Chapter Text
Well, it was inevitable that they would find him eventually. Obi-Wan Kenobi thought to himself when that first familiar ripple of his Grand-Padawan met him in the Force. Curious, wanting, and then satisfied and eager when he felt her locate him, amongst the thousands of other dirty slums on Tragis’ most insignificant moon. He supposed with everything, his shielding must be ropey at best.
She was some way off, but he was under no illusion that it was only a matter of time before she would be crashing into his hut and he would find himself on his knees in front of the Empress and Emperor within the cycle. And probably dead within the next two.
He looked around and wondered vaguely what he should do. In his current state he couldn’t run (he was pretty sure his left ankle was at least sprained) and it would be pointless anyway. She was dam good, his Grand-Padawan. Should he pack? He snorted at the ridiculous thought, despite the pain it brought as his ribs ached. What kind of prisoner brings luggage?
On a strange distant level, he was rather surprised at how calm he was being about his inevitable impending doom. But his sluggish, fever addled mind couldn’t really offer him anything else. Useless he thought irritably.
He sat down gingerly on his pile of blankets that had been serving as a bed for the past month or so and ran his hands through sweaty hair. Ugh he was disgusting. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer.
There really was nothing for it. He looked around again, mentally saying goodbye to his grim dwelling. He had no affairs to put in order or possessions to re-distribute, but he was sure the family next door would benefit from the meager contents of his kitchen and he hoped they would be able to sell or use his blankets and pots.
For about the thousandth time he patted the space at his hip where the familiar weight of his lightsaber had been up until two years ago. He wondered if the Emperor had it now or if it had been thrown on the rubbish heap along with the Republic.
Well, with nothing else for it he did what all Jedi do when faced with the inevitable, he sank into a light meditation and monitored Ahsoka’s murky presence coming ever closer.
He was almost ridiculously easy to capture, when she finally strode into his hut; he hadn’t even bothered to lock the door. She knelt beside him on the floor.
“Master Obi-Wan” she breathed.
“Hello there” his usual greeting came out as rather a mumble, the pain and heat from his many injuries and aliments making themselves known again. But he felt a smile cross his face. It really was wonderful to see her. She was a young woman now, probably taller than him, he realised dimly. Far from the teenager he’d taught and guided.
“Force, Master…” she turned wide blue eyes on him and didn’t seem to know what to say.
“You don’t have to do this Ahsoka” he said quietly.
She looked at him calculatingly, suddenly cautious.
“I do Master, I promise it’ll be fine” she said firmly, her demeanour changing to mean business. She drew one of her sabres and he closed his eyes as he waited for the snap-hiss that would signal his death. He was suddenly angry. Surely Anakin (The Emperor his mind corrected him as usual) wasn’t going to make her kill him? But then again who knew these days?
“Sorry Master”
He drew in a deep breath, still no noise but he heard her shift and then to his absolute surprise, there was a thunk and a sharp pain in the back of his skull.
And then nothing.
---
Consciousness came slowly. A lifetime as a field Jedi and two years on the run from the Empire meant instinct kicked in and he methodically catalogued his surroundings and status without moving an inch.
The constant background hum spoke of a ship, and the pitch of the hum suggested hyperspace. He was lying on something soft and warm but he was in an awkward and uncomfortable position curled up on his side. Ahsoka he remembered dimly. She must have brought him back to her ship to be delivered to the Emperor and Pad-Empress. Oh thank Force. He had a mad moment of gratitude towards the Universe. At least Ahsoka hadn’t had to do it.
She had hit him bloody hard though! He reflected. It took a lot of effort not to groan at the pain in his head as he gave in and shifted slightly, everything was throbbing, and old injuries were complaining. Opening his eyes briefly he observed his hands were tied tightly in front of him with both rope and force-suppression cuffs, his ankles likewise and…he felt a stretch about his mouth and poked with his tongue, confirming he was gagged.
“…in pretty bad shape, can we have a team ready? Great, yeah tell Skyguy but maybe get them to wait…hmmm…Yeah out of it. Think it might be a bit much. No…no definitely secure…Ok see you soon, should be an hour or so.”
He heard the beep of a com channel being cut off and footsteps through the cabin. Giving up the game he opened his eyes properly.
