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fragmentsofthegalaxyThey’d found him. Somehow... they’d found him. Siri might have thought he was dead... if not for the fact that she would have known. Would have felt it. She was absolutely certain of that. Of course, there was the possibility that she was slightly unhinged, but she clung to the certainty that she would know if he had died with a desperate stubbornness.
He was alive. He had to be.
And the others had indulged her; they wanted him to have survived as much as she did. So they looked for him. And searched, and turned over every kriffing rock they could to try and find where it was that Anakin... Lord VADER had imprisoned Obi-Wan. On his master’s orders, or some twisted sense of revenge, she didn’t know. Maybe both. But the Sith had put him in prison, in the highest security facility that existed, currently.
When Vader had made a seething off-hand comment in the middle of an argument with Padmé in regards to Obi-Wan contradicting everything that he’d said before, everything they’d been told, it had been almost too much to hope that that was the truth. That she was right. It didn’t matter; they worked all the harder to hunt down traces of where he’d been taken. And even once they’d located him, it had taken time. Time to plan, to research and learn everything they could about the cage they’d trapped him in.
It had taken them too kriffing LONG.
She insisted on being the only one who went in. Some of them weren’t able to lay as low in this new life they’d carved out in the wake of the Empire’s creation; Padmé had it the worst, given she still served in the sham that remained of the Galactic Senate. Siri had to, and Ahsoka; it was dangerous to be a Jedi, now. But at least they’d managed to keep Rex’s continued existence a secret. At least for the time being.
She would take this risk alone. She had to.
Since the destruction of the Order she had learned how to hide herself, to conceal her Force presence so completely she didn’t even register to other Force sensitives, and innumerable other skills (not all of them Force-related) that had been a necessity in the galaxy they were left with. She wasn’t the same person she was before; none of them were. She wasn’t sure there was anything left of that Siri. Not anymore.
She had concealed her Force presence entirely; she couldn’t risk leaving any trace of herself that might give them away. The Mandalorian armour was still vaguely uncomfortable, still wrong-feeling, but another necessity; the helm hid who she was and distorted her voice enough to lessen the chances of recognition even more. Force, let him be all right. Let him be here.
PLEASE.
She stalked down the prison corridor, blue eyes scanning the cell numbers as she moved. They were running out of time. There. Holstering her blaster (it was almost as comfortable in her hands as a lightsaber, anymore; it had bothered her, in the beginning, but it was just another necessity. A way of life), she drew to a halt. “7213. Got it. Open the door, Artoo.”
The door hissed open in response and she slipped inside, her hand lingering near her blaster; this could be a trap. Vader could know, the Emperor could KNOW, this could be a trap... but there was no hesitation in her footsteps.
For him she would face anything.
He was alive. He had to be.
And the others had indulged her; they wanted him to have survived as much as she did. So they looked for him. And searched, and turned over every kriffing rock they could to try and find where it was that Anakin... Lord VADER had imprisoned Obi-Wan. On his master’s orders, or some twisted sense of revenge, she didn’t know. Maybe both. But the Sith had put him in prison, in the highest security facility that existed, currently.
When Vader had made a seething off-hand comment in the middle of an argument with Padmé in regards to Obi-Wan contradicting everything that he’d said before, everything they’d been told, it had been almost too much to hope that that was the truth. That she was right. It didn’t matter; they worked all the harder to hunt down traces of where he’d been taken. And even once they’d located him, it had taken time. Time to plan, to research and learn everything they could about the cage they’d trapped him in.
It had taken them too kriffing LONG.
She insisted on being the only one who went in. Some of them weren’t able to lay as low in this new life they’d carved out in the wake of the Empire’s creation; Padmé had it the worst, given she still served in the sham that remained of the Galactic Senate. Siri had to, and Ahsoka; it was dangerous to be a Jedi, now. But at least they’d managed to keep Rex’s continued existence a secret. At least for the time being.
She would take this risk alone. She had to.
Since the destruction of the Order she had learned how to hide herself, to conceal her Force presence so completely she didn’t even register to other Force sensitives, and innumerable other skills (not all of them Force-related) that had been a necessity in the galaxy they were left with. She wasn’t the same person she was before; none of them were. She wasn’t sure there was anything left of that Siri. Not anymore.
She had concealed her Force presence entirely; she couldn’t risk leaving any trace of herself that might give them away. The Mandalorian armour was still vaguely uncomfortable, still wrong-feeling, but another necessity; the helm hid who she was and distorted her voice enough to lessen the chances of recognition even more. Force, let him be all right. Let him be here.
PLEASE.
She stalked down the prison corridor, blue eyes scanning the cell numbers as she moved. They were running out of time. There. Holstering her blaster (it was almost as comfortable in her hands as a lightsaber, anymore; it had bothered her, in the beginning, but it was just another necessity. A way of life), she drew to a halt. “7213. Got it. Open the door, Artoo.”
The door hissed open in response and she slipped inside, her hand lingering near her blaster; this could be a trap. Vader could know, the Emperor could KNOW, this could be a trap... but there was no hesitation in her footsteps.
For him she would face anything.