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The Master's Trial	By : Walter26 Category: Star Wars (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 9592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-The Master's Trial
- 1
THE MASTER’S TRIAL

“Anakin is going to kill me,” Obi-Wan said to no one in particular.
Nobody paid attention to him. The medical bay was filled with the screams of injured men and the sounds of frenetic activity as the medical droids and personnel went about their work. The scene swam before Obi-Wan's eyes; he had been hit on the head with something heavy, which was the last thing he remembered of the battle, and now it hurt like hell. The Jedi Master was in no immediate danger, so he had been given the most basic aid and left on a cot while the medics attended to the more urgent cases. He hated lying there like a log and being just as useless, but an attempt to rise had brought on a wave of dizziness so strong he had nearly blacked out. It seemed that, for the time being, he was stuck in the medical bay. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and cast his thoughts back to the battle. Even though it had happened minutes before, it all felt like a dream. Obi-Wan wished it had been.
The enemy had caught them completely by surprise. In a daring move worthy of Anakin, a party of droids and mercenaries had boarded the Fist Of the Chancellor, led by General Grievous and Asajj Ventress. Their purpose had been unclear – most likely, they had intended to reach the reactor and sabotage it – but, in any case, the clones had pushed them back to the hangar bay, which had been their entry point. It was there that the bloodiest fighting had taken place. The clones had fought the droids and mercenaries, while Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had engaged Ventress and Grievous, respectively. Obi-Wan had meant to do it the other way around, but Ventress had attacked him with the viciousness of a fighting dog that won't let go even if you kick it the ribs, and Ahsoka could not stand the sight of Grievous slaughtering clone troopers like cattle. Her compassion had cost her dearly. Obi-Wan saw it with his own eyes. There had been a let-up in his duel with Ventress, and he had allowed himself a glance in Ahsoka's direction just in time to see Grievous lift her from the ground and give her a savage headbutt that left her limp, her lightsabers falling from her grip. Obi-Wan had meant to rush to her aid, but, at that precise moment, he was knocked out. He suspected Ventress had used the Force to hurl a chunk of debris at the back of his head, but that was irrelevant now. What mattered was that the enemy had escaped...and they had taken Ahsoka with them. He had inquired about her as soon as he had come to, and been told she was not among the dead (that, at least, was a relief) or wounded.
Obi-Wan felt a sickness that had nothing to do with his physical condition. He was used to rubbing Anakin's face in his mistakes, and now he was going to have to look his former pupil in the eye and say he had allowed his Padawan to be captured. Obi-Wan knew that would never have happened if Anakin had been there, but Anakin had been seriously wounded a few days before and was still recovering in a bacta tank. That, at least, gave Obi-Wan some time to redeem himself, although he seriously doubted he could find Ahsoka in the few days that remained until Anakin's full recovery. He was also afraid of what he would find.
The medics eventually got to him, and he left as soon as he was able, ignoring their protests. He made his way to the bridge, where he received a grim report on the aftermath of the Separatist attack. It appeared that the small enemy fleet had sustained some casualties, but most of the ships were able to escape to hyperspace. All in all, the results were pretty humiliating for the Republic forces and Obi-Wan in particular.
“Sir!”
An officer hurriedly approached Obi-Wan, interrupting his bitter musings.
“Private transmission for you sir. We have been unable to identify the source.”
Obi-Wan thanked the man and made his way to the holo chamber, hopeful and fearful at the same time. The transmission had to come from the enemy, which meant he might get a clue to their whereabouts, but he also dreaded what he might see and hear.
The doors hissed closed behind Obi-Wan as he strode toward the console and activated it. Rather predictably, he was greeted with the sight of General Grievous.
“General Kenobi!” the alien said mockingly. “So good of you to answer my call. How is your head doing?”
“Your concern for my health is appreciated,” snapped Obi-Wan. “Get on with it, Grievous.”
Grievous cackled, then coughed.
“I thought you Jedi considered patience a virtue. Very well. I simply wanted you to know that your friend Ahsoka Tano is alive and well, and enjoying my...hospitality. You must have been worried after you had so spectacularly failed to come to her aid.”
“If anything happens to her...” began Obi-Wan. Grievous waved a hand at him.
“Please, General, what sort of monster are you – cough, cough – taking me for? I am going to treat your friend like a gentleman. Here, let me show you.”
The view shifted, and an upright slab came into view, with Ahsoka strapped to it. There was a nasty bruise on her forehead, but she appeared fully conscious, as evidenced by her glare and the gag in her mouth. In spite of himself, Obi-Wan chuckled inwardly, imagining the names she must have called her captors.
“As you can see, Padawan Tano is resting comfortably,” Grievous said, gesturing at her. “We have placed a gag in her mouth so she doesn't say anything she will later regret, heh heh.”
“Let her go, you fiend!” said Obi-Wan. The sight of Ahsoka being so helpless made him angry, but there was something else, something he couldn't immediately identify.
“Let her go?” Grievous said with mock surprise. “But I am only just beginning to enjoy her company!” — He turned to look at Ahsoka, who glared at him. — “You are sweating, my dear. Is it too hot? Do forgive me, I do not feel such things as those of the flesh do. Here, this should help.”
Extending a hand, Grievous slowly drew a razor-sharp claw down the middle of Ahsoka's dress. Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat as it parted, revealing her flat stomach and the sides of her small breasts.
“What in blazes are you doing, Grievous?!” he shouted as he struggled with the realization that the sight excited him in a way it was not supposed to.
