CALIGINOUS
Summary: AU Qui-Gon does not die on Naboo. Jealousy has taken hold of Obi-Wan who is later killed, evil has stirred in the heart of the Republic, and any who oppose Chancellor Palpatine are mysteriously murdered. A new Dark Lord of the Sith has come into being.
Rated PG-13 for dark themes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am making no profit from this.
Night had fallen on Coruscant.
It brought relief to the troubled young man who prowled silently across the rooftops of the senatorial buildings, craftily avoiding the many security cameras and sensors. Size did not matter in the dark. Worth, whether senator or Jedi or peasant, was rendered to one uniform state by the mere loss of light. The ideas of beauty and ugliness were eliminated when the judged face and body could not be seen. In the dark, he knew he was not better than the greatest heroes of the Republic, nor was he any better than the most murderous criminal.
Darth Caliginous located the balcony he sought. He slid down along the emergency escape ladder and padded softly onto the balcony in spite of the leather boots he wore. The sliding glass door had been left open, meaning to let in the cool summer air. He proceeded in unhindered.
Knowing through the Force which way to go, he stalked to senator Challiner's bed, where he lay sprawled asleep with his wife beside him.
Caliginous ignited his red lightsaber. Before either politician could wake enough to react, he beheaded them both.
As the spirits of the two beings left their lifeless bodies, he sensed the presence of their daughter in her room.
He stalked toward her room, careful to press his boots down hard into the soft carpet so a definite imprint was made. After all, if this luring trap were going to work, he would have to leave evidence behind.
He did not collide with the unseen furniture or the child's toys strewn across the floor, for although there was no light, he was not completely blind without the Force. He was strong with the mystical power, stronger than most, for once he had embraced and learned the secrets of the Light Side, and now he embraced and knew the secrets of the Dark Side.
He entered his prey's room and his lightsaber cast a ghostly scarlet glow on the white walls and bed sheets. She was awake, staring at him, her eyes wide in fear.
He had once been like that. Innocent, pure, untouched by the darkness that now inhabited his heart. For a moment, he felt the characteristic sympathy that old self had once had.
But then like black ice forming in the cold recesses of his mind, the words of his Master came to him.
Show no mercy.
Caliginous raised his lightsaber and struck.
Fifteen seconds later he was climbing up the ladder to the roof top, melting into the deepest shadows, seeking the comfort of being nothing in the dark. The old self had been stirred when he saw the child, and it was so near the surface when he killed her. Now, his throat tightened and his eyes watered as the old self battled with him now to come free.
How did you become a child killer? the tiny voice of the old self asked him.
Caliginous stopped. No, he could not think like that. His Master would be disappointed in him. He would be punished. He was not to think like that. He had not thought like that in years, not since the old self was smothered by the new self. He cleared his mind and after several seconds of blissful ignorance, he told himself he found pleasure in killing, no matter who the victim.
His mind believed him.
But the deepest section of his heart, the part that had not be touched by age and experience, did not.
After all, he had not been like this five years ago. He had been different then. He did not even really exist. The old self had existed and had had a Master. A man the new self wanted to badly to strike down in a blaze of blood and satisfying slaughter. That had been the time when he was proud to be a Jedi Knight.
"Master!" Obi-Wan Kenobi yelled, spotting through the spaceshield of his fighter that the fighter Qui-Gon Jinn had been sprinting towards was destroyed by enemy aircraft, which were coming in faster now that the loyalist refugees were on the run in their evacuation transports.
Although he'd already taken off, Obi-Wan dove back down toward the landing platform, dodging heavy blaster fire as he went. He landed near his Master and threw himself out as a bolt struck the fighter, causing a wave of explosive heat to strike him from behind. He ran at full tilt at the decorative outcroppings that supported the hangar where his Master had taken shelter.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said over the roar of the explosions. "You shouldn't have come back."
"I'm not leaving you!" he answered.
"You have no transport," Qui-Gon said. "The fighters hold only one person; coming back was illogical!"
Obi-Wan fixed him with his sharp blue eyes and said, "I'm not a Knight yet, Master."
Obi-Wan was twenty-four, days shy of being twenty-five, and soon he would reach the 'defined' adulthood of being a Jedi Knight.
"Besides, we can slip into an enemy fighter to escape," he continued. "They wouldn't shoot their own people."
"Yes, but the refugees might shoot us."
