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Title: "Shadow & Light" by Quiller
Rating: PG-13, some graphic description
Disclaimer: I am only dipping my pen in George's inkwell. No credits, Republic or otherwise, have been exchanged.
Description: Obi-Wan and Anakin are on a collision course. Only one will walk away.
The breeze whipping over the swoop's windscreen was cool and refreshing. A sharp contrast to the occasional tendril of steam that cut across the swoop's path.
From the high ridge that encircled Caldera Flats, the ground had appeared deceptively flat, patches of fog filling the low spots. Once on the parched and barren plain, sinkholes of varying sizes were visible beneath the steam clouds.
Obi-Wan swung the swoop around another fissure belching stream and veered towards the largest sinkhole he'd seen yet. As he circled the rim, the swoop shimmied for a few seconds, and not for the first time. Obi-Wan scowled and let the swoop coast to a stop. He hoisted his right leg up and rested his boot on the central column as he scanned the wide depression. Two hundred meters in diameter and close to six meters deep, the hole was smooth, bowl-like. Obi-Wan counted five tunnels branching out from the basin.
Over seven kilometers wide, Caldera Flats had once been an enormous volcano -- before it had blown its top. And its still active state explained the current lack of life forms, plant or animal. Obi-Wan glanced at the ridge, two kilometers distant. If hiding was his intent, the forests might have been the better choice. His gaze shifted upwards. The disturbance in the Force was growing. The choice, it appeared, was no longer his.
Having no desire to get caught out in the open and picked off by a fighter's laser bolt, Obi-Wan settled back on the seat and skimmed along the ridge for three meters, then plunged into the sinkhole. Like the rest of the Flats, the ground here was hard-packed and etched with a mosaic of fine cracks. The swoop's passage left no trail, stirred no dust.
The closest tunnel was two meters high and almost perfectly round -- an old lava tube. Obi-Wan parked the swoop deep in the shadows. He peered down the tunnel. The air was stale, hinting of a dead end.
Re-emerging into the hazy sunlight, Obi-Wan broke into a jog and angled across the basin and up a gentle slope. Urgency was tugging at his mind. He paused in front of a flattened oval entrance and glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see Anakin striding towards him. Not yet. But soon. Very soon.
Ducking low, Obi-Wan slipped into the cave. Four meters later, the walls closed in, pushing the ceiling up as it molded into a circular tube that sloped downwards. Obi-Wan drew a deep breath. He'd never had much use for caves -- he'd rather feel deep space wrapping around him than layers of bedrock. He heard the rumble before he felt it. The ground began to vibrate. Obi-Wan reached out to brace himself. Seconds later the tremor ceased. Obi-Wan shuddered and hurried down the dark stone throat.
The tunnel spilled into a massive grotto. The walls and ceiling were melted smooth by the lava that had formed the cave eons ago; a half dozen pock-marks marred the ceiling where time had released jagged boulders onto the floor. A wide crevice angled across the floor, cutting off one-third of the cave, with a smaller crack branching off, forming a 'Y'. Slashes of red glowed on the ceiling above the cracks. Cool air rushed into the cave down the same path as Obi-Wan, shoving the heat and steam out through two shafts high in the far wall, making the hot atmosphere bearable.
The Jedi glided to the center of the grotto and sank to his knees facing the entrance. He balanced his lightsaber across his legs and sat back on his heels. The second he eased into a meditative state, he felt the disturbance shift. Anakin had sensed him.
The Force infused Obi-Wan with a sense of rightness. Discomfort fell away as the moment filled him, and the Light Side glimmered with an intensity that shredded the darkness in the cave as efficiently as the twin suns of Tatooine.
Obi-Wan realized then what his master, Qui-Gon, must have felt as he had waited for the barrier of red energy to retract, had waited for the instrument of his death to be unleashed. In this moment, life or death was irrelevant. It was the knowing that mattered -- knowing that he rested in the center of the Force's will.
