Qui-Gon was just stepping out of the lift that exited into the Council chamber receiving lobby when the ancient doors swung open.
"Enter Master Jinn. We have already begun," Mace Windu called not unkindly. Qui-Gon stepped inside and found another Master and Padawan there as well. Though he spent little time around the Temple, he recognized the pair. Master Djinn had just recently taken a new Padawan after a sabbatical on Ithor, "I believe know Master Altis Djinn?"
"I have heard of him," Qui-Gon tried to keep his weariness from creeping into his voice as he extended a hand to the fellow Master.
"And I most certainly have heard of you," the Master gripped his extended hand, "Your reputation precedes you. My most sincere condolences on the loss of your Padawan."
Qui-Gon's stomach lurched, but he managed to keep his countenance steady, "Thank you."
Altis put his hands on the shoulders of the young girl in front of him with malt brown hair and smoky gray eyes, "This is my new Padawan Callista Ming."
"Padawan Ming," Qui-Gon inclined his head. The girl blushed and bowed in return. Formalities aside, the three Jedi turned to face the Council.
"Senator Palpatine has been informed of the turn of events of your last mission Qui-Gon. He sends his gravest condolences." Qui-Gon nodded, not really wanting to hear the sympathy of the man Obi-Wan had so distrusted, "However, this does not mean that we can neglect his request," Mace Windu paused, knowing his next words would not be well received by his old friend, "The kidnappings in the Naboo system must still be investigated. You must accompany Master Djinn and Padawan Ming to the Naboo system and complete the mission."
"Masters, with all due respect, could Altis and Callista go on their own? I do not feel ready to return to the field just yet."
"Ask you to do this now, we would not Qui-Gon, if it were not necessary," Yoda said, not meeting his last Padawan's eyes.
"You received Senator Palpatine's briefing, and more importantly, his trust," Plo Koon leaned forward.
"As you wish, my Masters," Qui-Gon bowed again, though the Council knew he was unhappy. In truth, they could not blame him. None of them had wanted to force the Master to return to the mission that had taken Obi-Wan away from him, but Senator Palpatine had again insisted that Qui-Gon remain on the mission. No amount of persuasion would change his mind.
"Leave tomorrow your ship does. May the Force be with you," Yoda dismissed the three. They exited together and paused in the lobby just outside.
"Master Jinn, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you're being required to accompany us. I am sure right now, you wish to be alone to come to terms with yourself."
"Thank you for your consideration, Master Djinn. When is it convenient for you and your Padawan to depart tomorrow?"
Altis glanced down at Callista, "Is 0900 too late?"
"0900 is fine," Qui-Gon nodded, "Good day to you both. If you require anything of me, I should be in my quarters most of the day." With that, he took his leave, wandering out to the balconies rather than the lift that would return him to the residence division.
"Master Jinn feels unbalanced," Callista observed quietly when the tall Jedi had moved beyond hearing range.
"That is the rift left by the broken bond between he and Obi-Wan you feel." Altis stared sadly after him. "Before much longer, you and I will share such a bond, my Padawan."
He knew Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi by reputation only. Qui-Gon was notoriously a loner, even with the two Padawan's before Kenobi. His first had become a solid Knight, often sought after for difficult missions like her Master before her. The two remained good friends to this day, but she was away on the edge of the Unknown Regions on mission and would continue to be incommunicado for several months. As for his second apprentice, Xanatos... well, the whole Temple knew that situation. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been the only person who could ever make the legendary Master come out of his shell and brighten. It had been a remarkable thing to hear of and must have been more remarkable to see the solitary Knight become a father. Altis knew it had to be remarkable, because having to watch him without the boy pained him so much that he drew Callista a bit closer to him. Callista seemed to feel her Master's mood and placed a hand over his. The two turned and walked towards the lift to take them back to their quarters to begin preparing for their first mission as a team.
*****
Senator Palpatine paced in this private chambers on Nubin III, the small,
outermost moon that orbited his home planet. It had become the place where
he most often sought solitude away from the drone and tedium of life on
Coruscant. It was also a place to meditate and to prepare. Only his most
trusted advisors accompanied him here, for it was here that the only
condemning clues to his ultimate plan were hidden. Nubin III was uninhabited
and generally considered unfit for even considering colonization, it was
perfect, as was his plan, until the Kenobi brat began making trouble.
