Chapter 1
"Do you have it?" His low, harsh voice growled in sibilant tones, hemorrhaging a cold, repellent vibration into the icy night air. No one would have dared deny that voice, and the few that did had died for their efforts, in excruciating and prolonged agony. As the malevolent sounds vanished in the echoing silence that followed, the speaker shifted slightly, arm extended to grasp his latest prize.
"Yes, my Master." The dark-cowled apprentice bowed, and dropped his gift neatly into the waiting hand of the other.
As Darth Sidious moved again, the light spilling from the luminous Coruscant night briefly lit his face. Jarring in its power-mad intensity, the Dark Lord's visage had been called grandfatherly, a kindly man some said, with cobalt-blue eyes and generous mouth slightly turned upward in a politician's smile. Here, the shroud was stripped away, the eyes dead-cold, the smile snake-bright.
The Master peered at the item, satisfied. It was a woman's hand, once delicate, fingers now shredded, flesh ripped open between thumb and forefinger to show veined sinew and harsh bone. Burned, too, across the top with long straight strokes, the hand was encrusted with the reddish-brown detritus of her life's blood, and curled slightly inward as if to grasp a weapon or her last hope. It was cauterized neatly at the wrist. The hand had just begun to decay, with the slight sickeningly sweet odor of death.
Slowly, Darth Sidious began to stroke the corpse's palm, following her torn lifeline with his manicured fingertips. Lightly, intimately, he moved with a wanton's touch. Then, still faintly smiling, he brought the putrid hand to his mouth, took in a deep questing breath and laved the palm slowly, relishing the sharp metallic taste of old dried blood. His rumble of profane pleasure was breathless, long and low, his sigh incredibly sensual as he closed his eyes briefly, lost in the here-and-now, tasting the fear and intense anguish of her last moments. When, at last, the Master finished his loathsome exploration, he lowered his arm, still holding the dead woman's hand in a lover's caress.
"Did she give you much of a fight, my apprentice?"
Darth Maul's tattooed visage creased with a dark pleasure, mouth twisted in eager remembrance. "Yes, my Master. Ales'tka fought well. Even at the last, bleeding and in perfect agony, she seemed to enjoy prolonging the struggle." His eyes shut for an instant, turning inward to savor the memory of the Knight's crushing anguish and defiance even as her body was torn apart, his voice rumbling with suppressed laughter. He growled, "Playing with her was most....stimulating."
"Did you dispose of the body as per my instructions?"
"Yes, my Master." The apprentice seemed to hesitate, then reached into some fastness of his cloak and brought out a lightsaber. It was as battered and torn as the woman's hand and covered with the same encrusted residue. "She used this."
The Dark Lord's bark of laughter was clear, ice-sharp. Looking again at the decaying appendage, he shook his head in pointed disdain. "Oh, little Jedi. They threw you away, forbid you anything of them and you still clung to..." He glanced at the fouled saber, clutched in Darth Maul's grasp. "Ales'tka, you defied the Jedi Council. It speaks... well of you. Too bad you could not be turned. You would have been a valuable asset."
He tossed the filthy remains to the apprentice. "Enough of pleasure. Put that with the rest." Maul nodded briefly as he tucked away the decaying flesh and then offered up the lightsaber to the other. Sidious sneered, "You make keep your trophy. She won't need it again."
With a dismissive shrug, Sidious brought out a datachip and handed it to his apprentice. "Here is the list of Jedi discharged from the Temple six months ago. They should be ripe for the picking by now. As always, the Jedi Council will not be paying attention to those gone from the Temple that long. They have too much else to worry about...."
The Master's voice was icy with contempt. "Isolate and destroy these fools as with all the others." He looked at Maul, contemplating all the lovely, exciting, terrible ways to kill a Jedi. "Dispatch them as you like, but don't take too long. There are other matters that need attention."
Maul nodded again and growled. "My Master, there is still the matter of Jinn and his associates. They are too well guarded and more flock to him every day."
Sidious pondered this revelation. "Yes...it has been difficult. He is a wily opponent. But I have decided to let the Jedi Council deal with him." Maul moved to object but stilled his protest as his Master glared at him.
"Do you question me?" The malevolent voice was low and insistent, death waiting, longing to strike; the apprentice quickly shook his head. "Good." The Dark Lord 's mocking laughter was heard once more. "I enjoy the irony of the Temple punishing one of their own without our having to lift a finger against him. I will have my agent suggest it." He looked out into the vibrant, glowing Coruscant landscape, sweeping his eyes over the distance and stopping at the brilliantly-lit Temple in the distance. "I'll have them send Kenobi. Yes...Kenobi should be just the Jedi to dispatch Jinn." He began to laugh, deep, roiling, vicious sounds sweeping out into the bitter night.
Chapter 2
The Jedi Council chamber was bathed in the mellow-red glow of sunset, crimson light splashing across the ornate floor. Circular in design and majestic, with pillared windows framing the onset of coming night, the room was a breathtaking center of calm and beauty, the very heart of the Jedi Temple. The dying light hid well the worn tiles and cornered dust of neglect.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, ignored the bleak evidence of his eyes and the brilliant glare of blood-red luminescence streaking across his face. The siren call of the lights of approaching night did not tempt him. He was here to be briefed on his upcoming mission, not look at the increasing decay that was the Jedi Temple. And so, standing in the very center of the Council Chamber, arms folded, face stony and shuttered, mental shields up, Master Kenobi waited and watched. By his side, his Padawan, Atel Sl'etah, stood as well, silent and ready for the briefing to begin.
Obi-Wan glanced at his apprentice, frowning slightly. Atel was nearly 20 now, with violet eyes and maroon hair, a slight purple tint to her skin but otherwise human. Dressed in typical drab grey-beige tunics, frayed chocolate robe, and worn boots, she looked threadbare and destitute. Only the lightsabers truly indicated that they were Jedi and even the sabers were shabby, showing signs of much use.
Damn, Obi-Wan thought, She looks like a refugee, not a respected member of the Jedi Order. His frown deepened. She deserves better than this. If only I could make them understand that money spent on proper clothing is not a waste of resources. Appearances do matter to those in power. Looking down at his own tattered garb, he grimaced. I don't look so wonderful myself.
His thoughts turned towards Atel again. It did not seem possible that she had been his Padawan for ten years. Had it really been that long? mused Obi-Wan. Ten years since the first of the dismissals, since the beginning of the strangulation of the Jedi Order over...money. He snorted silently, It was always about power, never money. Closing his weary eyes for a moment, he gently sighed. I wish...that things had been...different.
The Jedi Master tried to bring his thoughts back to the matters at hand but he was tired, exhausted really, and he knew Atel was, too. They had only just returned from a grueling assignment a few hours ago. That one had been disastrous all right but somehow, somehow, they had managed to pull out a success from a very near failure...again.
Now, Obi-Wan reflected wearily, Another task and another and another. How can they expect success every time when they keep pushing us beyond the limits of endurance? He swayed slightly. Perhaps because they want us to fail? That was an uncomfortable thought, but it wasn't the first time Kenobi had pondered the question. It made sense, too, with the exhausting workload, the back-to-back missions, doing the work of two or three teams and no one to pull the Jedi out when they got into serious trouble. And here we go again. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed a slow resigned sigh.
He thought that his actions would not be noticed. But his ever-alert Padawan glanced towards her Master and sent a gentle pulse through their bond. /*Focus, Master...*/ Obi-Wan sent her a weak chuckle tickling back. And then he centered himself, breathing deeply, settling in to wait for the briefing to begin.
As the seconds stretched into endless minutes, Kenobi began to wonder why they were still waiting. He said nothing, of course. It was up to the Council to decide when and how briefings, or for that matter any discussions within these chambers, were to be conducted. Perhaps they were waiting for more information, perhaps another Council member was to join them or...perhaps it was a subtle form of power play, to impress upon this Jedi Knight just what his place in the Order was.
At the moment, Obi-Wan noted that only three Jedi Council members were in attendance, none of whom he knew other than by reputation. Kenobi began to feel the slightest pinprick of apprehension. The white-furred Bothan, Trest Sle'fey, head of the Committee for Jedi Missions, was well-known for his strict adherence to the letter rather than the intent of Republic law. Sera Tharten, a tall blue-skinned human female of indeterminate age, was exceptionally outspoken on the uses of Temple regulation control and had written the stringent, restrictive code for 'Standards for Jedi Behavior' instituted last year. The green-tinged Rodian, Veendo, was in charge of Sedition Activity Investigations, a group that had grown recently, much to Obi-Wan's dismay, looking into all aspects of Temple activity with great alacrity.
They were all youngish, too. No older, more experienced Masters. Knowledge yes, but no wisdom here, only likely punishment for petty and cryptic infractions. Obi-Wan's tickle of unease began to increase to a full-blown itch. This was not going to be pleasant. Silently sighing, he wondered what marginal offense he would be accused of this time. Unlike his former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not known for bending the rules, but he had been tainted by association and it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.
For a few more long moments, no one spoke. The Jedi Counselors shifted uneasily in the rounded chairs as though anxious to be away. Then, from behind Obi-Wan, a derisive voice.
"Do you know why you have been called here, Jedi Kenobi?"
"No, Representative Zaros." Obi-Wan quietly replied to the rat-faced, overly-dressed man. Making his way ponderously around the the dusty, darkening room, his ornate red robes glistening with fine embroidery and sparkles of light as he strutted past the bars of fading luminescence, hair perfectly in place, Kenth Zaros came to stand before the Knight, his condescending, narrowed eyes boring into him. The garish gemstones in the man's cravat alone were blinding.
Kenobi's words had been perfectly polite and did nothing to betray the absolute loathing that he felt for the foppish, decadent human. Luckily, Zaros was not a Jedi or else Obi-Wan might have faced a severe reprimand for his wayward thoughts, and a reprimand these days was not a thing to take lightly.
"We have a special mission for you, one for which you are uniquely qualified."
Zaros smiled slightly, paused and then deliberately sat down in the centermost seat, reserved for the head of the Jedi Council. Not there, Obi-Wan's thoughts raged, Not there. You have no right.
Kenobi moved imperceptibly, almost in protest, and then eased back to ready stance and waited, tight fists clenched under his threadbare Jedi robes. He breathed out, trying to get some semblance of control of the almost involuntary wish to throttle the man, and swallowed hard. When Kenth Zaros, Senate Representative of the Oversight Committee on Jedi Affairs, smiled, misfortune certainly followed. Kenobi's revulsion spiked, his thoughts on a fast jumble of past missions, of the anguish and death that this man seemed to relish. He tried to tamp down the roiling emotions before the other Jedi seated in the chamber could become aware of them and comment. His Padawan hastily glanced at him, an admission that she was reading her Master far too well.
"We want you to investigate...." Zaros paused for dramatic theatrical effect and Obi-Wan's simmering apprehension skyrocketed. But he said nothing, immovable, and the degenerate bureaucrat continued. "...Qui-Gon Jinn. Your old Master, I believe."
Obi-Wan went absolutely rigid with shock, shields buckling for a brief moment before regaining his calm. Zaros's smirk grew predatory, his beady eyes glittering, and he nodded as if pleased with the traumatic effect that he was inflicting on the Jedi Knight.
Kenobi replied softly, "Sir, I have had no contact with Master Jinn for ten years. I have repeatedly asked to be allowed to do so but...every request has been refused."
Zaros snickered and waved his bejeweled fingers, flicking an imaginary piece of dust from his glittering ornate robes. "Yes, I know. He was a bad influence on you. It was in the best interests of the Jedi Order that contact be denied."
Obi-Wan moved again, stepping towards the Senate representative, furious eyes narrowed with revulsion. His voice was low, cold, dangerous. "What do you mean by that?"
The Rodian Council Member spoke up, dismissively, "We all know that Jinn was a rogue." Obi-Wan's eyes widened in stunned disbelief, angry beyond words as the other Jedi members murmured in agreement with Veendo's assessment. "Again and again he went against the Jedi Council, following his own path, ignoring the direct orders of his obvious superiors. It was blatantly, openly rogue behavior. And, what's more, it was sedition of the worst kind. "
Kenobi could not believe what he was hearing. If possible, his voice iced further. "He was following the will of the Force."
The Rodian snorted. "So he said...."
Obi-Wan closed his weary eyes for a moment, trying desperately to regain what little calm remained to him. He knew if he protested too much, he would be punished and Atel as well. For her sake, he breathed deeply once, twice, but the bile rising in his throat, anger pushing past all reason...he must regain control.
Zaros spoke up again, voice dripping with derision, oblivious to what Kenobi was feeling or, perhaps, not caring. "Good riddance to bad rubbish. Damn old fool."
Zaros had done many things over the years, to both Kenobi and to his beloved Jedi Order. This last statement was almost too much, a small thing amongst all of the other countless injustices, all the deaths and destruction that this man had wrought on the Jedi. Now, Obi-Wan stepped quickly forward, shaking hands rising. The Bothan barked out, white fur whirling in dismay. "Yes, Kenobi, you have a comment...?"
