#obi wan x siri

[the-delta-42]

An AU where Satine didn't die

Satine: *To Bo* This time next year, I'll be Obi-Wan's second wife. Bo: What do you mean 'second' what happened to the first one? Satine: Ah, Siri. Tragic really, she got shot.

[handmaidenofamidala]

Obi-Wan x Siri:

Childhood friends to lovers, workwives, growing up together and navigating the tension that is the emotional detachment of two Jedi knights, mom and dad energy as they grow up to mentor Ferus and Anakin, her fate is heartbreaking for both the reader and Obi-Wan as we truly got to know this character.

Obi-Wan X Satine:

Bootleg anidala, she appears for one arc and is killed off before we get to properly know her so her death is only upsetting because of Obi-Wan's reaction. Obi-Wan admitting he would leave the Order if his girl asked is not in line with his character. Also, her pacifism and politics made little to no sense.

[knightofthenewrepublic]

Anyone else who read the Jedi Apprentice series watching Skeleton Crew now?

At Attin was giving me vibes a little similar to Kegan, the planet Obi-wan and Siri had to go to evil high school at.

It's not quite the same, Kegan was a lot more overtly dystopian. But they both had isolationism, mass surveillance, and having your job be assigned to you. This really feels like a planet you'd see in the old Legends kids books

[comebackali]

Jedi Quest The Changing of the Guards. We are already starting out STRONG with Obi-wan watching Anakin be annoyed by senate bureaucracy:

(& being impressed with him, noting his growth, saying he’s a MAN now 💕)

vs. Obi-wan watching Siri be annoyed at senate bureaucracy:

Whelp there it is:

[kittystargen3]

A time traveling Grandmaster, to the Prequel Era, trying to fix the mistakes the Jedi made, and get rid of a certain Sith too. Only Time Travel is not that easy, as Yoda will soon learn.

Today I've added a new chapter to Time Travel: To the Past Yoda Goes. Below is a small selection. Please go to the links above to read more.

Chapter 62 - The Grandmaster

“The L-Drives go here…” Tilleck’s attention was drawn away toward a group of Jedi walking down the hall outside.  He couldn’t imagine his luck, getting a job here, of all places.  What will it be like working at the Temple?  Side by side with real Jedi! 

“... And the bolt cutters are behind the C-Bolts.” Ribou Nenn finished. “Did you get that?”

“Yeah, yeah.  I’m sorry.  I’m just a little wowed to be working here, of all places.” Tilleck confessed.  

“Yeah, the Temple.”  Ribou’s eyes sympathetically emulated his shock.  

“Do the Jedi ever hang out?” Tilleck whispered the last two words like they were a secret.

“The Knights don’t really hang, they meditate.  The Jedi code doesn’t preclude us from forming friendships outside of the order, but most knights won’t be easy to start a conversation with.”

“Us… No wait! You’re a Jedi?”  Tilleck’s mouth dropped open.  Ribou was introduced as a co-worker.  He thought he was another engineer or tradesman.  That he could’ve been standing here with one of them all this time and not known… He was amazed!

“I am temple trained, though my path has been different than most knights.”  Ribou confessed. 

Tilleck smiled.  “We can be friends, though.  Eeh, Eeh?” he continued to pester until Ribou nodded.  “Great, my first Jedi friend.”

“Do you understand the mechanical bench, or do I need to go over it again?”  

“I’ve got it.  L-drives and C-Bolts.”  Tilleck parroted.  

“Good, What’s next?” Ribou seemed to ask himself.  

Tilleck heard the clang as the hangar door opened.  It seemed a ship was returning to the Temple now.  

This sparked an idea for Ribou.  “I can go over the Ingress procedure.”  He grabbed a clipboard with a form on it from the desk and handed it to Tilleck.  “This way.”

Ribou led him up the ship's ramp.  Tilleck remembered earlier, Ribou had said something about not going up to a ship while the Jedi were still onboard.  And he didn’t think they’d left enough time for anyone to deboard.  But he wasn’t the one with experience here, and he wasn’t force-trained either.  If Ribou wanted them to look at this ship now, he was going to trust him.   

The door opened, and a Tall Jedi with dark skin stepped out.  Ribou immediately bowed.  “Master Windu, I’m sorry.”  

Master Windu didn’t blink an eye.  It was almost like he was used to peasants kneeling at his feet when he stepped off a ship.  He looked down at the hangar with a gruff eye, appraising the whole place to be beneath him.  After he cleared the door, another Jedi emerged, and after him, another four.  

Ribou lifted his head, and backed up towards Tilleck.  “Something’s wrong here.” he whispered.  

Tilleck felt confused.  He didn’t know what was going on, but then he knew the best way to get things in order was to act like they were.  “Greetings Masters.  How did she perform for you?  Does her engine need a tune up?”  

Their attention was drawn towards him as one.  Tilleck didn’t know how Ribou was handling it, but he was sweating buckets.  Before today, he’d never actually met a real Jedi.  His interviews for the position were with a friend of his professor, who’s recommendation actually got him the job.  But if working under them felt like this, he was considering quitting the job and moving offworld.  He’d heard Corellia was always desperate for mechanics.   