“Poor Obi-Wan,” purred Ventress, appearing on the other side of the slab. “He is so innocent he does not even know what the general is doing. How drab his life must be.” The assassin's hand slid down Ahsoka's stomach and disappeared beneath her belt. The Togruta's eyes widened in shock, as did Obi-Wan's.
“Run along now, little Kenobi,” Ventress said with a wicked smile. “Have whatever passes for fun in your life, while the grown-ups,” — her hand clenched beneath Ahsoka's dress, and the wide-eyed Padawan squirmed, — “have theirs.”
Grievous waved a mocking goodbye at Obi-Wan, and the hologram disappeared.
Obi-Wan let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and wiped sweat from his brow. He had seen a thing or two in his life, but nothing had shaken him as much as this short conversation. He would have been prepared if his enemies had simply tortured Ahsoka before his eyes; it would have been horrible, but expected. What he had felt upon seeing her treated in such a lascivious fashion had not been expected at all. Obi-Wan breathed deeply as he tried to calm his thoughts. He had never felt that way about her before...had he? Had he?
The Jedi shook his head, which still hurt, but neither the gesture nor the pain were able to drive away the truth, which was that Anakin's Padawan had, in fact, stirred improper urges in him, but, thanks to his mental discipline, they had been suppressed so fast he had not recognized them for what they were until now. Obi-Wan was horrified at the depths of his self-deception. The model Jedi Master, wise, prudent, perfectly controlled in every way...was that all just a façade? Allowing Ahsoka to be captured seemed trivial now. One could not always control the flow of battle, but Obi-Wan had believed he had, at least, mastered himself. Now it appeared he was barely in control. The sight of Ventress's hand doing...things beneath Ahsoka's belt had completely mesmerized him. A drunk Gamorrean could have thrown a punch at him at that moment, and he would have probably missed it. Even the memory was...
Obi-Wan shook his head again. He had a job to do. The war was still going on, and nobody was going to put it on hold for his sake. The Jedi turned and quickly left the room. There would be no time for self-doubt outside.
“Find out where that transmission originated,” he told the chief comms officer upon returning to the bridge. “Make this your top priority.”
Obi-Wan spent the next few hours dealing with the aftermath of the Separatist surprise attack. His fleet was supposed to reinforce a battle group dispatched to break an enemy blockade around a vital planet, and had been in the process of being resupplied when Grievous's attack came. Now the resupply efforts had to be doubled, and repairs undertaken quickly, lest Obi-Wan miss the schedule. He was thankful for the opportunity to immerse himself in work and forget about his failure as a warrior and a Jedi.
On the other side of the galaxy, Darth Sidious watched a recording of the conversation between Obi-Wan and his minions. The Sith Lord leaned forward as he studied Obi-Wan's reactions, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face. His gamble seemed to be paying off.
Obi-Wan's fleet was able to rendezvous with the main Republic force more or less on schedule, even though two of the ships had to be left behind due to the damage they had sustained. With the battle group facing the Separatist blockade, a council of war was convened in the war room. Beside the battle group commanders, Mace Windu, Yoda and Chancellor Palpatine were also present via hologram. The blockade was hurting the war effort, and therefore the upcoming battle received the highest attention. Battle plans and the relief effort that was to (hopefully) come afterwards were discussed. Naturally, Obi-Wan had to report the attack on his fleet and the subsequent communication he had received from Grievous, although he described the latter only in the most general terms.
“Troubling, this attack is,” said Master Yoda. “Too much knowledge of our movements, the enemy seems to have.”
“Indeed,” agreed Windu, “but the important thing for now is that the attack failed, although the capture of Padawan Tano is most unfortunate.”
“My communications staff are working on tracing the source of the transmission,” said Obi-Wan. “We will track down that scum and free her, I promise you that.”
“Others will do that, Master Kenobi,” Windu said sternly. “I understand your concern, but your place is right here, breaking the blockade. Do not allow anything to distract you from that goal.”
Obi-Wan was about to object, but changed his mind at the last moment.
“Of...course, Master Windu,” he said reluctantly. “I will do my duty.”
The discussion went on for some time. Finally, everything was settled, and the holograms winked out one by one. Only Palpatine's remained.
“Master Kenobi,” said the Chancellor, “could I have a word with you in private?”
“Of course, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied. “I will have the call transferred to my private holo chamber.”
The Jedi left the war room feeling more than a little uneasy. What could the Chancellor possibly want to discuss with him in private? He had already inquired after Anakin's health during the meeting, so it was not that. Obi-Wan stepped into the holo chamber and activated the console.
“Master Kenobi,” said the Chancellor. “I know you have a battle to prepare for, but I can tell that the capture of Anakin's student troubles you greatly.”
Obi-Wan hesitated. He had always been wary of the politician for reasons he could never adequately articulate, but there seemed to be genuine concern in the man's eyes, and he found that he desperately needed to share his plight.
“It is true,” the Jedi admitted. “Ahsoka means a lot to me. She, Anakin and I have been through a lot together, and, with him out of action, I feel like I was responsible for her – and still am.”
Palpatine nodded.
“I understand completely, Master Kenobi. I feel this way, too. Anakin is my friend, and, by extension, so are his friends. I know your superiors in the Jedi Order want you at the forefront of the battle, and I understand their reasoning, but I also understand your concern, so...if there is anything I can do to help rescue Anakin's Padawan, do not hesitate to ask.”
Obi-Wan was a little taken aback, but nodded.
“I appreciate it, Chancellor. I will let you know if anything comes up.”