Obi-Wan Kenobi stopped abruptly, looked at his alarmed young apprentice and, then with shoulders slumping, stepped back into the center of the Chamber. Quietly, he said "No, Master Sle'fey."
"Good. I would hate to have to reprimand you for any insolence shown to the Senate Representative."
"Of course, Master."
Zaros continued as if nothing was amiss. "Glad to hear that you will be cooperative, Kenobi."
"Of course, Representative Zaros." Obi-Wan clenched his aching jaw at such an impossible lie but knew it would suffice for now. But he would have to release his anger to the Force soon. His wearied thoughts turned to the request at hand. "May I ask what the mission is and how it pertains to Master Qui-Gon?"
"Former Jedi Jinn has been doing the work of a Jedi Knight these past years in strict violation of his mandate." Leaning forward, Zaros thrust his immaculate, manicured hands into the air, frowning and splattered his words into the chamber, sneering voice rising with emphasis. "Jinn's dismissal was very clear...as you well know, Kenobi... He defied the Council again and again and what's worse, he failed a number of times to complete his missions. When the cost-cutting efforts started and with his failures and attitude, it was clear that he would be one of the first to go. He is no longer with the Jedi Order and he is not allowed to act as a Jedi. He must desist his current activities. You... have been chosen to investigate and bring him into custody, if necessary, because you know him so very well. Who else but you?" The man leaned back, satisfied, a fat crimson arachnid spinning his cruel web.
Obi-Wan Kenobi murmured, "Who else indeed?"
Chapter 3
The briefing, if it could be called that, lasted another grueling two hours. Aside from the cutting, snide comments of Master Jinn's unworthiness and roguish behavior from Council member Veendo and admonishments on maintaining proper 'Standards of Behavior' at all times from Master Tharten, Kenth Zaros had gone into inordinate length condemning Qui-Gon Jinn's current activities. But there was little real information about those activities. And, in the end, the Bothan Master Sle'fey carelessly tossed him a datapad with a terse "Read it." Obi-Wan was seething by the time it was done.
After the Council Chamber doors slid closed behind them, Obi-Wan and his Padawan made their slow way towards the turbolift. The Jedi Master may have been tired but the boiling adrenalin was coursing through his veins now and he needed to...to break something very large and very expensive, preferably something that made a great deal of noise when it shattered.
His young apprentice kept glancing at him and shaking her head in dismay. She spoke softly, "Well, that was fun." Atel gave him a shy, quirky smile and he sensed that she was trying unsuccessfully to divert him from his anger. He wasn't willing to give it up just yet.
A little furrow line marked his brow, the frown only pulling in the painful effects of the last few hours. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, trying unsuccessfully to stave off the exhaustion. The fury, too, remained, swirling in his braincase like some hungry beast, steel claws tightening their ferocious grip. An intense headache blossomed suddenly, agony shooting across his eyes, arching around and down to the base of his skull. He moved his shoulders in a futile attempt to release the stress and tension, to no avail. It had not been a good day.
He rubbed his eyes slightly, in one last attempt to push the pain aside and then, gesturing towards the turbolift, he told his weary Padawan. "I need to walk for a while. You go back to our quarters and get some rest. I'll be along shortly."
But Atel had other ideas. With quick, feline grace, she moved closer and touched his worn sleeve. "Master, I must respectfully disagree. The last thing you need right now is exercise." He glared at her for a long moment. "You know we're both exhausted. Come back with me. Rest." She grinned slyly. "I'll make you a nice cup of tea."
Obi-Wan snorted at that. Tea would not relieve his concerns or that blasted fury lingering behind the pain. He needed to walk - no, run as far and as fast as he was able - needed to do something to lash out at the incredible injustice of it all. But he could not, would not. That's not what a Jedi Master must do. He smiled slightly at his concerned apprentice, her violet eyes searching his haggard face.
"Padawan, I truly appreciate your concern but I must do this, to think about what just went on in the Council chambers. You can go back to our quarters if you wish or you can come with me. Your choice."
"My place is by your side, Master."
Her words seemed to echo forever in the darkening hallway. Another Padawan had said those very words to his Master and meant them, meant them then and meant them now. Obi-Wan blinked away sudden tears. Ten years. Ten years since I last saw Qui-Gon? How is that possible? I should have tried harder to contact him. I should have made sure he was all right. Will he understand the circumstances? Do I? Do I have enough courage to look my Master in the face after a decade with that shame? Growling, he slammed down hard on his thoughts. Now was not the time for this. When he saw Qui-Gon Jinn again, there would be moments enough for regrets and apologies.
"Come then."
With one last longing look at the lone turbolift, Atel sighed lightly and fell into step beside her wearied Master. They turned as one towards the stairs and began the long, slow descent towards the living quarters.
As their footfalls echoed into the hollow depths of the deserted stairwell, the Padawan pulled her ragged cloak tightly about her. It seemed chill here and dark, the dusky space strobing with dim light as the glowlamps flickered randomly. The litter of time hung in forgotten corners, paint peeling in places, the railing worn and in need of repair. She had seen better kept dungeons. She quietly glanced at her Master but he did not appear to notice the neglect as they glided ever downward.
The constant twists and turns of the stairs seemed to give him comfort. Obi-Wan's pain had lessened as his body remembered to walk and step, concentrating on soothing movement rather than the intolerable tension of that ghastly meeting. He felt more at ease, centered, accepting that the future may hold trials and problems but this moment was for living.
At last, when the Jedi reached the residential level, when they finally sprung from that dim place, Obi-Wan seemed preoccupied. He stopped, looking about him. Chuckling slightly and startling his puzzled apprentice, he gestured toward the stairwell and its battered durasteel door.
"I remember this place so well. Did you know that I met my Master for the first time by that door? Or rather the door met him..."
Her violet eyes grew wide as Obi-Wan reached with one hand and caressed the ancient metal, gently following the lines of misuse with his fingers. "We, Garen and I, were trouble-makers even then. I couldn't have been more than seven or eight, devious as sin and bent on breaking every rule at the Temple." He gave a quick, warm laugh. "I had bet Garen that I could race all the way down from the Council Chambers faster than the turbolifts. He was skeptical, of course but accepted the wager. What he didn't realize was that I had pressed the buttons for every floor as I raced away, running headlong down these very stairs. I would have made it, too, if a certain Jedi Master hadn't gotten in the way." He laughed again. "I don't know who was more surprised, Qui-Gon or me." Shaking his head, his grin widened. "You should have seen him, the staid Jedi Master flat on the floor, hair wild, his blue eyes smoky with anger. And me, sprawled on top. I'd tripped on his legs, of course. Once he collected himself, he grabbed me as quick as lightening, holding me by the scruff of my tunic, bending down to see what hooligan had dared pull a fast one."
"I was terrified. He was renowned, a brilliant swordsman, said to be the best in living memory and I was just a stupid kid who had gotten caught. I expected to be scrubbing the Temple floors from here to the top of the tower but he surprised me." Obi-Wan's face was relaxed, his blue-grey eyes alight with remembrance. "Qui-Gon stared at my face for a moment, then looked at the door and I knew somehow that he had figured out what I had done. Just then, Garen raced up and began to berate me for cheating, never noticing that a Master still held my tunic. And, his eyes, my Master's eyes, grew bright with mischief as he looked at us, quarreling, making accusation and counter-accusation. I couldn't believe it when Qui-Gon began to laugh. Stopped us both cold. In the end, we were all laughing and then he let us go. Last thing I remember about that day was peering back at Qui-Gon as he walked away, chuckling and shaking his head."
Obi-Wan's face grew still. "That was before Xan's fall, of course, when he was still happy. It took me a long time to help him bury those demons....but that day, I made him laugh." His eyes closed briefly in despair and loss and then he peered at Atel, sighing. "How I miss him."
The Padawan stood rigid with shock. "But...Master... I thought you hated him."
Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to be stunned. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
Atel was thoroughly confused, looked down and then into her Master's questioning eyes. "Forgive me, Master. But you never talk about your old Master. You've never said a word about him. I thought you were ashamed to be trained by that rogue Jedi."
Obi-Wan's startled voice grew harsh and strident, his eyes hard as stone. "How dare you. Don't ever call him that again. Ever!" He closed his eyes, the pain roaring back, spiking with intense urgency. He knew he should not be berating his Padawan like this; she had told the truth from her perspective. But to hear such accusations coming from her mouth after the Council's lies, it was too much. "Go back to our quarters. I will discuss this with you when I have calmed down."
"But...."
"Now, Padawan."
She nodded and turned, dejected. Obi-Wan stood, arms crossed, face scowling and watched as she scurried away. Then, shoulders slumping, he leaned against the door, weary and bewildered.
He muttered, "Blast! I shouldn't have done that. Why would she think such a thing? How could she? Qui-Gon a rogue? Never!" Gritting his teeth, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to will away the pain and exhaustion. But it did no good. "Damn the Council for this mess. And damn Qui-Gon for leaving me here."
Still unnerved by his Padawan's accusations, the Master knew that he needed a sanctuary, somewhere safe to try and capture his lost serenity, to find his calm center. He yearned for a place of quiet meditation. Contemplating his limited options in these troubled days, a warm thought came to him. It was obvious; he knew just where he had to go.
The Room of a Thousand Fountains was ancient, older certainly than living memory, with a quiet beauty that was timeless and breathtaking. Known for its bubbling streams and stunning vistas, roaring waterfalls and cool breezes, it was the one sanctuary known to all. To Obi-Wan, it had always held a special place in his heart. So much of his past, so much history had taken place within its lush confines, both good and bad. He knew it would be the perfect place to find serenity again.
Smiling, he moved towards the distant gardens, past the living quarters, past the empty creches and the silent gymnasiums, past all the problems that had plagued his heart this day. When, at last, he reached his destination, he paused outside the ancient carved wooden doors, savoring the moment, welcoming the thought of all that greenery pulsing gently with the Living Force. He knew that much-needed tranquility was just beyond the ornate doors.
He was so wrong.
As he pushed the heavy doors wide, a overwhelming glare of harsh lights blinded him. Thrusting an arm upward to cover his now-tearing eyes, he noticed the artificial hum of mechanicals, the smell of rank fertilizer and grim taste of crushed greenery. He could not believe his eyes. Gone were the rivers, streams, swaying trees and flowers of every kind. Instead, row upon row, tiering upward, as far as the eye could see, were the plants and fruits of commerce. They had turned his beloved sanctuary into despised Bandomeer, into an agricultural factory. He stood there, stunned, swaying with disbelief. Scrubbing at his eyes to wash away the appalling vision, he looked again. Plants filled the entire space, orderly rows of vegetables, vines heavy with fruit hanging along the sides of the terraces as they mounted up towards the ceiling, exotic herbs swaying in the breeze. Every space conceivable was filled with the green of industry. Nowhere were the stone pathways, the swards of grass, the gentle grace of blooming flowers...nowhere.
He must have made some sound of anguished protest, some small noise. A human-sized droid, obviously in charge, floated up to him. "Master Jedi, you should not be here."
"What...what happened? Where is the mediation garden? What have you done?" Obi-Wan's voice was rising, almost in panic.
"Master Jedi. Please leave or I will have to call someone in authority. Go now, sir." The droid was polite but adamant. A mechanical arm swept out, grasping the Jedi's cloak and gently but firmly led Obi-Wan out into the corridor. Releasing him, it turned, without a backward glance, and closed the door.
The clang of locks turning in place, sealing the space, echoed in the darkened hallway. The Jedi just stood there, mouth open, eyes unblinking. He breathed a small "No" and then seemed to fold into himself, legs buckling as he collapsed onto the tiled floor. Pulling his legs up, hugging them as he moved into a fetal position, burying his face in his hands, Obi-Wan rocked back and forth. He sat there for a very long time.
Chapter 4
His apprentice found Obi-Wan slumped in front of the ancient doors some hours later. Atel had become concerned when he did not return and, ignoring his strict orders to remain in their quarters, hunted him out. Something was wrong; she could feel it.
"Master, it's time to come back." She pulled at him, grabbing onto his unresisting arm, tugging insistently. He just looked at her with exhausted eyes, shaking his head. "Come on, Master. You can't stay here. If you do, they'll just punish you again. And me with you." With a final upward wrench, she managed to get Obi-Wan to his feet.
He stared at her, wounded and confused. Low, harsh, his voice raspy with unshed tears, he nodded towards the doors. "Did you know about this?"
"Yes, of course. The rumor mills have been buzzing about it for months."
"Why? Why did they do that? It was so beautiful."
"You must be joking. Why? Money, of course. The Senate has just cut the allotment again. The Council needed the money to maintain the Order. It was that or more dismissals."
"Not again."
"Come on, Master. We can't stay here and discuss this. I've got tea brewing, even as we speak." With that, Atel pushed her exhausted Master towards the living quarters. They could not discuss Temple matters in the monitored hallway; that might be considered seditious and they were in enough trouble with the Jinn mission coming up. Better to get Master Kenobi up to their rooms and let him talk there.