In that state of waiting, time passed without notice, and Obi-Wan wasn't sure how long it was before the black wedge of anger began plowing down the tunnel. He stood and shook out his legs, then took a few cleansing breaths as he rotated his shoulders. The Jedi's stance was loose; he poised on the balls of his feet.
The sun had dropped toward the horizon and now shone almost directly down the tunnel, filling the grotto with a muted golden glow, and silhouetting the black form that entered the cave and halted, hands on hips.
Anakin's voice was low, with an icy edge that carved fresh wounds into Obi-Wan's heart. "So, the cowardly Kenobi has finally run out of places to hide."
Sadness flitted through Obi-Wan's thoughts. "No, my friend. The Force has chosen the time and place of our meeting. I am here because I choose to serve the Light."
Anakin ignited his red blade; its gleam lit his features and shadows flickered across his face, making him appear much like the Sith creature Obi-Wan had killed fourteen years before. The dark lord waved the blade back and forth, taunting Obi-Wan with a gruesome smile. "It must be demanding yet another sacrifice. Your Light Side has become very bloodthirsty of late, requiring that so many of its followers impale themselves upon my lightsaber. Mace fell to this blade. So did Plo Koon. Among others." The smile widened. "You're next, Kenobi."
When Obi-Wan didn't react, Anakin growled and charged, the lightsaber swinging in a tight figure eight. Obi-Wan recognized echoes of his own style and side-stepped the rush without lighting his blade. The move seemed to further enrage the dark lord.
Anakin spun and lunged. Obi-Wan snapped his weapon up. The green and red blades spat multi-colored sparks as they locked together. Anakin shoved. Obi-Wan leapt back. The two circled each other warily.
"You think to unnerve me by using Qui-Gon's blade against me," Anakin said. "Fool. All it does is fuel my anger and make me stronger."
"I honor my master by wielding his lightsaber," Obi-Wan replied.
"And you think I don't honor Qui-Gon -- you, the simpering puppet of the Jedi Council that he despised."
"Little you know of what Qui-Gon thought. Even when he disagreed with them, he respected the Council, but he truly despised the Sith. Every second of every day that you cling to Dark Side teachings, you dishonor his memory."
With a roar that sounded curiously tinged by grief, Anakin struck. Obi-Wan retreated before the pounding hail of blows. Waves of anger crashed against the Jedi, seeking to break down his Force-enhanced barriers.
A wall of heat built behind Obi-Wan as he slowly backed towards the chasm. He jumped and dove over Anakin, twisting to land facing his foe. Anakin wheeled and thrust just as Obi-Wan touched down. The Jedi barely managed to deflect the blow. He fell to the left, his shoulder grazing a razor-edged boulder. He rolled and sprang to his feet, ignoring the caustic pang.
Anakin sneered. "First blood to the victor." He feinted left, struck right. Again. Again.
Obi-Wan continued to defend. He needed to understand this new flavor to Anakin's fighting. It seemed to have a reckless edge, a wildness, born of the anger he used to fuel his attack. Anakin lunged. Obi-Wan jumped back and winced as the red tip barely scratched his upper thigh. Wild, but effective.
Another flurry of blows drove Obi-Wan backwards a dozen steps. He circled around a waist-high boulder, keeping it between him and Anakin. The gleam of victory shone darkly in Anakin's eyes. The sun dropped another notch, flooding the grotto with brightness. Anakin squinted against the harsh light.
Obi-Wan vaulted the boulder, arching his lightsaber down in a one-handed stroke. It glanced off the red blade and nicked Anakin's elbow. He hissed.
Now the Jedi pressed the attack. Feint left. Prod. Strike right. And again.
Green and red clashed, sparked, hissed. The battle intensified. The pair traded jolting blows. Blades blurred.
Sweat cascaded off Obi-Wan. But a similar sheen slicked Anakin's face, and the certainty was gone from his eyes. The Jedi tightened his grip on his blade and pressed the assault. Shuffle forward. Left. Right. Push. Push. The Force erased fatigue, revealed Anakin's every step. He knew this boy's moves; he had taught them. A slight smile brushed over his lips.
