Help Me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, You're My Only Ho - cont'd
(continued from part 26)
Bail Organa stepped out in front of the vid crews assembled around the platform in front of the east entrance to the Senate Complex. Many years of hiding his true feelings made it easy enough to look calm and relaxed, though inside he was a tangle of nerves. At least the Chancellor was occupied with the Jedi hearing, and would know nothing of this until he emerged.
Bail suspected it would be quite the surprise.
He took a deep breath, and began. “As most of you know, I have served Alderaan in the Galactic Senate for several years. All that time, I have been keeping a secret, hiding it from my family, and from those I serve.
“In my private life, I prefer the company of men.
“To many of you this fact is inconsequential, but to the people of Alderaan, it is not. This admission will likely result in my being relieved of office and recalled to Alderaan. I am willing to accept the judgment of my people on the matter of my voting record and my service on their behalf.
“However, I assure you that my private life has never influenced any decisions of state. Until now.”
Bail paused to breathe, noting the new intensity appearing on some of the journalists’ faces. They expected something salacious, and Bail intended to deliver.
“Evidence of my preferences recently fell into the hands of Chancellor Palpatine, and he made it clear to me that I would be exposed unless I followed his lead on certain political matters.”
Muttering in many languages broke out amongst those assembled. Bail smiled and waited for silence.
“It seems he both underestimated my dedication to my constituents and overestimated my shame in who I am.”
Suddenly, they were all shouting questions at once. He held up his hands and waited for the roar to die down before he spoke.
“I have proof of his manipulations, in the form of financial records as well as recorded conversations between the Chancellor and myself.” Bail held up his data pad. “I am now transmitting this evidence to all of you on open channel 24EllZee.”
Complete havoc erupted around him as some journalists shouted to each other and rushed to re-transmit the data to their bosses while others began scouring through the information on the spot.
By the time he had begun answering their questions, Bail could not suppress his smile. Though some were rude and dismissive and others were crude, none of it fazed his joy. For good or ill, Bail Organa was a free man.
Larkin tested the steriplas shield on his broken wrist by knocking the med droid in the head with it as hard as he could. Barely a twinge.
He was already out the door and comming a couple of his old merc buddies before the droid chirped its even-toned, “Have a nice day, sir.”
Chass and Burl were up for a bit of mischief, and more than willing when Larkin told them what he had in mind. They were already on their way to the clinic to pick him up, and Larkin would take them to Kenobi’s rooms. Even if he was gone when they got there, Burl could track him — that’s what the green-skinned mercenary did best.
When Larkin found that snippy little cockerel of a whore, he would get what was coming to him.
The Council had assembled in anticipation of their arrival, but Qui-Gon had no intention of seeing them. Let them hear the truth of their exploits from Tahl – after all, it was her hard work that had uncovered the core of this plot. He would go before them later, if necessary; for now, he had to find Xanatos.
“I’ll let you slink off to the Dome,” Tahl said, “if you take this ornery man with you.” She had her arm around Rensi to support him as they came down the ramp. He was pale and a little wobbly.
“I’m fine, woman,” Rensi said. He lurched a bit sideways as he turned to face his wife. “I’ll mend well enough with some rest. I don’t need a Healer.”
“I’m sure you’re right, friend,” Qui-Gon said as he stepped to his other side to steady him. “But you’d best let her have her way in this.”
Rensi laughed. “He has known you a long time, hasn’t he?”
Tahl smiled and kissed him lightly before she pulled away. “I’ll show them what we have, then come find you at the Dome.”
Qui-Gon nodded. Tahl had extensive files documenting her investigation with all the meticulous attention to detail of a Jedi. The trip back to Coruscant had given Qui-Gon time to add his own report to the mix. The word of a disgraced former Jedi and a disgraced current Jedi might not seem like much, but the evidence was too strong to ignore.
A team had been sent from the Dome to meet the group, and Qui-Gon helped Rensi to a hover chair. It seemed to him that Tahl had made a good choice in her mate. Rensi was brave and compassionate without an ounce of arrogance in him.
Unbidden, Qui-Gon’s mind filled with Obi-Wan, such a strange mix of confidence and vulnerability. He remembered Obi-Wan’s overconfidence when they first met – the almost strident pride he took in his considerable charms – as well as the desperate young man who had wept in his arms a ten ago. The man who trusted him with a truth Qui-Gon chose not to believe.
