The Countess ━ OBI-WAN KENOBI

Chapter Nine

Leilani couldn't resist stealing a few glances over her shoulder, though she remained silent; her curiosity was unintentional, more of a subconscious reaction to seeing Obi-Wan again after so long. Time had left its mark on him since their last encounter, and she couldn't decide if it had treated him kindly. His hair, once the familiar Padawan buzz, had grown longer, now styled into luscious strands of strawberry blonde slicked to the side. It suited him, adding a mature air to the 36-year-old man before her. However, what truly caught her off guard as he landed was the carefully groomed beard gracing his face. She blinked a few times to adjust to the sight, recalling how vehemently he had rejected the idea of growing a beard, citing how it aged Qui-Gon. Yet here he stood, eleven years later — perhaps, a way to reminisce his past, to contradict the man he once was; to remember Qui-Gon all so subtly, she wasn't sure. Nor did she dare to ask. His expression remained the same, seemingly calm and collected; while wearing the classical Jedi robes, in brown and its variations with the armour over his shoulder and upper body that Leilani fiercely refused to put on.

"That word...vetranth...what does it mean?" Obi Wan asked her, as they neared the moon. It was rare for him to encounter a language he couldn't decipher, and his lack of familiarity with it felt somewhat embarrassing.

Leilani kept her gaze fixed ahead, her voice carrying a reflective tone. "In literal translation, it means 'old helper,' but it's more of a designation for someone loyal, an invaluable ally," she explained. "In our context, we often used 'vetranth' to refer to military officials, including the General and the Lieutenant."

"So, the person who might have sent this message—"

"Could most likely be General Chrodber or Lieutenant Rennik; although, I'd say the former, considering Rennik's disdain for me and the fact that the only other person who used that comm frequency besides us was the General." Her words weren't just an attempt to convince him; they were also a silent hope that the man in question was indeed still alive. Ever since establishing the Confederacy, Dooku had marginalised humans, favouring droids in both military and civilian roles, stripping them of their opportunities, livelihoods, and even their lives. Over the years, Leilani had maintained sporadic contact with whomever she could, but all communications had ceased years ago, coinciding with the onset of the war.

"If you are correct, we will receive a warm welcome."

"And if not, they might try to kill us," pointed out Leilani cheerfully.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, his sarcasm slipping through his diplomatic demeanour. "Ah, yes, even better—blaster fire and all," he quipped, his tone laced with irony. Leilani chuckled softly, acknowledging the grim reality of their situation with a wry smile.

Leilani nonchalantly shrugged, then, her fingers dancing over the controls as she brought them out of hyperspace.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, his gaze piercing through the viewport, swiftly assessing their surroundings. However, there were no ships in sight, no signs of a blockade; only the barren expanse of Mantero stretched out before them.

"It's all too silent," he mused.

"I sense a trap..." said she. She felt it, as the Force whispered into her ears, as the energy floated, breezing through her bones. "What do we do?"

"Spring the trap."

Leilani smirked while placing down the ship into the nearest landing pad; as the man seemed to have grown just as reckless as she was.

She activated the ship's claws to secure it and glanced through the viewport. She had visited this place only once before, as a child, when they had laid her mother's ashes to rest. Vague memories surfaced of gripping Dooku's hand tightly during the ceremony, her gaze filled with disdain as she looked upon their father. She despised him—the man who had wed a woman barely of age, who had mistreated their family in every foreseeable way. He was sixty-six when he forced himself upon Countess Valeria, her mother, and conceived her — and seventy when his own son murdered him.