Master Apprentice
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Category: A/U, Romance **ANGST**
Rating: R (for adult themes)
Spoilers: For all movies, including TPM, and the JA books.
Archive: Nowhere right now, thanks. :-)
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, we don't. Damn.
EXILES SERIES: In an alternate universe set fifteen years after the events in The Phantom Menace, two Jedi live in hiding on the desert planet of Tatooine, awaiting a child's destiny. Will they survive to see a new hope come to fruition?
JOURNALS -- BOOK ONE: Together, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon explore their distant past with the aid of an unusual discovery.
Spring only lasts for a week on Tatooine and this year I'm determined to make the most out of it. I've spent nearly two mornings in a row pulling old dusty items out from the small storage space we've so meticulously crammed our meager possessions into and I'm not going to stop until that space has room to breathe once more.
Out goes worn clothing and shredded boots. Ripped utility belts are tossed onto the refuse heap and anything that can be recycled is put on its own pile. I'm determined to be merciless this year and all items must prove to me their worth or face their fate.
Qui-Gon has been surprisingly quiet during this process. Perhaps he feels the need as well as I do to reduce the clutter in our lives. Owning too much would make any Jedi uncomfortable -- it's unnatural for us to be surrounded by mounds of material possessions.
Still, I see him pick up an item or two and examine it wistfully when he thinks I'm not looking. He seems especially enamored of an ancient wooden chest, its once beautiful and exquisitely carved exterior now dirty, worn and cracked. The hinges are rusted and half fallen away, the interior is covered with stains and mold and I'm determined to be rid of it, no matter how long we've owned it or how beautiful it once was.
Qui-Gon, however, seems a bit determined otherwise. He picks it up again and runs his hand over it, smoothing away the grime.
"We bought this right after our bonding. Do you remember?" A hinge falls off and clatters the floor as he opens its creaking top.
"No, I'm afraid I don't."
"Oh, you must." He bends to pick up the hinge. "That little shop near Temple. We'd just arrived back on Coruscant after Naboo and Anakin had wanted to see the city proper." With a groan, he straightens up and sighs. "It was on Artists Row ... a beautiful part of the North Quarter. All those artisans and their quaint shops. Remember?"
"I remember Artists Row, love, but not that particular purchase." I yank hard on two bundles of old clothes that have decided to fight for their lives. "It wasn't a gift between us, was it?"
"No, I don't think so. Just a trinket we picked up on a whim I'd suppose." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "But we did keep it for some reason, and I can't help but wonder why."
"Laziness most likely. " The bundles suddenly give way and I find myself covered with a huge pile of musty cloth. "Oh for ..." I groan, coughing beneath tickling rolls of dust.
I hear Qui-Gon chuckle, but old dervit he is, he makes no move to help me. "Would you mind if I held onto this for a few days? I'm going to disassemble it and make sure that my misgivings are nothing but an old man's imagination."
"Certainly. But if there's nothing to it, out it goes. Agreed?"
"Agreed." He finally comes over and helps me recover what little is left of my dignity. His smile is so mischievous and sweet, I find myself forgetting my determination to finish this work by today and wonder if he wouldn't mind a mid-afternoon distraction ... or two.
Reading my thoughts, he kneels beside me and I find myself thoroughly kissed and gently settled back into the pile of clothes. Their mustiness is forgotten as he moves against me and suddenly, spring cleaning turns into the most pleasant work I've done all day.
If not all year.
A few hours later, the day's refuse is put outside, and I'm cleaning up the last of our supper dishes as Qui-Gon sets to work taking apart the box. He works methodically and precisely, making sure not to destroy anything that might hold a clue to its meaning.
I'm convinced the box is nothing more than a bit of useless junk, but, since it pleases him to be sure, I am pleased to allow it. Besides, it's pleasant to watch him be so absorbed in a task; his concentration is complete and always a joy to behold.
I hear a softly muttered oath and a small crack follows. As careful as he is being, the wood is ancient and time and wear have made it nearly impossible to take it apart without some breakage.
But I'm not prepared for the gasp that follows. "By the ... Obi- Wan, come here please." His voice is filled with wonder.
I put down the dishes and move to peer over his shoulder. "What is it?"
"The top of the box broke in two," he says softly. "And look what I found in its hollow."
He holds up a batch of small gray metal squares, some of them so small, I have to squint to make out their shapes. I carefully pick one up from his palm and examine it closely.
And get a chill when the memory returns. "Oh, Force," I breathe. "Our journals."
He nods solemnly at me. "Yes. I knew there was something about this box. Thank the Force my memory has remained just good enough to save us from complete disaster."
"Indeed." I take the seat beside him and gently sift through the metal chips. "These aren't the originals. These are the combined copies we made and shipped to Alderaan, just in case." A terrible thought hits me. "What do you think happened to the others? Do ... do you think that Vader..."