"Those are class one ships, Master," Obi-Wan said. "They have no weapons. You know that."
The dogfighting ships had been clearing away, taking their clash into space, and silence was descending on the hangar. Just as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exited their hiding spot, a party of anti-loyalist troops began their sweep of the hangar. The Jedi were spotted before they could hide and the troops opened fire upon their targets.
Obi-Wan's blue lightsaber was ignited before him in a flash of light and buzzing sound. The Force hummed calmingly through him, allowing him the cool head he needed to advance upon and defeat the troops with swift deference to the physical agony his enemy was suffering. Obi-Wan had been taught that there was to be no shame in the death of a warrior and when he had to take a life, he was to make it clean, fast, and with honor. To strike down an opponent in an immoral way was as degrading to the body as to the killer.
"They'll send in more," Qui-Gon said, surveying the fallen party. "Let's move."
Quickly, stealthily, they left the hangar through the being-friendly doors and snuck through the adjacent military base that had recently been overrun by anti-loyalist militias. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon crept toward the neat rows of fighters that they could take to use against the anti-loyalists.
Just as he thought he was in the clear, a spark of danger caught Obi-Wan's sharp attention. Taking in everything in a second, he saw the second party of troops exiting the hangar. They had found their comrades dead and were looking for the Jedi scum that had killed them. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were in plain sight of them. One was fast enough as to have his rocket propelled grenade launcher leveled toward them.
Without thinking, Obi-Wan snatched Qui-Gon and threw him to the ground against the crates they hid by and shielded him with his body. The grenade hit the wall near them and he felt himself be pelted with hot and painful chunks of rock and concrete.
Before the dust could even start to settle, Obi-Wan had jumped up and offered a hand to Qui-Gon. "Let's lose ourselves in the confusion."
They did, and escaped to the hangers. The fighters the anti-loyalists had were two-person flown; one piloted, the other managed the guns. Qui-Gon took the pilot seat and Obi-Wan took the gunner's seat in the adjacent cockpit. In moments, they had taken off.
Obi-Wan got busy familiarizing himself to the weapon's controls. He located the blasters, the ion cannon, the four proton torpedoes, and the missiles. He began to prepare for a series of quick attacks he knew would come. Aim for the engines, far from the fuel cells, disable the ship, and try not to kill. He fired up the ion cannon and prepared the blasters for a secondary assault.
Then, they entered the battle that raged like wild fever in the cold of space.
Obi-Wan's thought processes smeared together into one flowing command from the Force. He acted without thought of reward or consequence, completely obeying the will of the bodiless being that dominated his life. It was as he had been taught, and his lessons were his very meaning of existence.
After it was over and the refugee ships limped away, one anti-loyalist fighter remained. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon landed their fighter in the boarding section of the loyalist ship that had sustained the least amount of damage, the Prince Star.
"You didn't have to do that," Qui-Gon said as he climbed out of his side of the ship. "Do you doubt my prudence?"
"No, Master," Obi-Wan said from the other side after his feet landed with a soft click on the floor. "It's better safe than sorry, though."
"Be that as it may- Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised.
"What?"
"You're bleeding," Qui-Gon said, rushing toward him.
"I am?" Obi-Wan asked, confused from disbelief. Strange, he did not feel any pain. Only the sound and thrum and rush of the fight lingered with him. Yet as Qui-Gon touched the side of his neck Obi-Wan began to feel the numbing adrenaline slip out of him, leaving him jittery, less aware of his surroundings, and dizzy. Very, very dizzy.
He touched the back of his head, which was starting to hurt rather badly now. He felt the blood seeping out from a sliver of cut on his head and trickling down his back, soaking up in his clothing. He studied his reddened fingers and rubbed the bits of concrete between his forefinger and thumb, remembering dreamily how he had used his body to protect his Master's. He couldn't help moaning as nausea clawed at his gut.
"I think," he said, unaware of dropping to his knees. "I should sit down."
It was so painfully obvious it shamed Obi-Wan. He had seen it. He had seen it all. Qui-Gon treasured the boy above him. He was the ideal Padawan Qui-Gon secretly craved. He was the prodigy, the light of the Force, the Chosen One.
And Obi-Wan was scum on the bottom of his Master's boots.
He did not understand why Qui-Gon wanted him more than Obi-Wan. This boy was much too old. During his life on Tatooine he had been exposed to the darker aspects of life, and the young children were more likely to turn if their unprepared minds were showed the true cruelness of the galaxy.
