Correlian Rum (pre TPM to post TPM)

No, no, no,no,no,nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

Obi can't be a traitor!!!

You'd better explain and quickly, too!

 

Great atmosphere you've created Daphne!

It's definately a very sinister feeling, but with touches of pain and suffering for both Qui and Obi-Wan. I just want to hug Obi-Wan better. (Then again, I ALWAYS want to hug Obi-Wan.......)

I can't wait to see how OUR Ben could do anything like this!!

 

The bar was thick with smoke and scoundrals. Qui-Gon could not help draw the parallels between this place and a thousand others, yet this one, this dank place where he had first told his padawan the news - this was the place he returned to each day.

The darkness threatened to invade his very soul. Poetic that master would follow apprentice into the abyss. Spying the hunched figure cloaked in blackness, the Jedi would not help but wonder if this boys clothes were mirrored by his very soul.

Fighting the tears which threatened to overcome this last bit of resolve, the great warrior focused instead on the evidence of this man's guilt. The daily holos recieved in private from Taekan; the commands screamed from the depths of nightmares; the ghastly black uniform of the Schielen Guards; and the silence. Silence when the mission, any mission was mentioned. Silence over the loss of his saber. Silence when it came to her. Yes, he was certain it all came back to the girl.

But none of that mattered now. Daily reports flowed into the Republic of starships and troop carriers amassing in Taekan airspace and daily came indicators of his padawan's involvement.

Long had he tried to ignore the signs. Long had he tried to blame the boy's changes on his personal failures on the mission. Long had be blamed himself for his failure to support his Obi-Wan. But no more would his excuses be allowed.

Crossing the bar as if through a fog, the Jedi paused before reaching out - breaking the invisible barrier between two men, two friends, between a father and a son.

Deeply shaken, Qui-Gon allowed the words of his own master to play once again through his mind.

"Suffer the Republic will not to allow a traitor to live." Those words had passed guilt onto the shoulders of his padawan, but they had broken his heart. "In the hands of the Jedi, more merciful it will be."

The grief in his master's eyes had been too much, as had the sympathy. *I will never again take an apprentice.* Twice he had lost. This time would be too personal. It may well kill them both.

As the boy's chin lifted, he stared into the depths of a soul he had once known well. Seeing understanding and forgiveness for the act he was about to commit nearly drove his resolve to pieces, but his hand traveled ever closer to the hilt of metal at his waist.

 

*gasp* Such wonderful tension and deep angst. He now has to kill his own padawan?!

 

Eeeek!

 

Again the guards came, and again the blindfold darkened already dim vision. Struggling more for the principle than a real chance for escape, she writhed under the grips of the two strong men - hands on her shoudlers - marching her away from her cell.

The purpose of this daily exercise escaped her, but its terror did not. One day soon, she knew that the journey would end in the courtyard and her life would end. A moment of drama recieving cheers and catcalls from those who would watch.

The cold concrete made an hard impression on her knees and the stopped in a cold echoing chamber - toady like every other day. And today, like every other day, HE was here.

She could hear his steps the same in daylight as they were each night. Here, unseeing, unsure, they struck a deeper fear in her heart than all the times they had approached her cell. Deep in her brain, she could her the logical part of her mind struggling to surface, but the gloom that pervaded her psyche was caught in a web of mangled fairy tales. *They don't just come out at night father, for here He stands in the light of day...*

The noises surrounding her were soft - lulling her once again into a sense of oblivious discomfort. Frightening familiarity.

The buzz of a holo projector came again, and she tried her best to look defiant. The blood the trickled from her mouth were further evidence that whomever watched was not to see her, they were to see a prisoner.

If a voice still existed in ther throat, she would have screamed.

 

You've got me totally intrigued!!! What on earth has he done?

 

He hung back. Duty might have bid him to witness, but friendship forced him to grant privacy - all the privacy that could be achieved inside the four walls of the bar.

The Force pulled tightly at the edges of his consciousness. Tension and anguish breaking his resolve. Regretting his harsh words, and at the same time, hoping they were strong enough, the Council member allowed the conflicting emotions to wash over him. Only a shattered voice drew him from his reflection, drawing him inside the establishment.

The sight was enough to rend his soul into two seperate pieces. His oldest and dearest friend stood silently near an abandoned table. The green glow issued forth from his lightsaber illuminated the darkened alcove with a supernatural glow. All that remained there was a table, pushed back against the wall, and a bench cleaved in two. His eyes did not rest there however. They were drawn towards the puddle of black cloth lying on the floor at the feet of the master.

