Master Apprentice
Archive
|
|
|||
(continued from part 15)
The scene before him felt both intensely familiar and alien. The same common room where he had spent so many evenings studying or reading mission material in the calm presence of his Master. Comforting memories, those. More recent memories washed past, of Qui-Gon in the throes of passion as Xanatos made love to him. Was that really nothing more than a crush quenched, his final passage into manhood?
More ghosts flitted by him in that instant--he and Qui-Gon having tea, speaking as equals, Xanatos convincing his Master to visit Iptura. He had started all this, hadn't he? The events that led him to Durante's trap. Images of that place, the nightmare of torture, rape, mutilation--it all came back in a raw flood of dark emotion, swirling around him as if the open door behind him had been a dam, holding back the flood.
Sounds from the kitchen brought him back to the here and now, and he stepped away from the entrance. The wash of feeling and memory had shattered his hard-won serenity in a matter of seconds, but it was too late to leave. He could do this. None of what happened was Kenobi's fault, he must remember that.
As if the thought conjured the man, Kenobi bustled into the room. He came around the corner carrying a tray of tea things Xanatos knew well. Kenobi himself wore a pale blue tunic and darker leggings. His golden hair fell loose and his feet were bare. The knot in Xanatos' chest tightened.
Focused on the task at hand, Kenobi did not even glance in his direction as he placed the things on the table. "I was starting to wonder if you'd make it, but it looks like you're just in time."
"What a charmingly domestic scene." Xanatos winced at the haughty sound of his voice, wishing he had concealed his distaste for the prostitute better than that. Kenobi looked up, the surprise on his face rather satisfying.
"Knight T'Crion," Kenobi said, quickly recovering his composure. "You look well."
"Thank you," Xanatos answered, moving closer. "I only came to tell you that Master Jinn has been delayed."
"That is very kind of you." Xanatos could read the confusion on Kenobi's face, but the whore covered it well. "Would you care to join me in some tea? It would be a shame to let it go cold."
Xanatos nodded and took a seat. "I know you must be wondering why he didn't com you."
"I suppose I've learned to expect the unexpected." Kenobi's face reddened slightly as he sat across from Xanatos and poured himself some tea. So at ease, as if he belonged in Qui-Gon's quarters. "Though it is pleasant to see you looking so well, whatever the circumstance."
"That is one reason I came to speak with you," he said. "I wanted to thank you for your part in my rescue, and apologize if I have given offense." Xanatos poured himself some tea in turn, the scent reminding him of a hundred relaxed evenings with his Master.
"Offense? I can't imagine why you would think you had offended me." Kenobi seemed honestly puzzled; Xanatos knew that Qui-Gon had not told Kenobi of Xanatos' suspicions. He should not have brought it up.
"I had thought you might be part of the conspiracy, and said as much to the Council." No sense in dancing around it now; Xanatos would drink his tea and say what he had come to say. Best get it done quickly. "I realize now I was wrong, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate all you have done to help us bring Durante to justice."
Kenobi sighed. "Not much help, I'm afraid. I didn't even know his last name." He sipped his tea, long lashes hiding his eyes. "I hope you find him."
"Don't worry. He will be captured, and he will pay for what he has done." Xanatos forced a smile and took a swallow of scalding tea, barely feeling it. "As will anyone else involved."
He knew that Kenobi had been cleared by the Council, but he could not resist adding that little barb to see how he took it. Could such youth and beauty truly exist without guile?
"Is there really some kind of vast conspiracy to smuggle those bug things? I thought it was just Orima striking out on his own." Kenobi seemed unnerved by the subject. Perhaps he only showed a lingering distaste for Durante.
"We don't really know for certain." Xanatos took another sip, unable to take his eyes off Kenobi, watching for any sign of guilt or fear. Even if the whore had nothing to do with his capture, Xanatos' life would be so much easier if he were gone. His Master was contemplating leaving the Order for this... person. The very idea was insane. Why was Xanatos the only one who saw that? "The Council suspects he may be linked to a group wishing to harm Force-users, so they certainly won't let this pass lightly."
