Master Apprentice
Archive
Re-Entry: Attainment II
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Archive: MA and my site, the Flamethrower's Archive
Category: Q/O, AU, Slash!, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: Adult-goodness
Warnings: Bunnies.
Spoilers: *gasp* TPM!
Summary: Attainment: n. 1. The act of attaining or the condition of being attained. 2. Something, such as an accomplishment or achievement, that is attained.
Notes: Okay folks - here's the skinny. This is the second half of Attainment. I apologize in advance, but it *is* a cliffhanger. The parts that go after this are about 1/2 complete, but since I'm in the midst of planning to move my household 9 states away... I'm not sure when I'm going to complete them. I promise there won't be some huge chasm like there was between Diverging Paths I and II... but it probably won't be next week, either. Please be patient with me. :) I swore that I would complete this evil epic, and I will always honor my word.
Feedback: Please? *bats eyelashes*
Thanks: to Lori, who keeps things running smoothly. (And tells me to stop using *those* words.)
Disclaimer: "Rob? That's a naughty word, we never rob! We just... sort of borrow."
"Borrow? Boy, are we in debt!"
Series order so far is:
Bits and Pieces - Will be revamped eventually.
Attainment II <-- You are here.
Feedback: *bats eyelashes* Pretty please?
Two days ago:
Micah Giett took one look at Qui-Gon Jinn and almost Force-hauled him out of the infirmary, taking him into one of Theed's nearby gardens. "You need sunlight," he explained brusquely, letting Qui-Gon sit on a bench near a stream. Qui-Gon blinked owlishly in the bright sunlight; the feel of the gentle breeze against his skin felt odd.
"I could have done without," Qui-Gon replied, tempted to stand back up despite the warning glare on Micah's face. "I don't want to leave him "
"You're not," Micah said, his face softening. "You can't, you idiot. You're lifebonded to him now, and you're always going to know where he is, and how he's doing. Try it."
Qui-Gon looked up at Micah, but did as his life-long friend instructed. He touched the tiny thread of the bond, tracing it back into the infirmary where Obi-Wan lay. There was a hint of dreaming, but nothing truly memorable and then Obi-Wan was in his head completely, and he could feel everything that Obi-Wan could feel. Though he had to admit, with his mate in a heavily drugged slumber, that there was not much to feel. There was a sense of pain, muffled by the narcotics but present nonetheless. Qui-Gon winced, pulling himself away.
Micah grinned. "Told you so. You can be there for him wherever you are, and in time you won't even have to be on the same planet."
Qui-Gon shook his head, separating himself from Obi-Wan enough so that the drugs wouldn't start to affect him. "I had... an idea, of what it meant to be a part of a lifebond. The reality, however, will take some getting used to."
Micah sat down beside him, leaning his staff against the bench. "Usually when a bond like this is going to be created, someone else who is in one gets to talk to those who wish to form it. Give them a bit of an idea what it's like. You and Obi-Wan sort of skipped that step."
Qui-Gon leaned over, resting his face in his hands. "I suppose we did. I just... I couldn't think of anything else. I thought " his voice broke. "I thought he was going to die in my arms."
Micah sat quietly beside him, letting Qui-Gon regain his composure. "Were you going to ask him to bond with you, regardless?"
He sat up. "Yes." That he was certain of, at least.
Micah smiled. "Then it doesn't matter. Besides, a lifebond can't be completed unless everyone involved truly wants it."
He sighed and leaned back, letting hard wood press into his shoulders. "I had forgotten that."
"I thought you might have," Micah said, sitting back as well. "You were starting to get that guilty look I know so well. Oh crap, I've bonded to someone who might not like the idea half so much as I do.' Heh."
Qui-Gon shook his head, knowing that Micah was right. "Thank you. Though I would still rather stay with him."
"And you will," Micah agreed. "I talked to Terza, and you've still got at least a full thirty-six hours before he wakes up. She wants to make sure that the healing they performed has time to settle. And you you needed to get the hell out of there for a little while. You look like a wraith."
"I do not," Qui-Gon retorted, though really, Micah could have been right. He hadn't given much though to anything except Obi-Wan in... in... "Gods, Micah-- what day is it?"
"Last day of the week. You've been out of it for three days."
He was sorely tempted to hide his head in his hands again. "It's that bad?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," Micah said. "When was the last time you meditated?"
"I..." Qui-Gon stopped, trying to remember. "Before the battle. I was helping oh, Force. Rillian!"
Micah put a hand on his shoulder before he could move. "Relax. You have not wronged your Padawan, Qui-Gon. She knows full well exactly what went on, and how much your focus was needed to keep Obi-Wan alive. In fact, she and Anakin were in there with you, making sure you didn't drain yourself too badly." He shrugged. "Now go find yourself a nice spot in this garden, sit down, and meditate until you feel more like yourself again."
Qui-Gon gave Micah a grateful smile, then startled his friend by embracing him tightly. "Thank you. I will do that."
He had to admit, Micah had been right. As usual. Qui-Gon drifted up out of an intensive meditation, coming back to awareness of the outside world slowly. He felt refreshed, less likely to trip over his own feet. He opened his eyes to find Rillian sitting in front of him, covered in butterflies. She eyed the ones crawling on her face nervously.
"I think that they like you," Qui-Gon said softly, and Rillian smiled, trying not to flinch when a butterfly with large violet wings parked itself on her nose.
[I was waiting for you to finish, and they just... sort of... showed up. I've never seen butterflies before. Why don't we have any in the gardens in the Temple?] she asked, curious.
"They don't survive very well in closed environments, and the Temple gardens must be climate-controlled to ensure the health of some of the more delicate plants they shelter." Qui-Gon held out his hand, patient and still, and several of the winged insects crawled onto him. They scented him, the long tongues tickling his palm as they feasted upon the salt on his skin.
Rillian sighed. [I want to take them all home with me,] she said wistfully.
Qui-Gon smiled. It seemed that maybe the Force had finally gifted him with a Padawan that shared his interest in adopting random creatures. "They must remain where they are, Padawan, for they will not thrive elsewhere."
[I know.] She shook herself, and the butterflies took off in a surprised rush. She gazed at Qui-Gon, her brows drawn together with worry. [Are you okay, Master? Truly?]
He opened his arms, and the girl darted forward, settling into his lap and laying her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, laying his hands in soft fur. "I am now, Rillian."
She nodded. [Good. I was afraid...] she paused, plowing forward when Qui-Gon waited for her to speak. [You bonded with your mate. I'm happy for you, Master. But it was frightening. You nearly died when he did, and ... I wasn't sure where that would have left me.]
He considered her words, wondering if some of her concern stemmed from uncertainty about her place in his life. "Believe me, Rillian, I had no intention of dying. Even if something had happened to me, you would still have been cared for. You would have remained a Padawan."
[Oh, I know,] the Wookiee replied, snuggling into his arms. [But I want you to be my Master.]
"I'm glad." He closed his eyes, letting the training bond soothe them both. "I'm sorry about this, Padawan. It is not the kind of first experience as a Jedi I would have wished for you."
She snickered. [I know, but it just seems to happen that way. When we talked on the flight, Master Obi-Wan said that his first mission involved draigons, explosives, and someone trying to kill him. Then Anakin told me that on his first mission, your shuttle was quite literally blown out of the sky, and then you were chased across half a planet for no discernable reason.]