The attention of the Jedi slipped past him quickly to Ribou.  “The star, show him.  Talk backwards, why do I?”  One of the Jedi, a short green female, said.  

“It’s biological.  I can explain it later, but you won’t get it.” said another, a human male with red hair.  

Windu stepped up holding a staff.  At the top of the staff, a cloth was tied, covering its top.  The Jedi walked past Tilleck and up to Ribou.  

“The ship suited us well.  Her engines do need upgrades, but for all purposes, they ran just fine.”  The redhead turned to Tilleck, distracting him from seeing what the other was doing to Ribou.  

“Oh, alright.  I’ll make a note of that.”  Tilleck replied.  He didn’t know for sure, but there must be a way to make the notes on the forms.  He’ll ask Ribou later.  

Meanwhile, Windu seemed to pull the cover back over the staffhead. Did he have it off?  Ribou nodded to him.  Then Windu turned and walked back to the others.  

Tilleck stepped past him to get to Ribou, and he whispered, “Is everything alright.”  

“Yeah,” Ribou shook his head.  “Clean the ship, I’m going to go with them to visit the Council.”  

“Hmm?” Tilleck questioned.  As an engineer it wasn’t his job to clean any of the ships in the hangar.  Though sometimes wiping the harddrive is referred to as cleaning by his peers at the university.  He supposed Ribou could mean that.  But then why wouldn’t he just say so?

“We will leave a few here to help you.  I want the ships prepared to fly out in a few hours.  There are still subgroups in the galaxy?” Windu looked at the group, and one who was tall with brown hair nodded to him in reply.  “Good, Sidious, you stay here with the other three.”

“What!  Nosa, me gos wit yousa.”  Sidious, a Gungan, responded.  Tilleck had read a paper about the species in one of his university classes.  Doubtless whatever led him to be here was a part of an interesting tale.  

Windu rolled his eyes.  “Fine, The others are still onboard.  They will help you with your tasks.”

Tilleck bowed as Ribou before had done, “Yes, Master Jedi.”  

To that title, Windu seemed to wince, before schooling his face and turning to lead the others out of the Hangar.   

Tilleck looked down at the form he still carried.  The first part was asking about fuel expenditures, and he figured he’d start there.  He’d meet these “Other three,” on the way, probably, and hopefully they would know more about procedure here.  

[sirikenobi12]

"Bane did not want his legacy to be his lineage,” Zannah corrected. “Bane chose those he felt would be strong enough in the Force to continue his own life.”

“He thought he could cheat death using essence transfer?” He asked.

“No, he thought he could conquer death.” She coldly replied.

(Or - the past always has a way of coming back to haunt you)

[sira365]

I Found You In The Shadows of The Lantern Glow

pairing:  Obi-Wan Kenobi/Siri Tachi rating: general audiences word count: 2.9k ao3 • star wars masterlist

Summary: Carrying the weight of his deception, Obi-Wan Kenobi wanders Theed. Siri Tachi is on a mission, with the added burden of grief. The whole planet of Naboo is celebrating the Festival of Light, its streets overflowing with life, a dazzling spectacle to behold. Nights like this uncover more than just the beauties of the galaxy.

A/N: Story concept inspired by "Green Jade Festival - Lantern Festival” , a poem by Xin Qiji written in the Song dynasty.

眾裏尋他千百度，驀然回首，那人卻在，燈火闌珊處。 «青玉案·元夕» 辛棄疾 A thousand times, I searched for her in the crowds. When all of a sudden, I turned around, And saw her there in the dim lantern light. “Green Jade Festival - Lantern Festival”  Xin Qiji

In one the many rooms of the Theed Royal Palace, two Jedi Masters convened, handling the aftermath of an undercover mission that successfully thwarted a devious Separatist plot to kidnap the Chancellor of the Republic.

     “I guess I can’t put this off any longer.” Obi-Wan half-heartedly said, his chuckle uncharacteristically rough and low.

     “That is indeed the case. Rako Hardeen’s voice in your body is an unsettling combination, Master Kenobi.” Mace Windu stood to the side of the room, his lips unmistakably curved upwards. Despite his stoic manner and composed temperament, he was unable to hide his amusement towards his colleague’s plight.

     Sighing, Obi-Wan moved his wrist towards himself, tapping a few buttons on the screen of his communicator. A hazy blue projection popped up, displaying the words ‘Confirm Voice Modulator Ejection’ in a cool, fluorescent white. 

     “Well, let’s get this over with.”  He looked over at Master Windu, hoping for some verbal support, only to be met with the same bemused grin. 

     The moment he hit select, the spider-like modulator began folding out its legs, making Obi-Wan cough at the sudden irritation in his throat. The modulator started its ascent from his larynx, crawling up, its metal claws digging into the walls of his neck. Obi-Wan forced himself to sit down on a chair, choking on the clawing contraption. Even the experience he had with the device when he first swallowed it down did not prepare him for the discomfort of it going out. 

     “Breathe through your nose, Obi-Wan.” Master Windu called out from where he stood, sympathetic. 

     Finally, in what felt like an eternity, the modulator fell out of his mouth and onto the floor, leaving Obi-Wan wheezing like a Boonta Eve podracer engine (and pilot) in its wake. 