Suddenly, fury poured off Anakin, as freely as the rivers of perspiration. Face contorted with waxing hatred, he regained the offensive. His onslaught gained momentum. Iron hammer strikes vibrated up Obi-Wan's arms.
Obi-Wan strove to match the intensity, anger at his foolish overconfidence pricking the back of his mind. His concentration wavered. He stumbled under the attack. He leapt high and back, landing six meters away, near the wide fissure. He used the precious seconds to quash the ire he'd felt, to regain his center.
Anakin rushed him. Obi-Wan spun and deflected a wicked uppercut. Anakin panted his foot and wheeled. Struck again. Obi-Wan parried. Blocked. Jumped back from a slicing arch.
Agony speared Obi-Wan's calf and thigh. Red flashed. He side-stepped. The twin knife-edges of stone piercing his leg tore two wide gashes as he ripped loose from them. Anakin thrust. Obi-Wan dove, rolled on his shoulder, popped to his feet. He lunged twice, blood spurting from his wounds. Anakin parried both strikes and stepped back.
Huffing the pulsating pain out in sharp breaths, Obi-Wan pushed the attack. Blades and gazes locked. With a muted roar, the ground started to shake. Obi-Wan saw Anakin lose his focus. The Jedi shoved hard and lanced forward. Anakin stumbled. Obi-Wan slashed upwards. The green blade sliced through Anakin's black-gloved wrist. Right hand and lightsaber cartwheeled away.
Anakin staggered, his heel caught on the edge of the crevice. His eyes widened. His left arm windmilled. Fury burst from Anakin like a shockwave as the crack swallowed the black lord. The tremor died away, along with a bellow of rage.
Obi-Wan's blade winked out. His arm lowered to hang limply by his side. He gaped at the spot where Anakin had disappeared. An anguish-filled scream of denial filled his ears and mind. His own, he realized.
Dropping to his hands and knees, he tried to peer over the edge. Super-heated steam drove him back. "Anakin! No!" he shouted. Quieter, he added, "Why? Why did it have to end like this?"
Obi-Wan slumped and rolled onto his back. Light was fading from from cave as the sun sank below the rim of the basin. His leg throbbed unmercifully and his shoulder sang a dull counterpoint. He could feel his lifeblood pulsing from the wounds with each beat of his heart. Battle adrenaline waned. He had to move before he couldn't. Obi-Wan sagged. What difference did it make? He'd done what he'd set out to do. He draped his arm over his eyes. Was that sweat or tears? He swiped the moisture away.
A face floated in the mists of his blurring vision. A tiny, blue-eyed babe stared at him with complete trust. Force help me.
Moaning, Obi-Wan shunted his physical hurts and grief aside, rolled over, and pushed to his knees, then to his feet. He staggered as his right leg buckled. Shoring up the injured leg with the Force, he took three halting steps and stretched out his arm, leaning on the boulder that had gouged him. A glint from Anakin's lightsaber caught his gaze. The black glove still clutched the weapon.
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm so sorry, my friend," he whispered. He nudged with the Force, flipping the hand and lightsaber into the chasm.
With a heavy sigh, Obi-Wan pushed away from the rock. Each step lashing agony, he retraced his path out of the grotto and up the incline. He stooped as the ceiling of the tunnel pressed down, and fell to his knees. Crawling the last few meters, Obi-Wan emerged from the cave just as the last crescent of the sun disappeared from sight
Anakin's Infiltrator sat a short distance away. As he eyed the distance to the ship, his stomach churned. Pain radiated out from his injured leg and engulfed him. Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder and stared at the smeared trail of blood. He straightened and sat back on his left heel, then tugged at his tunic, trying to rip a strip off. His fingers fumbled uselessly. The world suddenly tilted and spun. Obi-Wan swayed. He crumpled and tumbled two meters down the sloped entrance to the cave, landing on his back with a loud "Oof!"
