Help Me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, You're My Only Ho - cont'd
(continued from part 13)
Qui-Gon woke early, feeling unusually weary. If his dreams had been troubling, he could not remember them. Making his way quietly so as not to wake Kenobi, he passed through the common room on the way to the 'fresher.
The grey light of pre-dawn dimly outlined a figure standing on the balcony; Qui-Gon only glimpsed it out of the corner of his eye, and then paused to be certain of what he saw.
Not some mysterious figure, but Kenobi standing with his back to the rooms, contemplating the growing blush creeping across the clouds over Coruscant. Unable to resist the lure, Qui-Gon approached.
"You're up early," he said as he joined Kenobi.
"Big day," Kenobi said softly, eyes still seeking the elusive horizon.
Qui-Gon ceased pretending to enjoy the view. "How so?"
Kenobi turned to look at him, one brow raised. "You really don't know?" He sounded more amused than puzzled.
Qui-Gon rummaged through his recent memories and found nothing except his appointment to see the Council with Xanatos. He chose to remain silent. Kenobi snorted. "You have been rather distracted recently, with your recuperating Padawan."
Qui-Gon took in Kenobi's appearance, noting his crisp, somber clothing and unusually developed grooming for a man expecting a day locked in his rooms.
"You're testifying today?" As soon as he said it, Qui-Gon knew it must be true. How could he have forgotten? Why had Kenobi not reminded him? He certainly could not allow Kenobi to go to the Senate Complex alone - any number of things could happen. He was at the Temple for his own safety, after all.
"Don't worry," Kenobi said, noting his distress. "Knight Chun offered to escort me yesterday. He knows how much Xanatos needs you now."
"That was kind of him," Qui-Gon muttered. "Still, I should have been aware-"
"There's no shortage of burdens around here, Master Jedi," Kenobi said. "No need to take them all upon yourself."
Qui-Gon's mind rushed back to their disastrous lovemaking the night before; Kenobi had seemed so desperate, so unusually distressed. I want to feel it tomorrow, he'd said.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard. "Last night-"
The door chime interrupted, and Obi-Wan only bowed his head a little. "Midmeal. We'll talk then."
Qui-Gon waited a moment for Obi-Wan to meet his gaze, but the chime rang again.
"You'd best answer that." The barest hint of a smile touched Kenobi's lips. "It won't open for me."
Nothing to be done for it, Qui-Gon walked to the door. It slid open at his touch to reveal the eerily placid figure of Bruck. His pale hair shone in the near dawn light, pulled back in a thick, unruly braid.
Bruck bowed in greeting. "Master Jinn."
Qui-Gon bowed in return and stepped aside to allow him entrance. Kenobi stepped into the space.
"There's no need to dawdle," he said. "They are expecting me as soon as the doors open."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Terribly early for a Senate hearing."
"This is not a hearing, Master Jinn," Bruck said in even tones. "They will be preparing an affidavit of his testimony."
"I'm told they may not need more than that, now that they have the testimony of two Jedi concerning Orima." Obi-Wan managed an unconcerned shrug. "We will see, I suppose."
Qui-Gon could tell Obi-Wan was nervous, but he concealed it well. He wished he had been more in Obi-Wan's confidence these last few days, and less caught up in his own pain concerning what his Padawan had endured. Xanatos suspected Obi-Wan of complicity with Orima Durante, the man who had nearly given him up as nest-meat for a Kleranom. What if Obi-Wan really was Orima's son? Was the man so depraved as to use his own flesh and blood the way he had used Obi-Wan?
Some things were simply too horrible to contemplate.
Obi-Wan paused on the threshold; Qui-Gon's distress at that line of thought must have bled through his shields or, gods forbid, shown on his face. Obi-Wan placed a hand on Qui-Gon's chest, gaze flicking up to meet his before looking past him.
"I should be back in time to have midmeal ready for you." He smiled when he spoke, but did not look Qui-Gon in the eyes.
