#generalkenobii

“why are you — telling me this now —”  -- @generalkenobii

The answer as to why she was telling him this now should be obvious. Blaster fire came down around them like a storm. It scorched the wall beside her. Laying down a heavy cover so they couldn’t escape, they could only fight. They might make it out. They might be fine. She might get to hold her children in her arms again, and she was going to fight like hell to make sure that happens. But she might not make it home.

He might not make it home.

At any moment one or both of them could die, and then what? How many more regrets did they need to add to the list?

The words had bubbled up and spilled out of her throat before she could stop them. I love you. There was no time to think about them. No time to think about the million reasons she shouldn’t, the steady list of reasons they couldn’t. There was no time to discuss it. No time to even think about it. Not when they had to fight their way to safety.

“Because if we die, I’m already going to have plenty of regrets. I didn’t want that to be one of them,” she said. Now that the words were out she felt … better, lighter. As if she couldn’t remember all those reasons she shouldn’t tell him. As if all the effort of keeping it in had weighed on her harder than the planet’s gravity.

what were you thinking? -- @generalkenobii

“Someone has to face him some time!” Leia said, “It’s going to come down to it, sooner or later. Luke or I, will have to fight him right? Him and the Emperor. They both have to die to free the galaxy,” she said. Maybe not. Her mother seemed to hold out hope that Vader could be saved. Leia on the other hand didn’t care. She wasn’t going to waste her time trying to rescue a father that had never loved her.

If he didn’t want to die, he could always decide that he was ready to give it all up. She wouldn’t stop him. She wouldn’t welcome him back with open arms, but she wouldn’t stop him either. 

             assist the republic. be paid handsomely for it. it’ll be easy. 

easy her ass. in fairness , kenobi hadn’t stated that it would be easy , but training soldiers isn’t hard. not when they are all accomplished soldiers. not when they’re trained to listen and do and die as told. that       that’s uncomfortable in a way. her people , in a heartbeat , would sacrifice themselves for a cause they believed in , but they weren’t bred to die. weren’t bred to be nothing more than a tool wielded by a republic of citizens who refuse to do the same for them. 

citizens who look at her in disgust or in fear when she passed in the streets , undoubtedly remembering tales of mandalore of old , and receive the same look       whether or not she’s wearing her helmet. at least when the republic decided they had had their use of her , she wouldn’t be caught unable to defend herself. she would die fighting or she would win. simple. 

the clones have it easier ; the tides of war are on their side. sentiment favors the republic. for now. all for now. in a few months , maybe even just a few weeks , when the outposts remain and life doesn’t return to normal , when the planets realize the republic is taking a hands on approach and wouldn’t ( she knew soldiers and war better than she knew politics , but she knew enough to know the galaxy was permanently changing with this war ) relinquish it in the near future . . . things would change. resentment would be sown. the clones would be the ones bearing the brunt of that. that would be prove difficult

but in the here and the now , what was difficult was the vaping warzones. 

an explosion rocks the ground and shreds of earth rain down around her. her weight shifts , stabilizing herself as she continues firing into the approaching droids. the chatter over the comms ticks towards frantic ; they’re caught between a rock and a hard place. literally. boxed in. swearing under her breath , she blinks sweat from her eyes and immediately scrambles forward and towards the droids as a spider blasts the canyon wall. the screams of several clones burst over the comms then silence. the sinking feeling in her gut tells her they’re doomed. the only way out is through       not viable       or up.

slamming the butt end of her shotgun into a droid , a forceful sidekick careens it into its brethren       blaster firing wildly and taking out several droids as she launches herself into the air. narrowly dodging a blast from the spider , she fires into the mass of droids overrunning her previous position. they’re not going anywhere upwards with that kriffing spider droid lingering around. her gaze slips to the battlefield as she flies towards it , seeking out kenobi before she drops in behind him       shooting down a b2 wordlessly.     “  in my professional opinion , we should evacuate. upwards. i’ll give you a lift. be ready.  ”     with that she’s taken off again , unhooking a droid popper from her belt as she weaves expertly through the blaster fire , firing a rockets to clear herself a path towards the spider. no room for debate. he can call himself a general and he can be one of the most skilled in his lifetime ; war is her blood and her life. 

