THERE IS NO HOW
by ardavenport
- - - Part 1
The energy bolts slammed into the wall above, raining debris down onto Yorin, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Taaz Treyu. They ducked down under the hoods of their robes, evading the shower of smoking duracrete chunks, plaster and dust. These droids had learned not to shoot directly at them; too many of them had gone down from their own energy bolts ricocheted from Jedi lightsabers. But their attempt to bring the top of the building down on them was futile. They did not have enough fire power.
Hearing an ominous groaning of armor grinding against more heavy metaloid, Obi-Wan lifted his head, his grip tight on his lightsaber hilt. Next to him, Taaz, Knight Yorin's Padawan, gasped.
The top of a super-tank ponderously rose up higher than the wall that protected them. Where had the Ghaszhu gotten that?! Armored, pebbly-gray, the dome of it was followed by an immense turret slowly swivelling in their direction.
FFFFZZZ-ZZZZZTTT-TTTTT!
Knight Yorin's lightsaber ignited, bright green in the double sunlight, the large orange primary low on the horizon, the intense bright blue secondary at zenith. Jumping to her feet, lightsaber high, her long spotted ears erect against her black hair, she swept the air with her blade but there was no return fire from the droids that had fallen back. The black hole of the cannon muzzle slowly swung toward her. Obi-Wan felt the Force sweep before it, like a hot breeze. Yorin turned toward them, pointing.
"Guard the door!"
Grabbing Taaz's collar, Obi-Wan jumped up and, kicking broken, dismembered droid parts aside, they ran to the archway, his blue lightsaber hissing on. Taaz's green lightsaber joined it. The doors were closed, locked, bolted and shielded, but if the Ghaszhu had gotten a tank to attack the Takkrim central government building from the outside, they already had fighters, perhaps with more heavy weapons, on the inside. But how, he wondered. And why? The Takkrim Council had agreed to most of their demands for autonomy on the system's secondary planet.
"AAAAaaaa-aaaaaa-aaaaaaahhh-hhhhhhhhhh!"
Black hair flying, Yorin leaped up high, flipping in the air before landing on top of the wall, her light brown robe whipping around her stout body. She was only a little shorter than Obi-Wan's sixteen year-old height, but nearly twice as broad in the shoulders. The muzzled of the cannon locked into place, pointed right at Yorin.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth - -
- - thunder and heat drove him back, his arms coming up to protect his face, Taaz behind him. But through all that was the Force, radiating down from Yorin like the light fron the blue sun above. Looking up again, Obi-Wan saw the deflected orange and yellow fire of the blast flying away toward the tops of the high buildings around them.
The cannon roared again.
This time he saw Yorin swing her saber down, catching the white-hot center of the blast. A round green aura larger than Yorin formed around the line of the blade like a shield, catching the blast and sending it off into another direction.
The cannon roared again.
The green lightsaber swung again, sending the blast down onto the body of the tank. Yorin jumped back at the same time as the explosion, flares shooting upward from the tank below. The dome of the tank descended and vanished, leaving only an enormous trail of black smoke that dimmed the burning blue dot of a sun above.
"Obi-Wan!" Taaz's high voice called at the same time as he whirled around. The door!
A sharp pain burned across his thigh and he dropped his lightsaber, hilt clicking as it bounced on the durcrete terrace, the blue blade going out. Taaz's green lightsaber blade caught the next red energy bolts. The shield was off, the door opened, just enough to allow a black blaster muzzle to poke out.
FOCUS.
The heat of the Force swelled inside him; the pain vanished. Obi-Wan's lightsaber flew up into his waiting hand and he joined Taaz deflecting the bolts coming through the opening in the door. It was a little wider. Two blaster muzzles extended from the opening, spitting red fire at them. Obi-Wan could see the faces of the Ghaszhu loyalists. He recognized one, a guard with Councilor Urridit's group, gray hair, darker gray skin, almost no chin and dark glaring eyes.
"AAAaaaaaaa-aaaahhhhhhhhh!"
Yorin shouted over the gunfire and she landed in front of Taaz. With one stride she slashed downward, slicing off the ends of the blasters. Sparking, the weapons dropped to the ground. Obi-Wan and Taaz ran to take positions on either side of the partially opened door, Obi-Wan on the right, Yorin and Taaz on the left, lightsabers up and humming.
Voices, muffled by the heavy doors, competed with the rising background of fighting getting closer. Obi-Wan sensed anger, frustration, determination, but little fear.
"Where's that heavy gun?!"
"I've lost contact with Pakcho!"
Their surprise attack was failing. The Ghaszhu were a minority who mistakenly thought of themselves as the majority. Proud, disciplined and honest, they still had a knack for alienating those not in their caste and they rigidly found few worthy of joining them on equal terms. The betrayal of this attack was a surprise that would have to be sorted out after it was put down.
"Agon!" someone called from inside. He was a senior member of the negotiating team, on the Ghaszhu's elected council. Obi-Wan heard the tone of Agon's voice speaking back to the caller but not the words. The ambush was not going well. The sounds of fighting got closer.