     Master Windu placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, steadying his reeling form. 

     Obi-Wan said between pants, “I hope I never have to do this again.”

     “Thank the Force you’re not a Shadow, my friend.” 

     “Bless their souls.” Obi-Wan carefully rose from his chair, holding onto Mace Windu’s arm. 

     Droids, battlefields and Sith Lords had all wanted to render Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi to such a deficient state, but a puny, little voice modulator beat them to it.

     Such were the strange contradictions of the galaxy. 

     Siri Tachi was on a mission to gather intel on San Hill, the Chairman of the InterGalactic Banking Clan and heavy financial backer of Separatist forces. Her investigation led her to discover unusual monetary transactions between the banking clan and an unnamed party that peculiarly operated out of Naboo. The strangeness did not end there. With further digging, she found that all the assets involved in the exchange could be traced back to an account held by Damask Holdings, a Muunilinst entity that had dissolved years ago. 

     She managed to identify a broker who frequently worked with Hill. The middleman was native to Naboo, and was back on the planet, apparently for the Festival of Light. Siri found it quite ironic that a man who sold out the Republic for a living would be so committed to the holiday.  Alas, analyzing the complex intricacies of human behavior was not a part of her job, and she followed him all the way to Theed with no further questions.

     Siri waited in front of a fruit stall, pretending to check out fresh produce. She picked up a starfruit, but her focus wasn’t on its texture or weight. The stall was conveniently right across a candied Shuura stand, where her target was patiently standing in line. The man sure had a sweet tooth, Siri thought to herself, he’d already had Theed’s signature plasma cloud dessert and a Jogan fruit tart earlier. 

     Siri loved a good night out, but it was taking an awfully long time for this man to go back home, whose whereabouts Siri was trying to locate. She’d broken into his work office a few days ago, but couldn’t find the documents she was looking for. She figured he probably kept them somewhere closer. 

     Intel gathering missions normally took a considerable amount of time, and Siri was a forbearing woman, but she didn't like how this assignment was dragging on. This operation had been rough, and it wasn’t because of the nature of the task itself, though Siri wished it was.

     She was meeting up with a contact in a seamy bar when she found out.

     "Kenobi's fucking dead!" 

     "Remind me to give Rako Hardeen a call to congratulate him. Fucking mad lad, that one."

     "A Jedi got knocked out by a sniper?"

     "I'll drink to that!"

     She remembered the laughter that had erupted, the boasts, the toasts, and the liberal flow of alcohol. She had a front row seat to the celebration of Obi-Wan Kenobi's murder.

     She didn’t believe it at first, there was no way that Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master and General of the Grand Army of the Republic, could have been taken out by something as uncivilized as a blaster shot. That was not a death worthy of a man as insolent as Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was not how her crechemate, her dear friend, was supposed to go. But then she saw it on the Holonews the next day, bold and underlined. It wasn't a headline one could easily miss. 

     She had swallowed down her emotions upon hearing the confirmation.  She had been in the middle of hacking into a computer terminal and security patrols could have stopped by her floor at any moment, she couldn’t afford to be distracted. It was just her luck that she’d had to find out through a television set left on after hours in an office building.

     Even with the restraint of a Jedi, a part of her floated between utter disbelief and grief at the passing of Obi-Wan. Maybe it was because she was so far away from home when she found out, or maybe it was because she didn’t want to accept that he was gone, but the weight of Obi-Wan’s death hadn’t quite sunken in yet. She just wanted to finish up the mission and head back to the Temple. She knew she had to see his grave. His departure had been so sudden and so unthinkable , she needed to see a headstone, an engraving, something tangible , to understand that Obi-Wan Kenobi was truly, irrevocably, one with the force. 

     Her target happily munched on his candied Shuura. The confection was served on a stick, and the man eagerly rotated and adjusted the skewer to get new bites while ambling along the street. Siri continued trailing him. 

     Turning into a less busy road that led to more residential parts of Theed, Siri’s wishes were granted, the man was ready to turn in for the night. The pavements became dimmer and eventually began to lead up a hill. Benches lined the trail, occupied by doting couples. She was concerned that she would look out of place in what seemed to be a popular courting spot, but figured if she walked like she knew where she was going, it would appear that she was on her way to an intended destination. 

     Siri was thirty meters behind the dealer when he stopped at the top of the hill. Siri saw him crouch next to a tree, his bent form outlined by the glow of a lantern hanging from a branch, seemingly to catch his breath. She noted his unfit state and filed this piece of information away in a corner of her mind. Must be all the desserts, she considered. 

     By the time she reached the hilltop, the man was a quarter of the way along the trail that led downhill. There were less people on this path, and she figured continuing her pursuit would raise the man’s suspicions. She’d seen him glance backwards a few times, though not at her specifically. She had a pretty good view of the rows of houses beneath the hill from up here anyway. All she had to do to find his address was to keep an eye on him as he walked back to his house, a simple affair. 

     Hopefully, she would find the papers and contracts in his home tomorrow afternoon, then she’d be well on her way back to Coruscant by nightfall. She blinked away a few stray emotions at the thought of returning to the Temple. She wanted this mission to end, and she wanted to go home, but home wasn’t going to feel the same now, not anymore. 