He pales. "I don't know. But, either way, we still have these."
"Yes." I pick one up and examine it closely. "They're very old, Qui. I don't know if we'll be able to use our current scanner to read them."
"I could modify it, or maybe we can hunt for an older model in Mos Espa."
"Or ..." I brighten at another memory and storm over to one of the refuse piles. After a short dig, I pull out a battered and rusted digital reader with a flourish. "We can fix this one."
He smiles as I hand it to him. "Well, isn't this as ancient as the Guryat Mountains." He tsks softly as he looks at it. "To think, this was the height of technology in its day."
"Could read up to six cartridges at once." I grin at the memory. "Play music and navigate hyperspeed jumps with a simple spoken command."
He snorts. "Too bad the cartridges themselves became obsolete a year or so later."
"I think we could all learn from that bit of irony." The small cartridges are cool in my palm, and I can't help but be a little excited, and a little apprehensive, to read them again.
These journals contain more than just our history together, they contain clues as well.
Clues as to the fall of our apprentice, our Chosen One -- Anakin. Clues that may only give up their secrets in hindsight, only after these many years have put distance between the events and our emotions. And our rememberances.
Rememberances of the child who was at once my younger brother, my friend, occasional student and for a very short time -- my rival.
Vader has all but obliterated his memory; the sunny boy who could race starships through hyperspace, who could make a lightsaber in less than a week and who would often sit curled up against me, huddled within my robe, his small body shaking with the cold of deep space until we warmed the air around us with Force.
The one who would run to embrace me after long separations ... the one I sat vigil with the night before his bonding, reading from the ritual texts and laughing with him when his nerves caused him to trip a moment before he entered his wife's bedchamber for the first time.
The one who finally swore he'd destroy me ... no matter how long it took.
Qui-Gon's eyes meet mine, and they are filled with the same fears. These journals hold within them a tale that we may not be prepared to relive, but one we must try to learn from ... as well as one that we must never forget.
I reach beneath the table and slide open its utility drawer. A moment's worth of digging reveals a tool box, and this I hand to Qui-Gon. Together, we will work on the scanner, and when it is ready ... when we are ready, we will begin our journey back through time, reading through the chronicle of our life, hopefully to discover that we can cherish our past ...
While making sure not repeat our mistakes.
Standard Date: 9177810-7698
The Sovereign Court of Naboo
He said yes.
Last night, just as all hope abandoned my heart ... just as I had resigned myself to living out the bitter years alone and without love ...
He said yes.
Maybe I've lost my mind, maybe it was a dream, like so many of the ones I've fought to forget over the years. I wouldn't be surprised if it were, coming as it did immediately after I'd lived through the darkest hours of my existance. Dreams can will their way even into a Jedi's shattered heart; I've often indulged in their false comfort even when the Code expressly forbade such pointless wandering.
I thought I had earned the right.
After ten years of hopeless longing, I was forced to listen to my life, the light of my heart and soul, abandon me before the Council without so much as a warning; then to watch him fall to the blade of a Sith should have been more than enough to send me into a permanent stupor of nonsensical dreaming
But tonight ... no, tonight I am not dreaming. It was far too real, far too superior to any dream I've ever had, as passionate and tender as those have been. Qui-Gon and I fought, then touched and I wept on his shoulder and he let me, before allowing me the joy of finally knowing him in the way I've wanted to for so very, very long.
When all was said and done, I offered him my life and my oath, through the rites of the lifebonded. It was his to refuse, his to deny, but ...
He said yes.
And now, I think I'm dreaming again, for there is nothing but the night sky over Naboo, filled with the light of an endless parade of stars and the small creatures in the garden sing through the Force and soon, the sun will rise and he will be beside me, as he is now ... tomorrow ... always.
I was going to throw away this journal, resign it to the same place I was going to resign my heart, but how all has changed. I'm going to keep this chronicle for the rest of my life, and one day, when we are old and gray, Qui-Gon and myself will sit by the dying fire and read it together, and hopefully, remember ...
The day he said yes.
Standard Date: 9177810-7623
The Sovereign Court of Naboo
If one will ever ask me what I think of Naboo, I'd have to tell them that it is very lovely place for short visits, but a life here would be so quiet as to make one comatose after any appreciable amount of time. And while Her Majesty is a good and courageous ruler, she is still a young girl and the giggling between her and her handmaidens grows tiresome after the fourth or fifth hour of it.
Fortunately young Anakin thinks much the opposite.
He's been quite the ambassador for the Jedi presence here and I have to say I'm grateful for it. It frees me from attending to Her Highness's court, allowing me to spend my time beside my wounded lifemate in relative peace. I've been worrying the court physicians night and day, and can't help but think he'd be better off with the healers on Coruscant, but he must be stabilized for travel first.
