Betrayal - Chapter 29The Truth can set you free... or not
Atel had always hated going to the Healer's ward. From her earliest memories, the place had held nothing but the sharp bitter taste of copper pain. The Force, despite the concerted efforts of the Healers there, seemed tainted, its clear currents choked with the smoky black-red remnants of loss and fractured bodies, filled with the swirling despair of tormented souls and agony. Even the smell of bacta would send her skittering away from the touch of healing hands, so great was her revulsion of the place.
She knew it was not right that she should feel this. After all, hate is of the Dark, but it had become almost instinctual - a remembered response. She had been there many times before, from the day she broke her arm and felt the agony of white bone piercing her skin when she was but a few years old to the infection last year that had had her Master frantic with worry.
But Atel could not leave Obi-Wan alone in such a place - even if he didn't want her near him.
She was waiting now for him to get out of surgery. She knew that his injuries were not life-threatening but they would need time to heal; the physical therapy alone would keep him at the Temple for days, perhaps weeks. They would also need to monitor the bone replacement and nerve regeneration. Luckily, Master Tharten's saber had not pierced any vital organs nor had she touched his sword-arm but it had made a ruin of his other shoulder. It would be a while before he would be fit for duty - whatever duty that might be.
In a way, Master Jinn was better off. The vibroshiv had cut through skin and muscle, nicking one rather important blood vessel but her quick efforts had saved his life. The Healers had only to restore the seared flesh with grafts and bacta; thankfully, there was no bone damage. He would be well long before Obi-Wan. Even the physical therapy would be short.
But all of this did not help to lessen her anxieties; she was sore from being thrown aside - twice - and the bruises had already begun to purple. She was stiff and the headache behind her eyes threatened to grow worse. But more importantly, she was worried about Obi-Wan and his state of mind.
He had said nothing else after telling her that he was leaving the Jedi - just sat there in pain, his face as white as bone dust, his eyes dull-grey with shock. He hadn't even made light of his injuries when the Healers returned. She knew then that something may have broken in him. For as long as she had known him, Obi-Wan had always downplayed the hurt he suffered in his duty to the Jedi.
Now he didn't seem to care. And that was far worse than any saber wound.
She was helpless; she could do nothing for him, other than to be there when he regained consciousness. She knew, too, that as soon as he saw her face, he would turn away from her. Their partnership had ended; their ten years of laughter and warmth and sharing their hopes, their dreams, their lives were over.
Pressing one hand to her eyes, Atel pushed back at the unshed tears. She had cried enough for a lifetime in the past few hours and she refused to allow the grief to overwhelm her again. When everything else was done, then she would deal with her own loss. For now, she would be strong for Obi-Wan's sake.
The rustle of cloth had her turning around in an instant. She was expecting one of the staff, perhaps Healer Leabe or Neil'don, to talk to her about Obi-Wan's progress. They saved Master Jinn's life down in that filthy cell and would likely be treating her Master's shoulder wound as well.
Instead, surprisingly, she was alone in the waiting room with Councilor NeTa Phen, head of Human Resources and Hospital services. The Jedi Master had not been on the Council long and rarely spoke in the sometimes acrimonious discussions with Master Obi-Wan but Atel knew she was a protege of Councilor Xacor and often followed his lead. The Chalactan woman had seemed kind enough the few times Atel had met with her. But it was odd that she would be at the Healers now when Council was still in session - unless she was carrying out some business of the Jedi Order.
It became quickly obvious, however, that Councilor Phen was not there to mediate complaints with the Healer staff. She had another matter to discuss. "Padawan Sl'etah, Knight Kenobi came through surgery with few problems. He is in the recovery area at the moment and still rather groggy but once he is released to his room, he should be fully awake. You should wait for him there."
"Room?" Atel blinked surprise. Jedi, unless they were seriously ill or contagious, were put into wards, not private rooms. It was easier on the limited Healing staff and more efficient. The choice of sending him to a single room was odd and not a little troubling. "Why not the ward? You just said that he would be fine. Is something wrong?"
Master Phen held up her hand, motioning for silence. "No, the Council thought it best that we isolate him and former Master Jinn at this time."
"Master, please... is Obi-Wan under arrest? Because of Master Tharten? He was only defending himself." Atel was almost babbling with anxiety.
