Help Me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, You're My Only Ho - cont'd
(continued from part 14)
"It still burns quite a lot in the fingers," Xanatos said in an indifferent tone.
"Really? That should have stopped altogether by now." Healer Phol looked up from examining the connections of his prosthetic arm. "The nerve attachments seem to have healed thoroughly."
Xanatos shrugged as he lowered his sleeve. "I'm sure it's nothing."
He stood and began slipping a black gauntlet over his mechanical hand. When Healer Phol laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, he was not prepared for it. She noticed his wince of pain and jerked away as if the touch had burned her. "Are you still so sensitive?"
"The analgesic helped a lot, but I've run out." Xanatos shrugged. He kept his head lowered as he pulled on the glove, to keep the healer from the reading the lie on his face. "It's much better now."
"Knight T'Crion, you should not lie to your healer."
"I will be fine," he said.
"I've no doubt of that," she answered. "But we don't know what effects the drugs they gave you may have had. Perhaps this is one and it will pass, but we cannot know that if you are not honest."
Xanatos took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It will pass."
Phol shook her head. "I should run more tests. We can get to the bottom of this."
Xanatos grinned at her as he pulled on his Jedi robes. "Not today. I'm busy."
"The Council?"
One curt nod and he was heading for the door.
"Have you seen the Mind Healer?"
Phol's question reached him as he stepped over the threshold. Without looking back, he raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Busy!"
He had to meet Qui-Gon for first meal before going to the Council Chamber, and his trip to the Healer's Dome had made him late. Just as well, because he didn't know what he would say to his old Master that he hadn't said before.
As foolish as it was of Qui-Gon Jinn to trust that Kenobi character, Xanatos knew he would not listen. Maybe the Council would. They had to believe him; Xanatos had to make them believe.
Kenobi's deposition had not taken as long as Bruck expected. The whole affair seemed perfunctory; the aide assigned to record it seemed half asleep, and the one asking the questions seemed in a bit of a hurry. Bruck studied him with his special sight, but only found that little importance had been placed on this particular deposition.
These details did not escape Kenobi, either. When they took a brief break while the final holo compiled, Kenobi grinned at him, somewhat wryly.
"For this I've been kept in protective custody for weeks, confined to quarters at the Temple?"
"The presence of supporting testimony by a non-Jedi is quite valuable, Kenobi," Bruck remarked. "There are those in the Senate unwilling to trust Jedi information alone."
Kenobi laughed at that. "The Jedi must have been desperate to need testimony from someone like me. Not that I'm not grateful to be here, mind you."
"You don't miss your home?" Bruck watched the play of light within the filaments of fate surrounding Kenobi. Perhaps thoughts of Iptura might reveal something. The dark rope twined about the fate-line connecting them pulsed slightly before Kenobi answered.
"Iptura was never my home," Kenobi said quietly. "It was the place I've always been, but I never belonged there."
"Coruscant suits you better?" Bruck knew he was pushing his luck.
Kenobi grinned but didn't answer.
The walkway had grown much busier as the morning progressed and now a steady flow of beings moved past, engaged in whatever business brought them here. Bruck watched as their eyes passed over both of them, the striking civilian in somber clothing and the humanoid Jedi of uncertain species. He allowed himself to watch their lines - those invisible attachments to everyone whose lives they had affected: beings they loved, beings they hated, beings they hardly knew whose decisions had affected their lives. An intricate web that bound them all together.
He could feel the feather-light filaments caressing him as they passed, the ephemeral tendrils of their regard. Most seemed accustomed to their surroundings, barely noting the beings around them. Bruck watched the strands, trying to discern the context of their connections from the colors sparking within them.
A tall Anomid strolled into view, obviously enjoying a stroll through government buildings as a novel experience, silver-blue eyes missing nothing.
When those remarkable eyes looked at Bruck, he noted something else in his other-vision: a thread from her reaching out to him, sparkling bright lavender.
She shifted her long gray tresses back over her shoulder, revealing a long, graceful neck. Bruck returned her smile with ease; she seemed the most open-spirited being he had encountered this morning.
Her steps slowed as she approached, and Bruck read in the motions of her long, slender fingers an unusually intimate greeting. Uncertain of the proper answer in Anomid sign language, Bruck offered a polite but reserved response.