Master Yoda looked in on him today, as well as Master Windu. They both were kind enough to lay hands upon him, and he improved noticeably after their ministrations. Master Yoda in particular took special care, even calling him his "obstinate padawan" just to make him smile.
We've decided not to mention our bond to either of them, not until we reach Temple. There are still too many questions left unanswered in regard to the Sith, whose body and saber was unfortunately lost down the palace's reactor shaft.
The loss of the saber in particular pains us; it would have been a welcome clue as to the creature's origin. I have never seen one like it, and hope to never again, but still ...
It is a few hours until supper and I think I'll spend them with Qui-Gon. I've retrieved a disc of his favorite essays, and I think it will amuse him to hear me read them aloud while mispronouncing the Sliggish, as I'm prone to do. It might also have the added bonus of putting him to sleep, since he's become a bit more active than I'd like since our bonding.
Not that I would mind in the slightest under normal circumstances, but this is not the time.
He must recover and together, we will return to Temple, where we can indulge in each other's company to our hearts content, for the rest of our lives.
Standard Date: 9177810-76945
Space
At last we are headed to Coruscant. I can't properly express my happiness at finally being spaceborne and I know Qui-Gon is relieved as well.
Unfortunately, our young charge is not so happy. Anakin misses Her Highness and the attentions of her court and is not yet used to the chill of deep space. He sleeps in fits and I can't help but feel bad for the boy. All my misgivings about him have vanished; in truth I'm now ashamed of my jealous vehemence toward him. It was unworthy of a Jedi, and I've asked his forgiveness, which he granted readily, if not without confusion.
Tonight I will let him sleep beside me, as the ship's bunks are too small to fit Qui-Gon and myself. Besides, my beloved is getting randier by the moment, and it's taking great effort to keep him rested. Great effort on both our behalf, I'll add.
Besides, patience is a virtue ... or so says some silly old nerfherder who was never in love.
Standard Date: 9177810-7698
Space
Yet another nightmare. This makes it the third night in a row Anakin has woken up crying, first for his mother, then for something else, in a guttural language unknown. It was disturbing to hear, more disturbing to see, the toll these dreams are taking on the child.
He wakes shaking violently, fighting against an imaginary black draigon, one with a steady, hissing breath. He's dying, he cries, suffocating and his skin is burning, peeling away before his very eyes, leaving behind nothing but blood and bone.
It's a terrible dream and I wonder how long he's been having them - - and if they are something new, or if he's been keeping them hidden. His mother said nothing to Qui-Gon of nightmares, but Anakin's Force sensitivity is such, that it would be unlikely for him not to have prophetic, and empathic, dreams.
Jedi feel suffering as well as joy through the Force, and without the knowledge of how to shield and protect our minds from such intrusions, it can be a painful existence. Some Force sensitives go mad unless trained; as the images of the future, of strange places they've never seen, of death and suffering weave randomly through their minds as an endless parade of holopics, each one bloodier and more frightening than the last.
It took some time, but I soothed him as best I could. He wanted to go to Qui-Gon, and ask him if he can make it stop, but I urged patience. Qui-Gon is still not fully recovered and we will be with the healers in less than two Standard days.
The boy shuddered and agreed and he's now asleep beside me, breathing steadily and quietly. I'll keep watch over him as the night progresses, and make sure he doesn't harm himself if the dreams return.
Standard Date: 9177810-18723
The Temple At Coruscant
We are finally home and thankfully landed during the early dark hours, and as so, we were not greeted by throngs of curious well- wishers. It seems that everyone has heard of our misadventure on Naboo -- it is supposedly the talk of the entire Senate as well.
Anakin is also a center of speculation and this does not please either Qui-Gon or myself. The boy will have a difficult enough time as it is to fit into life here, and we must do all we can to shield him from prying eyes. I've suggested that he be taken to a quieter training facility, perhaps Kuros or Canteth, but Qui-Gon doubts the Council will allow it. He even wonders if they will allow the boy to be trained in any off-world missions, especially after his master's nearly fatal encounter with the Sith.
I told him I couldn't imagine such a thing -- how can one learn to be a Jedi except through experience -- but Qui-Gon fears it may be so. We can only wait and listen and see.
In the meantime, we still have our bonding to reveal to the Council, but Qui-Gon is much less apprehensive about that. He mentioned that Master Yoda had once broadly hinted as much lay in store for us, but he'd refused to recognize the prophecy. I asked him why, but he said nothing, instead silencing me with a kiss.
This troubles me, but not so much that I can't put it aside. For now.
I've begun to prepare Anakin's room. It will be my old one, the tiny padawan's quarters adjacent to Qui-Gon's. As a newly made Knight, I will be formally presented with my new quarters, most likely on the other side of the building. However, I don't expect to be staying there long, as I am a bonded man, and will insist on staying with my lifemate.