Urgently she pulled and pushed and prodded him and, at last, they tumbled into the tiny common room of their apartment. Obi-Wan collapsed onto the small couch, giving a slight ooff sound as he sat down. Atel moved to the kitchenette and brought forth the promised tea, gently placing it into her Master's trembling hands. He just stared at it for a while, watching the steam rising in the cool air and then, dipping his face downward, took a small sip.
"Thank you, my young Padawan. It's very good." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and leaned back as his troubled apprentice hurriedly propped a pillow behind his head. "How did you know where to find me?"
She shrugged. "You often talk about that garden and I remember walking there with you many times. I thought that you might go there to meditate." She looked down and then into his bruised eyes. "I'm sorry about the gardens, Master. I know what they meant to you."
"I suppose it's better than more dismissals." Obi-Wan's hand pushed against his temple again as the headache continued to pulse and throb. He needed to get a painkiller but, not yet, not yet. Not until he apologized for his behavior to her.
"I..."
"Yes, Padawan?"
She knelt before him, a picture of perfect penitence, and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Master. I should not have spoken so to you."
"Atel, you did nothing wrong."
"I must humbly disagree. I knew we were both tired and you were upset. I just didn't realize..."
"My young apprentice, I repeat, you did nothing wrong. I had no idea that was how you felt about Qui-Gon." Atel looked up at him with violet eyes, haggard and worn. She shook her head.
"I should have been more mindful. You never talk about him. I just assumed..."
He pulled her up and gestured to sit by his side. His arm came around her in a sharp hug, then released her and took her small hand in his own.
"Atel, I never talk about him because it hurts too much to do so. He was my mentor, my Master, almost a father to me. When he was dismissed, I was devastated, heartbroken and alone. I couldn't believe that they could do something like that to this great man." She frowned at that but said nothing as he continued. "He told me not to contact him, that it might hurt me to do so. Hurt me...hah. There he was, thrown out of the Temple, his only home, almost penniless, and he was worried about me. I ignored his advice, of course. How could I not?"
He shook his head at the harsh memories. "At first, I requested information about him every day. And every day I was told to mind my own business and not be concerned with people no longer within the Jedi Order. After a couple of months, I grew frantic and began to make my own discreet inquiries. I guess I wasn't too discreet because they found out. I was hauled before the Council and told in no uncertain terms to stop what I was doing. I bowed slightly and left and began again to make inquiries. I was more guarded this time but they must have had surveillance on me because I was brought again before the Council. This time they sent me for punishment." Atel made a small gesture of dismay.
"Oh, the Council does not harm those people they wish to punish, not physically, at least. That would be barbaric and the Council is anything but that." The sarcasm was not lost on his young apprentice. He just shook his head at the chilling memories. "They sentenced me to a day in the cells at the bottom of the Temple." Atel looked confused again.
"You've never been there, I know. I made very sure that you were never to blame whenever punishment was meted out. The cells are Force-shielded so that no Jedi could escape - at least that was their original intent. When you are put into the cells, it is as if the Force does not exist and you are alone. But, but.. it was more than that. They must have enhanced the shielding or put in some type of augmentation device for amplifying emotions in an escalating feedback loop, maybe as a test of will or control. I don't know. I would have thought that some inkling of that type of... device would have leaked out, the rumors should have been running wild but there was never a whisper. Maybe it was experimental...but whatever they did, whatever they used, it was extremely effective."
He took a deep shuddering breath and stared straight ahead. "In there, blind and deaf to the Force, you feel smothered, unable to breathe, panicking in that awful place, intensely claustrophobic, your whole being screaming for escape. The walls seem to close in, ceiling collapsing, mind wailing from the panicked echoes of the fear and torment of those who have been there before, and you are alone, so alone. It drives some insane with that loss, especially those trained within the Order from early childhood."
Obi-Wan shivered. "After a day in there, I would have done almost anything to avoid it again. Almost...but within a couple of weeks, I renewed my attempts to find out what I could about Qui-Gon. And again I was caught. Punishment this time was three days."
He stared at her, pain scrabbling behind his eyes, pulsing, pulsing around his neck and temples. He shrugged. "After that, I became very sneaky. It took them almost six months to find out about my little investigations. This time, punishment was a week."
Obi-Wan looked down, ashamed. "I am a coward, Atel. I couldn't... couldn't face that again. I stopped looking."
"But, Master, you said in the meeting, that you had repeatedly asked about Master Jinn."
"I have asked every week for the last ten years but the Council refuses any contact. I had hoped to talk with him, with or without the approval of the Council." He closed his eyes in pain and then looked at her with abject misery.
"Ten years, Atel. The best man I have ever known and I let him down. How can I face him again after all that time?"
"I don't know, Master. Perhaps he has changed."
"No, not Qui-Gon."
"Master Obi-Wan, it has been a long time. Former Master Jinn is accused of crimes against the Jedi Temple. Surely, he must have done something to merit this investigation. And he is, after all, a rogue Jedi."
Obi-Wan stood abruptly, the fragile teacup tumbling from his hands and smashing on the floor, the dissonant sound of china shattering, hot tea flying everywhere. He towered over her, enraged, his head spasming with pain.
"Never. Never a rogue. I told you no."
Atel was almost crying in her bewilderment. "Master, please. We were told he was a Jedi gone bad and dismissed for that very reason. My last class in treaty negotiation went over the circumstances several times. It's the truth, Master. Qui-Gon Jinn went rogue and was thrown out of the Order because of it."
He was stunned and stared at his apprentice with disbelief. Legs buckling, he sat down hard on the couch and tried to find the calm center that he needed so badly. He breathed deeply, once, twice. Then quietly, distinctly, he spoke, his voice firm. "Atel, listen to me. I was there all the time, for every mission. Qui-Gon Jinn never became a rogue Jedi. You have been taught a lie. The question is - why are they lying about it?"
Chapter 5
The two day flight to Naboo proved to be a boon to the weary Jedi. With no badgering sycophants, no cryptic admonishments for proper behavior and no life-threatening stops along the way, there was finally time to rest, a surprising gift after the exhaustion of endless missions.
"There you are, Padawan." Obi-Wan wore a slight grin as the still bleary-eyed Atel moved into the common area of their tiny accommodations. "I was wondering when you were going to get up. You've been asleep almost a full day and there is much to discuss."
She just grunted in response and moved to get some juice from the table. "Master, how is it that you always seem so...awake in the morning?" Admittedly, when Atel finally awoke from her dreamless sleep, she had not been eager to vacate her comfortable bed. It had been so long since she could revel in anything so luxurious, so decadent. But immovable duty called and so she sought out her Master.
He shook his head in fond remembrance. "You think I get up early? You should have seen Master Qui-Gon; he was always up with the dawn."
The mention of that former Jedi brought a quick frown to Atel's features but she turned her head so that Obi-Wan could not see it. She was still uncertain as to how to take her Master's assertions that Jinn was no rogue. Could all of her teachers have been so wrong? Could the histories be false? She knew that Master Obi-Wan would never consciously deceive her but he could be mistaken. Loyalty could beguile and twist perception into lies especially when his bonds with Master Jinn were so powerful. She would have to wait and see. She clenched her jaw, for just a second. I will have to be strong if he cannot. I just hope it will not come to that.
Schooling her features into one of calm concern, she looked towards the datapad, lying loose in his grasp, asking. "Maybe you should tell me about the information on former Master Jinn. I assume that it is complete."
He snorted at that and frowned. "No, it is not."
Tossing it to his apprentice, she grabbed it neatly out of the air and sat down to read.
The information on the life and times of the former Jedi Master, one Qui-Gon Jinn, was frustratingly brief. For the first few months, he had been tracked incessantly, every job, every conversation monitored; it wouldn't do for a Jedi, even one dismissed from the Temple, to be behaving inappropriately. Discarded, yes but not unnoticed, Qui-Gon had gone from menial job to slightly shady dealings back to menial job. Finally, he obtained a position with the Naboo security forces and was moving up the ranks when, as per Temple policy, the half-year investigation ceased and Qui-Gon Jinn dropped out of sight.
He showed up again eight years later, a successful businessman, residing in the hill country of Naboo. Going off-world several times a year for supposedly "mercantile" dealings, there were instances of spikes and ebbs in his cash flow accounts, unexplained and undocumented. He gave heavily to something called the "Bendu Philosophical Group" , to the "Abolishionist Union" and the "Rescue Relief Fund" but also to many other charities, legitimate or otherwise. In addition, he had been called upon by several influential Outer Rim groups to negotiate disputes, not a bad thing in of itself, but hovering close to that of the Jedi's fiercely protected mandate. More damning was the gathering of several force-sensitive individuals within his sphere of influence, potential problems if they decided to band together and challenge the Jedi Order's place within the Republic and the powerful Senate. The Council did not take kindly to any threat, however insignificant, and these small coincidences were enough to warrant an investigation.
Obi-Wan paced as his apprentice sat quietly and absorbed the information. He knew that there was not enough evidence on that datapad for outright condemnation of his former Master. Point of fact, there was little real proof of any misconduct. But the Order and his own conscience would demand that Obi-Wan investigate the allegations to the best of his ability and make some judgment as to whether to take Qui-Gon into custody. Misuse of the Force, especially for material gain or power, was a serious offense in the Republic. And the Council would be quick to mete out justice.
Worry about meeting his old Master, long-buried guilt at letting Qui-Gon down and the more recent anger at the Council for forcing him to this subterfuge, swirled about his head like some malevolent swarm of demoniac ghosts. Cursed by Master Qui-Gon if I do and condemned by the Council if I don't. I hate this...I hate it.
Atel must have felt some of his anxiety. Glancing up almost nervously, she watched his movements gain a jerky quality as he marched from wall to wall and back again, almost droid-like in his walk. And he was muttering to himself as well, not a good sign. This was not like her Master at all; she had never seen him so disconcerted, so anxious. Time to divert his attention.
"Master, something about this isn't right. Have you read all of this? Especially the recent Naboo history?"
"No, I skipped the history. What troubles you?"
"Whoever wrote this expects us to believe that....it's just so absurd. According to the reports, about nine years ago, Naboo was invaded by the Trade Federation. At the time, they had a fourteen year old girl as an elected queen." She rolled her eyes at that but got a stern look from Obi-Wan, settled down and began again with some exasperation in her voice. "I know, Master, I know. I realize that other species develop early. The Tssek't are mature at three and dead at 20 and don't even get me started on the Neventhk. But we are talking humans, here, after all." Another severe frown. Shrugging, she continued. "Somehow, this young girl managed to fend off the Federation with a brilliant maneuver, capturing the Viceroy. But, that's not the ludicrous part, although it does seem a bit farfetched. A nine-year old boy, piloting a Naboo starfighter, managed to blow up the droid control ship and save the day. Nine years old! That has got to be wrong. Maybe they meant a nineteen year old boy....?"
"I've heard more unusual things in my life. Perhaps the Force was with the child?" He sounded unsure, unable to dismiss the tale but not ready to believe it either.
Atel snorted at that, dismissing the thought. "Surely a boy with that much Force potential would be at the Temple. Must have been dumb luck."
Obi-Wan softly replied. "There's no such thing as luck."
"So you always tell me." She sent a sly smile his way. "Well, then, perhaps, your old Master knows him."
"I wouldn't be in the least surprised. He was always picking up strays."
The Padawan just grunted again, and turned back to her reading. Obi-Wan looked at her fondly for a moment, realizing that all too soon she would be off on her own missions, a Knight of the Jedi Order. He remembered wanting that name, that position as a young boy, as if reaching for a dazzling star, his longing pulsing bright. Such happiness when Qui-Gon finally chose him, so much joy and intensity in the training and the missions. His old Master had been a puzzle at first, stoic and inscrutable. But, once you got past his brusque exterior, his abiding affection and patient understanding ran parsecs deep. Obi-Wan had adored his Master, had hoped for a long and illustrious career with Qui-Gon there as mentor, father, friend. And yet it had all turned to ash.
He looked again at his apprentice. It was time to make amends, time to tell her about his Master, time to make her understand the truth of Qui-Gon Jinn.
"Atel, my Master's inexhaustible talent for acquiring strays was the stuff of legends. I remember one incident where..."
The Jinn residence was located quite close to Naboo's secondary spaceport, a easy landspeeder ride over gently dappled hills. As they approached, Obi-Wan Kenobi could not help but admire the serene loveliness of the place. Colored in rich honeyed tones, low and rambling, the stone house was wrapped in a blossom-covered porch, feathery trees kissing the gleaming slate roof. Several windows peeped through the green shrubbery, reflecting the blued, ice-capped mountains in the distance. Everywhere, the air was incredibly fresh and scented with flowers, delicious and relaxing. It made him envious for a moment but he hastily shook off the unnerving feeling.
As soon as the speeder powered down, Kenobi told his apprentice to scout out the area. He planned to meet with Master Qui-Gon alone, to gauge his reactions to this intrusive "visit". When he was more comfortable with the setup, he would contact her. The Padawan nodded and scampered away towards the larger outbuildings. Obi-Wan remained behind, patiently waiting for his former Master to appear, discovering for himself just what reception he could expect after all these years. He didn't have long to wait.