Voices hushed, an argument broke out behind the doors. They were losing ground; government security troops were approaching. But they could hear the lightsaber hum just beyond their only door of escape and no one was willing to be first.
"Surrender!" Yorin called out, back to the door, her dark brown eyes toward the building, her round green cheeks pale and darkly spotted next to her long thick black hair. "Throw out your weapons and you won't be harmed!"
"We petition for amnesty from the Council!" It was Morlu, the head of the Ghaszhu negotiating team.
"I don't have the authority to grant you amnesty."
"Then you have nothing for us."
Yorin raised her voice. "The Jedi can petition for your amnesty! If you surrender peacefully." She dipped her bright green blade, down and up, across the opening."You have no escape. It will go better for you if you surrender here."
The sounds of battle had stopped. They heard pounding and shouting behind another barrier inside. Obi-Wan thought he recognized his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, among them, calling for the former attackers, former negotiators to surrender.
The pounding eventually silenced. Listening carefully, Obi-Wan only heard the ominous hum of their lightsabers and movement of the people trapped inside. They were calmer, but still fiercely frustrated. The breeze over the terrace smelled significantly fresher, less of singed metal and burning plastoids; the light from the suns brightened as the smoke cleared. Taaz peered around Yorin; she was the same species as her Master, with pale green skin, but her short hair was dark brown and she had dark bluish spots on her forehead and chin as well as her cheeks. And being a year younger than Obi-Wan, her Padawan's braid was a bit shorter.
A hand blaster came flying out of the opening. Followed by more side arms and then large heavy fire blasters. And recharge packs, bouncing and clattering from the black pile of weapons. Someone in the room called out that they were surrendering, but not to the Jedi outside, to the Takkrim security forces at the door inside. They heard it opening.
Yorin sighed, closing her eyes. Her lightsaber went out; Taaz and Obi-Wan extinguished theirs as well. Letting the Force go, Obi-Wan felt the burn on his thigh flare back into his attention. It was not too bad since he could still stand on it, but the near-miss seared into his flesh. Putting a hand over it, he felt the burnt fabric, the tight tender skin underneath. He on the door, taking his weight off his injured leg.
"You're injured." Clipping her saber to the wide brown belt around her wide middle, Yorin went to him.
"It's not serious."
Brushing her hand past his leg, she nodded. "No, it's not. But don't stand on it." She grasped his arm and guided him to sit on the ground, back to the door. "Taaz, go get Master Qui-Gon."
Taaz, who was stout and busty like her Master, was still just small enough to squeeze through the opening in the doors. There was a lot of noise inside, the Ghaszhu being rounded up and taken into custody, but the confrontations were only verbal. A few moments later Obi-Wan felt the door behind him move a little with a grinding sound. Qui-Gon emerged and knelt next to Yorin to examine the wound, his long brown hair hanging down over his shoulders.
"I was distracted, Master. I have no excuse." He lowered his eyes.
"A costly mistake," Qui-Gon agreed, nodding. "But not a fatal one." Hand on Obi-Wan's knee, his tone lightened a moment before he turned to Yorin. "The negotiations are ended."
"I told them that we would petition for amnesty if they surrendered peacefully."
A shouted insult from inside told them that the surrender was not completely peaceful, but there were still no sounds of fighting as the room emptied, the Ghaszhu being taken away.
Qui-Gon sighed and nodded. "We can ask, but I would not expect a rational response for at least a day. The Takkrim are very angry. The Ghaszhu were apparently so convinced of the righteousness of their cause that they took for granted that the local populace would support their insurrection." Qui-Gon looked up at the building, toward the Council chambers, the smooth tan outer wall burned and pockmarked. "It is fortunate that their heavy weapons failed or there would have been far more loss of life."
"Master Yorin destroyed the tank, Master," Obi-Wan exclaimed, finally able to express his complete amazement at what he had witnessed. "She deflected the blasts from the cannon."
Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose and he turned to Yorin. She shrugged with a smile. "The Force was with me."
With a smile back, her fellow Master agreed. "Indeed it was." Then he sighed. "But we must now deal with the aftermath - - "
"Master," Obi-Wan interrupted. "She deflected the blasts with her lightsaber." Both of them looked at him now. "It was a truly heroic act." His eyes looked up at Yorin, who was not even a full Master, Taaz being her first Padawan of only a few years. "I did not realize that was possible," he went on. Surely a blow like that should be recognized in the Jedi Archives. "Even Master Qui-Gon - - "
"Obi-Wan!"
His attention snapped back to his own Master and the sudden harsh tone in his voice. Qui-Gon pinned him with his glare for a moment before turning back toYorin. He bowed his head to her.
"My apologies. I have failed my Padawan very badly."
Lowering her eyes, she inclined her head back. "That is unfortunate. I believe the medical droid can tend his injuries back at the ship. I can speak to the Takkrim for us if you wish to return him there."
"Thank-you."
"But - - "
"Obi-Wan." Again his Master's tone silenced him. Behind the two older Jedi, Taaz's mouth gaped open in surprise. He was only slightly reassured to know that he was not the only one there who did not understand what he'd done wrong. And why he should not speak about what an amazing thing Yorin had done.
