Betrayal - Chapter 18

Suspicion

Shocked, Qui-Gon Jinn stared at the Padawan. A few heartbeats later, the astonished stillness gave way to anger and guilt and grief. The unjust accusation began to sink into his spirit, washing his skin in greys and bone, sharpening the taut lines in his face and the stark tremble in his hands. Gathering himself, his arms tightly wound about his chest, he looked away, far out into the eternal night. Hooded eyes, deepened into indigo and black, stared sightless for a moment. He let out the breath that he had not realized he held and then, blinking away the disbelief, he turned back toward his old apprentice.

But Obi-Wan was not looking at the Bendu. He was still staring at Atel, his distress plainly seen in his harsh frown and ashen face. Finally, the Knight shook his head sharply, trying to erase her last words.  The Padawan's revelations seemed almost farcical, the lies she had been taught so inventive, that Obi-Wan was rendered speechless.  

At last, gathering his wits as he tried to cut through the morass of confusion and dismay, Obi-Wan's voice rang out, calm and cuttingly iced. "Who told you that?"

Her eyes, wide with trepidation, flicked quickly toward the rogue and returned to meet the hardened scowl  of her unhappy Master. Quietly she murmured, "My instructor, Master Tse'et'a. She had us read all about it. The information was in the course work database and the ancillary notes as well, Master."

Atel had barely finished when Obi-Wan moved quickly to her side and stood there, towering over her.  His eyes bore into hers as he thundered back, "Did you think to question me about it?"

Cringing slightly, helplessly aware that her Master was somehow furious with her revelations, that the discord between them was swelling with all the force of a detonating proto-star, she hesitated, "I..."

Leaning forward then, glaring at his apprentice, his deepening frown told the tale of banked anger and frost. The very air seemed to cool. "After all, I knew both Padawan du Crion and Master Jinn quite well. I might have some insight into that filth you were studying."

"Master, please..."  Her pleading voice held only stark dismay.

The Knight drew back, his arms drawn in tightly about his chest, an impenetrable barricade against this newest discovery. His grey-green eyes were as hard as durasteel. "But you never came to me with any questions, never mentioned this at all." He looked down at his Padawan Learner. She sat there silently, no explanations about why she had hidden this for so long, nothing to alleviate the growing sense of profound loss. It hurt to think that she could not come to him with her concerns. That ache bled into his words. "I thought we could trust one another. We should have been able to talk about anything. Was I mistaken?"

"No, Master!"

His mouth tightened as he pressed the point. "Why then am I learning about this only now? And what else have you been hiding from me?"

Her hands reached out for him, gripping his arm in a silent plea for understanding. "It wasn't like that." The violet eyes swam with remorse as she tried to explain. "I wanted... I wanted to save you pain. I knew that you hated..." She stopped abruptly as she realized that the rogue was staring at her; his leonine face was a grim facade. Atel realized that Jinn had listened to her every word - almost as if he were judging her. She could not, would not speak her heart with him there.

Her frantic thoughts traveled through the muddied currents of the Force. /*Please, Master, not here. Not now. Not with him listening.*/

But Obi-Wan shook his head, stepping back out of her reach. His hand sweeping toward the Bendu, he snapped, "Yes, Atel, here and now." As she shook her head in disbelief, he said, "This affects Master Jinn as well." He straightened then, staring at her with determined eyes. "Now, my Padawan Learner, I want to hear why you couldn't trust me with your concerns."

"It wasn't like that at all. I did trust you. I do trust you."

"Apparently not if I am finding out about this now. I want the truth, Padawan." He said nothing else, just stood there in stony silence, waiting for her reply.

She drew one ragged breath. Her eyes darting from Obi-Wan to the rogue Jinn and back, her hands twisting in dismay, she realized that he would accept nothing less. She did not want to hurt him but he had left her no choice.

Gathering her resolve, she spoke urgently, "I'm sorry, Master, but, at the time, I thought that you hated Master Jinn." When his face tightened once again in denial, she forced herself to continue. It needed to be said. "What else was I to think? You never talked about him. Ever!"

She stopped, glancing quickly at the Bendu, saw him staring at Obi-Wan in bleak dismay. She hurried on, determined now to finish. "Until this mission, I had no idea that you felt anything toward him, anything at all - except for anger and contempt. How could I when you never spoke his name? I thought it was because you were ashamed to be his apprentice. That he hurt you."

Jinn's eyes grew darker as he stared unblinking at his old apprentice. Qui-Gon's face was etched in grief, the painful words dropping like stones onto flesh. But he could not look away. He needed to know her truth as much as Obi-Wan.

