooden bantha she’d just picked up on Obi-Wan’s shelf yesterday. She glanced over at him, but he hadn’t seen her, still in fervent conversation with the other man.
There are things you don’t understand.
Evie thought she may be beginning to understand, although she wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Those are pretty wizard,” she said to the boy, digging one creature out of the sand that was at risk of being buried and forgotten, holding it up for him to take. He looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then reached out to take it, his small fingertips brushing hers.
“Luke, say thank you,” his mother admonished. The boy couldn’t have been more than five and muttered out some version of thanks before turning his attention back to his toys. Evie grappled with what she felt, even as she reached for more, standing slowly. The woman shook her head, but she was smiling.
“Cute kid,” Evie said, brushing her hands on her pants. With a single quick glance she knew Obi-Wan had seen her, and so had the other man.
“Beru,” the man growled, stomping over, Obi-Wan on his heels. The woman looked up, confused by, whom Evie assumed was, her husband. “Who are you?” He asked Evie, forcing himself between the woman and child, and her. Evie felt her features settle, standing her ground against the man, who seemed to think she would scare easily.
“I was about to ask you the same,” she said slowly.
“Evie,” Obi-Wan began quietly behind her, a hand on her elbow.
“You’re one of them too, aren’t you?” The man named Owen asked in a conspiratorial tone, jerking his chin at Kenobi. Evie’s eyes narrowed.
“So what if I am dirt farmer.” He scowled.
“Get away from my family.” Evie glanced down at the boy again, and the man shifted. “Don’t,” he threatened. She glanced back at Obi-Wan who was staring at the boy who hadn’t even noticed him.
“Please, Owen,” he said quietly, turning his gaze back up to the man as Beru, with a signal from Owen, picked the boy up and walked away.
“You Jedi only bring trouble. You told me to protect him. That’s what I’m doing. I’m protecting him from you.” Evie’s anger, too often unchecked these days, flared at the insult only stayed by Obi-Wan’s hand on her elbow. He grimaced, then schooled his features into something unreadable.
“Let’s go, Evie.”
Evie didn’t know where she was going, she just needed to think. Obi-Wan trailed at her shoulder, silent. There had been something, when she’d reached out through the Force. Her connection with it had been weak in later years, not using it in the interest of going undetected by Inquisitors. But she couldn’t have mistaken what she sensed about the about the boy. She didn’t think Obi-Wan had either, why else would he be so intent on meeting him? Unless. . . it didn’t make a lot of sense, but the longer she stewed in her theories the more outlandish they got.
“Who’s the boy?” She asked, turning abruptly, stopping their pace. Obi-Wan glanced around the street, not wanting to draw attention.
“I was going to tell you,” he began gently.
“When?” She challenged, it sounded like a placation to her. “As I boarded my ship to leave?” He crossed his arms tight around himself.
“To tell you about the boy means telling you much more than I simply wasn’t ready for.” He sounded calm, but she could sense his uneasiness. “Can you understand that?” He turned imploring eyes to her.
“So tell me now,” she demanded. He swallowed hard. “Whose kid is that Obi-Wan?” She asked a bit too harshly. Why was she so angry? She had seen the pain on his face as Owen had snapped at him, calling him dangerous and a threat to the boy. There was only one person that kept coming to mind, but it still didn’t make his solitude any more reasonable. It didn’t make him abandoning her to her own devices any less hurtful. “Is he yours?” She asked the ridiculous, trying to break him from his trance. It worked, Obi-Wan grabbed her by the shoulders, leading her into an alcove where they were out of sight. Pressed this close together, his frame blocking hers from view of the street, reminded her of a different time in the forgotten corners of the Temple; when they used to steal kisses and the worst secret they had was each other.
“Of course he’s not mine,” he hissed, clearly annoyed about having this conversation. He stopped himself before he could say more.
“He’s a Skywalker, isn’t he?” She didn’t know why she thought that, but she did. Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed, like he was giving up a great secret, but after along moment he nodded once, almost imperceptibly. There were a thousand questions she could ask, many of them ones she should have asked before, many years ago. “Padme?” Evie had always admired her. The senator had been fierce and vibrant, and notoriously secretive about the father of her child. Even when she died and they all said she’d lost the baby too, no one knew who the father was. Except, it seemed she hadn’t lost the baby.
“The Empire cannot find him.” She scowled. Did he think she would be so careless?
“Are you going to train him?” Obi-Wan’s eyed her warily.
“You’re patronizing me,” he said finally.
“I have to believe you’re here for a greater purpose than a self-imposed exile to watch over a kid you can’t get within two meters of.”
“My mandate was to watch over him, nothing more.” Evie’s gaze narrowed.
“That wasn’t an answer.” Obi-Wan sighed, frustrated. He hated when she ripped apart his attempts to be discreet.
“I don’t have an answer.”
“You mean to tell me in five years you haven’t considered whether or not you’ll train the child of the most powerful Jedi our Order has ever seen?”
“Shh,” he lurched as if to press a hand over her mouth then thought better of it as she shoved him. “You clearly have an opinion on the matter, why don’t you share?”
“I just have a hard time believing you of all people are just out here wandering the dessert with no plan, not having thought about it.”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.” Evie raised an expectant brow, refusing to let up this time.
“And?” He glared at her, his own aggravation rising to meet hers. There would never be a life where they didn’t push each other to their limits of patience and restraint.
“If I tell you yes will you drop the matter?”
“Is that the truth?” His glare faltered and he looked weary again.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, dropping his head.
“So why are you still here?” She tried to meet his dropped gaze. She wanted to understand, but she didn’t know how to form the words in her current state to make that clear. She didn’t have the same control he did. She reached for the data stick in her pocket, ready to tell him what he’d refused to learn earlier. If he knew there were those like the boy that actually needed him, that weren’t living with loving families unaware of the power they possessed.
“He needs me.” She held the data stick up to him.