“Hi Master Obi-Wan”
She approached him cautiously, as if the various restraints (and another shift told him they were around his knees too. Really Padawan?) as well as his possible concussion, illness, and the various wounds from escapes and scraps over the last few months weren’t enough to stop him from leaping up and duelling her.
His vision was still a little blurry but he saw small orange hands extended towards him and he was chagrined at the rather pathetic noise of protest that left his throat.
“Shh it’s OK” she said, and gently laid cool hands on his forehead. He closed his eyes; it was bliss. Ahsoka however, made an unhappy noise.
“You’re really not well Master” she pointed out, quite unnecessarily. He rolled his eyes and she smiled a little.
“Sorry” she said. “We’ll be home soon though, and we can get you sorted out.”
He looked at her confused for a moment, what in the galaxy did that mean? A thought struck him, maybe they weren’t going to the Imperial ship? Maybe Ahsoka was with some rebel group and this was a rescue?
Oh shut up Kenobi she said ‘Skyguy”! He was so annoyed with himself. It was like thinking through custard.
“Mmph” he shifted a bit in his, frankly rather over the top, restraints and looked pointedly from Ahsoka to his bound hands and then back again.
She looked pained for a moment before dashing his hopes.
“Sorry Master, I really need to get you there, and I know you’re…” she dithered for a moment “a bit out of it right now” he made what he hoped was a disparaging noise, that she ignored “and I can’t risk you pulling anything” she explained.
“Mmph” he tried again, shaking his head and then stopping abruptly. Ow! He groaned in pain. He was gratified when Ahsoka looked guiltily back at him.
She put her fingers on his head again and he felt a gentle hint of a force suggestion making him drowsy. Not enough to fully knock him out, he supposed that knocking out a Master was still a little beyond Ahsoka, but it was enough to make him close his eyes and relax against the pillows.
“Not long Master Obi-Wan, just hang in here.” And he heard light footsteps walk away.
---
He must have dropped off to sleep shortly after because it was to shouts, noise, and the bright light of the ship doors opening that he awoke.
Blinking hazily he lifted his head. It still hurt but not nearly as much. He took stock again to find nothing had changed. He was still completely immobilised and totally unable to defend himself.
He heard many footsteps and indistinguishable voices, until one heart-breakingly familiar, softly accented tone cut through the noise and he closed his eyes in despair. He’d know that voice, those voices, anywhere in any state.
“In there? Right stand by with the kit”
Sure enough, heavy footsteps came up the ramp and the concerned face of a clone medic stopped in front of him. He almost didn’t breathe for a full minute. Kix. He had sudden flashbacks to the aftermath of countless battles waking up to that face filled with concern, fiddling with an IV or some bandages. Or those features scrunching up in annoyance as he attempted to dodge medical for the third time since a battle had ceased.
The visions he saw in his nightmares of that face and armour blankly stepping over the body of younglings. Or aiming a blaster at a faceless being in Jedi tunics.
Kix seemed to be having a similar moment and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Obi-Wan.
“General.”
Obi-Wan looked at him in silence. Not that he could say much.
“General it’s so…good to see you.” Kix moved closer in the same cautious way one would with a wounded dangerous animal. Kix extended a hand and to Obi-Wan’s eternal shame he flinched back, shuffling awkwardly away and reflexively trying to curl further in to himself. It made his ribs hurt.
Kix immediately withdrew his hand in the face of his General’s distress and took in his appearance.
“Easy General it’s alright” he turned to Ahsoka “Bit much isn’t it Commander?” he asked Ahsoka incredulously, gesturing at Obi-Wan’s bound form.
The Togruta hovering in the doorway flushed a little but shook her head.
“It’s Master Obi-Wan, you know what he’s capable of! I couldn’t take any chances” she said defensively.
Kix shook his head and turned back to the figure on the bed. Reaching behind himself he took something out of a bag on the floor. Keeping it out of Obi-Wan’s line of vision he advanced again.
“Don’t worry Sir we’ll get you out of these and nice and comfortable soon enough” he said in a soothing voice. Obi-Wan made a noise in the back of his throat but couldn’t shuffle away any further as Kix came closer.
