"How touching. It really is," the traitorous Senator scoffed with obvious disdain. "But it makes me sick, and we really do need to be going."
Satine looked at Merrick with pure contempt blazing in her eyes. "You have the romantic soul of a Hutt slug, Merrick."
With that sharp retort, she quickly raised her foot and drove her heel down hard onto his instep. The force and precision behind the strike hit the Senator's toes with bone-crushing impact, likely breaking several in the process.
"Argh! You little—"
The distraction worked perfectly, giving Satine the opening she needed to break free from her captor's grip. In one fluid motion, she snatched the blaster from Merrick's hands and backed away several feet, her weapon trained on him while Obi-Wan's lightsaber hummed menacingly nearby.
"Slugs are meant to be stepped on," she said with icy satisfaction.
Merrick looked between the Duchess and the Jedi Master, forcing himself to scoff despite the obvious pain radiating from his injured foot. "Interesting turn of events, but even if I don't deliver the Duchess alive to the Separatists, I still achieve victory. The moment I'm extracted from this ship, I'll trigger the detonator and blow the Coronet to atoms."
"I won't allow that to happen," the Mandalorian leader declared firmly.
Merrick noticed the Duchess's hands trembling slightly as she tried to keep the blaster steady. She clearly knew how to handle the weapon, but actually using it would go against everything she believed in—everything she had built her life around.
"So what will it be?" Merrick taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "If you shoot me, you'll prove yourself a hypocrite to every pacifist ideal you hold dear." He turned his attention to the Jedi Master. "And you, Kenobi—you're certainly no stranger to violence. You'd be hailed as a hero by everyone aboard this ship... well, almost everyone."
Obi-Wan's gaze flickered briefly to Satine, and he knew with painful clarity that Merrick's words rang true. If he struck down the Senator right here, right now, in front of Satine, he would lose any chance of the feelings she had just confessed.
"Come on then," Merrick pressed, savoring the moral dilemma he had created. "Who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?"
Before either could respond, Merrick suddenly gasped in shock and pain as a blue lightsaber blade pierced clean through his chest from behind. He released his grip on the detonator remote as it tumbled toward the floor. The device was caught mid-fall by a Force-guided hand before it could hit the deck and doom them all.
Seeing the dead Senator collapse to the ground, Satine's composure finally cracked. She stared down at the blaster in her trembling hands before quickly throwing it aside, as if the weapon had burned her.
Kenobi looked at the newcomer and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Anakin..."
"What?" Skywalker said with casual indifference, deactivating his lightsaber with a sharp hiss. "He was going to blow up the ship and kill everyone aboard. Problem solved."
As Obi-Wan deactivated his own weapon, he turned to meet Satine's eyes across the corridor. Silence enveloped them like a heavy blanket, and for a moment they seemed completely lost in each other's gaze. Sensing the intimate nature of the moment, Anakin quietly stepped back to give the two some much-needed privacy.
"Obi-Wan... I..." Satine began, her voice barely above a whisper.
Whatever she had wanted to say next was lost as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor. She knew without even looking that reinforcements had arrived to check on her safety and assess the situation.
"General Skywalker," Commander Cody reported as he rounded the corner with a squad of clone troopers. "The last of the battle droids has been eliminated, sir."
Anakin barely suppressed an annoyed growl as the clone commander's timing nearly destroyed the tender moment between his Master and the Duchess of Mandalore. "Excellent work, Cody. Secure the area and begin cleanup operations."
Obi-Wan and Satine shared one final look before the Duchess straightened her shoulders and assumed her formal diplomatic posture. "I must return to my duties," she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "There are... matters of state that require my attention."
"Of course, Your Grace," Obi-Wan replied with equal formality, though his voice carried a note of regret. "Perhaps we can speak again when circumstances permit."
Satine's heart clenched at the careful distance in his words, but she simply nodded and walked away with her guards flanking her on either side. They both had responsibilities that demanded their attention now. That was simply the reality of their situation.
