Room 244
by Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com)
6 June 2000
Rating: PG-15 for dark themes (as usual)
Summary: What lies behind the door of Room 244?
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns STAR WARS and all its wonderful
characters and places.
Notes: Dark!Anakin is channelled within. (My muse has returned!)
This story can be considered counterpoint to "The Moment" - they are unrelated but similar. Two possible fates. This is also part of a series of sorts in which it is Obi-Wan's inbalance/insanity which causes Anakin's downfall.
Room 244
--------
There are secrets in this city. Any person will tell you that,
from the ugliest sewer dweller to the oldest Jedi, although the
Jedi always manage to adopt the faraway expression in their eyes
and say that it is not our concern, we concentrate on the Living
Force. Sometimes I just want to laugh.
Coruscant has always entranced me, from the moment I first saw it
as a nine year old boy in the middle of an adventure I'd only
dreamed of. It was the brightest jewel I'd ever seen and had I not
been so full of fear over my future, I would have danced with
excitement when Amidala's ship landed. First impressions last,
even when they belong to a history of ten years.
And the first impressions hinted at secrets, vast secrets bound up
in the mysterious layers of city and the Jedi temple itself,
whispers from our past that no one is supposed to believe in. I
believe. I hear the whispers, sometimes, they tell me dark black
things and I know that there are potent secrets just waiting to be
uncovered. There is power hidden here.
Obi-Wan, naturally, doesn't believe me. I stopped telling him of
the whispers shortly after my first year on Coruscant, mainly
because he has a way of looking through me to see something that
does not exist. Sometimes I wonder if he ever really looks at me
at all.
Oh, he tried to be a good and proper master, never deviating from
the rule book he pretends doesn't exist, but I can see through him.
I can see through a lot of people and I can even tell when Mace
Windu is withholding the truth. (I wouldn't dare accuse him of
lying, oh no, because that isn't the Jedi way.)
The whole Council frustrates me but not as much as Obi-Wan. The
great Obi-Wan Kenobi, slayer of the Sith at the famous Battle of
Naboo. People tend to forget that *I* was the one who destroyed
the control ship - if it wasn't for me, the Palace would have been
levelled along with Obi-Wan the Hero.
He's a difficult man to follow. And there are secrets surrounding
him too - secrets about him and secrets in his eyes. They say he
was never the same after his master died. They say he became
obsessed with a memory. I believe it, too.
Every so often, he wanders from the Temple and forbids me to follow
him. I tried it just once and was blasted with a wave of such
admonishment I had a headache for days after. It scared me away
for years and I would pretend not to notice his regular
disappearances. Yet for years, I wondered where he went.
Surely not to meet someone or to indulge in some torrid tryst. My
master must have been castrated at some point because I've never
seen the merest flicker of interest in anyone. Such a shame,
because I've seen the way people look at him.
I chuckle, imagining his outraged, "Anakin!" could he hear my
thoughts. Padawans are supposed to maintain a pure mind but where's the fun in that?
Every day, I can feel my power growing. Obi-Wan doesn't notice.
He remains in his detached state, in fact, the greatest emotion I
have seen in his face was after one of his disappearances.
Something affects him. I plan to find out his secrets.
*
I glide through the corridors, shrouded in black. The Force swirls
and shimmers around me and anyone who might look in my direction
would see nothing, a shadow perhaps, but nothing that would
indicate that Anakin Skywalker is stalking his master.
Stalking. What an appropriate term, Obi-Wan is my prey. He looks
frightened, as if he is afraid of being discovered, but ten long
years have passed since my arrival and no one has uncovered his
secret in all this time. Had I not found the ancient text in my
room, I would not be aware of how to draw on this power to hide
myself. I believe there are primeval forces at work directing me
on this path. After all, I am The Chosen One.
Obi-Wan pauses at an elevator, one which leads from the Jedi Temple
and into the bowels of the city. It seems appropriate that he
would hide there. There are tales that speak of an entire level
being wiped out and no one noticed, because it was the Underground
where things become lost.
