Before - Legends Justice - one-post, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan - a little mushy

Title: Justice
Author: ardavenport
Timeframe: Pre TPM, Obi-Wan is 16
Genre: Drama
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, OCs
Keywords: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, redemption, Jedi, prison
Summary: Qui-Gon takes Obi-Wan on an errand to visit a prisoner whom Qui-Gon helped bring to justice decades ago.
Notes: Typo is my middle name, with missing words and errors that spell checkers do not catch being my specialty - if you see any, just post a reply or send a PM with the what and where and I will kill them with no mercy.
Disclaimer: All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.



Obi-Wan Kenobi lifted his head. Booming, clanging sounds echoed throughout the vast space above and below as massive security doors closed behind the Jedi and their escort. He followed to the left and behind his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. The Sub-Warden led her visitors down a suspended walkway, guard droids following. The air was heavy and still and slightly metallic from the force fields at the entrances of every cell. Rows and rows in stacked levels of glowing rounded squares circled the whole inside of the cavernous building with the circumference of the levels getting smaller closer to the top and the bottom. Their walkway was suspended inside a massive ball lined with windows, each individual waiting out their isolation, thousands of them. And there were fourteen more like it in the whole facility.

The background hum of generators permeated the space around them; more noises from anonymous machinery thundered from below. Prisoners of all species stood, sat, paced and exercised within their own personal boundary. But any noise they made was held prisoner just as much as their bodies. Even in the wide open space around the walkway, Obi-Wan felt as if the distant walls were close around him. His Master had advised his seventeen year-old apprentice to be mindful, but as usual, he did not say what for.

Reaching the end of the gray grate walkway, the Sub-Warden punched in a security code by a door in a cylindrical tower rising up in the open space. Obi-Wan scanned the surrounding cells again. Every prisoner had been tried and convicted of crimes that demonstrated that they could not be trusted to live peacefully with the rest of society. Oppressively utilitarian, this building housed prisoners deemed unredeemable, either they could not be rehabilitated or their crimes were so heinous that no civilized world would forgive or take them.

The door opened and the three sentients passed by two sentry droids, the armed guard droids following; the entryway sealed shut as soon as they were inside. They went down a curved, plain dark gray hall past several doors until they finally reached one with another sentry droid outside it, blaster rifle held in a ready position. The machine acknowledged them and stepped aside.

"He is in here." The Sub-Warden told them. The door opened into a darkened chamber. They entered. It was plain with a wide bench under rows of rectangles, cabinets closed and flush to the wall. Opposite the bench was a window framed by a pale blue force field, the bright light from the next room the only illumination. Beyond was a white room, silver chairs at a single square silver table in the center. A single Humanoid male sat in one; he appeared to be older with heavily lined and sagging skin, pale purple to gray in tone. A short thick coating of silvery hair covered his head and part way down his jowls. He wore plain gray prisoner's coveralls and slippers. His dark purple eyes scanned the upper corners of the room.

Qui-Gon stopped at the center of the window and folded his arms into the wide opposite sleeves of his dark brown robe. Silently assuming a position beside and behind his Master, Obi-Wan scrutinized the man behind the transparent barrier as well. He was wary, but not fearful.

"I understand that you were among those responsible for bringing Grosmot Keerd to justice," the Sub-Warden broke the silence. Insulated from prison sounds, door slams and force field hum, the echoless room seemed even more oppressive, the tasteless air in it completely still and claustrophobic.

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "Yes, though I was merely working for a team who brought him and a number of others to justice over twenty years ago."

Obi-Wan and the Sub-Warden listened for more, but Qui-Gon Jinn added no further explanation. Over twenty years ago. More than three years before Obi-Wan was even born. He tried to imagine his Master twenty years younger, capturing an aggressive Keerd, but he could only picture Qui-Gon as he was; he would consult the Archives later when they returned to the Temple.

Letting out an audible sigh, Qui-Gon turned to him. "Observe, my Padawan."

"Yes, Master."

Pointing at a door control next to the window, Qui-Gon startled the Sub-Warden when the door into the next room slid open, the Force defeating whatever locks might have been on it. The door closed behind him after Qui-Gon passed through it.

The prisoner half rose from his seat upon seeing the Jedi Master, but he sat down again when Qui-Gon took the seat across from him. Completely calm and neutral, he just sat there facing an increasingly agitated Keerd.