"Surely no one is foolish enough to think they can defeat the Jedi." Kenobi seemed sincere, large eyes widening as he spoke, but wouldn't the ability to act convincingly be an asset to someone like him?
"You might be surprised how foolish people can be," Xanatos answered. "Even Jedi."
"Well, Jedi are only human-- or whatever. You know what I mean." Kenobi chuckled. "Could I get you something besides tea?"
Xanatos didn't like being treated like a guest in what had once been his own home, even by such an attractive and solicitous person as Kenobi. No, especially by Kenobi, who had so easily taken his place in Qui-Gon's life. Xanatos lifted his cup. "Do you know where this set came from?"
"No." Kenobi seemed to be aware of the change in his tone and grew serious. "Is it special?"
Xanatos grinned. "Jedi have few possessions, as a rule. This was a gift to my Master from his Master when he was Knighted. It was made by hand on Qui-Gon's home planet."
"I see." Kenobi looked away. Perhaps he sensed Xanatos' antipathy.
"Do you really?" Xanatos placed the cup on the table and glared at him. "All our lives, we train to protect the Galaxy and serve the Force. We live each day prepared to sacrifice everything for the sake of our fellow beings. I accept everything that happened to me because it is my duty as a Jedi. While you--"
Xanatos stood, his voice rising even as Kenobi flinched back in his seat."You tempt Qui-Gon away from his sacred commitment to the Jedi. If the Order losses him it will be a great loss to the Galaxy."
"I've never asked Qui-Gon to leave the Jedi." Kenobi's voice was quiet, barely registering in Xanatos' ears. He looked up, wide eyes moist with emotion. "Please believe me."
Oh, he was good, using the deceptively innocent-looking face to great effect, but Xanatos was not fooled.
"When you tire of my Master, what will be left for him?" He stalked around the table, his growing anger suffusing him with warmth. The familiar pain of his clothes rubbing against his too-sensitive flesh seemed to ease as the dark emotion filled him. For the first time in many tens he felt real strength wash through his flesh. "I'm sure a benefactor like Qui-Gon must seem like a gift from the gods to someone in your position, but if you care for him at all you should leave him. Now, before the damage you've done is irreparable."
Xanatos stood behind Kenobi now, and the whore seemed to have shrunk in his seat. He did not turn to face Xanatos when he spoke.
"The Order is very important to Qui-Gon--I would never force him to leave." Kenobi sat still, voice calm and low. "But he is a grown man, capable of making those decisions for himself, regardless of what I do."
"Don't play games with me," Xanatos hissed. "Qui-Gon may be a grown man, but that does not make him immune to the charms of someone like you."
Kenobi turned in his seat to look Xanatos in the eyes. Of course Qui-Gon had fallen for him--Xanatos could see the raw passion in him, the recklessness that would appeal to his Master as much as his physical beauty. There was a fire in those eyes when he spoke. "Qui-Gon does not respond well to pressure from anyone. Surely you know that."
Xanatos knew Qui-Gon's independent nature all too well, that much was true. But the very idea that his Master would consider leaving the Order for a whore--
A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts--a chime, slightly muffled. Familiar. The sound came from Kenobi's belt pouch. The chime of a hand-held comlink.
Kenobi stuck his hand in the pouch to silence it, but it was too late.
Xanatos knew.
He knew the lying whore had smuggled an outside comlink into the Temple, and hidden it from Qui-Gon. That much would have been easy enough, with Kenobi there to flaunt his flesh, tempting his Master away from his true path. Distracting him from Kenobi's treachery.
Xanatos struck quickly, grabbing Kenobi by the back of the tunic and pushing him over the table, off balance.
Xanatos rifled through the belt pouch easily enough. Kenobi did not fight him. He pulled out a pack of stimsticks, comlink chirping inside it.