She knew that the Council would not take Tharten's death lightly. After all, her Master and Sera Tharten had often been at odds over the years and if they decided that it was premeditated, that he had planned to kill her when he had the chance, it was possible that they might charge Obi-Wan with murder. But the Council would never do such a thing without evidence - or so she hoped.
"Calm yourself, Padawan." The Councilor was frowning, her face shuttered and remote.
From the way Master Phen was staring at her, it looked as if the Chalactan Master found her outburst to be disturbing or distasteful or, perhaps even pitiable. But Atel no longer cared about what they thought of her actions; they were irrelevant at the moment. She wanted to know what they were planning to do with Obi-Wan.
As Atel stepped forward, anxious to find out why the Council had decided to isolate him, Master Phen cut her off, saying bluntly, "No, he is not under arrest but he is being kept incommunicado for the moment. Knight Kenobi and former Master Jinn will be allowed to leave once certain matters are cleared up."
"Certain matters?" She tried to appear noncommittal, hoping to glean more information but Master Phen saw past her casual question.
"I'm not at liberty to say. However, there will be guards posted at the door to restrict entry." The Councilor looked away for a moment, and then stared at Atel with steadfast determination in her eyes. Her voice, too, would brook no dissent - it was as hard as durasteel. "You, of course, will be allowed to attend Kenobi but you will say nothing at present about Master Tharten's death. To anyone."
"What? Why?" For a moment, Atel was startled by such a request. After all, Master Tharten's death would have grave consequences for the Jedi Order and there would need to be an inquiry.
Justice among the Jedi was swiftly done. Punishment was often public and sometimes brutal but it had been effective in quelling dissent among the Knights. But there had also been rumors of trials held in secret - nothing concrete but enough gossip to make Atel wary of this demand for isolation.
It did not seem possible but Master Phen's voice hardened further. "That is Council business and restricted. You will tell no one about her death - not the Healers, not the guards, no one. Until a Council member tells you otherwise." She stepped forward, all threat and implacable determination. "Are we clear on this?"
Her anxiety skyrocketing, Atel refused to back down. This was too important. "But the Healers know and Obi-Wan and Master Jinn. They all know."
The Councilor waved off her protest, walking slowing toward Atel and stopping less that a handspan away. She said distinctly, "Only two Healers and they have both agreed with the Council's decision. You may speak of it privately with Jinn and Kenobi but only them. No one else."
As she stood beneath Master Phen's stony gaze, Atel considered the implications. It was sounding worse and worse, covering up a death of this magnitude and all the witnesses either injured or intimidated into silence. What could the Council want that would call for such a ploy? And how could she find out what was going on without endangering Obi-Wan still further?
When Atel did not reply, Phen's eyes narrowed, the distinctive marks on her face sharp against her dark skin. She looked as unyielding as neutronium and utterly without mercy. "I must insist, Padawan Sl'etah. If I do not have your word, I will be forced to keep you isolated and locked in your quarters or one of the Temple cells. I don't think you want that, do you?"
"No, I don't want that." Atel was trapped. If she did not agree, she would be unable to find out what was going on, unable to help Obi-Wan - and she was not going to give up so easily. She would just have to find another way and, for that, she would have to remain free. "Very well, you have my word, Master."
"A wise decision, Padawan." For a moment, Atel thought she saw a glint of relief in Master Phen's eyes but, when she looked again, there was only grim resolve. The Chalactan Councilor said, "I have arranged for Kenobi and Jinn to share a room. I believe they have much to discuss and it may help Kenobi to... regain his balance."
As she spoke, Master Phen looked away toward the closed door, frowning distractedly - as if she had completed one minor yet distasteful task and was trying to move quickly onto something of more importance. Turning back, she gazed down at Atel, studying her and then the woman nodded abruptly. "A knight from the Hunter's Group will escort you there. You will be watched for the next few days but it is merely a precaution. As long as you remain silent, you have nothing to fear."
The Councilor's face sharpened, etched in stark lines of frown and worry. Her eyes dark with foreboding, she muttered softly, "These are trying times after all."
Atel could not help but agree. "Yes, trying times."