“Contact me at any time, Master Kenobi. This matter is just as important to me as that of the blockade.”
Palpatine's hologram vanished. Obi-Wan stroked his beard pensively. He had never liked Palpatine, yet the man had just displayed more compassion and humanity than Master Windu. Obi-Wan knew perfectly well that Windu was right, and that he would have done the same in his position, but knowing it was right didn't make it feel right.
The memory of Ahsoka's dress parting surfaced in his mind, and Obi-Wan fled from the chamber. He was going to have to find the Padawan soon, for his sake as much as hers.
There was no time for self-doubt afterwards as the battle began, although Obi-Wan found that he would rather be in the thick of action swinging his lightsaber than directing fleet movements from the bridge. Such a craving for violence was unusual for the pensive Jedi Master, but, like his newfound feelings for Ahsoka, there was simply no time to dwell on it. The Separatists were dug in pretty well, if one can say that about starships, and, in spite of the Jedi fleet's best efforts, the ring around the planet remained unbroken, if chipped. As the fleet withdrew to a safe distance to regroup, Obi-Wan wondered darkly if the two ships he had left behind would have made a difference. He doubted it, and, in any case, the question was academic. At least, he could catch a little rest now. Obi-Wan was especially looking forward to a hot shower; conducting a space battle was surprisingly sweaty work. He made his way to his cabin while replaying the battle in his mind and trying to come up with suggestions for a revised strategy. Upon reaching his spartan quarters, the Jedi got undressed and walked into the cramped shower, sighing with relief as the hot water hit his body.
“What a mess,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “I wish Anakin were with us. This calls for one of his crazy plans.”
Saying Anakin's name brought Ahsoka's capture to the forefront of Obi-Wan's mind, and his mood darkened (not that he was particularly cheerful to begin with). At least, he was on a Republic battleship enjoying a shower, while she was at the mercy of General Grievous and that witch Ventress, who were probably doing unspeakable things to her. Obi-Wan desperately tried to suppress the memory of Ventress putting her hand where it had no business, but was not very successful. He suddenly wondered what it would feel like to put his hand there and gripped his head in horror. Decades of training and self-denial, of learning the ways of the Force, and now he was obsessing over a Padawan, thinking of her as an object of his pleasure while she was probably suffering. Obi-Wan made a fist and punched the wall with a snarl, hard enough to leave blood on it. He was a Jedi Master. He was better than this. He had faced trials that would have broken most men and triumphed. He was not going to be brought down by this. Obi-Wan took deep breaths as he regained his composure. “There is no emotion, there is peace”, he muttered, repeating the ancient mantra. “There is no passion, there is serenity”. His body relaxed. He felt in control again. He would burn out this newfound flaw in his character just as he had all others, and he would rescue Ahsoka, whatever it took. No one would ever have cause to doubt his perfection. With these thoughts, Obi-Wan finished his shower and allowed himself a few minutes of meditation before heading to the war room.
He left the council of war feeling frustrated. It was decided that the strength of the blockade had been underestimated, and more reinforcements were to be requested. How soon the request was going to be granted was anybody's guess; the Republic had already committed a lot to this venture. Until then, the fleet would assume a holding pattern. Even the patient Obi-Wan hated waiting, but he had no choice, so he made the most of his time by arranging his ships into a formation that would be least vulnerable to another surprise attack, which he considered likely. Once that was dealt with, Obi-Wan toured his cruiser to personally oversee the clone troopers' drills. It was not that he doubted his men's discipline, but a good commander had to stay in touch with his troops. Also, there was little else for him to do, and he would rather not be alone. He ended up joining a hand-to-hand combat drill himself. The clones were only too happy at the chance to test their skills against a Jedi's. Individually, they weren't a match for him, so Obi-Wan let them come at him three at a time. He left the training grounds an hour later, sweaty, bruised, sore, but happier than he had been in a while. The fighting had demanded complete focus, and all his concerns had been banished from his mind. He mused that this was a better form of meditation than sitting on one's ass and trying to feel the Force, but dismissed the thought as heretical. The Jedi Order did not share such a view, and he certainly was not about to question its wisdom. Still, he decided he should do it again sometime.
The next rotation passed without incident. Obi-Wan was feeling more in control now, although improper thoughts of Ahsoka still lurked at the back of his mind, and he dreaded Anakin's impending recovery more than he cared to admit. He visited his friend in the medical bay, trading smiles and gestures of encouragement with him through the glass of the bacta tank. Obi-Wan was profoundly grateful for the fact that talking to someone in a bacta tank was not possible. Even so, Anakin would soon start wondering why his Padawan had stopped dropping by. Obi-Wan decided it was best to delay his next visit for as long as possible. Anakin would be worried, but, at least, he would not be worrying about anything specific.
The relative equilibrium Obi-Wan had achieved was shattered when he received another transmission from Grievous. He had been about to leave the bridge and catch some sleep when he was informed of it. Steeling himself, Obi-Wan made his way to the holo chamber. He told himself before activating the console that he would not allow whatever he saw to upset his mental balance.
That proved to be easier said than done. When the hologram appeared, most of the view was taken up by General Grievous, but behind him Obi-Wan could see Ventress and Ahsoka. The Togruta was once again strapped to a slab, only this time the latter was tilted and not upright. Ventress was bent over her, doing something Obi-Wan could not see. Ahsoka was screaming. They were not screams of pain — Obi-Wan had seen enough war to know what a person in pain sounded like — but she was obviously in the grip of some extreme sensation. The Jedi could see her face, the Togruta's pretty features twisted into a grimace that looked bizarrely out of place and made her look like a stranger. Her horned head was tilted back, her mouth wide open as she screamed, her eyes screwed shut. Obi-Wan thought he saw tears streaming down her face. The muscles in the Padawan's bare arm were taut, her fist tightly bunched. Obi-Wan took this all in before Grievous said, “Greetings, General Kenobi!”
