Jedi Council Forums - One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda)

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Author	Topic: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Mar. 1
Amidolee Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 11/10/05 6:12am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 10
	Yeah, I know, I'm evil for the flashback/cliffie extension, but it's kind off for the present Obi's benefit, in a way. Aside from Sabe's 'shadow game' which was factor in his not quite catching on for awhile, it's also been ten years and she's quite changed, so his inability to connect the dots isn't just due to Obi being a little slow in the mornings, etc. I'm thinking when I do the next flashie, I'll just pop the next bit on as well, so you won't all kill me. We'll see how the weekend goes. I'm currently supposed to be reading Ulysses . . . -----signature----- Mar. 1 - One Prick to Bleed: http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/20423905/p1 "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness." Dean to Sam in Roadkill.
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AngelQueen Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 11/10/05 9:01am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 10
	Amidolee posted: Yeah, I know, I'm evil for the flashback/cliffie extension, but it's kind off for the present Obi's benefit, in a way. Aside from Sabe's 'shadow game' which was factor in his not quite catching on for awhile, it's also been ten years and she's quite changed, so his inability to connect the dots isn't just due to Obi being a little slow in the mornings, etc. You're right. Despite the extending of the cliffie, it really does make sense for the flashback to happen here. Obi-Wan's just figured out, but I doubt he really wants to believe it. So, he goes back to what is perhaps his most vivid memory of her: that night at the celebration, and compares what was and what is. shakes head Poor guy. He's in for a rude awakening. Amidolee posted: I'm thinking when I do the next flashie, I'll just pop the next bit on as well, so you won't all kill me. We'll see how the weekend goes. I'm currently supposed to be reading Ulysses . . . The next flashie and then return to the present in the next post?! throws confetti around Woo! Of course, that begs the question as to what will happen now that Obi-Wan knows... What will Sabé do now? Can't wait! AQ -----signature----- "Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!" "If you're not with me, then you're my enemy." "Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must." "You will try." Obi-Wan and Anakin
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Miana Kenobi Title: Pacific RSA & NSWFF Mod On Limited Time Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 11/11/05 1:14am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 10
	“Perhaps you should relax and enjoy the evening,” he said mildly. You’re a hypocrite, Kenobi. “Like you?” She grinned. “I am enjoying it.” “Yes. That’s why you look ready to behead the first person to wander over for punch.” “I do not,” he said, though he sensed it was probably true. LOL!! Obi-Wan Kenobi, guarder of punch bowls. But, of course, the second rule of the Temple was never to twitch before a Council member. Yoda said nothing, and Obi-Wan missed the Jedi Master staring intently after her, lost deep in thought. smacks Obi-Wan See? This whole thing is YOUR FAULT! ACK! Thers' still no end to the cliffie? EVIL!! Can't wait for more! -----signature----- President of San Diego FanForce He tini nga whetu e ngaro I te kapua iti. Dyslexics of the world, UNTIE!
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Senator_Lorena Registered: Oct '03	Date Posted: 11/11/05 2:36pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 10
	Very nice flashback. It is good to see the younger Sabe and Obi. Poor Obi. He was going through so many changes. It's easy to understand his dread of the next day. And Sabe was so innocent. It is a shame her life twisted in such a negative way. Great job as always. Hope the research paper went well! ~SL~ -----signature----- "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. ~ Less Brown "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." ~ John 3:17 NIV
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Amidolee Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 11/15/05 11:26am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 14
	Long postie, folks! As I promised, I continued on past the flashback. ~~~ A buzzing din reverberated under the soaring, elegant arches, filling air left empty from the Theed orchestra’s bowing chords. Curious murmurs rippled through the mass sound as the familiar, celebrated instruments and skilled musicians were replaced by mottle orange Gungans strumming and tuning instruments most Naboo had never seen or heard before this afternoon’s celebration parade. From the corner of her eye, Sabé watched the assembling band as she filled her cup with punch and drank thirstily. Half the night had gone with an amazing, unexpected lack of drag. She grinned a little to herself as she dabbed at her moist, punch-topped lips. Her feet ached a bit from the dance floor, and even her heart still hammered a little, but it was the swelling of pride that made her grin, made her glad take another cupful of cold, refreshing punch. Sabé turned from the refreshment table and spotted Amidala and Eirtaé approaching, Saché and Rabé in tow. Eirtaé winked at Sabé, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Your Highness,” Sabé said, bowing her head. Amidala grinned. “Glad to see you’re enjoying your evening, my friend.” “Fine.” Sabé rolled her eyes. “I admit it. I am having a little fun.” “Took her three dances before she stopped scanning, however,” murmured Eirtaé. That’s what you think, Sabé thought, hiding a sly grin behind another drink. Even now she was aware of Panaka and Yané’s subtle flanking positions, took note of those within probable hearing or striking distance. Three Jedi Masters were seated nearby, one a bald, dark-skinned male, a female with tinted skin, and a short, bat-earred alien of some sort. She had not doubt they were likewise observing, though they appeared to be in mild conversation. The left side of Saché’s cloak twitched ever-so-slightly, and Sabé, under the pretense of examining Eirtaé’s earrings, moved closer. “Was that Alek I saw you dancing with earlier?” Saché’s eyes glittered under her cowl’s shadow, a mischievous grin quirking her lips. “Yes.” Sabé again felt intense pride at this. “Who’s this?” Amidala asked quietly, a hint of girlish intrigue upon her serene royal mask. “Just someone from my old school,” shrugged Sabé. No blush rose to her cheeks. She grinned, thinking back on the evening. Oh yes, she had been shocked as anything to see him standing before her, and even more so when he asked for a dance. But that was all. Somehow she had not turned redder