Qui-Gon chuckled. "On my first mission, I inadvertently got myself sold into slavery. My Master was really not happy about having to buy me back."
Rillian twisted her head to look up at him disbelievingly. [No.]
He nodded. "Yes. I was quite mortified, believe me. I read all of our mission briefings very, very carefully after that. Dooku told me in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't buy me back if I managed to do that again." It was one of the few times he'd seen his Master angry, and he had made it a habit, after that, to try not to anger the man at all. An angry Count Dooku was a very frightening sight.
Rillian carefully extricated herself from Qui-Gon's arms, standing up. He looked at her, regretful; there would come a time, altogether too soon, when Rillian would be far too large to sit in her Master's lap. She grinned, hearing the thought. [Don't worry, Master. We'll figure something out.] She held out her hands, helping him get to his feet. The ground tilted alarmingly before it settled, and Qui-Gon muttered a curse under his breath. Rillian looked up at him, and gave Qui-Gon a worried growl. [Let's get you back, Master. You still don't look all that great.]
Qui-Gon found that he was quite content to let his Padawan help him walk, a bit unsteadily, back to the infirmary.
Qui-Gon actually felt like singing a bad idea, since he sang about as well as he cooked. He settled for exchanging foolish grins with Abella. They had both just watched Obi-Wan, still unconscious, swipe at the girl as she had tried to take his pulse. Then, muttering something about pesky Healers, he had very firmly crossed his arms and shifted away from her.
"That's the most wonderful thing I've seen in days," the Padawan Healer said with delight, her eyes shining.
He agreed with her wholeheartedly, because the action had been accompanied by a drowsy thought: Make her stop poking me. It's distracting.
For the first time since Obi-Wan had been injured, Qui-Gon knew he would be able to rest here with his mate, secure in the knowledge that Obi-Wan would be all right.
Now:
Qui-Gon opened his eyes, regarded the empty bed across from him, and wondered why he thought there was something wrong with it.
Then he realized it was because Obi-Wan wasn't in it. He sat up quickly, looking around the room. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, and his sense of time told him it was mid-morning. He had slept through the entire night.
Obi-Wan was standing, very still, in the middle of the room. The loose white cotton shirt and pants he wore hung loosely on his frame. "Good morning," he whispered, his face white and pinched. "Sleep well?"
Qui-Gon leapt out of bed, stepping up next to Obi-Wan so that his mate could lean on him if he needed to. He knew that Obi-Wan had lost weight in the past five days, but the reality of it was shocking. "What are you doing up?" he said, horrified.
"Walking?" Obi-Wan replied. Then he winced and let Qui-Gon support most of his weight. "At least, that was the idea. I made it this far, and don't seem able to go any farther."
"You shouldn't be up at all," Qui-Gon retorted. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"
"No," Obi-Wan snapped, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I'm trying to get to the fresher."
They stared at each other, wide-eyed, and both of them burst out laughing. Obi-Wan laid his face on Qui-Gon's chest, tears streaming from his eyes. "Ah, gods. I think I needed that."
"Me, too," Qui-Gon admitted. "Though you do seem to be much better, especially if you managed to get out of bed without help."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I woke up in the middle of the night and put myself into a healing trance. I had to be able to get up. I need to be mobile, at the very least, by tomorrow."
Qui-Gon held his tongue, as much as he wanted to ask questions. "First, the fresher. I'll help you, because falling probably wouldn't help matters."
"No, it probably wouldn't," Obi-Wan agreed, his voice going faint as they stepped forward together.
For four years, he had prayed that things in his other life would never come to pass. Obi-Wan knew, now, that there was no more reason to doubt that they could.
Obi-Wan ducked his head under the faucet, activating the tap with a wave of his hand. Cold water ran through his hair and down his face, gentle and soothing. He was breathing through the pain, but every movement felt as if his body was trying to tear itself apart. He had a very strong suspicion that he had just joined Micah on the disabled list. It was composed of a very small group of Jedi who had lived through life-threatening injuries, but couldn't heal well enough to serve in the field again. Obi-Wan desperately hoped he was wrong; despite everything he had been through, he would still rather be serving in an active role, not confined to the Temple.
I suppose that I could be a teacher, he mused, turning off the water before raising his head. A very pale man stared back at him, dripping wet. His eyes were huge, his face unnaturally lined by fatigue and pain. He smiled at the image, smile turning grim as he lifted his arms to pull back his hair, tying it into a tail. He had lived with chronic pain before. He could do so again. It was, however, not a comforting thought.
You would make a very good teacher, Qui-Gon said in reply to his thoughts. Though I hope that the damage is not permanent. I would miss you terribly when forced to leave on missions.
He gritted his teeth, walked, to the fresher door and opened it. Qui-Gon was waiting there for him, as patient as stone, and Obi-Wan went gratefully into his arms. "I would miss you as well, Qui. Though, look at it this way you will drive the Council insane, for you would be traveling with two Padawans under your charge."
Qui-Gon's soft laugh vibrated in his chest, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of Qui-Gon's arms around him. Something so simple as this was the best therapy he could imagine.
"What. In. The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing?" a very angry Healer bit out.
Obi-Wan turned in Qui-Gon's embrace to face Terza's wrath unflinchingly. "Holding my mate," he answered.
Terza stepped forward, her brown robes flaring out behind her. She glared daggers at him. "What are you doing out of bed? Are you out of your damned mind? You nearly died five days ago! Your body is a wreck!"
"I'm needed, Terza." Obi-Wan stifled a smile when Qui-Gon very quietly offered to protect him from the scary Healer.
"Bullshit!" Terza roared, and he flinched, amusement forgotten. "I don't need to hear any of the nonsense you lot spout when you're injured. The galaxy is going to have to do without you, Obi-Wan Kenobi!" she yelled.
He reached out, gripping her hands in his, holding on when she tried to tear herself away. "Jale," he said, needing her to understand. "You know me. As much as I dislike the number of times I have wound up in your care, I have always listened to you, and I have done as you have instructed. You know that if I say I am needed, then it is true."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Damn you, Obi-Wan. You're too much of a Jedi for your own blasted good." She dropped his hands, and he let her, watching as she wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her tunic. "What is it that's so important that you're going to try crippling yourself over it?"
Qui-Gon's hand crept into his own. His mate knew already, through the bond, what it was. "The other Sith, Terza. He's coming here, tomorrow." He smiled, but there was no joy in it. "I am the only one of us who will truly know what to expect from him." He could have told everyone, in intimate detail, exactly what it would be like to stand before a Dark Lord of the Sith and it still wouldn't be enough. Words were empty husks in comparison to the real thing.
"You've got an idea, then?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice full of curiosity.
He nodded in reply. He had an idea, all right one that terrified him. "Yes. I'm willing to debate its brilliance, but it's all we've got. I will need help, though."
"Okay," Terza said, straightening and visibly pulling herself together. "As much as I don't like it - What can I do?"
"I must speak with everyone, today. The Jedi that remain on Naboo, the Queen and Captain Panaka, and Chancellor Valorum, as this involves them all." He paused if seeing Senator Palpatine on Coruscant had been a shock, what came next was going to be infinitely worse. "After I do that, I need you to help me heal enough to be able to stand and walk. I don't plan on fighting anyone, but I need to at least..." he hesitated, smiling self-deprecatingly. "I need to at least look like I could." I hope it doesn't come to that, at least.