“Stop this!” Obi-Wan shouted, banging his fist on the console. “Stop this at once, Grievous!”
“Ooh, someone is angry,” drawled Ventress, looking at him over her shoulder. She paused in whatever she was doing, and Ahsoka's screaming stopped. Obi-Wan could see the Togruta taking quick shallow breaths, her eyes still screwed shut.
“You will both pay for this!” snarled Obi-Wan. Grievous and Ventress laughed.
“You really ought to be thanking us, General,” growled Grievous. “This is hardly the worst we could be doing, you know.”
“I think Kenobi is just jealous,” Ventress said with a smirk. “He is seething because we are the ones having all the fun, and all he can do is watch.”
Obi-Wan felt like he had been run through with a lightsaber. His shock was quickly followed by rage — at Ventress, and at the truth he knew she had just expressed.
“You will die, Ventress!” Obi-Wan screamed, pointing at her, his face red and spittle flying out of his mouth. “You will both die!”
The assassin rolled her eyes.
“I don't think we'll be hearing much sense out of him,” she said. “General, my arm is tired. Would you mind taking over?”
“With pleasure,” Grievous rasped, raising one of his arms. Obi-Wan saw that the clawed hand had been replaced with an ominous-looking appendage vaguely resembling a drill, with snaking cables at the base. The thing buzzed and crackled as Grievous turned toward Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of her naked form as Ventress stepped aside. The next instant, the hologram disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan shaking with rage and desire.
The general was tempted to replay the hologram to see Ahsoka's body again, but managed to summon enough willpower to resist the urge. He left the holo chamber in a huff and made his way to the bridge. People saluted him as he passed them by, but he paid them no heed. He had never been in such emotional turmoil before, not even back when he had dated Satine. His relationship with the Duchess had been more of the platonic sort, an attraction of minds. Anakin's young Padawan excited him on the purely physical level. It was her petite nubile body that he wanted, and her innocence only made the prospect of ravaging her more exciting, a fact that filled Obi-Wan with deep self-loathing.
Upon reaching the bridge, he summoned the chief comms officer.
“You have one rotation to find out where that transmission originated,” he told the startled man. “I do not care how you do it. If you fail, I will find somebody more capable to replace you.”
A lot of heads on the bridge had turned, attracted by Obi-Wan's unusually sharp tone and his disheveled, red-faced appearance. Realizing this, the Jedi stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat.
“Back to work, everyone!” he said in a more normal tone of voice. “Stay vigilant. I do not want us to be caught by surprise again.”
Obi-Wan left the bridge and headed for his quarters, as he had been about to do when he was informed of the transmission. Of course, there was no way he could go to sleep now, but, at least, he could try and meditate. He knew he could go back to the holo chamber and watch the recording again, but he crushed the thought. He had not fallen that deeply yet.
The memory of Ahsoka’s squirming nude form and Ventress’s mocking words made a joke of Obi-Wan’s meditation. Even sitting still was an effort, and the words of the Jedi mantra were little more than meaningless noise. After a few minutes, Obi-Wan leapt to his feet with a frustrated cry. He imagined attacking Ventress and Grievous, his enemies screaming as he hacked them apart with his lightsaber, and felt savage joy at the thought, but quickly chastised himself. This was even worse than fantasizing about Ahsoka; this was the Dark Side encroaching on his thoughts, and he reluctantly suppressed the revenge fantasy. It gave him an idea, however. He raised his arm and activated the comlink.
“Commander? I want ten of your best men in Training Hall A in five minutes’ time. Hand-to-hand practice. I shall join you shortly.”
The clones’ drills were finished for the day, but the Jedi Master’s word was law, and, as he strode into the training hall, he found ten clone troopers and their sergeant waiting for him. If they were tired, they showed no sign of it. The clones snapped to attention, and the sergeant saluted him.
“Ten of my best, as you requested, Master Kenobi,” he said, and then allowed a little informality to slip into his tone. “Feeling up for another bout, General?”
“Indeed, I am, sergeant,” Obi-Wan replied, flexing his shoulders. “I know it’s late, but war doesn’t care if you are tired.”
“Too true, sir, and good of you to remind the men of that. How’s it going to be? Three against one, like last time?”
“No,” Obi-Wan said, striding into the center of the hall and turning to face the clone troopers. “I shall fight all of them.”
The men exchanged glances.
“You sure you’re up to it, General?” one of them called, a scarred veteran with an insolent look in his eye. “We’re not gonna hold back on you.”
“Neither am I,” Obi-Wan said darkly, spreading his arms in a challenge. “Come, let’s see what you are made of.”