"Hello, Obi-Wan."
Kenobi closed his eyes for a brief moment, then pivoted slowly, the sound of that calm, beloved voice triggering a myriad of stunning memories, bright flashes of intense imagery cascading through his mind, Bandomeer, Telos, Qui-Gon laughing, screaming at him to get down as blaster bolts twanged past, gentle smiles, severe frowns, that last horrible day on Coruscant. It was too overwhelming, the emotions of a lost lifetime. Obi-Wan knew he must regain control and so he brutally suppressed the thoughts with an almost audible snap. He swallowed hard, finished his turn and stood there in typical Jedi stance, lifting his troubled eyes to the man that had once meant everything to him. Qui-Gon Jinn, his former Master.
The years had been kind to Qui-Gon. Brown and silvered hair still cascaded down his broad shoulders and he remained bearded, but there was a lightness of being in his clear blue eyes, his body straight and tall. He was not dressed in Jedi robes now, but in a comfortable blue tunic and leggings, slightly stained from kneeling in the soil. Qui-Gon's hands were covered in dirt, a smudge on his cheek, but he seemed very content, at ease with the universe. Seeing Obi-Wan's face, he broke into a broad smile.
"It's so good to see you again." Jinn strode forward, impossibly fast, and Obi-Wan was abruptly enveloped in a ferocious hug. The moment seemed forever as Obi-Wan eagerly leaned into the embrace, remembering the warmth and spirit that was uniquely Qui-Gon. His breath hitched once as he blinked away sudden tears. Finally, reluctantly, Qui-Gon stepped back a bit, his large hands still grasping the shoulders of his former apprentice. Grinning as he studied Obi-Wan, his intense gaze faltered slightly as Jinn looked more closely. Obi-Wan knew that he wore the stoic Jedi facade well but there was a unsettling shadow to his manner, his mouth tightly compressed, his blue eyes hooded. He could not hide the unhappiness buried deep inside, not from his old Master.
"Padawan, how I've missed you."
"Hello, Master Jinn."
"Obi-Wan, please. Not so formal. My name is Qui-Gon, in case you have forgotten." He teased, blue eyes twinkling.
Stepping back, he wiped his large hands on his leggings and looked again at his former apprentice. Obi-Wan knew that Master Qui-Gon was remembering the last time he had seen him, ten long years before. Forced to leave the Temple, practically penniless, without friends or family, told to leave all behind, clothes, possessions, lightsaber, it had been a harrowing time. But the most damning thing of all was having to abandon his apprentice. The loss of that relationship had hurt both men deeply; they were still paying the price.
As Qui-Gon continued to scrutinize him, Obi-Wan realized that he could feel the questions rising in his Master's thoughts, questions about where he had been for the past ten years and why no contact. But Kenobi remained stonily silent and Qui-Gon, ever the diplomat, turned and gestured for him to follow.
"Come into the house. I need to get cleaned up and then we can talk." Looking around, Qui-Gon puzzled, "Where's your Padawan? You have one, don't you?"
Kenobi shrugged. "Oh, yes. She's around somewhere, probably looking at the plants in your garden. She'll be along soon enough."
Qui-Gon blinked, unasked questions flitting across his face and then he schooled his leonine features back into a broad smile. "Well, then. Come and meet the family."
"Family?!"
"Of course. I'm not a Jedi Knight any more. I'm a farmer with a wife and son." He grinned slyly, looking at Obi-Wan's startled face. "And a baby girl on the way." Kenobi's stunned look was priceless and Qui-Gon burst out laughing. "Come in."
Qui-Gon strode up the broad stone steps, and paused in the cool shade of the long porch. He glanced back at his former apprentice and a warm smile lit his eyes, turning them a brilliant blue. "It's good to see you again, Obi-Wan." Nodding slightly, he turned and went into the house. His voice echoed through the open windows, "Le'orath, we have guests. Where are you, love?" as the sound of his footsteps faded into the far rooms.
The Jedi closed his eyes for a moment, the troubled frown deepening across his face. This was certainly not what he had expected. When assigned this mission, the Council had said that Qui-Gon Jinn was a successful businessman, not a farmer. A farmer! And with a family. Blast!! I knew I should have said no. I just knew it. Kenobi growled deep in his throat, furious with that Sith-begotten Council. It was too much, the pain of potential betrayal too great. He snarled again. They did this for spite and now I'm trapped. How am I going to do this? Shifting into immovable stance, determined to control the careening emotions, he breathed deeply once, twice. Do what you must, Kenobi. Duty first and always.
Obi-Wan looked towards the inviting house for a long moment, then lifted his comlink and contacted his apprentice. "Atel, be mindful. Things are not as they seem."
A soft voice replied, "Yes, Master. I must agree. I'm almost at the barn now. And, Master....I think that there is a force-sensitive here. A very strong force-sensitive."
"Be careful, young one. And cautious. Remember, at the moment, we are here for a visit. Nothing more. I will let you know when I want you back." Obi-Wan clicked off and followed his former Master into the house.
The Padawan looked disconcertedly at her comlink. Something was definitely up with Master Obi-Wan. She had never heard him more unsure but she pushed it to the back of her mind. Duty first. Investigating the barn and the occupant were her main priorities at this moment. There would be time enough later for questions and answers.
She looked again at the large outbuilding. More than two stories high, it appeared to be made out of stone and wood with earth mounded up along both sides. She thought, irrelevantly, that winters here must be brutal for such a strong structure but shrugged and looked for a way in. The front portals were immense and appeared to be locked but, off to the side, a small human-sized door beckoned. Pushed quietly, the door gave way to a large interior structure, almost cathedral-like in its size and scope, the light streaming though the upper windows. On either side, were tiers of droids and other mechanicals, obviously used for harvesting various types of crops. The center was wide and bare, but large enough for a gymnasium or salle. Large rings and bars hung from the distant roof; it was difficult to guess what their purposes could be, although, at the Temple, they would have been used in training exercises.
Her eyes halted on a lone figure, sitting cross-legged on the floor at the center of the structure. Light pooled around him, seemed to set him pulsing with radiance, his bright blond hair shimmering. More importantly, he was ablaze in the Force. Here was the force-sensitive she had sensed, a most powerful one, if she was any judge. He was turned away from her, with tools scattered about him and his arms and back moved as if he were struggling with something in his hands. She knew that he was aware of her, his breathing had stopped for just a second and he had shifted slightly. But he said not a word, just kept working as she moved towards him.
Finally, not turning, he spoke quietly. "May I help you?"
"I didn't mean to startle you. I was just exploring. I've never been on this type of estate before."
With that, putting down the droid in his hands, he rose gracefully to his feet and turned to face her. Dressed in blue tunic and leggings, he was about 20 years old, tall, slim and quite good-looking, his hair cropped short in a shaggy style reminiscent of a Padawan cut. A small blue jewel glittered in his right earlobe as the sunlight moved across his face.
"Estate? This is a ...." His blue eyes tightened suddenly, frowning, his whole body alert.
"Jedi!" He scowled at her. "What in the blazes is a Jedi doing here?"
She stepped back, startled as he moved towards her, posture threatening. Atel shifted into ready stance of the first defense, her hands hovering, waiting for the attack. He started to mirror her move, then stopped, realizing what he was doing, and stood up straight, hands clenched.
"I repeat. What are you doing here?"
"We are visiting former Master Jinn. I believe he owns the place?" She tried to make it sound light but he would have none of it.
"Yes, he does. We...? Who are you?"
She straightened, then bowed slightly. "I am Atel Sl'etah, Padawan Learner to Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you are...?"
He seemed distracted suddenly. "Anakin Skywalker. I'm apprenticed to Master Jinn. Kenobi, you say..."
She nodded. "Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know him?"
He looked at her again, growling. "Kenobi, Kenobi...yes, I've heard of him." He tried to push past her, rushing towards the side-door, but she stood firm.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?"
He snorted. "Back to the house. To make sure that Master Jinn is all right. Protect him from your blasted Kenobi if I need to."
"What are you talking about? Master Obi-Wan wouldn't hurt him." She was clearly concerned at his attitude. What could he have heard about Master Kenobi? Did he suspect that our mission is not just a visit but an investigation? That's not possible.
He looked at her with contempt. "You high and mighty Jedi. You think that I am a fool? You toss people out of the Order like so much garbage and then they get killed. Well, you won't do that to Master Jinn. I'll see the whole damn Temple come crashing down around your ears first. I swear it." He abruptly sidestepped her, then disappeared through the door, the backswing hitting the jamb with a loud crack.
She just stood there stunned for an instant.What in the blazes was that all about? And then she moved hurriedly to catch up. She would protect her Master with her life, even against that brash idiot.
Obi-Wan pushed the front door open and entered a large common room, beautiful in its quiet elegancy. Two comfortable couches skimmed the far walls, a scattering of fabric covered chairs, a low table near the sofas - all denoted that this was the outward facade, the meeting place for guests and business clientele. Done in cremes and beiges, there were also bright splashes of color here and there; the pillows strewn on the couches, artwork of people and places hung on the walls, a shawl cast over one chair. There were clusters of flowers everywhere, done in simple designs that spoke of wealth and style.Beyond the far right doorway, a whoosh of running water and the soft undertones of voices beckoned him. But then the sounds turned strident and he paused, torn by the twin problems of letting Qui-Gon have the privacy he deserved and the mission-imperatives that Obi-Wan must follow. Duty won and he moved closer.
A feminine voice rang out, troubled and angry. "Kenobi's here!?" The sounds turned sarcastic. "Well, about damn time. Ten years of ignoring you and he just waltzes in here without a word."
"Le', please. Can't you just let it be, just for a little while? I've missed him. Now, he's here. Let's at least pretend he's here to see me."
"So, now, it comes down to pretense. Qui, love, he's hurt you every day. I could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. I won't let him hurt you again." The sound of water stopped. "All right, all right, for your sake, I'll be civil." Soft noises and a heavy sigh. "Why is he here anyway? A mission?"
"Not a visit, not after all this time. Look, I've left him out there. Go and be polite while I change... Polite, mind."
Another sarcastic "Yes, oh wise Master."
The sound of footsteps coming his way galvanized Obi-Wan to step back into the center of the common room. The woman who entered was about forty years old, tall, with braided waist-length red hair and piercing green eyes, relatively thin, although her waistline had begun to thicken with pregnancy. Le'orath Jinn was not beautiful, but striking in the classic sense, so much so that, after a moment's reflection, mere beauty would seem unimportant. She filled the space with her presence, her emerald eyes staring straight into the soul.
"Knight Kenobi, welcome to our home. Please sit down." Her voice was pleasant, seemingly congenial as she gestured to one of the far couches.
Obi-Wan bowed politely. "Thank you, Mistress Jinn." He sat quickly, his tattered brown robes pooling around him, and turned to his hostess. "You have a very lovely place here."
She settled next to him and, smiling, reached for his hand. Taking it in her own, she squeezed gently at first but with increasingly painful pressure. She leaned over, still smiling, her eyes stone cold, and spoke quietly, so that her voice would not carry.
"Listen to me, you miserable bastard. I don't know why you've come. I don't know why it took you ten years to get your worthless Jedi carcass here to visit him. And, by the Gods, I certainly don't know why he still loves you like a son. But I swear to you, if you hurt him again, I don't care who you are - Jedi Knight, Republic representative, Supreme Chancellor, I don't care. I will hunt you down and destroy you. Do you understand me, Jedi?"
With that, she let his hand go and he shook it slightly to help circulation return. At first, her words had filled him with astonishment but the shame soon followed. Coward... Kenobi, you should have tried harder. It was clear that she loved Qui-Gon very much. To threaten a Jedi so was not to be taken lightly.
"I understand, Mistress Jinn. Perhaps more than you know."
He turned to say something else, maybe reassure her but at that moment, Qui-Gon returned. Dressed now in white shirt and dark-blue leggings, commanding and tall, he almost looked like a pirate or mercenary. Behind him stood a child, about four years old, red haired and blue-eyed, peering out from behind large legs.
"Le'orath, I seemed to have misplaced my son. Has anyone seen him? Oh, dear, oh, dear. Guess I'll just have to go get another one..."
The child giggled and looked up at his father. "Here I am, Daddy."
Qui-Gon turned and caught up the little one in his arms, a patently pretend growl escaping his lips. "What's this? Oh, here you are..." Hoisting the child over his shoulder, the boy giggling as he is held upside down, Qui-Gon walked over to Obi-Wan and tapped his son on the bottom. "This is my son, Ben. Usually, he is right side up but it appears that today is an upside-down day."
There were more muffled giggles, some wiggling and then, "Put me down, Daddy." With that, Ben was lifted and set down next to Le'orath. Putting her arm around his shoulder, cuddling him close as though for protection, she glared straight at Kenobi. The child looked at his mother and then at the stranger in their midst.
Kenobi had some experience in the initiate's creche; all the knights must spend time there now that most of the staff had been dismissed. Outwardly, the child seemed quite ordinary as far as children go. This one, however, was strong, very strong, in the Force, powerful enough to have been sent to the Temple three years ago. Why he was here and not on Coruscant spoke volumes. Indeed there was something amiss.