“They need you,” she said, but before she could elaborate he cut her off, snatching the stick out of his face.
“Do not ask me to leave again,” he said resolutely. Evie bristled, she’d hardly been asking him before. He had always been stubborn but rarely without cause.
“You can’t possibly believe you are doing more good here watching that boy, that boy that is safe and loved, grow up from afar than staying in the fight?” The edge was creeping back in her voice as she tried to understand this man in front of her. He was Obi-Wan, but just a ghost of him.
“What if I simply don’t have any fight left in me?” There was a sadness in his tone, a weariness, she realized as she watched his brow pinch and his eyes unfocused, as if he’d never admitted as much to even himself and hearing it out loud made it all the more real.
“That has never been true about you, ever.” She meant it as a comfort, but it came out of her mouth in a far more forceful. A denial. Failure, resignation? These were not words anyone she knew would ascribe to him. During the Clone Wars she’d seen him beaten on more than one occasion, his body bruised and broken and the tides of battle against them; and still he’d risen with a snarl, one hand clutching broken ribs and the other his lightsaber, determined to fight to the very end by his men — to die on his feet. He had been knocked down so many times and not once had he let it keep him down.
“Well, it’s true about me, now,” he said with a conviction that twisted her gut. “So you should just go. I can’t help you.” A lump was beginning to form in her throat, preventing her from speaking, so she pushed past him, storming off. She didn’t look back to see if he tried to follow her, it would hurt too much if he didn’t. So she wandered through the back ally mazes of the city to make herself at least feel like she was eluding him.
A child, he was refusing to help her and hundreds of others because of one child that very clearly didn’t need him, all because he was Anakin’s. It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. In another life it may have been pathetically endearing, that he loved Anakin enough to watch over his and Padme’s child, being reminded of their loss every time he looked at the boy all blond haired and blue eyed. Protecting him from the Empire sounded noble enough, but the brick wall she could only assume was an uncle or family friend of some sort seemed to be doing just fine on his own. If the Empire came out this far, it would be because of Obi-Wan. . . or her. It wasn’t under the terms she’d hoped, but she realized it was time for her to leave. For everyone’s sake.
Evie found her way back to the open air hanger, wondering how much progress Kitsu had made. She already was a little sad to have to say goodbye to the kid. Voices wafted up from the other side of her ship, then the sound of someone being struck cracked through the air. As Evie turned the corner she stopped short, throwing herself back into the shadows as four figures came into view. All of them standing over a kneeling Kitsu, whose face was bloodied and bruised.
A deveronian twice his size in bulk struck him again, causing the boy to spew blood. Kitsu whimpered pitifully as the IG unit hoisted him upright again by the back of his collar. Evie winced, she could see the damage from here. So, she had been wrong about the bounty hunters having friends. Obi-Wan would be thrilled, after he lit into her for getting Kitsu mixed up in her problems. She should never have left him knowing that someone could recognize her ship.
“Where is she?” A female twi’lek with magenta skin asked with a hiss.
“I told you, I don’t know,” Kitsu said in a tone that sounded like it wasn’t the first time. “This was just a job.”
“I say we string him out, the Jedi won’t be able to resist helping him.” That much was true, Evie thought.
“Just kill him, she has to come back anyway.” The fourth, a human, said. The deveronian seemed to be in charge, and he assessed Kitsu, weighing the options. Evie did the same, reaching for her blaster. A hand wrapped around her wrist and she spun, trying to break the hold of her attacked, but he anticipated it and pressed a hand over her mouth, pushing her against the wall, further into the shadows.
Obi-Wan, held her down until she realized it was him and then he dropped his hand, still pressing a forearm across her collarbones. “Get off me,” she whispered harshly, trying to shove him away, but he leaned into it.
“You can’t just go blasting,” he hissed.
“You have a better plan?”
“Of course I do.” He shifted his cloak aside to reveal his own blaster, and his lightsaber. Evie was surprised, and impressed. She rolled her eyes all the same.
“Oh yeah, and I’m the one that’s not subtle.” He took out his blaster only, giving her a pointed look.
“Can you get Kitsu if I create a diversion?” Evie eyed the four bounty hunters armed to the teeth around the boy. With her lightsaber she could have. She nodded, trusting him as much as she always had. “Wait for my signal,” he started to turn around, but then there was a a gurgling cry as the deveronian wrapped a wire around Kitsu’s neck.
“No time,” she said, unholstering her blaster and barreling into the hanger bay aiming for the closest bounty hunter scum. The twi’lek yelped as the shot hit her in the shoulder, the rest of the crew turned toward Evie, but she was already on them. She sidestepped the long rifle the man brought up to aim, she wrenched it out of his hands, using the momentum of the turn to slam the butt of it into the side of his head. She aimed the rifle at the IG unit, the blast causing the droid to stutter. There was a rapid succession of shots, causing the last to retreat as Evie slide across the sand on her knees to Kitsu’s side who was hacking violently. Evie’s fingers slipped on the blood at his throat as she tried to pull the wire lose as Obi-Wan fired on the other’s around them. The IG unit made jerky movements as it rose, aiming at her again. Evie scrambled for her blaster as droid’s head exploded before it could get a shot off, and then Obi-Wan was beside her, hoisting Kitsu onto his shoulder.
“Go,” he shouted over the blaster fire that rained down on them. Evie ran to the ramp, covering him as he limped a bloodied and half-conscious Kitsu on board. She followed, running down the hall to the cockpit, flipping switches as she dropped into the pilot’s seat. She hoped Kitsu finished most of the repairs.
Evie scanned the ship sensors as they rose out of the bay, the bounty hunters still firing. They were barely past the city limits when she recognized the rumble of a ship’s canon blasting behind them. So they had lots of friends, she thought. Flipping off the auto-pilot she took control of her ship, the evasive maneuver nearly sending Obi-Wan tumbling to the floor as he entered the cockpit. The ship on their tail wasn’t much larger than hers, but it definitely had more firepower. She yanked on the controls, evading their fire and trying to get out of range.
