Rise of Kenobi || obikin

Rise of Kenobi

It was absolute chaos.

Death was all around- the scent of it, the mangled sound of it, and the heartbreaking sight of it.

The Captain- Rex- stood, his gun in his hand, looking out at the sight of his brothers' ends, their final shouts ringing in his ears. A  piece of his soul left his body each time he saw the light leave their eyes- his eyes.

The Padawan- Ahsoka- crouched nearby, deflecting as many of the blasts as she could. Still, men fell around her and the feeling of it nearly brought her to her knees. Still, she remined beside them, resolute and gifted with the force.

The Knight- the Chosen One, Skywalker- stood just ahead of them, his arctic blue weapon whirling through the air so fast it had become a sort of orb around him instead of a line. His power was draining, he'd been fighting for countless hours, but the enemy line simply kept advancing, no matter how many droids he struck down. His hope was draining and his muscles were screaming, but there he stood.

Around him, he could see that the toll of this fight was noticeably reason enough to surrender, but he remembered the words of the High Council.

"You must not- under any circumstances- surrender this battle. The freedom of the Republic depends on your victory. We trust you will suceed."

Skywalker's lungs had long since gone numb to their burning, and the scrapes earned at the beginning of the battle had already scabbed over. He called upon the force with every once of desperation he could muster. He called upon the children of mortis to help him, to save the Republic, to save the balance.

Please...

Then, at last, the Master- Obi-Wan Kenobi, a name whispered excidedly in every creche- arrived in the line of fire, his jedi robes flowing behind him, the red blood staining them making a sort of flag- republic red.

"The General! He's arrived, He's here..." Cried the clones around him as he let his cloak fall to the ground, advancing without hesitation to the very front of the line.

It was then- when he reached the thick of the battle- that Skywalker saw him arrive, and nearly cried aloud for his relief. Obi-Wan was here, they would surely win now.

Bsshum... was the sound of Kenobi's lightsaber, the beautiful, elegant weapon of death whizzing to life in his hand. With one glance at his former apprentice and a slight nod, he leaped into the fray. Blaster bolts flew in every direction as he spun through the air, his grace matching the cadence of a dancer, his footfalls so soft that they barely left an indentation in the blood-stained soil beneath him.

Everything about Kenobi was subtle, all except his victory count. His eyes shone with the grief one could only learn in 100 lifetimes as he made his way around the battlefield, cutting down droids as if they were stalks of wheat, dismembering tanks with the ease of a youngling practicing velocities.

Skywalker looked back at his men, waving at them, telling them to follow as he trailed his Master.

He leaped through the air, landing on a SuperTank, his lightsaber slicing through its metal exterior like butter. Together as one, Skywalker and Kenobi cut through the Separatist line with a speed and fervor that would make even Count Dooku himself quiver a bit.

The thing was- after 12 years of fighting together- they'd melded into something new. They were no longer two Jedi. They were no longer even two halves of a whole. A "whole" was not the right word for what they were- it didn't quite capture the synchronicity of their blows, the way their minds worked on the same frequency and their thoughts mirrored each other's. They were like their own Universe- swift, expanding, overtaking everything it crosses; infinite.