She stopped for a moment, gathering her resolve. Watching her Master standing there, unspeaking, his face sharp with censure, she knew that her words were cutting as deeply as a vibroshiv. Perhaps, it was best to cut it all out and start afresh. "I knew he must have hurt you somehow. When I learned about du Crion, it all made sense - the pain in your eyes at times, the way you avoided certain subjects. I thought that's what you wanted, to forget it all and be better than him."

"Atel, they've been lying to you. Qui-Gon would never do such a thing. I told you no." His icy voice was flat and unbending.

She was just as adamant. "You must be mistaken. The Jedi do not lie. You know that." She reached out for him once more, grabbing onto his tunic sleeve, her fist tangling in the frayed cloth. "Master, you need to see clearly in this. I know now that you missed him and he seems sincere. For the moment." Her eyes hardened, purple growing into black as she stared into Obi-Wan's furious scowl. "But maybe he's just learned to hide things better since du Crion.  Perhaps he was more subtle in his manipulations."

She glanced at Jinn and watched him stand there, looking at his old Padawan with unblinking eyes. Impassive except for the small movement of jaw that spoke of shadowed emotion, anger or possibly grief, he said not a word.

Unconsciously she pulled at the shredding cloth, twisting Obi-Wan's sleeve toward her as she scrambled for some way to make him see the truth of her words. "He could have... he could have lied to you about it all. You couldn't have been old enough to remember the scandal clearly. He may have used mind control on you as well, especially if he started when you were young. Look how long it took for him to accept you as apprentice. And you said you were desperate to be a Knight. Perhaps you'd believe anything he'd say.... especially when you were so vulnerable."

"Atel..." Obi-Wan's voice grew space-cold with indignation. He took a deep breath to try and ward off the anger now stirring in his blood but her words only continued to infuriate him.

For a heartbeat, her dark eyes skated over the impassive Bendu. Turning back to her Master, she reminded him, "He was adept then at manipulation and mind control. The records show it clearly. He would have gotten better with practice and time. He could be manipulating you even now."

"That is absurd." He tried to pull away but her cramped hands, stark with whitened bone and sinew, held him fast.

The Padawan's voice was harsh, the sound strident in condemnation. "Is it? I've watched how you've changed in the last few days. We never argued before, not like this. Not until we came here." An abrupt nod toward Jinn and she argued, "You think he's so wonderful with his happy stories about your past. But he was thrown out for a reason. He turned rogue. You just refuse to see it."

"Atel, I was there. You're wrong."

Her throat began to close in sorrow. The depth of his stubborn belief in his old Master was breaking her heart. This man, this wonderful man who had guided her through storm and sun could not be more wrong. "Am I? Why didn't he come back for you then? He never tried to contact you or see or find out how you were. A master, a good one, would do that. Instead he took off and never looked back. How can you defend him like that?"

"Padawan, that's enough." The caustic, coarse sounds of angry denial were clear.

She blinked rapidly, watching Obi-Wan's incensed face as she muttered, "In a way, I'm glad we're here. Now you'll find out just how much he's deceived you and then you can go back to the Jedi where you belong."

"Enough!" As he pulled away from her grasp, the sound of his command was sharp in the sullen air.

The silence that followed found the pair staring dumbfounded at each other. Obi-Wan was furious with his Learner, his mouth half-open with astonishment, deeply troubled that she had believed the vile things she said. But Atel was relieved. She had laid bare the concerns of her heart. Now, perhaps, they could get on with their lives, growing together in the Force, continuing to be the best team in the Jedi Order - without Jinn.

Qui-Gon spoke gently, "Obi-Wan, perhaps...."

But the Jedi just shook his head. "No, Master, please don't interfere. It would seem that my Padawan Learner and I have more to discuss than I had realized."

Obi-Wan knew that he must right this somehow. Drawing his shoulders back, head held high, he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, then another, centering himself. He knew that he had let his apprentice direct the confrontation, allowing the emotions of the moment to fracture the serenity that he would need in the coming days. He must regain his mind's quiet for all their sakes.

The anger eased as he drew in yet another breath. Looking once more at his troubled Learner, he spoke softly, "Atel, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You must hear my words with an open mind and heart. Can you do that?"

She opened her mouth to protest but, thinking of the past few minutes, decided that wisdom would be better served with a simple "Yes, Master."