Kenobi bowed slightly to the boy. "Hello, young Ben. I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am very pleased to meet you."
The child's eyes grew wide with recognition as he buried himself deeper into his mother's arms. His voice trembled with fear. "Daddy, it's the Knight, the Jedi. Just like in my dream....it's Obi-Wan. Did you know that? Is he going to take you away now?"
Obi-Wan was dumbfounded. "Why would you think that, child?"
Ben drove himself behind Le'orath as though trying to disappear. 'Mommy, make him go. Please. He's going to take Daddy away."
Qui-Gon knelt beside his son, rubbing his back, trying to allay his fears. "Ben, it's all right, it's all right. Obi-Wan is here to visit, nothing more." He shot a sharp questioning glance at Kenobi as though to ask if that were true, but Obi-Wan pointedly avoided the blue eyes, staring at the lovely carpet and Qui-Gon looked again at his son.
Drawing back from his mother's embrace, Ben leapt into his father's arms, crying softly, hiccuping a bit and held on fast, his tiny fists grabbing the long graying hair. Qui-Gon made quiet comforting noises and stood up, still enfolding his son in his arms, gently rocking.
Kenobi was about to say something to ease the child's fears, now flowing palpably through the Force when Atel's frenzied thoughts invaded his own. /*Be wary, Master. Anakin's just ahead of me.*/ And a young man catapulted through the front door, took one look at Obi-Wan and moved to stand over him, posture clearly threatening. Atel was only a second behind him, catching the door on the backswing. She moved in, ready to defend her Master.
The youth glared at Obi-Wan for a moment and then turned to Qui-Gon. His concern was palpable. "Are you okay? Has he hurt you?" Frowning, he glanced at the clinging child. "Why is Ben crying?"
Throwing a quelling glance at Anakin, Jinn's eyes clearly indicated that Skywalker's menacing attitude was inappropriate. "I'm fine. Ben had a little scare but he will be better soon...right Ben?" The child nodded into his father's shoulder, his quiet sighs hitching as he began to calm.
Anakin relaxed a fraction and moved to stand next to Qui-Gon. Unsure of the situation, he settled into ready stance, continuing to scowl at Kenobi. His young face was a shifting map of troubling thoughts; confusion about the sudden appearance of this Jedi Knight, disdain for the apparent coincidence, distrust that, with so many former Jedi dead, Qui-Gon might well be the next target. His glare morphed into an entrenched frown, mouth set and grim. Hovering near his Master, Anakin's entire posture was clearly to guard Qui-Gon Jinn at all costs, with his life if necessary.
Looking at both men standing over him and reading Anakin's glowering presence as one of potential threat, Kenobi realized that he was somewhat trapped by the couch and low table before him. Smiling to relieve the tension, Obi-Wan nodded and stood up, moving discreetly to stand next to his apprentice.
Qui-Gon spoke first. "I believe that introductions are in order." Gesturing towards the Jedi, he nodded. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon's eyes flicked from one to the other, a brief grin lighting his face. "He's my former Padawan, now a Jedi Knight and, by the looks of it, soon to be Master Kenobi."
Qui-Gon placed a large hand on Anakin's shoulder, squeezing slightly. The young man calmed and sent him back a grateful smile. "Anakin is my apprentice."
"Apprentice?!" Obi-Wan was startled by that statement, eyes raking the two. This unexpected news was troubling.
Jinn frowned somewhat, then his face cleared as he looked again at Anakin. "Yes, he is learning the trade."
Atel had stood there quietly as the conversation flowed around her, looking at Anakin, a scowl flitting across her face. His name was familiar, so familiar; she had read it or heard it somewhere recently. And then the memory snapped into place. "You're Anakin Skywalker....the Hero of Naboo?" The young man nodded, flustered. "But that would mean that you were very young at the Battle of Theed."
He glowered at her, exasperated. "I was nine years old. What about it?"
She pressed on, turning toward him. "I read in the histories that you made the shot that brought down the Trade Federation vessel. Impressive shooting for someone so young or... was it luck? "
Skywalker took a step forward, space narrowing between them. "It's none of your damn business, Jedi." His eyes gleamed as he stared at her. "Besides, there's no such thing as luck."
Obi-Wan loudly cleared his throat. "And this brash young woman is my Padawan, Atel Sl'etah." He shot her a quieting, not-now look. "Atel, I don't believe you have met Mistress Le'orath Jinn, Qui-Gon's wife and his son, Ben."
Atel was speechless, her violet eyes widening. */Wife, Master!!! And a son. That was not in the briefing nor in the data they gave us./*
Le'orath rose gracefully and bowed, a mere nod of the head. "Welcome to our home, Padawan." Turning to her husband and gathering Ben gently into her arms, she looked at the tableau. "Qui-Gon, I need to begin the evening meal. I assume that your guests will be staying." At her husband's assent, she turned to the young man. "Anakin, could you help me, please?"
Moving past the Jedi, Obi-Wan's words stopped her for a moment. "I thank you for your generous offer, my lady. We would be glad to accept your hospitality. Atel, please go with them and lend any assistance." The group disappeared into the far doorway, his Padawan trailing behind and sending Obi-Wan an annoyed glare before moving out of his line of sight.
When they were alone once more, Obi-Wan turned to his old mentor. "You have a fine family, Master."
Qui-Gon grinned at that. "Le'orath must like you. She hates to cook and for her to volunteer...I'm astonished."
"Your son, Ben, seems to be an exceptional boy, strong in the Force. How long has he been having these visions?"
Qui-Gon's smile vanished and a stoic, shuttered look came over his face. His voice, too, was neutral, with just a touch of frost. "Visions, I'm sure that you are mistaken." His eyes tightened for just a moment, then said with some bemusement and not a little irony. "Or have you come to take me away?"
Obi-Wan moved close to Qui-Gon and gently grasped his arm. "I have no intention of taking you anywhere, Master. But it's clear that your son has been touched by the Force. How long?"
Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan's hand, resting so comfortably there, memories ghosting of other times and other places long ago. He swallowed hard, looked again into those remembered sea-grey eyes and conceded the point. "He's been having waking dreams for about six months; some come true, some have yet to come to pass, some do not."
"Master, it is clear that he is very Force-sensitive. He needs to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. And he's not too old. I could take him back with me..."
Qui-Gon jerked his arm away from Kenobi. His glacier-blue eyes narrowed as he stood tall, arms folded, immovable. His voice, too, was cold as ice. "No, I forbid it."
"But surely he would be better off at the Temple. We would train him properly."
The voice was colder still, space-cold, eternity-cold. "I said no."
Obi-Wan had heard that tone only once in his life and he had forgotten neither the reason nor the result. He knew that pressing the point would not sway Qui-Gon and, indeed, might further antagonize him. But duty was duty. And he was sworn to find and bring back any children worthy of the Order, should the parents agree.
"Master, please listen. We need your son, desperately." Qui-Gon stiffened at the words. "You don't know what is going on at the Temple. Parents are refusing to give their children to the Jedi. We are told that the Order is no longer trustworthy." Obi-Wan shook his head in disbelief. "The number of young ones coming into the creche has dwindled to almost nothing. Only orphans or unwanted babies, no one else. In the last year, there have been only nine given to the Jedi, not even enough for a single Clan. The Council does not know what to do."
Obi-Wan grasped his Master's arm again, warmth and strength seeping through his hands, trying to break the frost, to persuade Qui-Gon to see the critical imperative of allowing his son to go to the Jedi. But the sharp icy stare forced the Knight to let go, his hands falling to his side, hope leaching away. One final try. "At this rate, the Jedi will be extinct within a generation. Your son would do much to alleviate this, especially coming from a family of one so sorely mistreated. He would be an example of the trust you have in the Jedi. An example that others might follow."
"Trust?! I will not send my son to be trained and then discarded as so much trash. No!!"
Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan gentled his voice. "So be it. I had to try." He leaned in close, almost whispering. "A warning, then, from a former Padawan to his old much-esteemed Master." Startled, Qui-Gon bent down to catch the words.
"The Senate is making noises about collecting data on all Force-sensitive children. From the lowest to the highest ranks of society. For their own government records, they say, not just for the Jedi's use. It doesn't make sense really since we are the only ones that would use that information. But vicious rumors are flying that the Republic government may mandate that the children be taken without consent, made wards of the state and given over to the Order. I don't agree with this course - it would be disastrous for the Jedi and for the families. It may just be rumors. They may want the information for other reasons, but I thought you should know. Qui-Gon...guard your son well."
As dinner began, conversation seemed awkward, full of strange silences. It was clear to Obi-Wan that his Master was still upset about his comments and yet he did not want to end this night with enmity. He had hoped for one night, pure, with fond remembrances and a Padawan's love for his Master. Just one night. Tomorrow would be soon enough for investigation and sullied duty.
Conversation ebbed and flowed around the passing of food and the small talk of child and parent, host and guests. Le'orath was a better cook than Qui-Gon has intimated and the smells and tastes of the many dishes were wonderful. To the Jedi, used to simple, cheap meals, it was almost a banquet.
But, to one individual, it was not a banquet. Young Ben, now secure within the warmth of his family, and, above all, bored with the adult conversation, had begun to display a four-year old's exuberance and skill at deception. Staring at the sweets just beyond his reach, the child waggled his fingers ever so slightly, his blue eyes intense, a sly smile on his face. One small brightly-colored treat began a stealthy slow dance across the table towards the boy. Obi-Wan, spying the movement and amused at the thought, lent his talent to the task and a second sweet trailed the first. When Ben looked around to see who was helping him, he was surprised to see the strange Jedi Kenobi smiling. The boy was startled at first but, when Obi-Wan winked at him, a small grin lit his young face and he giggled.
His father, suddenly aware of the scene, said sharply, "Ben, no."
Eyes abruptly huge, the boy's smile disappeared and he bent his head, unsure of what he had done wrong. Softening his voice, Qui-Gon gestured towards a small pile of blocks and other toys in the far corner of the room. "Ben, it's all right but you must be bored with all this grown-up talk. Why don't you go enjoy your games?" The child nodded and moved away, looked at the adults for a moment and then settled down to play.
"I see that Ben has many talents." Kenobi's voice was tinged with amusement and his eyes were dancing.
Qui-Gon would have none of it. "Yes, he has. I meant what I said, Obi-Wan. You will get nothing of his talents."
Kenobi nodded, unhappy that this simple act of play had caused a further rift in their relationship. "Be at ease, Master. I was merely helping Ben with his...logistical problem." With a sharp look, Qui-Gon returned to his meal and uneasy silence descended on the group.
The food lay leaden in Obi-Wan's gut, acid etching his troubled thoughts. **Damn, this may be your last chance, you blasted fool. Try and fix this, Kenobi, before it's too late.**
He sent Jinn a tentative smile. "Master, I often thought of you, hoping that you were well and happy. It is obvious that you have come far. Home, family, a good life. I'm glad." Qui-Gon recognized what Obi-Wan was trying to do, wishing to repair the damage of their bitter argument. He, too, wanted to make amends and so he returned the smile and nodded.
"It was not an easy path. In fact, at first, it was very difficult. I did not want to impose on friends, afraid that some of the shame of dismissal would fall on them. I tried several occupations, none of which paid well and sometimes I was discharged without reason. Others would not hire me at all, obviously suspicious of a former Jedi. Who can really blame them? Such a Jedi must surely be rogue or tainted in some way."
"How could they think such a thing?"
Qui-Gon shrugged. "Dismissal from the Temple had always been for crimes or behavior unbecoming a Jedi, never for money reasons. They had no way of knowing." He sighed slightly. "Finally, with my funds dwindling fast, I bowed to the inevitable and asked for help. Luckily, the entourage from Naboo needed someone familiar with Coruscant and security to run checks on locations and personnel at the capital. Captain Panaka was acquainted with my work and hired me. He did me a great service, Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon smiled briefly, warmed by the memories. "They must have been pleased with my efforts because I was invited to join their security forces back on Naboo. I accepted with pleasure. Of course, no sooner had I arrived, then the Trade Federation invaded the planet. It was pretty rough for a while but, in my own small way, I was able to help the resistance and Queen Amidala. When the Queen escaped, I was among her guards. We had a few bumps on the road to Coruscant but finally made it all in one piece." He looked over at Anakin, grinning. "Along the twisted Force-driven path, I met with this young scamp. And, together, we were able to help free Naboo."
"The Force was with you."
"It must have been. For my contribution, the Naboo people gifted me with some money. I was able to scrap together enough to buy this small farm."
"It's beautiful here. A fine place."
Qui-Gon chuckled at that. "Not when I bought it. It was tumbling down, the field fallow, the equipment old and in disrepair. I had no idea what I was doing. How could I? Diplomacy and lightsaber duels do not help crops grow." He smiled again. "I almost lost everything that first year. But then..." His hand closed over that of Le'orath, eyes glowing with pride and affection. "I met this lovely woman. Le' is a landscape architect and an amazingly good one at that. She helped me with the rough spots. The next year, the profits were so great that I was able to finish the house and outbuildings. And then I asked her to marry me."