Footsteps. Faint. Growing louder. Running. Obi-Wan blinked and stared at the first star as it twinkled to life in the dusky sky. A grizzled face appeared above him.
"Rusk?" Obi-Wan whispered. The face nodded. "D-didn't I tell you to get back to your unit?"
Rusk's voice was gruff. "Never listened to you before. Don't know why I should start now." Strong arms hoisted Obi-Wan up. "Come on. Our shuttle's powered up and parked on the other side of this Sith ship. Gotta get out of here."
A step and Obi-Wan's legs gave out. Rusk caught him. The major hissed loudly. "Hutt pus, General. Your leg's tore wide open."
The Jedi grimaced and forced himself to put weight on the leg, even as it pumped more life from his body. He leaned heavily on Rusk and started forward. His jaw clenched reflexively with each step.
They had almost reached the Infiltrator when Rusk muttered something to himself. He pivoted and swung the Jedi up into a rescue lift. Obi-Wan grunted his protest at being unceremoniously draped over the major's shoulder, then fell quiet, squeezing his eyes shut to ward off the threatening vertigo.
Being plopped into the co-pilot's chair jarred Obi-Wan back to full alert. Rusk tossed him a medkit.
"Can you patch yourself up?"
Obi-Wan nodded. He quashed the nausea and pain, cut away his legging, and began to apply bacta strips to the gaping leg wounds. The gash on his shoulder suddenly flared painfully, along with a myriad of bruises and aches, all clamoring for attention.
Rusk settled into the pilot's seat and ran a quick systems check while Obi-Wan wrapped the leg tightly . As the shuttle lifted off, Rusk said, "We'll have you in a med-droid's claws in no time, General."
"No," Obi-Wan replied as he leaned back in his seat and pressed a bacta-pad to his shoulder. He met Rusk's puzzled gaze. "I'm through, Rusk. No more blasted infirmaries -- never could stand the smell. And no more 'General'. My fighting days are over."
The major's gaze darkened. "What exactly happened down there, sir?"
The Jedi looked away. "I killed him, Rusk. Killed my own Padawan."
"You mean ... Vader? But he needed to die."
"Did he? I wonder." Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, pain and misery knifing through his thoughts. "What did I do? Really? The Emperor still lives. He'll raise up another pawn. I accomplished nothing."
Rusk swiveled the ship and fired on the undefended Infiltrator. The fireball lit up the sinkhole. "Sithspawn! You rid the galaxy of a monster. How can you think you did nothing, General?"
"Please don't call me that." Obi-Wan coaxed the shrieking pain to the back of his mind. As his energy oozed from his pores, he strained to stay conscious. "What ... what's your first name, Rusk? I don't think I ever knew."
"Devlin, sir."
"Devlin." Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "Call me Obi-Wan. No. Call me Ben."
"Sure, ah, ... Ben. Care to tell me what co-ordinates to set, before we're intercepted by those buzzard Imperials again?"
"Tatooine. I need to get to Tatooine."
"Why that forsaken dust ball?"
"Three random jumps should be enough."
Rusk snorted. "Fine. Don't tell me. Tatooine, it is."
Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and let the pain sweep him into the Light's healing embrace.
Heat. Searing. Bone-melting.
Four meters below the ledge that had broken his fall -- and his legs -- a molten river flowed and gurgled hungrily.
Agony fused with the blistering heat and sizzled over his nerves. He tried to touch the Force, to call ...
The bedrock grumbled. The sound bounced all around him as the ledge began to shake and crumble. He clawed for a handhold with his left hand, his right stump waving uselessly.
The ledge gave way.
He flung his body toward the rock face. As he slid down the almost vertical incline, the scalding surface shaved skin and hair off the side of his head. He opened his mouth to scream and swallowed a belch of poisoned, scalding air.