the next few moments pass quickly , in heartbeats. the popper leaves her hand       connects with the massive droid’s body just as it crackles to life. the droid stills , systems knocked out. flames erupt from her wrist , cooking the homing laser ; she circles , relying on her armor to protect her from blaster fire as she cooks it. and then it explodes. she’s not certain how. only knows that the force of it flings her . slams her into the nearest canyon wall and she tumbles to the ground. groans on impact , hands pushing up herself upright til she can get legs beneath her. jittery , jelly legs that don’t want to cooperate. stumbling , about to fall       she catches herself , drags herself upright on kenobi. the readings within her visor flash at her ; she ignores them.     “  going up!  ”     kennedy pants. sinks armored claws into his robes and launches them into the air before the jetpack can fail her.

they clear the ridge by several hundred meters before she lands , releases kenobi and steps away. steps away and promptly drops to the hard ground , legs giving out beneath her. ripping her helmet off , she grits her teeth and pushes upright against the earth. pushes upright and gets no further than forearms straightened. her legs don’t , won’t fold in , push her the rest of the way. doesn’t stop her from trying again , throat working and mind whirling        trying to decipher what’s happening when she remembers the readings on her visor. her throat works.     

          they are alone, the two of them, and there’s a nagging feeling in cody’s head; it tells him to stop, to reconsider, to lay down and surrender and beg forgiveness. his hand trembles - is it the tired ache in his muscles after fighting for days at a time, or is it the thought of what he’s about to do that makes him want to turn tail and run? he grips the lightsaber -kenobi’s lightsaber- even tighter: the rubber grip feels foreign like the crystal is rejecting his hold, but the weight in his hand is all too familiar.

          he can’t stop it. he knew as soon as the order was given how this would end. his gut churns, but he stays strong; he’s a soldier, and he’s a damn good one at that. he’s been trained, designed, to take on more stress than this. this is one kill among thousands that he’s going to make.

          the blue-glow blade doesn’t tremble as he brings it up in front of himself, points the business end at his jedi -the traitor- and speaks in a voice not his own. you are a traitor to the republic, and you will die here with your sins. it’s robotic, almost, the way his body says it; but the chip was never supposed to make it believable that this was kenobi’s cody. the chip’s only purpose is to destroy and, as of right now, so too is it cody’s.

          the landing platform is eerily quiet, save for the hum of the saber in cody’s hand - the man is still, poised to attack like it is his duty. his blood sings in anticipation with the heat of the fight, but his eyes are haunted - they aren’t the eyes of a man who looks forward to the gore and bloodshed ahead of him, they are those of a man who is not himself.

             it certainly is a grand structure ; a beacon to the jedi who call it home , a reassurance to the citizens of coruscant , and a potential quagmire for she and obi wan. two sith roving amidst the majority of the jedi order. fighting their way out wouldn’t be an option for them ; they were vastly outnumbered , even without a propensity to save lives. she’d cut a hundred jedi down if it meant achieving her goals. 

she was not as certain about obi wan. 

he , like dooku , was a fortress ; rigorous in protecting his mind from all who might try to find important information within it. she couldn’t get a read on him. sith were duplicitous by nature ; dooku claimed to her that she was to replace obi wan , obi wan claimed to her that they would replace dooku. one day , one of them would replace sidious. she knew better than to trust any of them , to trust any man , wholeheartedly. if this were an elaborate trap by the jedi       not all of them were so painfully simple-minded and easily disarmed       if obi wan had been playing them all along . . . she might die , but he would not survive either. 

‘ by yourself, alone? ’ -- @generalkenobii​

the tone of obi-wan’s voice said i don’t believe you are here alone padmé. she didn’t need threepio to translate it for her. there were times she fully believed obi-wan knew about the whole thing, knew about their marriage and was just waiting for one of them to confess to it. well, it wasn’t going to be her. 

faux outrage or willful ignorance, she only had a split second to decide which she was going to play act for this holodrama.