"Padawan, each day, each moment is made of choices. Where to go, what to say, when to seek the guidance of the Force and when to ignore the guidance of those around you. Our choices will define who and what we are." Looking at Qui-Gon for a flash of acknowledgment, he turned back toward Atel. "Apparently, my choices in the past few years have confused you. Perhaps my teaching skills leave much to be desired." As she started to protect, he held up one hand. "Please, let me finish."

As she nodded her compliance, he glanced at Qui-Gon. "It is true that I never spoke of my Master. The memory of what the Jedi Order did to him shamed me."

Obi-Wan turned inward then, remembering the aching bewilderment when Qui-Gon was forced to leave the Temple - the lonely days, the nights filled with silence and cold emptiness. False whispers of wrong-doing and the ricocheting rumors of others tossed aside in the first great purge of the Order deepened his sorrow. Only his meditations, delving into the infinite comforting wellspring of the Force, gave him solace. He still could not comprehend how they could toss aside such a great man for mere money.

Shaking himself free of the bitter memories, he murmured, "Their punishment of my efforts to find him only drove the shame and anger deeper. So deep in fact that it prevented me from dealing with it."

The Knight looked down at his young apprentice. In her huge eyes and set mouth, some unknowing emotion, heartache or regret, seemed to shimmer in the depths. He tried to see past it, to understand her heart; he needed to make her see the truth of his past, of their past together. Sending her an almost-smile, he reached into his memories once more. "When you were assigned to me, I was glad. I knew that I could put all of my Master's teachings to good use. But by then, things had started to change with the Jedi and not for the better." He shrugged some of the old pain away - the deepest ache would never leave. "I tried to shield you as best I could, keeping my own hurt away so that you could learn free of the taint and betrayal that I felt. I learned to cope, to find joy in doing the work of a Jedi Knight... when I was permitted to do so."

His face sobered, "Apparently, I was mistaken. I should never have allowed the truth to hide behind my own pain."

The apprentice shook her head, compassion warring with pensive regret of the past. "Master, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you felt this way. Hiding from me as you did, how was I to know your heart?" A brief moment of thought and she said, not ungently. "But, Master Obi-Wan, how does that explain about the things I've learned in the Temple? Surely, my teachers were telling the truth about him."

"I've known him for many years. And I trust him with my life." He frowned again, his voice hardening. "You have accused him of mind manipulation. And you seem to think that I am so vulnerable that he could abuse me with my unspoken consent. Do you really think that I am weak-minded enough that I would allow this?"

Her eyes grew wide as she realized what implications her accusations had wrought. "No, Master, of course not. But... if he started on you when you were young, you would never realize it until it was too late."

He shifted back slightly, frowning at her insinuation. "Atel, I've known Qui-Gon for many years. It is just not possible." The anger was still there, just roiling beneath the surface. He needed to get past it, somehow. "But you've been around Master Jinn for several days. Have you detected any taint of Darkness about him?"

"I'm... I'm not sure. He seems sincere and he did help us with Skywalker. For your sake, I did try to ignore my doubts, truly I did." For a brief instant, her eyes flicked to the silent rogue. Then deliberately turning away, she countered with the obvious conclusion. "But he's a criminal. He has freely admitted it and we have solid evidence with us. One that you must admit is proof of wrong-doing. As for the mind manipulation, there were four cases of men, murdered. And they accused him of mind control before they died. Master Jinn is a powerful Force-user, one of the best the Order ever saw. How can I not believe what my teachers at the Temple have said?"

He closed his eyes, suddenly weary of it all. "Are you questioning my judgment?"

"No, Master! But he's still here. He could be manipulating you even..." She hesitated, trying hard not to make things worse with her accusations.

"Enough, Atel, enough. If you cannot... if you feel that you cannot trust my judgment in this, I don't know what else to do. How can I guide you on your journey toward Knighthood if you do not trust me?"

She protested with an "I do trust you, Master! It's him I don't believe." But there had been too much argument, more than enough. He stared at her, his stern look of determination boring down on the young Learner. Time for closure, time for an end to this discord. "Then, belief or not, you must obey my commands. It is your duty as my Padawan Learner."

Atel heard the durasteel in his voice and she knew he would not listen further no matter how clear her reasoning. The protest died on her lips. Acquiescing, she replied with a quiet "Yes, Master."

He gestured toward the still-silent Bendu. "You have given your word to help Master Jinn with his case." Folding his arms, resolute admonition in his grey eyes, he reminded her, "I expect you to do no less than your best in this matter." Her nod was all that he needed. "Good, then I suggest we begin again."

Chastised, she suddenly felt the need to get away, to deliberate about what she had learned and what she must now do. "I... I request that I be allowed a brief time for meditation. I have much to think on." Looking toward the door, she said, "I noticed that this ship has a small arboretum. I would like to have a few moments alone... with your permission."