It better not, Qui-Gon muttered through their link.
"That's not going to matter," Terza said. "It's still going to hurt, no matter what I do. If someone hits you where you were struck..."
"Then I will just have to make sure that they don't," Obi-Wan said, thinking about the body armor the Naboo Security Force wore under their uniforms.
Good idea. How about two sets? Qui-Gon suggested, and Obi-Wan could sense that he was serious, despite the teasing nature of the suggestion.
I need to be able to move, not waddle, he sent back affectionately.
He was trying very hard to ignore his fear.
The Jedi made it to his room first, and Obi-Wan spent long moments basking in their presence, accepting their warmth and happiness to see that he was all right. He was seated very comfortably in his mate's lap, leaning back against Qui-Gon's chest. Qui-Gon's hair drifted forward on occasion, and Obi-Wan enjoyed the sensation of the silky strands brushing his neck. Both of them were sitting on Obi-Wan's bed. Qui-Gon had volunteered to provide support for him when Obi-Wan had realized he wasn't quite able to sit up on his own.
He could sense that Garen and Siri were burning with the need to question him about the battle, and the bond, but held back, understanding that something far more interesting was going on. Rillian and Anakin were sharing Qui-Gon's chair, which was shoved up against the side of Obi-Wan's bed. The room was tiny, and the rest of the Jedi were standing close together as they waited for everyone else to arrive.
Finis Valorum entered at last, escaping from the Senate Guard. He strode forward, clasping Obi-Wan's hand warmly. "I'm rather glad to see you conscious," the elder man said with a smile. "Now I truly believe that you will be all right."
Obi-Wan smiled back, touched at the sentiment the Chancellor offered. "You just don't want to have to train new diplomatic couriers."
Valorum nodded, his voice serious. "Can you blame me? I would find myself hard-pressed to replace you, or Master Jinn. Ah Queen Amidala," he greeted the young woman as she entered the room, followed by Panaka. Panaka shut the door behind him, after exchanging a brief greeting with Terza. The Healer had decided to stay out of their discussion, saying that it meant Abella wouldn't have to be involved.
Padm%eacute; smiled at Valorum, dressed much the same way she had on Tatooine. Her blue shirt and the Chancellor's blue robes stood out in stark contrast to the creams and browns that dominated the room. "Sorry, Chancellor, but Queen Amidala is not here. She's busy having lunch with her close advisors, and doesn't know anything about clandestine meetings on the outskirts of Theed." She stepped forward then, embracing Obi-Wan with gentle arms. "I'm glad you're all right," she whispered into his ear. "The last thing I wanted was your death on my conscience." She stepped back, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
Obi-Wan stared back at her, nonplussed. "I seem to recall volunteering," he whispered.
"Doesn't matter," Padm%eacute; retorted hotly, and then her expression softened. "Tell us what you must."
"All of you here are used to hiding your true thoughts and intentions. Or," he said, glancing at Rillian and Anakin, "you can learn quickly to do so. This is important, because what I have to say is supported by no direct evidence, and borders upon sedition."
"Listen: There are six Senators and their aides arriving in Theed tomorrow evening. One of those six Senators is one of the most powerful Sith Lords to ever exist."
There was a long moment of silence. The Jedi stared back at him, grim, while Padm%eacute; and Valorum made no attempts to hide their horror at his words. "All of the members of that delegation are Senators that I have worked with personally," Valorum whispered. "And you tell me that one of these beings is a Sith Lord?"
"Yes." Obi-Wan looked at Padm%eacute;. "He has long-term goals regarding the Republic, and the Jedi."
Padm%eacute; understood immediately, paling to the roots of her hair. "No," she breathed. "He - gods. Senator Palpatine wanted me to call for a vote of No Confidence." She gave the Chancellor an apologetic glance. "He was... distraught, when I did not do so."
"Palpatine?" Mace repeated in disbelief. "That... that..."
"...really nice, charitable, kindly old man," Adi spoke as if the words were distasteful. "I think I feel sick."
"I see what you mean, Master Kenobi," Valorum said, his eyes
glittering with the beginnings of anger. "It really does smack of sedition.
How do you know this?"
"I know this because, once upon a time, I had an experience that even now I cannot really explain to you. Call it a Force vision, for lack of a better term. He features heavily in it."
Anakin spoke up, his bright blue eyes muted somehow. "Palpatine is your best friend to your face, but he'll steal everything you have while your back is turned."
Obi-Wan spared his Padawan a worried look, concerned by the knowledge he could see in Anakin's eyes. "My question is this: do you want to do something about it?"
"I know my history," Valorum said tightly, exchanging looks with Yoda and Mace as he spoke. "The Sith are creatures of destruction. If such a monster is hiding itself under my rule, then I'm damned well going to do something about it."
Padm%eacute; bit her lip. "You have my support, Obi-Wan, and I'll do what I can to help. I trusted that man. If it had not been for another's honesty--" she smiled at Obi-Wan, "--I might have been the one to give him exactly what he wanted."
"Hard to see, the Dark side is," Yoda said, his voice bitter. "Sensed nothing, I did. Good intentions the Senator seemed to have." He shook his head, his luminous green eyes sad. "Losing my touch, am I."
"Losing your touch, you are not," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He has placed a dark veil over the whole of Coruscant, Master. I did not suspect its presence until just recently. The only reason I thought of it at all is because of what happened in the vision."
Yoda lowered his ears. "Told me, you should have."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I didn't tell you because of the very thought you have in your head." He knew full well that Yoda's first order of business would have been to attack Sidious.
Yoda glared at him, but did not comment.
Obi-Wan clasped his hands together, hiding the fact that they were now trembling. "The Jedi cannot simply step forward and destroy this man, as is our ancient pledge, because the damage to the Order would be catastrophic. The Republic respects this man, and he his well-loved by his constituents and many of his fellow Senators. On the other hand, we cannot simply call for his arrest, because there is no evidence. Believe me, he has covered his tracks well. Even Nute Gunray does not know that it was Palpatine who convinced him to initiate the blockade."
Are you okay? Rillian asked through the shared training bond. Obi-Wan glanced at her, nodding. He had to be.
It'll be okay, Anakin said, speaking to him and to Rillian. Palpatine's just... well. Scary.
Obi-Wan shivered, suddenly cold, and leaned back gratefully into Qui-Gon's warmth.
Siri Tachi smiled, the expression dark and predatory. "So we need to find ourselves some evidence. Got something in mind?"
Obi-Wan smiled back. Trust Siri to get right to the point. "I do. Will you listen?"
Micah nodded, the others motioning their agreement as well "Tell us how to take the bastard down."
"Senator Palpatine's residence is now officially monitored. We installed full audio and visual surveillance in all of the rooms," Panaka reported to Queen Amidala, the two of them shaded by the large, gnarled trees that grew in the Palace gardens. They were as far away from prying eyes and ears as they could get without raising suspicion. "The system is brilliant Padawan Skywalker helped us to design it so that it would be undetectable to the usual scans. However, Palpatine's residence proved very difficult to enter. He has some interesting new security measures on his home that were difficult to bypass without leaving traces behind." He pulled off his hat, tucking it under his arm. "Invoking Naboo's planetary security act is going to be the only thing that saves our asses if this plan blows up in our faces," he said bluntly.