Striding across the bar, the witness through several credits on the bar for the damage. Reaching his friend he clapped a clammy hand on a still shoulder. Kneeling on the ground, he lifted the cloth from the floor - *his* overcoat, sliced neatly in half. Bowing his head, his understood.

//Masters, we were wrong. He was one with the force.//

Feeling the weight of his error resting upon all their shoulders, Mace guided a numbed Qui-Gon from the bar. Absently wondering how to honor the boy best for their mistake and his truth, he overlooked the string of black beads, resting on the cold floor of the bar.

A hand reached out for them, and they came, the royal seal of Taekan sparkling as the light flickered off its surface.

 

Um did you like just kill Obi-Wan?

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

I think thats all that needs to be said.

 

You can charge me with murder later. For now, I'm going to be eviler and up this without adding anything right now.

 

That's so evil I'm sure even Sith would be awed by your genius and then worried that you were going to put them out of business.

 

Umm, Daphne. You better post soon because I am right on the verge.

I may go postal from lack of posts!

 

The effort to rise was nearly beyond her. Brancing palms against cold stone, locking weak arms at their joints, pressing herself away from the ground - it was more energy than she could afford to spend, but to lie where he left her was more than her soul could endure.

Resting her back against the wall, she reached her hand towards the strand of crimson clouding her vision. Brushing it back, her mind screamed out against the darker patch of red which appeared each place her hand touched.

Unfeeling, she stared down at her hands. Hands that once held power, hands that once held dreams, hands that once held his - hands whose skin was now obscured by a film of blood.

*Mine.*

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and her body stiffened. Hearing them pass by flooded her with a relief that was fleeting. *How could they do this? How could we fail? How could my country fall?*

Waves of nausea accompanied her thoughts, and she slid limply down the wall until she could curl on her side. Laying on the ground, knees drawn to her chest, she gave in to temptation - she slept. And in dreams - sad and mournful - she screamed out his name until her voice was gone.

 

Curiouser and couriouser.

 

The figure strode through the palace. Salutes were fired off at his passing figure. Clearing the long entry way, he vanished into a side corridor, missing the arrival of General Kassen by near moments. An observer might have thought the young commandant used magic, but others within the walls knew better.

The General's staff gathered thickly around the conference table. Their desire to witness his reaction to the good news attracted them like moths to a flame.

As the sound from the holovid filled the room from it's sunken windows to its vaulted ceilings, the General smiled.

"Today on Coruscant, Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi is mourned. Behind me you will see a pyre light in his memory. Reports tell us that the Jedi's death was linked to the Taekan military buildup. The Jedi Temple is releasing no further information at this time..."

In the depths of the palace, the magic man cast his eyes heavenward in defiance or remembrance or something else entirely. Waving his wand before the eyes of the last guard, the magic man watched the man fall, deeply locked inside a prison of sleep.

Drawing back his ebony tunics, the magic man drew a shaft from his belt and there, in the darkness, he created light. The beam of sapphire tore the door from its hinges and brightened quarters where all light was gone.

Kneeling before the pitiful sight of a girl huddled on the floor, the man lifted her softly into his arms. Before rising, he drew from his pocket a long string of black beads, and fastened them about her throat with gentle words. "I am a man of honor, your highness."

Rising quickly, they vanished from the palace. Later, some would claim it was magic.

 

Whoa! Is that Obi?! This is getting a tad confusing.

 

Whew! I sure hope that was Obi in the last post. I have to admit, I'm more than a little puzzled about what's going on, but I'm hooked.

 

My apologies for any confusion. My computer is being a little difficult about cutting and pasting, so I haven't got up all I want to yet tonight. The next post should clear things up quite a bit.

 

Hopefully this post clears up any confusion and compensates for the short posts I have been making.




The dim light drifted through the open window. Moving first one arm and then the other, Maeyan was conscious first only of the light. Slowly her mind joined her body in awaking. The yellow dye on the paneled walls, the soft coverlet drawn up to her chest, the light robe wrapped around her - rising from her resting place came easily.

*I'm home.*

As her bare feet touched the soft cloth covering the floor, Maeyan rose. The fragrant aromas drifting from the kitchen drew her across the cabin's bedroom.

The warm fire in the hearth drew her, kneeling she lifted the cover on the metal pot suspended above the embers. The scent of stew filled the kitchen, and she might have pinched herself, but her heart told her it was too real to be a dream.