than a losma bud, and, astoundingly, she could speak and fully function around him. “Not just any someone,” Saché teased. “A special someone. Sabé could never speak before him. She died every time he was nearby.” Eirtaé cackled and Amidala raised an eyebrow. “She’s only slightly exaggerating,” Sabé admitted. “But that was school.” “It was a half year ago!” “Yes, but even so,” she said primly. Sabé finished her punch and grinned at Eirtaé. “How goes your evening?” “Swimmingly.” The slightly taller handmaiden patted her stunning, gold embroidered white gown. “I think Lord Morfala was hinting at marriage, but I hinted not in my most inebriated dreams.” Amidala looked disturbingly wistful as the handmaidens tittered quietly. “Maybe I should have made Sabé decoy for me again this evening.” “What? So you can fend off indecent proposals by old, wealthy men?” The young queen smiled sheepishly. “No, of course not. I just meant—” “We know,” Sabé patted her hand. Her mind slipped away from the conversation, and she turned, as if someone had called her name. She spotted Obi-Wan Kenobi almost instantly, across the room and surrounded by inquisitive Naboo. The young Jedi looked immensely . . . well, constipated, if one was to be blunt about it. Sabé recalled the expression on his face when Alek had led her away from the Jedi trio. Perhaps a little . . . betrayed? As if she had left him in a pit with hungry, rabid mynocks. Or it could have been her imagination. Very little but intense grumpiness—as Eirtaé put it—showed in the young Jedi’s handsome features. Now, as she looked, Obi-Wan turned slightly and caught her. Several times that evening she’d traded looks with him, almost hearing him ask Can I go now? He looked downright miserable then, and, if possible, even more so now. “ . . . brings us back to your hypothetical, Sabé.” Sabé whipped around, startled. “What?” Amidala raised her eyebrows, her perfectly painted lips twitching. “We were just discussing you and your minding of Jedi Kenobi.” “Oh.” Sabé frowned, not missing Saché’s barely muffled snort. “Yes?” She’d hinted to Amidala earlier, after the queen had taken her turn at speaking to the Jedi. “Ordinarily I would retire at the orchestra’s interlude,” said Amidala, “but I believe I should listen to the Gungans’ own musical movement.” She said this beautifully, graciously, yet Sabé could read from her, clear as Basic, I would like to go now, but forming good relations is forming good relations, so I’ll bear through it someway, somehow, woe. “So,” she continued, “if in a hypothetical situation a hypothetical honored guest wished to politely leave without disgrace, then that hypothetical person may leave after enjoying the Gungan opening.” “Hypothetically,” Eirtaé coughed. “I think, hypothetically, you need to brush up on your code,” said Sabé. She glanced over her shoulder again, feeling distinctly as if she were being watched. From this distance, it was difficult to tell for certain whether Obi-Wan was vying to visually plead with her, but she knew he was also very good at staring without appearing to. Still, the back of her neck prickled. “The Jedi are not much for parties, are they?” said Eirtaé. “I invited Kenobi to dance, but he declined.” “Me as well,” said Sabé. “Maybe you should ask one of the Masters?” “The other human looks grumpier than he does, and I didn’t think it was possible.” Eirtaé shrugged. “No matter. I have little trouble finding a partner.” She raised a fair eyebrow. “Neither do you.” “You exaggerate.” Sabé waved a hand dismissively, and then grinned wickedly. “However, I have just become a little richer. Rabé and I win.” Amidala’s mouth dropped and Eirtaé looked thoroughly impressed while the other handmaidens barely contained their gasps. “You actually asked?” “Heavens, no! I could never directly ask that!” The thought alone heated her cheeks, but she fought the rushing blood down. “Then how do you know?” Amidala wanted to know. She, of all of them, had looked most embarrassed when the bet had been placed in the royal chambers. Despite herself, however, she now looked genuinely curious. “Oh, I just hinted that Lady Brusskah would consider him an evening well spent and—” She leveled the giggling handmaidens with a stern look (appearances must be kept, after all). “—and he simply confirmed emotional and physical attachments are out of the question.” Sabé allowed herself an immodest grin. “So, cough up tonight.” “Maybe he just said that because he doesn’t like blondes,” Saché suggested innocently, earning a scowl from Eirtaé. “You just don’t want to pay,” Sabé accused. “We all honor our bets,” said Amidala. At that moment, Boss Noss and the Gungan Master of Ceremonies came forward, and Sabé and Eirtaé both bowed away to let royalty be royalty. The Gungan musicians appeared to be done tuning and soon the second half of the evening would begin. “So, Jedi are celibate,” Eirtaé murmured, her eyes trailing across the open plain of the dance floor toward Obi-Wan Kenobi. “Pity.” Sabé suppressed an irritation with the seventeen-year-old handmaiden. She knew Eirtaé was not questioning duty, but for a moment the older girl’s teasing comment rankled. A few moments later the Gungan Master of Ceremonies struck up the evening, spilling lively, strange music into the palace ballroom. The two handmaidens laughed gleefully as Boss Noss led the obliging Queen Amidala into the congregation of energetic Gungans for what, it became apparent, was a reel significant to a Naboo Grand March. “I am so glad I’m not her right now,” said Sabé. “I’ll be sure to tell her.” Some of the braver—or maybe drunker—Naboo were venturing into the jovial melee, and Eirtaé gestured toward a cluster of young men she and Sabé had danced once or twice with. “Are you coming along?” “I’m surprised your dignity can bear it,” Sabé teased. Eirtaé sniffed, but the wine seemed to take the severity out of her. “I figure no one will remember by morning, anyway. And you?” “Maybe later.” Eirtaé pretended to pout before gliding away. Sabé slipped through the crowds gathering around the Gungan dance, glad to escape the possibility of yet more dances. She rather liked the fast, bouncing beat as it reminded her of village parties years ago and dancing with her father, who boomed when he sang. Her chest tightened at the memory and she bit her lip. Just yesterday she’d seen her father, just returned after five months due to the blockade, but he could not stay; supplies needed to be distributed all over the planet and he needed to get to Thasyin. Sabé ducked away from Alek as she caught sight of him again. Such a relief to discover she no longer carried a flame for him. She thought back, a little smile on her face, to her relief and disappointment to have escaped the school ball at the end of exams. No need to be thoroughly miserable and uncomfortable along the wall—she had taken her exams quietly and left for Theed. She’d given little thought to Alek then, and now, she could not believe only a half year had passed since. Still . . . she did not feel like accepting any more dances. Oh yes, she’d had fun. Once she realized she could hold a conversation and not fall on her face or damage anyone’s toes, she enjoyed herself. But it was boring. The handmaiden slipped through a parting in the crowd and caught sight of her destination. Tingles played along her neck as she neared, and she tightened her hold on a skip of apprehension. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood cornered by three Jedi Masters, looking properly attentive while still exuding the air of a frightened, trapped animal about to be eaten alive. Yoda and Depa Billaba were accompanied by a bearded, cone-headed Master. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes flickered toward her, and although his expression did not detectably change, Sabé swore she felt a jolt. Then he raised his eyebrows, just a tiny bit, and she nodded. Striding forward, urging her heart not to gallop and hammer about, Sabé cleared her throat. “Pardon me,” she said with a smile as the Jedi turned, “but may I pry Jedi Kenobi away? There are some people he must speak with.” As she spoke, she felt the flicker of darting, knowing Jedi eyes, and somehow, smoothly, her arm stretched through the group, parting it like water, and Obi-Wan floated gracefully to her, anchoring as she linked her arm through his. Then they were out of the group, matching pace perfectly although Sabé was actually leading, and Sabé actually felt her feet touching the smooth, firm floor. “Oh, by the gods,” she whispered. She would be fool to think she felt Obi-Wan’s relief, but it was like a wave breaking over her. Just as she was about to lead him down a curtained side corridor, Obi-Wan hesitated and glanced back, and Sabé followed his searching gaze. Anakin. “He’ll be fine,” she said quietly. “We’re looking after him.” Obi-Wan stayed very still for another second, then nodded and gestured for her to continue on, his face unreadable. Sabé led him down the corridor, passing an amorous pair or two, and then, with a quick glance around, pulled Obi-Wan around a statue and pressed her palm against the paneled wall. The barest flicker betrayed the holographic change and Sabé stepped forward, seemingly disappearing like a phantom into the wall. The Jedi followed a step behind. A sufficiently lit passageway stretched before them, wide enough to allow a fully gowned Queen and her escorts easy passage. Sabé turned to Obi-Wan, smiling with relief. She felt a little dizzy. “I cannot believe I just lied to Jedi Masters.” Obi-Wan bowed his head, a corner of his mouth twitching. “I am in your debt.” “You have done far more for us than I could ever repay,” Sabé said quietly. The intense shadow of his face deepened, so she said, “The palace is riddled with these passages. They’re very convenient for security or escaping long parties.” Obi-Wan followed her silently through the maze of passages she knew by heart. Finally they emerged on the other side of the palace in the guest corridor. It was empty except for the posted night watch, who would only see them as rounding the bend. The night breeze brushed her skin as she stepped into the corridor, and she could see the garden trees rustling gently along the open arches of the corridor’s west side. “Well, here you are,” she said, turning to Obi-Wan. In that single movement, her stomach emptied into some strange inner vacuum. Suddenly she wished they had not fled the ballroom. The Jedi’s eyes swept the corridor before falling to her, gratitude mixing with the deep sadness that had filled Obi-Wan Kenobi these past few days. Sabé felt her empty stomach tighten, felt silly and foolish and entirely too wistful. “Thank you,” Obi-Wan said softly. She wondered what exactly for . . . “The gardens are lovely at night, if you are not ready to retire,” she said quietly. Obi-Wan gave her an enquiring look, and Sabé blushed a little, grateful for the dimmer evening lighting. Her eyes trailed to his shoulder where the long, thin braid used to hang. How giddy and silly they had been, speculating about it, giggling over tugging it, releasing their nerves on such superfluous talk. “Sabé?” She glanced up and blinked. Obi-Wan was staring at her, as if wondering if she were quite all right. “Sorry,” she said, again feeling a hint of a blush coming on. And tonight she’d been doing so well! “It’s just—your braid. I’m not used to it being gone. Silly, I know.” Obi-Wan smiled slightly then, apparently amused, though sadness touched it. “I’m not quite used to it, either.” His gaze drifted away, perhaps searching through the curving walls to the ballroom, to the past. “Don’t worry about Anakin tonight.” “I really shouldn’t leave him alone. He’s my responsibility.” “Leave him to us. We’ll properly exhaust him, so he’ll sleep at the trip’s start.” Obi-Wan gave her another grateful look. Then he raked his spiky hair, apparently lost for what to do. He looked exhausted and vulnerable, ready to fall apart but unwilling to do so. Sabé wondered if he realized this. “Goodnight, Obi-Wan.” She started to back away and turn— “Sabé.” Obi-Wan caught her hand and covered it with his other. “Thank you,” he said, voice tight, eyes filled with barely contained, chaotic emotion. “For—for everything.” She smiled, though she felt a lump in her throat, a skittering in her chest. “But I haven’t—” “No. Really.” His grip on her hands was tight; it seemed best to just let him have his say. “I’m glad to have met you, Sabé.” “And I you.” She tilted her head to the side. “Even if you were grouchy and made me twitchy at first.” There—a smirk. “Twitchy?” Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow. “Yes. I wanted to scream at you when Her Highness was briefing everyone on the ship. No,” she amended, “I wanted to scream many times before that.” “Deception often breeds paranoia,” the Jedi admonished lightly. Sabé rewarded him with a scowl and he chuckled under his breath. Her smile faded and she fought back a sigh. “I suppose this is good-bye, isn’t it? Tomorrow will be official, and . . .” It was no way to say good-bye to Obi-Wan. He seemed to understand and nodded, a trace of a sad smile curving his grim mouth. Sabé let out a sigh and shook her head. “I suppose Jedi say too many good-byes to count.” “Yes,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. “I wonder sometimes if I will ever cease to be amazed how quickly friends appear on missions. Friends I will more than likely never see again. Of course,” he amended wryly, “that is probably a good thing for them.” “It takes planetary disaster for a Jedi to visit.” “Perhaps someday the Council will believe in real holidays.” Sabé laughed, but it floated away into the night, again leaving her feeling strangely empty. Obi-Wan’s gaze drifted away, as if following it, and then he slowly looked down at her again, and Sabé sadly knew the inevitable had come, that anymore chitchat was pointless and flat. “Good-bye, Obi-Wan,” she said