Velleity

by MrsHamill (mrshamill@gmail.com)

Archive: MA and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.hawksong.com/~momskitchen)
Category: Drama, Weird
Pairing: Well, none, really, but Wheel is mostly Q/O
Rating: E (for everyone)
Summary: Who is it that has just come to the Death Star, wearing Obi-Wan Kenobi's face?
Disclaimer: What, you think I own these guys? Do I even look like George Lucas? If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant.
Warning: THIS IS A TRANSITION PIECE. It will not stand by itself. Please see the Notes.
Series: The post-Wheel series. For information and a directory on this series, go here: http://www.hawksong.com/~momskitchen/Wheel_stories/cast_of_wheel.htm.
Notes: Another prelude to the clone war arc of the post-Wheel series. Yes, this ends on a cliffhanger. No, I haven't written the next bit. Yes, I do know (now) what happens, and yes, the next story will be the actual battle. Promise. Thank you, Claude, for your usual wonderful beta.

Pain... pain... more, perhaps than what he was used to, the stump of his right arm aching beyond what it should, now that his hand was gone, but the blaster wounds weren't even registering as such on his internal pain-o-meter... and there were voices, he recognized them, they were familiar and almost harsh... bacta, yes, it was bacta, he must be home, no, not home, home was gone... what happened to the device?

"I'm sorry, sir, as you can see by the security tape, he popped in directly in front of us on the bridge. The explosion wasn't caused by anything we did, though. We think it had something to do with this thing he was obviously carrying. There's not much left of it, unfortunately, he must have been holding it in his hand."

Tyranus looked at the shattered remains of a small, black device that the clone trooper held in one hand. "Have you been able to analyze it?" Before him, the security tape restarted, playing the scene over and over. From nowhere, a black-clad man materialized and exploded, causing every intruder and danger alarm on the Death Star to go off.

"No, sir, though we are working on it." It was probably too ruined to be at all helpful.

"And there was nothing else, no other warning, no ship, nothing?"

"No, sir."

How did this man get aboard the Death Star? "Did he say anything?"

"Only yelled, sir, as we were subduing him. He fought quite ferociously, even wounded as he was." That was evident through the tape. It took a fantastic number of clone troopers to subdue the strange intruder. He even used his hemorrhaging arm as a weapon, spraying blood into the faces of those who sought to bring him down.

"Interesting. I'll be in the infirmary. Contact my apprentice Ventress; she should be working near the reactor core. Tell her to come up immediately and report to me in the infirmary."

"Yes, sir."

Tyranus left the control room and moved to the infirmary. There was something familiar with the man who suddenly appeared on his station. He needed to find out more. Hopefully, the man wouldn't be dead, yet.

That bastard... he has grudging admiration for the way the bastard had played him, giving him the device, telling him what he could do, and where it could take him... rule the universes, yes, that's what he said... wish it could have been true, then, but it must have been a trap, had to have been, and lucky for him the old shit left before he could be killed... wanted to consolidate his own galaxy, his own universe before moving on to another... though he hadn't managed to destroy the Jedi in his own universe, the only reason he used the device was to escape before they destroyed the station... had to leave Darth Vader, had to leave his apprentice to die but better him...

Remarkable. Simply remarkable. "Show me his clothing and everything else you took from him." The body floating in bacta could have been Obi-Wan Kenobi's twin, or his clone.

The med droid brought him a small bin which carried ripped, bloody clothing -- make that ripped, bloody black clothing. Specifically, black leather, and a black cape.

Pawing through it, Tyranus came upon a lightsaber. It was double-ended, much as Maul's had been, and when he ignited it, he found it burned a blood-red hole through the air. "He was carrying this?" It couldn't be Kenobi. That pathetic Light-sider wouldn't have touched a red 'saber had life depended upon it.

He walked back over to the bacta tank. "What is his status?"

"Sir. There is significant damage, loss of blood, loss of functionality of many of his organs. He only has a twenty percent chance of living, and even if he survives, he may be significantly brain damaged."

"Get him out. Wake him up."

"Sir! To remove him from bacta would mean nearly certain death--"

"If he dies, so be it. I need to know what he is and how he got here." Tyranus turned back to the med droid. "Get him out and wake him up."

"Yes, sir."

So cold!... so cold and noisy, must be somewhere, someIF else, where could he be?... not with Darth Vader... not on the Death Star... and voices, rough voices... so weak, hated to be weak, so much blood lost, so much gone, can't see, can't feel anything but cold...

"You sent for me, Master?"

"Ah, Asajj. Yes. Look here."