"It--It's not what you think," Kenobi said, his voice strained.
Stimsticks bounced off the table as Xanatos dumped the pack beside Kenobi's head. The chirping stopped when the comlink hit. "You're not supposed to have a comlink."
"I got it at the Senate today," he said. Xanatos kept a hand on Kenobi's neck, pressing his cheek to the table next to a spreading puddle of spilt tea. "I haven't used it."
"Of course you haven't," Xanatos said, voice low and deadly. "You just blink those big eyes at the Council and I'm sure they'll believe you."
He leaned down to whisper in Kenobi's ear, the pressure of his body against the whore's back felt good, devoid of the discomfort he had come to expect from his limited contact with others. "But I don't."
"I don't understand." Kenobi shifted, trying to look at him. "What is it that you think I've done?"
Xanatos pulled him up so he could see his face, certain he could read a lie there if the whore dared to tell one. "You smuggled this in here, and told dear old dad where to find me, didn't you?"
"What?" Kenobi stared at him, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face.
"You don't know, do you?" Xanatos felt laughter bubble inside him, thick and dark as the swell of rage that flowed through him. It would be so satisfying to watch that angelic face twist when he heard the truth. "About your father."
"I never knew either of my parents," Kenobi answered. Xanatos could see his uneasiness grow as the line between his brows deepened.
"But you did know your father," he said. "And he knew you in way few fathers know their sons."
Kenobi looked away. "I only just received that comlink. I'm sure if you look you will see that I haven't used it."
"Who gave it to you, then?" Xanatos shook Kenobi by the tunic, feeling his strength return.
"A client," Kenobi answered, his face flushing with fear or shame, Xanatos couldn't tell which.
"A client?" Xanatos stepped back, releasing Kenobi but still watching him closely. "Does Qui-Gon know you're still seeing clients?"
The words found their mark; Kenobi couldn't look Xanatos in the eye.
"I'm not," Kenobi said as he moved out of Xanatos' reach. "But the fellow who gave me the comlink didn't know that. He slipped me the stimsticks and left-- I had no time to give them back or explain my new situation."
Xanatos smiled. Kenobi had become defensive, which told Xanatos that he felt guilty. "What, exactly, is this 'new situation' of yours?"
Kenobi looked away without speaking, cheeks reddening.
"Not selling it anymore, you mean?" Xanatos took in every detail of the man before him--compact, athletic build, slim hips, golden hair. The face was pretty enough, he supposed, if one went for the type. He could only assume Kenobi had a sharp wit, or Qui-Gon wouldn't tolerate his company for long. "What a shame."
Arms crossed across his chest, Kenobi stared past him. He did look appealing, and Xanatos had not been able to even pleasure himself since emerging from bacta. But the pain was gone now. It melted away as the heat of his anger grew--a gift born of the freedom to feel the negative emotions he had fought so long to deny.
Xanatos reached for the comlink to check its codes. It was new--the latest model--it still bore the plastic shields of its original packaging. It held no records, not even the origin of the com Kenobi had not answered. All of which proved nothing. It could have been wiped, or it could be modified not to keep com logs.
Kenobi glared at him across the distance between them, sullen. "Satisfied?"
"No." Xanatos put the comlink down and grinned at Kenobi, not even trying to hide the lust he felt. If his anger, his hatred were a sea, desire had formed like foam at the shoreline. "It will take more than that to satisfy me."
Kenobi took a small step toward the door, putting the edge of the table between them. "I think you should go."
"I belong here. You're the one who should leave, Kenobi." Xanatos moved around the table, brushing his thigh against the corner. An hour ago it would have been agony; he barely noticed it now. "Except you can't leave, can you? Not unless someone else opens the door."
With what appeared to be Force-assisted speed, Kenobi ran for the Padawan room. Xanatos got there first, though he scarcely knew how. His palm slapped the pad just ahead of Kenobi's, activating the door mechanism. Xanatos stepped aside, bowing obsequiously.
