Battered and Bruised: Chapter I
(Un)friendly Encounters
Summary: It’s two years after the Clone Wars ended with the fall of the Jedi Order. As the First Sister, it is your duty to hunt down the Jedi that remain in the galaxy after The Purge. On what you believe is just another ordinary mission, you encounter your former best friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi and memories of your past come flooding back. After believing that he betrayed you and left you to die, will you kill him to get your revenge? Or will your feelings for him rekindle under unexpected circumstances?
Pairing: Inquisitor!Reader x Obi-Wan Kenobi
Word Count: 3,129
Warnings: some violence. decapitation. death. negative thoughts. (reader is v sad)
Note: Hi everyone! This is my first SW fic, so go easy on me! Feedback would be very helpful as I go on with this series! :) I’ve been wanting some more Obi content right after Order 66 lately, so I decided to make it come to life. Reader is an inquisitor, so beware of slow burn, untold feelings, and a bit of angst! Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged! Enjoy!
The heat from the twin suns of Tatooine radiates off your black attire as you hop out of the top of your TIE fighter. You jump off your ship and when you land, the sand around you dusts up towards your eyes, but your helmet protects your face.
You hate this planet. There is nothing about it to like. It’s barren, hot, and full of uncivilized scum who’d do anything for credits. The last time you were here, you came as a Jedi Master at the start of the Clone Wars to negotiate for safe passage for Republic ships through the Outer Rim Territories.
Sighing internally, you make a mental note to make this visit quick. With your cape flowing behind you, you make your way over to the entrance of Jabba’s Palace. This time, not as a Jedi Master, but as the First Sister instead.
One of Jabba’s droids waits for you at the entrance of the palace. You give it the password and it accepts it, making a high-pitched beep sound. Waiting patiently, you wait for the door to open, but it doesn’t quite yet.
“No weapons allowed in the throne room.” It says, voice monotone. “The door will not open and you will not be permitted to enter until your weapons are given to me.”
You grudgingly call both of your sabers to your gloved hands with the Force and place them in the tray that flaps out of the droid’s rusting torso. “If I so much as see a scratch on them by the time we’re done here, I’ll throw you in an incinerator myself.”
“No need for threats, Inquisitor. They will be right here the whole time.” The droid says, opening the door and wheeling away from you. “Follow me.”
The throne room has not changed since your last visit. It’s still as grimy and dreadful as you remember. You didn’t think it was possible for Jabba to look even more slimy and disgusting, but here he is, more than surpassing your expectations.
He couldn’t even bother to be awake for your arrival? Disgraceful.
“Jabba! Glad to see that you are excited to be in my presence.” You state, sarcasm oozing from your words. You move to stand in the center of the room and all eyes fall on you.
He awakens suddenly and stares at you with his big, grotesque eyes. He slurs out a jumble of words you don’t understand and you wait for his protocol droid to translate, but a man to the right of Jabba does instead.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Inquisitor?” The man says smoothly, narrowing his eyes at you.
“I came here to speak with Jabba. Who are you?”
“I am Plin Fazabar, one of Jabba’s negotiators.” He says with a smirk. “It’s quite rude to have a conversation with a helmet on, don’t you think? Why don’t you take it off and let us see if the rumors of the First Sister’s beauty are true.”
“I don’t have time for this.” You say, struggling to hold back the annoyance in your tone. “You reached out to the Imperial Inquisition to make a trade for intel on the whereabouts of a Jedi survivor. I’ve come for that intel. Why don’t we make this trade swift, yeah?”
“Oh, don’t be hasty, Inquisitor. What’s the rush? You’re not enjoying this quality time together?” Jabba’s droid translates while the Hutt chuckles.
“Are you afraid of being alone in a room full of crime lords and bounty hunters?” Fazabar adds, outwardly mocking you. You exhibit restraint to kill him right then and there.
“Afraid of what I may do if you don’t give me what I want, yes. Slightly.”
Fazabar hums and crosses his arms. “And how much would you pay for this information?”
“We agreed on 8,000 credits. The Empire will pay you generously.”