"Master?" Taaz high voice began.
Yorin held a hand up without looking back at her. "We will discuss this later, Padawan."
She nodded, a tiny little dip of her head, but her eyes cast sympathy toward Obi-Wan.
Rising, Qui-Gon, stepped over Obi-Wan's legs and then knelt again, his arms sliding under his apprentice's legs and behind his back. Standing, he lifted Obi-Wan up in his arms.
"I will return when I can."
The door was just wide enough for Qui-Gon to get through carrying him. Most of the people were gone, but a Council aide remained to thank the Jedi for their service. Qui-Gon politely accepted and asked for a transport back to the spaceport.
Obi-Wan remained still in his Master's arms as they rode the lift down. He was sure he could walk, though it would be painful. But Qui-Gon's admonishment meant that he was not to speak until his Master was ready to speak to him and that was obviously not until they reached the ship. Head reading against Qui-Gon's chest, he wondered again what he had done wrong. Had he been too effusive of Yorin's accomplishment? Jedi never bragged about their abilities; but Qui-Gon's response implied that he had done something much worse than that.
When they reached the ground floor, the aide and two guards who had accompanied them down led the way to a side entrance. The promised transport was waiting, a shiny black speeder with a closed canopy. One of the guards took the front driver's seat while Qui-Gon lowered Obi-Wan to the back seat and then got in himself on the other side next to him. The door slid shut, the canopy closing, instantly cutting off the post-battle clean-up noises. With only the gentlest shifts in acceleration, the guard lifted up into the traffic levels and the speeder zoomed toward the spaceport.
Closing his eyes and inhaling, Obi-Wan cleared his mind. No matter what his offense, Qui-Gon would have him meditate about it. . . . but he couldn't.
Clearing his mind only reinforced his awareness of the black cloud sitting next to him. His Master was very disturbed by what he had done, as if he had violated the Jedi Code itself. But there was nothing in the Code that said that one could not speak at all about heroic acts. And deflecting a cannon blast with nothing but a single lightsaber was surely heroic. The Archives and Annals of the Jedi Order were full of them. He knew that his own Master, when he was much younger, had once used the Force to hold an entire building from collapse until the people inside were all evacuated.
The speeder slowed, passing by the loading gates and going directly to the side of their ship. They had arrived in a diplomatic cruiser with the authority of the Galactic Senate to accommodate the planetary senator and his staff in the style that they were accustomed. Violence had not been expected though the negotiating parties were thoroughly hostile to each other. The Jedi had been added to the team. Just in case.
As soon as the speeder stopped, Obi-Wan hit the door control and painfully climbed out. When Qui-Gon came around to his side, he stood at attention. He would not object to being carried, but he wanted show that he did not need it.
Qui-Gon silently inclined his head, and gestured for him to proceed, a completely neutral response. Limping, Obi-Wan went to the entry ramp. His leg hurt a lot now.
A shiny silver Senatorial protocol droid greeted them. "Master Jedi, may I be of service?"
Qui-Gon spoke over his head. "My Padawan has been injured. Please inform the Med-Center that we are coming."
"Of course." The droid inclined its head, backing away.
By the time they arrived the Med Center was active, lights on, the medical droid waiting for them. Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan out of his robe and lifted him up onto the examination table. The droid introduced itself as CR-48.
Staring up at the examination lights and sensors, Obi-Wan ignored the droid as it worked except to move and turn when it asked. Qui-Gon answered the questions about the type of injure and when it happened. CR-48 numbed the area around the blaster burn, cut away the pant leg, cleaned and bandaged it.
His back turned away from droid and his apprentice, Qui-Gon studied a lighted medical display. The air in the room was sterile with artificial freshness.
When it was finished, CR-48 had Obi-Wan sit up and stand. There was no nerve damage, but the medical droid told him to refrain from any heavy exercise and return the next day to have the dressing changed.
Feeling a touch on his shoulder, Obi-Wan quickly turned and looked up at Qui-Gon who picked up his robe and thanked the droid. They left together.
Finally returning to their shared stateroom, Qui-Gon put Obi-Wan's robe on the table by the view port and then added his own robe to it. It was one of the smaller stateroom, with bunks on either side, shelves, a table in the middle with two chairs. The room was completely symmetrical in gray and blue, with an utterly neutral atmosphere smelling faintyly of synthetic fabric. Yorin and Taaz shared one exactly like it except in green and gold. Obi-Wan started to lower himself to one of the two round cushions they had placed on the floor for their morning meditation, but Qui-Gon stopped him.
"Sit in the chair for now, until your leg is healed." He pulled a chair out, away from the table so it faced the cushions. Obi-Wan lowered himself into it. Taking one blue cushion and pushing the other aside, Qui-Gon sat cross-legged on it and faced him. Then he bowed low, his forehead almost touching the ground.
"I have failed you, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I do not see how." It was the first time he had spoken since leaving the Takkrim government building.
Qui-Gon sat back and sighed. "That is my failing."
- - - END Part 1