I wonder about that as well, how we will share this life we've chosen, but Qui-Gon assures me that all will be well, and with the Force, all things are possible.
I only hope he is right.
Standard Date: 9177810-17823
The Temple At Coruscant
I cannot believe this. I cannot believe that I've already been chosen for a mission. This is impossible and if Qui-Gon doesn't do something, I will speak to the Council myself.
I've been here less than an entire rotation and already, I'm being sent to arbitrate some miserable little water rights dispute on Alderaan. Impossible, with Qui-Gon still in pain, the boy still with night fears and myself bonded less than twenty Standard days.
I think they do this on purpose, the cold hearted t'diks. They still wish to test me, they still want to ply me with more trials, even while knowing my situation. Everything is a test to them, and all are unworthy except for their own high and exalted selves.
Shame upon them, I hope they will be very happy living with themselves as I suffer.
Qui-Gon has said nothing except for a short comment on my anger. He's right, I am angry, and unashamed of it. This is not right, serenity is not the same as being cold-hearted, and if any of them were bonded or had love for anyone besides themselves, they would have pity on me.
But no, not one of them has dared to take a step outside of that glass temple they house their hearts in, no, instead they force someone who loves to pay for that love with his life.
Ah, I'm going to stop this recording. Enough for now, perhaps I am not thinking clearly, perhaps Qui-Gon is right. Anger has clouded my judgment -- perhaps he is right.
Perhaps mediation is in order ... if not, then sleep must suffice.
Standard Date: 9177810-2871
Space
I haven't recorded in this journal for days, as my heart was too heavy to do anything but the bare essentials. I've been sent off- world by the Council to mediate a dispute on Alderaan and tearing myself away from Qui-Gon was the hardest, most unwelcome thing I've ever had to do.
It would have been difficult under any circumstances, even as his padawan, time spent apart from him was time I could have done without, but now ... oh, Force how I miss him. I miss his warmth and his eyes, his smile and his touch. His soothing voice and the feel of him beside me at night, perfectly fitted against me, as we were always meant to be. I have never felt more alone, and if this is what being apart is always going to be like, then another way must be found.
It must.
I miss my young friend as well; the poor child nearly wept when I boarded the transport. But he controlled himself well, and I told him that I knew he would do his best in my absence, as he was already being very brave and good. He begged me to be well and return as quickly as I could and to please not forget that he and Qui-Gon would think of me every moment until then.
I told him I would not forget, that I could not forget, and boarded without looking back. I don't know what Qui-Gon's expression was, but it doesn't matter. Through our bond, I felt the hurt in his heart, and that alone was almost too much to bear.
This is a cruel, hard thing this life. Yes, I'd been warned, but Force that warning was not enough. I could be gone for years ... years that my love and I cannot recover. Anything could happen in the meantime, and I could conceivably remain in ignorance of any number of disasters. Death, sickness ... oh, Force, this is unfair.
I've spent my entire life waiting for this moment, my first mission as a Knight and Qui-Gon told me I should be bursting with pride and excitement, but instead I want nothing more than what ordinary men have -- the ability to choose the direction of their life, and the will to see that choice through, be it for good or ill.
I feel hardly a man at all, but a puppet of the Senate, an august body that could care less if I lived or died, if Qui-Gon was well or ill or if Anakin was trained with his own best interests in mind.
How attractive is the thought to succumb to anger, to turn around and abandon this life, but fortunately years of training hold me back -- as well as my respect for my teacher, who is now my life. Perhaps the Council knew what they were doing, sending me away so soon.
Perhaps this is a true test of my commitment to the Order, but ah, no Jedi has ever had a Trial as difficult as this. If I survive this, I'd say I'd done a lifetime's worth of work, and all I can do is pray they see it that way. If not ...
No, I will resign myself to this and I will do my best, if not for the Order, for Qui-Gon. I am his legacy and I would die before I shamed him. Alderaan will have peace and I will complete my mission to the best of my ability and after that, I will let the Force be my guide.
It has given me Qui-Gon, so much more than that, I cannot ask.
Standard Date: 9177819-81782
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
I must say one thing about this world I've been sent to, it certainly is a rich one. I've never seen such a well-fed, content populace and even its poorer citizens are filled with nothing but cheerful ambition and very good wine.
This is to say nothing of its capital or the court of my host, Bail Organa. Its tasteful opulence amazes and I've been treated with a respect bordering on deification. The prince and his bride are both intelligent, charming people, and even though I miss my home, I can't say I've been sent to the usual tar pit this time.
The water dispute, in reality, is a minor ethnic battle, one that's be going on for a few thousand years. It's almost a tradition between these two tribes, but His Highness wants it ended as the youth has been turning to violence and mischief in recent days. There's much blustering and posturing on both sides, and it was very amusing to see their collective jaws nearly drop to the floor when I entered the arbitration room.
