angstpril day 18
alt prompt used: Held Hostage
ao3
It's been three days since his padawan vanished into thin air during their mission on Lothal, and he finally has a hint of a lead.
Granted, calling it a lead is a bit of a stretch. It's a vague combination of a threat and offer in a dingy bar, from a man that seemed to know both his name, know of his padawan, and have a vague idea of his date of disappearance. So, it could be a lead.
Or a trap.
He meets him in the alleyway anyways, saber hidden away out of sight. It's not like he has much of a choice.
"Kenobi," the man acknowledges. "Come with me."
They walk to their destination in silence. The man isn't one for small talk and—after these three days, neither is Obi-wan. It'd be wise to poke and prod for more information, he knows, but he simply doesn't have the patience right now. He needs to find his padawan and get them off of this planet, the sooner the better.
He has a bad feeling about this.
They stop at the entrance to a backroom, after many twists and turns. The placement of people—guards rings a bell and—
It's a crime lord. Of course. Just his luck.
"His name is Vizago," the man says neutrally. "Best keep your head down.”
Obi-wan bristles at that. He's a Jedi, not a dog—
They enter.
"A visitor," booms a voice from the center of the room. The crowd shifts and turns to watch. A Devaronian—that must be Vizago—sits on a dais and watches them lazily. "We've been expecting you, Master Kenobi."
"I can't say the same," he says, forcing himself to keep his tone light, "I'm afraid you've rather caught me by surprise."
Vizago laughs. A loud, booming laugh that sends chills up his spine. The crowd awkwardly titters.
"I heard," the Devaronian says, shifting back in his seat, "that you were looking for your Padawan, Master Kenobi."
What do you know about my Padawan, he wants to snap, but he holds his tongue. He's on unknown ground, here. Best not to antagonize.
"You heard correctly," he says neutrally, careful not to give anything away. "I'm curious to know how you came about that information."
"From an old friend," Vizago says, unfazed. "I was hoping we could be of aid to each other, Master Kenobi."
Obi-wan looks around. The more time they spend in the atrium, the more exposed he feels. "Then perhaps we should move to a quieter setting."
*
They're in a back room now; him, Vizago, and a few guards. They've taken his saber—which, really, he ought to have expected. He feels even uneasier than before.
"You see, Master Kenobi," the Devaronian continues, and Obi-wan wants to strangle him for not getting to the point faster, for not giving him what he came for— "I run a bit of honest business, here, but unfortunately your Republic has rather robbed me of my profits these past few months.”
"You need credits."
Vizago clicks his tongue. "Smart man."
"And what," Obi-wan says, "does this have to do with my padawan?"
"Everything," Vizago says. "Kenobi, this has everything to do with your padawan."
"You see," he continues, leaning forward. "I am a generous man. Thanks to your padawan, I find myself in possession of a way to pay back my debts. But I thought it fair to offer you the chance to provide me with an alternative means, so that we might all walk away satisfied."
He's on his feet before he even knows it, lightsaber flying into his hands from the other end of the room. The guard holding it scrambles backwards; the rest of them point their blasters at him almost in unison. "You have Anakin."
"Put the weapon down, Kenobi." Vizago hisses, gesturing for the guards to stop forward. "Or I will have to resort to much less diplomatic means for this conversation."
"You don't think I can take your men?" Obi-wan bites out coldly. That will be the last mistake Vizgao ever makes. If this man has touched so much as a hair on Anakin's head, Obi-wan will—
"I have no doubt of your abilities, Master Jedi. I doubt, however, that you will much appreciate your padawan joining us for this conversation."
Oh.
Ice floods his veins. Like a puppet on strings, Obi-wan lowers his weapon. "Where is he? What have you done to him?"
"Nothing that can't be healed, Kenobi." The Devaronian says, eyes cold and flinty.
"Yet."
