An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Obi-Wan could smell it before he even thought of lowering his shields enough to feel it. It is the tangy and coppery smell of blood. The Temple is drenched in it and even though it no longer flows, he can nearly see it flowing down the columns and steps, once beautiful and magnificent. Once home. There is fire and blood, smoke that fills his lungs until he feels he can no longer breathe.
There are corpses everywhere he turns, he cannot escape the sight. The clones had not done anything with the bodies, they had just shot elderly, sick, teachers, children and younglings, in the back and moved on to shoot another and another and another. His stomach was rolling in continuous waves and his feelings are nothing but nauseous.
He has seen many battles, many fields strewn with bodies of both the enemy and the innocent. Has seen his own men across these fields, fighting to protect those who cared very little for them. Fighting and dying in defense of the innocence on the planet they happened to be on, shielding them from mortars and blaster fire. Countless shot, blasted, crushed, ripped apart, fallen. There are few horrors he has not seen and witnessed.
But it has been many years since he last witnessed a place so soaked with the demise of so many children. But this time, this time, there is no one left to keep on.
*
Obi-Wan is drifting. Drifting through the halls, an aimless and futile search for survivors. The clones are good at what they do, battle and war. They carry their orders well. They do not leave survivors. They never left a single droid unbroken and operational on the countless battles he has fought alongside them with. He does not understand. He thinks he never will.
It does not escape his eye, however, that some bodies did not sport the death wounds of blaster shots. Many had been beheaded or relieved of any number of limbs. The cauterized wounds a lightsaber makes.
Someone led the troopers into the Temple, someone they trust and someone the younglings thought they could trust.
A jedi.
There was yet, another traitor.
Obi-Wan travels deeper and deeper, letting his feelings guide him. There is nothing left, he finds, only the feelings of horror and betrayal lingering. The oppressing cold of the dark side. It screamed at him, a mournful wail. Perhaps it is suitable, he thinks, if he died here, if he wandered so deep, became so lost, he could not return. The thought it almost appealing, he thinks, because this must be what his destiny is. Something so lonely and terrible that only he would survive it, because, in the end, for some reason he cannot fathom, he is the one who continues to stand, continues to survive. He is nearly to his knees, leaning against a cold stone wall when he hears it and in the beginning, he is not entirely sure that it is not his brain playing tricks upon him. Because if the sound is true and real, nothing would be the same. A hushed sound brings him back to his senses and he reaches out, hesitantly, carefully. Something reaches back. That sound changes his life.
*
There are survivors. A gaggle of children huddling behind a clone with askew armor and a lightning scar over his head. A tiny horned head pops over the top of it, little hands gripping the armor and eyes wide with curiosity. The clone went to cover it but upon the younglings cry of joy at the sight of the jedi master, his shoulders roll and with the motion, so does the tension. He somehow expects a battle, an enemy. Obi-Wan can relate.
Firework, the trooper supplies. Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize him and the clone barely knows who Obi-Wan is either. As the younglings cry and try to grab hold of the jedi they know, Firework spill out. He does not understand what is happening. He knows about as much as Obi-Wan does. He does not understand why his brother have done something so awful, so cruel, so out of character.
He thinks something must be wrong. Obi-Wan isn’t sure he can think about it right now, so he does not. He just stares at what is left, down at the bodies that are wriggling to get close to his presence, as if he can offer them some amount of safety. He is uncertain what he is able to offer. Out of ten thousand, it is not much, but it is something. It is everything.
It is hope.
He leads them to the communications and information hub for answers, for something else. He contacts Bail Organa on the way, his only known ally, and requests for a bigger ship. They have more cargo to smuggle now. The senator seemed relieved at the prospect. Firewok glances at him, cautiously. He doesn’t know who to trust, especially when it comes to the government, to the senate. Obi-Wan can relate.
He relays a message to any surviving jedi to not return to the Temple.
The darkness and tyranny has risen, the Republic, fallen.
That time is gone and passed. A future that is uncertain, no longer safe.
There will be challenges, trust, faith, friendships.
There will be a new hope, he assures.