"You took your time getting here."

Qui-Gon's brows rose slightly.

"Well, you’re here," the man conceded. "What have you got for me?"

"I have nothing for you," Qui-Gon answered with a trace of amusement. "I have no idea what you want of me. I was merely informed that you had sent fifty-eight messages over the past year to the Jedi Temple requesting that I come. I have not looked at any of them. But my young Padawan has never been to a facility like this, and I thought that this meeting might be instructive for him."

Keerd pushed back from the table, pulling away as if the Jedi had spat on his request. Visible anger curled his lips, revealing dingy gray, rounded teeth. But he gave his visitor nothing more than a long, furious glare.

"I commed to you for your help. Jedi are supposed to be the supporters of justice in this galaxy. I assume that includes righting injustices."

"I assume so as well," Qui-Gon replied with minimal agreement.

"There's another prisoner here. A young woman in my sector who was falsely convicted of the crimes of her family." He leaned forward again. "She was accused of stealing a treasure that her family clan has traditionally guarded and causing the deaths of her cousins in doing so. But it was her mother and brother who did it. They set her up, lured her to the treasure vault so that she would be found with the bodies -- "

Qui-Gon raised a hand, stopping the torrent of wrong that spilled out of Keerd.

"Then her remedy is to plead her case to the courts -- "

Keerd's fist slammed down on the table. "Are you Jedi so naïve to think that the courts can do anything? If they could, I would not still be confined to this . . . " His eyes darted around the room briefly, glittering with hatred " . . . hell.

"They take years to hear a case, and even then her family has had time to destroy anything that would exonerate her and bury the truth. Along with her."

"What do you believe I can do?" Qui-Gon remained motionless, unaffected by Keerd's outrange.

"You Jedi have power. And the courts believe you. If you hear her tell her story, you will know that she has been wronged and the courts will have to believe you and initiate an independent investigation against that nest of traitors in her family to set her free."

Qui-Gon's brows rose. "I believe that you overestimate the sway that the Jedi Order has with the courts."

Keerd pounded the table again, leaning forward. "They believed you well enough when it was my time!"

"I was directly involved in bringing you to justice - - "

"Justice is what I need now! What kind of justice is there in the galaxy if innocent people are put in places like this on the word of their lying family!" He half rose from his chair, leaning forward over the table, his body dully reflected on its surface. "You're supposed to uphold justice; that's what Jedi are sworn to do, isn't it?!"

Qui-Gon did not answer, did not react to the prisoner's challenge. He sat back, watching Keerd, now standing, hands on the table. The room's center was lit from all sides; there were no shadows. Obi-Wan could not read his Master's expression or sense what he intended. That was when Qui-Gon was most unpredictable. He suddenly stood.

"Come with me."

He turned, not waiting for Keerd to comply, going back to the door and waving it open. Following Keerd stepped cautiously.

"What?!" the Sub-Warden hissed. "What is he doing?" she demanded. Obi-Wan had no idea. Seconds later, Qui-Gon led Keerd into their darkened room. As soon as he saw the Sub-Warden's uniform Keerd's shoulders hunched, a prisoner's reflex submission.

"I would like to interrogate this woman -- what is her name?" He turned his head to the prisoner.

"Limra Josna."

"I would like to interrogate Limra Josna. Please have her brought to this room," he gestured toward the white room beyond the viewing window," I will wait for her there."

"Master Jedi," the warden began, "this is completely unnecessary. If she is here, this Josna prisoner was justly convicted and sentenced." Obi-Wan saw a spark of rage in Keerd's eyes, but he kept his head down, his mouth shut. "An interview will prove nothing. It's a complete waste of yours and my time." She glared at Keerd who kept his eyes averted, but the gesture did little to hide his obvious smoldering anger.

"That is possible," Qui-Gon nodded. "But there is even less is to be gained by not doing it."

Grumbling, 'If you must', she tapped her wrist com and ordered that Limra Josna be brought to the interrogation room. Qui-Gon thanked her and turned to Obi-Wan.

"Observe, my Padawan."

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon went back into the white room and pushed the chair he had sat in back to the wall. Then he pushed the table back as well.