********************************
Atel was still mulling over the implications of Master Phen's commands when a large, rather intimidating Knight arrived to escort her to Obi-Wan's room. The man said little other than to insist on silence as per the orders of the Jedi Council. She glowered at him but nodded, following him as he turned and marched out of the waiting room and into the hallway.
She had to admit that the Knight certainly knew how to keep other people from talking to her or asking uncomfortable questions of the pair. The few Jedi that they encountered gave him a wide berth and would not meet her eyes at all.
Atel would have found it disturbing but she hardly noticed. She had her own problems.
As they walked toward the private rooms at the back of the Healer's wing, she was trying to think about what to do. She needed desperately to find her center again before facing her Master and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable confrontation. Atel wanted to do the right thing and help Obi-Wan regain his balance but everything that she had done in the disaster of the last few days had only made things worse between them.
With that depressing thought, they arrived at an unmarked durasteel door and she was told to wait inside for Obi-Wan. As expected, the sharp glare she sent back to the man was ignored. So, with all dignity, she stalked past him into the room and sat down carefully in one of the worn seats near the entrance.
At least, the Knight remained outside but it was small comfort.
Master Jinn was already there and asleep on one of the medical beds. The afternoon light, streaming in from the large transparasteel window on the far wall, was dazzling - rich and golden, but it only made the Bendu seem smaller somehow and very pale. Fluid bags were still attached to his arm. He had lost quite a bit of blood and it would take some hours to replenish.
She did not want to disturb his rest, hoping for a few quiet moments to settle into some semblance of serenity, but Master Jinn must have heard her or felt her presence. Giving a shallow sigh, he turned his face toward her, opening his eyes slowly as if reluctant to awaken.
His voice was thready and very weak but he seemed to gather enough strength to ask, "Where is Obi-Wan?"
Concerned, Atel was quick to reassure him, "He's just out of surgery and will be here fairly soon."
Master Jinn jerked in surprise, his arm pulling at the tubes of the fluid bag as he twisted around to stare at her. The movement must have hurt because he grunted sharply and frowned down toward his chest, his face whitening further. But a moment later, his voice tight with pain and anxiety, he said, "How... how bad is he?"
She sent him a tentative smile, trying to calm him down. "Master Jinn, it is all right. He took a saber strike in his left shoulder and it caused some damage. The Healers said that he would be fine with time and care."
As she spoke, she walked over to him and, putting one hand on his shoulder, pushed him back down into the pillows, trying to gentle his worry with a soft touch. She checked the tubing to make sure nothing had come undone and then stood there, looking down at a very bewildered and distraught old man.
"Padawan, tell me what happened." Qui-Gon might be wounded and weak with exhaustion from his fight with Master Tharten but he was not to be denied.
She let go a long sigh, trying to shove aside the anger and confusion that had punished her in the last few hours. Her Master had said such terrible things and assumed even worse - murder and betrayal at her hands. And, while it made no sense, Atel couldn't fault him for it. Something had happened to him while she was unconscious, something terrible.
She only knew that when she had regained her senses in that awful place, she had felt Obi-Wan's pain and utter despair. The Force itself seemed shadowed with remnants of the Dark - the dread-filled pressure of wrongness, the almost electric taste of revenge, the profane mixture of shame and satisfaction. The loss of hope.
She had never thought to encounter it within the Temple and certainly not with her Master.
Perhaps Qui-Gon Jinn would be the one to make it right. Obi-Wan loved the old Bendu and would likely listen to him, more than he would her, much as it pained her to admit. She only knew that she would do whatever it took to bring him back. Somehow.
"Master..." Atel paused, trying to think of how to explain it when she didn't understand it herself. "Obi-Wan killed Master Tharten but not before she somehow managed to get past his defenses. She burned his shoulder through to his back but missed the vital organs. It could have been much worse."
Nodding with relief, he closed his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to gather strength and then rasped, "Was he able to find out anything?"
As she stared out the window into the Coruscanti skyline, the spires of the Jedi Temple aglow in the lovely afternoon light, in her mind's eye she saw nothing except pain and loss. Regret laced her voice as she said softly, "I don't know. I wasn't.... conscious at the time." Forcing herself to put aside all thoughts of what was and could never be again, she gazed down at Qui-Gon's worried face. "Master Jinn, I hope you will forgive me for hurting you. I couldn't think of any other way to stop the bleeding."