“You’ll find him.” Rensi said, hovering beside him.
Qui-Gon glanced at him, puzzled.
Rensi shrugged. “Sometimes I pick up flashes from people, and you’ve been thinking of the same man since we left Mallum IV. Not your Padawan, though?”
“No.” Perhaps it was odd that this invasion of his privacy did not disturb him, but it didn’t. If any civilian understood what it meant for a Jedi to fall in love, it would be Rensi. “I don’t even know where to look for him.”
Rensi nodded. “But you’ll find him. I know you will.”
Qui-Gon gave him a closed smile and a quick nod, hoping that would end the subject. Rensi did not seem the sentimental type, and Qui-Gon found his baseless prognostication disturbing.
Rensi took the hint, not bothering to hide his smile at the Jedi’s discomfiture. “So many different species make up the Jedi Order, yet you all have one trait in common.”
Qui-Gon knew Rensi was waiting for him to respond, and he almost didn’t, just to spite him. Sighing to show his awareness of Rensi’s game, he said, “And that is?”
“Your blinkered inability to acknowledge the gifts the Force bestows outside your narrow teachings.” Rensi’s grin broadened. “But I have a gift for you, Master Jinn – when you find him, I will not remind you of this conversation. I will gloat in silence.”
They had entered the dome, and Healers came to meet them. Qui-Gon was all too ready to give over Rensi to their ministrations – that knowing grin of his had become unsettling.
When he entered Xanatos’ room, he found only Knight Chun, sitting in a meditative pose upon his sleep couch. Qui-Gon was about to retreat quietly when Bruck opened his eyes and beckoned to him.
“Xanatos has gone to testify before a closed Senate Hearing. They would not release me to accompany him, but he seems to be maintaining equilibrium despite the circumstances.” Bruck closed his eyes again, concentrating. “The politicians did not make it easy.”
Qui-Gon sensed their connection in the Force, though it was not, strictly speaking, a Force bond. The Light and love were palpable. He waited a moment in silence, watching Bruck, sensing what he could from the Force. Whatever distress there had been seemed to pass.
Bruck opened his eyes. “The hearing is over,” he said. “He should be back soon.”
“How is he?”
“Well enough.” Bruck’s cool eyes turned to him, and Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder. “He commed you several times.”
“I was indisposed,” Qui-Gon answered, ignoring the hint of recrimination in Bruck’s tone. “I came as quickly as I could, and with data that may help in Xanatos’ treatment.”
“I thought you had gone in search of Kenobi.”
“I ... it’s a rather long story.” Qui-Gon did his best to hit the high points, watching Knight Chun’s eyes widen satisfyingly as he spoke. “I sent the data I found directly to Healer Phol as soon as we were in transmission range.”
Bruck stared at him mutely for a moment, and Qui-Gon realized he had turned his attention elsewhere. “Something is wrong.”
Bruck stood up and rushed to the room’s storage cabinet to collect his boots. “Comm Healer Tand – find out what Xanatos is doing! Please, Qui-Gon. He’s trying to shut me out.”
Qui-Gon turned toward the door, meaning to find a comm, but found Healer Phol blocking his path.
“Tand just reported that the two of them are on their way,” she said. “He is in good hands.”
Bruck approached the door, somewhat unsteadily, and sat in a chair by Xanatos’ bed.
“Yes, of course,” he said. Bruck closed his eyes for a moment. “He is open to me again. I . . . overreacted, I suppose.”
Phol placed a hand on his shoulder. “No need to worry. He will be back very soon.”
“Master Jinn, would you like to accompany me to meet his transport?”
“Of course.” Qui-Gon grinned at Bruck’s attempt to do an end run around his Healer. “Provided Healer Phol agrees.”
The Healer frowned. “You’re still weak.”
“But I am also essentially healed,” Bruck replied. “And how am I to grow stronger if I am constantly confined?”
Phol shook her head. “We don’t know what caused your attack in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”
“I had a dream that I was drowning. That was all. Hardly the medical emergency you made it out to be.” Bruck stood and grasped Qui-Gon’s arm to steady himself. “Master Jinn will look after me.”