quietly, throat tight. Obi-Wan smiled softly. “Good-bye, Sabé.” He bowed and brushed a kiss over the top of her hand before letting go. Then they parted, turning away to separate lives. Sabé faded into the passage, glimpsing the cloaked form journeying down the corridor, the cast shadows enwrapping him, swallowing him, into a destiny unknown to her. She sucked in a deep breath, shook the heaviness to the back of her mind, and started back up the passage, back to the ball, back to her duties. ~~~ “Sabé.” It sliced her from shoulder to hip, a thick, screaming blade through her chest, making her gasp softly, and yet it punched through her gut, an iron fist, forcing air up through her slaughtered lungs. She closed her eyes against it. He knew. It was up it. It was over. He knew. Not why—but he knew her. In those two syllables, softly spoken but final in every way, she fell apart and came together. The shadow game fell away; her wall, her protection—gone. In that single breath, she was transformed from mere prisoner, anonymous with dutiful intent, to what she was, who she was, before his very eyes—and it left her cold. “It’s you, isn’t it.” No, no, it wasn’t her. Could not be her. Not Sabé Mabriee. Not ever. But the cold said, yes, it was her, did she not carry that name? In shadow, yes, not here on this metal floor, shackled and kneeling at her captor’s feet. Not with blood on her hands, blood all over her. Yes, yes, it was her, she knew this, knew it as she sucked in a shuddering breath—her lungs told her so. She wanted shadow, wanted anonymity, the stone cold of namelessness, of calculated, silent threat. Of knowledge beyond him, knowledge she could not speak. But he knew it now. Knew her now. “Yes,” Sabé breathed, opening her eyes to the floor. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood stock still. The cargo hold vibrated with his stillness. She fought to breathe under his stare, kept her head bowed, her shields up. The Force shifted uneasily about her, as if ducking her ragged breathing, unable to steady her. This changes nothing, she tried to tell herself. No—it changed everything. “Sabé,” Obi-Wan repeated, somehow beckoning her eyes to him. His gaze burned her like frost, but she did not look away, did not let her cheeks flush with shame. “I do not want to believe it,” said Obi-Wan, too tight to shake his head. Sabé said nothing. She was lost and gone, but she still had Yoda to protect, secrets to keep. Nothing to save herself, nothing to be done about that. The Jedi Knight’s icy, stern look dissolved some as he raked a hand through his ginger brown hair, conflict and confusion battling for leverage over him. Then the hard edge returned as he crossed his arms and regarded her coolly. “I spoke to Dormé a few weeks ago,” said Obi-Wan, “asking after you.” Sabé kept the frown from her face. One of the new handmaidens, no doubt. “She was reluctant to say anything, only that she knew nothing of a Sabé Mabriee, except that she left Senator Amidala and the topic was strictly forbidden.” Sabé’s jaw clenched. Obi-Wan fastened her with a severe, disgusted frown, stepping forward. “And to think you’ve become a bounty hunter—” Fury boiled in her, and before she could calm herself, Sabé used the Force to pull her up as quickly and smoothly as possible when to shackled to a pole. “I am not a bounty hunter!” she spat angrily. “Nor am I murdering Padawans!” Obi-Wan stopped short and Sabé sucked in a deep breath, glaring fiercely as her heart pounded frantically. The Jedi Knight stared at her for a second, then took another step forward, and Sabé pressed her back firmly against the pole and raised her chin defiantly. She would not be intimidated, and she needed to calm the hell down. “No?” said Obi-Wan in a quiet, deadly voice. “Did you not just attempt to murder my own Padawan?” He stood a head taller than her, and Sabé knew he must be able to hear her heart banging away against her ribs. But she leveled him a cool look, drew upon Yoda’s words, upon Skywalker’s deeds. “Yes,” she said. “Would you care to tell me why?” If not for her training, Sabé would have shivered at the cold, fatal intensity in Obi-Wan’s eyes and words. He was so close she caught his scent, could almost hear his silent, controlled breathing; she tingled with his familiar presence, purposely pressing along her defenses, scanning her, studying her, trying to find a way into her, through her. Sabé desperately wanted to break away, escape him, but she forced herself to keep glaring, keep resisting. “No.” Obi-Wan’s jaw tightened, hidden beneath his light beard, but Sabé could see it as if she’d felt it herself. He stepped back, and although every aspect of him exemplified Jedi calm, Sabé wondered if he needed to collect himself. Which was fine; she needed to collect herself. After a moment, Obi-Wan looked at her again, apparently serene and relaxed as if he’d invited her over for tea. “You were always full of surprises.” She said nothing, and a trace of a wry smile appeared on his face. “Except your silence is consistent, and that withering look will get you nowhere.” Sabé dug her nails into her palms. The manacles tightened and she forced herself to relax. How infuriating! “How about an easier question? Why are you no longer serving Senator Amidala?” “Ask her yourself.” “Dormé said you left.” Sabé gritted her teeth. After five years, it should not hurt so much, it should not smolder. Yet she could barely contain her anger and pain behind her tight shields, and from the flicker in Obi-Wan’s eyes, he’d picked up on it. “You say you’re not a bounty hunter,” said Obi-Wan, “yet you came well equipped for the job.” Sabé’s wrists itched from the manacles. The sickening memory of a previous captive sprung to mind. The reptilian bounty hunter . . . her first kill. “I’m . . . not.” She swallowed the bile in her throat. The brush of severed Padawan braids fell through her fingertips. I’m not that. I’m nothing like that. “And I don’t kill Jedi.” “Yet you admit you targeted Anakin.” “I said I don’t kill Jedi.” Obi-Wan’s brow knitted. “Are saying Anakin is not a Jedi?” Sabé said nothing, but she may as well have nodded. “Why would you say Anakin is not a Jedi?” “I suppose you should ask him about that,” she quipped. Shut up, you idiot! The Jedi Knight shook his head and leaned back against the wall, his blue-grey eyes never leaving her. Sabé could feel the Force shift around them, knew Obi-Wan never ceased in examining her through it. But her shields were firm. “You’ve been trained.” Sabé merely stared back, carefully expressionless. Obi-Wan smiled, gently mirthless. “You’ve been trained very well.” He looked thoughtful, curious as he openly studied. “Anakin wants to believe you are Sith, but I do not believe so. You feel . . . different.” Something flickered across his face, but then Obi-Wan’s thoughtful expression resumed. “Perhaps Count Dooku trained you?” Sabé could not keep her offense off her face. “No,” said Obi-Wan, scratching his beard. “It would have made for a nice, tidy explanation, though.