Keerd moved toward the window. The Sub-Warden and the eye sensors on the guard droids followed him as he took a position next to Obi-Wan, not too close, but still within arm's reach.

"So, you're this 'Padawan' who's never been to a prison before." It wasn't really a question.

"Yes."

Arms folded into the sleeves of his robe, Obi-Wan faced the window, his eyes only turned toward Keerd. He could feel himself being evaluated by the prisoner for what could be gained, and a determination to give Keerd as little as possible formed inside him.

In the white room, Qui-Gon had left one chair in the center facing the table by the wall. He slid onto the silver tabletop and then sat cross-legged on it. Adjusting the hood of his robe over his head, he straightened, head back and closed his eyes.

"What's he doing?" the Sub-Warden complained on Keerd's other side at the window.

"Meditating," Obi-Wan answered automatically. He meditated with Qui-Gon every morning and for much of his training. Through half-lidded eyes he could see the aura of the Force gathering around his Master.

Folding her arms tightly over her chest, the Sub-Warden impatiently muttered about Jedi. Keerd looked to either side of him and Obi-Wan who assumed a similar posture to his Master, staring forward ahead of him.

The Sub-Warden's com sounded, loud in the dimly lit room and Keerd jumped. That seemed to amuse the Sub-Warden as she acknowledged her subordinate who had arrived at their location with the prisoner.

The door to the white room hissed open and a woman entered. She was humanoid with short thick black hair covering her head. A pattern of dark blue on pale green spotted the lower cheeks of her round face and down her neck. She wore the same gray body covering and slippers as Keerd, but stretched out in different places, over her bust, broad shoulders and hips and cinched at her narrow waist.

Her pale gray eyes wide, she stared at Qui-Gon, silent and unmoving on the other side of the room. She whirled, but the door slid shut behind her, sealing her in. Backing up, she cautiously turned around.

She kept shifting from foot to foot, as if she couldn't decide to approach or run and had to keep reminding herself that she was trapped. She pushed a stray lock of black hair back from her face.

"What do you want?" she finally demanded.

Qui-Gon said nothing. He did not move at all, but his senses were alight in the Force.

The prisoner started cautiously moving along the wall, her attention fixed on the robed figure on the other side of the room. Her eyes briefly flicked toward the window without focusing on her audience; she knew she was being watched, but she could not see them.

"Who are you? Why am I here?"

Remaining motionless, Qui-Gon did not answer. Her eyes flicked to either side as if looking for cover that was not there in the nearly empty room.

"Are you . . . " she moved away from the wall, her body motions cautiously less tense " . . . are you a Jedi? Did Grosmot Keerd manage to have you come?"

No answer.

She took a position in the center of the room and put a hand on one hip. "He's been telling me for a year now that he had some kind of connections. That he'd get one of you people to hear what happened to me with my family. Is that what you're here for?"

No answer.

Her lips puckering in annoyance, she approached the table where Qui-Gon sat.

"Are you trying some kind of Jedi mind trick on me? Trying to see into my mind?"

Obi-Wan could not sense his Master influencing her mind at all. His presence in the Force was as smooth and untroubled as the window pane. She licked her lips as she took small steps toward him.

"Is it true what Gros said? That you people have some special say with the courts? That you can get them to see where they went wrong?" Her steps and her hips slid side to side as she advanced.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes.

Gasping, she jumped back.

At first it did not appear that the Jedi even saw the room, but his dark blue eyes refocused from the far away and settled onto her. She licked her lips.

"It's true, what he says, then? That you can tell them that it's my mother and brother who should be here instead of me?" She tilted her head to the side as if trying to see past her silent interrogator.

No answer.

She positioned herself in front of Qui-Gon, just out of arms reach and stared up at him as if declaring that she would say nothing more until he spoke.'

The Sub-Warden gave Obi-Wan a cross look while the waited, as if he was responsible for wasting her time. Limra Josna looked determined to wait out Qui-Gon but the motions of her body gave away her impatience. The shifting of weight from one foot to another, the quick unconscious scratch on her arm, her furtive glances toward monitors above were nervous fidgets compared to Qui-Gon's complete stillness.

"Auuh!" She gasped and backed up when Qui-Gon suddenly moved, smoothly swinging his legs off the table and standing. She looked shocked by his height above her and she backed up again.