I slip into the elevator with him and for a moment, I am positive
I have been discovered. As I squeeze into a corner he stares
straight at me, his eyes wide and troubled. One hand reaches
forward and I shrink back, dodging his touch. He wets his lips
with his tongue, an odd expression in his eyes. "Master?"
No, Obi-Wan, not your master, although perhaps some day you will
use such a term to address me.
He continues to stare at my shadow as the lift descends through
multiple levels, until I am positive we must be at the surface
level itself. I've only ever been to the surface once before and
that was the most boring trip I've ever been on because the ground
was covered with metal anyway. "Feel the Living Force," intoned
the instructor. Right. It's more like feel the metal, sucking the
life from everything living on this planet and feeding it into the
jaws of the creatures who lurk below.
The elevator stops with a gentle clang and I nervously glance
around, wondering how stable it is. Obi-Wan quickly exits and then
sidles off down the hall, almost invisible in the flickering
shadows. He's racing, like an insubstantial ghost, a fleeting
mirage with one destination in mind. I must hurry to keep up with
him and when I round a corner, he's gone.
There's nothing before me but a blank wall...and a pit. Probably
an old exhaust vent or something, the walls are covered with a
lecherous dripping slime and the smell is noxious. I peer over the
edge, having to draw on the Force to make out what lies below.
There. A small figure, landing neatly, as if the drop of five or
so stories meant absolutely nothing.
It's easy for a Jedi to do, so once I am sure Obi-Wan is clear of
the area, I leap over the edge.
One thing my dark shroud cannot hide is the clatter of my boots
hitting the metal floor and Obi-Wan, at the end of the corridor,
turns in alarm. Desperate for inspiration I gaze around wildly, my
eyes falling on a side tunnel. With a flick of my wrist an
apparition of a swamp rat pokes his nose around the corner before
scurrying away. Obi-Wan looks immensely relieved and then his face
rearranges itself into that frightening intensity and he continues
onward.
This place is another of Coruscant's secrets. I sense that more
strongly than ever before. As we continue travelling down
corridors I become aware that this place has remained free of
sentient habitation for many years. Obi-Wan is the only one who
travels down here and I suspect that had I not been following, I
would never have stumbled across it. Sometimes, parts of the
universe can be hidden from those not looking for it.
We pass door after door, each one labelled with a number. There is
no obvious pattern to the numbering - I go by 4, 1563 and 72 within
a few short paces. Finally, Obi-Wan pauses in front of a door
absent of features save for its number. 244. He places one hand
against the blank entrance and pushes. It silently slides aside,
exhibitive of well-kept mechanics. I am not close enough to see
inside before it closes with nary a click.
And then I am alone in a dim, mouldy corridor far deeper undercity
than I ever wanted to be.
I shake off the Force-spell - it drains my energy and I need time
to recover. If his past trips are any indication, I know that Obi-
Wan will be inside for a while to come, and I have nothing to do
but hide out here until he is gone.
Unless.... I press my ear to the wall, not daring to reach out
with the Force, and thankfully, sounds travel through the thin
metal. Mechanic sounds, droids greeting Obi-Wan in the fawning way
that only droids can. "Master Obi-Wan, it is so good to see you!"
simpers one of them, the voice triggering a flash of memory which
I ruthlessly ignore. I do not want to remember C-3P0 holding the
lifeless body of my mother.
"What have you to report?" Obi-Wan all but snaps. His voice,
typically so empty and devoid of life, holds a surprising note of
hope and intrigued, I press closer to the wall.
"We have attempted Experiments 4536 through 4577."
"And?" Obi-Wan is holding his breath.
"The results have been negative."
There's a weary sigh, as if Obi-Wan expects this response. My
curiosity is piqued even further. Experiments? What could my
master be experimenting upon? New Jedi techniques...but he
wouldn't use mechanoids for that. Is he building something?
Growing something? I listen more closely.
"What about the crystals I brought back from Cytocia?"
There's a pause, and the gentle swish of Obi-Wan's robe crossing
the floor. Tapping noises and perhaps every droid within the room
is holding its breath until Obi-Wan explodes. "Nothing? Nothing?
I refuse to believe it!" There's a crashing noise as if he's
thrown something to the ground.