The men didn’t need to be told twice and rushed at him. Obi-Wan didn’t wait and charged to meet them, slamming into one of the men and knocking him to the ground. The melee was joined. At long last, Obi-Wan felt at peace, his world reduced to dodging, parrying, punching and kicking. Blows rained down on him from every direction, and he felt bones crack, but he gave as good as he got. Two of his opponents were already down, one knocked out, the other one wailing in pain as he clutched a broken arm. Seeing that he meant business, the remaining troopers came at him hard. One of them ran face-first into a lightning-fast spin kick that sent him reeling, and another received a crushing blow to his sternum, but then they were on him. True to the insolent veteran’s word, they did not hold back, and Obi-Wan realized that ten was probably more than he could handle as they started pummeling him like a punching bag. Bones snapped, blood spurted, and the pain threatened to overwhelm him, but then a black rage surged up from deep within, taking control. With a scream, Obi-Wan let the Force explode outward, hurling his attackers in all directions. He rose to his feet, bleeding, but no longer aware of the pain. The rage demanded to be fed, and he raised his arms, preparing to unleash the Force again and annihilate the creatures that had dared to lay their hands upon him, but, at the last moment, he caught the sergeant’s shocked stare, and the madness receded. His arms fell to his sides as shame and shock at what he had done filled him.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, swaying as the pain returned. “I didn’t mean to…sergeant, get some medics here at once!”
The man complied, speaking urgently into his comlink as Obi-Wan sank to one knee. Groans from the injured men filled the training hall, and the Jedi surveyed the damage, dreading the worst. To his relief, every clone trooper showed signs of life. The sergeant approached him warily.
“Are you all right, General?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine, sergeant,” Obi-Wan said with effort, avoiding the man’s eyes. “See to the men, they are the ones that need it.”
He ended up spending the night in the medical bay along with the troopers. They had done quite a lot of damage to him, though not nearly as much as he deserved, in his opinion. His mood was darker than it had been in years as he lay motionless on his cot, screened off from the outside world and hooked up to sophisticated medical equipment that was busy mending his body. Things were spinning out of control. Being caught by surprise by Separatists, losing Anakin’s Padawan, discovering that he wanted Anakin’s Padawan, and now this, nearly losing himself to the Dark Side. He wondered if Anakin had felt it. Given the young Jedi’s abilities, he probably had. The fact that Anakin was literally next door did not exactly ease Obi-Wan’s mind. Very soon, his former pupil would be out of his bacta tank, and then Obi-Wan would have a lot of explaining to do.
The only positive outcome of the ill-fated training session was that Obi-Wan was quickly overcome with fatigue and succumbed to sleep. If he dreamed, he did not remember any of it when he woke up several hours later. His injuries had mostly healed by then, and the recovery, combined with the much-needed rest, could not help but improve his disposition somewhat. At least, he had regained some measure of control over his emotions, and the confidence that he would get through this trial was rekindled. In spite of the medics' protests, he left his cot and checked on the injured clones, offering them his apologies. They assured him that no harm had been done and thanked him for a good fight. He could tell that not all them meant it, but there was nothing he could do about that, so he left the medical bay and headed for the bridge, thanking the Force for the fact that there had been no developments in the siege while he had been out of commission; if the Separatists had launched another surprise attack, or if new orders had come while the General was sleeping off the results of his own stupidity, that would have been utterly humiliating.
Obi-Wan never made it to the bridge. His comlink pinged, and he raised his arm to answer it.
“Yes?”
“Communications here, sir. There is another private transmission for you, from the Intolerant.”
Obi-Wan frowned. The Intolerant was one of the battleships forming the Separatist blockade, and had been from the start. Perhaps this transmission was not connected to the previous two.
“Very well, I shall take it. On my way there now.”
Altering his route, the Jedi quickly reached his private holo chamber and activated the projector, with more than a little trepidation. An image of Asajj Ventress appeared before him. It took Obi-Wan a couple of seconds to make sense of what he was seeing before he realized that the assassin was naked from the waist down and sitting astride Ahsoka's head, her hand on one of the horns. The Jedi Master tried to form words and failed miserably.
“Hello there, Obi-Wan,” purred the Sith, sounding slightly breathless. “We thought you might be worried about your friend, so we decided to give you another call to let you know she was doing all right. Better than all right, even.” – Ventress bared her teeth, and her stomach muscles tensed in apparent pleasure. – “I have found that her mouth is quite something when you put it to proper use. Not that you will ever know, Jedi.”
“I am told you are transmitting from the Intolerant,” Obi-Wan managed, forcing himself to look at Ventress's face as sweat started trickling down his own. “What trickery is this, Ventress? You can't be on that ship!”
“Can we?” rasped General Grievous, walking into the frame and blocking the disturbing sight. “I would have thought you'd know better than to underestimate us, General Kenobi. A small stealth ship – cough, cough – was all it took to slip through your ranks.” – The alien glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Obi-Wan with amusement. – “How does it feel, Jedi, to know that we are having our way with your friend's Padawan right under your nose, and you are powerless to do anything about it?”
Grievous stepped outside the frame before Obi-Wan could reply, and his words died in his throat as he saw Ventress gripping both of Ahsoka's horns and pressing the Padawan's face into her crotch, the Sith's features twisted with perverse pleasure. He felt horror, both at the sight, and the overwhelming need to experience what Ventress was feeling.
“Figuratively speaking,” Grievous said, passing behind Ventress, “we are doing the same to you as the assassin is currently doing to Padawan Tano.” – He reappeared a couple of seconds later, blocking the view again and looking Obi-Wan in the eye. – “I am beyond such experiences, but I must say, General, I am having just as much fun as she is. Watching your pathetic face is priceless.”
Obi-Wan cut the transmission and gripped the edges of the table, shaking. It took him a while to reassert control of himself, but, finally, he straightened up and brought up his comlink.
“Lieutenant?”
“Sir?”
“Are you absolutely certain the transmission originated on the Intolerant?”
“Yes, General, I have double-checked. It came from that ship, there is no doubt.”