“More friends of yours?” Obi-Wan asked, patronizing.
“Shut up,” she grunted as she pulled at the controls.
“Bounty hunters are notoriously greedy. They would never call backup for one Jedi.” He mocked her earlier claims.
“Why don’t you do something useful like fire back?” She snapped.
“You’d have to fly halfway decently for me to do that,” he shouted back at her even as he went for the rear gunner. Evie dropped low to the planet’s surface and hit the thrusters, kicking up a cloud of sand before she banked hard to the right into a rocking outcropping. She was willing to bet what she lacked in firepower she made up for in speed. The turn into the canyon was a little harder than she expected and the hull bumped the rocky landscape. She heard Obi-Wan swear. Another blast hit close, she wasn’t losing them, this ship wasn’t meant for tight evasive maneuvers no matter how hard she pushed it.
“You can fire back any time,” she shouted down the corridor to Obi-Wan. The response was the explosion of a shot meeting its mark.
“You were saying?” Evie rolled her eyes and focused on flying. There were two new ships that were now closing in. Someone must have sent out a ping to every bunty hunter in the system. Which could be a lot more than she thought now that she was thinking about it, it was a Hutt controlled planet, after all. She pulled the ship upright, racing for the upper atmosphere. There were still two on their tail, but they were losing ground in the upward climb, their ships too heavy for the thrusters. Obi-Wan was still firing, covering their rear, until he wasn’t. “Evie,” Obi-Wan called, no doubt confused and concerned. She’d rerouted all the power, risking the exposure. Then she killed the engines and let the ship fall. The two larger vessels couldn’t bank fast enough. They swerved, barely avoiding them, letting Evie fall to their rear. It was a move she’d used in dogfights in her fighter. This was hardly that, but if it worked. . .
With the power she’d rerouted from the rear gun to the front canons she opened fire as they fell, hitting both ships. She kicked the engine back into gear and sped forward again, the force throwing her back in her seat as she went after the last ship limping along close to the planet surface. She fired on them again, until it crashed into the sands, fuel tanks exploding on impact. She turned the ship away, heading out of the planet atmosphere, praying to the Force every deity she could think of that Kitsu had fixed the hyperdrive.
Obi-Wan came stomping up the corridor. She could tell by his gait he was angry. Momentarily she thought about chastising him like master Yoda used to do: mindful of your anger, you must be, young padawan. But she doubted he would find it funny like he used to. Especially not once they were in hyperspace, racing lightyears away from his precious exile. Not when an innocent boy had just been beaten bloody because someone was trying to get to her. While the hyperdrive loaded she went for the med kit, meeting Obi-Wan in the drop bay where Kitsu lay bleeding.
“I have a bunk,” she said, and Obi-Wan carefully picked up the boy, following her to one of the four pods on the ship. They didn't speak. Kitsu looked bad, a black and purple bruise forming under his eye, his nose and mouth busted, a sliver of red wrapped around his neck from where the wire had cut into it. This was her fault. She stepped away from him, blood pounding in her ears as she let Obi-Wan care to his injuries. For all her preaching about saving people she’d been the one to put the boy in danger. Perhaps the dirt farmer was right.
The Jedi only bring trouble.
Chapter 5
Summary:
I wrote myself into multiple corners and couldn't get out. I'm still not really out. . .
Also, life is crazy and writing is hard.
Chapter Text
“I want to see the stars,” Kitsu rasped.
“Later.” Obi-Wan spun, ready to wrestle the boy back to the bed. It wasn’t the first time he’d patched him up after taking a beating. He was a tough kid, and while he looked worse for wear, he was already practically bouncing off the small, pod’s walls. Kitsu huffed and snatched the bacta patch out of Obi-Wan’s hands slapping it over the open gash along his throat and immediately regretting the action. “Well done,” Obi-Wan said dryly, handing him the damped rag he’d been using to clean the blood off of him. Kitsu dabbed at the drying blood around his nose and mouth as he made his way into the hall, wobbling slightly in the artificial gravity of the ship that didn’t exactly match that of Tatooine. He acted like he hadn’t nearly died at the hands of bounty hunters and this was just any other day.
Evie was examining a holomap of the system when they crossed the threshold of the cockpit. She seemed uncertain on what to say to Kitsu, but it hardly mattered. Kitsu only stared wide eyed out the view shield. Evie and Obi-Wan may as well not have even been there. A soft smile creased the corners of her eyes as Kitsu sunk heavily into the co-pilot seat, staring at the stars as if he’d never seen one. Seeing them from this arena was far different that staring up from a planet surface, he conceded. Obi-Wan had watched space from a ship’s cockpit more times to count, and even after being grounded for years the white dotted, black canvas was hardly awe inspiring. Not that he was watching anything beyond the pilot seat. In a rare moment Evie’s guard was down, watching Kitsu with a soft admiration and more than a little guilt. Neither of them deserved this he thought – a life on the run, constrained to the limits of their past. She’d looked miserable before, stumbling out of the pod after giving him the medkit. An innocent life had been put in danger because of her mere existence. Kitsu wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last, but it was a heavy weight to bare all the same. It was why he’d stayed in the dessert.
“Unfortunately, the hyperdrive is not quite as functional as one would hope,” Evie said, more to herself than anyone, as she punched in coordinates.
“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan was glad it was Kitsu who asked, avoiding the inevitability of Evie hearing the anxiety in his own tone had he been the one to raise the question. He didn’t like leaving Luke alone without having lined up any precautions in place, but he’d been too hard on Evie earlier and he’d yet had to opportunity to apologize. She would only hear him asking to be taken back to Tatooine, refusing to have any part in whatever trouble she had gotten herself in. His fingers brushed over the data stick in his pocket. He’d contemplated destroying it, if she wouldn’t listen to reason and use some self-preservation instincts then he at least could for her. But without knowing what was on it, what she had gone through to get it, it had felt like a betrayal of trust. Whatever she had was clearly important to more than just her.