The Bendu nodded his gratitude. "Padawan.... Atel, you saved my life. I am in your debt."
"Thank you, Master Jinn, for understanding." After Obi-Wan's harsh judgment in the cell, she had not known what to expect from the Bendu but those few gentle words brought some small relief to her battered spirit.
Atel looked away for a moment, frowning thoughtfully, and then faced Qui-Gon squarely. Summoning her courage, swallowing hard, she drew in a deep breath and let it out again, knowing that she needed to explain what happened to her Master if Qui-Gon was ever going to be able to help him.
"I think you should know that Obi-Wan ...." she paused, trying to get past the memories of death and betrayal, "is damaged. More than his shoulder."
When Qui-Gon tried to interrupt, she shook her head, hurrying to explain, "No, not physically but he.... something happened, something to do with Master Tharten's death. The Force was tainted with it and when I woke, he started accusing me of deceit, kept raving about me spying for the Council and him mind-raping Master Tharten, torturing her. He wasn't making any sense. But whatever it was, it marked him somehow. He was...he seemed to be going dark. Or mad."
Remembered dread caught in her throat. Surprisingly, pain, too, was present - more than just the aching bruises from her fights with Obi-Wan. Atel looked down to see her hands curling into fists, the muscles under her skin pulling so tight that she thought the bones might shatter. With a great deal of effort, she opened her fingers and splayed them wide, resting her palms on the edge of the bed.
Qui-Gon was looking at her if she were going insane.
But before he could ask her for further explanation, the door opened and in floated a hoverlift with a very pale Obi-Wan on it. Beside him, datapad in hand, Healer Leabe, was talking quietly with him.
Her Master looked terrible, exhausted and angry. A deep frown scored his face; one white-knuckled hand was clenched, the blanket covering him twisted into a tight knot of cloth beneath his fingertips. He was whispering furiously, too low for her to hear, but the Healer just shook his head as Obi-Wan continued to argue with him.
Even from her position near Master Jinn, Atel could see that Obi-Wan was seething. She wasn't sure if it was because the Healer would not agree to whatever her Master wanted or because of deeper issues. The horrors of the morning were still fresh in her mind and she could only assume that it was worse for her Master.
With so much that had already happened, she had to admit that she would have been surprised had he not been upset. But for his own sake, he would need to find his calm center soon. Recovery took more than surgery and bacta; it took a strong will and a determination to heal - and a spirit at peace.
But Obi-Wan was not at peace.
Apparently, the Healer agreed. As they approached, Atel could hear the soft reprimand as the man reminded Obi-Wan that anger only hindered recovery and that if he wanted to leave sooner than later, he would need to let go of the darker emotions and find solace in the Force. Eyes narrowing, Obi-Wan glowered at him and then, seeing Atel standing there watching him, deliberately turned away, ignoring them all.
Pain blossomed in her chest as Obi-Wan's rejection became obvious. For a moment, it hurt to breathe. But she fought through the grief, accepting it, and with a fierce determination to do what was best for her Master, walked toward the Healer to find out what to do next. "Healer Leabe, will he be all right?"
As Leabe maneuvered the hoverlift over to the bed across from Qui-Gon's own, the Healer said, "The surgery went well. There were no complications and, based on his past record, he will be clamoring to leave before the day is out."
Obi-Wan shot him a look of pure disgust, as if offended by the mild reproof. But he said nothing and turned his gaze upward, staring at the ceiling as he had done in the cell a few hours ago - shutting them out.
Leabe ignored the slight. "Knight Kenobi has a strong constitution and I expect a full recovery." He checked on the fluid line and then tapped Obi-Wan on the arm, signaling him to move onto the medical bed. With some reluctance and not a little stiffly, Obi-Wan lifted up slightly and shifted over.
The movement pulled his tunic open a bit and Atel could see the large bandages covering one side of Obi-Wan's injured shoulder. She knew that they were soaked in bacta; the treatment could work wonders but it would take some time. But he must have noticed her looking at him. With rough-edged resentment, he yanked the tunic back over his chest, his darkened eyes flicking towards her own and then away again, his face set in lines of sharp rebuke.
Suddenly she felt like an intruder, not someone who had shared a life with him but an unwanted stranger.