She smiled again and touched her lips as she slipped past in a flurry of synthsilk robes.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat pointedly and shot Bruck a sly glance. "Anomids are very sociable."
"Yes," Bruck answered, feeling oddly pleased with himself. The lavender thread had not connected, but now he knew it was the color of sexual interest.
Obi-Wan chuckled under his breath, but his face suddenly took on a studied, neutral look. Bruck noticed a well-dressed man coming their way. He seemed to recognize Kenobi and altered his course to greet them. Bruck stood as the man approached and Kenobi followed suit.
"Good to see you, Kenobi," the man said. His demeanor seemed very stiff and formal, but Bruck could see deeper than that, and what he saw troubled him.
"Likewise, Senator," Obi-Wan answered. "Knight Chun-al-Leem, this is Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan."
"Greetings." Bruck sensed something odd, but he had little time to examine his feelings as the Senator turned to him.
"Please give my best to Master Jinn." The Senator turned and grasped Kenobi's hand, though Kenobi had not proffered it. "And good luck to you, Kenobi."
With a whirl of his stylish cape, the Senator was gone.
It did not escape Bruck's notice that a crease had appeared between Kenobi's brows, nor did he miss that when Kenobi coughed into his left hand, his right slipped carefully into his belt pouch.
"I met him briefly at the Chancellor's gala," Kenobi said. "Didn't seem to like me much, but was never less than polite about it."
"I see," Bruck said, though inside he begged to differ. He had seen the amethyst line of lust that joined them, pulsing darkly. It seemed the Senator liked Kenobi quite a lot more than he let show, and Kenobi had a few secrets of his own.
"With respect, Masters, you were not present during my conversations with Orima Durante." Xanatos kept his voice and body language calm, though his heart beat like the wings of a wild bird in a cage. "I am surprised that you would doubt the testimony of an experienced Knight concerning what was said in truth and what was meant to deceive."
"We acknowledge that Kenobi could be the smuggler's son," Mace Windu began, "but there is no evidence that he had anything to do with the exposure of your mission or your capture."
"I am certain he is involved. The loyalties of such a person are surely not above questioning."
The assembled Masters looked at him steadily, impassive except for Yoda, whose ears seemed to droop with pity.
"Examined thoroughly Knight Chun-al-Leem's evidence, we have." The little troll seemed to be looking into Xanatos more than merely at him. "Incontrovertible, it is."
Xanatos glanced over their faces. In no more than a heartbeat, he took in the scene - the looks, solemn or pitying, all around the room. All of them focused on him. Even Qui-Gon, standing near the door. Xanatos didn't need to look at his Master; he knew all too well what expression would be etched into his features.
Exactly the same look that Xanatos himself now wore. A mask of serenity separated him from all of them.
For a moment the Council Room stood silent; Xanatos could hear the creak of his leather gauntlet as he clenched his manufactured hand.
"Bruck is scarcely recognizable after all he has been through. How can you trust his memories of things that happened in the grip of so severe an illness as you say he suffered?"
"Suffered, you both have." Yoda placed both his claws on his gimmer stick.
"We have examined the data trail very carefully." Adi Gallia's voice sounded uncharacteristically gentle.
Xanatos ground his teeth together, biting back a sharp retort. If they were bent on treating him like a traumatized youngling, the least he could do was refrain from behaving like one.
"We re-examined everything when we were informed of your opinion on the matter," Mace said. "We have been unable to trace Kenobi's parentage, but we are absolutely certain that he had no access to Temple comm units before you were captured. The evidence supporting Bruck's claim is sound. Your entire mission brief was uploaded to a comm dump on the holonet from your quarters. There is no question about that much."
Xanatos took a deep breath. Did they really expect him to believe that Bruck... but the Temple had the best engineers available for tracing such things. Perhaps he had allowed his hatred for Durante to blind him. And even if Kenobi was of Durante's blood, there was no rule that all sons must be loyal to their fathers. Xanatos knew that better than most.
"I see." Xanatos took another breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his mind. Could he have been mistaken? How could he trust anything if he could not trust his own instincts? Perhaps his feelings had overwhelmed his judgment. "Is there anything else you require of me, Masters?"
"We have made a report of your evidence to the Senate Committee investigating Kleranom smuggling," Mace said. "It is likely that you will be called to testify."