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” Sabé said wryly. “Hmm.” The Jedi Knight grew quiet for a moment, then stood up and closed the space between them again. Sabé gripped the pole behind her back, feeling utterly wretched under his piercing gaze. Obi-Wan wanted to know, wanted to understand—and she could not tell him, even if she wanted to. “Why, Sabé?” he asked quietly. Sabé looked up at him for a long moment, painfully remembering the gratitude she’d seen in his blue eyes many years ago, the brief friendship she had never imagined would spur such a change in her life five years later. By the gods, it hurt. Obi-Wan watched the conflict mar her dark brown eyes, still marveling at his mind’s stubborn inability to match this woman to the memory. The soft innocence was gone, yet she almost rudely looked too familiar, a mock-up of how life forced people to harden. But the stony mask still fit, the low, controlled voice haunted his memory of her decoy and her lighter, natural voice. Still . . . this could not be right. The war in Sabé’s eyes cleared into opaque, and a faint, joyless smile touched her lips. “You understand duty, don’t you, Jedi Kenobi?” she said in a low voice. “Yes, but I fail to see how duty comes into this,” he said slowly. “You are no longer a handmaiden.” He touched it again—that scalding ice, that burn in her. Yet that insincere smile, that farce on her pale lips, remained. She stared at him, calculating, knowing. It chilled Obi-Wan. “Tell me, Obi-Wan,” she said. So quiet, so low. Tight and controlled. “If you were dismissed from the Jedi Order, would you cease to be a Jedi?” Obi-Wan breathed deeply. She knew his answer. “No.” What in Sith hells was going on? The hatch opened and Anakin strode in, his presence in the Force highly unsettled. Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He really should stop with the understatements. Highly unsettled, indeed. “Anakin,” he started— “I’ve had enough of this!” Anakin hissed. “Anakin, calm down,” Obi-Wan said firmly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Anakin shrugged it off, shooting him a dark look and gesturing angrily at Sabé. “Why haven’t you got real answers from her, Master?” he demanded. “For all we know, she could have sent that bounty hunter after Padmé!” “We’ve already been through that round of questions,” said Obi-Wan, reeling a little from the shock of Anakin’s anger. He did not need the Force to feel it. Anakin disturbed the very currents of the air, and Obi-Wan had a sinking feeling his Padawan’s anger control meditations needed some reinforcement. This has to be more than anger, he thought almost absently as Anakin wheeled around and stormed up to Sabé. The Jedi Knight caught a spark of fear from her, but she held her ground as Obi-Wan’s next thought formed into: Oh, oh this can’t be good. “You betrayed Padmé!” Anakin shouted in her face. Sabé gave a short, cold laugh. “It went the other way around.” Anakin Skywalker’s blood was boiling. His frustration and anger spun into a whirling vortex around a fear that had been creeping into him, a fear that she knew, that she somehow knew what had happened on Tatooine—but then this all screamedwhen she insulted Padmé! “Deceitful liar!” he shouted. He heard Obi-Wan bark at him, felt a hand grasp his shoulder, but Anakin ignored this, ignored all of it as he felt the Force swirl around him, pound into him like bidden thunder. “Yes, let’s talk about deceit and lying, Skywalker,” Sabé said, unable to stop her baiting. She should hush, but Skywalker’s lack of control, the very crackling of his overemotional madness, spurred to rise to it. She would not be cowed by him. And maybe . . . maybe this gamble would work. “Let’s talk about Tatooine! Or how about Padmé, your—” The blow sent her reeling. Through the explosion of pain she heard Obi-Wan shout. Somehow she stayed on her feet. Blackness almost pounded her down, but she kept it back, and sheer will lifted her head, righted her body from the bulkhead. She breathed heavily, the side of her head and face pure, throbbing agony. Obi-Wan was barely holding Skywalker back, in absolute shock and disbelief. Skywalker lifted a clenched fist, pure fury and barely disguised fear crackling from his eyes, sizzling the air around him. “You,” he breathed, “will answer my questions!” “Anakin—” Obi-Wan started, his voice tight with strain. “No, Obi-Wan! I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it!” He whirled around, knocking Obi-Wan into the bulkhead. “She will answer my questions!” Placing his hands on either side of her head, he said grimly, “Or no questions at all.” “Anakin—NO!” But Obi-Wan was too late. Too stunned—too paralyzed with disbelief. He felt a malevolent rush punch through the Force and Sabé barely contained a cry as it crashed down on her. The Jedi Knight tried to move, tried to act, but he was fastened in place as she sank to her knees, Anakin bowing over her as the hold throbbed with concentrated power. Then Sabé screamed, raw and tortured. Obi-Wan shoved hard against Anakin’s hold, shouting as he leapt on him, wrenching his hands away. With all his strength, Obi-Wan Kenobi did something he thought he would never do—he threw his Padawan against the opposite bulkhead. The dark, throbbing power disappeared, vacuumed out as Anakin slammed against the metal with a sickening crunch. He hit the floor, and despite everything that happened in the past seconds, Obi-Wan felt agonizing remorse at the dent in the metal. Anakin lay stunned and groaning. Reeling, the Jedi Knight spared a glance at Sabé. Trembling, chaotic pain filled the Force, but she was alive. Curled and sobbing as she convulsed. Knowing not what to do, only that he needed to do it and fast, Obi-Wan trusted his instincts and reached into the cleansing purity of the Force that wasn’t thundering around him and touched her forehead. He almost cried out at the painful touch, but kept his fingertips at her temples and let the healing Force soothe the pain, fill it until she quieted and stilled. “I . . .” Anakin was stirring behind him, a searing, erratic tear in the Force. Obi-Wan ignored him for a moment. Comprehension—where had that gone? “I—I don’t . . .” He could not ascertain the extent of the damage. It went beyond Sabé . . . beyond Anakin. “M-Ma-Master, I . . . I don’t know what happened . . .” Obi-Wan turned around then, for the moment completely emotionless as he regarded his apprentice. Anakin doubled over in pain, his face twisted as he struggled. Maybe the throw had injured him. Maybe not. “Master?” Silently, Obi-Wan passed his hand over his Padawan’s eyes. They closed and he slumped to the floor, and Obi-Wan suddenly knew what it was like to be in a black hole. -----signature----- Mar. 1 - One Prick to Bleed: http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/20423905/p1 "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness." Dean to Sam in Roadkill.