Cloak sleeves dangling, hood up and covering my face, slow gait ... I was quite the sight, I'm sure. Next time, I think I'll levitate in, just to really hurry them into agreeing.
Oh, Force, I can almost hear Qui-Gon tsking at me from across the galaxy. All right, my dearest master and love, I'll be good, but I still miss you, my heart. I will send you a communique today I think, after the next round of talks. It appears every damned inch of this river must be accounted for, so alas, it's not going to be a short assignment, but, I promise I will make do.
You will be proud of your stubborn padawan, of this I will make sure.
Standard Date: 9177819-81782
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
Received a reply from Qui-Gon this morning and I've yet to see a more welcome sight. Even in holopic form he is beautiful beyond my wildest imaginings, and I fell in love afresh. The message itself was nowhere near as interesting as the messenger -- the usual rundown of Temple gossip and the latest political scandal -- but it was good to hear nonetheless. He refrained from speaking too much about Anakin, but this is wise of him. I know the Council is still unsure of the boy, and if any predators are lurking, we shall not give them any hints to the child's progress.
According to Qui-Gon, Anakin is well and sends me his love, and that is good enough.
The negotiations are going well, if painfully slow. Undoing a few millennia of hatred is a tricky process; one must be very careful to try and unite, but not by becoming the enemy of both sides -- which is easy to do if one isn't paying close attention. Their awe at my status as a Knight has faded considerably, and this gives me the great leverage of surprise, in case it becomes necessary to use a show of power.
Never show your game in a single round, Qui-Gon always said, and he was right.
The talks are being conducted in an orderly manner, and it's quite pleasant to be released from their monotony at a set time every day. Invitations to various social events are pouring in and I'm running out of polite ways of saying "leave me alone." Of course, I can't turn down an invitation from my hosts, but luckily they restrict their lavish parties for holidays and eat a normal meal just as everyone else on most nights.
Dinner with the Organas is pleasant, even if the Princess is a bit of character, taken to wearing odd headgear, blinding dresses and ten meter long robes. If that isn't bad enough, her Highness needles me endlessly on my own clothing, of which she thinks is as dull as the bottom of K'aksin slug pit.
"I can picture you in an Akaren dancer's outfit, I certainly can."
"You're very good, your Highness, but alas, I am not an Akaren dancer."
"Oh, that can be arranged."
Fortunately, I'm delivered from this mortal threat by Bail who usually turns the topic to more pleasant things like executions, floods and murders. Tonight's discussion centered on a rash of killings in the southern city of Erdleran; they are supposedly quite mysterious and gruesome. Headless human and demi-human trunks, the neck stumps cauterized.
The decapitations don't disturb me as much as the cauterizations, which are very odd indeed. If I get a chance, perhaps I'll inquire into the matter, just out of curiosity. It's certainly more interesting than fighting over broken dams and dried out irrigation canals.
But ... not as interesting as this private message that's coming in from Qui-Gon at this very moment.
I shall return.
Standard Date:
Communique to Qui-Gon Jinn, Master
The Temple at Coruscant
With respect to my Master, and love to my lifebonded.
Words cannot express my gratitude upon receipt of your last message, it was exactly what I needed to take my thoughts away from the loneliness that plagues me here on Alderaan. It was thoughtful, soulwarming and will help me maintain my serenity for many, many nights to come.
Unfortunately I've not been given a private channel here for my own use, so this communication, by necessity, must not have as much detail as I would have liked. However, a short moment of imagining on your part will very likely convey just as much, if not more, than mere words ever could. I will do all you dream of and more then next time we are together, may the Force grant it be soon.
I miss you dearly, for without you, I am without the better part of my heart.
Thank you also for the news from Coruscant. I will send under separate cover my congratulations to Master Yoda on his successful bid for the hand of Master Yaddle. His consistency and patience has paid off well -- three hundred years worth of bonding proposals is an enormous undertaking. Although I do fear there will be great moans of misery in the gambling quarters of the city ... the odds on this particular event were quite long.
If you find a moment, embrace Anakin for me, and tell him he is in my thoughts.
I must run now, dearest Master and beloved. May the Force be with you and Anakin, and may we soon be as one again, as is our due through the vows we've spoken.
with all love,
Kenobi, Knight
Alderaan
Standard Date: 9177819-948234
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
Five more murders, all similar to the ones committed in Erdleran, but this time taking place in the capital, one not more than a dozen kilometers from the palace.
Bail is disturbed, his wife is in fits and I'm now more than a little curious. I've hinted broadly that I wouldn't be adverse to investigating this matter, perhaps in the evenings after the river arbitration, and His Highness readily agreed to allow me to do so.