It had been so easy up to this point. He had had his eyes on the boy for many years, much longer than the Council had. He had met him when he was but six years old and he, himself, was a newly appointed Senator on a standard tour of the Temple for new officials. The tour proved to be disappointing, as it showed only the places that they, as government officials, would be expected to be familiar with: conference rooms, mediation halls, and the Council chamber. It was during this tour that an out of place initiate had joined their group and even completed the tour with them. Had it not been for Bail Antilles, his elaborate plans would not have been necessary. Obi-Wan Kenobi would have walked out the door with him almost ten years ago. Palpatine could sense the power in the child from the moment he had scampered around a corner, chasing a rainbowfly. The child shone in the Force with light. It was that light that Palpatine instantly felt a passionate desire to eclipse with the darkness his recently deceased Master had taught him with such care. The child had power within him that he suspected had not yet been discovered by the Jedi, occupied as they were with so many initiates. It was that day that Palpatine imprinted himself on Obi-Wan Kenobi, making it possible to cause the night terrors the child suddenly began experiencing and the sudden bouts of violent sickness with no apparent cause from a distance. The child possessed a quick temper, which Palpatine had augmented. Seven years later, he almost won when the Jedi sent the boy away to Bandomeer, but, cursedly, Qui-Gon Jinn had interfered with his plans. He rather suspected that he had repaid the Knight for that setback. He knew the agony a broken bond caused the participants. Even in unconsciousness, Kenobi had screamed for hours. All would be as he planned now. Jinn had taught Kenobi well, and the boy had seen through his manipulation.
The invasion of Kenobi's mind had been sadistically satisfying. He had delighted in crushing each carefully laid shield one at a time. After his men had rendered him unconscious on board the transport ship, Palpatine had seen to it that the body of another boy had been dressed suitably and hurled out the airlock. His men had also succeeded taking blood from the unconscious Padawan and smearing it about the hatch. It was too bad he'd been forced to kill those men. They had done well.
The unconscious apprentice captured, he had put him into a deep sleep before beginning his anticipated task. He so enjoyed destroying what the strong boy had worked so hard to build. Once Obi-Wan's mind had been laid bare before him, Palpatine delved into each memory he shared with his Master, choosing suitable ones that would make the boy believe he had been abandoned. Jinn had always been guarded in his trust, and he had not changed. Every remembrance he had used should have worked. The boy should have believed his Master had plotted his demise. He should have been destroyed and ripe for the taking. Evidently, he had underestimated Jinn and Kenobi. The boy had kept his faith in his Master through some knowledge that he had been unable to uncover.
Palpatine sat down in his chair behind a desk and swiveled around to face the canyon outside. No matter, if the boy would not turn on his own, he could be, persuaded to do so. He could remember the teenager's words.
"Senator, I have spent my life training to be a Jedi. It is all I have ever wanted. It is all I have ever dreamed of. To me, anything else in life that I could be doing is unbecoming of everything I believe in and hold dear."
Yes, he would enjoy hearing that strong, confident voice surrender. He sighed, yes, a broken spirit was never as strong as one who submitted willing, but it tended to be more obedient. After his last apprentice, he thought, turning to the carbon-frozen figure mounted on one wall of his office, perhaps obedience should be paramount this time.
Yes, he would enjoy hearing that strong, confident voice surrender. He sighed, yes, a broken spirit was never as strong as one who submitted willing, but it tended to be more obedient. After his last apprentice, he thought, turning to the carbon-frozen figure mounted on one wall of his office, perhaps obedience should be paramount this time.
*****
Cold... he was so cold. Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of his now dark and dank cell, complete with bars that he had envisioned in his earlier room. He had been stripped of all his clothes, save his shorts. He was thankful for that one small decency. He noticed the temperature dropping almost
immediately. His breath crystallized in front of him as he tried to regulate
his breathing. He knew from his class on human anatomy and physiology that
you lost heat through expired air, so he tried to breath as slowly and
controlled as he could. And so he sat, keeping his body tight to preserve as
much heat as possible, and contemplated his situation. He had no idea where
he was, no idea who was holding him, no idea why he was being held, and had
been unable to find any way out of his cell. There was no guard, but the
electrolock on the door jolted him if he tampered with it. His lightsaber
had been taken when he had been none too gently escorted from the dining hall
in which he had encountered the shrouded man who had captured him.