“Very well. Get me Chancellor Palpatine on my private channel.”
“The Chancellor, sir?” There was hesitation in the man’s voice.
“That’s what I said, Lieutenant. Do it now. If they say he is busy, tell them it’s an emergency.”
“Yes, sir.”
Obi-Wan paced the small room, its silence and solitude oppressive and claustrophobic. Minutes that felt like hours dragged by. At last, a hologram of the Supreme Chancellor appeared in the air, and he wheeled toward it with something close to desperation.
“Master Kenobi!” – The old man looked down at him with concern. – “You don’t look too good. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I mean, no.” – Obi-Wan took a deep breath to steady himself and continued. – “I have just received another transmission from Grievous and Ventress. They are on the Intolerant, one of the blockade ships. They slipped past our force using a stealth ship. Ahsoka is with them.”
“They are inside the blockade?” the Chancellor asked, sounding surprised. “Are you certain of this, General?”
“I am.”
Palpatine appeared pensive for a few seconds, then nodded.
“That changes everything. I don’t know what possessed Grievous to expose himself like that, but we would be even bigger fools if we failed to take advantage of his misstep. I shall dispatch more reinforcements immediately, pull them from other engagements if I have to. In a day, two, at most, they will be there, and then – ”
“No!” Obi-Wan said vehemently. “Chancellor, I –“ – He almost said, “I won’t last that long”, but corrected himself at the last moment. – “We do not have that long. If Grievous has a stealth ship, he could escape again at any moment, and they – they keep torturing Ahsoka, and I don’t know how much more she can take. If anything happens to her, I could never forgive myself.”
Palpatine stroked his chin, then nodded again.
“Valid points, General. An immediate strike, then. Forget about the blockade and concentrate on the Intolerant. Cripple it, then board it while the fleet keeps the rest of the enemy force at bay for as long as possible. Find Grievous and Ventress and capture or kill them, and rescue Anakin’s Padawan while you are at it. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a good plan, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding eagerly.
“It’s decided, then. Make haste to the war room so we can inform the others and work out the details.”
“At once, Chancellor. And…thank you.”
“Please, Master Kenobi, I am only doing my duty, both to the Republic and to my friends.” – Palpatine smiled that cryptic little smile of his. – “I am sure we will be celebrating victory before long, with Anakin and his Padawan among us. Now go.”
Obi-Wan nodded and left the chamber at a brisk pace, his hope rekindled.
The council was concluded swiftly. Some of the battle group commanders had voiced objections to the plan, citing the horrific losses the proposed attack would incur, but Palpatine had silenced them by pointing out that a much bigger blow would be dealt to the Separatists if Grievous were killed or taken captive. Before long, a space battle was raging above the besieged planet. At Palpatine’s suggestion, one of the battle group’s ships was sacrificed right away, ramming into the Separatist front line and taking one of their ships with it to its grave. While the Separatists were reeling from the sudden blow, the rest of the Republic ships poured into the breach, heedless of the damage they were taking, and opened fire on the Intolerant. Two of them were already burning, but the Intolerant had been unprepared for such attentions, and its shields were almost down. With little room to maneuver, all it could do was stand its ground and fight back. Swarms of fighters had emerged from Republic and Separatist ships alike and engaged in battles of their own. Like their motherships, the Republic fighters had only one goal: to clear a path to the Intolerant and keep the enemy fighters occupied while a sortie of dropships carrying several detachments of clone troopers and three Jedi Masters, including Obi-Wan, made their way to the enemy ship’s hangar bay. With nowhere to run, General Grievous would finally answer for his crimes.
In the meantime, General Grievous himself was on the Intolerant’s bridge coordinating the Separatist forces. He was distracted from his duties by a priority transmission. The alien went to one knee as the hooded figure of Darth Sidious appeared before him.
“General,” grated the Sith Lord. “Report.”
“The Intolerant’s shields are down, and she has taken heavy damage, Lord,” Grievous responded. “The Republic has lost four ships so far, while we have lost three.” – He shifted uncomfortably. – “We could inflict much heavier losses on them, but, as you have ordered, I am drawing out the battle. It will not be long before the enemy attempt to launch a boarding action.”
“Very good, General. You know what to do once they are aboard.”
“Yes, my Lord, I…” – Grievous hesitated. – “Forgive me, Lord, but…wouldn’t it be easier just to crush them all?”
Sidious inclined his head a fraction. Even though his face was hidden in the depths of his hood, Grievous seemed to shrink under his glare.
“If I always did things the easy way, you would not be kneeling before me now, General,” the Sith Lord said icily. “This is not about crushing the enemy, but gaining a powerful ally, as you are well aware. I know you have…strong personal feelings about General Kenobi, but I would be most displeased if you allowed them to interfere with my plans.”
“I am but an instrument of your will, my Lord,” Grievous rasped, bowing deeply.
“For your sake, I hope you are, General,” Sidious replied before disappearing.
The fighting in the hangar bay was hard, but the clone troopers, led by the three Jedi, were able to overcome the droid defenders and establish a foothold. The plan was to make a push for the bridge, which was the most likely location of General Grievous, but, like so many plans, it did not survive its encounter with reality. The PA system came to life just as the attackers were about to push on, and Asajj Ventress’s voice echoed throughout the ship.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the assassin drawled. “I didn’t know you had it in you, but, since you are here, you may have to hurry. I have grown bored of your friend’s Padawan. So bored, in fact, that I may kill her unless someone takes her off my hands very soon, and, by someone, I mean you, Obi-Wan. Come quickly, and come alone, if you want to find Ahsoka Tano alive. To make it easier for you, I’ll activate a beacon you can lock on to. Any droids you meet will still attack you, though. We wouldn’t want to make things too easy, would we?”