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AngelQueen Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 11/15/05 3:39pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15 - Date Edited: 11/15/05 3:42pm (1 edits total) Edited By: AngelQueen
	stares at the screen Oh dear lord... What has the brat done to her? sobs fearfully What did Sabé goad him into doing?! Is she... is she brain dead, or is her memory wiped, thus destroying any evidence of Yoda's part in the plot to get rid of the traitorous rat? Poor Obi-Wan... he's just been confronted with the fact that one of his old friends, someone he had quite the crush on, has just tried to kill his Padawan, and now his Padawan has just done something extremely heinous. And the Force only knows what the consequences will be from here on out... I don't know which is the more evil cliffhanger, Amidolee, the cliffie where Obi-Wan figured out who Sabé was, or this one. But that was still an awesome post! The flashback was wonderful, showing the friendship between the handmaidens and Padmé (before she turned into a... well, you get the idea), as well as the attraction between Obi-Wan and Sabé. Now look where they're at... Excellent job! Can't wait to see what happens next! Here's hoping the brat gets tossed out on his ear! fumes and glares at Anakin AQ -----signature----- "Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!" "If you're not with me, then you're my enemy." "Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must." "You will try." Obi-Wan and Anakin
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Miana Kenobi Title: Pacific RSA & NSWFF Mod On Limited Time Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 11/15/05 4:06pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	le gasp! I SO want to kill Anakin right now. “So, Jedi are celibate,” Eirtaé murmured, her eyes trailing across the open plain of the dance floor toward Obi-Wan Kenobi. “Pity.” LOL!! Pity indeed! Obi-Wan shoved hard against Anakin’s hold, shouting as he leapt on him, wrenching his hands away. With all his strength, Obi-Wan Kenobi did something he thought he would never do—he threw his Padawan against the opposite bulkhead. KICK HIS ASS, OBI! I hope NOW he can see why Ani needs to be killed.. Great job, babe! -----signature----- President of San Diego FanForce He tini nga whetu e ngaro I te kapua iti. Dyslexics of the world, UNTIE!
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bobilll Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/15/05 9:44pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Gah! Drama! Cliffhanger! Hmmm... I'm gonna have to pay more attention to this Alek charactor... how jealous was Obi, exactly? Did Anakin break Sabe's mental shields? It'd be quite interesting to see what he found... Sabe betrayed PAdme eh? This is developing so nicely... -----signature----- You'll have to buy him a sweater.
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Amidolee Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 11/16/05 2:13am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	cackles gleefully AngelQueen - You'll just have to wait and see for most of that. Hey, hey, I never said Obi and Sabe were crushing one another! Didn't I say at the beginning this wasn't a ship fic, or do y'all doubt my ability to NOT write one? (Ok, ok, IF they have crushes, they are totally unaware of it. Satisfied? Sheesh.) Miana Kenobi - Yes, Obi is getting his reality check in the post, but I don't think he's quite to sic'em, fido! point yet. Definitely needs to meditate on this, though. bobilll - Alek is a very minor character from a flashback, that is, shamelessly, just a way of showing how Sabe matured in the half year she was a handmaiden before TPM. He won't surface again. When Anakin accused Sabe of betraying Padme, he's merely referring to what little he overheard/understood, which is that Sabe "left" Padme. The brat doesn't know what he's talking about. Everyone: Yes, things are going to get messy! -----signature----- Mar. 1 - One Prick to Bleed: http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/20423905/p1 "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness." Dean to Sam in Roadkill.
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AngelQueen Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 11/16/05 6:45am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Amidolee posted: AngelQueen - You'll just have to wait and see for most of that. Hey, hey, I never said Obi and Sabe were crushing one another! Didn't I say at the beginning this wasn't a ship fic, or do y'all doubt my ability to NOT write one? (Ok, ok, IF they have crushes, they are totally unaware of it. Satisfied? Sheesh.) Actually, the whole 'crush' thing is more my interpretation. And Depa did say in the flashback that Sabé was smitten with him. I just happen to think it was returned, even if Obi-Wan wouldn't admit it to himself. giggles AQ -----signature----- "Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!" "If you're not with me, then you're my enemy." "Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must." "You will try." Obi-Wan and Anakin
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Amidolee Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 11/16/05 10:19am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Teehee, AngelQueen, I believe you may be right. But - ssh - I like to pretend I'm not officially shipping them here. -----signature----- Mar. 1 - One Prick to Bleed: http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/20423905/p1 "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness." Dean to Sam in Roadkill.