"I understand." Xanatos bowed his head curtly, hiding the sudden weakness he felt inside. Nothing made sense to him. "Thank you for hearing me out, Masters."
A look passed between Master Yoda and Master Windu just as Xanatos turned to go. Yoda spoke.
"Knight T'Crion."
Xanatos paused once more, shields practically vibrating from the effort it took to conceal his confused emotions. His face remained a mask of calm.
"Survived a terrible ordeal, you have," Yoda said. "Seen Healer Tand, you have not."
Xanatos smiled. He had expected this. "I have been occupied with training and adapting to the use of my prosthetic. I have reserved a time to meet with him tomorrow."
Yoda's ears twitched, but he said nothing.
"See that you don't miss this one," Master Windu said. "May the Force be with you."
Xanatos nodded and turned to the door, knowing Qui-Gon would follow. His Master would hover, unable to find words to console him. Yet Xanatos suspected that Qui-Gon and the Council had been right to treat him like a child. He still felt so very, very angry, and not since he'd left the crèche had releasing his emotions to the Force been this difficult.
But he was not a child; he was a Jedi Knight, tried and tested. He could admit his mistakes; he could accept that he needed help.
Something felt deeply wrong, though he could not decide what it was. As a Jedi he had learned to trust his feelings, but what if his feelings had begun to lead him astray?
When the Council room door shut behind them, Qui-Gon placed a hand on Xanatos' shoulder. The gesture was no doubt intended to be a comfort, but it rather hurt.
"Everything is wrong, Qui-Gon. Everything just feels so wrong." Xanatos fought to control his voice, though his throat ached with the need to weep. "The Temple, the Council, even my clothes, my body -- it's all wrong. This is not my life. This is not me."
"Padawan."
Xanatos could hear the compassion in his Master's voice, though he could not bring himself to look at him at the moment. Qui-Gon's hand moved from his shoulder down to the prosthetic.
"Come with me," he said.
Xanatos allowed himself to be led, gave himself over to the man he had known and trusted longer than anyone else in the Galaxy. He walked alongside his Master, trying not to shake, or give any outward sign of his distress. Qui-Gon will know what to do, he told himself. His faith in his Master had not been so blind for many years; it felt right to trust him, though everything else felt out of joint.
Soon, they both entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains. This did not surprise Xanatos, though he had paid no attention to their path through the Temple.
Qui-Gon brought him to a familiar, secluded place where they had meditated together often when he was Qui-Gon's newly chosen Padawan. Xanatos sank to his knees.
"I've tried to meditate," he whispered. "I... It doesn't work. The Force feels distant and strange to me."
"Your connection to the Force will improve, Xan. Never doubt it." Qui-Gon settled in beside him. "The drugs you were given have affected your midichlorians. I will help you meditate for now."
"I hate this weakness," Xan said, still trying to fight back angry tears. "I should have been stronger. I should have been able to stop him." He could feel his voice getting louder, more strained, but he couldn't stop it now the words were coming.
"Xan-"
"If I could have saved Fawks, it would have been worth it." Xanatos hated his own voice, the weakness in his whining, his tears. He had finally lost of control of everything, even himself. "I was too weak! What is the point of being a Jedi, if I can't even stop someone like Durante from..."
There it was, and he couldn't even say it. He didn't have to, because Qui-Gon held him just as he had when he was little more than a child.
Xanatos did not believe he had ever wept like that in his life - at least not since well before he became a Padawan. He wept until his head ached and his eyes burned. His Master stroked his hair and held him until there were no more tears left to cry.
Then he felt it - Qui-Gon's presence through the Force, soothing him, guiding him. In that embrace he could touch the Force again, with his Master's familiar strength to lead him.
Soon he felt calm, more at ease in his spirit than he had felt since everything had changed. The Force had been there all along, he realized. He had felt it, but it had been different. Not this cool wash of calm and love, but something else, distorted and strange.
Qui-Gon led him in meditation, and everything seemed to make sense -- calm, at peace. Xanatos felt the energy of the plants growing around him, the Force-presence of his Master by his side, and he knew it would all be well, one day. Durante, Kenobi. Bruck. Somehow, it would all be well.
He was not sure how much time had passed in this state when the sound of a comlink chime roused him. Qui-Gon smiled at him and answered.