“Well, it looks like you were nearly done, so we just need to find a port we can get to with what fuel we have where we can finish the work,” Evie told him. Obi-Wan looked at the holo over her shoulder, quiet until she started making ridiculous suggestions. “We may be able to get to Mon Gazza,” she murmured.
“That’s a Pyke controlled planet,” he said. The worst possible place they could go, or take Kitsu. For the first time since they’d boarded Evie turned to look him in the eye, the softness from moments ago now gone.
“I hate to be the one to remind you, but most of these Outer Rim territories are controlled by some thug or another, but I would rather take chances on a planet not controlled by the Empire.”
“There are plenty of options in the Outer Rim that don’t involve a planet run by a syndicate clan.”
“Yes, Christophsis is lovely this time of year,” she said with a tone far too pleasant. “And the Imperial presence just adds an essence of oppression that was really missing before.” Obi-Wan fought back an eyeroll. Her snark made his temper simmer.
“Are you really a Jedi?” Kitsu blurted out, stopping them both cold. It wasn’t that Obi-Wan feared Kitsu would do anything traitorous with the information, but it was dangerous knowledge to have. Evie grimaced, the slant of her nose scrunching as she realized the conversation had become unavoidable. It was enough of an answer for the now awestruck boy. “Holy bantha balls, you are!” He leaned forward eagerly. “Did you fight in the Clone Wars? Did you guys really try to overthrow the Emperor? Do you have a lightsaber?” Evie stole a glance his way and Kitsu stopped with the barrage, turning sharply to Obi-Wan. “You knew.” He waited on the boy to piece together the absent truth from the last few years. He’d never liked how easily the omission of truths came to him, handy as it had been in his lifetime. “Are you a Jedi too?” Evie snorted, spinning her seat around to continue to set a course for Mon Gazza despite Obi-Wan’s disapproval. Kitsu waited eagerly for one of them to answer.
“There are no Jedi,” Obi-Wan said after a long moment with a little more forcefulness than needed. The cabin atmosphere became heavy under the words. The age of the Jedi was past, and the darkness was suffocating those that were left. “Not anymore,” he added quietly. Evie cleared her throat, shaking the heavy moment off, but her normal edge was gone. Instead, there was a forced enthusiasm in her quick movements and a determined set to her shoulders.
“Just the Empire and every bounty hunter in the quadrant breathing down our necks.”
“Really?” Kitsu asked a bit too eagerly. Obi-Wan reluctantly followed suit, tugging at the corner of his beard as he thought through the angles of their dilemma. Kitsu peppered Evie with questions till his strained vocal chords could take no more. He refused to leave the cockpit, for fear of missing something grand, and was soon slumped over in the seat, asleep. Leaving Obi-Wan and Evie in their awkward silence. He spoke her name softly, hesitantly, but before he could continue she sharply turned and strode past him out of the cockpit like he wasn’t even there. With a sigh Obi-Wan followed her. Her stubbornness far surpassed his own, and he knew he would have to swallow his pride to clear the air or she would continue to push every one of his buttons until he stopped her.
“Evie, we need to talk,” he began again. She shoved a toolbox into his gut and kept going down the corridor, not waiting as he fumbled for a grip, the metal clanking and shifting in its casing.
“I will take you back to Tatooine, just give me a few days to sort things out. You’ll be back to your dessert isolation in no time.” The bitterness was palatable. He wished he could take back some of the things he’d said earlier. If there was ever someone that could force him outside his normal careful selection of actions and words it always seemed to be her. She always pushed him too far over the line.
“No, that isn’t it,” he faltered as he contemplated the most tactful way to approach his ever growing list of questions. She also was one of the only people to succeed in leaving him at a complete loss for words.
“I’m also really not interested in a lecture about the kid, either.” She interrupted his train of thought again and with a huff he set the toolbox down and spun her back to face him.
“Enough, tell me what’s going on.” This dance was nonsense in light of recent developments. Evie glared and tried to remove herself from his hand wrapped around her upper arm until he pulled the data stick from his pocket. Evie blinked rapidly.
“I figured you’d destroyed it.”
“I thought about it,” he confessed. She took it from him, no doubt fearful he may change his mind. She examined it, turning the small silver object over in her hands. “What’s on it?” He asked, gentler. Evie looked smug.
“Every Empire checkpoint, known and secret, across the system.”
“Why would you need that?”
“I don’t, they do,” she replied, as if he knew who they were. “Not everyone welcomed the Empire with open arms. And the more they sink their claws into the galaxy the more it seems to struggle.” She tapped the stick on the inside of her palm, carefully contemplating her next words. “There is a group, they help those the Empire will not. Either by smuggling them to other planets with better resources or hiding them.” Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “Jedi aren’t the only ones the Empire is hunting.” Obi-Wan felt deeply saddened by the idea that so much darkness had engulfed the galaxy in an instant. “Anyway, if they can avoid the Empire they have a higher chance of both helping people and surviving themselves.”
“How did you get your hands on it?”
“Why do you say it like that?” She tried to sound offended at his reasonable insinuation that this information should not have been accessible by a wanted Jedi.
“You aren’t known for your subtilty.” A wry smile tugged at her lips.
“I have my ways.” There it was again. The easy familiarity, lightening the burdens ever so slightly with naught but a small smile.
“I’m familiar,” he muttered and found himself drifting closer to her in the cramped hall. A moon drawn into her planetary orbit. “Do you know how to contact them?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions for someone that doesn’t want to help.” His brow knit, then dared bridge the gap, taking her face in his hand and turning her chin up to him, leaving no room for her to doubt his next words.