The med droids were in the process of removing the man from his bacta tomb. She turned and did a credible double-take. "What?! That's... that's...!"

"No, it's not, but it appears you agree with me that it certainly looks like him." Tyranus stood aside with Asajj and watched as the man was lowered to a bed. The med droids hurriedly cleared his lines and made sure he was still getting nutrients and medicines, putting gauze bandages over his ragged stump and the many other wounds covering his body.

"It's not an exact copy of present Kenobi, there's no beard." Asajj was frowning as she looked at the nude, damaged man. "Who is he? Where did he come from?"

"He simply appeared on the control bridge, out of nowhere, it seemed. He was clutching a small device which exploded as soon as he appeared, taking off his hand and part of his arm. Even wounded as that, he fought like a rancor, taking three clone troopers out and requiring eight more to subdue him." He gestured to the dataset. "I have the security tape, which is a fascinating study. As to who he is, why, he's Obi-Wan Kenobi. Clearly."

"He can't be." Asajj's voice was flat. "I cannot imagine a clone of Kenobi that we did not create left alive. And this man is no Kenobi... he's filled with Darkness. Can't you feel it, Master?"

"Yes, I can." Tyranus smiled, closing his eyes for a moment to better taste the currents of Force. "And I agree, I cannot imagine a clone of Kenobi being alive either. The man strikes me as the zealous type, and he would find a way to know if he had been copied." He turned to the med droid. "What were your conclusions upon your examination? Can you determine if he's a clone?"

"The injured man is fully human and is not a clone." The med droid, finished checking the lifelines to the man, turned to face Tyranus and Asajj. "The medical records match that of the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, one hundred percent on the cellular level."

"He's not a clone?" Asajj shook her head. "Then who the fuck is he?"

"I think we must make the assumption that he is entirely who he presents to be, Asajj. I'm going to have them wake him up, so we can question him."

"Good. I want answers too."

Pain is rising... he tastes it, feels good, so good, pain is a constant companion and is welcomed as a way to let the Dark into and around and through... light burns eyes, cold freezes balls, pain subsumes all... lives with all... even those outside... a familiar presence, a voice not heard for long times untold... recent memory intruding into and through the pain, memory of fighting, of destruction, blowing up Endor's forest moon, feeding on the screams of pain as people died, the clones dying, the Jedi dying, so good, so very good... wake up?

"I wish we had a telepath. It would make things much easier."

The stranger with Kenobi's face was hooked up to life-monitoring equipment which showed how far gone he really was. Even Tyranus could tell they had only hours, at best. "Yes, it would, wouldn't it? I can read his surface thoughts, but they're a jumble due to his damage." He turned to the med droid. "I believe I requested you to wake him."

"I am in the process of doing that, sir," the droid replied. "He should be awake within the next five minutes. I cannot guarantee how long he will last after that, though."

"Fine. You've made your point. If you're not needed further, you're excused."

The droid withdrew. If it had been possible, it would have radiated displeasure at what Tyranus was doing to its patient. Dismissing the thing, Tyranus turned back to the body on the bed.

He was beginning to move, almost to thrash, although he was undoubtedly too weak to move much. He didn't utter a sound, however, which intrigued Tyranus. His Force aura, black like a black hole, swamped the room as he approached consciousness.

With a gasp, he woke, looking around wildly, furiously. "What... where...?"

"Who are you?"

Wake up?... must fight, must live to take over this universe, must be on the Death Star, made the transfer in space, on the station, should have taken him to the same place... where?... whose voice is that, who is talking?... female, male... familiar... not heard for years, dead, killed him... wake up?... What... Where...

"Who are you?"

The man panted raggedly, his one good eye looking blearily between Tyranus and his apprentice. "You... you're dead..."

"No, I don't think so. Who are you?" Tyranus narrowed his eyes. "You wear Kenobi's face, yet you are not a clone. Where did you come from?"

At the mention of the name, Kenobi, the man began to tremble in rage -- they could feel it, his hatred, his anger. It was beautiful. "Darth Venge. I... am... Darth... Venge." His voice was weak, since he appeared to be having problems breathing. "You... are... dead."

"Darth Venge?" Tyranus looked at his apprentice and found her as puzzled as he felt. "I assure you, I am not dead. Where did you come from, Darth Venge?"

"I... killed... you... myself. I'll... do it... again... if I... have to... bloody... fucking... Jedi..." It was an obvious struggle, but he managed to raise his head and his shortened arm. He was incapable of raising either far, though, and he looked at his arm in almost comical frustration. "Bastard. Must have... booby-trapped it... wanted me... dead..."