     Siri leaned her arm against the tree. To any observer, it would look like she was admiring Theed’s nighttime cityscape. Standing in the shadow of a lantern's glow, she watched and waited.

     Senator Padme Amidala had kindly invited the Jedi to join the official celebrations for the Festival of Light, extending their stay on Naboo.  Mace Windu took pity on Obi-Wan for having to suffer through an excruciating voice modulator extraction, and offered to complete his administrative duties for him, giving him a well-deserved night off. Thus, Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself with a rare commodity in his hands, free time. 

     If one finds themselves in Theed during the Festival of Light, a spectacular commemoration of Naboo joining the Galactic Republic, not taking the opportunity to revel in the festivities would be a crime against merriment, and Obi-Wan was far from a criminal.

     Strolling through a buzzing crowd, he reached into the force, feeling it hum with joy and happiness. The streets of Theed were teeming with life. Vendors set up shop along the roads, glow sticks and other festive ephemera brightly on display. Children ran after each other with their lanterns, the masses no barrier to their chase. Teenagers chattered in loud groups, exuding an air of wannabe maturity and jaunty spirit mixed with a sweeping undercurrent of angst, enjoying the prerogative of youth. They brought Obi-Wan back to his adolescence, which seemed to get further and further away with each passing day. He pondered when he had gotten so old. A small family walked by him, the parents carrying an infant, and Obi-Wan saw the little one’s eyes wide open in bewilderment, surely experiencing the magic of the festival for the first time.   

     No building was left undecorated, and festive streamers flowed down from every beam. The city was a kaleidoscope, and every turn of Obi-Wan's head revealed a different beauty. There was much to do, and plenty to admire. 

     The night sky was a flurry of colors. A mild East wind brushed past, and lanterns hanging from rooftops and tree branches swayed along its gentle current. Candle light flickered with the breeze’s delicate touch, causing the vibrant hues of the ornate lanterns to radiate outwards into a warm, fuzzy glow. The clacking of horses’ hooves blended in with the cheers of passersby as lavish carriages rolled across cobblestone, trailing behind handsome steeds. The notes of the flute danced brilliantly through the air, twirling and twisting, gracefully singing a Naboo folk song. A glimmering pearl revolved in midnight blue. The full moon shone brilliantly above the city.

     The Naboo were known for their impeccable style, and tonight proved to Obi-Wan that it was no lie. Ladies dressed up to the nines walked the streets, draped in rich satin and decadent velvet. They adorned their hair in jade clips and ruby Millaflowers, its subtle fragrance following their laughter that echoed off tan walls.

     The night was dazzling, yet Obi-Wan found himself drawn to the little things that hid behind the elaborate. He spied a dusty alleyway filled with old trinkets and skulking Loth cats, out on a prowl for dinner; a woman on a third-storey balcony was clipping wet clothes onto a clothing line, muttering something under her breath while sporadically casting disapproving glances into her apartment. Obi-Wan thought he saw a story there. 

     Walking further down the road, it began to take on a gentle gradient, and the crowds became thinner. Few lights lined the ascending path, and it could well be considered unilluminated compared to Theed’s main street. However, the darkness was not a deterrent, in fact, it may have been favored, as couples sat on dainty benches along the lane, exchanging whispers and shy blushes in the comfort of privacy gifted by the night.

     Obi-Wan stood at the start of the trail, looking up to scan the small hill. Naboo’s climate was well suited to vegetation, and he imagined its grass covering to be a lush, verdant green under daylight. If he had time tomorrow, maybe he would come out here again and appreciate the knoll in its morning glory. It was an interesting sight to see in Theed, which was built mostly on flat terrain.  

     Obi-Wan’s glance reached the top of the hill. There, a single tree stood, the king of the mountain. Its leaves rustled in the wind, and its firm branches curled upwards into a crown.

     Out of a sudden, he stopped his perusal, his vision zeroing in on an inclined figure beneath the tree. Opening up his senses, he felt a familiar signature hovering in the force. It was faint, but he recognized it immediately. After all, it wasn’t one he could easily forget. 

     Under the faint light of a lone lantern, Obi-Wan saw a wisp of blonde hair. He blinked a few times and took a second look to check that his eyes were not deceiving him. They weren’t, it was the undeniable outline of the person he held dear.

     There, far away from the crowds and the action, standing on a dimly lit hilltop, was Siri Tachi.

     Council members were, reasonably, not privy to every ongoing operation in the Order. Obi-Wan had not expected to find Siri in Theed during the Festival of Lights. His face fell when he realized that the last time they spoke was through a brief comcall a week before he transformed himself into Rako Hardeen. Obi-Wan’s faked death had spread like wildfire, especially among the more objectionable circles that pestered the galaxy. His heart clenched at the thought of the news reaching Siri, who likely would have been in character on a mission. That wasn’t how he’d hoped the person he cared deeply about to find out about his demise, and it pained him that he had probably put her through more emotional turmoil in already precarious circumstances.