"Be my guest," he said. "But you must realize there is no door in these rooms that won't take my command over yours." Xanatos felt certain that was true. Kenobi seemed to accept it--that was all that mattered. He looked so resigned when he spoke, Xanatos found him nearly irresistible.
"What do you want?" The words came softly but the voice was calm.
"You think you can win me over? Control me the way you do Qui-Gon or get me to stand up for you like Bruck?" Xanatos smiled, feeling the strength of this new power suffuse every limb. Kenobi stepped back and swallowed hard when he felt the wall behind him. Fear radiated from him, so strong Xanatos could almost smell it filling the air between them.
"It doesn't have to be like this," Kenobi whispered. "Qui-Gon could come back any moment. We could meet--"
"I've found the extent of your loyalty rather quickly," Xanatos whispered back. "Will you do anything I ask?"
Kenobi swallowed hard, not even daring to look at Xanatos. When the answer finally came, it was scarcely audible. "Yes."
"You want to make this easy, don't you?" Xanatos smiled, deliberately relaxing his body language in order to give no indication of what was to come. He struck quickly, knotting his fingers in Kenobi's hair and pulling hard. "Well, I don't."
Xanatos pressed close for a kiss, biting Kenobi's closed lips until he tasted blood. He fought back, kicking Xanatos between the legs and clawing at the side of his face. Xanatos released him, growling in pain as he half-slumped to the floor.
The discomfort passed quickly; Xanatos barely felt it before it was gone. He was achingly hard--a sensation he remembered as if from another life. Kenobi had disappeared, though Xanatos knew he had nowhere to go.
He stood slowly, laughter dripping from his lips like pus oozing from a wound. "No need to be shy, Kenobi. Surely this is nothing new to you."
Xanatos found the whore in the kitchen, armed with a carving knife. Blood trickled down the front of his tunic and tinged his bared teeth crimson. His chest rose with rapid breathing, but his shoulders seemed steady, body poised in the ready stance of the simpler Jedi forms.
"Qui-Gon has been teaching you, I see." Xanatos approached slowly, circling to the side. Kenobi eased away, further from the only entrance. Good. "This should be fun."
"Don't do this," Kenobi said. "Think of Qui-Gon."
"Yes. Qui-Gon." Xanatos sighed. He couldn't think of Qui-Gon. All he could feel was the delicious thrum of darkness rushing through him, washing away all thought, reason and training. "Suppose he should come back to find you attacking his Padawan with knife? That would be something to see. Who do you think he would believe? A fellow Jedi, or the son of a kleranom smuggler?"
Xanatos saw the shock registering on Kenobi's face, even as he attacked. It only slowed Kenobi a fraction of a second, but that proved enough. Xanatos gripped the knife with his mechanical fingers. He pressed Kenobi to the cabinetry, too close a space for him to manage a proper blow, though he tried.
His prosthetic hand slid down the blade, letting it cut the glove and scoring the metal beneath. Xanatos squeezed the hand that held the knife until he felt the bones grinding together in his grasp. Kenobi cried out as the knife dropped from his fingers.
Depriving him of his weapon did not keep him from fighting, but Xanatos' training was far superior and the Force flowed in him, dark and powerful. He felt invulnerable, deflecting every blow and striking a few of his own in between. Kenobi, bruised and tiring, finally gave him the opening he wanted.
He caught Kenobi between the legs with his prosthetic hand, squeezing until he screamed. Xanatos pulled his head back by the hair, watching tears of pain form in his eyes.
"You know the best part about having a prosthetic?" Xanatos whispered. "Increased tensile strength."
Kenobi screamed again and Xanatos released him, knowing it would be a moment before he could collect himself well enough to fight. Xanatos wanted the little bastard to struggle, wanted to show him he was nothing. Less than nothing, compared to a Jedi.