Duty before love. It was clearly the defining tragedy of this star-crossed pair.
After an extensive cleanup operation, the chaos aboard the Coronet was finally brought under control, and the luxury liner eventually made its way back to Coruscant. The journey hadn't proceeded quite as smoothly as originally planned—with considerable death and destruction occurring during the voyage—but ultimately, everyone who mattered had survived... for the most part.
The Coronet glided into its designated landing platform and extended its boarding ramp, allowing the many passengers to disembark and head toward their intended destinations. They were greeted by Chancellor Palpatine himself, flanked by an armed escort maintaining a respectful distance several meters behind him.
"Well done, Master Jedi," Palpatine said with his characteristic grandfatherly smile.
Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to the galactic leader. "Thank you, Chancellor. Though I wish the mission could have proceeded with less... excitement."
"Chancellor," Anakin acknowledged with a brief nod as the other passengers began filing past them.
It wasn't long before Satine approached Obi-Wan, surrounded by her loyal Mandalorian guards who maintained a watchful perimeter around their Duchess.
"How ironic," she said with a slight, melancholy smile, "that we should meet again, only to find ourselves on opposite sides of such fundamental issues."
Obi-Wan could hear the barely concealed pain in her voice, though she was doing her best to hide it beneath the exhaustion from their recent ordeal. All he could do was offer her a small, understanding smile in return.
"The needs of our respective people must come first," he said gently. "They deserve leaders who will put their welfare above all personal considerations."
The Duchess's smile grew slightly warmer at his sincere words, though sadness still lingered in her eyes. "Wise words indeed, from a thoughtful and principled Jedi." She studied his face intently, her expression growing more contemplative. "Although..."
"Yes?"
"I'm still not entirely certain about something."
This completely puzzled Kenobi. "About what? What's troubling you?"
She reached out tentatively and brushed her fingers along his neatly trimmed beard, making him resist the urge to lean into her touch. "It hides your handsome face," she said with a teasing smile.
With that playful comment, Satine turned and walked away toward the transport that would carry her and the other dignitaries to the Senate building, leaving behind only the faint scent of her perfume and the memory of her touch.
"What just happened?" Anakin asked, clearly confused by the exchange he had just witnessed.
"I think Obi-Wan is still trying to deny that spark of attraction," Natasha observed with amusement, gently nudging the Jedi Master, who looked briefly flustered by the attention.
"If only I had a holo-recorder right now," Anakin said with a mischievous grin, causing Obi-Wan to shoot him a warning look.
Anakin chuckled softly and placed a comforting hand on his former Master's shoulder, his expression growing more serious and supportive.
"She's a truly remarkable woman," he said quietly.
Obi-Wan glanced at his former Padawan with a wry smile, then sighed deeply and nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes... she certainly is."
They both watched as the Duchess and her entourage departed the landing platform and boarded the transport that would take them to the Senate complex for the crucial vote on military spending.
"Hey, guys!"
Suddenly, all heads turned to see Peter swinging toward them through the Coruscant skyline, accompanied by Sam and Pietro—with Pietro being carried somewhat awkwardly in Sam's grip.
"Sam?" Steve called out in surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought you were still on assignment."
"Why do you all smell like a garbage compactor?" Matt asked, wrinkling his nose in obvious discomfort.
"Oh... yeah, about that," Peter said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Let's just say we've been pretty busy lately, and it's been a while since any of us have had access to proper shower—"
"Details later," Anakin interrupted, holding up his hands to forestall any lengthy explanations. "Honestly, I think we could all benefit from some rest and recuperation time, if no one objects to that suggestion."
"Seconded," several of the Avengers said in unison.
"So how did the diplomatic mission go?" Sam asked as he finally set Pietro down on solid ground.
"We'll fill you in during the debriefing," Natasha replied, though she suddenly caught a whiff of something particularly pungent coming from the Sokovian speedster. "Pietro, please tell me you have some cologne or something with you."
"Well... perhaps I might have something," Pietro admitted with slight embarrassment.
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