Obi-Wan nodded. He realized that they both needed space after the hurtful revelations of this past hour. "Take all the time you need, Padawan. We will continue here until your return."

Getting up, she bowed slightly, "Thank you, Master. I won't be long."

The silence that fell once the door hissed shut was short-lived. Qui-Gon stared out into the vastness of Hyperspace for a brief moment, his arms tightly held about his torso, his face a blank facade as he contemplated the tendrils of residual indignation still lingering about the cabin. A heartbeat later, his face cut by a rough frown, he looked to his old Padawan. The low rumble of his voice, once so soothing, was grating in its disapproval.

"That was ill-done, Obi-Wan. She was only trying to protect you."

An unhappy nod and a long-held breath eased out. "I know."

But Qui-Gon could not let this alone. His apprentice needed to face his own demons and anger was not acceptable to a Jedi, be they apprentice or Master. "Why did her words make you so upset? Was it because of the lies she believes or because of her own truth that you find so hard to accept?"

Obi-Wan sighed again. Looking away, into the past, his eyes misted into sorrow. He had tried so hard to do what he thought was right but the mistakes of long-ago had turned on him. He should have sought the Force's guidance more; perhaps, the guidance of others might have helped but there had been so few that he could trust when the first wave of castoffs had left the Temple. Now, he realized that he had lost something elusive and he wasn't sure how to recapture it. "She's right, you know. About not saying anything.  I should have been more open about all of this... years ago. I've failed her."

"You did what you thought was right."

The Jedi just shook his head in denial. "I'm not so sure. I should have been more mindful. But all I did was shield her from the reality of the Order and allow the lies to grow. I've done her a great disservice."

Qui-Gon pointed out, "It's not too late."

The Jedi looked past his old Master to the ethereal light beyond. "Perhaps. But the Council wants her to be knighted soon."

"She's not ready." The obvious conclusion in a day of truths and half-truths.

Obi-Wan brushed his face with his hand, trying to will away the sudden pain there scrabbling just behind his eyes. He knew that Atel needed further training - this mission was key in pointing out the flaws of both Master and Apprentice. Her yawning need to learn compassion and justice loomed large and there was no time. "No, she is not. But when did that ever stop them?" He shrugged again as the reality of the Jedi Order became clear. "Training costs money."

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, for many things."

Obi-Wan accepted the sorrow and made it his own. "Thank you. It does help that you understand just what is going on at the Temple. Perhaps, you should have run after all."

"Padawan...." The gentle reproof was all that needed to be said.

His jibe at Qui-Gon's stubbornness was born more of frustration than any real attempt at changing his mind. And they could not turn back now. The game was set and they must play their part. "No matter. At least we know about something more of what has been happening at the Temple."

He frowned again, the headache intensifying with each moment. "I never realized that the Jedi would say such lies about people they'd forced out. It just doesn't make sense." Trying to will away the pain, he murmured,  "Qui-Gon, the lies she's been taught - it feels almost like revenge. A Jedi does not seek revenge."

Qui-Gon just nodded. "No, not a Jedi in the path of Light."  

"Then who could it be?" The question seemed to linger in the sullen air.

"I do not know."

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The false sound of bird-call echoed in the moist greenery of the arboretum. Atel recognized the trill of an Alderaan firebird, its lively notes pure and clear, its heart pouring out in song. But underneath all the joyous noise was the lie. It was merely a recording - a deception to make one think that what they had heard was reality when it was only the distorted reflection of lifeless truth.

Atel tried to shrug away the tension in her shoulders. Leaning back, breathing in the humidity and fresh tang of life, the deep richness of soil, the scent of blossom, she should have allowed her mind to empty so that the  Force could fill it with serenity.  That is what a Padawan was expected to do - let the Force flow through her and give her clarity and peace. But instead she sat there, surrounded by beauty and life and song, letting the circling questions drive her mad.

*Is that what was going on here? Is it truth or deception? And just who is the prey in this web of lies?* The Padawan shook her head. Confused and concerned, she realized that no matter where she turned, there was only fabrication and deceit.

She knew that Master Obi-Wan believed in the Bendu rogue - believed everything he said without question. But was he being foolish or wise in that belief? He had known him for years, had a long and apparently warm relationship for the most part. Could it be possible that he knew his old Master well enough for that much trust?