“Master Jinn hasn’t done a great job of looking after himself, of late.” The words came out more playful than harsh, and Qui-Gon could tell she wanted to let them go.
“I’ll see to it he comes back in one piece,” he said.
“Very well.” Phol looked a little cross, but she let them pass.
They took a shortcut to the transport bay; by the time they had reached the waiting area, Bruck’s gait had become steady and strong. Qui-Gon suspected he might be drawing on the energy that Lenrebis derived directly from light. He walked past vid screens blaring weather and traffic reports and chose a seat in the observation bay, where the light of Coruscant’s sun would touch his face.
He settled into the seat with a satisfied sigh, but Qui-Gon saw the line between his pale brows.
“You’re still worried about him.”
“Yes.” Bruck closed his eyes. “He feels a little … off.”
“Testifying must have been difficult for him,” Qui-Gon said. “I’m sorry I did not get to speak with him before he left.”
“He’s very strong.” Bruck spoke quietly, eyes still closed. “But he is more troubled by what he has done than by what was done to him.”
“That is often the way of such things,” Qui-Gon said, thinking of how his disbelief in Obi-Wan haunted him while his distress aboard the slaver’s ship had all but faded entirely. “It is our choices that define us, not our misfortunes.”
“Yes.” Bruck turned to Qui-Gon, his gaze curiously intense. “Choices.”
Xanatos took slow, deep breaths to calm himself as he boarded the transport. Palpatine had just handed him the opportunity to set things right, to prove his worth to the Council and bring the ledger into balance. When he brought Orima Durante to justice, he would be free. That was all that was needed to answer the questioning looks of other Jedi, to prove himself in their eyes.
But he had to be careful; he relaxed and let a bit of his love pour through his bond with Bruck. He led his thoughts deliberately away from the data chip resting in his belt pouch, away from Palpatine’s instructions.
He glanced over at Tand, who smiled at him.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Xanatos said, flashing a grin in Tand’s direction.
“Many people find it a relief to talk about their experiences openly,” Tand said. “Perhaps if you had attended one of the mind healing sessions I scheduled, you’d have realized that before now.”
Xanatos bit back the caustic reply that burned on his lips. “Perhaps we could talk – just you and me – when we get back to the Temple?”
Tand’s brows shot up in an almost comical look of surprise before he mastered his expression. “I’d like that, Xan.” He placed a hand on Xanatos’ shoulder. “You’ve had a breakthrough today, I think. It would be good to talk about it a little more.”
Xan gave a tight-lipped smile and resisted the urge to punch the Mind Healer square in the face. He’d get to do that soon enough.
The transport glided to a stop and the passengers filed out. The first person Xanatos saw when he stepped off the transport was Bruck. Qui-Gon stood beside him. He fought down a wave of emotion as he approached them.
“I’m surprised Phol let you meet the transport,” he said, as he took Bruck in a light embrace. Allowing only a short brush of their bodies, he pulled back.
“I threatened to hold my breath.” Bruck smiled at him.
“You’ve done very well, Padawan,” Qui-Gon stepped forward, his hand on Xan’s shoulder heavy and warm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”
“I’m sure you had your reasons.” The words did not sound as pleasant as Xanatos had intended. Bruck glanced at Qui-Gon.
“Qui-Gon has found information that will help Phol in your treatment.” Bruck sounded excited. “He has only just returned.”
Xanatos smiled, but he had no reason to believe that science could cure what ailed his soul. He’d already found another solution, one more to his liking. He bowed to Qui-Gon. “I am in your debt, Master.”
“Perhaps we should go back to the Dome and see if Phol has found anything useful in the data you acquired,” Bruck said. Xanatos thought he caught a whiff of worry along their bond, and immediately sent a rush of love in Bruck’s direction.
“I’ve agreed to take midmeal with Healer Tand,” Xanatos said, kindly. “I have some things I want to discuss with him, but I will be back by your side this evening.”
Bruck smiled at him and glanced in Tand’s direction. He appeared doubtful, for all that he had urged Xanatos to do just that for days.
“Don’t worry, love.” Xan brushed back a strand of Bruck’s wild, white hair. “Perhaps you and Qui-Gon could stroll around the Temple for a bit, since you seem so strong all of a sudden.”