The tattooed man looks at Jabba before he nods. “Yes, yes.” He sighs before continuing. “There have been whispers of a hooded man in a cloak that looks eerily familiar to one a Jedi would wear. He was last seen at a cantina in Mos Eisley, where there are rumors of… a bit of an incident with a blue-colored laser sword.
Your fists clench with anger and your jaw tenses before you speak up.
“You mean to tell me that I came all this way, to a planet full of nothing, for rumors?”
“You should be thankful we gave you the information before we received our payment. Perhaps we should charge you double if you are not going to be grateful for our offering.” Fazabar walks over to the droid who holds your weapons. Your eyes follow his every step.
“Now, I know you most likely did not come prepared with 16,000 credits, but I’ll tell you what. Jabba and I are going to cut you a deal, aren’t we Jabba?” The Hutt grunts in agreement and the creatures that surround him laugh. “Why don’t we keep your lightsabers as a fair bargain and call it a day. They would more than cover the cost: military grade, custom durite metal… These are unlike any other Inquisitor saber I’ve seen or heard of. I’m sure they are worth a fortune. Tell me, Inquisitor. How many Jedi have you killed with these blades?”
Fazabar picks up one of your sabers and runs his fingers over the hilt lightly. You feel your anger well up inside you.
You narrow your eyes and lick your lips, looking around the room before your piercing gaze settles on the man. “21.”
“Well, that is an incredible feat! Maybe the lightsabers are much too sentimental for you to trade. I’m sure we can work out a different type of payment. One that would involve a bed and the absence of your helmet.”
He can’t see your expression behind the mask of your helmet, but if looks could kill, he’d already be 10 feet under.
Plin sends you a dark, twisted smile but before he can get another word out, you use the Force to pull him towards you by his throat, choking him. Simultaneously, you call the lightsaber he holds to your right hand. Releasing your Force hold on his throat, you allow him to breathe again and roughly grab Fazabar’s shoulder to make him turn and face Jabba while you ignite your red blade and bring it up to his throat.
The room goes silent and the bounty hunters that were lurking around earlier raise their blasters and point them in your direction. At this point, Fazabar’s demeanor has completely changed. You can’t see his face, but you can feel the fear radiating off of him.
Not caring about the blasters trained on you, you lean forward to murmur in Fazabar’s ear. “You didn’t really mean any of that, did you?”
Suddenly, Jabba starts to laugh and your eyes snap over to him over the man’s shoulder.
“What’s so funny, Jabba?” You ask darkly. “Did I miss a joke?”
The protocol droid translates what he says. “Surely, you’re not stupid enough to kill him in a room full of bounty hunters.”
“Surely, you’re not ignorant enough to try and scam an Imperial Inquisitor.” You spit, glaring at him.
Without tearing your eyes from Jabba, you push Fazabar into the red blade of your lightsaber, decapitating the man in a smooth, swift motion.
Gasps can be heard around the room and the bounty hunters tense up, waiting for Jabba to make the call to shoot. Their fingers itch to pull their triggers, but the call doesn’t come.
You call your second saber to you, and clip it to your belt. Keeping the other saber ignited, you pull out a sack of credits and throw it to the translator droid.
“This is only half of the original amount!”
Keeping your attention around you, you make sure you’re able to defend yourself at any moment. You begin to walk out of the room. Before you exit, you state, “You’ll get the other half when I kill the Jedi.”
And with that, you take your leave.
Jabba yells in anger, garbling something.
The translator droid says, “Initiate protocol 757.”
The bounty hunters in the room nod. One of them presses a transmitter on his wrist.
__________________
You’ve got to give it to Fazabar. The intel he gave you is accurate. There is a Jedi in Mos Eisley… you could feel it. His presence in the Force is faint, but it’s there. Something about it feels familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.
You’ve been tailing the Jedi through Mos Eisley, so when he gets in his rusty, run-down speeder and travels to a scrap yard on the edge of the port city, you follow at a distance. Silently, you watch the cloaked man hop out of his speeder from the top of a building nearby. As he walks towards the scrap yard, he takes a second to pause and check his surroundings.
The twin suns hang low in the sky as you wait for him to move on. You jump down from the building when he’s a good distance away and continue to tail him through the scrap yard as he looks for spare parts. You assume they are for his speeder since it looks like it’s about to break down at any moment.