And yet Atel trusted her Master with everything that she was. He had helped her over the years and been there to guard her back, soothe her fears, made her face the anxieties of a Jedi's life. He was completely trustworthy.... she hoped. But... and but and but. He hadn't told her about Jinn. He didn't mention anything of what had gone on before. What that a kind of lie? Or was it just a way for him to protect a precious memory - that by not sharing, he was preserving the last remnants of his old life and the love of a son for a surrogate father? 

More importantly, how was she to know?

There were certainly inconsistencies in the history she had been taught. She could feel that Master Obi-Wan had not really been mind-tricked as she had suggested. There would have been signs of contradiction in his behavior - unless the mind had been so warped that he had ingrained it into his psyche.

No, she could not believe that. He was too strong.

As for Master Jinn, she had not really felt any true deception. Oh, he had secrets - how could he not under the circumstances? But he had been fairly straightforward and, in the battle between that idiot Skywalker and her Master, he had been pivotal in bringing the apprentice down. That was one fact she could rely on - unless, of course, it was all some elaborate ruse.

Wheels within wheels within wheels - all grinding away at the serenity that continued to slip through her fingers.

Atel's thoughts came to the inevitable conclusion. *Enough of this! Enough! I must believe in Master Obi-Wan as he has always believed in me.* She would obey and trust her Master. There was no other option.

Drawing in a deep breath, the Padawan Learner centered herself. With that decision had come a calm serenity that indicated she was on the right path. Now she sunk into the well-spring of meditation and embraced the Force in all its infinity beauty and light.

At first, the currents of the Force surrounded her, dipping, flowing, caressing her inner being with a depth that was impossible to describe in mere words. She could feel the gleam and almost tangible flow of the greenery surrounding her in all its vibrant life - almost as if she were tasting the sweet nectar of existence. It began to slow, curling around her with a gentle touch, and then to pool at her feet in a great liquid lake of crystal blue, cool and refreshing and truly peaceful. 

In her mind's eye, she leaned forward then, dipping her fingers in the clear water, and watched as the small ripples of transparency began to flow away toward the boundless, endless possibilities of past, present and future.  Brilliant color and starlight reflected in the waves that grew higher as they sped ever outward. And as she lifted her ephemeral hand, droplets of luminous energy clung to her skin for a brief moment, before falling backward into the abyss.

So lovely as she watched the droplet hit the lake...

Abruptly, with all the raging power of a frenzied tempest, the scene changed. The swift shadow of roiling ink splashed over everything, descending into the pool and outward again, obliterating all light, all sound for a moment of intense void. A black hole of nothingness. Peering into the ebony darkness, Atel began to discern clashing sound and long smears of light and color. The angry buzz of lightsabers,  a flowing noise of hard rain or static, tearing, the harsh melting discord of electronics frying into oblivion. Angry voices, too, raised in fury and despair.

A male voice, low and rumbling, harsh with remorse. "It is not your fault. It is mine." A lightning flare of crimson light revealed Jinn's shuttered face.

Hopeless grief spilled into the inky dark as Obi-Wan rasped, "I should have listened."  Brief tremblings of indigo stripped across Obi-Wan's darkened eyes before they were covered again in shadow.

Atel had never heard such anguish from her Master.

More shouts, indecipherable and then her own words clear and angry " I won't let you hurt him".  Crying then and furious, the clouds billowing in black and more black, stealing all light, except for the one brilliant flash of blue, spinning end over end into the depths. "Master, come back."

Horrified, the sick whispered bottomless sorrow of Obi-Wan's "What have you done?" echoed into the ether. No glimmer of light, no light at all.

Harsh on the heels of that hopeless sound was one that froze Atel's heart. In the ebony shadows, an unknown voice of satiated pleasure rang out, "Death, the sentence is death."

More roaring and furious denial as her Master's voice begged, "No, it can't be."

Jinn's hoarse desperate pleas of "No, Obi-Wan. Stop!"

A blinding flash of corpse-light as Master Obi-Wan spat out, "Liar! You have betrayed me!"

With a groan of aching despair, Atel awoke. She couldn't breathe, could... not... breathe for the harsh sobbing whimpers even now collecting in her chest.  Drawing in, gasping for air, she pushed herself back up. While caught in the dark vision, she had fallen forward, hands fisted and pushing against the durasteel floor, her face wet with tears.  Cramping muscles spasmed as she tried to regain her balance and thrust herself up; her hands opened to show half-moons of blood in the fleshy palms.

However, the pain of abused skin and aching limbs was nothing to the anguish she felt.  That meditation, that vision spoke of betrayal and death. Oh, Force, what did it mean? And what was she supposed to do now?

To Chapter 19