“It’s the light,” he said, as if savoring a delicacy. Distraction gave Bruck’s words an almost dreamy quality, but Xanatos could feel him thinking, something simmering just beyond the edges of their bond. “Nothing’s more restorative for a Lentrebi than natural light.”
He was hiding something, but Xanatos was content to let Bruck have his suspicions, for now. Everything would be better in a matter of hours, and there would be no more need for secrets between them.
“It’s settled, then,” Xanatos turned to Qui-Gon. “Take good care of him, Master.”
“I will do my best,” Qui-Gon was smiling now, though his eyes looked sunken and pinched.
Xan squeezed Bruck’s hand gently, and then followed Tand toward the Dome.
Larkin jumped out of the speeder just as it landed in the private speederbay of the whore’s rooms. The door stood open, and he approached it with his blaster held ready, set to stun. That whore was not going to get the best of him this time.
As if the thought had conjured him, Kenobi appeared in the doorway, pack slung across his shoulder. Larkin pulled the trigger, but Kenobi was too quick and the bolt struck the door jamb. He got to the door before Kenobi could get it closed. Larkin shoved him away from the controls and threw a punch, but missed. Damn, that whore was fast.
Not fast enough to dodge out the door before Chass and Burl blocked the way.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” he said in a strangely calm voice. “You want to let me go.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” the two men said. Larkin didn’t believe what he was seeing. They were already shifting their weight to move out of his way.
“Well, I do!” He shot the whore square between the shoulder blades with a stun bolt, then ran up and smacked both his buddies in the face. Burl came back to his senses first, but Chass wasn’t far behind.
“Take him in there,” Larkin grunted. He started rifling through the special cabinet, looking for binders and a gag. Whatever magic it was the whore had tried to pull, Larkin was going to make damned sure he didn’t have a second chance at it.
Qui-Gon watched Xanatos walk away, amazed that his stubborn and opinionated Padawan had finally given in to the pressure to speak with a Mind Healer. From the exchange he had just witnessed between Xanatos and Bruck, he seemed to be on the path of true healing, accepting the bonds that would give him the strength to follow it.
“Xanatos is doing much better than I had feared.” He turned to Bruck but found the young Knight staring, open-mouthed, at a news feed on one of the vid screens in the lounge. Some sort of Senatorial scandal, if the large banner scrolling across the screens were to be believed. The same story was playing on every screen, though the species of reporter varied.
“Bail Organa,” Bruck muttered. Suddenly he grabbed Qui-Gon’s arm, his grip on the verge of painful.
“I know how to find Kenobi.”
Palpatine had barely seen Knight T’Crion and his watchdog onto the transport when all hells broke loose. His secretary and several assistants rushed up to him, just paces ahead of a fleet of journalists shouting questions. One reached his ears clearly enough.
“Chancellor, is it true that you attempted to blackmail Senator Organa of Alderaan?”
“Of course not,” he answered without hesitation. “I’ve no idea why anyone would make such a preposterous claim.”
His aides circled around him, pushing him toward a more private location – one where the news hounds could not follow them. He sensed the tension in them, the panic, but their anxiety was unfounded. If Bail Organa had been foolish enough to make such claims to the media, then Palpatine would deal with it. He could not possibly have unequivocal proof, and the consequences of this disclosure would be much more serious for him than for Palpatine.
This unexpected disturbance was nothing more than an annoyance, an unwelcome distraction from the tasks at hand.
Qui-Gon wasn’t sure he had heard Bruck correctly, but the young Knight was pulling him through the bay, toward the transport Xanatos and Tand had just exited. It was nearly empty.
Qui-Gon sat heavily beneath a smaller vid screen, now playing a recording of Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan giving a speech. Bruck sat beside him.
“Knight Chun, what are we doing, exactly?” Other than leaving the Temple when I’m responsible for your safety, he thought.
“Bail Organa spoke to Kenobi when I was with him that day at the Senate Complex,” Bruck said. “I didn’t think much of it at the time, and that was just hours before Xanatos and I had our... accident.”
“Senator Organa met Obi-Wan at the Chancellor’s Gala,” Qui-Gon interrupted. “Why shouldn’t he speak to him, if he happened to see him?”