As Obi-Wan settled back down, his head tipped upward and he was frowning at the ceiling again - still silent. Still angry, she realized. He wasn't just ignoring her, he was shutting out everyone in the room. He hadn't looked at Master Jinn once.
Leabe wasn't going to let one irate patient keep him from his own duty. "Knight Kenobi, I will be back later to give you your pain medication options and the schedule for therapy but at the moment, the Healer's ward is rather full so if you will excuse me..."
It was clear that Leabe was waiting for some signal from him but when Obi-Wan remained silent, Atel nodded, "We will be able to care for him, Healer Leabe. I've done it many times. I'll com you if anything changes."
"Thank you, Padawan Sl'etah. I will return to check on both my patients later." And with a quick nod, the Healer left.
As the door started to close behind him, Atel caught a glimpse of the Knight who had escorted her to the room. He was still guarding the entrance but had stopped the Healer and was talking to him rather insistently. She couldn't hear what they were saying but Leabe looked upset. But before she could find out more, the door clicked shut.
The three of them were alone at last.
The tension was as solid as durasteel. In the Healer's ward, the Force itself was often clotted with the despair of broken bodies and fractured souls; no matter how much Light poured into clearing through the contamination, there were always tendrils of dark pain that remained behind, waiting for the next victim.
It was no different now. Flowing in knots of smoky grief and red bitterness, the great energy field seemed to be warping around her Master, its detritus-filled currents swirling with outrage, fear and dread. And, far down, past the black-crimson fury, past all the other dark emotions that were normally so alien to her Master, Atel could almost feel the shame. And that was the most disturbing of them all.
Master Jinn must have sensed the darkness as well. A brief worried glance toward Atel and then, turning his head to one side so that he could see Obi-Wan more clearly, with a voice both urgent and very concerned, Qui-Gon rasped out, "Obi-Wan, are you all right? Your Padawan has been telling me about your injuries." When he did not answer, when he kept looking at the ceiling and ignoring him, the Bendu said cautiously, "Obi-Wan?"
Her Master might as well have been carved from stone. Only the eyes staring upward and the movement of the blanket as he slowly twisted it in his hands showed that he was awake - and listening.
Atel refused to allow it any longer; Qui-Gon did not deserve his anger or this treatment. With quick strides, she marched over to Obi-Wan's bed, and, hands on hips, scowled down at him. She was ready for an argument; a wound must be drained before it can begin to heal and, if it took him to be angry with her to do it, then that's what would be.
"What do you think you are doing?" she said tartly. He drew in one startled breath, gazing at her for a moment in shock, and then turned away. She reached over and, with a fierce tug, pulled the fabric out of his grip. Her voice sharpened and her words were distinct and scathing. "Look at me."
But when the stubborn man continued to ignore her, she grabbed his face and turned it toward her. "I'm not going to stop until you tell me what are you doing."
He jerked back, wrenching out of her grasp and sent her a glare that would have killed lesser beings. "Protecting you." His black eyes flicked toward Qui-Gon's for a moment and then back to hers. "Protecting you both."
Blinking at the grim determination in his voice and dismayed that he would think he could protect anyone right now, she said, "What?"
"There is a guard standing outside the door, Atel." Drawn and pale, his face was cut into lines of pain and desperation. From where she stood, she could see that he was still trying to find his balance and losing; it was obvious in the clench of his jaw and the way his fingers were curling and uncurling against the sheets. The air crackled with emotion.
Bleakly, he reminded her, "I've just killed the Head of the Council. Don't be so naive as to think I will be allowed to leave the Jedi without some kind of punishment. Imprisonment is the best I can hope for although execution remains likely." She stared at him in horror but he just ignored her alarm, shrugging slightly. "Did you really think they would let me go, no matter how much I might wish it?"
"You were just defending yourself and Master Jinn. Surely, they would know and understand this."
He gave a sharp dry laugh but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Atel, you little fool, that isn't how it works. Not any more. But you have done nothing wrong. And Sle'fey promised that Qui-Gon would go free." He grabbed onto her hand and murmured, low and fast, "They have holocams everywhere. I don't want to implicate you, either of you, in Tharten's murder. The less I say, the better."