“I wouldn’t abandon you, Evie.” Again, was what he should have said, I wouldn’t abandon you again. He waited for her to chide him on his inconsistent stances over the last few hours, but her skepticism only turned into relief and the blast shield of an exterior she’d been keeping up, opened. Choosing to believe him and to let him in. Her forehead dropped to his chest first, then the rest of her melted into him. Ignoring the hesitancies that flashed like warning lights in the back of his mind he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter against him. They would have never dared show such affection so easily a few years ago, where anyone could see. But there was no one that cared now, no one but them. He smoothed the hair on the back of her head, letting her tuck herself beneath his chin. It was as if they were meant to fit together, their bodies as oppositely balanced as their personalities.
“Thank you,” she whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear. His eyes slid closed, briefly soaking in the feel of her, her scent, her energy, wishing the moment could last. But a piece of the ship screeched and then popped, as if on cue to remind him he deserved nothing as peaceful as Evie in his arms. She groaned, pressing her face into the rough fabric of his tunic, before stomping down the hall, grabbing a wrench from the toolbox. He followed her; heart strings still tangled with hers, tugging him along. He should sever them, stop the dangerous desire that her touch ignited and chipped away at a resolve of over twenty years. They were only ever meant to have moments, fleeting bouts of affection unhindered by attachment. After almost five years of thinking the other dead that should have been easier to keep than ever. But as he watched her work he couldn’t help but feel like it was so much harder to imagine losing her again.
“So, what was your plan,” he asked, trying to fill the silence. “Take these people this information in exchange for a new identity?” It struck him as an odd quest, especially given Evie’s resourcefulness. She wouldn’t need much help getting a new identity and starting over if she had wanted to. He had a very strong feeling that she didn’t, and her airy laugh from below only served to convince him further.
“Hardly, I like who I am too much for that; Jedi or not.” She threw her weight into cinching a bolt tight to stop a pipe from spewing steam. She was focused on her task, but there was an underlying sadness in her tone that he understood.
“So what were you going to do after turning this over to them, then?”
“I don’t plan that far ahead these days,” she said with less levity, pulling herself up to sit opposite him over the shaft. The heart strings tugged and impulsively he almost told her to come back to Tatooine, to stay with him, but he resisted. Besides, a small part of his mind refused to be silenced, reminding him of his responsibility to the boy and the weight he’d been shouldering for years that he refused to put on her. She wouldn’t be happy with him anyway, he couldn’t give her what she wanted, or even what she needed. But he could help her with this. “But,” she filled the silence, drawing his distant and wandering thoughts back to the present. “I do have a plan for not stranding us in the middle of space.”
“Mon Gazza?” He asked with a barely stifled sigh. Evie’s lip quirked at her subtle win.
“Mon Gazza.”
Obi-Wan had dealt with the Pykes enough times to know they were far more dangerous than many gave them credit for. They’d spent time colluding with the Black Sun Syndicate before a falling out, but their family was a force of its own and it had little need of support from the new faction during the Clone Wars. Their status hadn’t changed much since the rise of the Empire so far as he could tell from the whispers he picked up.
Obi-Wan watched Evie negotiate with the mechanic through the viewport. He’d hoped it would be a quick repair and they could be on their way within a few hours or less. The animated gestures Evie threw around followed by the showing of an extra credit pouch told him she wanted the same, but it would cost them.
“It’ll be a bit, may as well resupply in the city,” she said as she stepped back into the cockpit. Kitsu eyed the man that was counting Evie’s credits darkly.
“He over charged you,” he said, voice still rasping from the lacerations around his throat.
“I know,” Evie replied grimly.
“I could have fixed it,” he began and Evie laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a soft and reassuring smile.
“I’ve no doubt. But you’ve done enough.” He didn’t argue, caught off guard by the kindness. Obi-Wan had met the man Kitsu worked for and the others he often worked with. He wasn’t familiar with understanding or reprieve. Plus, when Evie looked at anyone that way they couldn’t help but believe her. “Besides, he’ll do it in half the time with those droids,” she added with a glance his way, appeasing a question he hadn’t even had a chance to think to ask.
“And with discretion, I assume?” Obi-Wan asked. Evie nodded once, but she didn’t seem confident.
The streets of the city were vibrant in color and crime. Obi-Wan hovered near Evie’s shoulder as they made their way deeper into the night life district, trying to keep a close watch on Kitsu who looked far too much like an outsider as he gaped at the tall buildings. Obi-Wan constantly scanned the loud and crowded main street of vendors for potential threats, pulling his cloak tighter around him as he did so, to ensure his blaster and lightsaber were hidden.
In another life, he could see himself and Evie being sent to a planet like this to gather information, or perhaps undercover to infiltrate a crime ring. They had seen and done much together, and yet he had never thought they’d find themselves in such bleak circumstances. Even Evie’s mission to return the data disc to a group that could use it for good seemed a thin beam of light in the darkness. Was anything they could do ever be enough in the face of the massive Empire and deep-rooted power of the Sith?
The sort of crowd Mon Gazza catered too became more evident the deeper into the city core Obi-Wan went. Tatooine saw its share of people avoiding the law, but he had been to plenty of gutters just like these too. An occasional pair of stormtroopers could be found patrolling and they mostly left everyone alone, but two checking chain codes, which none of them had, caused the three of them to quickly duck beneath a glowing sign with blue letters. They found themselves among the bustling nightlife of a club, even though Obi-Wan wasn’t certain it was quite that late in the day Evie moved toward the bar with a shrug anyway.
Obi-Wan brushed off a young girl that had tried to push some spice on him as he ventured about the room. The entire atmosphere of the city was dim, creating the illusion that there was nothing but the dark, damp corners or the colorful and loud bars, both of which had dealers at the ready, happy to offer reprieve from one’s worries.