“Obi-Wan,” one of the Jedi Masters said as soon as Ventress had finished speaking, “we need your help taking down Grievous, and this is an obvious trap.”
Obi-Wan hesitated. He knew the man was right on both counts, and a small part of him that he loathed whispered that Ahsoka’s death would solve a lot of problems. Still, he shook his head.
“Sorry, my friend. I know you are right, but I can’t let Ahsoka die. Anakin would never abandon me if I were in her position, and he would never forgive me if I abandoned her. I would not forgive myself, either. There are still two of you, not to mention a company of clone troopers. You can take Grievous without me.”
The other two looked like they were about to argue, but Obi-Wan’s determined look stilled their objections.
“So be it,” the first one said with a nod. “May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.”
“And with you, brothers. Make him pay.”
They parted, Obi-Wan taking a route that led him away from the bridge and toward the signal that was supposed to lead him to Ahsoka. He didn’t bother trying to be stealthy; he was running out of time, and, once again, he found himself itching for a fight. Here, in enemy territory, he did not have to restrain himself anymore. True to Ventress’s word, battle droids tried to stop him, and he went through them like a hurricane. Before long, his robes were sporting numerous tears and burns, and he was bleeding in several places, but he never slowed down, heaps of scrap metal marking his passage. Soon, he found himself facing a set of double doors, from behind which the signal originated, and two Magnaguards blocking his way. Obi-Wan used to Force to smash them together and crush them until they were a shapeless lump of metal. He was dimly aware that he was doing things even Anakin would be impressed by, but he didn’t care. Stepping over the guards’ remains, he approached the double doors, and they parted, admitting him.
Obi-Wan felt like he had stepped into another world. The faint sounds of the battle taking place at the other end of the ship were cut off completely as the doors slid closed behind him, leaving only soft music that was slow and hypnotic. The air was heavy with a strange fragrance, and the room itself was all thick carpets, plump armchairs, exquisite sculptures, exotic plants and soft candle light. Obi-Wan has seen such interiors in palaces and luxury hotels, but never on a battleship. At the far end of the room was a large four-poster bed, looking almost like a mirage in the hazy air and shimmering light. Obi-Wan disabled the tracker, which had served its purpose, and cautiously approached the bed, his lightsaber active and his heart pumping. Through the gauze curtains drawn around the bed, he could make out a silhouette, and he knew who it was even before the curtains parted at a wave of his hand. His breath caught in his throat.
Ahsoka Tano was reclining on the huge velvet pillows at the head of the bed, seemingly asleep, one arm outstretched, the other folded across her midsection, legs extended, one atop the other. The Togruta was wearing sharovary pants and a matching top that were so sheer as to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The sight hit Obi-Wan even harder than the holograms Grievous and Ventress had shown him. For a few seconds, he was transfixed as arousal the likes of which he had never experienced threatened to overwhelm him. With an enormous effort, he fought it down, turned off his lightsaber and returned it to his belt.
“Ahsoka,” he said hoarsely.
The Togruta didn’t react. Trembling, Obi-Wan climbed onto the bed, awkwardly crawled over to where Ahsoka was resting and shook her on the shoulder.
“Ahsoka!”
The Padawan’s turned her head toward him, her eyelids fluttering. She smiled as she saw his face, and stretched, her nipples straining the diaphanous fabric. Obi-Wan’s pants were under a much greater strain in the crotch region.
“Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka slurred, her eyes struggling to stay focused on him; she seemed to be under the influence of some sort of drug. “My knight in shining armor, come to rescue me.”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered, licking his parched lips. “Yes, uh, we need to get going. Can you walk?”
“Mmm…” – Ahsoka sank back onto the pillows, bending one leg so that the knee pointed upward. – “What’s the rush, Master? Surely we can stay for a few more minutes.” – She gave him a mischievous look from beneath her half-closed eyelids.
“Ahh…” Obi-Wan managed, struggling to form words.
“Come on, Master Obi-Wan.” – She raised her hand and brushed her fingertips across his cheek, momentarily stopping his heart. – “You are always so tense and uptight. Don’t you know how to have fun? I can show you.” – Her leg leaned against him.
“We…we need to get going,” Obi-Wan croaked. “There’s…a battle going on…the ship…”
“Oh, just drop it, will you?” a familiar voice said from behind them. Obi-Wan wheeled around, his lightsaber in his hand and pointing at Asajj Ventress, who observed him from the center of the room with an amused expression.
“Ventress!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she said, taking a step forward. “Watching you cling to your pathetic Jedi dogma is just too much for me. We all know why you are really here, Obi-Wan. Why keep pretending?”
“I…I have no idea what you are talking about, witch!” Obi-Wan spat, his hand shaking.
“Oh, I think you do. Even from here, I can see that the lightsaber in your hand isn’t the only one that’s activated.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“Come on, Obi-Wan. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Little Ahsoka has learned so much in my care, and there is so much more I can teach you both.” – The assassin’s eyes seemed to glow as she took another step toward him. – “Embrace the Dark Side, Obi-Wan, and she will be yours to do with as you please! Your new apprentice, ready to obey her Master! This is what you want. Take it!”
Obi-Wan’s gaze was drawn to Ahsoka as she moved. The Togruta turned over and started raising her bottom, and Obi-Wan knew with complete certainty that, as soon as he got a good look at what was between her legs, he would be lost. There was only one thing left to do. With a desperate scream, Obi-Wan summoned the last dregs of his willpower, reversed the grip on his lightsaber and stabbed down at his crotch.