Le'orath smiled at that, squeezing his hand lightly. The tenderness leached away as she looked across the table at Obi-Wan, her eyes narrowing. "We were married at Midwinter Festival. I knew the moment I met Qui-Gon that I wanted to be with him always. How could I not? He was so gentle and yet, there was a sorrow about him that I wanted to soothe. I didn't know, then, that the Jedi had tossed him aside."
She glanced at Atel and then back at Obi-Wan, her eyes frosty, lighting to summer warmth when she looked again at Qui-Gon. "We have built a good life here, Knight Kenobi. One, I hope, will last a long time."
"That is my hope as well, my lady."
Atel spoke up, probing for information. "You have accomplished quite a bit in such a short time, Master Jinn. Are crops all you raise?"
Anakin glared at her but said nothing. Qui-Gon glanced first at his apprentice, then at Atel, a sharp measuring look. His voice was neutral. "Actually, no. Here, I raise exotic biologicals; they have quite a high return on the money invested. But I have interests in several companies as well. It is best to diversify in this time of unrest. I have learned to adapt to the changing economic climate and now am part owner in mining, medical supplies, biotechnology, and transportation consortiums. A Jedi does not have to think about where their next meal is coming from. But I do."
"You'd be surprised at what a Jedi has to think about these days, Master." Obi-Wan's sardonic irony was not lost on his Padawan. She suppressed a brief snort.
Qui-Gon nodded slowly, a sad smile on his leonine face. "I often think about the Temple and our time together, Obi-Wan. It was exhausting but very worthwhile, helping to maintain peace and justice in the Republic. But since I left, rumors have grown that all is not well within the Order. Some pretty alarming tales have reached even the wilds of Naboo."
Obi-Wan's apprentice stared at him, resolute. /*Don't tell him anything, Master. Please don't.*/ But Kenobi ignored her warnings. He wanted, he needed to make this connection.
"Things have not been as they should. After you left, most of the Council were dismissed, Master Windu, Master Gallia and several others. When Master Yoda returned from his mission the following week, the Senate evoked some obscure statute and forced him to retire."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "The first wave of dismissals was disheartening to more than just those immediately affected, of course. Trust had been broken and the despair of it seemed to permeate the very air of the Temple for several months. But, as the shock of such a move faded, life seemed to return to normal."
"And then..?" Qui-Gon gently probed.
"The Senate tightened their grip yet again. Citing increased pressure to curb costs and disappointment in the resistant attitude of the Jedi to the Republic's wishes, there was a second round of dismissals and then a third. It seemed to almost spiral out of control. The few donations that the Order had been receiving dried up and it became entirely dependent on the good graces of the Senate. And they were not in the mood to be gracious."
The Jedi Knight pressed his hand against his eyes for a moment and looked into the sad face of his old Master. "The competition for goods and services within the Order became fierce. Cooperation is a fine thing when there is plenty but, as the stranglehold tightened, everyone began to look for ways to strengthen their own positions. And still Jedi were turned out of the Temple. Fault-finding, hoarding, rigidity of thought were encouraged by such actions. The halls are monitored, behavior codified and more dismissals are coming." Obi-Wan gave an unhappy cough. "Now, it is even difficult to replace a cloak."
Anakin glanced at Qui-Gon and nodded. "Oh, so that is why you were wearing such shabby clothes. I thought you just didn't have time to change before coming here."
Kenobi shot him a measuring look. "Quite correct, Anakin. Shabby is an apt description."
"And now?" asked Qui-Gon, softly, prompting.
"Now, they have turned most of the mediation chambers and gymnasiums into food production. There have been eight.. no, nine waves of terminations and still there are rumors of more to come. Yet, we are expected to have successful missions with no complaints or errors. Too much to do and not nearly enough Jedi or resources to cope."
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan."
Kenobi just shrugged again. "Qui-Gon, thank you. I know... But I am a Jedi and must do my duty. I can do no less."
Skywalker studied the Knight, frowning. "So, that's it then. You're just going to keep coming back for more, even though they treat you like dirt."
"I will do what I must, Anakin."
The young man looked at Obi-Wan with bewilderment. "Can't you fight them? Turn things around?"
"How? The Senate has control of the money and the Jedi are sworn to uphold the laws and government of the Republic."
"Walk away from it, then."
"I cannot do that. I would be forsworn."
Anakin snorted at that. "Duty to a group that discards its own like week-old trash? You are a fool."
Qui-Gon's reply was brief and to the point. "Anakin, this is not the way you treat guests." The soft, "No, Master" was barely whispered; a fleeting glimpse of shame crossed the young man's face.
"Obi-Wan, this is sad news indeed but not unexpected. We may be far from Coruscant but news of the Jedi travels fast, even in hyperspace." Jinn sighed and laid his hand on Kenobi's arm. "You are always welcome here."
Le'orath moved slightly, as though to protest, but said nothing. She looked at Anakin and shrugged. "Knight Kenobi, you spoke of dismissals. You must have lost a number of friends over the years. Have you kept in touch with any of them?"
That question brought a sharp, embarrassed look from Qui-Gon. "Le', you promised not to do this."
"I promised not to ask Kenobi about why he hasn't bothered to contact you in the last ten years. I'm merely inquiring about his friends."
Jinn moved to speak sharply to his wife but Obi-Wan gestured for attention. "Mistress Jinn is quite correct to ask. Master, you deserve an answer." Atel shot him a disbelieving look /*Master, Listen to me, please. Don't tell him anything. He is under investigation. Don't...*/but again he ignored her warning.
"We are forbidden from contacting anyone dismissed from the Order, for whatever reason. Ignoring that directive entails...various types of punishment, depending on the level of defiance."
Le'orath wanted the truth for Qui-Gon's sake. She pressed the point. "And you were afraid of a little punishment, a slap on the wrist, is that it, Kenobi? Couldn't break the rules even for Qui-Gon's sake, right?"
Obi-Wan sat there, quiet, still, unable to move or think for a moment. Avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze, he looked at Le'orath and murmured, "Excuse me." And then, abruptly, he stood and strode out the door. Glaring at the trio, Atel rose and hurried to follow her Master.
Qui-Gon's angry "How could you?" was met with a brief shrug. She knew he needed the answer, had needed it for years, but would not ask. A wound must be cut and cleaned before it could heal. He knew that but her husband could be woefully stubborn. So she had done the cutting.
Atel found Obi-Wan standing on the porch, gazing out at the moon rising over the mountains, his hands busy shredding a white trumpet flower. He said nothing for a time, trying to find his center, hoping to calm his raging guilt. Finally, he told Atel to bring the landspeeder around to the front. They would be leaving momentarily. When she scampered down the steps and around the corner of the house, the sounds of the night began to fill the silent spaces.
The scraping of a boot heel, the slight whine of the front door opening and the glow of a Force signature alerted the Jedi to another presence. Qui-Gon moved quietly to stand next to his former apprentice, glancing down to see a growing mound of torn blossoms at Obi-Wan's feet.
"Obi-Wan, I must apologize for Le'orath's remarks. She had no right to..." Jinn was quickly interrupted.
"No, Master, she was correct. You deserve to know the truth. It's just...hard to explain." Kenobi shrugged and seemed to shrink into himself, chilled by the memories. His hand opened and a shredded flower floated down, stained white and black as it moved from light to shadow to light again. Without thinking, he reached for another and began to slowly pull it apart.
"I'm sorry, Master. I'm a coward...such a coward." Obi-Wan's whispers were almost imperceptible but sharp with pain. "I tried, truly I did. Pulled every string I could to find out where you were. With no success. Then I got caught. Defied them as only you could, Master." An anguished grimace flitted over his face and then he looked down, unable to bear Qui-Gon's questions. "Defied them at first and then I got sneaky. But it didn't matter. They found out anyway and each time it happened, the....punishments got worse." He stopped to breathe, gasping for air as though some great weight was pressing down, down on him. He closed his eyes and tried to center, before the memories crowded out what he needed to say.
"Finally, I couldn't...couldn't face it again. I stopped looking. I'm sorry." He closed his eyes for a moment, grimacing with remembered anguish. The blossom in his hand, torn to unrecognizable pulp, floated down, light and dark, to join the others. He started to reach for the trumpet flower near his face when Qui-Gon grabbed Kenobi's shoulders with his own large hands and shook the Jedi gently.
"Obi-Wan, you were never a coward. Never." Jinn's eyes were warm with certainty.
Kenobi just shook his head, not meeting his Master's eyes. "I should have been stronger but I couldn't fight the fear in that damnable cell any more."
"What cell?" Qui-Gon stepped back, hands dropping to his side.The wintery tone in his voice was cold, sharp, almost angry. Obi-Wan flinched at the sound.
"The cells at the Temple's base." Kenobi was confused; surely his former Master knew about them.
"Yes, there are force-suppressed cells there for criminals, to inhibit escape. The worst that they face is loss of any connection with the Force - it is painful at first, but the strong-willed eventually get used to it. And you are very strong-willed." Qui-Gon probed insistantly. "Was there a particular cell that they put you in?"
Obi-Wan shuddered. "It was always cell AA23."
Qui-Gon's retort was quick and expressive. "Those damnable, bloody bastards. They promised me they would dismantle it. They promised."
"Master, you know of it?"
Jinn looked down at the mound of crushed blossoms. "I helped to test it. Gods, Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry."
Kenobi jerked his eyes up to meet Qui-Gon's own, anger growing out of the guilt and confusion. "Tested it? Helped them? How could you agree to such a thing? It's an obscenity, a twisted misuse of the Force. How could you?"
"I had no idea that they were using it in such a way. Obi-Wan, the Jedi did not invent it." Jinn's voice was gentle but Kenobi just shook his head. "Listen, please. One of the Knights in the Outer Rim stumbled across it in an investigation. As far as we know, there is only one, although it appeared that more were to be manufactured. They were going to use it as a weapon against the Jedi since it only works with force-sensitives.'' Qui-Gon moved closer. "The device is able to probe deep into the psyche to find the one thing the victim most fears and multiplies it. It is extremely effective."
"I know that." Kenobi growled.
"I agreed to help with the testing to see if there was any defense against it. At the time, the Jedi Council was afraid that more would be coming on the market and we needed to counteract its effects. I was put in the cell for up to two hours at a time, hoping that I could find a way to get around the device. They said my tendency towards stubbornness should serve me well." Qui-Gon shivered at the thought. "It did not. We were never able to find a way around it. When the testing ended, I was promised, most solemnly, that the device would be destroyed. It seems that they lied."
"So it seems." Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, pain beginning to flash behind the temples. He needed time to reflect on this, time to come to some understanding and deal with the lingering guilt and anger.
"Obi-Wan, come back in. Perhaps, we can start again. I've missed you very much, my old Padawan." Qui-Gon gripped his shoulder again, squeezing slightly. "I know that my family and I haven't made you very welcome but I want another chance."
But Kenobi shook his head and Qui-Gon stepped back, unsure of how to proceed. "I need to meditate on this, Master. And my mission begins tomorrow. I will be quite busy for some time." Qui-Gon looked at him, solemn and unhappy but nodded, accepting the Jedi's decision. "I promise that I will see you, at least once, before I leave and we can talk further. Perhaps, the Force has brought us together again for a reason, one that is not apparent in the moment. We will have to see."
The whine of the landspeeder brought them to silence as Atel drove up. She got out and stood, patiently waiting by the porch steps.
"Please make my apologies to your wife and Ben. Anakin as well. I'm sorry, Master."
Qui-Gon nodded and suddenly moved to give Obi-Wan an enveloping hug, whispering. "Never forget that you are the son of my heart, Obi-Wan. Always." He released him and stood back. "May the Force be with you."
Obi-Wan blinked back sudden tears. "And you are my much-loved Master. I will not forget." Turning to go, he replied. "And may the Force be with you, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon Jinn watched as the speeder roared away and then the night settled into a peaceful calm, the lacywings humming quietly among the blossoms. The young shadow, waiting patiently by his side, moved closer. "Did he tell you about his mission?"
"Anakin, Jedi do not discuss missions with just anyone. It is unwise to do so and against the regulations as well. And no, he did not tell me."
"Do you think he is investigating the disappearance of all those dismissed Jedi? Does he know who killed them? Or is he the killer?"
Qui-Gon smiled briefly but the warmth did not reach his eyes. "So many questions, my young apprentice. No, contrary to your feelings about him, he is not the one killing the ex-Jedi. He could not, not my old Padawan. And he is not investigating the losses either or else he would have asked me about them. No, he's likely here to check up on me and our operations here."
"Master, are you sure?" A swift, unhappy nod. "What now?"
"Anakin, it will take him a while to settle into his lodgings and then he will begin inquiries tonight. We have about an hour. Let's make the most of it. Go into town and alert our friends that a potential enemy is among us."
"Is he our enemy?" The voice was taut with some darker emotion, jealousy perhaps or an eagerness to begin the chase.