The noise and bodies forced him to stand close to Evie at the bar or be jostled away in the throng. She signaled for the bar tender who sat three drinks of blue liquid in front of them. Obi-Wan’s chest pressed against her back as he reached around for the small glass. The scent of her hit him, even in the sensory overload of their surroundings. He knocked back the shot, the liquid strong and tingling at the back of his throat, clearing his senses and correcting his runaway thoughts. It was difficult to believe that just this morning she’d been leaning against the counter of his kitchen in nothing but his nightshirt.
“Is the plan simply to drink and wait, now?” He asked, leaning down close to her to be heard over the blaring instruments from the band on stage.
“Isn’t that your preferred tactic?” She needled, lips brushing his ear and sending a trill down his spine. How she managed to unravel and charm all while he knew she was hiding something, deflecting his questions, was beyond him.
“Very funny,” he muttered and yet accepted the second drink that sat before him, taking up the space that opened between her and Kitsu. He watched the room, imperial officers filtering in and out alongside drug deals with no altercation, and people with dead looks in their eyes.
“It’s like this everywhere,” Evie read his thoughts, answering what he was afraid to ask. “Worse in a way,” she added, pressing her lips together, tracing the rim of her glass with a delicate finger. “These places flourished during the war. Gangsters amassing power right under the noses of the Jedi.” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose, beginning to be offended, but it was true. While he’d been on plenty of missions to stop spice runners and slave traders it was true that the Jedi had been stretched very thin. It only made sense that organizations, like the ones the Pykes ran, had remained low on the list of priorities of, well, everyone. Therefore, giving them the opportunity to gather in the shadows and grow their empire. “Places like this aren’t so bad when you look at what the Empire did to the likes of Correllia and other colony planets, though.”
“I thought the Empire established peace?” Kitsu asked, leaning across the counter to address Evie. Obi-Wan blanched at the words and Evie looked to be debating on how she reacted to his genuine question. She couldn't blame him for his ignorance, but her scars, like Obi-Wan's, went deep.
“The Empire’s peace is an illusion,” she said, unable to keep the disgust from her voice. Obi-Wan glanced about the room, painfully aware of the two men in uniforms across the bar with imperial insignias and how exposed the three of them were.
“Evie,” he cautioned.
“He should know the truth,” she snapped at him.
“Not here,” he replied slowly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder, pleading with her to be cautious. She screwed up her mouth as if tasting something sour, then nodded once in acquiescence her sharp eyes noting the officers as well.
"Come on," she said suddenly, spinning back to the door.
"Where are we going?" Kitsu asked, catching up to her first. Obi-Wan could feel the ice in Evie's tone.
"To show you what the Empire's peace looks like."
Chapter 6
Notes:
Hello there. . . Had to do some outlining. Had some other projects. Shall we see what trouble Evie and Obi-Wan find themselves in now?
Chapter Text
Maybe it was cruel, it was certainly manipulative, but Evie needed to nudge him in the right direction to see things more clearly. He had promised he wouldn’t abandon her to her self-assigned mission alone. It should have been enough for her, she knew, but it just wasn’t the same as choosing to do something himself. For the briefest moment she thought maybe, as usual, she was going to push him too far, but when Kitsu broached the topic of the Empire and their propaganda of peace, the opportunity was too easy. She didn’t know what this incessant urge was that she’d felt since last night to snap Kenobi out of the stupor he seemed to be in. They had always been able to push each other, to draw out the best, and worst, parts. But it seemed she was losing her touch. Surviving had made her cold. Although, she hadn’t felt cold in his arms. In that moment, alone in the belly of her ship, she had thought he would ask her to return to the dessert planet with him. Part of her had held her breath, hoping, even if she would have said no. Just to know he’d wanted to keep her close would have been something. But now she feared that just as quickly as he’d pulled her in, she was going to push him away.
The two men followed her to a different part of the city, where they could overlook a landing platform, and were now crouching behind freight skiffs as she bid them. Too late she wondered if she was even ready to sit by and watch helpless people be taken advantage of again. She was aware enough of the deal the Pykes had struck with the Empire: prisoners for spice mine labor, but it was never easy to see the injustice. Some of them were actual criminals, but most of them had just gotten on the wrong side of the Empire. Regardless, no one deserved to be relegated to slave labor in the mines. Two months in the mines on Kessel had nearly broken her, and she’d been undercover with backup and had far more tools of discipline and peace at her disposal.
Stormtroopers filed down the ramp to meet a handful of hired guns, some of them she recognized, having crossed paths with them. “When I said ‘not here’ I didn’t mean I preferred to be arrested by different stormtroopers,” Obi-Wan hissed. She shushed him, indicating he should keep an eye on the ship across the way. She was acutely aware of how close they were again. He seemed to think nothing of invading her personal space while she was struggling to keep her focus on the present every time he touched her. She shifted, annoyed with her out of control feelings, then rolled her eyes when it only seemed to move him closer.
Evie’s regrets only intensified the instant the first line of prisoners were led single file off the transport. Kitsu let out a soft gasp that had her heart aching. The youngest of them had to be sixteen, practically a child, while others looked like they could barely manage the shuffle across the deck without support. It was so easy these days to let anger overwhelm her. Forcing her fists to uncurl she breathed deep, reminding herself that she knew coming here that there was nothing she could do for them. Yet.
They watched in a tense silence as the people were traded from one group to the next. Evie counted twenty. Rebellious against her attempt at calm, her mind began to whirl with possible accidents that could befall their convey on the way to the mines. But then there would be a bunch of scared refugees on a strange planet that was not meant for the faint of heart. Plus, there were the four well-armed guards, and their leader. She did a double take on the man with dark hair that waited off to the side, refusing to engage directly with the Imperial officer that merely nodded at him from across the platform then returned to his ship, flanked by the stormtroopers. That face was little too familiar, she thought, and the danger of the situation seemed to instantly multiply.
“We need to go,” she said, rising and assessing their exit to ensure it was still clear.