Determination re-formed in her expression again. "It's true what I told Gros. My mother and brother cheated me and then the rest of my cousins threw me to the law. They're the guilty ones," she hissed, planting her feet on the floor.

No answer. Qui-Gon did not give her an acknowledgement that he was even listening though his eyes remained focused on her. Obi-Wan sensed earnest intensity. She wanted him to believe her very badly.

"My mother plotted to steal the Scepter with my brother, sell it and leave our world. But Orosa and Jihara discovered the tampering in the security and they killed them when they came to the vault. I was betrayed," she pounded her chest with both fists. "I saw the faults in the security and they locked me in when I found their work. I am innocent!"

"Their betrayal makes you angry."

Qui-Gon's voice sounded loud in the closed room, but before Limra Josna could draw back, he stepped forward and waved his hand before her face.

"Tell me about your anger. Tell me everything about your anger."

Surprise gave way to triumph on her face. "They betrayed me! They cheated me! We were to split the profits between us! But after I did all the work! After I killed those brainless, pretty fools, she locked me in!" Spit flew out of her mouth with venomous passion. Her gray eyes lit up with a fury set free.

"And now SHE is the guardian. HER! With my scheming brother as her second - - "

"Nooooo-ooooo-oooo!!!"

Fzzz-zzz-zzzt!!!

Obi-Wan's hand went to his saber too late. The blue-white blade activated, cutting through floor, wall and window. Ozone and burnt plastoids stung the air as Obi-Wan fought Grosmot Keerd for control of the weapon, the deadly energy blade pointing up between them.

"NO!" The Sub-Warden jumped away from them. "Stop them!"

Obi-Wan heard the clicks and whirs of the guard droids behind him.

Blazing white wiped out Keerd's furious grimace and the darkened room around him . . . . . . .

He saw gray. Plain, unmoving gray.

"Uuunnaaaahh!" Air rushed into his lungs. It was arctic cold and hurt.

"Don't move, Obi-Wan." Something warm and soft pressed down on his forehead.

"Eeh Aaahser." His mouth was numb.

Blinking his eyes open, Obi-Wan saw red light flashing on the ceiling.

"UUUURR-UUUH! UUUURR-UUUH! UUUURR-UUUH!

An alarm blared from outside. The room door was open. There were guard droids beyond it. And someone was laughing. High and loud, the sound hysterically bounced around the room under the claxons.

"Shut! Up!"

The giggling continued, unimpaired by the Sub-Warden's command.

Breathing deep into his warming body, Obi-Wan looked up under his Master's chin. His head lay in Qui-Gon's lap. His body tingled with needles all over his skin, under his clothes and even in his hair. The Force felt far away from him, blocked by the fading stun effect. Except where his Master's hand lay on his forehead. New strength and the Force spread down into him from there and he breathed it in deeply. The needles receded, becoming soft and blunt.

Something crashed. Turning his head, he saw the Sub-Warden scowling at the floor and two other humanoid guards cringing.

"Oh, Seelim, get a container for these and take them to the med-center," the Sub-Warden shouted at her subordinates.

"I am sorry, Sir." A shiny black medical droid raised its torso and spindly appendages up to address the Sub-Warden. "But with plasma cuts this severe, these limbs cannot be effectively re-attached. Cybernetics would be far more suitable for replacements."

"Yes, yes, yes! But we need to get them out of here! And these!" The sub warden kicked a heavy metalloid torso away from the pieces of at least two guard droids on the floor. Obi-Wan saw Limra Josna's gray-coveralled body under the medical droid, her face turned away. But what he was seeing did not make sense until he realized that it was Limra Josna's legs that could not be re-attached. Singed blood and flesh mixed with the burnt plastoid haze in the air. The medical droid rapid beeped to a lifter that extended grasping arms to lift the woman's torso onto its pallet.

"Shut up!"

Between two un-dismembered guard droids, back to the wall and with his arms confined behind him, Grosmot Keerd continued laughing. Tears leaked down his cheeks. He looked as if he had not laughed in years and was trying to catch up.

"And turn off that noise! Send a report to the head warden. Right now!" The Sub-Warden's subordinates hurried from the room and the alarm at least obeyed her and fell silent a moment later though the red light continued flashing. She kicked more droid wreckage away and marched over to glare down at the two Jedi.