     Obi-Wan stayed planted to the spot, unsure of what to do next. He wondered if going to her and opening up with a simple ‘Hello there’ would be appropriate, though an apology would probably be better suited. People thought dead turning up alive again were generally not met with warm hugs or pure elation. Shock, confusion, then a rightfully deserved angry tirade would likely be his fate if he did approach her, Anakin had served him the same dish prior. 

     Siri’s presence was calming to Obi-Wan, its familiarity was grounding, and carrying the weight of his deception on his shoulders, Obi-Wan needed the solace. As much as he wanted to stay in her presence a little longer, even without her knowing, Obi-Wan knew that walking away would make a wiser choice. He wanted nothing more than to see his friend again, to show her that he was alright, but that would be selfish of him. This wasn’t the right time or place to deal with the elephant in the room that was his status of being. This setting wasn’t conducive to delivering a tasteful exposé, the kind of reveal that Siri deserved.

     He took in Siri’s form one more time, her frame illuminated by a soft, golden glow of a lantern. To him, her stance aired strength and focus, two qualities that always left Obi-Wan enamored.

     Just as he was ready to leave, the figure on top of the hill turned to his direction. He remained where he was, unable to move away, transfixed by a silhouette’s stare. 

     They couldn’t see each other’s faces, but they were sure their eyes met.

Out of the blue, in dim light and haze, Lost lovers stood, entranced in their gaze. They found each other, to have not to hold, In the faint shadows of the lantern glow.

«青玉案·元夕» 辛棄疾 東風夜放花千樹。更吹落、星如雨。寶馬雕車香滿路。鳳簫聲動，玉壺光轉，一夜魚龍舞。 蛾兒雪柳黃金縷。笑語盈盈暗香去。眾裏尋他千百度。驀然回首，那人卻在，燈火闌珊處。 “Green Jade Festival - Lantern Festival”  Xin Qiji At night, an East wind brushes past. Lanterns hang like flowers on trees, sparkling and vivid. Lantern light casts down on the streets like a shower of stars. Lavish carriages and handsome steeds roll across the roads. Splendid music spreads through the air, The moon revolves slowly in the sky. The dragon dance unfolds all through the night. In fine silk, with jade clips and ornaments, Ladies leave a trail of giggles and perfume. A thousand times, I searched for her in the crowds. When all of a sudden, I turned around, And saw her there in the dim lantern light.

[roseaesynstylae]

Siri Tachi and Satine fighting over Obi-Wan? Oh, no. Satine and Siri taking the piss out of Obi-Wan while he hides behind a pillar and Anakin laughs his ass off.

[laferelady]

Siri Tachi & Obi-Wan Kenobi (art by neuronet)

[palfriendpatine66]

🚨New Fic Alert🚨

I ventured into a lot of new territory for the More to Love event and wrote a Quinlan Vos/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Siri Tachi threesome. Check it out if that sounds like it might be your jam, or explore some of the other works in the More to Love collection (or even add your own!)

[halfagonyandhope]

when the skies catch fire │ch. 40

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

“Remind me again why it has to be this planet?”

Obi-Wan turns to Wrecker. Easily twice Obi-Wan’s weight and a head taller than him, Wrecker occupies a considerable portion of the VCX-100 light freighter’s cockpit. But despite his normal bravado, Wrecker seems uneasy.

Obi-Wan can’t blame him. Dathomir tends to have that effect on most people.

But before Obi-Wan can speak, Ahsoka answers the clone trooper’s question. “If we want to get Cody back, we need to face Dooku. If we have any chance of surviving that encounter with Dooku, we need to chat with his former apprentice.”

Hunter puts a hand on the backrest of Ahsoka’s seat. “You sure she’ll feel up for a chat?” he asks. “Look, the Batch didn’t become successful by recklessly disregarding our limits. And I’m pretty sure Dathomirian witches are one of them.”

“Ventress’ bark is worse than her bite,” says Obi-Wan as he helps Ahsoka navigate the Ghost through the atmosphere.

Wrecker chuckles nervously. “How bad is her bite?”

Obi-Wan grimaces and shares a look with Ahsoka. Then Ahsoka looks back out into the atmosphere, and Obi-Wan follows her gaze.

As they move through the clouds, a red haze surrounds them, a byproduct of Domir, the nearby sun. Obi-Wan leans back slightly, noticing how uncomfortable the rest of the occupants of the cockpit look. Even those who aren’t Force-sensitive can feel the Dark side on Dathomir, he knows.

He shakes off the nagging worry in the back of his mind. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he can’t feel the Dark side here. He’ll dissect that with Satine when he gets back to Phoenix Base.

Before he’d left, she’d reiterated her promise to begin searching for Bant and Siri. He’d hugged her, grateful beyond words, and she’d pressed his lightsaber into his hand.

“Take it,” Satine had urged him. “If only to keep my worry at bay.”

To his surprise, he’d been able to hold the saber steady as he’d examined it, a feat he hadn’t been able to manage since before his abduction.

So he’d clipped it to his belt, and then boarded the ship, knowing that Phoenix Base was in no better hands than with Satine leading the charge.

“Any idea of where to start, Obi-Wan?” asks Ahsoka as they dip below the clouds.