Amidala shook her head, the complicated headdress making faint chiming noises as she moved. "That's why the Chancellor also invoked the Republic's rather extensive security acts against treason and terrorism, Captain. A Senator of the Republic is responsible for the Trade Federation's attack on our sovereignty, and is in violation of both our laws and those of the Republic. Even if we fail to procure the evidence we need, we will still know what he has done." She smiled. "I do, at least, have the power to name a new Senator in his place." And banish him from Naboo, she thought. Valorum had been amused, as they had discussed such measures he did not have the power to end a simple blockade, but he could act on behalf of the Republic against suspected terrorism. Where was the balance? she wondered, still appalled by what she had learned of the Chancellor's office and its powers.
"I still don't quite know how Kenobi is going to pull this off," Panaka said, concerned. "Recording Palpatine is one thing, but I doubt he's going to be committing seditious acts in his living room."
How, indeed, Padm%eacute; Amidala
thought. Obi-Wan had asked them to trust him, though he would not say exactly
what would cause the Sith to reveal himself.
If the Sith does not reveal himself, then we are going to have far more to worry about than our legal standings, he'd said, expression sober.
She shuddered; there had been real fear in Obi-Wan's voice when he spoke of Palpatine, and she had come to realize that her new friend feared little. "You will simply have to trust our allies, Captain Panaka," Padm%eacute; said at last. "As I do."
"This is a bad idea," Qui-Gon whispered, helping his mate dress in clothes that he detested the very feel of. The black tunics had been carefully repaired by Anakin and Rillian that morning, and none of the lightsaber damage showed. Their Padawans stood at Qui-Gon's side now, watching his actions with solemn eyes.
"It's a very bad idea," Obi-Wan agreed sincerely. "But it's the only one I've got. Can you think of a better one?" he asked. "Believe me, I'm willing to listen to alternatives."
"Killing him outright appeals to me greatly," Qui-Gon admitted, sliding the black tabards into place before wrapping them with a sash that smelled just as rank as everything else. Darth Maul had been a man who didn't seem to believe in bathing. "However, that would be looked upon very negatively by the rest of the galaxy. Which is why you're doing this in the first place."
[Killing him appeals to me greatly,] Rillian rumbled, fingering the place on her bandoleer where her lightsaber was tucked away. [Politics complicate things way too much.]
Anakin grinned, though his humor was strained by his own fear of what was about to happen. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. When this is over, we can make fun of politicians together."
"Padawan," Obi-Wan said mildly, and Anakin ducked his head, not repentant in the slightest. "At least make sure that no one is around to hear you."
Obi-Wan turned to face him, and Qui-Gon had to admit the effect was very striking clothed head to toe in black, Obi-Wan's pale skin and copper hair was emphasized, turning his eyes into luminous sea-green warmth. "You know, I almost wish you would wear black more often," he said with a faint smile.
Obi-Wan shuddered. "Sorry, Qui. That's one request I'm not going to be able to grant. I really don't care for black; it brings back bad memories."
Qui-Gon held up Maul's cloak, wrinkling his nose at the foul odor that drifted up from the heavy material. Rillian, he noticed, was doing much the same thing as she and Anakin helped him settle the cloak onto Obi-Wan's too-lean frame. "I still don't see how anyone, let alone Palpatine, is going to believe that you're Maul. Despite smelling like the bastard, I mean."
Obi-Wan laughed. "Smell is one of those things that the Sith seem to pay particular attention to, especially foul odors. As to the rest?" he shrugged, even that simple motion pulling at his wound, making Obi-Wan wince. "You'll find out soon enough. This way, at least, you can honestly say that you had no idea what I was going to do when Mace has a spastic fit."
Obi-Wan smiled at him, and there were a great many feelings hidden in the depths of his eyes. He took a step, his face questioning, and Qui-Gon buried himself in Obi-Wan's arms, holding on tightly. Be careful, he said, the depth of his love pouring into the bond they shared. I love you.
And I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan kissed him fiercely, his hands resting on Qui-Gon's chest, just over his heart. I will live, and so will you.
Obi-Wan stepped back, dropping carefully to his knees. Rillian and Anakin both stepped forward as one, and Obi-Wan held them close. "Take care of him, Padawans. This will all be over soon."
"We'll be watching from the Palace," Qui-Gon said, wishing that he and the others could station themselves closer. If something went wrong... "Are you going to be able to do this?"
Obi-Wan uttered an unhappy laugh as he stood. "Qui-Gon, I'm terrified nearly out of my wits at the thought of being in the same room as this man. But yes, I am going to be able to do this." He took a careful breath. "I'll be careful, Qui. I promise." Then Obi-Wan raised the hood of the cloak, and his face was lost to shadow.
With the lights in Palpatine's residence off, it was easy to hide in the darkness that filled the main living area. Obi-Wan wrapped himself in silence, letting the shadows cloak his form completely. This is a very bad idea, he thought to himself, not for the first time. The lifebond that bound himself and Qui-Gon together was stable enough now that if he died, Qui-Gon wouldn't die with him, but that didn't make him feel any better.
Obi-Wan smiled tightly; he hadn't waited this long for his life's greatest wish just to die now.
He opened himself to the Force, whispering to it of the thing that he wished to do. The energy swirled around him, almost thoughtfully, before settling onto his skin. It left his body tingling in reaction, and he pushed the energy into the proper alignment, letting it form the image he had in his mind.
When he pulled back the sleeve of Maul's tunic, his arms reflected the same tattooed red and black patterns that adorned Darth Maul's body from head to toe.
It really was amazing what you could learn during an intergalactic war.
Qui-Gon let Anakin and Rillian precede him into a small room near the back of the Palace, one that, before they had claimed it, had been filled with dust and molding furniture. It was so little used that most of the Palace staff were unaware that it existed.
They were welcomed silently by Micah, who was leaning against his staff. Valorum was pacing the small room, his blue robes of office streaming out behind him. Yoda was watching the man pace from where he sat, cross-legged, on one of the two chairs in the room. He nodded at Qui-Gon, his face solemn.
Padm%eacute; was wearing a wine-colored shirt over black pants and boots; her wardrobe had finally diverged from that of the rest of her handmaidens. There was a blaster strapped to her waist, and he caught what he was sure was the glint of a knife tucked into her long braid of hair. She was also watching Valorum pace, the expression on her face saying that pacing looked like an excellent idea. Anakin smiled at her reassuringly, and she smiled back, watching as the boy took the second chair.
The bank of viewscreens that dominated the room showed the darkened chambers of Senator Palpatine. Somewhere in those rooms, Obi-Wan was waiting for Palpatine to arrive and the only way Qui-Gon knew for certain that Obi-Wan was indeed there was the bond. In the Force itself, Obi-Wan had again masked himself.
What Qui-Gon had once thought creepy was, in fact, not. Micah had been exactly right. Obi-Wan did not block himself off from the Force he hid within it. The gentle current of flowing energy that Qui-Gon sensed through the bond was of great comfort to him. It was not as good as standing with his mate, but Obi-Wan had not been sure he would have been able to hide them both.