“We have to help them,” Kitsu exclaimed with a shocking determination. Obi-Wan gave her a withering look but she was determined they have this disagreement elsewhere.
“We can’t,” she said gently, but Kitsu jolted as if he’d been smacked.
“Of course we can, you’re both Jedi, that’s what you do. Give me a blaster, I can fight too, it’s only five of them.” Evie held her breath a moment, waiting for Obi-Wan to step in, to acquiesce and assess the situation, if he hadn’t already. But by the way he kept his eyes down she got the sense he was far from ready for any sort of real fight. The scuffles over the last few hours had been quick and unavoidable, to engage now would be an announcement. Whoever pulled a hasty job like Kitsu was suggesting, freeing twenty slaves traded from the Empire to one of the most powerful crime families would undoubtably be tracked down. It would mean the galaxy at large knowing that Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive. She hadn’t expected him to take the risk, she didn’t even know if she would with people that could identify her on sight, but she couldn’t help but hope for some spark all the same. “You help people,” he turned, almost pleading to Obi-Wan who wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“We can’t draw attention to ourselves,” Evie said finally, feeling the same guilt that was etched into every one of Obi-Wan’s features. Kitsu stood quickly, causing her to brace instinctively as the young man looked ready to lash out, conflicting feelings warring within him.
“You want to blame the Empire for that, but the truth is I see no difference.” He breathed sharply through his nose as he jabbed a finger back at the platform. “What was the excuse when it was happening under the Republic?” Evie felt the color drain from her face as he looked down his nose at her, lips turned sharply downward. “Was it too risky then? Or was is just that it was more important to serve the politics than actual people?”
“That’s not true,” Evie began unsteadily, feeling like she’d been sucker punched and couldn’t catch her breath.
“But it is. We were alone then. We’re alone now.” He shoved past her before the disappointment catching in his throat overwhelmed him. Obi-Wan stood slowly, wiping his palms against each other as he watched Kitsu storm off.
“Let him go,” he told her before she could go after him. The reality was she was rooted to the spot. Stopped dead in her tracks, speechless. “Kitsu lost most of his family to Tuskan Raiders when he was young,” Obi-Wan began with a sigh. Some scavengers picked up him and his sister and sold them into slavery.” Evie’s stomach plummeted to her feet. It was easy to forget how coarse the Outer Rim still was. “After she died, he bought his freedom. I’m not sure how. Then he tried to get revenge on the men that caused it. The ones that sold them.”
“The spice runners,” she breathed, remembering the story he’d told her about meeting Obi-Wan. “Why didn’t,” she began, unable to finish her thought before Obi-Wan’s expression hardened.
“Because I promised I would help you. And I thought that would be enough. I didn’t think you’d try to shove your vendetta against the Empire down our throats,” he snapped.
“My vendetta?” Before they could drop into familiar territory the sound of weapons clicking drew their attention immediately. Both of them fell into tense ready positions.
“Torre, I thought that was you.” Ares Ambretta’s tone was boisterous and warm, at odds with the hard features and blaster he pointed at her. He stepped in, draping an armor padded arm over her shoulders, hugging her close to his side, pinning her blaster against between their legs. Evie stiffened, as he leaned close, lips pressed to her ear. “You make one wrong move I put a blaster bolt in your gut darling,” he growled in her ear. Obi-Wan’s dark expression clocked the four other men that cornered them, his hand slowly inching for his blaster. She hoped Kitsu had stayed wherever he had disappeared to. “Ah, ah,” Ares tutted at Obi-Wan, jabbing his blaster hard into her side to emphasize his point. “And here I thought you preferred to work alone.” He cocked his chin at the man closest to Obi-Wan who snatched the blaster from his holster.
“No, I just prefer to not work with you,” she bit out. Ares huffed a laugh as he took her blaster. She’d taken a few jobs with less than admirable people in the immediate years after the fall. Mostly because it was easier to give them fake names and ask for anonymity, so long as she paid the price. She and Ares had fallen into league after a job they both took on Ord Mandell. He was self-serving and rough, and they’d never fully trusted the other, but they’d had an understanding and they’d worked well together — until they didn’t.
“You don’t happen to have that laser sword on you by any chance, do you?” He asked in a lower tone, ignoring the jab as he ran his free hand along her hips and midsection without invitation, looking for the weapon she’d left stashed on her ship. A weapon she regretted he ever knew she had. “Check him.” Ares cocked his head toward Obi-Wan, keeping her in his line of sight. Obi-Wan looked murderous but he mirrored her as she lifted her hands. She had an idea, he would hate it, it was reckless and not very thought out, but Ares wouldn’t underestimate her, so their window to act was small.
The humanoid with yellow eyes shoved Obi-Wan’s cloak aside, revealing the blaster and lightsaber that hung on his belt. Evie cocked her head in question. For a man intent on not fighting, he surely was prepared for it. She couldn’t figure out where his head was. Maybe even he didn’t know where his head was.
“What have we here?” Ares mused, turning his attention to Obi-Wan who was now infinitely more interesting than a second before. “Holding this for a friend?” He asked, hefting the lightsaber, casting a glance over his shoulder at her. Let him think it is hers. Better that she took the focus, seeing as she was prepared for the risk. Ares was smart but he didn’t pay enough attention during their time together to know the hilt of a Jedi’s lightsaber was distinct and personal. Obi-Wan glared. “Or your another one,” Ares speculated. “Either way,” he hooked the lightsaber to his own belt and snapped his fingers which prompted two of his men to grab Obi-Wan to restrain him. Ares turned back to her.
“You work for the Pykes now?” She snapped, wanting to keep his attention on her.
“I work for whoever pays me. And you’re quite the going rate I hear.” Evie flicked her eyes to the containers to Obi-Wan’s left. He looked uncertain of what exactly was going through her mind, or maybe just uncertain of her plans all together. It was amazing how trying to remain inconspicuous limited one’s options for attack, at least when it came to the options available to them.