"Was that necessary, Jedi?"

"Of course it was necessary!" Keerd shouted from the other side of the room. "That lying she-deech got what she deserved! Do you hear that, Josna?! Ha-ha-ha!" The older prisoner looked a little insane, but maniacally happy. Josna Limra did not move or react. Presumably the droid had sedated her when it applied the pressure coverings over her stumps.

"Take him out of here! Lock him up in his cell!" The droids clamped onto his arms and started to drag him out.

"I was right about you, Jedi! You brought me justice after all! Ha-ha-ha-ha!" Keerd called out from the hallway. The medical droid and the lifter left with the injured woman.

The Sub-Warden turned away from the laughter fading down the hallway in disgust. Still obeying his Master's command to stay where he was, Obi-Wan looked up at her. Warmed by the Force flowing from his head through his whole body, he felt mostly recovered from the blaster stun effect. The droids in this prison used a fairly high stun setting, even stronger than what was used in Jedi training. But he should have been ready for it.

"Was that really necessary?" the Sub-Warden demanded again. "The droids stunned Keerd and him." Her ire flicked in Obi-Wan's direction and he wondered if she remembered his name. "If you'd let them stun you and her, this wouldn't have happened. Do you know how much time the report for this incident will take?"

"I do not," Qui-Gon answered. "If you need a statement from me, I and my apprentice will make ourselves available." He lifted his hand from Obi-Wan's brow and glanced down. Responding with a minimal, wordless nod, Obi-Wan lifted his head and then jumped to his feet. The tingling was gone, washed away to a memory by the Force.

"You'll give your statement to the Head Warden, Jedi," she snarled.

Qui-Gon placed his hand on Obi-Wan's back as they followed her around the grisly aftermath and litter of droid parts out of the room. Two new guard droids fell into step behind them.

"Master, was it necessary to . . . ?" There was not a polite way to ask why Josna Limra had been cut down as she had been, but his Master understood his question. He spoke quietly as they walked together.

"After you were stunned, she came in after me. You were between Keerd and the droids and took most of the stun. He immediately started screaming at her for lying to him and she dove for your fallen weapon. I stopped her. And that stopped him from attacking her."

Obi-Wan nodded. The Force guided a Jedi's blade in either defense or attack.

"And the droids?"

Qui-Gon's brows rose in mock innocence. "They kept shooting at me. In spite of what the Sub-Warden thinks, I saw no reason to be stunned." His rested his arm on Obi-Wan's shoulder, briefly squeezing his apprentice's shoulder. "No need for both of to us to end up on the floor."

In spite of his embarrassment about so badly being caught off-guard and nearly losing control of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan grinned at his Master's light tone.

"I will do better, Master," he promised.

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement and reached inside the folds of his dark brown robe.

"Yes, you will. But first, I think, you will need this."

Looking down, he saw Qui-Gon discretely take out his Padawan's lightsaber. His embarrassment doubled, Obi-Wan hastily accepted it and it disappeared under his own robe as he re-attached it to his belt. He had not realized that he no longer had it with him. Qui-Gon's hand squeezed his shoulder again and Obi-Wan heard a soft chuckle.

Their group emerged from the tower back onto the walkway. Even with all the open space around them, he felt too closely surrounded by the caged prisoners. Obi-Wan wondered to which cell among the thousands that Grosmot Keerd had been taken to.

"Master," he asked, his voice just above a whisper, "Keerd said he got justice. Did he?"

Qui-Gon exhaled and stared ahead at the Sub-Warden's back. They walked close together in silence before he answered.

"I believe, Obi-Wan, that he has as much justice as anyone may have in this place."



### ### END ### ###

 

Fantastic characterizations and riveting action. Love Qui-Gon's poise and calm - it sure got a "confession" from Limra, - a gloating one too.

 

So, this slightly reminds me of an epic poem from my country's medieval anonymous bards. And it freaked me out. The way you explore conflicting concepts is pretty painful each time and I guess I shouldn't have been bulk-reading these. I'm going to have some really, really atypical nightmares. *

Keerd's set-up was bizarre, too! What an odd, odd being, he is. Talking about everybody being impressionable when there's a true chessmaster on the other side...

* This is not criticism per sé, I'm just too sensitive sometimes.