So much for taking stock, he sighed. The sound of grating stone drew his attention. He squinted in the near pitch-blackness to see what was happening. The sound of rushing water was preceded by a sudden onslaught from one corner of the ceiling. He gasped at the bite of the frigid liquid pooling around his ankles and jumped to his feet as the level became deeper and deeper. It stopped when it reached the level of his knees, but the grating of stone on stone grew louder. He turned, shivering more than ever with the added bitterness of the water, and tried to see what was happening now. The answer, quite literally, hit him in the head as the ceiling closed down on him fast. He sank lower into the frigid water. Was this to be it, he wondered, a slow, icy death by drowning? His question was again answered when the ceiling’s descent stopped near the floor. Obi-Wan was forced to sit in the glacial water, his shoulders and head the only things remaining dry. He closed his eyes and pulled himself into the smallest ball that he could in the corner of the room. His teeth clacked together violently, his body wracking with tremors. He was so, so cold. Another sound forced his eyes open. What was happening now? But it wasn’t the sound of stone on stone. It was a cry, low and distant. There it was again, louder this time, coming from the hallway outside…a low, echoing moan, full of pain and fear. A second cry joined it, this one the scream of a soul in utter agony…a baby screeched in torment. A cacophony of sounds barraged the young Jedi:
"Please, somebody help me!! PLEASE!!!"
"Leave me alone! I swear it wasn’t me, leave me alone!!!"
"I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know anything!!"
"Padawan!! You must help me Padawan!!" Obi-Wan gasped. It was his Master’s voice, "Please Padawan, where are you?! Obi-Wan, get me out of here!"
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes closed, his heart hammering in his chest. My Master’s not here. My Master’s not here. "My Master’s not here. My Master’s not here." He found himself saying it aloud, but the pleas of his Master were swallowed into the chorus of voices, all howling in their suffering. Shakily, he brought his hands to his ears, praying he could drown out the sound, but it was in vain. The voices grew louder, seeming to come from inside his head.
The young Jedi jumped, hitting his head on the low ceiling as something huge began pounding on the door.
"Let us in!" It growled, "I’m going to rip you to pieces…LET US IN!!!" The being threw itself against the door. Snarling joined the cries of pain.
Strength over fear; strength over fear; "Strength over fear; strength over fear." He recited, clinging to the only thing he knew he could, his training, as he kept his eyes closed tight and ears clamped shut. He rocked his body, half to generate warmth, half to keep himself sane… "Strength over fear; strength over fear; strength over…"
*****
Palpatine watched young Kenobi on the small personal vid screen from his
office. The boy was handling himself admirably. No doubt his Master and the
Jedi would be pleased, but this was just the beginning.
"Master?"
Palpatine turned. His aide had been observing the events with him quietly.
"What is it?"
"Forgive me Master, but why is it so important that this boy become an ally? Surely it would be much simpler to eliminate him. Why go to all this trouble?"
"The most luscious rewards in our lives are the ones we put much effort into. I have foreseen that Kenobi will become one of the greatest Jedi Knights this galaxy has ever seen. He will be instrumental in my downfall. However, if he could be turned, he would be a powerful ally. It’s rather poetic, don’t you think? I will turn my greatest enemy into my greatest creation."
The aide watched the vid screen, seeing the young Jedi hug his knees tightly to his chest, chanting a litany he could not hear and winced inwardly. He was felt fortunate he had none of Kenobi’s gifts, for they seemed to bring the child nothing but pain. This had been going on for close to ten hours now. The boy was shivering violently, his lips the color of Naboo’s pure skies.
When Ilimin was assigned to serve Senator Palpatine, he had cried the tears of a man whose dream had come true….not to just serving a senator, but to serve the venerable Palpatine himself. He had grown up a poor orphan on the streets of Theed. He had watched the old King’s rise to greatness and, recently, his continuing fall to sickness. It would not be long before a new ruler would need to be chosen. He had done all he could to show loyalty to his station, and it had paid off…but not the way he had wanted. He had gained Palpatine’s trust all right, and now he knew more than he ever wanted to. He would go back to being that poor orphan, sleeping in the canals and begging for food, if he could just rid himself of the knowledge he now possessed. It was too late now, however, and he was in too deep.
He observed the man he had so revered now, his eyes gleaming, watching the agony he was causing another. He reveled in it. Ilimin suspected that if the pain of others were tangible, the man would bathe in it in an attempt to seep it into his very pores. He would drink their blood and taste their fear.
Palpatine licked his lips ferally and flicked his fingers towards the image, "And now for something different…"
*****
Qui-Gon stared blankly at the datareader in front of him, attempting to
make it gurther than the opening paragraph for the eighth time. There was
little briefing that he had not done when he and Obi-Wan had first started
out on this mission. However, three more children were now missing…well,
four. The situation had changed and so must his view of the mission, and so,
he reviewed the data from a different point of view. This time, he did not
know his partners. He did not know how they thought, how they negotiated, or
how they fought, should the situation take a turn for the worse. He didn’t
even know if young Callista could hold her own in a fight. Qui-Gon sighed.