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AngelQueen Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 11/16/05 5:01pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Amidolee posted: Teehee, AngelQueen, I believe you may be right. But - ssh - I like to pretend I'm not officially shipping them here. laughs Oh, okay, you want this to be all hush-hush and everything. I can take a hint. glances around warily, then stuffs her Sabé/Obi banner into her bookbag AQ -----signature----- "Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!" "If you're not with me, then you're my enemy." "Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must." "You will try." Obi-Wan and Anakin
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PadawanKitara Registered: Dec '01	Date Posted: 11/21/05 12:02am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Uh... WOW...almost speechless -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
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MasterSareBabe Registered: Dec '04	Date Posted: 11/26/05 6:23pm Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Nov. 15
	Dear, dear, dear. What a treat it was to see how many posts I had still to read! This story is simply amazing--one of the best fan fics I have ever read. Please post soon! (And I loved that past of GOF when Neville says that. )
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Amidolee Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 12/8/05 9:54am Subject: RE: One Prick to Bleed - an AU beginning in AotC (Obi, Ani, Sabe, Yoda) - Dec. 8
	So, um, sorry about the near-month lull. The post wasn't being very nice, and I decided I would finish all six papers and projects before doing anymore fic. So, now I am free, with less than two weeks left in the UK, and only one exam to study for. The next post will be better, I promise! Chapter Twelve The Lorian hung in dead space, a belying cocoon wrapping around its passengers, a false protector against roiling conflict marring the stars far beyond. Rather, its grey hull was protecting the rest of the galaxy from the worm manifesting inside. Obi-Wan Kenobi was not particularly anxious to see what would spring forth once its two unconscious occupants awoke. Obi-Wan winced as he sank to the ship’s corridor floor. Usually he could simply open himself to exterior elements of the Force, but now he struggled not to defensively block it. The filtered air shivered with disturbance, quivering like glossy, dark fur over a tightly-coiled predator. Or perhaps the prey? He could feel the deep, blackening purple bruise in the cargo hold. Sabé. But was she even Sabé now? What was the extent of the damage? Damage. Obi-Wan shuddered as he peered into the open cabin door where his apprentice lay. Even after several minutes had passed, Obi-Wan still could not shake his disbelief. Stunned, he was stunned. By everything. By the revelation over Sabé, by his Padawan’s actions, by the undeniable fact the dark side was here, by throwing his own apprentice against the bulkhead, and—Obi-Wan sucked in a tight breath—by shackling Anakin to the sleep couch. What have I done? he thought, staring, uncomprehending. The action had been deliberate. He’d debated and weighed it, and although he’d done it, he could not quite justify it. If Anakin woke to find himself imprisoned by his own Master—well, Obi-Wan needed little imagination. Yet Anakin was still hemorrhaging, bleeding through the Force, unable to scab over. It felt infected. Whatever had happened in the cargo hold, it had not passed through Anakin, and Obi-Wan, no matter how much he wanted to, could not deny his Padawan had wielded the dark side with intention. Maybe Anakin had not realized it—maybe he had. Did it even matter? Of course it did—but then what exactly? Obi-Wan shook his head firmly. This was why he was going to meditate. He was still reeling, he needed to find his calm center, sort things out, and then take action. Emergency meditation. And, as much as it stung, Obi-Wan did not trust a conscious, free Anakin while he sorted out his thoughts. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, sinking into his own Force-woven cocoon of calm, knowing he would not find it immediately outside himself. Not with the Force shifting uneasily so. Soon he was calm, detached yet deep inside himself. The events in the hold floated through him, around him, like the thick, gelatinous but clear swamp water of Otah Gunga. He began easily, letting his examination of Sabé seep into and through him. He’d found it difficult to connect the distant, closed assassin with the warm, open girl from his memory. Yet it was her, or a remnant of her. A reinforced piece of Sabé, tightly clenched, a fist. Obi-Wan had begun to believe it, to believe her. She burned under her stone shell. Accusing her of bounty hunting, of taking lives for money, had insulted the duty-bound handmaiden he’d briefly known on Naboo. “You understand duty, don’t you, Jedi Kenobi?” What sort of duty meant murdering Anakin? And what did she mean by insinuating Anakin was not a Jedi? The questioning could only multiply here, and Obi-Wan moved on to yet another mystery surrounding his secretive prisoner: her training. She was not powerful in the Force, yet she felt . . . controlled. More so than he remembered; she could inwardly manipulate it. She meditated more like a Jedi; she was aware of her abilities and their limits. Who, if not Dooku, had trained her? And did that person send her after Anakin? And why did she leave the Naboo Senator’s service, and why had Dormé been so uneasy about it? Obi-Wan did not need the Force to feel the deep, searing cut buried in Sabé at the mention of Amidala, and he sensed that, somehow, it all connected. A thin tendril twined around him, and Obi-Wan obligingly focused. She accused Anakin of deceit, but what was it next? Padmé, his—what? Fury overpowered Anakin then, fury and . . . fear? Fear of what? And she mentioned Tatooine— Obi-Wan paused and refocused, unwinding the tendril, examining it unfurled and drifting quietly before him. Something had happened on Tatooine. Something to turn Anakin ballistic. His mother had died, which explained anguish, but not anger or fear. What deceit on Tatooine? What did Padmé have to do with it? The tentacle twitched, bait on a lure, and Obi-Wan snatched it. Anakin’s feelings for the Senator were obvious. Deceit, Padmé, Tatooine . . . Fury and fear. It made sense, and yet Obi-Wan sensed he had not swallowed it all, something was missing, something big. Bigger than romance, anyway. Reluctantly, Obi-Wan focused on his Padawan, acutely feeling the hemorrhage only meters away. He saw Anakin strike Sabé again. No matter the following events, one thing remained clear and sharp and conclusive: Anakin had used physical violence on another living being out of anger and with full intent to cause harm. Obi-Wan only felt a little relief Anakin had not used his mechanical arm. It would have killed her. Though death may be kinder in the end, he realized with severe trepidation. What had Anakin done? Yes, Obi-Wan felt certain, Anakin meant to break through Sabé’s shields, but subtlety was required. Anakin was not subtle. On a good day he was aggressively forthright. Yet here . . . here Anakin attacked with power beyond aggression, beyond anger. It smote of the dark side, it reaped ash. Whether Anakin recognized what he was doing, it didn’t matter, it would never matter. He had done more than lose control, he had wielded with intent, and it was irreparable. Even if Sabé withstood the onslaught, the consequences remained, were breathing and growing. The Force stirred and twisted with them. Another tentacle swam past, twining around Anakin’s actions in the hangar. What had he done to Sabé the first time? Obi-Wan came out of his meditation with grim resolve. Of all the questions swirling around him, one thing was