He was scared, too. Whether it be the newness of his environment or the separation from his mother, it wasn't good. No Jedi-prospect should feel fear of this magnitude.
Besides, there was something not quite right with Anakin Skywalker. Something that suggested recklessness, a lack of empathy and self-control, making him a potentially dangerous person, Jedi or not.
Obi-Wan was an adult, fast approaching Knighthood. He was mature, well-spoken, intelligent and occasionally comical. He fought well, was highly attuned to the Force, and could be calm in any given situation. He protected his Master with a fervor envied by other Padawans. He was clever, easy to get a long with, and logical.
And still, Qui-Gon's attention was more focused on the unstable child than Obi-Wan.
He stubbornly put it out of his mind, and listened attentively as Queen Amidala made battle plans with the Gungan Jar Jar Binks.
Heat had engulfed his entire body from the tips of his extremities to the very core of his torso, but it was the sweet reprimanding empowerment from the rush from the fight. He knew that'd he'd suffer later from all the kicks and falls his body had sustained, but delighted in the battle of the moment, knowing that despite its violent tendencies, it was merciful in its own odd ways.
But fate intervened, forcing the battle to overpower one of the three combatants. As Obi-Wan could only watch from behind the energy shields protecting the plasma cores of Naboo's capital city Theed, his Master was run through by the demonic Sith they were battling.
"No!" Obi-Wan screamed, his body bursting with a fresh spell of intense fighting heat, so intense that he could not remain stationary. Without hesitation, he shifted toward the energy shield that kept him between he and the Sith and with one swift stroke he hacked the metal energy emitter. The emitter sputtered brightly showering sparks at the Sith, blinding him. Without wasting a second, Obi-Wan leapt forward, driving his lightsaber into the Sith's chest and slashing across, slicing his heart, lung, and taking off an arm. His enemy sputtered and fell with only a low, guttural grunt.
Obi-Wan did not waste time contemplating his brutal defeat of the Sith but rushed quickly to his wounded Master's side.
"Master," Obi-Wan said. He scooped up his Master from the cold floor and cradled him, hoping his own fiery heat would somehow warm and comfort his severely injured teacher. He was hurt badly, but Obi-Wan sensed there was hope.
"I," Qui-Gon said. "I don't think..."
"No," Obi-Wan said firmly. "No. I'm not a Knight yet, Master."
Obi-Wan cleared his mind, soothed his body, purified his heart, and then connected himself to Qui-Gon's spirit. He ordered it quite simply to not leave his body. Then, he worked on the flesh. He brought relief to the burned cells, sealed the ruptured organs, and encouraged his blood to bring nutrients to the wound to stimulate the healing it needed.
As he worked he heard Qui-Gon's voice in his mind through the temporary spiritual link they shared.
If I am to die, Obi-Wan, do not try to fight the will of the Force.
You are not meant to die, Master. Obi-Wan thought, hoping Qui-Gon could hear him. A telepathic bond of this magnitude was rarely attained in the Master/Padawan relationship that Jedi had, and Obi-Wan was unaccustomed to it. He had experienced it only once before and it was hard to call upon the memory. While in the early years of his tutelage under Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had fallen very ill and for days it had seemed that he would succumb to the illness. During that time of confusing pain and sick fire that had plagued his body, his Master had been there for him and he remembered Qui-Gon's thoughts were his, and his were Qui-Gon's. Such Jedi bonds occurred only at times of great torment for either the teacher or the learner.
Am I? It was not so much a question as it was a testing phrase.
No, you are not. Obi-Wan thought firmly. His Master's easy acceptance of death was disquieting and he felt he did not need such distracting emotions if he were to save Qui-Gon. You have more things to live for. You can either help me or you can lie still, Master. It is your choice.
After a few moments, he heard Qui-Gon think of someone's name, but whose it was Obi-Wan could not precisely tell. It was muffled by his weakness, but Obi-Wan was keen enough to determine it was not his name. Then, Qui-Gon's meager support of the healing process joined his. Obi-Wan was strengthened by the fact he knew his Master was going to live.
But the nature of the name returned to his mind later when his Master received medical treatment at a Naboo hospital. After much soul-searching and deep thought, he came to conclusion that the name had most definitely not been his.
It had been Anakin Skywalker's.
To Be Continued...