OBIKIN STORY: "Oblivion Gin"

Chapter 1

Nighttime on this planet is cloudy and moonless, yet its surface shines brighter than Coruscant during a Republic Day fireworks show. It's louder, too. Like Anakin is fighting in a minefield, circuitry and armored plates burst all around him, spraying him with sand and sparks. Fortunately, there are no actual bombs going off; his lightsaber is causing most of the mayhem.

Anakin is powered by a concoction of the Force, adrenaline, and the absolute need to keep Obi-Wan safe. Because yeah, Anakin is completely in love with him. And no, Obi-Wan has no clue how he feels.

Since he's also here, Master Kit Fisto's safety is important too. Anakin would never admit it aloud, but he and Obi-Wan would be in deep poodoo without the Nautolan's lightsaber in this fight.

Oleh Minor is a desert wasteland in the Outer Rim. Drier than a bantha's asshole, and smells like one too. A place like this wouldn't normally be worth a cursory glance on the map, much less an actual visit, but they've ventured here to investigate a rumor about the Separatist's new "secret weapon."

As it turns out, it's not one weapon—it's hundreds upon hundreds of freshly manufactured LM-432 crab droids.

Anakin has fought crab droids of all shapes and sizes over the years—from tanks as tall as four Wookiees to those as small as Grand Master Yoda—but this variation is indeed new. The tough little bastards barely reach Anakin's knee, each unit is coated in coppery armorplast shielding and equipped with four stabbing legs and pincers that could crush his skull. They also have mini cannons welded to their fronts. The crabs can fire off blaster bolts, but they've been programmed to stun the Jedi, not to kill them. Just one of these things would be a nuisance.

So, naturally, they're being mobbed like raw meat tossed into a gundark nest.

The stun charges pelt the Jedi like a sideways hailstorm, and has them on full defense, forcing them to dodge and deflect more than they can actually attack. They are attempting to retreat to their shuttle, but it's still a long way off, and for every three steps they advance toward it, they end up taking two backward to keep the droids at bay.

It's no Christophsis, but the countless swarm of fast, sturdy little droids versus three lone Jedi make this situation potentially worse.

Flashes of jade light up Anakin's peripheral vision. Master Fisto is kicking crab ass somewhere nearby.

Fighting, to Fisto, is like flying to Anakin. The Nautolan's exhilaration cracks the Force like an electrowhip, and he might as well be whipping Anakin as the sensation pushes him to fight harder and faster just to keep up. Which he does. Most Nautolans would struggle to breathe in this climate, but Fisto is so strong with the Force—and so incredibly physically strong—that he's thriving like he was hatched here.

Sensing Fisto is enough. Anakin doesn't need to keep eyes on him, but Obi-Wan he does.

His Master is about five meters to his left, lightsaber a dizzying swirl of sapphire in the darkness. He's dropping droids faster than they can fire off shots until—

Obi-Wan's alarm nearly drops Anakin!

Alarm burns through their Force bond, hot and blinding as a solar flare.

A hoard swarms Obi-Wan like ants on a carcass. He goes down. They've knocked the wind out of him, but not the fight. Even on his knees, Obi-Wan is like a professional crab butcher, slicing and dicing the droids into snack-sized bits of metal. The Force assures Anakin that—while his Master has been scratched up—he's okay. Once droid-free, Obi-Wan leaps to his feet with the grace of a Loth-cat and begins annihilating the next menacing wave.