The bodies of his friends he saw in his dreams, and the pictures he’d seen on the holonews flashed before his eyes again and he made a whimpering noise. Couldn’t they just kill him? Everything hurt, he felt raw inside and out and he just wanted it to end.
Too late, he saw the syringe in the medic’s hand. Kix held him firmly as he attempted to wriggle away and quick as a flash it was plunging into his neck.
He groaned around the gag as almost immediately everything began to feel heavy and sluggish.
A sedative.
Kix stroked a hand through his hair gently as his eyelids closed and just refused to open again, and once more he lost consciousness.
---
Since the Commander had informed them she had successfully located and picked up their wayward Jedi Master, the Fearless One had been a hive of activity. Quarters had been prepared, the med bay re-stocked, clothes ordered. One industrious brother had even re-done the menu in the mess.
Even with the Emperor breathing down their necks and the Empress doing a classier version of flapping (which seemed to involve re-doing everything they did) there was an atmosphere of genuine excitement and anticipation like Kix hadn’t experienced in years.
Everyone was fond of General Kenobi, and now that the Imperial Guard was a mixture of the longer serving members of the 212th and the 501st,, most of the Vod on board had had personal interactions with the senior General and were similarly devoted to him. As well as making those he spoke to feel like the most important people in the galaxy, the General had saved all their lives at the expense of his own safety more than once. Menace that he was.
Now though, Kix wished they had managed expectations a little better. He looked down at the figure in the bed and felt nothing but sadness and a kind of feral protectiveness.
Sedated and hooked up to IV lines and various monitors, covered in bandages and bacta, their Jedi was almost unrecognisable as the cocky, brilliant, formidable warrior that Sith Lords and Clanker Generals had ran from.
General Kenobi was deathly pale and weighed at least half what he did when Kix last saw him. His cheekbones far too prominent and the bags under his eyes spoke of a lifetime of sleepless nights. Bandages around his head obscured his trademark copper hair, and one arm was securely strapped at an angle across his chest. Kix had fitted an IV line to his free hand that was feeding him vital nutrients and sugars to combat the dehydration. Under the light blankets, bandages were helping to support broken ribs and Kenobi’s broken left foot was heavily wrapped. There was a deep gash that Kix had spent the better part of an hour cleaning and treating on the back of that same leg that had been weeping for Force knows how long, but it explained the fever and infection.
Kix wanted nothing more than to keep him wrapped in blankets and in his direct line of sight forever, and he knew the other brothers in the med bay felt the same.
He sighed and looked at the General’s chart, starting a mental list of everything they still needed to do; continue with the anti-biotics, start him on some kind of diet, take care of his blood pressure…he was lost in his musings for a moment before a punctuated series of coughs from outside the door had him hastily putting the pad down and standing at attention.
“Ok Kix you’ve had him long enough, I know he’s asleep” The commanding, impatient voice of his Commander-in-chief and Emperor rattled through the room as he swept in. Dark tailored cloak floating behind him and boots making almost no noise, he looked at Kix accusingly. Authority and age hadn’t really changed Anakin Skywalker, in Kix’ opinion. With the loss of his home and his Master he had become, if possible, more impatient and prone to changeable moods but at his core he remained the boisterous, bold man who wore his heart on his sleeve.
“Commander we promise to be quiet we just need to see him.” Kix’ Empress followed right behind her husband in a rustle of expensive fabric and high heals, a worried look on her beautiful face and anxiety in her voice.
Kix understood where they were coming from; they had both devoted themselves almost whole-heartedly to searching for their lost…Kix wasn’t even sure how to describe it, friend? Family member? And he knew how desperate they were to see him. It had been all he could do to keep them both at bay whilst he cleaned General Kenobi up a bit and examined him. Not only did he need to focus solely on his patient, but he knew they would both be upset at the state he was in, and he needed to look after them too.
He turned to meet them both, obscuring General Kenobi from view, not intimidated in the slightest by the two most powerful people in the Galaxy.
“Sir, My Lady” he said politely.
“Kix how is he? Is he here?” The Empress craned her neck to look behind him whilst the Emperor simply looked prepared to sweep him aside.