As you get closer to the Jedi, his force signature grows stronger, but you can tell that he’s trying to conceal his presence as much as possible. He must have been a Jedi Knight or Master, judging from his ability to do this.
You patiently wait for the right moment to strike as you hide behind an old wrecked LAAT Gunship.
Suddenly, you feel a whoosh of emotions come over you as the concealed Force presence now intoxicates you. Your breath catches in your throat and you close your eyes as you struggle to push back your feelings as quickly as possible.
Flashbacks of your past flood your mind, overwhelming you. Feelings of pain, betrayal, laughter, sadness, and love all fill your senses at the same time, overwhelming you. Voices in your head begin to overlap.
“Master Y/L/N and I will be able to handle Grievous. We make a great team.”
“I see you decided to take a page out of Anakin’s book. That was reckless, Y/N! You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“You and me on a mission together again, Kenobi? I’m starting to think you’re swaying the council just to get a little more quality time with me.”
“Y/N! I’ve got you. Grab my other hand. No!”
Your eyes snap open and you take a deep breath.
“Obi-Wan.” You whisper to yourself.
You don’t let yourself dwell on your past for too long. Your fists clench when you’re reminded of what Obi-Wan and the Jedi Order did to get you to the point where you are today. They are traitors, the lot of them. And Obi-Wan is no different, as much as you once wanted to believe he was.
You hear boots hitting the dirt from a distance and a voice brings you back to reality.
The Jedi lowers his hood and shouts out, “Reveal yourself. I’m afraid you are not as stealthy as you think you are.”
You finally step out from the shadows and Obi-Wan’s eyes watch you, studying your every move.
He hasn’t changed a bit. Save for his slightly longer hair and beard, he looks exactly the same since you last saw him. When he let you fall to your presumed death. He’s still as handsome as you remember, but The Purge hadn’t done him any good. You can see the deep sadness in his eyes and you know by looking into them that he barely rests.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” You drawl, your helmet distorting your voice slightly. “You haven’t changed since our last encounter.”
He looks at you wearily before he cocks his head. “I’m quite embarrassed. I don’t seem to recall your name, how rude of me. Remind me of who you are again?”
So his wit surely is still intact.
He removes his cloak, revealing his robes and lightsaber hilt attached to his belt. You wonder when he used it last. You take a few steps closer to him, but keep your distance.
“They call me the First Sister. I’m the first of my kind, trained in the ways of the Dark Side by Lord Sidious and your fallen apprentice.” You state and you two circle around each other. “My Sisters and Brothers answer to me.”
Sadness flashes in Obi-Wan’s eyes at the mention of Anakin. “So, the rumors about the Imperial Jedi hunters are true, I presume.”
“They are indeed.” You chuckle darkly. “You had to have known you’d encounter one eventually, Master Kenobi. I sincerely hope, for your sake, that your lightsaber skills are still sharp.”
“I’m afraid you never answered my question. Who are you and why do you speak to me like you know me?”
You know the time to reveal yourself has come. Your hands reach up to take hold of your helmet and you pull it off slowly.
Obi-Wan watches with curiosity and as your face is revealed, inch by inch, his expression shifts to one of shock and heartbreak.
“Y/N…” He whispers and his body freezes, tensing up. “I thought you were dead.”
You smirk at him. “In a way, I am. Y/N Y/L/N, the Jedi Master who was loyal to the Order was weak and I replaced her with someone who is stronger and more powerful than she could ever be.”
He starts to shake his head slowly and the wind blows a tuft of his auburn hair to his forehead. “No… no, I watched you die on Utapau. You were shot and you fell to your death.”
“Believe what you want, Kenobi, but it’s not going to change the fact that you turned away your apprentice and your best friend. Nothing will change that!” Two years of pent up anger and hate flood through your system and fuel your every move.
Noticing your increasing aggression towards him, his eyes widen. “Let us talk about this. This is not who you are, Y/N.”
You laugh humorlessly. “Always the negotiator.”
You call your lightsabers to your hands and ignite them, the red light from the blades illuminating your face.
“Don’t do this, Y/N.” Obi-Wan begs, his blue eyes plead with yours. “Please. I do not wish to fight you.”