"Damn, I hope not." Jinn closed his eyes for a moment, frowning, pain scrawling across his face. He shook himself free of it and turned toward his apprentice. "Have everyone treat him with the respect due a Jedi but tell him nothing."
"And if he finds out what is going on?"
The tall man shrugged helplessly. "It will be as the Force wills."
"Master, I'm sorry... about everything. It must be hard to see him again, like this." The young one stood with head bowed, penitent.
"Yes, it is. He is the son of my heart...as are you, young one." Qui-Gon put his arm around Anakin's shoulders for a swift, sharp hug and then let him go. "We are wasting time. Get going, now."
"Is he gone?" Mace Windu asked quietly from the shadowed corner.
"Yes, he's gone for now. And, before you ask, yes, I think he does suspect that there is something more going on here than growing crops." Qui-Gon frowned darkly, his voice low, almost angry. "They deliberately chose him. To torment me or to punish him. Maybe both." Staring out into the night, he admitted. "It hurt to see him and not tell him the truth. I...I've missed him."
"I'm sorry, my friend." Mace put his hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder for a second, squeezing lightly, wordless comfort in the light of the struggles to come, and stepped back. Jinn shrugged, resigned.
"No matter. I will deal with it as I must. Now, to business. I had hoped for more time to strengthen our position before discovery. Better start moving the equipment and personnel out. But not too much. He's not stupid, quite the reverse. We will have to hide what we can, obscure the training centers, if possible. He knows of my salle. Let's make sure he doesn't find any others."
"And, if he does?" The murmur of disquiet wafted through the cool night air.
"They are looking for a scapegoat. If necessary, they will have one."
"And you're it..."
"Mace, we knew this was a possibility when we started. Yes, he may not know it yet but he's come for me." Qui-Gon turned and placed a hand on Windu's arm, holding him still for a moment, his voice thready with concern. "Promise that you will look after my family. And Anakin. He's very headstrong and may protest this course."
"I will. But aren't you forgetting that the future is always in motion?"
Jinn snorted at that. "I forget nothing." He turned and looked back to where the speeder had disappeared. "Damn that Council for bringing him into this. They are playing us for fools again, Mace, but I am no longer a fool."
The silence in the landspeeder was absolute. The uneasy quiet between Master and apprentice had grown as their vehicle arrowed toward the soft haze of the distant spaceport. It deepened even as the night's second moon rose over the dappled hills and painted the far, jagged-toothed mountains in a pearlescent light. The breathtaking scene, a doubled-vision of black and white, did not relieve the tense stillness within.
Atel's face was its own landscape, sketched in lines of moonsglow and black and green, the instrument panel's reflected light patterning across her brow. Eyes hooded, mouth hard, her stress-cramped hands were stark with ivory outrage as she drove towards the port. Unaware of her turmoil and battling his own behind duracrete shields, Obi-Wan sat beside her, his figure outlined in chalk and charcoal, staring pensively and still into the vastness of space.
Finally, he moved to ease his wearied shoulders and glanced at his silent apprentice. What he saw there worried him. Obi-Wan had needed this time for reflection, to try and unknot the twisted threads of conversation and nuance, to determine what had happened and what must happen next. He had thought that Atel was merely respecting his wish for quiet but it was now apparent that more was going on, her unease pulsing through the Force. He leaned forward, touching her arm, acknowledging that he was ready to listen to her concerns but she sharply shrugged him off.
"Padawan?" Her piercing glance warned him to tread very lightly. He was weary from the constant barrage of guilt and turmoil that had blackened his day thus far but he knew this was important to her. "What is wrong?"
"I need to meditate first, Master, before I can speak clearly on this issue." Her tone was flat, almost angry.
"On what issue? If this pertains to the mission, I need to know before we reach the port."
She growled. "Permission to speak frankly, Master?"
Ah, this was serious. "Yes, Atel, say what you must."
The apprentice pulled sharply on the speeder stick. The stuttering white-noise of the repulsor fields indicated that they were no longer on the road and safely out of the way of passing vehicles. As she powered down the speeder, the engine's whine was replaced by the rustling of leaves and echo of night creatures in the nearby wood.
For a moment, the stillness remained and then the Padawan exploded with outrage. "What were you thinking back there? Endangering the mission like that?"
"What?" Taken aback, his voice rose in bewilderment.
"Telling Jinn about the Temple. It's a clear violation of the Standards for Jedi Behavior."
"That's Master Jinn to you."
"No. Not Master Jinn." She looked at him, hard frown deepening, voice steely and quick. "No, not to me and definitely not to you. Master Jinn was ten years ago. This man is Jinn who is under investigation, Jinn who is a potential enemy, Jinn who may be a rogue."
"Atel, enough."
"No, Master, it's not enough." Her voice hardened further. "What is going on? I've never seen you like this. You have never gone against the rules of the Temple while on a mission before. Ever. Even when you thought that they were wrong, you have always obeyed the Council and the Code. Why now? What makes this mission so different that you would throw away everything for that man?"
"I haven't thrown away anything."
Atel looked at him, unbelieving, unable to understand why her Master did not comprehend the potential for disaster here.
"Master Obi-Wan, please listen to me. The Standards are very clear, uncompromisingly clear on what can and cannot be said outside the Temple. You told Jinn about the Jedi's relationship with the Senate, about the codified behavior, about the monitoring, all things that are not his concern. And he is under investigation. The Council might think that you are consorting with the suspect, an accessory. You should not have told him anything."
She shook her head and then stared at him, directly, pointedly, to make him realize somehow what he had done. "Master, you have put me in a very difficult position."
"What? Why?"
"The Standards state that a Jedi, be they Master, Knight or Padawan, must inform the Council as soon as they are aware that a violation has taken place. If I don't report you and they find out, I could be punished or dismissed, depending on the level of offense. With or without your consent. If I do report you, you will be dismissed or worse." She shook her head sharply, voice catching in a suppressed sob. "What am I going to do?"
"Padawan, calm yourself. I know that I may have overstepped the letter of the Standards but, potential threat or not, Qui-Gon deserved to know what was and is happening at the Temple. It is my responsibility and mine alone. I will make sure that all my actions will be included in the mission report."
Her violet eyes flashed green in the reflected light as she blinked back unwanted tears. "But, Master, is that enough? The rules demand that the offense is to be reported immediately."
"Are you sure? I don't recall anything about that in the Standards. I read them very carefully when they were issued at the beginning of the year."
"Yes, I am sure. They revised the rules just as we returned from Septumus Five. The mandated class was held..." Her breath drew in sharply. "...while you were in the Healer's wing."
"Padawan, it was my error, not yours. Ill or not, I should have made sure that I was current with any change in Temple directives." Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to ease the headache just beginning to build there. "Atel, I am not sorry that I told Master Qui-Gon what I did and I would not have changed anything had I known about the revisions. I am sorry that you are caught in the middle. It was certainly not my intention." He sighed again. "I've been less than mindful lately. The missions have been exhausting. Still, it is no excuse."
Atel repeated. "What am I going to do?"
"Before any decision, you must calm your mind, Padawan. Worry, fear and doubt will only cloud your thoughts and lead you astray."
"Yes, Master."
"Much as I might wish to, I cannot dictate your course in this matter. You must do what you feel is right." He shrugged dejectedly and turned his face towards the spaceport. "We are almost there. When we reach our lodgings, I want you to go to the room and meditate on this. You will need some time alone to deal with the issues at hand. I will scout out the area. When I will return, we will discuss this further." Unhappy, she nodded and turned away, unable to meet his eyes.
"Atel, it will be all right. I trust your judgment." He squeezed her shoulder slightly, hoping to soothe her troubled mind. "You might do me a favor and see if you can pull out the revised Standards on your datapad. I will need to review them tonight so that there will be no further problems." His voice softened. "Padawan, it will be all right. You'll see."
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Now, let's get going."
The spaceport was a small town, a village really. There was one road straight through the center with a series of side streets leading off towards the outlying farms. There was little traffic around the port; in the high season of summer, it would be bustling but now the harvests were in and the pleasure-seekers of Naboo's mountain and lake districts had gone home.
The hostelry was cheap and cramped, a small place tilting precariously towards the street. It was too near the spaceport for quiet and the walls were paperthin. But it was clean and friendly to the Jedi, an increasingly important point, and Obi-Wan had no complaints. He dropped Atel off at the front entrance, parked the speeder and then set off on foot towards the sound of nightly amusements.
Kenobi knew that tomorrow he would visit the officials of the community but, tonight, cantinas were his goal. Rumors, stories and hostility towards Qui-Gon Jinn might just show up in those seedy establishments. Resentment towards a successful farmer, even one as generous as his former Master, could lead to valuable information gleaned nowhere else. He picked a likely place, the Screaming Mynock. It was hard to tell at night, even with the twinned light of the Naboo moons peering over his shoulder, but the tavern did seem a bit rundown - perfect for his first foray.
The noise assaulted his senses as soon as he entered the place. For a moment, he seemed frozen in the light at the entrance, an obvious ploy to blind newcomers to the darkened space while letting the denizens within look them over. He moved down the steps towards the bar counter. The place quieted a bit and more than one being glanced in his direction. As he sat down, snatches of conversation could be heard.
"Who's that? .... dressed like a beggar .... a Jedi here? .... why .... do the Bendu know he's .... two-to-one odds on him .... Windu won't like .... I'm leaving now .... what's a Jedi Knight doing .... training centers .... does Jinn .... Jedi .... death .... wearing a lightsaber .... Jedi ....watch .... mind tricks .... say nothing."
The bartender, an overweight, rather grubby human of some stature, growled at him, "What's your pleasure, Jedi?" and then began to chuckle as if making a very obvious crude joke.
Obi-Wan looked at him directly, and said distinctly, "Blue Corellian and information."
The man sniffed at this. "Sure you can handle it? Corellian ale packs a mean wallop." At Kenobi's continued stare, he just shrugged, poured glowing blue liquid into a semi-cleaned glass and shoved it in the Jedi's direction.
"Two credits for the drink. Information may be free or cost a great deal, depending."
"I'm looking for someone. Been at the port a long time?" Kenobi placed the credits down on the counter and began to sip his ale, all the while glancing around the room. The crowd of humans and aliens seemed to quiet slightly while trying to avoid the Jedi's attention. It fooled no one.
"Yeah, so what?"
"Notice anyone lately who has had a very good run of luck? Maybe too good. Someone who may have become rich a little too quickly?"
Glancing towards the rear of the cantina where noises of sabaac play indicated that gambling might just be taking place, the man shrugged. "Sometimes, people get lucky. 'Course, then they take one extra spin of the radomizer and lose everything. Gambling is a matter of luck and a bit of skill. What's it to you, Jedi or is wagering illegal in the Republic these days?"
"Not as far as I know. No, I'm more interested in someone who may have moved here over the past ten years or so and gotten lucky with business ventures. Picking just the right time to buy or sell and making a huge profit. That type of luck."
"Can you be more specific? That describes a lot of someones." The human rubbed his neck as though thinking, surreptitiously nodding to a tall figure, lurking in the shadows near the rear entrance, just out of Kenobi's sight.
"Some beings are pretty adept at making deals, using their skills as negotiators to get others to agree to things that they might not ordinarily do. Or have great timing to take advantage of situations that come up quickly. Maybe even using mind tricks or wizardry to get their way. Anyone complained about that recently? "
"No, Jedi. Why don't you stop dancing around and get to the point? I have other customers."
"That farmer towards the west of town, Qui-Gon Jinn, seems to have made quite a name for himself. Owns a number of businesses and yet he started with nothing. He's quite lucky."
The man abruptly frowned, eyes narrowing, and leaned forward, staring at Kenobi. The tavern quieted suddenly. "Look, Jedi snoop. Here's a bit of free information. Leave Jinn and his friends alone."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. He's done more for this town and this world than any dozen Jedi conjurers. Was there during the Blockade, been helping out ever since. Didn't see any of your kind helping us out, then or now. You Jedi were too busy fetching and carrying for the rich and famous to pay any attention to a poor world in trouble. So, leave him alone. Leave them alone and go bother someone else." The bartender straightened up and glared at Obi-Wan. "I'm sure there's a war somewhere that you can go play in. So go play....elsewhere." With that, he turned his back on the Jedi and walked away.
The whispers and glances told Obi-Wan that he would get no help here. He noted, too, that the tall shadow was gone, probably to spread word that a Jedi was investigating Jinn. Shrugging, he left his drink at the counter and strode out of the cantina. Still, the information had been more helpful than the barkeeper had intended. It confirmed the datapad information; Master Jinn had help, allies. The man had lumped them together, indicating that either there were more than a couple of force-sensitives in the area or that his friends were willing to help Qui-Gon deal with any Jedi investigation. But, more importantly, Obi-Wan realized that, if he had to take his Master back to Coruscant, it might be quite difficult to do so, more so than from the expected resistance of a single Jedi. That uncomfortable and unwelcome thought stayed with him as he began to hunt for the next likely spot to ask questions.