He supposed he should sit down with Altis and discuss these matters, but at
the moment, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. No, that wasn’t
true…he wanted nothing more than his Padawan at his side. Rubbing his eyes,
the master turned back to the datareader.
Altis Djinn toweled the sweat from his brow as he made his way through the ship from the cargo bay where he had been teaching his Padawan a new kata. She wasn’t catching on very well. Callista excelled at computers, politics, and negotiation. She was already an efficient ambassador. Altis wouldn’t hesitate to allow her a voice when negotiating a treaty…but if things turned ugly, the girl would be in serious trouble. Ahead in the lounge, he saw Qui-Gon sitting in front of a datareader, his eyes staring off into space. He had noticed the younger Master doing much of that on their journey. He knew that the man’s thoughts were nothing but a young man he’d never had the honor of meeting. He’d heard tales of Jinn and Kenobi. The boy was said to be as able a swordsman as his Master and would likely be the best the order had ever seen. Of course, that was said every few generations. Still, he remembered when he first heard the name Obi-Wan Kenobi and couldn’t help but feel that there was something special that rang inside him with that name.
No matter now. Djinn moved silently through the room, not wishing to disturb the other Master.
"It’s ok Altis," Jinn turned in his seat, "I certainly was not concentrating."
"You were lost in thought nonetheless. I did not wish to bother you."
"Actually, I wanted to speak with you." He allowed the other Master to sit, draping a towel around his shoulders as he did, "I know very little of you or your Padawan. I do not know your capabilities. It would be helpful if I were allowed to spend some time with the two of you, learn how you think. I would also like to spar with your Padawan, if you would allow, so that I may learn how she moves in a fight."
"I think that would be an excellent idea Master Jinn, thought I can tell you know, how Callista moves in a fight is simply, very little. She is a much more proficient ambassador than swordsmen."
"We each have our own strengths," Qui-Gon said sincerely, "Force willing, her negotiating skills will negate the need for combat." The tall master shook his head, "I was always trying to drill that into Obi-Wan when he practiced. He was so focused on…" He stopped abruptly, realizing that he was drifting off again into the past.
"It’s all right to remember, Qui-Gon," Altis offered, "Though I never met him, I heard much of Obi-Wan while at the Temple. That says much to his credit as well as yours. A fine Padawan, I heard he was."
"In all sincerity, with no pride or prejudice, he was the best I’d ever seen," Qui-Gon looked down.
Altis followed his gaze, "I lost my first Padawan." Qui-Gon looked up sharply to meet the other Master’s eyes, "It was a boy, Judin Wathmarool. He was killed right by my side, stabbed in the back by a Drackmarian pirate. They had captured our transport and were holding us for ransom of all things." Altis shook his head, the muscle in his cheek twitching slightly, the only sign of the old man’s anger, "It was stupid. Everyone knows that the Jedi Council does not honor ransom demands. They killed him as a demonstration of their ability to do so. It seemed at the time, a pointless, meaningless death. He was only fourteen years old," he added softly.
"That’s how I feel," Qui-Gon admitted painfully, "It was pointless! If the Force saw the need for Obi-Wan to join it, it should have meant something!" He pounded his fist on the table, letting loose thoughts and feelings he’d held inside, "So many times, he could have died. He could have died on Bandomeer for me or on Melida/Daan for the children of that world and the peace they sought. Why did he have to die en route to a mission by unidentified attackers!"
Altis sat through his outburst with nothing but understanding. Qui-Gon breathed, knowing that he was losing control and not sure that he even cared.
"I cannot pretend to know your pain. No one, Qui-Gon, will ever know your pain, because they did not lose Obi-Wan, but I can tell you this. Almost two years after Judin was killed, I learned that shortly after I escaped from the pirate’s ship, the ship’s first officer killed the Drackmarian captain for what he did. He was a renegade Camaasi. I know, quite rare," he added, seeing his fellow Jedi’s surprise, "but we both know the allegence all Camaasi have to the Jedi. After that, the Camaasi took over the ship and turned it into a refugee transport. It still operates under the Camaasi’s son, evacuating refugees from planets where they are persecuted. Thousands of lives have been saved, all because of what happened to my Judin." Altis placed a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, "The ways of the Force are elusive, and indeed, not always made known to its servants. But trust in this my friend, nothing is meaningless."
TBC
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