"Master Obi-Wan, it may be time to realise that no solution
exists..."
"No," Obi-Wan interrupts vehemently. "You will run the next set of
experiments and you *will not stop* until I visit here again. We
*will* find the key." His voice drops an octave and it becomes
wistful, melancholic. "Someday...."
He's crossing the room again; I hear the gentle tap of his boots on
the floor. Then he stops, his cloak rustles and an image flashes
into my mind of Obi-Wan with his hands pressed against a glass
barrier. "I miss you, Master," he says quietly. A long time
passes in silence.
Then suddenly he's coming back towards the door. It seems today's
visit is over and I quickly re-enable my Force shroud, slipping
down the corridor in the opposite direction of our earlier
entrance. The myriad of walls continues and I wonder, just
briefly, what other secrets lurk here before my attention returns
to Room 244.
Obi-Wan opens the door. His shoulders are slumped over, he looks
grey, defeated. It's the empty air I know so well. He doesn't
even bother to check the corridor as he wearily walks back to the
exit and I wonder how he will find the strength to make the leap
necessary to reach the upper levels.
And then I am alone, faced with a mysterious door holding answers
to at least one of Coruscant's great secrets. My heart is pounding
as I approach it, checking again for Obi-Wan's presence and finding
him long gone. I throw off the spell and push, gratified to see
the door quietly slip aside.
A laser bold whizzes past me. "Halt!" commands a voice and I
comply, not willing to risk my future on a trigger-happy droid. I
suspect that Obi-Wan would not program them to kill but one can
never be too sure, especially given that the master might just be
insane.
"I am Padawan Skywalker," I say meekly, making my eyes as wide as
possible. Even droids fall for the guileless blue. "I am Master
Obi-Wan's apprentice and he asked me to give you new instructions
for the experiments." I keep my eyes carefully forward even though
I am longing to look around.
The droids, foolish creatures, tilt their heads from side to side
in an approximation of humorous human behaviour. I have little
tolerance for such mannerisms but know I must bide my time. "That
does not compute," says a droid, the one holding the blaster. He
shoulders it higher. "You will leave immediately."
"As you wish," I say, waving my hand. Oh, what a pity, the droid
seems to have blown its servo-motor. Small tendrils of smoke drift
from its body and another droid covers it with extinguishing fluid.
"As I was saying," I address the remaining droids who appear to
have been built for delicate work rather than defence, "I am here
with my master's authority to give you new instructions for your
work." I pause. "First, I must assess the status of your current
intiatives. Master Obi-Wan has not been himself of late."
To my surprise, a droid, one of those fussy protocol types, agrees.
"Master Obi-Wan may be ill indeed," it says. I hide my smile,
thankful for the programming that causes droids to do all that is
possible to 'protect' their owners from possible harm or danger,
even from within. I take its words as permission to proceed and
step forward, allowing the door to silently slide closed behind me.
I am in room 244.
I gaze around. The expected workbench, control equipment, and
there, to the left, the shadowy part of the room. Dim beams of
light are shining from a reflective surface and I must adjust my
angle to see what truly lies within. Another step forward, moving
inexorably towards the tank.
I pause, the sound of my blood thundering in my ears. There is
not...it is not...not possible! Not permissible!
And finally, everything makes sense. The tank is filled with a
viscous red liquid, vaguely reminiscent of bacta, but it appears
more gelatinous, ideal for keeping a specimen in suspended
animation for a lifetime. For that's what it is. A specimen. Not
a man any longer, not after all of this time.
I slowly wander around the tank until I am face to face with the
creature who floats in this jar. His eyes are closed and breathing
apparatus inflates his lungs at regular intervals. Another monitor
indicates that his heart is beating. A slow smile curves across my
face. "Hello, Master Qui-Gon," I say.
Pressing my hands against the glass, I sense Obi-Wan's frustration
and fury at his inability to do anything, and yes, I sense his
tears as well. How many times has he stood in this exact same
spot, staring at his former master, willing him to wake up? But
that will never happen. I can see the past, it's woven into the
very fabric of the air and glass, a tragic history tracing back to
that moment on Naboo.