“I saw a connection, between them – something I recognized as a physical attraction, at least on the Senator’s part.”
“In my private life, I prefer the company of men,” said Senator Organa from the vid screen.
In Qui-Gon’s mind, this bit of information fell into place, and suddenly the rest of it made sense: Kenobi stumbling in from the balcony after the gala, reeking of sex and stimsticks, the same sort he’d been smoking when Qui-Gon saw him after the hearing, after Xanatos... Qui-Gon felt dizzy, and sick.
“Bail Organa,” he said, scarcely above a whisper. “It was Bail Organa...” The Senator had excused himself so quickly when he discovered Obi-Wan’s occupation that Qui-Gon had never considered...
“Qui-Gon.” Bruck laid a hand on his shoulder, but Qui-Gon scarcely noticed.
Organa had brought Obi-Wan back from the gala that night. Organa had been the one who… Qui-Gon’s fists clenched.
“Qui-Gon!”
Knight Chun’s face was tight with concern, but all Qui-Gon could think of was Obi-Wan stumbling in from the balcony, or crying in his arms the next day. The stab of jealousy he felt when he saw the comlink and the stimsticks on the day it all went to hells.
“Organa was the… balcony friend.”
Obi-Wan’s voice came back to him in memories of their final argument, with new and painful understanding.
... with someone like that, there’s fucking and then there’s credits...
“Master Jinn!” Knight Chun spoke very slowly and clearly, looking in Qui-Gon’s eyes. “You need to tell me what in the seven hells you’re talking about.”
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, trying to order his thoughts. “Obi-Wan met someone at the gala. Someone who brought him up to the balcony of my quarters. He said he’d made arrangements for accommodations in the city for after he testified.”
Qui-Gon wiped his sweat-damp hands on the edge of his tunic. He’d had it all wrong.
“I thought that was over, but when I saw him after… after Xanatos had been there, he had a comlink and some stimsticks. He’d been beaten, but he didn’t seem upset about the bruises. I thought...” Qui-Gon couldn’t say it aloud – he’d thought Obi-Wan had brought a lover in for rough sex, to satisfy some need that an aging Jedi Master could not fulfill. “He told me it was Xan, but I didn’t believe him.”
Bruck nodded solemnly, acknowledging Qui-Gon’s pain without belaboring it. “Even if the Senator is not this ‘balcony friend’, it is likely he knows where to find Kenobi.”
That was probably true; Qui-Gon had no concrete reason to cast Organa as the man who had so casually abused Obi-Wan on the night of the gala, but the idea of having such a young, handsome and powerful man as a romantic rival did not ease his fears.
He supposed he would find out soon enough.
“You look tired,” Qui-Gon observed. “You should not have come with me.”
“If I had waited to explain, the transport would have left, and you’d have been ten minutes later finding him.” Bruck grinned, stretching out on the transport seat. “I’m resting now, sort of, and if we’re lucky enough to get an address, I can nap in the taxi while you talk to him. Helping you find the man you love is hardly as dangerous as your last excursion.”
His last excursion had started out just this way – looking for Obi-Wan on Coruscant – but Qui-Gon decided against mentioning that to Knight Chun. After all, it was statistically improbable that every trip into the city could turn into a struggle for one’s life.
Bail hadn’t found it difficult to get away from the news crews once they discovered that Palpatine was out of the hearing; they swooped down on the Chancellor like flock of ravenous birds on a field of grain.
He didn’t delude himself that this was over – he’d been on Coruscant too long to be that naïve. Palpatine had been clever enough not to speak any direct threats – everything was done with implications, all under the guise of avuncular advice. He would still have plausible deniability and room to spin the facts, but it would take effort. The Chancellor would have to work the press, and Bail looked forward to watching the damage control from the sidelines.
The recordings and documents he had managed to gather might not be enough to shake Palpatine’s grip on the Galactic Senate, but the accusation would rattle some of his supporters. And since his story included hints of what Jace would have called ‘hot monkey sex’ it was bound to be brought up in the news feeds every time Palpatine’s name was connected to anything questionable.
Yes, Bail knew his actions today would probably lead to little more than a recurring annoyance for the Chancellor, but that outcome would please him all the same.