"Jinn."
"The Council requests your presence, Master Jinn." Xanatos did not recognize the voice.
"Understood." Qui-Gon turned off the link and gave Xanatos a wry look. "Shall I meet you again later? Perhaps in one of the salles after latemeal?"
"I would like that." Xanatos smiled at his former Master, feeling oddly light.
Qui-Gon smiled back. As he stood to go, his comlink chimed again.
"Jinn."
"Kenobi and I have returned from the Senate." Xanatos recognized the voice, and looked away.
"Is he with you?"
"No," Bruck answered. "He wanted to go back to your quarters. Said he had something to do."
"Thank you, Bruck." Qui-Gon switched off the comlink. "Blast!"
"Something the matter, Master?" Xanatos asked. The sound of Bruck's voice -- at once familiar and strange -- had unsettled him, but he chose not to show it.
"Obi-Wan will be expecting me, but I cannot keep the Council waiting. It might be important." He winced at his comlink. "I should com him."
"I thought he was locked out of the com." Xanatos kept his tone light, but he could not deny the uneasiness creeping back into his mind.
"He can answer unsecured com messages, and I recently authorized him to contact the commissary." Qui-Gon proffered a hand to help Xanatos to his feet. "He is truly blameless in what happened, Xan."
Xanatos took Qui-Gon's hand and stood. "I think I can see that, now." He brushed some bits of grass off his leggings. "I owe you both an apology."
"Kind of you, but unnecessary," Qui-Gon said.
"Maybe as far as you're concerned," Xanatos said. "But Kenobi helped to rescue me, and I have publicly maligned him."
"I doubt he even knows about any of that." Qui-Gon started making his way back to the Council Room, comlink in hand.
"Let me tell him you'll be late," Xanatos said. Perhaps he felt uncertain of the impulse, but the meditation had given him some clarity. "A first step in putting some things behind me."
"I understand, but..." Qui-Gon paused briefly as if considering something. "I never told him of your suspicions about Durante being his father. It would only upset him."
"I only mean to thank him for his part in my rescue. No need for more than that."
"If you're certain..."
"I am," Xanatos said, trying to hide the swell of emotion inside him. He released it to the Force, feeling the sweetness of it as he touched its presence. He would do whatever it took to keep this connection to the Force open; he would fight to stay in the Light.
They walked together in silence until their paths diverged. Qui-Gon paused.
"Perhaps you should consider seeing Bruck later. He has been very concerned about you."
"One thorny mess at a time, please." Xanatos kept his tone light, but in truth he did not think he could face Bruck. He had no idea what he would say to him, or even how he felt about what had happened. Not yet.
Qui-Gon nodded mutely and they parted company. Xanatos felt him go, like a twist to his insides, as if the bond that connected them stretched thin with distance as Qui-Gon headed back to the Council Room. Xanatos felt heavier with every step toward the quarters he had once shared with his Master.
Now Kenobi was there, taking the place in Qui-Gon's life that Xanatos had coveted for so long. What was he doing, going there now?
Xanatos groped for the feeling of calm that had been so present in him before, but found only a tangle of impulses. The pain was still there, the confusion.
Entering the lift, he took a moment to clear his mind, grasping for the peace he had felt, the lightness in the Force. Yes, it was there; he held it tightly, a flickering flame in the maelstrom of thought and emotion.
Calm. He could hold it. With a slow exhalation he released his confused emotions. Peace.
Even in this calm state, the pain was never far away. Every step ached, every inch of his body burned with the phantom pain. The few beings he passed along the way took no notice of him; there must not be anything exceptional in his presence, even with the pain. It must be all in his mind.
He could do this. Deliver a simple message. Be polite to Kenobi. The whore was not responsible for what Xanatos had endured, no matter who his parents might be. True, he stood between Xanatos and Qui-Gon; he was the reason Qui-Gon now contemplated leaving the Order.
Qui-Gon leaving the Order? The very idea caused Xanatos pain. How could the man who taught him to serve the Force simply abandon his commitment?
The door to his old quarters loomed ahead, but the sight of it brought Xanatos no comfort. He didn't bother with the chime; Kenobi could not open the door, and Xanatos felt certain his palm print had never been deleted from the controls.
He palmed it open and stepped inside.
Part 16
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