“My Lady, Sir, he’s in bad shape” Kix said softly. He looked at his C.O in the eye. “I need your assurance that you will be as calm as possible, the last thing General Kenobi needs is stress, I have been unable to ascertain the status of his Force connection.”
“I promise Kix”
The medic nodded.
“He’s in bad shape” he repeated “but just bear in mind that he will recover, with a lot of care and attention and rest he’ll be back to normal” he assured them, attempting to mitigate the nasty shock they were about to receive. It was always hard seeing a loved one in this situation.
He stepped aside and Emperor Skywalker rushed to General Kenobi’s bedside, the Empress stepping to the foot of the bed.
“Obi-Wan” The Emperor breathed in dismay, taking his friend’s good hand in his, IV line and all. Lady Skywalker said nothing, simply covered her mouth with her hand and blinked away watery eyes.
“Commander, tell us everything” She asked, turning emotion filled eyes on Kix.
Kix nodded and picked up the chart again.
“His injuries are extensive; cracked skull, broken left arm, broken ribs, a problematic laceration on his left calf that was infected as well as a broken left foot” he looked at them both. “All of this is easily fixed” he assured them, answering the horrified look on the Empress’ face and the anger that flashed in the Emperors eyes. Not giving them a chance to speak he carried on. “Our bigger problems are his malnutrition, exhaustion and dehydration. Again, all fixable but it’s going to take a bit more time.” He placated them again. “My biggest concern, however, is his mental state” Kix admitted.
“What do you mean?” the Empress asked. Skywalker merely nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes off their sleeping companions face. He raised one hand to brush tenderly against his bearded cheek, as if reassuring himself that the other man was real.
“Commander Tano reports that he was fairly out of things when she found him but was calm enough. It was when I met him on the ship that he seemed to struggle.” He looked at them both in turn again. “Obviously, he associates the vode with the fall of the Jedi. That, and the physical condition he’s in speaks to a very difficult mental state. I think it’s imperative that we make sure he remains calm.”
They both nodded.
“Of course”
“Thanks Kix”
They paused whilst the couple absorbed the information, staring at their companion.
“How long until he wakes up?” Emperor Skywalker asked, finally turning to look at Kix.
“It’s difficult to say, we’ve given him some good painkillers and a sedative but he obviously needs to catch up on a lot of sleep so it could be a good few hours yet.” Kix dithered uncharacteristically, choosing his next words carefully. “I’m not sure, your Imperial Majesty’s, that it’s a good idea for you to be here when he wakes up.” He said slowly. “I think it might be very stressful for him until someone can explain that he’s safe” he held up a hand to stop protests. “I have said the same thing to Cody, Rex, and the rest of the Vode. Let me get him a little stronger physically before we make him confront everyone. It’ll be overwhelming.”
Both of them looked at him, the Empress a little lost and the Emperor with just the barest hint of hurt in his eyes.
“Of- Of course Commander” the Empress answered for them. “Whatever is best for Obi-Wan”.
The Emperor had gone back to staring at the sleeping man, and said nothing.
“Can we, can we stay with him a while longer?” she asked, and Force knows Kix couldn’t have said no to that face.
“Of course, I’ll be right outside.” He said, and gracefully took his leave.
Aa soon as the door closed behind Commander Kix Padme let out a sob.
They found him; they’d found Obi-Wan. He was here, safe and back with them. But Force why was it so upsetting?
“C’mere Angel” Anakin beckoned her over, holding his free arm open and she didn’t hesitate to drag over a chair and press herself to her husband’s side.
She sniffed. Anakin kissed her on the head.
“It’s OK Angel, he’s here, he’s with us. And Kix said, with a bit of care and rest he’ll be fine” he assured her, confidence in his words but he still hadn’t let go of Obi-Wan’s hand.
“I know” she sniffed again and wiped her eyes “I’m so glad we finally found him, but look at him Anakin” she said quietly. “He’s been through so much.” It was her turn now to reach over and push her hand through the hair on top of his head, above the crown of bandages.
“Yeah” he choked out in response, before turning fierce golden eyes on her, the usual blue gone in the face of his emotions. “But he’s back with us and we’ll look after him Padme. Nobody’s ever going to hurt him again.”