"Who?"

"Sidious."

Asajj looked as surprised as he was. "Was Darth Sidious your master, Darth Venge?"

"Was. Yes. Wanted to... kill... the bastard... killed... you too, fucking... Jedi..." His arm and his head dropped back to the bed. Behind him, the monitors began going from green to orange.

"I am no longer a Jedi. I am Darth Tyranus." Tyranus was beginning to have suspicions about where their 'Darth Venge' came from. "How did you get here, Darth Venge?"

"Device." Venge's pants were becoming more labored, his eye sagged shut. "Sidious gave me... roam... the universes... take them... as your... own... he had... one... hunted the... other... mes..."

"You come from an alternate reality, don't you. One where you were a Sith under Darth Sidious."

"Yes... he could... he... could go... other universes... The device. Where...?"

"It blew up when you arrived." A device that could take people to alternate realities? "Had you been to other realities?"

Venge's lips were turning blue from anoxia. "No. No. Wanted to... to wait. Kill Jedi... kill them first..."

"Had your master been to other realities?"

"Yes..." Venge ground the word out. He was fading fast and seemed to know it. His hatred and frustration swamped the room. "Yes. Never... came... back... was going... to kill him..."

Tyranus smiled. It was unfortunate that the device self-destructed upon the arrival of Darth Venge, but the information gained could be used for other purposes.

"Anakin..." Venge's good eye was once again open. "Find Anakin. Get him. Kill Jedi!"

"Anakin who? Where is he?" Tyranus glanced at Asajj but she looked blank. "Where is he?"

"Tat... Tatooine..." Tyranus moved to Venge's bedside and leaned over, the better to hear him. Suddenly, Venge's hand darted out and grabbed him by his shirt, dragging him down further. "Kill. Jedi." His voice was barely there, but his anger and hatred came through clearly. "Anakin. Darth... Vader. Kill. Jedi."

His blazing eye burned through Tyranus until it faded completely, dead. The monitors began to squeal.

Tyranus loosened the dead man's hold on his shirt and stepped back from the bio-bed, rejoining Asajj who had remained at the foot of it. The squeals of the monitors cut off abruptly as the med droid returned. "Sir, he--"

"He's dead. Dispose of the body." Tyranus turned and headed for the door, knowing that Asajj would be right behind him. Before he reached the door, however, he paused and turned back. "Wait. Don't dispose of the body -- preserve it. Just as it is."

"Sir?" The med droid was obviously confused.

"Follow my instructions. Preserve the body so that it may be easily seen. As the spoiled Maul clone is." Without a further glance back, he turned and they left the infirmary. Neither spoke until they entered a lift, one that would take them to the control room. "That answered more than a few questions, don't you think?"

"What?" Asajj was frowning at him.

"We both know that Kenobi died as a child, over a dozen years ago. But here he is, again. Whole and distressingly hearty."

The frown vanished. "He was from another reality."

"Exactly." Asajj had such a quick mind; she was a credit to his teaching. "It explains much."

"So, a Kenobi dies here, and another comes to take his place, years later."

"Sidious would not have been found out if Kenobi hadn't known something about him." The lift stopped and the doors opened on the busy scene of the Death Star's control room. "Despite Maul's knowledge of how things were run, Palpatine should have been able to escape the Jedi."

"So he's from another reality. How can we use this information? We have no idea how to travel between the realities as he tried to do."

They walked to the central screen and Tyranus leaned against one of the command consoles. "Nor would I want to," he replied in a murmur, his gaze drawn to the planet floating beneath them. "I will be quite content with ruling a Jedi-free galaxy right here." A slow smile spread across his face. "But I'm sure I won't mention that to Kenobi, before I kill him."

"You want him to think you can travel between the realities."

"It should unbalance him delightfully, don't you think?"

Asajj smiled but didn't answer. Her master knew the direction her thoughts were headed. He had trained her well. She would do him proud.

"Serendipitous, the Force answering my wish this way," he mused, stroking his beard. "I wanted, desired... no, needed... to find a weakness in my enemy. Now, the Force has given it to me on a platinum salver. I couldn't have asked for better service."

After a moment, Asajj spoke. "One thing intrigues me -- who is this Anakin he spoke of?"

Tyranus gave her a gentle smile. "I think we should find out, don't you, my apprentice?"

Her smile was far more venomous than his. "Yes, my master. I do believe we should."

They stood together, amicably, watching as the galaxy turned serenely, unafraid, around them.

Pain... cold... pain... wishes of violence, dreams of conquering... no more, no more... voices... cold... pain... gone... gone... all gone... gone.

end