I've seen photos of the bodies and the gruesome nature of the murders doesn't disturb me as much as the methodical practices of the killer. Every head has been cleanly swiped from the trunk and the wound carefully seared shut. There are madmen in every species, some live on every world, but few are as brazen and precise as this one. It's almost as if he's conveying a message, but what that might be and to whom it is directed is the real mystery.
I also wonder what sort of weapon he's been using. It isn't a blaster, or a longbow ... I suppose I'll have to go examine a corpse in person as distasteful as that will probably be. But, my curiosity is piqued and I'm afraid I won't be able to help myself.
I never could resist a good mystery.
With respect to the Council,
Masters, this note will be brief as I am using the private emergency channel of His Highness, Bail of Alderaan without his knowledge. Under the auspices of House Organa, I've been investigating a string of murders that have plagued two of the major cities of Alderaan and have made a disturbing discovery.
The weapon involved is a lightsaber.
I am aware that in the Lower Quadrant, lightsabers are still the weapons of choice on those far away worlds, I'm also aware that these ancient and indigenous peoples rarely travel off their home planet and conserve their weapons mainly for ritual use. While it is possible that a saber may have fallen into disreputable hands by various means, the precise use of the weapon leads me to believe that the person who wields it has been trained in the arts as we ourselves know them now.
This causes me to ponder the killer's nature, origin and motives, especially in light of Master Jinn's recent encounter with the Sith in the Great Hall of Naboo.
Please advise as soon as possible via a secure channel.
I await your word and as always, am your servant in Force.
Kenobi, Knight
With respect to Kenobi, Knight,
Advisor is being sent post haste. Do nothing until his arrival.
Master Mace Windu, Coruscant
Standard Date: 9177819-81782
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
If one had asked me just yesterday if I could be as happy as I am at this moment, I would have thought they were mad. But, yet, I am happy ... happier than any Jedi has the right to be.
The Council has sent Qui-Gon as my advisor.
When the transport arrived I expected nothing more than another Knight, perhaps one with a bit more experience than I, but when Qui-Gon stepped off that ramp, I thought my heart would simply give up beating and I could die of joy. I controlled myself, only for his sake, and out of respect for my hosts, or else they would have gotten quite an eyeful right there on the landing tarmac.
He seemed just as pleased, but, as always, in complete control.
In retrospect the Council was wise to send him, as he has the perfect excuse for being here. I've not shared my suspicions with their Highnesses in regard to the killer's identity or affiliation, so a visit from any other Jedi besides the one I'm lifebonded to would raise some serious questions.
But no, it is merely a visit from my new bondmate, and her Highness in particular is quite tickled with the idea. New couples are so sweet, she claims, and insists we take the larger quarters near the gardens for our "repose." I can see she's already planning congratulatory dinners and teas and whatnot, and it will take all of Qui-Gon's negotiating skill to extricate us from her overzealous grasp.
Besides, I'm not sure we'll make it out of the bedroom often enough to attend to any functions.
Last night was perfect, as Qui-Gon is now fully recovered. It's strange, in my dreams he was so many things -- the picture of nobility, tenderness and respect. In reality he is all, and none, of that ... he is forceful, wonderful, selfish and blinding in his love and together, as one, we simply are.
He is my Qui-Gon, I am his Obi-Wan, and beyond that, there is nothing else that matters.
It does my training ill to be walking around with this huge smile on my face, especially in the arbitration room where both sides gape at me, incredulous, as if some laughing j'ckedaw has taken the place of the staid Jedi who sat there the morning before. I think their eyes would widen even further if they saw the bruises that cover me from the neck down, beautiful, welcome marks, born of desire ... a desire that burns hotly indeed.
I'm sore, stretched ... and ridiculously complete.
Qui-Gon didn't emerge unscathed from last night either, and covering the suck mark I unfortunately placed right below his chin will take some artful maneuvering. Luckily his hair is long enough to cover a multitude of sins, so he'll have to wear it down today, which is fine with me.
Tonight he'll begin the investigation into the murders and I will assist, especially in distracting our hosts, who have no idea of the awful danger that is possibly lurking in their otherwise peaceful kingdom.
Standard Date: 9177819-66285
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
After his review of the victims, Qui-Gon has brought back more disturbing news. None of them are related to the water talks (as we had hoped they might be) or, worse, to each other. They seem completely picked at random; the only consistent thing between them is the manner of death, which was dealt with nearly surgical precision.
Wielding a lightsaber so exactly against a living creature is a very difficult task; even Qui-Gon and I can rarely deal blows that cleanly. He's checked to make the victims were conscious at the time of death, and without exception they were.
None of this is welcome news, and I'll admit it's putting me on edge. Our nearly fatal encounter with the Sith (A Sith! Force knows I'd never have dreamed of writing such a word,) has changed many of my long held views on the Jedi's place in the universe and our honest ability to meet such a challenge.