"I will watch over him well, Master Jinn." Bruck spoke softly, the tone of his voice richer than Qui-Gon remembered. "I can do that much, but only you can comfort Xanatos now. He needs an anchor in the Light."
The last words came in a whisper. Qui-Gon understood the sentiment, but wondered if Bruck hinted at something more troubling. It pained Qui-Gon to think that Bruck had given up hope of connecting with Xanatos himself.
"He will need the support of all of his friends in the days to come," Qui-Gon answered, hoping Bruck would accept the tacit encouragement.
Bruck nodded, turning the gesture into a bow as he and Obi-Wan departed.
Qui-Gon let the door slide shut and rested his head against its cool surface. He had plenty of time to meditate and prepare for the morning. Watching his former Padawan voice his theories before the Council would test his Jedi serenity to its limits, yet he must support Xanatos.
His Padawan had closed himself off from everyone else, and Qui-Gon suspected that voicing his concerns about Obi-Wan had been in the same vein. A test of his Master's loyalties.
Qui-Gon would make himself an anchor for Xanatos; he would not allow him to isolate himself in his pain. In time Xanatos would come to see the truth, but first he must deal with his own demons. As his Master, Qui-Gon's duty seemed clear.
Walking purposefully out to the balcony, Qui-Gon greeted the new day through the Force. Deep meditation came with surprising ease.
Senator Organa glanced at the chrono on his office wall as he entered. Still a bit early to get any significant work done, since so many of his duties required contact with others in the Senate complex. Few came to work this early, or stayed this late, depending upon how one looked at it.
He had not slept, too full of nervous anticipation to rest, despite his best efforts. He had watched the hours tick past until he saw the day he had so anticipated click into being with the flash of a number. The courtesan would be coming to the Senate Complex today. His courtesan.
The Senator settled into his comfortable but understated chair and leaned back, propping his feet on the corner of his desk. Ordinarily, he would never violate the decorum of his office in that manner, but at this hour there would not be anyone around to notice. No reason not to indulge himself in small ways, after all.
After quite a bit of thought - too much, perhaps - he had devised a way to speak with Kenobi when he came to give his sworn testimony. Bail had to be careful; the consequences could be disastrous if anyone suspected him of having professional dealings with a lover for hire.
The smuggling of exotic or dangerous animals did not fall under the oversight of any committees on which Bail Organa served. But he had found a way to speak with Kenobi all the same. Preparation had always proven Bail's greatest strength, and he had covered his tracks well.
He had sold the suite of rooms once belonging to his family to a shell corporation with no traceable ties to Bail himself. Yet another ghostly business paid the lease and some small expenses related to décor.
Not far away, the rooms waited, well stocked with exotic delights which Bail felt certain would please and dazzle the courtesan.
Uncertain when Kenobi would be free to move in, he had thought it best to be ready. Kenobi had said he would be the guest of the Jedi until after he testified; if the proceedings required nothing more from him than his sworn affidavit, he could be in residence by tonight. Perhaps not likely, but the possibility sent a thrill through Bail.
Even if fate determined that he must wait a bit longer, if all went well today he would at least have means of contacting Kenobi. Bail reached into the inner pocket of his tunic and pulled the new comlink from its hiding place. Bought by the same business nonentity that he'd invented to deal with the penthouse, the state-of-the-art gadget could not be traced to him.
The comlink felt heavy in his hand, small and shiny as a vibrodart. Bail had always taken pains to distance himself from the trappings of wealth associated with royalty, at least since he'd been selected to serve the people of Alderaan in the Galactic Senate. But if he could indulge in the extravagance that was Kenobi, then why not enjoy a few of his other expensive tastes? So long as he kept it all discreet, no one need be the wiser.
Even a selfless public servant could escape into hedonistic delights on occasion. No harm in that.
Bail removed a pack of stimsticks from his desk, emptying it upon its polished surface. The stimsticks fell in a heap. The pack would be just the right size to conceal the comlink, with several stimsticks to hold it in place. Perfect.
This was going to be a great day.