“Then this will be easy.”
You get into your fighting stance, your eyes not leaving his figure.
“You leave me no choice.” Obi-Wan says, broken and defeated. He unclips his saber from his belt and illuminates it.
You are the first to strike and both of your sabers strike against Kenobi’s. Blue and red clash together as you two move with grace and precision, an equal match for each other. You always were.
The power dynamic shifts back and forth, but you can tell that Obi-Wan is holding back.
“Why do you hold back, Kenobi? Are you afraid?” You spit out when your lightsabers are locked. “Don’t want to be responsible for my actual death?”
“You must know that I did everything I could to save you! I couldn’t stop Order 66 or you getting shot, but I still blame myself for it everyday!”
“You could have come back to see if I survived the fall, but you didn’t!” You push him back with the Force to create distance. “The Empire saved me instead!”
“I wanted to, but I couldn’t!” Obi-Wan yells, trying to plead his case. His beautiful blue eyes start to well up with tears. “I had to stop Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side. I did—”
You cut him off by reaching your hand out to Force choke him. His feet slightly lift off the ground as tears fill your eyes.
“Yeah? Well, how’d that work out for you?”
Obi-Wan is finally at your mercy after two years of wanting him to pay for what he did. After two years of resenting his existence and taking your anger out on killing other Jedi and force-sensitives. You were trained to use the anger you had towards him as power, and you wanted to cause him as much pain as he caused you, but...
As much as you want vengeance, you just… can’t find it in yourself to finish him. Your feelings for him before The Purge came flooding back the moment you saw him and now, it’s making you weak.
You release your hold on his throat and he drops to the ground, but Obi-Wan had already flung a large piece of scrap towards you in defense. You couldn’t move in time and it hits you full on, knocking you to the ground and your lightsabers out of your hands.
You groan in pain as you fade in and out of consciousness. Struggling profusely, you try to get up and wobble on your feet, but fail to stand straight. Falling back to the ground, you attempt to drag yourself towards one of your lightsabers. You have no idea where Kenobi went, but you know you need to defend yourself.
Suddenly, there is creaking heard from above you. The tall pile of scrap a short distance away is beginning to crumble. Kenobi must have removed the perfect amount of scrap to make the whole thing tumble down.
As the pile starts to loom over you, you know, deep down that you won’t be able to make it a safe distance away. You could barely stand. So, instead of running, you decide to drop to your knees and close your eyes, your lightsabers lying forgotten in the sand. You welcome the death that awaits you. Maybe you deserve it, after all. You’ve done so much wrong by killing Jedi and innocent force sensitives across the galaxy. Years of letting your fear, hate, and anger drive your actions are finally catching up to you. Maybe, just maybe, after enduring all the pain and suffering in your life, you’ll finally find peace. Maybe peace isn’t a lie.
You jolt at the feel of strong arms starting to drag your body across the sand. You open your eyes and stare at the night sky to try and register what’s going on. Turning, you see Obi-Wan’s face etched in pain and concern.
“No,” you mumble. “Don’t touch me.”
You try to pull away from him and drag your heels into the sand, but he stops to pick you up over his shoulder and runs to safety. Struggling against him, you finally wriggle free and drop to the ground on your hands and knees.
“What in the blazes do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get kriffing killed?!” Kenobi yells as the scrap pile crashes behind you, old fuel tanks exploding from the impact. The orange light from the glow falls on both of your faces.
“Get away from me!” You yell, slow to get up. You didn’t have any energy in you to push him back with the Force. You're finally able to stand on your feet, swaying a bit as you try to catch your balance.
“Y/N, please let me—”
Obi-Wan suddenly stops talking as a light thump emits from behind him. His eyes droop closed as his body starts to go limp and fall forward.
Witnessing this, your eyes widen as you see a dart in the back of Kenobi’s neck. You quickly glance around (your head spinning) and with newfound adrenaline, you call Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to you for defense and press the emergency communicator on your left forearm. Milliseconds later, you feel a slight pinch in your neck and you quickly remove the sharp object, but it’s too late. You feel the effects of the dart begin to take their toll, numbing your body and making your vision go black.