He shakes his head. “If she’s indeed here as intelligence has indicated, she’ll find us.”

Mountains begin to come into view, as do what appears to be the remnants of burnt trees.

“What happened here?” asks Echo from the back of the cockpit, surveying the damage.

Tech speaks up from his place beside Echo. “A massacre toward the end of the Clone Wars,” he supplies. “Led by General Grievous. Because Dathomir is relatively uninhabited, news of the massacre did not become common knowledge.”

Obi-Wan’s pulse increases at the mention of Grievous. For the past few months, Obi-Wan had been able to focus solely on his recovery, relatively unaware of the progress of the fighting outside Phoenix Base. And progressed it had - both Dooku and Grievous are still alive, and Obi-Wan knows the fledgling Rebel Alliance must face them eventually.

He returns his attention to the cockpit.

“It doesn’t help that Dathomir’s Indigenous inhabitants are viewed with disdain and fear by many in the galaxy,” says Obi-Wan. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to kill news of a slaughter, if the group targeted was already discriminated against.” He breathes in. “The Jedi didn’t know of it until I crossed paths with Ventress soon after and she told me,” he adds, unable to keep the regret from his voice.

Silence descends upon them as they sink closer to land, and strewn droid parts and humanoid skeletal remains are visible amidst the burnt tree trunks. Eventually, they come across what appears to be a recently dug cemetery, with several rows of disturbed dirt.

“There,” says Obi-Wan. “Land just beyond there.”

He sighs.

“Before we lost contact with Quinlan,” he says to Ahsoka, “he said Ventress had taken him to Dathomir for training. They’d reburied many of her sisters while here. If she really is back on Dathomir - and him with her - I’d imagine they’ll be close.”

As the freighter touches down and Obi-Wan begins the post-flight sequence, Ahsoka glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Why take Master Vos here to train?” she asks.

Obi-Wan swallows, thinking of Quinlan and how risky the mission had been, of the sense of foreboding he’d felt the last time Quinlan had briefed him on progress.

“Probably exactly the reason you’d think,” he finally says as the engines shut down.

Ahsoka’s eyes narrow. “If she brought him here to teach him about the Dark side…”

Obi-Wan stands. “I know,” he says. “And I’ve come to terms with what that likely means for him.” He scratches his beard. “A few days ago I thought Quin was dead. It’s not going to hurt much worse if I find out he’s alive yet…” he trails off.

“Not himself anymore,” supplies Ahsoka gently.

He nods tersely. “We’re going to assume the worst and hope for the best,” he says, turning around to glance at Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech. “That means monitoring for any approaching lifeforms but from the safety of the ship. If Quinlan indeed tapped into the Dark side of the Force while trying to complete his last mission, we may not be welcome here.”

Echo chuckles nervously. “I don’t think we’re welcome here regardless,” he says.

Obi-Wan can’t help but agree with him.

---

While most of the team eventually heads to their cabins to sleep that evening, Obi-Wan takes the first watch. He sits in the cockpit, monitoring the surrounding area for lifeforms. He wears the beskar’gam given to him by Satine, his lightsaber hanging at his hip, and his eyes follow the mist outside as it twists around the freighter.

The red haze hadn’t disappeared with the sun; rather, its four moons reflect the light from Domir at night, albeit more softly.

He wishes he could call Satine, but it’s also the middle of the night on her part of Dantooine, and he won’t risk waking her if both she and Léa are actually asleep.

The mist shifts suddenly. The dashboard of the cockpit beeps, and Obi-Wan sucks in a breath.

Standing in front of the ship, just before the burnt trees, mist parting around her, is Asajj Ventress. 

And what’s more - she’s staring directly at him.

Obi-Wan blinks.

He takes in her short blonde hair, undercut on one side, so different from the bald head he was expecting. And on her hip is one lightsaber hilt.

Quinlan’s saber.

His heart stops and then sinks.

Obi-Wan raises his wrist to speak into his comlink. “Ahsoka,” he says. “Get everyone up. I’m headed outside.”

And so a minute later, he’s walking down the boarding ramp, each step taking him closer to Ventress. He can’t feel the eyes on Ahsoka and the 99s on him, but he knows they’re ready to spring into action if need be. Though he’d asked them to wait in the ship so as to not spook Ventress, he has a feeling very little has actually ever scared the woman before him.

Ventress watches him with cautious and confused eyes. “Can it truly be you?” she says lowly, her voice as raspy as he remembers.

Obi-Wan tosses his saber to her as he approaches, knowing if Ventress wanted him dead, he’d already be so. Ventress examines the saber, one eyebrow rising, and then she flings it back to him.

“Why can’t I feel you in the Force?” she says as he moves to stand in front of her.

“There’s much we have to catch up on,” Obi-Wan says, and the fog of his breath joins the mist passing around them.

Ventress smirks. “Evidently,” she agrees.

“My connection to the Force has been severed,” admits Obi-Wan.

Ventress’ brow furrows. “I was unaware that that was possible,” she says. Then she takes in the beskar’gam he is wearing. “Explains the iron skin, I suppose,” she adds, crossing her arms against her chest.

Then she looks closer at the beskar’gam.

