Duet of Suns

1 - Tuskens and Gungans

A/N: At the time of writing, only two parts of the new Kenobi series are out (which *cough cough* I haven't seen yet). This is set directly after ROTS though so hopefully it doesn't diverge from the canon too much.

This is a bit of fun for me and I love Obi-Wan's character so much lmao, I hope you enjoy it too :)

Word Count: 1.9k

"Tatooine, my arse."

Your steps were futile, each one sinking into the ground. This sand was going to be the death of you. Why did Master Yoda send you here in the first place?

Punishment perhaps, it very well seemed like it. For you to end up in a Sarlacc pit - that was a possibility. His own sadistic motives even.

Taking a step, you felt another rush of sand spill into your boot.

You settled on the sadism.

It was hard to tell where the suns were in the sky but right now it seemed like the two of them were both intent on staring into the back of your neck. Pulling the thin fabric from your cloak round your head tighter, you chewed your bottom lip in contemplation, still tasting copper from your earlier altercation with the charming locals of Anchorhead.

The bruise one had given you on your left side was beginning to sting with each breath you hauled in.

"Curse the Maker." You muttered under your breath.

You, a Jedi Knight of all people, were trudging through this wasteland of a planet with no plan on where you were heading. It was just one slow step after the other until you finally reached the firmer ground of some sort of canyon.

The reddish sandstone curved up on each side, forcing you to head through the middle of the pass. Not that you minded, as it provided a degree of protection from the slowly-setting suns.

Soon enough, as you made your way through the valley, a sense of anxiety settled in your stomach. The heat from the suns was still present (no surprise there), but as their light dissipated into a deep orange hue, something was definitely off. That was the thing with the Force. You could never be calm – ever.

Without thinking, your right hand lowered to hover over where the weight of your lightsaber hung at your hip. It would be stupid to ignite it, not exactly subtle, you thought to yourself. And given the current 'political environment' you weren't going to risk it.

Still, there was something comforting about your lightsaber. A tangible presence reminding you that the Jedi prevailed, even if it was easy to forget at the moment.

But this tangent had drawn your focus elsewhere and that was fatal - that was enough for the group of lurking sand people to attack.

They swooped down from the rocky crevices of the canyon. Two came at you from the front, swinging their staffs towards your head.

In one fluid motion you held your lightsaber in hand and ignited the green blade. You brought it up to meet the poles, splicing one.

Before they could react, you manoeuvred your weapon to disarm the other. Sensing another behind you, you turned and raised your left hand to repel them.

You searched out for the recognisable sensation of the Force; the comfortable grip you knew so well. Yet as you reached out for the connection, it felt as if your hand had passed through air alone.

Your fingers grasped at nothing. Your mind came up blank.

A feeling of sickness pooled in your gut.

The Tusken came at you, the butt of their rifle aimed to ram into you. You attempted to swing your lightsaber round but weren't quick enough.