The slide stopped with a jerk as his stump wedged in a crack. His boots slapped into liquid heat. Flames licked up his legs.
This time he did scream, venting his pain in an agonized wail that reverberated all around him. Boots and skin and bone melted. The Force swelled darkly. Blackness shrouded his mind. No! He refused. Refused to die. Not. Like. This.
Straining through and beyond the super-nova of pain, he touched the Dark Side and pleaded for it to possess him body and soul.
The Force surged. Vader roared. The fire mangling his thighs instantly extinguished.
With super-human effort, Vader reached up and wrapped his fingers around a jutting rock. His glove fused to the surface as he pulled himself up, pausing to wrench his stump free.
Finding another crack, he jammed his stump into it and ripped his hand out of the melted glove. Stretching out again, he grasped another protrusion. His fingers blistered as he hoisted himself up. His half legs dangled uselessly. The Force swirled around and through him, pouring titanium into his grip.
Pain battered at his sanity and Vader faltered. Obi-Wan's smug smile came to mind. He forced himself to continue. Hatred boiled through his blood. Kenobi would not win. Kenobi would not defeat him. Chest heaving, he hung above the lava flow and urged the hatred to feed on his own pain. It swelled and solidified into a writhing serpent that coiled around his mind and squeezed.
Vader resumed his ascent, one harrowing centimeter at a time. Acidic vapors stung his eyes and clogged his airways; he could feel his lungs seizing up. He held his breath as long as the Force would allow between knifing gasps for oxygen.
Madness born of pain consumed him. He would show them. All of them. Nothing could destroy him. An inferno of pain engulfed him, beyond which nothing existed. Nothing except the hate -- black and powerful, slithering through his body, strengthening his arm for the next scorching pull, for the next grinding wedging of his stump.
In one shattering second of lucidity, Vader realized that this -- this meteoric agony -- would be his ultimate fate when the Dark Side finally, totally consumed him. He denied the knowledge with a screaming burst of black energy and lunged upwards.
Vader's arm flopped over the ledge of the crevasse. He flung his stump over the edge, as well, and took a breath of relatively cool air. White-hot shrapnel exploded in his lungs and tore through his body.
A final gush of Force-fed strength boosted him onto the grotto's floor. He pitched himself away from the angry crack. He couldn't move his head to see the damage; could only lift his left arm to see tattered, charred flesh and muscle hanging in strips from his elbow down. Bile rose in his throat. He forced himself to swallow. Pain blanked his mind. Every synapse fired. Every nerve cried out as micro-bursts of lightning convulsed and fried his body. Agony strobed white and red. His back arched. His mouth gaped as he struggled to breathe.
Caught in an electric web of agony, he thrashed weakly as the void fringed his senses and crowded in upon him. No! He wouldn't die. Wouldn't. Let. Kenobi. Defeat. Him.
Echoing footsteps. Beams of light flashed overhead. One beam caught him. Flicked away. Bounced back. Vader focused tenaciously on the light and the void retreated.
"Over here!"
Running. Swearing. Retching.
"Sir, he's alive! S-somehow ..."
More footsteps. A gasp. "Angels of Iego preserve us! Don't just stand there. Get the repulsor sled."
A blurry face floated in the circle of light. "Lord Vader? Your Interceptor's signal went off-line. We came to investigate. A, a blood trail led us here. You'll ... you'll be fine." The blur receded. "Corpsman! Get over here with that medkit. We need an ox-mask." The blur again hovered above Vader's mangled, living remains. "We'll sedate you, sir. Get you to the ship. You'll be ... f-fine."
Vader reached through the blazing pain, recognized the Star Destroyer commander's voice and grasped the man's collar with his shredded fingers. He croaked, "Kenobi killed him."
"K-killed who, sir?"
"Anakin," Vader rasped. "But he couldn't defeat me."
"Of, of course not, Lord Vader."
As the ox-mask was pressed over his face, Darth Vader cocooned his mind with the pulsing black shadows of the Dark Side.