“I know those clan colors,” she says, and then one eyebrow climbs higher in realization. “Ah,” she says. “We do have much to discuss, it seems. There were rumors you left the Order before it fell. And now I know why.”

Then there’s a flash of pain across her face, and Obi-Wan thinks he understands the implication. 

“Where’s Quinlan?” he asks, nodding to the saber at her hip.

“Invite me inside first, Kenobi. Where are your manners?” She reaches out to brush past him and then looks back at him again, clearly noticing for the first time how much muscle mass he has lost. “What happened to you?” she whispers.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “You’re right,” he admits. “Let’s bring this conversation inside. I have a feeling I’ll want to be seated anyway.”

He steps back to allow her to pass him up the boarding ramp, and he shows her the way to the lounge. Ahsoka turns on the lights with the flick of her hand, and Ventress’ lip curls up.

“Ahsoka Tano,” she says in what must be the warmest tone Obi-Wan has ever heard her use. “So this is twice now we’ve found ourselves working together. Times sure have gotten stranger.”

“You could say that again,” says Ahsoka, moving to stand beside Obi-Wan, and he notices the slightly protective stance she’s taken as he eases himself into his seat, joints protesting.

Ventress seems to notice this, too, as she takes in the 99s, who have gathered in the lounge as well. She hands Quinlan’s lightsaber to Obi-Wan and then sits across the room from him. “So nobody thinks I’ve got the wrong idea,” she says. “You going to introduce me or what?” she adds, looking at Obi-Wan.

So Obi-Wan makes quick introductions, and he gives Ventress a high-level summary of the events of the past few months.

When he’s finished, Ventress leans forward, her elbows on her thighs. “So it’s true,” she says, and it’s half a whisper, half a snarl. “I’d heard rumors of Sidious’ new apprentice. I never would have guessed it would be Skywalker.”

“Welcome to the club,” murmurs Ahsoka.

Ventress sighs. “There seems to be something in the water with maverick Jedi,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest again. “Vos, too.”

Obi-Wan had known this the moment he’d seen Quinlan’s lightsaber on Ventress’ hip, but he swears he still feels the air rush out of his lungs. He turns the lightsaber over in his hands. “What happened?” he asks.

Ventress clenches one hand into a fist. “We were so close,” she hisses, “to finishing the mission. Vos was captured by Dooku before we could assassinate him.” She looks over at Obi-Wan. “Later, I took a team of bounty hunters to break him out, but when we tried, I realized Vos had turned.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s ever seen this particular expression on Ventress’ face. It takes him a while to place it before he realizes it’s regret.

“When I was Dooku’s apprentice, I was ordered to kill a Jedi by the name of Tholme,” Ventress says lowly.

“Vos’ master,” says Ahsoka.

Ventress nods. “I…unwisely hid this from Vos during our partnership. He learned of my lie from Dooku during his captivity.” She looks down. “I couldn’t bring him back - figuratively from the Dark side or literally from his cell. I had to leave him there.” She pauses. “This was before the fall of the Republic. I’ve spent the last few months here on Dathomir, biding my time, reburying as many of my sisters as I can. Obviously I have a lot of work to do still.” She extends her fingers as though trying to get rid of some imaginary thing that has touched her. “I eventually tried to contact the Jedi Council, but soon after that, word made it here that the Jedi had been eliminated.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow. “Word made it here? To Dathomir?”

“You banished a Zabrak named Maul from the Mandalore system,” says Ventress, looking at Ahsoka. “He is here. I’ve crossed paths with him once or twice.”

“All the more reason for us to leave quickly,” says Ahsoka under her breath.

Ventress chuckles. “He’s on the other side of the planet,” she says. “You’re safe from him. For now.” She takes a look at Obi-Wan’s face. “Though maybe I should be more concerned about his safety from you, Kenobi? Considering he tried to kill the Duchess of Mandalore? I may be a bit out of the loop, but that news was spread pretty widely across the galaxy.”

Obi-Wan forces himself to let go of the tension in his shoulders, to take a deep breath. “My fighting days are behind me,” he says honestly.

Ventress glances down at his now un-gloved hands, his beskar ring clearly on display. “Whipped,” she whispers, in an almost sing-song voice.

Obi-Wan hears Wrecker snicker, and then he hears the sound of what he suspects is Hunter elbowing the larger clone. He sighs, and Hunter rounds up the 99s, guiding them out of the lounge, clearly satisfied that Ventress isn’t an immediate threat.

As the doors to the cabins close, Obi-Wan says, “There were whips involved that led to my current condition, but certainly not the type you’re referring to.”

Ventress’ grin fades immediately. 

“Immediately after dealing with Anakin - what we thought was dealing with Anakin - Ahsoka and I went to Mandalore to smuggle Force-sensitive children off the planet,” says Obi-Wan. “Thanks to Maul, I didn’t make it out.”

Ventress’ spine straightens. “Maul did this to you.”

“It appears both Quinlan and I were captives for quite some time,” confirms Obi-Wan.

“How did you survive?”

Obi-Wan gestures to Ahsoka. “My grandpadawan. And Satine, my wife. They extracted me. That was a few months ago. The healing process has been…slow.”