I don't think we are prepared, no, not enough, for such a threat, if it ever truly arrives. We've been lax on our watch, perhaps overconfident as well. Qui-Gon does not agree, but the scales have been tipped in our favor for so long, is it not possible that a certain lethargy, a certain apathy. has snuck into our ranks, and made it so we think ourselves invincible?
Qui-Gon still argues that it is not so, that after five thousand years of peace we are better prepared than ever to meet such a challenge and the Jedi will be more inspired to quickly tamp out any leftover sparks of Darkness that may exist in our universe from days past.
But I can't help but wonder if these are leftover sparks ...
Or the beginning of a new bonfire of evil.
Standard Date: 9177819-66285
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
Note to myself -- tickling the backs of Qui-Gon's knees when he is asleep is a good way to get accidentally kicked in the head.
I'm really beginning to despise this arbitration, it is tearing me away from my two real interests here on Alderaan, one which is being with my bondmate and two, these murders which grow more brazen by the day.
There were two more victims discovered last night, and one of the decapitated heads was left on the doorstep of the palace itself. Bail had it immediately removed before the princess or their courtiers saw it and has sworn his guards to secrecy. He fears for his wife's peace of mind, not to mention the mental stability of the general populace. Hysteria is to be avoided at all costs, and he's spent a good part of this morning trying to rush the talks to their end, as he wishes my attention focused more on the gruesome matter at hand.
His Highness has tripled the guard surrounding the palace and quietly called in a virtual battalion of bounty hunters, after putting an exorbitant fee on the killer's head. I question the wisdom of this, but Qui-Gon believes we could use the extra manpower.
Jedi or not, finding one creature on a world of millions is not a simple task.
We've given careful instructions to the mercenaries that the creature was to be taken alive if possible, and cautioned them about the lightsaber. We aren't sure if these hardened, demi- criminals themselves will heed our warnings, but it's the best we can do.
This evening Qui-Gon and I will explore the city's seedier districts, in hope that the street rumors will prove helpful. After that I look forward to a restful night beside him, one just as pleasant as last night was.
Standard Date: 9177819-9282
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
Nothing new to report, except that the water talks have ended on a peaceable note. I'm rather pleased with the outcome; it's a good feeling to know that we've been a catalyst for peace between two peoples who have warred for generations. I hope they continue on the brave path they've begun, and will soon reap the rewards of their efforts.
We've also received a communique from Anakin and the change in him is wondrous. Qui-Gon left him in the care of Master Ki-lumdal, a meditation expert, and a lovely, gentle being besides, who has obviously taught our young charge to take control of his anxiety and anger through the art of inner contemplation.
The boy finally looks relaxed and happy, without a trace of the dark thoughts and dreams that have likely plagued him his entire life. I'm so pleased to see those young eyes sparkle with joy, and his enthusiasm for the Order has increased exponentially. I'll have to admit, I've fallen for the boy, and can finally see the potential that Qui-Gon saw in him from the first day.
Anakin's going to be an extraordinary knight, Chosen One or not.
Later, I'm going to discuss with Qui-Gon the possibility of sharing the responsibility for Anakin's training between us. I think it would make perfect sense in so many ways, and nothing would please me more than to have the two people I care most for beside me as much as possible.
But, for now, the search for our killer continues. There are tips leading us to a nearby riverfront, where Qui-Gon and I, along with a battalion of bounty hunters, will spend the rest of the day in wait.
Standard Date: 9177820-162629
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
There is something dark and terrible happening here on Alderaan.
Today has been a day of horrors, and the night looks to be no better. The tips we received this morning led us to the local river bank where we soon discovered a fresh kill, the cauterized wound still steaming. The bounty hunters immediately took off in all directions, so intent on capturing their prize, they ignored us, and our warnings, completely.
When we finally caught up with the main group of them, we found some of them dead from reflected laser blasts, some with mortal saber wounds, and only two left alive.
And of those two, the one who claims to have seen the killer's face must have gone mad.
For he insists that Qui-Gon is the culprit.
The madman is swearing up and down, on all things holy and evil that Qui-Gon is the murderer, and that he saw his face, saw him handle the saber he now wields, and described exactly what Qui-Gon is wearing, even down to the Jedi uniform. The man refuses to listen to logic, refuses to see how utterly absurd this claim is, and I'm beginning to grow uneasy.
For panic and fear can make people believe things that make no sense; and even Jedi are not immune from these falsehoods.
Bail Organa is in such a state he scarcely knows what to believe, and all I can do is be thankful he is a calm, thoughtful man, one not prone to making rash judgments. But he is wary now, of both myself and Qui-Gon, and this can do little to help our cause here.
Whatever is going on, I feel it bodes badly for everyone.