Rustling in the main room stopped her from considering how she had been transported from the dim cell and the General's troops to the comfort of her father's cabin.

Unsure of many things, but certain whomever had entered was friendly, Maeyan drew her robe around her tightly and stepped through the open door.

Blue met bronze as eyes locked across the room. Her hand flew to her throat to clutch the beads, newly returned to their place. In a voice barely above a whisper, she whimpered, "Obi-Wan."

He stopped dead in his tracks. The firewood by the door long forgotten. For three long weeks, he had watched over her sleeping form. The healing trance he had eased her into had obviously worked, as he had watched her grow stronger every day.

Staring at her, the Jedi finally bowed deeply. "At your service your highness."

Startled by the sound of his voice, she found her voice after a moment. "Rise Jedi and tell me why I should allow you to live."

*Well, she hasn't tried to killed me yet. Half the battle's been won.*

"You're here. You're alive. You're..."

"You are a traitor Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The tone of her voice was teasing, but her words and her eyes, were harsh.

Bowing his head in acknowledgement of her anger, the young man inclined his head towards the table. "There is my saber, take it if you choose."

Sitting on the ornately carved wooden bench, the man waited for her reaction. Maeyan glanced between the Jedi and his weapon. The memories were too fresh for her complete trust, but the red rimmed eyes following her told a different story.

Deftly tucking the saber into the deep pocket of her robe, she perched on the edge of the dark wooden bench. "Tell me."

The deep breathe sounded raspy within his chest. *How can I tell her?* Straightening and drawing on the eddies of force whirling around them, Obi-Wan calmed himself before opening his mouth.

"Qui-Gon came back from the last round of negotiations and told me that the General and the King refused to cooperate. He said I ought to take you to the shuttle - that our mission was now to take you to Coruscant and allow you to sign the treaty. Then the fire began..."

Bowing his head, Obi-Wan was overcome with feelings of failure he believed he had laid to rest. Chastizing himself he wondered how many more weeks of meditation he would endure before sleep would come without bearing the nightmares on its wings.

In a broken voice, the story continued. "The walk to your quarters took an eternity.... And I met the General. He didn't know where we had hid you and I wasn't sure if you would be ther, and we both drew our weapons and he... he laughed. Said he was a man of... of honor and we were the same. He told me that if the 'Great Jedi' could manage to get you from *his* palace, we could leave - if not... if not, he would kill you."

A soft hand brushed his cheek. The tears dripping from his eyes had gone unnoticed through his tale. Looking up, he was afraid of the eyes that would shine back at him. Eyes that would fear him, eyes that would loathe him, eyes that would burn his soul. Her eyes too filled with tears.

Her voice broke through his misery. "They killed him that night, they kille

 

What's this doing away down here? To the top with you!!!!

 

Oh, so sad . . . Please, I hope Qui-gon understands why Obi-wan did all this.

 

Ok I think I'm starting to get it. Not that I mind suspense! I love it when it all comes together. I also like having to re-read stories. Looking foward to more...

 

Qui-Gon rose from his bed. The sound of his padawan, his son, screaming through his ears. Even the force betrayed him, *It felt so real.*

Drawing a robe around him, he stalked quietly across the hallway. Opening the door, he sat softly on the empty bed. Bowing his head, Qui-Gon allowed the feelings to rush over him. He could still feel the boy's presence here. Closing his eyes, he glimpsed the dark haunted look - the eyes that had stared up at him in the darkened bar.

His words still ached, fresh in his mind.

"Obi-Wan. Go. You are no longed my padawan. You are no longer a Jedi."

The look of understanding which crossed his face, and the silent agreement they reached as his Obi-Wan had removed his overcoat and allowed it to fall across his blade. The sight of his retreating back had torn him in two.

"Oh Obi-Wan, what did you do?"

His breathing was rough as he drew himself to the present. It had almost been enough to know he was still alive - almost enough to make him think he could carry on. Then the courier had arrived. Taking the envelope from the woman's hands, he had slit it open, and recoiled as a thin blond braid fell out.

He had interrogated her only to learn that a young man was dying in a hospital near Taekan. He had begged her to deliver it.

Qui-Gon accepted the obvious. His padawan had been involved in something dark. His return to Taekan assured it. If so, then the scream of emotion jolting him from his bed, could only mean one thing.

*Rest in Peace my Obi-Wan.*