He really does not know who he is trying to convince. The children listen, quiet and attentive but once he is done, all of the questions bombard him. What is happening Master Kenobi? Where will we go? Why are our loved ones dead? Why are our loved ones killing us?
He does not have the answers for them.
Instead, he directs Firework to lead the children out of the Temple, sneakily and quietly and away, as Bail’s awaiting ship approaches to take them far from this place. He tells him there is something, one other thing, he must do, and he will catch up for certain. There are security tapes near everywhere and he has accessed them. He must know.
“It will only bring you pain,” a voice, a little Tholothian youngling, declares, her voice mournful and sympathetic, but it is too late. The recording plays and his heart twists, his chest lumps together and he can no longer breathe. Because, of course, he knows that face. He knows that face, but he does not recognize those eyes. Those yellow eyes.
Anakin.
He doesn’t refute it. Not with a youngling around. Not when she witnessed the horror. Who is he to question her trauma, just because he does not want to believe it? Perhaps, if she had not been there, he would have muttered denials. Because it seemed impossible. Anakin was capable of a great many things, but he never would have thought that he would slaughter children. Not this.
He doesn’t say anything else on the matter. He just stares as his beloved apprentice, his beloved brother, kneels at the feet of a Sith Lord, declaring himself and pledging himself to the Master. Anakin was always so concerned about becoming a slave to anything, Obi-Wan supposed the young one hadn’t realized he had just walked into it willingly. “You must go with the others,” he says instead, his voice cracking and somehow, it has become hoarse. Unusual, considering he has not been screaming or crying or even talking that much as of late.
“You must come with me,” she replies instead.
“There is someone I must warn,” he counters, the words coming out of his mouth before his brain can catch up. Somehow, he knows who he must warn but he wants nothing to do with it, not really. She will not believe him.
“You can call her,” she adds, patiently. He wonders if she knows who he is thinking of. She almost acts as though she does and perhaps it is true. They had never been one for subtly. Anyone could know rather easily. “There is no one else we can trust. Please.”
He nods but his mind is full. How can he not? “I apologize for my inadequate behavior,” he says in express regret, tone quiet and subdued. She takes his hand, curling her fingers around his larger one, and starts to lead him away from the recording, playing on a loop. It will stop automatically in a few minutes; he realizes but he cannot summon the strength to turn it off. He can hear a few sounds, but little else from it. “I do not know what I am thinking.”
“It is okay,” she assures, squeezing his hand, gently. The touch grounds him, brings him back to the present. He is tired, he knows, but not enough to cease action, not enough to stop moving forward. “But you survived. You are everyone’s best hope to survive too,” she points out, shuffling closer to his side. “Our only hope. Help us.”
“I have survived,” he agrees, although his voice is rather bland. He isn’t sure exactly what she is saying he has survived. It could be any number of things. Conflict, war, pain, death. He still wonders why him, out of all people, all beings, that keeps surviving these things. But then again, he does know, doesn’t he?
Infinite sadness, a nonexistent wind whispers.
Right, he thinks. He hadn’t lost everything yet. He has not yet become a near powerless, lonely old man in the desert.
Life had more to take.
Firework had been on the verge of absolute panic upon discovering the youngling’s absence when they got to the docked ship. All of them were aboard and he appeared ready to dive back into the horror scene that was once their home. Obi-Wan nearly could swear the clone nearly fainted in his relieved sigh when he saw the two of them, hand in hand, approach the ship. Bail had a rather large air craft waiting for them to rendezvous with. No one knew what would happen know and they looked to Obi-Wan for answers.
How could he tell them that he didn’t have any? Not one?
Obi-Wan, after getting the children to sleep, called Padme. It isn’t a pleasant conversation, and it drags out, no matter how many times he tries to excuse himself. She has questions. And once again, he does not have answers. He warns her of Anakin, of what he has done and what he could do. She does not believe him. But there is something there that she does know, he just can’t read it through the call. He lacks surprise at her disbelief, she is even more blind to Anakin’s faults than he is, apparently.
