When Paths Diverge

Second Battle of Geonosis [Year 25064 in Galactic Standard]

Blood and bile crawled up the back of his throat as a wordless yell passed his cracked lips. Dust, crimson and terrible, billowed around him, kicked up and scattered by the frantic motions of war. Vivid colours, white and orange and red and falling filled his vision and his heart pounded violently against the cage of his chest.

Despite being well-versed in matters of war, the thick of the fighting was something he could never get used to. It wasn't for lack on trying on his part, either. It was so frighteningly easy to lose one's self amidst the sheer chaos of the battlefield, and a part of his feared that if he simply let go, he would never be able to claw his way back.

The smell of blood was cloying and potent, especially once it mixed by the ash and sand kicked up by the frantic rhythm of fighting. Throughout the battlefield was the constant pulse of death. With every second that past, Obi-Wan could do nothing but helplessly feel more and more of his troops pass into the Force.

Bodies fell around him, and in turn, a horrifying red mist gradually surfaced and solidified, each splatter adding onto the tapestry of raw destruction with thick and broth-strokes on a macabre canvas. That thought rattled him, and he sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to steel himself, trying, trying -

No.

A cry of pain came from directly in front of him, and Obi-Wan lunged forward just in time to catch the clone as he crumpled. Blood-soaked hands gripped the broken, cracked armour and Obi-Wan pulled with all his strength, despite the screaming of his muscles straining against the acute pain in his side. The howl of lives passing into the Force cost him much of his focus as it swirled around him in a chaotic, gaping void.

Panic overtook him at that moment, before it was eclipsed by sheer desperation. The world fell away around him, until all he could see was the dark red of blood as it bubbled and frothed out of the torn flesh.

He ignored the way that his knees scraped the sharp edge of the rock as he cradled the body in his arms. "MEDIC!" He tried to yell, but all that came out was a soft, choking noise. Tearing a strip of cloth from the hem of his cloak, he pressed the tarnished brown material against the raw wound that cut deep across the clone's gut. There was a horrible, squelching sound as fabric clung to flesh and for a split-second, Obi-Wan nearly threw up.

The clone's body shook helplessly in his arms. Fearful amber eyes latched onto his own, and something inside Obi-Wan cracked at that. Steely determination took over, and he grit his teeth against the rust.

"Come on, come on." Gritting his teeth, the Jedi gathered the Force as best as he could and despite the shaky, tenuous grip, tried to shove the energy into the broken body in his arms in a despite attempt to heal it. His hands glowed with the warmth of a flickering flame, and he pressed down into the gaping wound.

But just as he reached out for the clone's Force signature, the prone figure in his arms convulsed once, twice, before going completely still.

The energy that he had siphoned from his own life force poured out through the broken defences of his tenuous grasp entirely, before the light spluttered, and then dimmed out entirely.

The backlash of that nearly knocked him over.

As it were, the Force slipped out of his grasp, surging in a massive wave of energy that made Obi-Wan feel light-headed and dizzy. Blood drained from his face as his heart-beat picked up pace. The energy was channeled out of his body all at once and he slumped backwards, overcome by sheer fatigue and exhaustion even as one arm still clung stubbornly to the poor clone's rapidly cooling body.