As he and Kenobi entered the public transport, Bruck relaxed into the swirling currents of the Force, releasing the tension that had been coiling inside him since his meditations during the night. Their trip to the Senate district would not be lengthy, but it would give him time enough to center himself once again. Unable to overcome his agitation completely, Bruck kept it in check with an iron will.
The path between his current reality and the outcome he desired had become hazy, indistinct. Xanatos' rejection of the truth about his betrayal had severely limited the paths that would see them all safely through the coming maelstrom. A night spent in meditation had not revealed the way. Even the Place Between had offered him little insight, showing him only the vaguest shadow of a familiar face.
Somehow, Kenobi held the key to the puzzle before him. He must watch, listen and remain receptive to the Force. Passive.
A surprisingly difficult state to maintain, when the fate of the galaxy and everything you love hangs in the balance.
Kenobi had spoken little since they left Master Jinn's quarters, and now seemed content to stare out of the transport's windows toward the rising brightness. Bruck stared at Kenobi's almost childlike profile, thinking. Something about Obi-Wan, or his testimony... something would reveal itself to him. It must; Bruck refused to contemplate the alternative.
"Is something the matter?" Kenobi had turned to face him, perhaps feeling his close regard. Was there a hint of amusement in his tone?
"You've been very quiet." Bruck glanced out the window.
"Yes."
"That seems... unusual for you." Bruck spoke calmly, trying not to betray his interest. If only he could get Kenobi to talk, maybe that would help him find what he was looking for. "If you have any concerns about this process, I would be happy to discuss them with you."
"I tell them what happened. They record it."
Bruck nodded. "Is there anything else you would like to talk about?"
"No." A smile spread across Kenobi's face. "What about you?"
Bruck felt his face flush hot - one of the more human-feeling ways his body still responded after its recent changes. He frowned, hoping a blush would not be visible through his tan complexion. "I suppose there is one thing I've not said to you that I should."
Kenobi tilted his head, listening.
"Thank you," Bruck said quietly. "For what you did for me and for helping Qui-Gon find Xanatos. His life is a gift more precious to me than my own."
"You have changed, haven't you?" Kenobi's grin managed to be both kind and teasing. "In more than just the obvious ways, I mean."
Bruck nodded, uncomfortable. He must be careful not to say too much. If he influenced Kenobi's actions, he might not find the path he sought. "I am not alone in that regard, I think."
Kenobi chuckled. "I suppose not."
He did not seem inclined to elaborate, and Bruck felt comfortable letting the topic drop. Kenobi's attachment to Master Jinn - and Jinn's to him - had been quite obvious to him. He wondered how Xanatos might deal with his Master's love for Kenobi.
"You care for Xanatos," Kenobi said. It seemed a rather abrupt change of subject to Bruck, unless the other man had picked up on Bruck's thoughts.
"Yes," was all he could manage to say in reply.
"Does he feel the same for you?"
"I thought so, once," Bruck answered. But with so much of Xanatos' suffering being his fault, how could he bear to think so selfishly? "If he can be happy again, it will be enough. Even if I cannot be part of it."
"He has feelings for Qui-Gon." Kenobi's tone betrayed no emotion. None at all. Impressive control, for an untrained Force sensitive.
Bruck could almost imagine Kenobi as a Jedi, but there was much he did not know about life at the Temple. "A Padawan's relationship to his Master is a complicated thing. It is usually the closest the Jedi have to family. Xanatos' situation is somewhat more complex than is typical of Jedi, since he knew his family and had contact with them."
"Did you know your family?" Kenobi turned to look at him more closely. "Do you know anything about them?"
"No," Bruck answered. "Most Jedi do not, though I suppose there are records. Xanatos was a special case, since his father was King of Telos. He had some interest in keeping in touch with Xanatos. He tried to use him, to tempt him away from the Jedi once he was fully trained."
"What happened?"
"When Xanatos refused, his father tried to kill him." As soon as he had spoken, Bruck wondered if he had said too much. "Such relationships can be very complicated."
"I sometimes wonder what I would do if I ever found my parents." Kenobi paused, forcing a dry chuckle. "It's silly, really. I know they must not have cared what happened to me."