She put her own hand over his, and smiled sadly down at him. "Obi-Wan, he's not here for you but to make sure no one enters or leaves this room without the consent of the Council."
The idea seemed to undo him, driving him again toward desperation. "So we are all prisoners then."
Before she could say anything else, he roughly pulled out of her grip, his hands fisting into taut sinew and bone. He shot a fierce glare at the transparasteel portal, the Council spire framed in the rich light of late afternoon. "How their promises fade away with the slightest excuse. They said Qui-Gon would be free to leave. Tharten's death must have cost them more than they expected and we are the casualties."
Atel sent a pleading look toward Qui-Gon. Her Master seemed to be plunging back into dark emotions, and she knew he would not be happy with the truth about the guard outside. But he needed to know. Hesitantly, she said, "I have been told by Councilor Phen to keep silent about Master Tharten. She threatened to have me confined to quarters or a cell if I discussed her death with anyone other than Master Jinn and you."
"Still playing games, all of them," he spat out. "What a fool I was to ever believe their lies."
Laying back down, Obi-Wan grunted softly as he jostled his injured shoulder, then closed his eyes against the warm light, hiding again from them both. Atel could see the effort it cost him not to rail against the Order; his hands were clawing against each other, his face sharply edged in frown and pain. But instead of letting go and trying to find peace, he sank inward, hoarding his anguish and his fury. She didn't know what to say that could ease his mind. She had never seen him look so distraught.
From out of the corner of her eye, Atel had seen that Qui-Gon had been listening to them both, appalled astonishment in his gaze. She had warned him, after all, but it took the reality of Obi-Wan's reactions for it to become apparent just how much her Master had been hurt.
"There is little we can do for the moment, Obi-Wan, but rest and heal." She could see that Qui-Gon was trying to calm him down, trying to ease her Master's pain and alleviate his feelings of betrayal and despair. With soft words, the Bendu rumbled, "Focus on the now and the rest will take care of itself."
Obi-Wan shot him a glare of pure disbelief. "Yes, we have seen how well that works." Reaching up, he scraped across his face with one hand, pressing his fingertips into the deep frown lines as though to ease some pain there. Sounding defeated, he murmured, "At least you survived the attack."
Breathing relief as Obi-Wan's anger seemed to cool, Qui-Gon gestured toward Atel. "Your apprentice was able to stop the bleeding in time. I owe her my life."
"Yes, she can be inventive in a fight." It would have been a compliment except for the sound of contempt in his voice and the way he refused to look at her. The memory of his accusations were still a vibroshiv, cutting away at her spirit.
"Inventive, indeed." Qui-Gon's gaze was steady on hers and he nodded once in thanks.
Standing a little straighter, she sent the Bendu a hesitant smile back. But Obi-Wan merely grunted at the assessment, a poor agreement at best.
Qui-Gon let the rudeness pass. Wincing a little as he twisted around to look at Obi-Wan more clearly, he said, "But what of your own wound? How bad is it?"
"It is nothing." The caustic, clipped way he said the words, the flattened mouth and rigid frown - all spoke of a reluctance to answer Qui-Gon's question.
It was typical for her Master to downplay his injuries, at least in the past. He had become somewhat of a trial for the Healers - he would often argue with them to be allowed back to their quarters much sooner than the Healers would wish. It was a nod to his tenacity and negotiation skills that he often won.
But this was more than just modesty, she realized. He was trying to deny what had happened: to himself, to her, to his old Master. She could feel it in the Force, the shame flaring and then the anger.
Qui-Gon must have felt it as well. But he had known Obi-Wan much longer than she and knew how to get around his stubborn former padawan. He said mildly, "Atel said that it was a saber thrust that..."
"It is nothing. I'm fine." The cold warning in Obi-Wan's voice chilled the air.
The Bendu was nothing if not stubborn, perhaps even more so than her Master. Atel stood there watching the two of them argue - one demanding an answer and the other refusing, two immovable objects colliding. It would have almost been amusing if it were not so serious.
Qui-Gon tried again. "She was giving her account of the fight but I would like to hear... "
"I'm sure she told you everything you need to know." Obi-Wan sent Atel a glare that could have melted durasteel but she only looked back at him with mild eyes. She did not want to antagonize him any more than was necessary but he had to get past this. His blasted ideas of protection and honor would not help him here. He needed to let go. She would be patient enough to see it through - she had to be.