Over the next few hours, Obi-Wan had widened his search to five additional taverns ranging in status from elegant to downright dangerous, three restaurants and a couple of clubs. In each, he had been treated politely but firmly. Told in no uncertain terms to leave Jinn alone by all and sundry, Kenobi was growing oddly indignant by absurdity of it all. It was just so blasted ironic because he did want to leave Jinn alone. But he couldn't, not yet.
He had gleaned quite a bit of information. It was definite that there were other force-sensitives in the area, more than just at the Jinn residence; certain whispers and veiled threats confirmed his earlier suspicions. It was clear that Qui-Gon was quite generous with his time, his abilities and his money in aiding the less fortunate. That came as no surprise; Obi-Wan had always known his Master to help when he could, when the Jedi had been allowed to help.
It also appeared that the rumors of the investigation had run like wildfire through the community. By the time he had entered the last establishment, he didn't even have to say anything. The owner had gone to him immediately and began berating him before telling him to get out. Still, he was satisfied with the evening's work. Rumors could be very helpful. They would alert the more shady beings that Obi-Wan was here gathering information; some of those individuals might want to meet in less conspicuous surroundings. Kenobi would likely be approached fairly soon, probably tomorrow or the day after.
And now, by the Screaming Mynock, he waited for his tall shadow to appear. It didn't take long.
"Hello, Anakin."
The young man bowed his head slightly, a frown settling on his troubled face. Voice clipped and anxious, he acknowledged that the chase was over. "Kenobi. Been waiting long?"
"No. Well, have you alerted the whole town or should I let you get a little further ahead?" Obi-Wan let a wry smile loose for just a moment before the stoic Jedi visage returned.
Anakin tired of the game quickly. "Why are you asking questions about Master Qui-Gon? I thought you were his friend."
"I am. Believe me, Anakin, I am."
"But you are asking about his powers, about his money and how he got it. It sounds more like he is being accused of crimes against the Republic, or maybe against the Jedi and their little kingdom. Is that what a friend does?"
"I am a Jedi, required by the Council to investigate certain allegations...."
Skywalker interrupted him, his voice fierce and low. "Trumped up charges. Your blasted Council cannot control him so they are going to shut him up." He moved forward, growling. "You're going to take him back with you, aren't you? Imprison him because he is no longer one of yours."
"I hope not." Sadness, regret seeped into those three words and Obi-Wan was suddenly very tired. He had meant to keep Anakin talking for duty's sake but now he just wanted to get away, needing to meditate desperately, to see his way clear of this dilemma.
"Then don't. Please, just leave him alone. Please." The young man sounded urgent, almost pleading.
"I wish I could." The sound of Obi-Wan's regret grew deeper. He sighed and moved close to the young apprentice, murmuring quietly, rapidly. "But, maybe, if you could help me, Anakin. Help me to prove that he is innocent, that he had done nothing wrong... I would soon be on my way and Qui-Gon could be left in peace. It's what we both want, for Qui-Gon to be happy and well. Help me make that a reality."
Anakin instantly drew back from him, his eyes wide and staring, astonished, looking at Obi-Wan as if he were a ravening nexu or venomous adder. Mouth grimacing, he hissed back. "Stay away from me, Jedi. You are unbelievable." His voice rose in fury. "You expect me to betray my Master!! You obscene fraud." He looked as if he was going to throttle the Jedi, then he abruptly turned and stalked away, muttering.
"No, Anakin, that's not what I...." Obi-Wan called after him, sorrow thickening his throat. "...meant."
He slumped back against the wall, shaking his head, muttering. "Kenobi, you are an idiot. A muck-brained inept idiot." Pulling himself up and slowly walking back towards his meager lodgings, he thought again of this last conversation. He had been a negotiator and Republic representative for ten years now, more if the Padawan experiences were tallied in. When, in the last few minutes, had he completely lost all sense of reason, of tact? He was a complete fool. Even when people were trying to blast him out of existence, he had kept a clear head, could parley his way out of war and disputes of all kinds. Except this. This one had him stumped. Now, Anakin wrongly thought that betrayal was his goal and he would certainly tell Qui-Gon. Damn. His old Master would think....damn.
It was a very weary Obi-Wan that made his way back to their rooms. He hesitated outside his door, realizing that there was still the matter of Atel's dilemma to be handled. Sighing, he closed his eyes briefly, centering himself and made his way in. His Padawan was not waiting for him inside. Looking to see if she was still meditating in the adjoining room, he peered in. Atel was quietly snoring, sprawled as always across her bed. As much as he should have awakened her and cleared the air, he could not. He had had enough emotional entanglement this day to last him a lifetime.
He closed the door quietly. Tossing his cloak onto the single chair, he made his way back to his bed, and sank down thankfully. Moving to pull his boots off, he stopped a moment, hunching down, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes, trying to wipe away the roiling emotions that had stained his day in charcoal and ebony. They kept clouding his thoughts, buzzing like quarrel gnats, distracting him. Meditation called him, beckoned him to find his calm center but he had one more task to do before he could relax into that quiet.
As promised, Atel had left her datapad on his pillow. After changing into sleep pants, Obi-Wan leaned back and began to read. The revisions in the Standards in Jedi Behavior were extensive; some items were merely wording changes with subtle distinctions but others had been totally obliterated, remolded to mean something entirely different. By the time he had scrolled to the section on mission directives and perused the files, he was fuming and indignant.
His Padawan had been quite correct. She was expected to divulge his error to the Council or their staff, as soon as he had made it. But it was more than that. The Standards had changed to such an extent that any slight error in judgment, deliberate or accidentally, was met with harsh discipline, punishment far more severe than the error would merit.
Obi-Wan leaned his head against the thin wall, frowning. When had the Order become so twisted? Compassion and justice were the pillars on which the Jedi Order was founded. Now, it seemed that the members of the Temple were compelled to turn on their fellow Jedi at the first sign of trouble. No, it was more than that. It was treachery that was expected, pure and simple. The Council wanted to foster a system where betrayal of trust was anticipated, condoned and for...what? Expediency, control? He wasn't sure but he didn't like it. Not at all.
The door creaked opened and a very sleep-ridden Atel peered into the tiny room. "Master, is there something wrong? I felt that you were upset."
"It's been a trying day. I'm in sore need of meditation and I need to think about a few things first. I'm sorry that I woke you." He gestured for her to sit but instead, she walked over and knelt before him.
"That's okay." She bowed her head, looking away shyly. "I waited as long as I could."
"Padawan, it is late and I understand the need for sleep." He tried to make his voice light, to give her space to say what she must. "Have you decided what to do?"
"Yes, Master. I have." Atel hesitated, head bent, eyes searching the floor for calm. "I am still upset about your decisions regarding Master Jinn. However, I cannot destroy your life over this. It doesn't feel right." She looked up, unsure, but then she seemed to gather courage and said immovably. "But, I must warn you, Master Obi-Wan. I cannot continue to ignore any further infractions. I must obey the Code and the Standards. I'm sorry." Her eyes pleaded for understanding.
"Atel, you must do what you think is right. I must do that as well. Let's hope that the two rights are on the same path next time." She nodded, unhappy but reconciled to her decision.
He glanced at her, kneeling so small and forlorn on the floor. He knew that it hurt her to ignore the rules but she had a kind heart. Someday soon, she would make a great Knight. Filled with a sudden sadness for his lonely future without her, he reached down and pulled her up to sit next to him. He looked for a moment at her disheveled appearance, then began to grin.
She leaned away, disconcerted. "What?"
"You need a haircut, Padawan. It's getting a bit...well, ratty. And it's sticking straight up in the back."
She just glared at him and said slowly, distinctly. "I was asleep." She tried to push her hair into order but failed miserably. "Besides, you don't look so good yourself. You need to rest, my Master."
"Yes, I do." He sighed heavily. "You know that, although we may not always agree, I will miss you very much when you become a knight, Atel."
"That's a long time from now, Master."
"Not so long. Some knights are nearly your age. Before you know it, you will be off on your own missions."
She just rolled her eyes at him, then snorted. "Okay, when you start getting this maudlin, I know it's time for you to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." Shaking her head, she strode to the door, stepped into her room and, closing her door, said a quiet "Good night".
Obi-Wan just stared after her, muttering. "I already miss the gangling knobby-kneed girl." Shrugging, he moved into the classic meditation position and began to search for calm in this cauldron of emotion. It was a very long time in coming.
The pulsating light from the Coruscant night oozed through the window, spilling across the carpeted floor in pools of deepest ebony and blood-red crimson. By the glass, a lone cowled figure, his visage hidden behind black cloth and deceit, paused for a moment to contemplate the coming fate of his enemies - the detested Jedi, now cowering in the halls of their impoverished and crumbling Temple and the simpering Loyalists, so santimonious in their futile pleas for calm and compromise. Soon, very soon, all his machinations would come to fruition. The fate of the Republic would rest solely in his hands; such exquisite power would be his alone. And then the fools would be no more. He could almost taste the hot copper-tang of their spurting blood, smell the ozone of lightsabers tearing through their broken bodies, hear their hoarse cries of delicious agony.
Those provocative, savory thoughts came to an abrupt end. The darkness sang with the putrid touch of his Force-fouled apprentice as he crept towards Darth Sidious, hesitant to approach his Master standing there so still and silent, staring out into deepest space. It was not wise to interrupt the Sith Lord at his polluted pleasures, contemplating the total obliteration of his despised enemies. Darth Maul knew this. Cowled in deepest black, he knelt before Lord Sidious, bowing his head, penitent, awaiting instruction.
"Maul, report."
"My Master, Kamino output is on schedule. The first 200,000 units are ready and awaiting your orders. A million more are on the way."
"Excellent." Sidious stared down at the cowering figure, a false serpent's smirk drifting across his face. "And how fares the Geonosis project?"
"As planned, Count Dooku has stirred the pot into a boiling frenzy. Several groups, including the Trade Federation, the Corporate Alliance and the Banking Clan, have all thrown in their support of a separatist movement and are eager to begin battle. You have but to wave your hand and it shall be done."
"Good, good. A few more days perhaps and then... My apprentice, you have done well." His voice was husky with sated satisfaction and yet, the apprentice continued to kneel before him. "Is there something else you wish to tell me?"
"Yes, my Master." Wordlessly, he reached into the fastness of his cloak, and offered a blue lekku, streaked with dried blood and offal, the skin shredded and fluttering as Maul laid the obscene flesh at his Master's feet.
"A fine gift, Lord Maul. Aayla Secura, I assume."
"Yes, my Master."
"And yet... you remain bowed before me. Should I ask the reason or should I pull it from your torn body as you lay screaming in purest pain? Do not try my patience too far."
Maul lowered his eyes and, grimacing, nodded. "My Lord, I have destroyed three additional Jedi, a Master and two Knights, with one blow. There was not enough flesh remaining to add to your large collection. For this, I am truly sorry."
"And why is that a problem? As long as the Jedi fools are dead, what does a bit of meat matter?"
"The manner of their death disturbs me, my Lord. I had arranged for the passenger ship, Dawn Star, to be boarded by pirates. The Black Sun criminals are looking to enhance their flesh trade in the area and two hundred or so new slaves would have sweetened our approach for an alliance with them. Temporary alliance, of course."
"Of course."
"I had disabled all of the lifepods, trapping the passengers, crew and Jedi aboard. But the pirate scum were too hasty and, unhappily, the ship blew up prematurely. There were no survivors, Master."
"That is a tragedy." A hint of derisive laughter played in the Dark Lord's voice and a smile tugged at his visage for a moment. "No matter. Slaves can be such a bother. And it may have been a boon with the Abolitionist Union increasingly active in the Outer Rim Territories. If I didn't know any better, I would think that Jinn's pitiful little band was plotting a slave revolt in the near future. Too bad, he won't be around to help complete the task."
"My Lord?"
"Jinn will soon be destroyed." The gravelly voice was tinged with grim amusement. "No, I want the attention of the Republic well away from Geonosis for the moment. A slave uprising on Tatooine or Ryloth or any of the nearby systems at this time would muddy the waters and possibly highlight our activities in the area. The Black Sun brigands will have to get their own slaves, flounder a bit more on their own. I don't need them quite yet, perhaps later."
"Yes, my Master."
"Now, rise my apprentice. Time for a little sport."
Darth Sidious moved towards the hologram generator, gesturing Lord Maul into a midnight-hued corner, hidden from view but not out of earshot. The dark Master pressed a button and a deformed, flickering figure appeared above the desk.
"My Lord, greetings. How may I serve you?" The voice was as distorted as the figure, giving no clue as to the identity of the being.
"Is this connection secure?" Sidious demanded in stern, adamant tones. Any detection at this critical juncture would be disastrous to his plans.
The voice was tenuous and cringing. "Of...of course, my Lord."
"Good. I would not wish to find that you have been neglectful." The Sith's threat was real, razor-sharp but then the tone softened into false rapport. "My friend, it is good to hear from you once more. How goes our little venture with Kenobi? I assume that he has arrested Jinn and they are on their way back to Coruscant."
The response reflected quivering fear and astonishment, terrified that the news would not be well received.