But Obi-Wan knows the truth. He just cannot convince her of it. He suggests she get help, a lot and fast, if she wants to survive her pregnancy – the jedi cannot help her now. This she is surprised by although Obi-Wan doesn’t know which part. Is she surprised that he knows about her pregnancy, or did she not believe the jedi would have helped her? It does very little to matter.
They are gone.
He musters all his sympathy.
But everything falls away when a little mirialan youngling comes to him for comfort. The child is scared and unsure and does not want to frighten anyone else with his own fear. He wants to be strong for them, to help Obi-Wan and Firework in what way he can. He tells Obi-Wan this, staring up at him with dark eyes, green skin flush but determined and steadfast. Obi-Wan just stares, his eyes and gaze softening; everything about him tempering. Because at this point, he has no lost everything, not as of yet. He still has something to hold onto, something to live for, to love and cherish and protect. And he will, the jedi vows.
Obi-Wan’s resolve strengthens to near nothing he has felt before. It is invigorating somehow. His arms lose the ache of use to hold the child to his chest with warmth coursing through the surface of his skin. His heart intensifies, beating in time with the youngling’s own. He feels it, so does the child. They stare. The soreness in his legs cease significantly, as the will to lift him up continues to rise. He no longer feels the need to collapse, his legs no longer feel like they will collapse underneath him, unable to support his weight. Because now, he can support the weight of them all. He will continue
He will continue until he has nothing left. Until his bones crack and shatter, until he can physically no longer stand or sit or go gone. Until his heart gives out and his mind can take no more. Until he can no longer see with his eyes, see with his senses, see at all. Until he can no longer smell or taste or touch. Until he can no longer sense, danger, the force, the love and care that they have for him, and he has for them. Until his memory is long gone, and he cannot remember even how to breathe. Until he can no longer teach and protect and love. And then he will continue, beyond, still.
None of it mattered because he will continue, always, consistently, never with falter. There will be no giving up. If only for them. His love is not finite, and they will know it, he vows.
*
Somehow, someway, they end up in the medical facilities on Polis Massa as if they are meant to be there. Perhaps it was the senator’s droids that contact them, maybe it was the will of the force guiding them, perhaps it was even just plain coincidence. He does not know. But standing over her, surrounded by jedi survivors, jedi children, trying to keep her from dying, while holding her two bundles of light, he does not remember how they got here. And of course, as it all comes to be, he does not care much either.
They are beautiful.
And his jedi children, his strong and incredible jedi survivors, were trying so hard to keep Padme alive. They pull and pull, no matter how much she tries to withdraw. Obi-Wan does not know what she saw or what happened when she went after Anakin and confronted him, in any capacity. He cannot imagine that it had been good or productive, especially considering the state she is in and her lover’s absence. But she could not be so selfish to give up her life because of him, because of one man that gave up everything else in hatred and power, not when she had two innocent babies that needed her. He would not let her. She may not have cared for the genocide and murder of his people and his children, but Luke and Leia are two that are hers.
In the end, they do keep her alive but do not know when she will awaken. The doctors say she is exhausted and weak and needs a lot of time to regain her strength, if she is even capable of it at all. Obi-Wan nearly wonders why, a little, because how can she be so exhausted and weak, so ready to give up when she knows, when she knows that she has children depending on her. But, in the end, he supposes, it does not matter. What is done is done.
He gathers up his gaggle of younglings in his arms and praises them for their good work. He tells them how good jedi they are, and he is infinitely proud. He will always be infinitely proud. They beam and love and he just wants to bask in their light forever. After everything they had been through, the intense horror of their people’s genocide, they are still so light, so strong and so remarkable.
They are amazing.
Bail himself eventually makes his way to them soon after. From then on, it is just them who does most of the planning. Bail seems to be the Jedi’s nearly only ally as of currently, at this point. The war had done a number on them, the propaganda, even more so. But it is the new emperor’s statements and rise that really seals the jedi’s fate once and for all, at least, for now. They believe him, somehow. They all believe that the jedi are traitors, that they are evil, power hungry monsters. That their children deserved to be slaughtered in their beds. Never before has Obi-Wan wanted to truly commit to a move of sai tok on a person.