He looked around at his friends gathered in the room, and hid a predatory smile of his own. Senator Palpatine was in for a surprise, at the very least.
"Is he here?" Qui-Gon asked, as Rillian stepped up to lean against his side. He put his arm around her, grateful for his Padawan's strong, steady presence.
Anakin glanced back at him, his hands resting on the controls for the display. "Yes," he said, and Qui-Gon was startled by the fear in the boy's eyes. "He is."
Padm%eacute; nodded. She was there so that she could stand as witness to today's events, were it necessary. "Sab%eacute; is acting in my stead, so that Queen Amidala can greet the Senate Delegation personally. Master Windu is with her, acting as official Liaison for the Jedi Order. The rest of the Jedi have placed themselves at different points in the city, and the Naboo Guard is with them. They are participating in construction efforts and clean-up, and are much too busy to be concerned with the presence of the Investigation Committee." She said this with a wry twist of her lip. It was the best they could do, given the circumstances. If they had surrounded Palpatine's residence, well-hidden or not, Obi-Wan was certain that the Sith Lord would have known something was wrong.
They all jumped when Padm%eacute;'s commlink beeped for attention. Valorum stopped pacing, turning to face her, and they waited while Padm%eacute; listened.
She pocketed the commlink again, smiling nervously. "Captain Panaka says that Senator Palpatine is on his way to his residence. The Committee was in agreement that after their journey, resting was their first order of business."
"Of course it was," Valorum muttered disparagingly. "They only rested for the entire journey. What is one more evening going to matter?" He shook his head when Micah stifled a laugh. "You wouldn't think it was funny if you knew their excess was coming out of your budget."
They stared at the bank of monitors tensely, and time slowed down to a crawl. In reality, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before Palpatine appeared in the first monitor, walking through the main hall of his home. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time Qui-Gon had seen him a human male in his sixth decade, with warm blue eyes and blonde hair that was quickly turning white. The careworn expression on his face made it almost impossible to think that Palpatine and Darth Sidious could be the same person.
The Senator's residence was a very subdued, simple environment, despite the fact that as Senator, he was entitled to a much more lavish dwelling. Palpatine was trailed by his green-cloaked aides, who both walked with their heads bowed, until they reached the main living area. Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon saw Anakin make an adjustment to the recording system, and filled all of the monitors with one solid image of that room.
Palpatine's kind expression fell away like a mask. The warmth left his eyes, and his lips thinned as he smiled. Lifting his head, he turned his face in several directions, as if scenting the air. "Leave us," he snapped at the aides. "You will not come back until I call for you."
The two aides bowed without once lifting their eyes from the floor, and disappeared into the recesses of the Senator's home.
Palpatine uttered a delighted chuckle, a rich, disturbing sound that matched the dark humor on his face. "I thought I had sensed your death, Lord Maul."
There was no visible movement on the monitors, but the sensitive recording equipment picked up the whisper of moving fabric. "You were meant to, Senator," a soft, menacing voice whispered back, Palpatine's title drawled in an audible sneer.
Qui-Gon shuddered he had never heard Maul speak, but he had a feeling that Obi-Wan was mimicking the dead Sith perfectly. "You betrayed me," Maul's voice said, ending in a hiss.
"Come now," Palpatine said, spreading his arms magnanimously. "I had to ensure that our plan would succeed, my friend." The smile faded, replaced by a snarl. "And it did not. I am most displeased."
There was a further whisper of cloth from the direction that Palpatine faced, and then a figure in black stepped forward. He lifted black-clad gloved hands, pulling his hood back, and Qui-Gon stifled a gasp, though others did not bother to hide their shock. He was right not to tell me, Qui-Gon thought, horrified. I wouldn't have believed him. Then, almost as an afterthought: Spastic fits, hell. Mace is going to have a heart attack. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Yoda was staring up at the monitors, aghast.
Darth Maul stood where Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan to be, his yellow eyes flashing with anger. "I did exactly as you asked, Lord Sidious," Maul spoke again, his voice soft and deadly. "It was your Hand that tried to kill me, wishing to take my place. He is now ash." The deception was perfect, which was the very reason that the skill of Force Illusion had been blacklisted by the Jedi Order. The potential for misuse was considered too great.
Palpatine stared back at Maul, his eyes flashing with rage. "Forcing the Queen of Naboo to sign that treaty was the last chance I had of salvaging anything from this catastrophe," he ground out. "You failed in that, and you failed to kill Kenobi, both here and on Roinall V!"
There was a flash of surprise, carefully muted, within the lifebond. Qui-Gon was as confused as Obi-Wan-- kill him? Why!?
"Tell me why I should not kill you, instead?" Palpatine said, his rage a visible thing as sparks of electricity appeared around his clenched fists. "And why, my Apprentice, can I not sense your presence in this room?"
Maul smiled, and even to Qui-Gon it seemed bitter. "Perhaps because I have learned much since we last spoke. Do you wish to find out what else I have learned?" He touched the lightstaff that was secured in his belt. "I'm no longer certain it would be me who would lose."
Palpatine let his hands relax, giving Maul a thoughtful look. "I am surprised, my friend. You have learned more than I once thought possible." He half-turned away, his icy gaze going distant in contemplation. "My primary goal was to take control of the Republic from that weak-minded fool, Valorum. But Amidala is less susceptible to Force Suggestion than I once thought, and would not call for the Vote of No Confidence. I may have to call for it myself, though that would make it more difficult to ensure my election in Valorum's place. We will have to contemplate this matter, Lord Maul. The revenge of the Sith will not be denied."
Maul tilted his head, reaching up to tap the black-painted commlink hidden behind his ear. "Is that enough?" he asked, his voice dropping all trace of Maul, becoming Obi-Wan's again. Though Qui-Gon almost wished he hadn't done that hearing Obi-Wan's voice emerge from Maul's mouth was infinitely worse.
Valorum leaned over and activated the commlink attached to the recording system. "That's more than enough," he said, and Qui-Gon watched Palpatine turn back to Maul, his expression confused, and then angry, as Obi-Wan dropped the illusion.
Palpatine, strangely enough, gave Obi-Wan a pleased smile. "General Kenobi. How wonderful it is to see you again," he said. Palpatine Sidious lifted his hand, making a simple gesture.
With a squeal of tortured electronics, all of the monitors went black.
Obi-Wan winced as the equipment hidden in the room exploded in a shower of sparks, and hoped that Anakin managed to save the data. He stared at Palpatine, his stomach a cold knot of dread. "The pleasure is all yours, believe me." His head was spinning had Palpatine really called him... His eyes widened. "You know," he whispered. "You know all of it."
Palpatine smiled genially at him. "I do. I was apparently foolish to believe that I was the only one, especially in light of the Prophecy. Ah, well. How is young Skywalker, Obi-Wan?"
"He's out of your reach," Obi-Wan ground out, angered by the very thought of Sidious anywhere near his Padawan. "You will never lay a hand on him again."
Palpatine was unconcerned. "It doesn't matter. Skywalker betrayed me, and I have no use for him any longer. You, however..." he narrowed his eyes, calculating. "You did kill my dear Maul, then. I thought his reappearance was a bit strange. Darth Maul may have been many things, but crafty was not one of them."
