Rain lashed through the air, cutting like blades of liquid steel through the thick, humid atmosphere.
With a gust of wind, the storm intensified, pelting Obi-Wan with precipitation and thoughtlessly he pulled his hood further over his face as he began to make his way to the rounded building.
The sea, expansive and unforgiving, could be heard roiling angrily below the landing platforms at the edges of Tipoca City as if the waves might reach up at any moment to snatch an unwary victim.
But that victim would not be him.
With a glance toward the darkening sky, Obi-Wan couldn't help but glower back.
It was almost night time on this side of the ocean planet, the faded light from the aging star that Kamino orbited giving way now to inky darkness.
The threatening glare had no effect on the storm though.
In contrast, even the momentary lifting of his face toward the raging sky left his cheeks and beard saturated with heavy drops of rain and he sighed deeply to himself as he bowed his head again,
weary and rundown, his steps heavy as he crossed the landing platform. It was almost too much, to carry on.
The violent storm reflected too accurately the state of the galaxy since the Empire had formed only months ago and the own war within his heart as he fought to stay within the light...
what little of it there was to be found.
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