Chapter Text
Obi-Wan fumbled with the controls of the survey shuttle. “Garen, this is the last time I let you talk me into an unspecified favour!” he growled.
The comm unit burst into static as Garen frantically kept his ship, the Firebird , intact and avoiding their attackers through sheer force of will. “I know, I know Obi. Stars, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!”
Through their bond, Obi-Wan felt Garen’s panic. “Ren, listen to me,” he said, using Garen’s rarely-used creche-name. “This isn’t your fault. There was no way for you to know.” It was meant to be a simple survey mission. An easy assignment for Garen to complete as a part of his Knight-Pilot training, where all he needed was a co-pilot. “Please, Obi-Wan? It’ll just be a few days, quick and easy,” Garen had promised. But since nothing in their lives could ever be easy, they had stumbled upon a Death Watch enclave. Their only saving grace was that the terrorists were deep into a party - likely celebrating the disappearance and presumed death of the Mandalorian prince, Jango Fett. Because it took the intoxicated Mandalorians a handful of minutes more to get their ships into pursuit, Garen had managed to calibrate the NavComp aboard the Firebird before the missiles hit, giving him one chance to escape.
There was one problem - Death Watch had cut Obi-Wan off. The one-person shuttle used to take measurements and chart systems had no weapons and barely any shielding to speak of. They were toying with him, keeping him from docking, but not shooting him outright.
It terrified him. Sweat beaded at the hem of his robes and chills raced down his spine with every bolt he dodged. There was no way he could force his way through them and there was no chance of them letting him go.
He couldn’t win this fight.
Obi-Wan paused with the realization and pressed his head to the controls.
“Obi-Wan?” Garen said into the sudden silence.
“You need to get out of here,” Obi-Wan replied.
“No way, I’m not leaving you behind!” Garen protested, beginning a frantic tirade. “I’ll find a way and- and you’ll dock with me, we’ll get out of here together!”
“No, Garen.” Obi-Wan cut him off. “As soon as you can, make the jump. Do it.” He softened his tone and said, “ I know you’ll come back for me. But you need to be alive for that to happen. Go.” He sent the Force through the final word, pressing all of the determination he could towards Garen. “I’ll survive, I’m the resident cockroach, remember?”
Garen sighed over the comms. “I’ll come back for you, Obi-Brother. I’ll come back with our Masters, Quin, everyone. I’ll find you.” The Firebird turned in space, aiming for the hyperplanes. “I promise.” With that, the ship disappeared from realspace and Garen escaped.
Obi-Wan turned the shuttle as quickly as he could, evading lasers from the Death Watch ships, now their only target. Stay alive, he thought to himself. If only it were so easy.
He twisted and turned the shuttle every which way in an attempt to evade Death Watch’s shots - and for the most part, he was successful. By sheer dumb luck (or Will of the Force, Master Gui-Gon would say) he stayed alive long enough to dance around the gravity well of a yet-uncharted planet. Ironically, it was the next system on their List Of Possible Republic Colonies As Determined By The Esteemed Jedi. (Every Jedi involved with The List thought it was absolute banthashite, but what were they going to do? Say “no” to the Senate?)
Lasers flashed across the viewport of the cockpit. Obi-Wan leant into the Unifying Force and pulled on every bit of prescience he had to dodge the incoming blaster bolts. He flew left and right, in zigzags, did barrel rolls, everything he could think of to buy himself time.
He pushed deeper into the Force - he needed to survive, not just avoid death. There was a tug from the planet through the Force. Not a person, not a place - he pushed further into the feeling to try and parse out what it was. In his mind, a possible future unfolded within a split second. He saw a huge mountain, standing alone in the sky and lit in a blood-red sunrise. A forest, twisted and sick with pinpricks of light hidden within. Rolling hills and running rivers and wooden villages and stone halls and gold . Gold, gold, gold beyond measure and belief. Scales. Hissing. I see you.
His vision ended as suddenly as it began, but his brief distraction cost him.
A lucky shot hit his engine. Thanks to a split-second advantage his Foresight gave him, Obi-Wan wrapped himself tightly in the recycled air of the cockpit, using it as a shield to the barrier of space.
The shuttle exploded around him.
He fell.
Down, down, down.
His body was limp in the highest-stakes version of “play dead” he had ever been in.
His mind held himself warm and breathing through sheer willpower.
Reentry burned.
He desperately called on the cold of space to keep him from burning up.
He was falling faster, faster, hotter, hotter.
He burned.
His mind screamed in agony. It was too much, but he couldn’t let go.
To let go was to die.
He cracked his eyes open. A flash of blue crossed his vision. Water . Just a little more, I just need a little more , he begged the Force and angled his fall ever-so-slightly to land in the river.
The water came closer, closer.
With the last of his reserves, he slowed his fall.
Closer, closer.
FWOOM!
Freezing cold.
Bubbles all around him.
Ringing in his ears.
Hands, reaching for him.
Nothing.
His eyes fluttered open.
A wooden roof. Birdsong from the window. Dappled sunlight.
A spoon at his mouth. Water down his throat. Cool salve and damp cloth on his skin.
Darkness.
Birdsong again. Fibre sheets. A bone-deep ache. His throat was parched . Obi-Wan groaned his way to full consciousness, dragged into the world of the living by the growling of his stomach. Gingerly, he pushed himself up to sit on the soft bed, wincing at his sore muscles. Fading sunlight streamed in from paned windows - was that actual glass? - lighting the room with rays of molten gold. Arches of red-brown wood framed the room, between which alabaster walls were decorated with bookshelves - with actual books! - paintings, candles, and dried flowers. Where am I? he asked the Force incredulously. He held out a hand and pulled one of the leather-bound books to him. It hit his palm with a soft thwack and he delicately leafed through it. His eyebrows hit his hairline. It was real paper. Not flimsy, but actual, plant-based paper.
“If Madame Nu were here, she may just never return to the Temple,” he said aloud. His voice was scratchy to his ears and he had to clear his throat a few times. He needed water - and soon.
Just on time, the round door opposite his bed opened with a small creak. A small humanoid bustled in carrying a tray with cups of water and bowls full of steaming porridge. They had a thick cap of curly hair that framed their face in tawny waves, bright green eyes, and a wide smile on their face. From what Obi-Wan could see, he’d have assumed they were a baseline (or near-baseline) human if it weren’t for the fact that this being couldn’t have been more than four feet tall.
“Oh, goodness! You’re awake!” they exclaimed upon seeing him sitting up. “That’s good, that’s very good indeed! You’ve given us all quite a fright - falling from the sky into the Water as you did - and we’ve all been hoping you’d wake soon.” They set the tray down next to his bed and sat down in a cushioned wood chair by his bedside. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, where are my manners? My name is Bilbo Baggins and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance!”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he croaked, “and the pleasure is all mine.” Bilbo passed him one of the cups to drink from. He gripped it with both hands to keep it steady and brought it to his face, drinking greedily. It tasted sweet and was refreshingly cold. All too soon, the cup ran dry. As Bilbo passed him the second one, he asked, “I must ask, where am I? None of this is familiar to me.”
“Why, you’re in the Shire, of course!” he said with another smile. At Obi-Wan’s visible confusion, he continued; “In Hobbiton, to be precise.”
“I’m… afraid I don’t know where that is.” His eyebrows pinched together. “What planet is this?”
Bilbo blinked at him, green eyes wide in confusion. “What’s a planet?”
Obi-Wan only had time to think and say, “Force help me,” before he fell back into unconsciousness.