"Actually, it was sort of a cooperative effort," Obi-Wan said, his mouth dry. Fear was a flutter of broken wings in his chest. I am the only one who will truly know what to expect from him. He winced inwardly at his own words, recognizing his own arrogance - too late to do anyone any good. "The Hand was a nice touch."
Palpatine nodded. "I suppose you killed him as well?"
Obi-Wan found himself smiling. "No, you can lay that one at Master Jinn's feet. Though he is truly ash; we didn't realize the melting pit was functional." He itched to take out his lightsaber, hidden from sight where it was tucked along his spine. Maul's lightsaber worked also, but he didn't trust himself with it. Obi-Wan clenched his hands into fists, feeling helpless; he wouldn't be able to fight Palpatine that way, regardless.
If there was a fight, it would come down to mastery of the Force.
Despite his earlier words, he was no longer sure he would win. Palpatine's abilities were different, more forceful even now the shadows in the room seemed to be multiplying. Sidious' aura of darkness was unrestrained, and it coated everything around him with taint and blight. The very air was chilled by it.
They stared at each other, and there was no sound other than Obi-Wan's own harsh breathing. He hurt, but the pain was a distant thing. He was too busy wondering how in the hell he was going to survive this.
"I was told you were gravely wounded." Palpatine gestured, and Obi-Wan gasped when sharp fingers unexpectedly prodded his midsection. "Hmm. Indeed you were. My Hand did very well. If only he were alive for me to reward him." Sidious stepped forward, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to take a step back. "It's a pity he was one of my most trusted of Hands, and will be difficult to replace. My next apprentice, however..." he gave Obi-Wan a dark smile. "How nice it was of you to present yourself to me, Darth Venge."
Obi-Wan went still, meeting Palpatine's eyes as his fear dissolved into outright terror.
"Shit!" Micah yelled, shoving his commlink back into his belt. "I can't raise anyone this way the channels are jammed. Yoda!"
Yoda closed his eyes, and the Force was a tangible thing as the Master used it to reach the mind of every Jedi in Theed. The call echoed inside of Qui-Gon's mind: To the Senator's home you all must go! Needed you are!
At the same time, Padm%eacute; pulled out her commlink. "Panaka!" she cried. "Find Palpatine do whatever you have to, just stop him!"
"Master Qui-Gon, I can't reach him!" Anakin said, eyes wide and panicked. "He opened the training bond back up, and now I can't find him again!"
Qui-Gon instantly delved into his own mind, following the path of the lifebond back to Obi-Wan.
He was met by nothing but a solid wall of darkness. Obi-Wan! he cried.
Silence.
"That name is not mine."
Palpatine took another step forward, and this time Obi-Wan did step back, wanting Palpatine to stay far, far away from him. "It is the one that I gave to you, my vengeful Jedi."
Obi-Wan shook his head firmly, his heart hammering in his chest. He'd been a fool. A damned fool Damned old fool, what have you gotten me into now?' "No. You did not."
Palpatine paused, another delighted smile appearing on his face. "Could it be... that you do not remember? How amusing."
Mental claws raked at his shields, and Obi-Wan screamed and shoved them away. Force, that hurt, he thought wildly. That was worse than when... when...
Worse than what?
Palpatine clucked his tongue, looking at Obi-Wan in pity. "They thought to bury the knowledge I gave you, did they? That meddling, traitorous troll, and ... Master Windu, was it? I had thought him dead before that time."
The block. Palpatine was speaking of the block. Obi-Wan shuddered. You're old before your time. He heard the words in his mind, thinking of the snow-white hair that had greeted him in the mirror one nameless morning. Who was it that had said that? Bail: The next time you decide to run off and try to kill a Sith Lord, Obi-Wan... do yourself a favor: Don't.
He laughed at Palpatine, his voice bitter. "You're right. I suppose I don't remember. Frankly, I find I prefer it that way, since it involves you."
Palpatine considered him for a long moment in silence. Then, faster than Obi-Wan would have believed, the Sith moved.
Obi-Wan was shoved against the wall, with Palpatine pinning him in place with his hands and the Force. "But life... is so much more interesting than that, old friend," Palpatine whispered in his ear. With that, the Sith ripped into Obi-Wan's mind.
His shields crumbled under the onslaught; they were nothing compared to the corrosive power that swamped him.
Obi-Wan fought him with all of his strength, battling against the dark tendrils that dipped into his thoughts. No sooner had he destroyed one of the questing things than more appeared, but he held fast, burning them away and working fast on constructing new shielding. It was working, and the new walls were holding. He gritted his teeth the last thing he ever wanted was Palpatine in his head.
Then his body betrayed him as those same dark tendrils tore into his lightsaber wound, rending and destroying all of the healing that Terza had done. He screamed in blind agony, beyond caring when he slumped into Palpatine's waiting arms.
The darkness rushed forward, wrapping black threads around the block in his mind. They covered the barrier, burying it in corrupt energy.
And shattered it.
Garen Muln ditched the speeder he had borrowed, sprinting up the steps of Palpatine's residence. He didn't bother with the door he simply bulldozed his way through it with the Force. For once, his inability to develop fine control worked in his favor. Palpatine's green-robed aides appeared to block the hall, staring at him with blank eyes. The Force pikes in their hands were held like they knew how to use them.
"They're mine!" Siri yelled, appearing next to him in a blur of Force-enhanced speed. She dove at them, her rose-colored lightsaber blade slicing into the staff of the first pike. Garen ducked under the second pike as the man swung, rushing past them. Where the hell is everyone else? he wondered, angry and not caring who knew it.
He skidded to a stop in the main room, his heart thudding in his chest at the sight. Palpatine was cradling Obi-Wan, almost gently, in his arms. There was blood dripping from Obi-Wan's nose, his eyes were screwed shut, and his hands were tearing at nothing.
Garen might not have been one of the most talented Jedi at using the Force, but he knew a mental attack when he saw it. "Hey, you! You big ugly Sith bastard! Leave my friend alone!" he yelled, igniting his lightsaber.
Palpatine sneered at him. "Fool," he hissed, and lifted his hand.
Arcs of purple lightning jumped from the Sith's palm, lancing across the room to strike Garen before he even realized what was happening.
He dropped his lightsaber from nerveless hands, his jaw clenched so tightly he couldn't have screamed if he wanted to. His body fell under the onslaught, and he lay on the floor, gasping in deep gulps of air when the attack ended. So that's what it feels like to be electrocuted, he thought, trying to remember how to sit up, surprised when he couldn't get his hands under him. I think I don't want to ever do that again.
"Palpatine!" a female voice roared, and there was a flash of violet lightsaber as Adi Gallia raced into the room, followed by Siri, Master Windu, Panaka, and a large chunk of the Naboo Royal Guard.
"You're under arrest, Senator, by command of the Supreme Chancellor, for treason against the Republic," Master Windu intoned. "And if you don't put my friend down, being arrested is going to be the least of your worries," he bit out, igniting his lightsaber.
Garen watched Palpatine look at the unconscious man in his arms, his face alight with anger. "There will be another time, Venge," Palpatine said, and dropped Obi-Wan to the floor.
He stood, and the air seemed to flex and darken around him. "No one will be arrested today, Jedi," he said, voice booming. There was a blinding flash as the air before them exploded in a wave of fire and crackling lightning.