Ideas are bounced off between the two of them, as they search, as they plan. One thing is for sure – the Empire cannot continue to stand. They talk about what is next for them, for Obi-Wan and the younglings. Bail offers to take Padme, to their healers and doctors so she can rest and heal. For now, he can hide her away until she awakens and can make a choice on what she would like to do next. He offers to take Luke and Leia to raise as their own until Padme can do it herself and Obi-Wan hesitates.
It is not that he does not trust Bail, he thinks, especially after this, Bail is one of the few that he continues to trust, continues to in a galaxy where everything and everyone is against him and his people. He has no doubt that Bail and his beautiful wife would do a magnificent job raising children, even ones such as them. He knows Bail well and he has come to know Breha as well. They are quite wonderful people that he will continue to care for. But Luke and Leia are highly force sensitive. One could be hidden perhaps, quite easily even, but the two of them were bound to feed off one another’s emotions as they grew, eventually. They are twin suns.
In the end, somehow, he relents. They negotiate and compromise and once more, perhaps it helps that Bail can and is willing to hide all of them away. It helps that he is willing to hide them in the mysterious and remote mountains of his home planet, a place to treacherous to travel, it would be likely that only a jedi could really find passage. It may be right under the emperor’s nose but Obi-Wan has a feeling that this can work.
He is right.
It helps that Bail makes it clear that he will continue to help them.
They leave the medical facility quickly, in fear of who may chase after them, but their talks continue. He plans to start work in the senate, in the government, in the galaxy, immediately. He, Padme, and several others had already started a movement before this had happened, that could be turned into something of a rebellion. It would be slow coming, but it will come.
Bail nearly has a heart attack at the sight of Firework when he and Obi-Wan go into the ship with the younglings. He was nearly killed by clones when he had stopped at the Temple the first time, in the midst of the genocide. He was saved by a padawan. But after a conversation, it is agreed – there is something horribly wrong with the clones. No one is certain that what has happened to them is their fault. Bail promises them, he promises Firework, holding his hand to secure his words and his vow, to look into the issue. Perhaps kidnap a few to test and understand what can compel them to turn on the jedi. A few out of millions would hardly be amiss, Bail says. Little does Obi-Wan know at that point, Bail is already scheming to steal the 212th Attack Battalion back for him.
Breha is as kind and beautiful and strong and amazing as always. She is more determined and steadfast as ever in her support of Obi-Wan and his people and somehow, someway, has already started searches out for any surviving Jedi, to find them and bring them to their new home. He presents her the twins of Luke and Leia, and she tries not to fall in love with them immediately. She probably does not succeed, as Obi-Wan had not succeeded either.
She promises to do all the things Obi-Wan recommends when it comes to rearing the children so sensitive to the Force and tells him he can visit whenever he wants or needs. She even tells him she will bring him to their new home and place when he would request. She is willing to do virtually anything for the betterment of these children, Obi-Wan realizes and even questions about keeping them together and not with others of their kind. He offers her a few reading materials and some tips. She gives him the most secure comm link that is around for the two of them.
The trip to their mountain hideout is as treacherous and dangerous as Bail had warned him, but in the end, being a jedi was nearly the only way to get there without getting themselves killed. And Obi-Wan was right, it was the perfect place to hide away from the Empire. Alderaan itself might be close and suspicious in the Empire’s purview but not only was this place, carved deep into a mountain so remote and difficult to find, it hid them away, physically and spiritually.
It would need some cleaning up, but it was mostly untouched for however long it had been since the ancients had left it or died out. It was beautiful and although everyone is a little hesitant, he thinks and they think, they can somehow, someway, eventually call it home.
They stand in the grand fall after the third entrance, where the walls swallow and the ceiling reach high up, held together by study columns. They are all holding one another. The littlest ones in the adult’s arms and tucked against their chests, the others holding hands tightly, as if they release one another, they will disappear forever.
And then, it is just a lone jedi master, a single clone, and a gaggle of children.
And until the Empire was dead and gone, until the people in power no longer thought of his people as traitors, monsters, and evil ones, they are forced to run and hide.