"You cannot know that."
"Your parents gave you up so that you could be a Jedi," Kenobi said. "Mine sold me to a brothel."
"Perhaps they thought they had no choice."
Kenobi smiled at Bruck, an unexpectedly broad, gleaming affair. "Someone once told me there's always a choice - even when it seems like there isn't."
"That is very wise," Bruck said. "But love does not require wisdom. Should we not forgive those who care for us when they act unwisely, and trust those we care for to do the same?"
"Gods, I hope so." Kenobi burst into laughter. Bruck could not stop himself from joining him.
The transport arrived at the Senate complex and the passengers began filing out.
"So, you see things?" Kenobi asked, evidently not caring if they were overheard. "I mean, do you know what's going to happen?"
"No," Bruck answered honestly.
"But Qui-Gon said the Lentrebi see things. They know things before they happen."
"If that were true, my Master would still be at the Temple, and my hair would lay straight." Bruck forced a smile as they reached the public walkway. "Most of the time, it seems like strange dreams. Sometimes they make sense."
"So you don't know if Qui-Gon..." Kenobi hesitated and then shook his head. "Never mind."
Bruck felt all too relieved to let the subject drop.
They found the low-level office where Kenobi's testimony would be recorded, but it had not yet opened. They waited in a silence that seemed to be enforced by the structure around them - high ceilings and stone floors seemed to echo and amplify the smallest sounds, as if daring them to speak.
A quick glance at a chrono on the wall told Bruck they would not be waiting long. Kenobi stared at the large vid wall opposite the seating area. Offices situated on lower levels or too far removed from exterior walls to have access to natural light often had vid displays to give the illusion of a window. Slowly, images of morning cycled past, taken from several of the Galactic Senate's member worlds. For most that meant a sunrise view, with the occasional sunset on worlds with nocturnal dominant species.
Currently, a bright, yellow sun peeked over tree-covered mountains, a palace dimly illuminated in the foreground. A small notation in the corner identified the planet as Alderaan.
"You've probably been to most of these worlds," Kenobi commented, his voice barely a whisper.
"A few," Bruck answered. "There are quite a lot."
"So many places, so many worlds." Kenobi shook his head. "I've met beings from all around the galaxy, but it's not the same."
Bruck watched Kenobi, taking the moment to study him with his Lentrebi senses. He could see the lines that connected Obi-Wan to other beings in the galaxy, most of them quite fine, like spider silk. A few stood out as more substantial. Most seemed dull, but a few of the thicker ones shone rather brightly.
Bruck followed the thicker lines with his special sight, wondering to whom they might lead. Lines of fate and Force, some of them bearing affection, some not. One tender shoot glowed with anxiety and emotion that felt familiar to Bruck. Only love could seem so raw with pain and longing, so uncertain. He did not need to guess the name of the being on the other end.
A thick, dark coil fell about him like a vine, almost devoid of life energy but none the weaker for it. Perhaps it led to a parent, or some other dark figure in his past, of whom, Bruck guessed, Kenobi remained consciously unaware. It wound partly around another of the thickest lines before trailing off into the dark reaches of the galaxy. The thick line whose attachment appeared nearly hidden within the withered vine sparked to brilliant life as soon as Bruck's attention fell upon it.
The reason for this change became clear as Bruck followed the strand of fate easily to its terminus. A cool wave of shock washed over him. How could he have not seen it before? The thick, dazzling line of fate ran directly to Bruck himself.
"You've no idea, do you?" Palpatine whispered to the image of Senator Organa on the vid screen before him. The young Prince's arrogance played directly into his hands.
"Foolish prince." The webbed flesh at the corners of his eyes tightened in a smile as he scrolled through the list of hidden vid feeds. The Senator from Alderaan should have screened his contractors with more care.
Though he did not yet know it, the Jedi Council's greatest advocate in the Senate soon would willingly cede control of his career to Palpatine.
He had foreseen as much. Still, he looked forward to the show.
Part 15
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