But it was Qui-Gon whose patience had run dry. "Obi-Wan, stop being so evasive. This is beneath you."
"Beneath...." Turning abruptly toward them both, Obi-Wan let out a sharp hiss of pain, his face paling into bone white. But he ignored it. With grim determination, he pushed himself up and leaned on his good elbow to face Qui-Gon better. Eyes narrowed, his mouth flat and bitter, he said curtly, "I'm sure you want to know how I got skewered like a mott-toad. How my pitiful defenses were no better than some stupid crecheling's. How I should have been paying attention to the moment." Breathing out his disgust, he sounded almost ashamed, "How I made a mockery of your teachings."
"Obi-Wan, I don't believe that." Qui-Gon shook his head, reassurance in his voice.
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan looked away, out into the afternoon light and murmured, "Believe what you will but the fact remains that I got hurt by allowing my emotions to interfere with my concentration." Another rough pained grunt and he fell slowly back into the pillows. "Not exactly a shining example of an exemplary Knight but sufficient to act as bait for the trap."
"Bait? What do you mean?" Qui-Gon demanded. He and Atel exchanged worried glances. It sounded as if Obi-Wan was sinking back into despair again - his voice was stained with it.
A caustic, sour chuckle and then her Master said bitterly, "Bait as in using someone to draw another out. Waving said bait in front of the head of the Jedi Council so that she wouldn't see what Sle'fey and his lackeys were doing behind her back."
"Obi-Wan, what are you talking about?" Master Jinn's voice was a complex mixture of frustration and concern and fraying patience. He looked, too, as if he wanted to get out of bed and throttle her Master or hold him close as only a father could do, anything to get him out of this strange mixture of misery and anger.
But Obi-Wan ignored the question, plowing on with whatever remembrances were keeping him captive. "If nothing else, you have been cleared of all charges. Sle'fey said that he will even let you use a lightsaber again." Another bitter chuckle and he sent a thunderous frown toward the Council spire. His hands, too, were balled again into fists and the cords on his neck stood out - white sinew against pale skin. Furious, too, in the way he ground out his memories, slipping back and forth between sarcasm and grief. "How kind of him. A fitting reward for almost killing you, don't you think? Oh course, that assumes that he lets you leave. He is likely to be lying. After all, we do have a guard keeping us safe and secure. Mustn't have anyone escaping without his permission."
Obi-Wan wasn't the only one grieving. Master Jinn looked as if he's seen the child of his heart fall into madness and didn't know what to do next. But apparently, he had long experience with wayward apprentices.
Qui-Gon's face smoothed out into Jedi calm, some hard decision weighing into his skin. Drawing in a deep breath and then slowly letting it out again, distinctly and with the absolute command of a former Master of the Jedi Order, he said, "Obi-Wan, I want you to stop acting like a petulant child and tell me what happened."
Blinking in surprise, Obi-Wan looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. He lay there, breathing harshly, his dull-gray eyes shrunken and lost, gazing at his old Master. Then all at once, he collapsed inward, the one good shoulder sagging back and his face ashen. He lifted a hand and scrubbed across his mouth for a moment, choking back something - a word, a grimace, Atel wasn't sure and then he nodded slowly in defeat.
His voice was lifeless. "There were several holocams in the cell. With direct feed to the Council chamber. I had a perfect spot, right in front of the Council, helpless to do anything while you got knifed by that rsshak slime." Swallowing hard, he said softly, "They were using you, Qui-Gon. As bait to draw Tharten out. Just as I was used and it worked very well."
When Obi-Wan said nothing else, Atel and Qui-Gon exchanged worried glances but Master Jinn would not allow the story to end there. They both knew that Obi-Wan had to get it out, all of it. Gently, the Bendu said, "There must be more to this."
Obi-Wan nodded, shrugging helplessly, his eyes dull-grey with remembered dread. "I tried to get to you in time to prevent it but they wouldn't let me go." A hoarse whisper that spoke of disbelief and despair - he was caught in that moment. "They wouldn't let me go. I begged them to. But I couldn't get past the guards and they wouldn't allow me to leave until they had what they wanted."