He had gone to his office to collect a few things he might miss if his homeworld chose to dismiss him from his post perfunctorily, but he didn’t bother with pretending to do any more real work for the day. It would be impossible to accomplish anything without a barrage of questions from his peers. He might as well head back to his rooms for midmeal. Perhaps Kenobi was already there, waiting for him.
When the secretarial droid informed him that his driver had returned, Bail practically danced out of his office, he felt so light, so giddy with freedom. He had not realized that he was humming until he turned a corner and nearly ran into two Jedi.
Master Jinn he knew in passing, and the brown-skinned Knight with white hair had accompanied Kenobi the day he testified. He paused to let them pass, but they seemed to have reached their objective.
“Hello, Master Jinn.” Bail offered his hand but the tall Jedi Master merely nodded his greeting. He looked to the other. “Knight-”
“Chun-al-Leem,” the Knight replied. “Senator, we are trying to locate Obi-Wan Kenobi. Have you any idea where he might be?”
Bail smiled. There was no need to hide his connection to the courtesan now, and the realization pleased him. “I suspect he may have arrived at my rooms a short time ago. I could take you to him.”
“That would be ideal.” Knight Chun-al-Leem smiled when he spoke, his demeanor exceptionally polite, but it did not escape Bail’s notice that Master Jinn seemed even more rigid than the moment before. Bail might have spent too many years lying to himself about his own nature, but he was not a fool.
“It is no trouble at all. My driver is waiting.” As he led them through the corridors toward his waiting vehicle, he attempted to engage the Jedi in conversation. “I suppose you are wondering if Kenobi had anything to do with my announcement today.”
“The thought had occurred to us,” the Knight said.
“He did, but not how you might think,” Bail said. “Kenobi helped me to accept certain truths about myself, and showed me that I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Is that so.” Master Jinn’s words sounded bitter and skeptical. It gave Bail a chill.
“It is true that Palpatine was blackmailing me. Part of his scheme included keeping me away from Kenobi. I couldn’t get in touch with him. I even went by his rooms, but was turned away by people I didn’t know. I had not heard from Kenobi for most of a ten, then he commed me rather unexpectedly this morning, asking for help. I sent my driver to pick him up while I was occupied with the press conference.”
“I see,” Jinn said as they approached Bail’s speeder.
“No, Master Jinn, I don’t think you do. I don’t know what was going on between Palpatine and Kenobi, but whatever it was, he was desperate to get away. He had to break into the comm in his own rooms to contact me.” Bail’s driver saw them coming and came around the speeder to open the doors for them. “My life here on Coruscant may be over, but I owe Obi-Wan Kenobi a debt of gratitude. He saved me from a life of self-loathing and fear. How could I deny him a little free transport and a safe place to stay?”
“About that, Senator,” the driver began. “I went to the rooms, but no one answered the door.”
Bail felt a sudden, unmistakable uneasiness in his gut. “He wasn’t there?”
“I couldn’t say, sir, but there was a blaster burn beside the door.”
“Take us to that place at once,” Master Jinn ordered as he entered the speeder, pulling the Knight in with him. There was no deference in his voice; he spoke knowing he would be obeyed. “Comm the authorities on the way.”
Bail nodded and jumped in the speeder before the driver panicked under the force of the Jedi’s command and rushed off without him.
Larkin had the whore naked and bound up just the way he wanted long before the stun wore off – arms stretched above him, one ankle in a restraint attached to the lower left corner of the bed, the opposite knee tethered to one of Larkin’s special tightening knots looped around his throat. All he had to do was tighten it and Kenobi wouldn’t be able to straighten his leg without choking himself.
“That should keep things interesting,” Larkin muttered to himself.
When the whore finally began to stir, Larkin gestured to the others to give him a moment alone with him. Kenobi struggled a little at first, but he went still when he saw Larkin.
Larkin smiled and loosened the gag, pulling it down to rest just below his lips.
“That magic trick you did earlier doesn’t work on me. You pulled the same thing on the others this morning, didn’t you?” Larkin paused to stroke a hand down the whore’s chest. He didn’t recoil or struggle, but he wasn’t looking at Larkin, either. “What’s the matter? You not gonna try to sweet talk me, tell me it doesn’t have to be like this, how you could make me feel real good if I’d let you loose?”