Xanatos dragged him into his Master's sleeproom and flung him against the end of the bed. He lay there, shaking.
"You have no right to be here, Kenobi. I'll make sure that Qui-Gon knows all about your little hidden comlink." Xanatos kicked him in the flank.
"I helped you." Kenobi ground his words out through the pain-gritted teeth, less whine in voice than Xanatos expected. "I haven't done anything to you!"
"Not directly, perhaps," Xanatos admitted. "But your father did, thanks to you. And I'm going to make you pay for it."
"No." Kenobi closed his eyes and shook his head, still struggling to get up on all fours. His voice broke in a sob, sending a dark thrill through Xanatos. Tears ran down his face, twisted now with a pain that went deeper than his injuries. "He's not my father. Not possible. No."
Xanatos laughed, feeling it bubble up from his belly, as thick as oil. Kenobi's nose was running, face red and beginning to swell from the blows he'd taken. Not so pretty now. He deserved this misery and more, for what he'd done. For what Xanatos had suffered. "Durante as much as told me so. I told the Council. Qui-Gon knows, too. Couldn't you tell he was keeping something from you?"
"No!" Kenobi shouted the word. "No, you're crazy... I would have known! Qui would have..."
"Told you?" Xanatos laughed again, crouching by his fallen plaything, enjoying his pain. Grabbing him by the throat, he pressed him to the floor. There was no more need for words, even if Kenobi could form them.
Xanatos ripped open Kenobi's tunic with his free hand, the prosthetic squeezing his throat hard enough to change the color of his face from white to red, then faintly purple. Kenobi clawed at the arm, but his reach wasn't quite long enough for him to get a hold on Xanatos, or strike at his face.
"He would do his duty by you--Qui-Gon keeps his promises--but do you really think he could care for someone who has done what you've done?" It felt so good to hold Kenobi's life in his hands, to know he was completely at his mercy. Xanatos had never known a feeling so glorious, so difficult to quantify.
At last he relaxed his grip, knowing Kenobi would be too occupied with retching and gasping for breath to put up much of a struggle for the moment. Time enough to pull down the whore's leggings, and free the necessary equipment from his own. No need for precautions-- they'd both been screened by the Temple Healers, and probably been had by the same half of the Galaxy, anyway.
Something inside Xanatos lurched involuntarily, burning the back of his throat with bile. The urgency of his lust ebbed, and the dark power flowing around him sputtered.
His prosthetic hand still rested on Kenobi's throat, dark and alien against the pale flesh. Strings trailing from the torn glove, he passed the thumb across Kenobi's moist, gasping lips.
"It's the best money can buy," he whispered. "Almost as sensitive as the real thing."
An echo of those words, spoken in another voice, rang through his memory. Orima standing over him, taunting him, glorying in his suffering, his pain. Xanatos balanced on the razor's edge between the Moment and the Memory, piercing through the darkness to cut his soul.
Kenobi turned his head and coughed violently, still unable to resist, but Xanatos left his leggings on. He made no move to continue the assault.
Couldn't have if he'd wanted to, in fact.
Xanatos lurched away from Kenobi, retching. What had he done? Had he become the monster now?
Nerveless fingers clutched the door frame as he struggled to his feet. He ran for the exit, every limb shaking, feeling the darkness twist inside him, ravenous and searing. The pain washed over him again, every nerve in agony.
It scarcely slowed him down. He didn't stop until the lift door had closed behind him, leaving him alone in his dark, twisted misery.
He was no better than Durante--worse, for he should have had the Light inside him, not this seething, pustulant darkness that destroyed whatever it touched. He fell to his knees, leaning against the wall of the lift, and wept.
"Sweet Force, what have I done?"
Soon Qui-Gon, the Council--everyone would know what an evil thing he had become. A creature of darkness. They would lock him away as the hopeless case he was--a Knight truly fallen, with no way back to the Light, no recourse.
Except, maybe, one.