The pain was agonizing, but pain was something a Jedi Master was trained to resist. Obi-Wan used it to burn away the fog of temptation and regain control of his mind. Time seemed to slow as clarity returned to him. Turning off his lightsaber, he thrust the hand gripping it toward Ventress, lashing out with the Force. The assassin, who had been gaping at him in total shock, flew across the room, hit the wall and tumbled to the floor in a heap. She did not look like she would be getting up any time soon.
“Master?” Ahsoka said. She was frowning, her expression confused and wary as she sat up unsteadily. “Are you all right? What…where are we?”
“I am all right,” Obi-Wan said firmly, ignoring the burning pain in the place where his genitals used to be. “We are on an enemy ship and need to get out. Can you walk?”
They made it back to the hangar bay unimpeded, Obi-Wan supporting Ahsoka as she walked on unsteady legs. They were not a moment too soon, reaching their destination at the same time as a small party of clone troopers from the assault team, with battle droids hot on their heels. Apparently, the attempt to take down Grievous had failed, both Jedi Masters were dead, and the few survivors were in full retreat. The news hit Obi-Wan hard, but he distanced himself from the grief just as he had distanced himself from the pain. A cold, clear appraisal of the situation told him there was nothing further to be gained on the Intolerant. The perimeter troops gave their lives holding off the droids while the dropships carrying Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and what was left of the assault team took off and headed back to their motherships. One was shot down by an enemy fighter, but it was not the one Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were on. Their ship made it safely to the Fist Of the Chancellor, and Obi-Wan immediately handed the semi-conscious Ahsoka over to the medics. The Jedi Master himself refused all but the most basic treatment and made his way to the bridge to help coordinate the space battle. Predictably, it was not going well. Mirroring the assault team on the Intolerant, the Republic battle group was all but routed, and was desperately trying to disengage. The remaining blockade ships had moved to encircle them, and General Grievous was ecstatic as he prepared to do what he believed had been the right idea all along, that is, to crush the enemy completely. He would be denied, however. Once the Jedi Council had learned of the attack – the Supreme Chancellor had not deigned to notify them until it was already underway – they had dispatched additional forces, small, but closer to the action than what Palpatine had sent. Those few ships, breaking from hyperspace when all seemed lost, made all the difference. Recognizing that the Republic forces were no longer hopelessly outmatched, and that more were on the way, Grievous chose to withdraw. The blockade was thus finally lifted, albeit at a high cost. Obi-Wan had been actively engaged in the battle, feeling energized and focused in spite of everything he had been through, but, as soon as the Separatist ships had turned tail and run, he had passed out where he stood.
Anakin and Ahsoka called on him in the medical bay about a day later. He was in the middle of reading a report on a data slate when the screen around his bed parted, admitting his friends. Obi-Wan smiled as he saw them.
“Anakin! Good to finally see you outside of a bacta tank!”
“Good to know you didn’t need one.” – Anakin looked at him with some concern. – “Are you sure you don’t need one? I, uh, heard about what Ventress did…”
“It’s quite all right, I have already been fitted with cybernetic replacements for the, ah, body parts I have lost. They work just as well as the originals.”
“If you say so,” Anakin replied, a little dubiously. “Anyway, I understand I have you to thank for saving my Padawan.”
Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head.
“You have me to thank for getting her in trouble in the first place.”
“You didn’t get me in trouble, Master Obi-Wan,” said Ahsoka. “We were both doing our duty and we both knew the risks. You just knew them a little better than I did,” she added sheepishly.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better now. I…don’t remember much of what happened while a was a prisoner. Probably a side effect of the drug they gave me. I do remember that they did something horrible to me, and that you were a real hero as you came to save me.”
Obi-Wan studied her intently, both with his eyes and with the Force. He could tell she was not being quite sincere, but, after brief consideration, he decided to let it go. If that was the story she wanted to go with, he saw no reason to contradict her.
“I know either of you would have done no less for me,” he said. “I mourn for our brothers that were slain by Grievous, but I do not regret the choice I made. You can always kill an enemy, but you can’t bring a friend back from the dead.” As he said it, Obi-Wan was supremely happy that that was all he now saw in Ahsoka – a friend. He had been tested, but not found wanting. He was, once again, the model Jedi Master, and his only regret was that he had not gotten those cybernetic replacements a lot earlier.
Thousands of light years away, Count Dooku was conferring with his master. The conversation was drawing to a close, the two men having discussed almost everything of relevance, but there was a question Dooku wanted to ask, to see his master’s reaction.
“My Lord, your plan to turn Obi-Wan Kenobi…” he began.
“Has failed, as you are well aware,” Sidious cut across him. “Who would have thought that the Jedi would resort to such…drastic measures?” – He shook his head slightly. – “No matter. I am no stranger to failure and always factor it into my plans. Even though I wasn’t able to convert or destroy Kenobi, two other Jedi Masters lie dead, along with thousands of Republic troops. Their deaths have fed the Dark Side considerably, and the stronger it grows, the closer our ultimate victory draws. It simply will not come quite as quickly as if the plan had worked.”
“As ever, I am humbled by your wisdom, Master,” Dooku said with a bow.
“Quite so. As for that Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, that your apprentice had so much fun with,” – the Sith Lord’s lips twitched to form a momentary smirk, – “I may still have a use for her.”
FIN
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The Master's Trial