“Well, I am one of a kind,” she said with a sharp grin before she reached out with the Force, lifting the stack of containers just enough to drag them forward, causing them all to turn as two of the men that had closed in were scattered by them. She lunged at Ares, landing a blow across his jaw the same time Obi-Wan threw an elbow back at yellow eyes. They could do this, they’d fought their way out of tighter spots in the past.
The smoke of spice and debrief kicked up around them, adding to the chaos. She hadn’t realized they were filled, even though she probably should have. Her connection with the Force was a bit spotty of late.
Half blind and choking on spice she blocked a few blows from Ares before she managed to knock the blaster from his hand. Obi-Wan tried to fight while covering his face to breathe in less of the hallucinogenic. Ducking below Ares’ attempt to grab her she reached for the lightsaber, but he was fast and wrapped a hand in her hair, wrenching her head back so hard she went to her knees with a yelp. He pulled up his own filtration mask with his free hand. Evie’s lungs began to burn. Through the red mist she saw Obi-Wan with a blaster pointed at them, at Ares. In the same instance she registered the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber, the blue blade humming in Ares’ hand.
“I don’t need to know how to use this to know what it can do to her,” Ares’ voice was tinny through his mask, but the threat clear. She could feel the heat of the blade near her face, but everything in her vision was becoming a red and blue glowing blur. “That spice works fast, friend.” Through the haze she could tell Obi-Wan was unsteady on his feet, the lines of concentration deep in his features. There wasn’t a chance to decide on his course of action, the men Ares had with him had placed their masks over their noses, breathing clean air and able to think straight, and were closing in on him. They attacked in unison and with a quick blow to the back of the head Obi-Wan crumbled to the ground unconscious. Her mind was becoming addled by the drug already, and she had to repeat to herself that he wasn’t dead. Fear clawed at her throat as she lost sight of him, knowing in some recess of her mind Ares was man handling her away from the scene. He would take them to an Inquisitor, she thought. Obi-Wan had warned her against this, why hadn’t she listened? They hadn’t even lasted a day before getting caught. Maybe they were both better off alone.
She renewed her struggle against Ares as he forced something into her mouth. “Bite down,” he ordered her and when she didn’t he gripped her jaw, clamping her teeth together. A packet of some kind burst open in the back of her mouth and her senses surged back to her. She gasped at the sensation, the rush through her veins. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribcage as she came back into her body, her sense of awareness and reality returning she realized they were in the mostly empty cargo bay of a small ship. Ares was crouched over her. “Breathe, blondie,” he told her, a hand on her shoulder, keeping her upright where she sat against the wall. She forced herself to calm down, breathing in and out through her nose, as she tried to gather her thoughts about what game Ares was playing. “A precaution,” he said in response to the scowl she gave him when she realized her wrists were bound. “I know how you get,” he tweaked her chin and Evie jerked away. She didn’t like being reminded he knew anything about her. “Don’t be like that,” he purred, dropping his voice, “We both know I could be turning you over to the Empire.” Evie tried to swallow past a dry throat. She could still taste the acrid grit of the spice in her mouth.
“Aren’t you? Her voice was rough. Ares’ jaw went tight.
“I wouldn’t help those imperialist dogs with anything,” he replied harshly.
“Just take their prisoners as slaves, right?”
“It’s not my deal, I’m just the muscle here.”
“Telling yourself that help you sleep at night?” She snarled. He examined her for a moment.
“Didn’t seem to help you.” Her neck flushed at the insinuation, the familiarity, and she impulsively tried at the restraints. An electric shock carried up her arms, seizing her body till her back arched off the wall and she cried out. Ares smirked.
“Oh yeah, the more you struggle,” he lifted her shackled wrists with a leather gloved hand in front of her face, “the worse off you are.” They had tightened, bringing her hands closer together. “So you go right on trying, sweetheart.”
“Where are taking us?” She snapped, feeling the rumble of the ship’s engine beneath her.
“That all depends on why you’re here.”
“Taking in the sights.” She didn't have a good lie for why, and she certainly couldn't tell the truth. Ares yanked her arm down causing the restraints to tighten. Evie roared as a jolt of electricity ran through her.
“Keep it up with that smart mouth and I’ll make your friend suffer for it next.” Evie was suddenly hyper aware that she didn’t know where Obi-Wan was. As if sensing her rising panic Ares pivoted slightly to give her a line of sight to Obi-Wan, unconscious on the other side of the cargo bay, hands bound like hers. Twenty slaves huddled against the wall behind him. Was he taking them to the mines? “Doesn’t look like much. Don’t tell me you left me for dead just so you could fly with the likes of him?”
“I did not leave you for dead.” She rolled her eyes. “You had a comm, food, and water.” Her mind was scrambling for a plan, Ares may not turn them over to the Empire but he would certainly want revenge on her. What little trust they had placed in the other before had been mutually assured destruction, and she had hit the detonator first.
“Last chance, why are you here?”
“Bite me.” His lip twitched upward before falling flat again. Then his hand lashed out, a back hand so hard across her face it sent her sideways. He grabbed her collar, righting her as her vision tunneled. Another current of electricity ripped through her. It should have been enough, Obi-Wan's word should have been enough, she thought, before everything went dark.
Vanafindiel on Chapter 1 Sat 16 Apr 2022 05:29PM UTC
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HopeOfQueens on Chapter 1 Fri 13 May 2022 10:18PM UTC
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Vanafindiel on Chapter 2 Tue 19 Apr 2022 11:30AM UTC
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atrueslutforspacejesus on Chapter 2 Wed 20 Apr 2022 07:24AM UTC
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VermilionWinter on Chapter 4 Tue 14 Jun 2022 11:52AM UTC
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MaestroMommy (Guest) on Chapter 5 Sun 21 May 2023 03:09AM UTC
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Charlie98 (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 29 May 2023 09:18PM UTC
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