Garen blinked, fighting to focus as the light began to fade. What an asshole, he thought, annoyed beyond measure. No wonder he'd decided to be a Knight-Pilot instead of a Warrior. Obi-Wan's job sucked. "I'm going after him!" he heard Mace yell, and Garen tried to get up to follow.
Hands the color of creamed caff stopped him, and he looked up into Adi Gallia's worried blue eyes. "Adi," Garen said in a whisper, his head spinning as his body tried to figure out what the hell had just been done to it. "I'll be fine. Go catch that bloody son of a bitch!"
Adi nodded. "Stay with Obi-Wan," she said, disappearing in a burst of speed. There was a flash of blonde hair and cream tunics as Siri followed, with the Naboo Guard close behind.
Garen nodded, though there was no one left to see it. It wasn't like he wasn't going to check on Obi-Wan, anyway. He got up and stumbled across the room, almost falling as he sat down next to his friend. He dragged Obi-Wan closer, alarmed when Obi-Wan fought against him. "Hey! It's me, you moron!" he yelled, trying not to whimper when one of Obi-Wan's flailing fists discovered his nose. Fortunately, his nose didn't break, but it didn't tickle, either.
Obi-Wan froze in his arms and looking up at him with eyes that kept shifting from green to pale yellow. Garen felt his stomach tie itself into a knot he was pretty sure that Obi-Wan's eyes had never been that color before. His throat worked, as it talking was almost beyond him. "... Garen?"
"Yeah, it's me. The others are going after yon ugly Sith," he said. "What the hell did he do to you?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and shook his head, refusing to answer.
Garen fished around in his pockets for his commlink, keying in the signal grimly. I knew this was a bad idea. "Master Jinn? You'd better get down here. Healer Terza, I know you're listening in you'd better come, too."
Qui-Gon dropped his commlink back into his belt pouch, looking around as he did so. They were still at least a mile from Palpatine's residence, and it was only courtesy for Mic's condition that he hadn't made it there already. "Go," Micah said, breathing in shallow gasps as he stumbled, catching his balance with his staff. "I'll follow with Rillian!"
He nodded curtly, exchanging glances with his Padawan, who smiled her understanding. [Teach me how to run faster some other time,] she barked. [Go now!]
He ran, touching the Force as he did so, and the landscape blurred.
Micah watched him go, still trying to get his wind back. The hell with this disabled crap when he got back to the Temple, he was going to make sure he could run a mile without wanting to pass out. "Where's Anakin?" he asked, looking around enough to realize that the boy was missing. "I didn't see him go with Qui-Gon."
Rillian shook her head. [I don't think I've seen him since we left the Palace.]
"I " Micah's commlink beeped a code that the Jedi used to mark priority signals. Micah cursed, fumbling for it.
"Mic, it's me," he heard Tahl's voice, strong but full of electronic scramble, denoting travel through hyperspace. "I'm on my way to Naboo. I've got news that you've got to hear--"
"Tahl," Mic began, trying to talk to his lifebonded and mentally search for Anakin at the same time. "We're a bit busy right now, love"
"Micah, listen to me," Tahl replied vehemently. "The Prophecy of the Chosen One isn't a Jedi prophecy at all!"
Realization hit him all at once, and Micah met Rillian's distressed green eyes. "Tahl... I think I know who the Third is."
Anakin was running so fast he was barely aware of his feet touching the ground. He could sense the other Jedi nearby, tracking the dark presence that tainted everything around it. He gritted his teeth and put on another burst of speed. Despite everything the Jedi had done, he knew that Palpatine was going to escape. He knew it as well as he knew his own name -- and his other one.
He turned a corner, brushing past a very confused group of Naboo. He stopped running and looked up. On top of the building before him was a waiting shuttle, its boarding ramp already extended. There was a blur of blue robes Palpatine leaping onto the roof. Mace was almost half a kilometer away, with Adi close on Mace's heels. Both Jedi had their lightsabers out, the violet blades cutting the wind as they ran. They weren't going to make it in time, and they knew it.
For a moment, time doubled, and Anakin cursed and shook his head to clear his vision. Taking a deep breath, he leapt to the top of the roof, landing on gravel that crunched under his boots. Palpatine was already halfway up the ramp. Too late, he thought, wanting to cry.
"Palpatine!" Anakin screamed, the name tearing out of his throat.
The Sith whirled around to stare at him, and Palpatine's face was twisted with rage. Despite the distance that separated them, their eyes met, and Anakin grinned and raised his lightsaber, igniting the blade. He knew had known that Sidious no longer had any power over him. "Skywalker," Palpatine's mouth formed his name, unheard above the noise of the rushing wind and the shuttle's engines.
Anakin waved his lightsaber in a mocking salute. "The next time we meet, I'm going to kill you!" he yelled. "Just like I did before! Think about that, you son of a bitch!"
Without another word, Palpatine turned and disappeared into the ship. Anakin lowered his blade and watched the shuttle climb, gaining altitude and speed quickly as Mace landed on the roof beside him.
Another ship went screaming by Mace could sense that Siri was piloting the Naboo Starfighter, but he knew that she wasn't going to catch him. "Dammit," Mace said under his breath. "We lost him."
Anakin looked up at him. "Not for long, Master Windu. We'll find him though I think he's probably going to find us first."
Mace looked down into those eyes, and mourned. It was no longer a child that looked back at him.
He and Obi-Wan had been speaking together, just after the Knight had turned seventeen, when Mace was beginning to realize that it would be very easy to be friends with Obi-Wan Kenobi. It's different for me, Mace. I may not have been a Knight yet, but I wasn't a child, either, when all of this got dumped on my head. Can you imagine a five year old boy with all of an adult's knowledge? What kind of a burden is that for him?
It seemed the day that Obi-Wan had wished fervently to avoid had come at last. Mace rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder, offering wordless comfort. Anakin's mouth trembled, and he buried his face in his hands. "Take me back to my Master, please," Anakin whispered, not bothering to look up. "I need to see if he's all right."
Adi met them as they jumped back down to the ground, her body tense with barely suppressed anger. "Siri lost him, and so did Quinlan and Aayla. There was another ship in orbit that picked up the shuttle. They jumped to hyperspace moments ago. Vos couldn't get there in time." She sighed, shutting down her lightsaber. "I feel so bloody inept."
Mace shook his head. "It doesn't matter now, Adi." He looked down at Anakin, who wiped the tears from his eyes with a quick brush of his sleeve. "Let's get back to the others."
Terza was already there when Qui-Gon arrived. He went instantly to Obi-Wan, gathering his mate into his arms. At his touch, Obi-Wan shivered, and Qui-Gon gasped in disbelief. Obi-Wan's shields were in ragged tatters that drifted brokenly in the Force. "Gods, what did he do to you?" he whispered. He touched the bond, coming up against the same dark wall. It was cracked and blackened, and he snarled unconsciously as he battered against it with mental fists.
Get this damned thing out of my way, he demanded, and Terza's soothing presence joined the fight, helping him to tear down the wall that the Sith had erected. It broke apart, and Qui-Gon closed his eyes in relief as the gossamer threads of the lifebond became open to him again. He was met by a bewildering jumble of information that Obi-Was was desperately trying to contain under his ruined shielding. Oh, love, he murmured, distressed, sensing the dark threads of memory that lay behind the block's shattered walls. Qui-Gon gently helped shore up Obi-Wan's mind, affording his mate a temporary measure of relief.
Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan brush his mind, thanking him without words, before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
"Dammit," Terza said, brushing her hands along Obi-Wan's temples. "Psychic shock. That bastard didn't take down the block so much as he obliterated it. We need to keep him warm." Without comment Garen shed the heavy freight captain's jacket that he wore in place of a cloak, handing it to the Healer. She took it with a nod of thanks, draping it over Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon shook his head; it no wonder Obi-Wan's thoughts were in complete disarray. "Come on, help me get him out of here," Terza said, holding onto one of Obi-Wan's hands to monitor him. Qui-Gon and Garen tried to lift Obi-Wan to his feet
-and Obi-Wan's eyes shot open. He let loose a blood-curdling scream, trying to curl in on himself.
"Ah, no!" Terza exclaimed, touching the place on Obi-Wan's body where Maul's lightsaber had pierced him. Her hand came away covered in blood.
The Healer looked up at Qui-Gon, her face ashen. "I'm going to kill that Sith myself, with my bare hands."
"Take a number and get in line," Qui-Gon growled back. I'm sorry, Obi-Wan we didn't know. He lifted Obi-Wan in his arms, trying not to jar his mate.
Obi-Wan's head lolled against his chest. s'all right. Just take me away from this place. He trembled violently in Qui-Gon's arms, the next stage of shock settling in. I don't want to be here anymore.
He drew into himself, fighting desperately to keep the flood of memories from spilling forth. As it was, Obi-Wan kept hearing and seeing flashes of detail, and he shut his eyes against them. That just made it worse.
You should not have come back, Obi-Wan, Dooku said with quiet menace, his lightsaber ignited and ready.
But you're dead! His own voice, disbelieving.
We missed you when Order Sixty-Six was issued.
That wasn't revenge. It was fucking genocide, and you well know it!
...Shall make the One...
You killed the boy who was meant to be your Padawan!
There are secrets that the Sith know... that the Jedi do not.
Show me why you would do this.
Kill her! She is a traitor to the Republic!
Run!
KILL HER!
He held his head tightly in his hands, feeling like his mind was trying to tear itself apart.
You, my vengeful Jedi.
Obi-Wan tore at his clothes. "Get these things off of me!" he yelled, glad when he felt several hands helping him get rid of Maul's tainted clothing, even the boots, though they left him his pants. They had been his to begin with, at least.
Warm hands pressed against his stomach, and an intense rush of healing energy left that part of his body tingling. The pain disappeared, though he knew it was only a temporary measure. It would hurt again later, probably worse than ever.
"What should we do with them?" someone asked, and there was a muffled thump as most of the clothing was tossed on the floor.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, spied the black pile of cloth. If there was one thing he never wanted to see again... The material burst into flames.
"Ah, Sith!" Garen yelled, leaping away from the fire. "At least let me get it outside!" The pile levitated off the floor, and was flung quickly through the room's window. Obi-Wan shuddered in relief, letting Qui-Gon hold him close. He buried his face in Qui-Gon's tunics, breathing deeply of his mate's scent, and tried to hold onto his sanity.
"What happened?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice soft.
Obi-Wan laughed, the sound muffled by cloth. "I made a dreadful error in judgment." His teeth started chattering, and he couldn't seem to stop trembling. He laughed again, amused by the very thought. "That's putting it mildly."
"Why would you do something like that?" Qui-Gon asked gently. Obi-Wan smiled, his expression bitter. Qui-Gon would not ask him in such a way if he weren't holding tightly onto those specific memories, reining them in and keeping them from the bond.
"Because he was trying to help me." Anakin's voice rose above the furor, catching his attention.
He lifted his head, and found Anakin standing in the doorway with a terrible, knowing smile.
Obi-Wan swallowed harshly. He felt beaten. Everything that he tried to hold together felt like it were unraveling before his eyes. "How long?" he asked.
Anakin shrugged, his face entirely too young for the knowledge in his eyes. "A day or so, maybe. I didn't even realize it until I saw him on that screen. It just... brought everything back," he said, shivering.
Obi-Wan sighed, exhausted beyond belief. "I wish it were not so," he whispered.
Anakin nodded, the shy grin that Obi-Wan loved so well breaking out on his face. "Believe me, I do too, Master. Next time I bitch about nightmares, feel free to laugh at me."
Something occurred to him then, one of many things swirling around in these new memories. A long unanswered question. "How did I get out of there?"
Anakin walked up to Obi-Wan where he sat on the bed in his infirmary room How the hell did I get here? he took a moment to wonder-- held tightly by Qui-Gon. Anakin reached for Obi-Wan's left arm, gripping Obi-Wan's hand gently.
Then Anakin turned his arm over, palm-side up, and touched a long, jagged scar that ran from Obi-Wan's elbow to wrist. It had not been there that morning. "Some things can still have power over you, even when you're sure that they don't," Anakin said, staring up at Obi-Wan with tormented eyes. "I found you, and I made sure you made it out of there alive." He took a deep breath. "And then I made sure that Darth Vader would never remember it."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment. "That, I still don't remember."
"You weren't exactly conscious," Anakin muttered.
"Who the hell is Darth Vader?" Qui-Gon asked in confusion.
Anakin smiled tightly. "I was." He spoke again, citing the verse from memories that had been long-buried for both of them. "There is One who is Light, and there is One who is Dark. Together they make the One who is Both. And the Light and the Dark shall make the One, and the Force will be Balanced."
Qui-Gon looked back and forth between them, and Obi-Wan's heart ached at the expression on his face. "I don't understand," Qui-Gon said, puzzled and angry. "What are the two of you talking about?"
"The Prophecy of the Chosen One isn't a Jedi prophecy at all," a new voice said, and Obi-Wan looked around in confusion. Tahl? When had she gotten here?
Tahl's expression was bleak as she worried at her braided hair with her hands. "The archives on Morous IV are very good. They still had the visual recordings on file, from the day the Prophecy was delivered to them by the man claiming to be Master Abhin Sal-Tur. Bant found the only vid-scan of him that wasn't blurred or damaged by age." She took the hand that Micah offered, when her distress became palpable. "We cross-referenced it to the... oh, hells," she said, giving voice to a bitter laugh. "It was Bane. Darth Bane. He wrote the damned thing."
"No," Qui-Gon said, his voice faint with disbelief.
Darth Bane last known survivor of the last great Sith War. Obi-Wan's blood roared in his ears. Betrayed. They were betrayed by words they thought had been their own.
Long-forgotten rage welled up. Obi-Wan held onto it and felt it slip away from his grasp, taunting him with its freedom. He hissed out a breath and looked up, found Mace standing in the doorway. "Would you like to know what happened?" he asked, trying very hard not to lose control. "Because if you do, now is as good a time as any." It was even going to be easier than he had once thought, this Sharing; he did not have any shields remaining to speak of, and he didn't have to lower what didn't exist.
Qui-Gon gripped Obi-Wan's hands tightly, and spoke in his ear, but Obi-Wan was beyond hearing. He was still staring at Mace, the most senior representative of the Jedi present, watching for him to speak.
It was either share the memories, or go mad.
Mace stared back at him, and then, gravely, nodded.
Obi-Wan took a shallow breath, time grinding to a halt.
Then he let everything go.