Qui-Gon looked as if he were going to be ill. Ashen from more than just blood-loss, he seemed distraught that he had been a catalyst in this. Atel, too, was horrified but she knew what her Master would say next. After all, she had not believed him at the time and it had only made everything worse in the end. She should have known he was telling the truth - she should have known.
"And then my helpful apprentice tried to stop me in the turbolift. I ended up using the stairs to reach you. Almost too late."
The Bendu sent her a fierce frown, but she turned away, looking down at Obi-Wan. More than anything, she wanted to gather him close and chase away the nightmares - like he had done when she was little and afraid. She wanted to let him know how much she wished to turn back time, how much she regretted every moment since this damnable mission began. Her hand, hovering above his own, was aching to touch, to soothe his troubled spirit, to help him in this but she could not do it. There was too much between them and, in the end, she stood there forlorn and alone, hands clenched at her side, and said, "I thought.... Master, I am so sorry. I had no idea."
It was as if she had not spoken at all. Obi-Wan was staring out the window, watching the afternoon turn into soft twilight. "I wonder if they enjoy it, playing with the lives of others. I had always thought that being a Jedi Knight was what I was meant to be but now..." A dry, harsh bark of a laugh, all revulsion in the loss of a lifetime of devotion. "Foolish dreams. The reality is that I'm just a pawn in their filthy game and have been for years."
"Obi-Wan?" Softly said, Qui-Gon seemed to be trying to send him comfort, as she could not.
Obi-Wan grimaced, glancing toward his old Master and back into the cloudless darkening skies of Coruscant. "They used me as bait to draw out Tharten. Seems she was in league with a Sith Lord and Sle'fey wanted to know who it was. And they didn't care who they hurt to find it out."
They both could hear the heartbreak in his voice and the way he was staring out into the growing black. Qui-Gon murmured gently, "Tharten taunted me with it. Did you find out who it was?"
"At least the hag is dead and by my hand." A final stab of fury, swirling in obsidian-reds and smoke, sprayed across the Force and then it melted into grey shame and despair.
His eyes blinking back grief, in a voice so low that it seemed more vibration than mere words, Obi-Wan rasped out, "I raped her mind. Tharten's mind. While she was dying, I shoved myself into hers and she fought me all the way. Her screaming from the pain and yet I kept going." His hand scrapped hard across his face, the fingertips coming away wet, and he frowned down at them, puzzled. "I kept going..."
Atel looked back to see Qui-Gon's shocked face. His blue eyes were glazed with uncertainty and a kind of horror. "Padawan?"
Quite ordinarily, as if he were talking about someone else far from the Temple and a stranger, Obi-Wan said slowly, "No, not your Padawan. He would never have done such a thing. Padawan Kenobi was unsullied, clean." He was still looking at his hands with revulsion and a bewildered disbelief.
By now, Qui-Gon had regained his equilibrium and, with all the sure strength of a lifetime of training - Jedi or otherwise, he said sternly, "You must stop this. You are not thinking clearly."
Obi-Wan agreed, shrugging his good shoulder. He sounded normal but, within the Force, he was surrounded by shadow, despair and anger and a kind of self-loathing that went planet-core deep. "No, I'm not, not thinking clearly at all. I tortured her and I knew it and yet I would do it again."
Atel could hear the alarm in Master Jinn's voice. "Padawan, you are hurt and still confused from last night. Give yourself some time to regain your balance."
"Balance? I doubt if I will ever find balance again." Pushing himself upright, his face white with anguish and fatigue, he faced them both squarely. Looking from one to the other, catching their gazes with his own, his eyes faded into a dull green but he seemed calmer, more in focus.
As Obi-Wan spoke again, his voice shook a bit and then cleared into surety. "But at least I found out the truth of it all. No matter what games the Council may have played, what they planned or expected over the years, they can do nothing now. They have lost." His jaw clenched for a moment as he looked away, back up toward the now lighted spire of the Jedi Council. "The Sith have risen again and they have control of the Republic, over the Jedi, over everyone."
As Qui-Gon and Atel waited with dread in their hearts, Obi-Wan said, with grief borne from the death of a life-long dream, "And Chancellor Palpatine is at the heart of it. Palpatine is the Sith Lord."
To Chapter 30 |