Qui-Gon is not as uneasy as I am, but I can tell he is disturbed. Whatever ideas he has in regard to what is going on, he's not sharing any of them with me, and I find this unwelcome throwback to our padawan/master days more than a little irritating.
I'm loathe to argue with him, especially during a crisis, but now is not the time to be cryptic with me. No longer his student, I am at least his equal in responsibility and he has to give me the credit that is due my age and rank, no matter for what reason he hesitates in doing so.
No, my bondmate and I cannot have any rift between us.
Not when I can feel Darkness itself breathing down our necks.
Standard Date: 9177821-18371
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
Another sighting, this one less than a kilometer away from the palace. Again, multiple witnesses have pointed fingers at Qui-Gon and I can see Bail's trust and patience wearing thin beneath the onslaught of eyewitness accounts. They all can't be lying, he claims, his guard now surrounding him in such a way that is beginning to look more than a bit menacing.
In spite of Qui-Gon's instructions to the contrary, I've told Bail that I will capture this creature tonight, come Hells or floods. For the sake of the Order as well as the honor of my lifebonded, it must be done.
May the Force have mercy on me if I fail.
With respect to the Council,
Fellow masters. Take heed of this message, it is possibly the most serious I will ever send to you. On Alderaan today was discovered an abomination, the likes we have not seen since the Great Wars. My former student, and bondmate, Obi-Wan Kenobi found and killed the creature, but not without great damage to himself and I will need a soulhealer sent out immediately, as well as any masters who are capable of travel.
I cannot stress enough the need for haste in your attendance to this matter, which I believe is the herald of a great evil loosed upon the entire galaxy.
Qui-Gon Jinn, Master
Alderaan
Standard Date: 9177821-182921
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
How weary I am. Weary of being serene, weary of being calm ...
Weary of being alive.
The soulhealer stresses caution, even when writing in this journal, but I am human. Or, at least, I must hope and pray I am as much.
Twelve days ago, I cornered our killer, and learned that this ... oh, I cannot even write the word, ... this thing is much more than a killer of men ... it is an omen of terrible darkness. How this ... this abomination has come to be is now the question that must be answered
This thing ... our killer ... it was a clone, an artificially created lifeform -- an abomination and insult to the Force itself.
A clone of a Jedi Master, who happens to be my own love and lifebonded.
If that were not bad enough, I was forced to kill this creature with a stroke of my saber that pierced it through the body whole. It did not die immediately, but lingered on to horrify me with its final breaths and accusations.
I was already wounded by the time it fell, and unable to crawl out of hearing range, I was forced to listen to the abomination gasp and curse in my love's voice ... cursing me, its killer ... taunting me, its enemy ... and warning me to take heed.
As this was just the beginning.
How weary I am.
Qui-Gon lies beside me, asleep now, taking rest for one who cannot. The soulhealer has attempted trances and the like, but nothing works. Every time I close my eyes ... it is all I see. I can still hear its mocking gasps; its final ragged breath.
It knew my name. And told me that I knew its.
The planet is fairly crawling with Jedi now -- Master Yoda himself has arrived, looking pale and grave, even beneath his eternal veneer of serenity. Has he foreseen this event? Does he know what this portends? If so, I feel for him, for he knows a small bit of the agony that is keeping me up at night. I've battled Darkness twice now, and every time I win, I still lose another tiny piece of my soul.
I don't know how much I have left.
I want to leave this planet, I want to go back to Temple and the boy, and stay with Qui-Gon there, doing the work I'd always thought I'd be doing. Ordinary things, ordinary for a Jedi at least, and from there, take my rest from this age which holds no promise but an evil one.
Yes, rest I must.
For I am so weary.
Standard Date: 9177821-182782
The Sovereign Court of Bail Organa, Prince
Alderaan
We leave Alderaan today, and return to Coruscant. I've been put on restricted duty, as has Qui-Gon. The Council obviously thinks we've seen enough action for the moment, and, surprisingly, have agreed to let us both share in Anakin's training for the time being.
Besides, as Master Windu so bluntly put it, we'll most likely be needed when the war starts in earnest.
Yes, there will be a war ... of this, few of us have any doubts. Whoever has dared to spawn this abomination displayed his creation on purpose to us, and it is certain he has not shown his entire hand in this first round.
I said my good-byes to Bail Organa and his family, sensing that our separation would be short-lived. I feel a connection to this man and this planet, one that makes me wonder what our shared future will hold in store for both.
"Be mindful of the present," Qui-Gon still cautions, and he is right. I will put all prophecies away, for now, and take care of what is before me.
There is a child that needs training, a lifebond that needs nurturing ... and a beloved who needs my embraces as much as I need his. Now, tomorrow and always.
Kenobi, Knight
Alderaan
On to Book Two
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