It’s an understatement, but Ventress doesn’t need to know that.

Judging by her expression, she already does. She studies him, sizing him up. “So now you do more of the same? Smuggling Force-sensitive children away from harm?”

Obi-Wan nods. “A little of that, a little of this.”

“And you were looking for me because?”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “We received intelligence that my former lieutenant is being held by Dooku on Serenno. It’s obviously a trap to lure me there. I wanted to speak to you regarding what you know about Dooku before we attempt to break Cody out.” He clears his throat. “This was before we were aware that Quinlan is also being held there,” he admits. He looks at Ahsoka, who nods. Obi-Wan breathes out deeply. “I wonder if we could help do what your bounty hunter group could not - for Quinlan. If we got him out, could we help you bring him back?”

Ventress gives him a pitying look, but Obi-Wan has the feeling it’s directed more so at herself than at him. “You’re asking me how far gone I think he is.”

Obi-Wan nods again.

“I don’t know,” Ventress admits. “Not so far gone as I once was, and look how I ended up. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.”

The red haze of sunlight begins to sneak through the transparisteel of the ship, and Obi-Wan suddenly understands. “You loved him,” he murmurs, his voice gentle and unaccusing. “You love him still.”

Ventress holds his gaze, and Obi-Wan hands Quinlan’s saber back to her.

She takes the saber and hooks it back on her belt.

“Yes,” Ventress says simply.

[satinekryzeweek]

I'm not familiar with all of the different Satine Kryze ships out there, could you provide a few examples? I want to rotate them in my brain while I prepare for the event

Hi Tiptaptiptap,

Thank you for the question! While this event is not focused on romantic/sexual relationships, submissions featuring ships are more than welcome! We're hoping to keep Satine the center of the event, as she's often reduced to a stereotypical love interest meant to further the plot of beloved fandom men. Our goal is to showcase how multifaceted and complex her character can be 💙 That being said- here is a fun list of characters people like to ship her with!

Most Common Ships:

Satine Kryze x Asajj Ventress

Satine Kryze x Arla Fett

Satine Kryze x Breha Organa

Satine Kryze x Darth Maul

Satine Kryze x Mon Mothma

Satine Kryze x Padmé Amidala

Satine Kryze x Obi-Wan Kenobi

Satine Kryze x Siri Tachi

Satine Kryze x Ursa Wren

Threesomes / Foursomes:

Satine Kryze x Asajj Ventress x Latts Razzi

Satine Kryze x Breha Organa x Bail Organa

Satine Kryze x Darth Maul x Obi-Wan Kenobi

Satine Kryze x Obi-Wan Kenobi x Commander Cody

Satine Kryze x Padmé Amidala x Breha Organa x Mon Mothma

Satine Kryze x Padmé Amidala x Sab�� (+/- other handmaidens)

More details on the event will follow soon, so stick around for more Satine goodness (or check out our Rules and About) 🌸 We'll also be reblogging older fandom works using the tag #pre event showcase leading up to the week!

[knightofthenewrepublic]

Obi-wan: Siri reminds me of the sea.

Garen: Because she is beautiful and mysterious?

Obi-wan: No, because she scares people and she's full of salt!

[kittystargen3]

Story Summary: A time traveling Grandmaster, to the Prequel Era, trying to fix the mistakes the Jedi made, and get rid of a certain Sith too. Only Time Travel is not that easy, as Yoda will soon learn.

Today I published a new chapter to my fanfic, Time Travel: To the past Yoda Goes. Below is a small selection. Please click one of my links above to read more.

Chapter 67- A Hiccup

Anakin turned around to look, and stretched his Force-senses as far as he could.  Then he sighed in disappointment.    Yoda had gone off to get the artifact alone.  All because he alone, apparently, knew the passcodes to the doors and the secret boobytraps in the Vaults to get it out.  Or that was what he told them, anyways.  

Dooku had been reluctant to let him go alone, but was now leading the youngsters in Meditation.  Even a few of Jango’s ade were sitting around, pretending to follow along.  

Poison Spitter and Jango marched in circles around them, each keeping an eye out for anything unexpected.  Poison stopped in his circles and went to check on Siri.  She was sitting, trying to help Dooku’s lesson, but she was feeling uncomfortable for some reason.  

Jango stopped too, and came around to see what was going on.  

“Kaysh cuyir yaihadla bal te ik’aad aalar bic’be buir’be dar’jarkiv” Anakin could not understand any of what they were saying.  

“Shi kih haryc.” Siri answered them.  “Ni ven’udes sa vi slanar.”  It felt like she was trying to reassure them. 

Anakin turned away from their conversation and tried to reach out to Yoda again.  It would’ve been easier if he had a bond with the Grandmaster, but he didn’t.  He hadn’t even thought about forming one until just now.  

“Okay everyone, we are going to reach with our minds to the light.” Dooku instructed them.  “Anakin, are you reaching?”

No, Anakin’s mind supplied, but he didn’t say this outloud.  He silently rolled his eyes and started to do the meditation exercises Dooku was leading them through.  Maybe, they would help him expand his senses, like earlier meditations with Master Mace had done.  It was worth a try, anyway.  ...