“No.” The answer was quiet, but Larkin heard it, and it surprised him.
“Why not?”
The whore turned his clear, strangely calm eyes on him.
“Because you want me to,” he said. The calm, emotionless words gave Larkin a chill. “I only role-play when credits are involved.”
“Good.” Larkin struck Kenobi in the face with his steriplas-shielded wrist, grinning at the sound it made when it broke his nose. He tugged the gag back into place while the whore was senseless. It was a shame to lose the use of that mouth, but he couldn’t risk having Chass or Burl turn on him at the wrong moment. “That way, I’ll know it’s for real when I make you scream.”
He grabbed Kenobi’s sack and squeezed. He didn’t scream yet, but it roused him from the stupor brought on by the blow. Blood poured from his nostrils as he struggled to breathe.
“Lookee there,” Larkin said. “Guess the last time I touched you wasn’t the last time after all.”
He grinned as he tightened the rope between Kenobi’s neck and his knee, and called his buddies; when they were done with him, even the old Chancellor wouldn’t pay ten credits for an hour with what was left.
Qui-Gon glanced in Knight Chun's direction as the speeder careened around the Senate District, trying to mask his agitation. Senator Organa had been willing enough to tell them about the layout of the place, and his suspicions about the Chancellor’s placement of surveillance. From that, it was clear enough that Obi-Wan had been involved in the Senator's blackmail, however unwittingly. Yet it seemed that Organa bore the courtesan no ill will.
The trip lasted only minutes, but the seconds dragged for Qui-Gon — so close to finding Obi-Wan, but still not knowing what state he might be in or whether he would be there at all. Blaster burns near the door, the driver had said. That did nothing to relieve Qui-Gon’s anxiety.
For his part, the young Knight seemed to be taking their sudden detour in stride. Unless Qui-Gon was horribly misreading the signs, Bruck had slipped into a form of waking meditation. His eyes focused on something only he could see, and his breathing had become deliberately slow and deep.
"Can you see what is coming?" Qui-Gon knew how ridiculous that must sound to the Senator from Alderaan, now wedged in beside them in the back seat, but he knew that Chun's transformation on Lentrebi Prime had left him with deeper changes than those of his appearance. He couldn't bear the thought of what he might find at the end of this little trip, yet he couldn't resist the urge to ask.
"Nothing clear," Chun said. His voice sounded oddly choked, though he showed no outward signs of emotion.
"We're almost there," the Senator said. The driver glanced at him in the mirror, gripping the controls nervously. "Land in the private speederbay. It'll be fine, Lahns. We have two Jedi with us."
That seemed to calm the driver. Qui-Gon had to admit that Bail seemed to have a gift for knowing what to say. After all, he had just handled a rather sensational scandal with surprising aplomb. He also seemed to have detected Qui-Gon's antipathy for him.
As they settled into the speederbay, he turned to Organa. "Wait here." He glanced at the burn mark the driver had mentioned as he and Chun got out of the speeder.
Qui-Gon covered the distance to the door in two strides, with Knight Chun beside him. He tapped the door controls with the codes the Senator had given them. The Chancellor must have changed them; the door didn't open.
"Master Jinn." Chun laid a hand on Qui-Gon's arm. In a tone that left no room for argument, he said, "Give me your lightsaber."
Qui-Gon hesitated, for half a breath -- a Jedi does not surrender his weapon lightly -- but there was something in the young Knight's voice that gave him pause.
"Please." Chun reached out with his long bronze fingers, and Qui-Gon placed his 'saber solidly in them. Without hesitation, Chun ignited the 'saber, sliced open the door and rushed through ahead of Qui-Gon. The first room was empty, but sounds of a struggle came from a doorway across the spacious common room.
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted as he ran toward the noise, Bruck at his heels. Time seemed to slow, and Qui-Gon saw everything with perfect clarity: Obi-Wan bound naked on the bed, a burly green humanoid. . . on him, a human with a cast and a bloody vibro-blade, and a third in the corner reaching for a blaster.
Qui-Gon did not hesitate. The green-skinned one went flying into the wall with a Force push stronger than any Qui-Gon had ever managed before; he did not get up.