certain: He must get to Coruscant. “You understand duty, don’t you, Jedi Kenobi?” Obi-Wan shook his head. That spectral look still haunted him. As he rose, he felt only mildly refreshed. Putting Anakin under had taken more than he liked, and the crackling afterburn of—whatever that had been—drained Obi-Wan’s energy. Still, emergency meditation helped. He felt calmer, a little clearer, but heavy foreboding dragged from his shoulders down to his feet. But he must contact the Temple. First he checked Anakin, finding his apprentice still unconscious, though he stung in the Force. Obi-Wan wavered over removing the manacles. What if Anakin awoke during the transmission to Coruscant? He would assume the very worst, and Obi-Wan knew whatever hold he still had over Anakin would be lost. Yet he could not risk the alternative . . . Frowning, Obi-Wan placed a palm over the younger Jedi’s sweaty brow, buying a little more time. Then he moved onto Sabé, cringing at her purple-black bruise in the Force and the one gracing the left side of her face. Obi-Wan had set it healing, but it still grotesquely marbled her pale skin. Again, a sharp pang gripped his chest. Had Anakin used his right arm, he would have killed her. No uncertainty of the consequences lay there. Nor was Anakin anywhere in the clear. Sabé lay twisted under the blanket Obi-Wan had taken from the sleep couch. Her tightly-knit brow beaded with icy sweat, her eyes rolled under squeezed eyelids, and small, painful gasps passed through her lips. No one needed the Force to see and feel the agony she was in. This . . . Anakin did this, Obi-Wan thought, a spark of anger mixing with revulsion and stubborn disbelief. He released the emotion, however, and reached into his calm. She cried out as he brushed her temples, froze as every muscle in her body contracted, and then slowly relaxed, becoming limp and submissive as the healing Force soaked through the bruising. When her breathing became closer to normal, though still shallower than Obi-Wan would’ve liked, he tenderly touched her cheek, aiding the superficial healing. The Jedi lingered a moment longer, then reluctantly returned to the cockpit, unable to delay the inevitable and necessary. Last time he’d contacted the Temple, it had been on Wydrillion. Just as he was wondering how long it would take to calibrate a secure Jedi connection to the Temple, Obi-Wan gained a second surprise. The ship’s computer seemed almost ready and obliging. “Perhaps the Force is with this computer,” Obi-Wan muttered as he waited for the Temple to accept his signal. The comm screen flickered to life, and Obi-Wan felt anxious relief to see Mace Windu and Yoda. “Masters.” Obi-Wan bowed his head. “The transmission code was urgent,” said Mace Windu, obliterating any pleasantries or formalities. “Yes, Masters,” said Obi-Wan, wishing for a brief moment he could stop time. “Something has happened with Anakin.” “Felt this, I did,” Yoda said quietly. The Jedi Master’s large, round eyes were dark and grey, and he seemed, to Obi-Wan, to peer far across the galaxy rather than at him. “What happened?” demanded Windu. Too much. Obi-Wan allowed a moment to collect his thoughts and words. He could not ease the facts; he must remain objective and detached, if only in words alone. Nothing less would be expected. Or acceptable. Dutiful, Obi-Wan thought, though it seemed to come from Sabé’s lips. “Anakin has done something . . . bad.” Speaking before members of the Council, Obi-Wan felt, was never one of his strong points. Quickly, he reiterated the events as best he could, watching Mace Windu’s impassive face hardened remarkably further. Yoda . . . he could not discern, which was nothing unusual or telling. “You are certain you felt Anakin use the dark side?” Windu asked, once Obi-Wan concluded. Obi-Wan could not hide a wince. “I am certain.” I’m sorry, Anakin. Windu and Yoda looked significantly at one another, but remained silent for another moment before the taller Jedi Master spoke again. “Where is he now?” “Unconscious. For how long, I do not know.” “Come to Coruscant as soon as this transmission ends,” said Windu. “This matter will be discussed with the Council before you arrive. Obi-Wan,” and here the Jedi Master looked almost sympathetic, “I am sorry. But you are right in telling us.” Obi-Wan nodded numbly. Nothing felt right. “What should I do, Masters?” “What you have been. Keep calm.” Only Jedi training and respect kept Obi-Wan from shooting Windu a dirty look. Keep calm, indeed. Sometimes he really did not like the Jedi Council . . . Obi-Wan pushed the thought away and glanced between the Jedi Masters, refocusing his uncertainty for something useful. “What of S—the assassin?” he asked carefully. Yoda’s ears pricked forward. “Wise you are to use the healing Force on her, Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan nodded. He had not expected much more of an answer. She was unconscious; little could be known until she surfaced, and even then, he had very little mind healing abilities or training. “Do you have more to say, Obi-Wan?” Windu prompted when the younger Jedi slipped into silence. A reluctant, inaudible sigh escaped him. He could not withhold the information, nor should he even want to. Yet he had the strange urge to keep Sabé’s identity secret. Maybe he simply wanted to deny it a little longer, but that was not becoming of a Jedi. “Yes, Master,” said Obi-Wan. “I’ve discovered the identity of the assassin. That is really about all,” he added quickly as Master Windu leaned forward; Yoda remained unflappable. “She is Senator Amidala’s former decoy. Sabé.” Windu almost blinked, but allowed an eyebrow to arch. “That is . . . unexpected.” Master Understatement, Obi-Wan thought ruefully. “Yes.” Yoda only looked mildly contemplative as he stared at Obi-Wan. “She’s been trained in the Force, I have no doubt,” Obi-Wan continued, “but not by Count Dooku.” “I vaguely remember this girl,” Windu said thoughtfully. “Is she strong in the Force?” Obi-Wan shook his head. No, she was not strong compared to a Jedi, not even close. But then why could he sense her so easily? “No, Master Windu, but she is well-trained.” Absently he thought about Anakin’s stubborn incomprehension that raw power itself did not measure a Jedi’s abilities, but then the horrific vision of his Padawan clamping sheer power around Sabé’s head filled Obi-Wan’s mind. Focus, focus. “Intriguing, this is,” said Yoda. “But more urgent, is this matter with your Padawan.” Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but Master Windu cut him off. “We trust you to handle things until you reach the Temple, Obi-Wan. May the Force be with you.” “And you, Masters.” The transmission flickered out, leaving Obi-Wan in terrible silence. He took a moment to rub his eyes and transform the blaring silence into a quiet hum. Outside the viewscreen, empty, black space draped around the Lorian. Somewhere, far beyond the tiny pinpricks of the nearest systems, a war was beginning to wage, and yet, to Obi-Wan, it did not exist. Once again he stood in the death arena, but something worse, more dangerous, was waiting in the dark cage on the other side. It’s your weariness getting to you, Kenobi, he silently scolded himself. Perhaps Anakin will wake up, perfectly normal, Sabé will be fine, and all of this will blow over. Of course, Obi-Wan also reasoned as he set to the navicomputer and prepped the engines idling on conserve, he was not a Jedi known for optimism. Just as the Lorian jumped into hyperspace, Obi-Wan felt a shift in the Force. Anakin was waking up. Coming up next: Amidolee ventures into the scary world of Anakin's PoV. -----signature----- Mar. 1 - One Prick to Bleed: http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/20423905/p1 "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness." Dean to Sam in Roadkill.
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