Qui-Gon, or more correctly, his body, is exactly as I recall it.
The proud warrior, apparently not having aged a day. I frown as I
stare at the liquid again, knowing that such longetivity products
are strictly forbidden on Central Worlds. Then again, preserving
the body of a Jedi is also forbidden and that certainly didn't stop
Obi-Wan.
Who did we burn? The question flies into my mind as memories of
that night return. I stare up at Qui-Gon's body, wondering if
perhaps Obi-Wan has developed a clone. The floating man is naked,
scars of lightsaber burn pale pink on his chest. It must have
taken much energy for Obi-Wan to reconstruct the flesh, coaxing it
to grow, but he could not coax back the life. The scars, the soft
lines on the face, the length of hair - all serve to prove that
this is the body of the Qui-Gon Jinn we knew.
Perhaps it was an illusion which burnt on Naboo. Obi-Wan was alone
with the body for hours, I recall, and Amidala later told me that
he needed time to grieve. It seems that grieving was not all he
did. In that small space he managed to secret Qui-Gon's body away,
construct an elaborate replica, and convince even the most revered
of Jedi that he had accepted his master's death. No wonder there
were no tears at the funeral. Obi-Wan still had hope.
A hopeless hope, though. I know this even as I assess the
abomination before me. Blood runs through its veins, oxygen
inflates its lungs at the slow pace suspended animation requires,
but there is no spark, no life. Nothing of Qui-Gon Jinn remains
but the empty shell.
I wonder if I can rectify that. My thoughts travel down the path
that Obi-Wan must have taken a hundred, a thousand times, that
memory exists within the cells of the body, and memory must be
triggered to animate the shell. But can it call back a soul? Can
anything restore a soul?
I never saw Qui-Gon's spiritual form. Yoda told me it was because
his death had been unexpected. "Too proud, was Master Jinn. Did
not believe he was mortal. Ready he was *not*." But what if it
was more than that? What if he was trapped because his body had
not been released?
What if his spirit does linger? Perhaps Obi-Wan is right.
Again, I circle the specimen, this time with a new gleam in my
eyes. Obi-Wan's droids have failed in their experiments but they
do not have the resources of a Jedi. I know my powers are greater
than that of Obi-Wan's.
What would he do if I brought his master back? Would he look at
me? Would he respect me? Would he see me for who I *am* rather
than Qui-Gon's last request?
Imagine what the Council would say. They could ignore me no
longer, I am Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One! The Chosen One.
They need me, I have a *destiny* and I deserve not only their
recognition, but their adulation.
And Qui-Gon Jinn, the great Jedi, the only father I ever knew. He
would care for me. He's the only one left in the universe that
could ever since her royal highness began making eyes at Bail and
told me that I was only a boy.
I am facing Qui-Gon again and his eyes are still closed but I
imagine that steadfast blue looking out at me. "Come now, Ani..."
he said. He would want this. I close my eyes, and I *reach*.
The Force wraps around me like the comforting cocoon it is, but
this time it is not enough, I need more. The light energies cannot
touch what I have to do so I call on the darker power, the power
that everyone warns me about, but they do not realise how loyal
this power can be. Whenever I call upon it, it recognises me, it
surrounds me like a lover and I do not understand how it could be
bad. It whispers in my ear and this time, I whisper back.
I reach further outwards, sending my sight and the Force into Qui-
Gon's body, sensing his form jerk with the sudden influx of energy.
That's right, Qui-Gon, allow your heart to beat naturally, suck in
the air of your own accord. Let my thoughts run through your
veins, capturing the echos of your thoughts, merge with me, master,
hear the call of the Force and return.
You are there, I sense you. You're watching silently and a frown
crosses your face, Master, do not be sad. I am returning you to
your natural state and you can atone for your great mistake. I
*reach* again and pull and I feel you inside of me and we are
mixed, together, with the power of the Force and I can hear the
screaming, the screaming!
And then it rushes away and the winds die down and I once again
realise where I am. If droids could look terrified, these would,
they are huddled in a corner. The room glows softly.
Qui-Gon opens his eyes.
---
End.
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