Before the first one hit the wall, Qui-Gon had shoved aside the other, knocking the vibro-blade from his hand. It flew handle first into Qui-Gon’s palm and he cut the rope connecting Obi-Wan’s knee to his throat.
“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon pulled at the bloody gag, searching the swollen features for some sign that his beloved heard him. He had barely got the gag down before the man with the cast tackled him. He knocked the blade from Qui-Gon’s hand, a fact for which he would thank the Force later. Qui-Gon rolled his attacker, pinning him. His fists seemed to have a mind of their own as they pummeled the face and loathsome body beneath him. He didn’t even feel it when the man landed a blow with his cast.
Later, even in guided meditation, he would never recall what the third man did after he entered the room, or the blaster shots fired at him — or even the sizzle of his lightsaber as Chun wielded it, deflecting the shots back at their assailant.
His world had shrunk to a mindless, myopic rage; his awareness did not extend beyond the blood and crunch of bone under his blows. He didn't even notice when the brute had ceased defending himself.
"Master Jinn."
The meaty slap of bloodied knuckles against unresisting flesh filled Qui-Gon’s ears.
"Qui-Gon. He's unconscious." Cool hands touched his shoulders. "You can stop now."
The blood rage didn’t leave, but thoughts of Obi-Wan forced their way through. Qui-Gon staggered to the bed. Obi-Wan lay curled on his side, scorched remnants of his bindings trailing from his limbs — the work of a lightsaber.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered as he gathered him up in his arms. He loosened the rope around Obi-Wan's neck and pulled it up over his head. It left a line of red and purple on his throat. With his face so bloodied and swollen, he was scarcely recognizable, but when those indescribable eyes opened, there could be no doubt.
"Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered, holding him close. “I have you. It’s going to be all right.”
Qui-Gon thought he saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth as he wrapped a blanket around him, but then his swollen eyelids closed.
“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon was already rushing for the door with Obi-Wan in his arms. Knight Chun was with him as he ran out the door.
“We need to get him to the Temple,” Bruck said, handing Senator Organa the weapons he had taken from the men. “You keep them here until the authorities arrive. Don’t worry – they’re all out cold.”
Qui-Gon got in the back of the speeder, Obi-Wan a dead weight in his arms. Bruck sat in the front with the driver.
“Lahns.” Bail glanced at Obi-Wan’s ravaged face and swallowed hard. “Take them to the Jedi Temple Healers’ Dome, go!”
“Obi-Wan?” There was noise and motion, but all Qui-Gon could see was the man in his arms, bruised and bloody. “I have you now – you’re going to be all right.”
He held Obi-Wan close, letting his golden head rest against his shoulder. He would not allow his thoughts to touch what he had seen, what Obi-Wan had endured – if he did, he would go back to those rooms and gut the three animals responsible.
There is no emotion; there is peace. Qui-Gon recited to himself, searching for the peace the code spoke of. There was none for him, not now, in this moment. He just had to feel what he felt. There is no passion; there is serenity. But there was no serenity – not for Qui-Gon. Not now. How could there be?
He reached out to the Force, and felt it, but it held no comfort. The Moment? How could he bear to live in this moment with his lover lying broken in his arms?
Qui-Gon made no sound, but he knew from the coolness of the air on his face that there were tears.
When the speeder landed, Qui-Gon struggled out with his burden and ran for entrance to the Dome. Soon a Healer came to help him with Obi-Wan, so limp and pale. He resisted the mad urge to cling to his lover – he had to release him to the Healer’s care, but it felt wrong not to hold him.
They made him wait outside the room where they looked after Obi-Wan. Waiting. Oh, sweet Force, would this moment never end?
Xanatos let himself out of Tand’s office; the indicator beside the door signaled that the Mind Healer was in session with a patient. He didn’t want anyone to find the man too soon, lying there unconscious on his couch. Xanatos didn’t need much time, but he did need a head start if he was going to capture Durante on his own.
Sure enough, the small spacecraft was parked exactly where the Chancellor had said. He loaded the coordinates from the data chip and started the engines, smiling as he lifted off. The other Jedi thought of him as some weakling who needed protection – even Qui-Gon. And Bruck.
But Xanatos was about to prove himself. He would come back to the Temple with Orima Durante, and redemption would be his.
Part 28
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