CONFLICT
by ardavenport
- - Part 1
Secretary Pintor struck the door seal with the blue crystalline head of his staff.
The circular seal activated, glowing yellow under the outer edges before the center symbols blazed bright white. A low gong sounded. The doors parted slowly. More than an arm's length in thickness they rumbled back into the wall. Obi-Wan Kenobi could feel the vibration in the floor through his boots.
Staff held high, Secretary Pintor moved forward, his shimmering blue cape trailing behind him. The two Jedi followed.
"This is the Chamber of Punishment," their guide announced, his high voice carrying in the large space. Obi-Wan looked about, peering at the room from under his hood. Nearby, his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, did the same, slowly walking toward the perimeter, arms tucked into the opposite sleeves of his concealing robe.
Colorless artificial light spilled out from under covers on the ceiling high above. Even, neutral lighting that allowed few shadows. The rough gray walls, minimally decorated with only a columned pattern, looked as solid as the door. And just as impenetrable. Nothing lived in this room. No one and nothing wanted to stay in this place. He looked toward his Master and knew that the older man sensed it, too.
"How will the ceremony proceed?" Qui-Gon asked, not looking at the secretary; his eyes continued scanning the room from under his dark brown hood.
"The judges will enter first," Pintor began, assuming a position near the center of the room while the Jedi continued to move around the perimeter. "With escorts." Pintor's black pantsuit stretched over the rounded parts of his belly and stumpy legs, his blue cape pooled around his large rounded feet.
He pointed a stubby finger down the length of the room on the right side of the entry door at a row of chairs on a raised platform .
"You will enter next, with escorts, and stand on either side of the judges," Pintor continued.
"May we be in the chamber when the ceremony begins?" Qui-Gon asked, "here." He pointed at a recess opposite the door. "And there." He pointed at a matching recess just to the left of the door.
Surprised, Pintor looked from recess to recess, his three gold and blue star-burst eyes wide, his mane of white hair fluffed.
"Of course, if you wish. This whole proceeding is unprecedented. Our government has no objection to accommodating any changes you might need. So long as the sentence is carried out. Quickly." Pintor pressed his heavy lips together, turned away and began marching away from the judges' chairs. His cloak swished on the floor in his wake.
"Here." He pointed at rows of stone benches on the judges' right. "The witnesses and the wronged will come in next and be seated here. There will be guards at the doors, behind the judges, the witnesses. . . ."
The secretary tuned toward the end of the room opposite the judge and dipped his staff toward a brightly lit medical table fixed to a raised area, a few steps higher than the rest of the floor.
"The condemned will enter last, face the judges and be escorted there. By yourselves." Pintor glanced first to Qui-Gon, then to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon inclined his head in return. Obi-Wan did nothing. His Master would speak for both of them.
"As has been agreed, you will conduct the punishment that will be performed by the droid. To preserve the diplomatic immunity of the representatives of the Galactic Republic, only the Galactic Republic with deliver the punishment. We will not interfere or assist in any way. No matter how well . . . . or badly it goes." Pintor's three eyes looked hard at Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan sensed worry from the secretary.
"It will go well," Qui-Gon assured him.
The texture of Pintor's worry changed from the future to the present, directed at the ominous dark-robed figure standing over him.
"If you have seen everything you need, may I escort you back to rejoin your ambassador, until you are needed? We have a place for you to wait."
"We would like a moment alone here to review tonight's events."
Pintor turned from one to the other Jedi before answering.
"Of course. I will be waiting outside in the atrium. Take as much time as you need." He hurried out.
The enormous door remained open, but there was no one else around, not even guards. Qui-Gon pushed the hood of his robe back off his head, his long hair falling down over his shoulders.
Pushing his own hood back, Obi-Wan looked all around the room, floor, ceiling, walls. It was built like a fortress, large and imposing, made of oppressive stone and duracreet that could crush the fragile bodies of the living with its weight.
Qui-Gon went to the medical table. He laid his hands on its black metaloid surface while Obi-Wan looked from one to the other of the recesses where Qui-Gon wanted them to stand.
"You will position yourself by the door, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's eyes followed his Master's gesture toward one of the recesses.
"I will be opposite you."
"Why should we be here when the officials arrive?"
"Palorus Kremis was tried in a joint Republic/Kraytor court in absentia. While he knows the verdict and has appealed it for some time, he does not know of the agreement between the Kraytor System and the Republic about his punishment. And that the Jedi have agreed to deliver it to preserve the pretense of diplomatic immunity," Qui-Gon finished with a tone of displeasure.
"We will approach Kremis only when called upon. I will take advantage of his surprise to influence him to go to the droid and accept his punishment. You will follow. If my influence is successful, or if he has relented and accepted his fate, then we will need to do no more than that. But if he resists. . . . . I will strike. He will not be given the chance to refuse. And you must be prepared to at the first opportunity if I am unsuccessful."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly.
"This must be done quickly. This case has dragged out in the courts for years. All parties are weary of it and eager for a resolution."
"Even Kremis?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Yes," Qui-Gon affirmed. "Though the outcome he has been seeking is no longer available for him."
Past his Master, Obi-Wan noticed heavy straps hanging from the black metaloid struts of the medical table, the angular outlines showing up strongly against the gray stone wall.
"The Force will guide your hand, if necessary, but do not anticipate. You will know, if the time comes."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. He was sure it would. But Qui-Gon did not reply; he went back to examining the medical table, running his fingers over its smooth, slatted surface.
"You are disturbed by our mission," Obi-Wan stated. Qui-Gon only glanced his way before his attention returned to what his hand touched.
"This is a mission of vengeance. That is not the Jedi way."
"Is it not the Jedi way to make peace, to obey the Council's orders?"
"This mission will bring little peace. But it is our way to obey the Council." Qui-Gon let his hand fall down to his side and turned to Obi-Wan. "Palorus Kremis's punishment will not reverse any of his crimes. It will bring no material benefit or comfort to his victims. And it cannot be expected to bring about any revelation or repentance from Kremis. It is only for the sake of base vengeance."
"We are only the intermediaries. Here to settle the dispute. It is not our vengeance."
"Do not deceive yourself that we are separate from this, my young Padawan, just because we are only following the Council's orders. We are made part of the Kraytor vengeance on Kremis by our actions alone. And I find that disturbing."
"You did not say so at the mission briefing."
"No," Qui-Gon agreed with an exhale. "There would be no point. If not us, others would be sent to bring what little peace is possible to this situation. The conflict would remain," Qui-Gon acknowledged, leaving the medical table, descending the three steps to the floor.
"Sometimes, the ways of the Jedi conflict. We must all find our way through them," Qui-Gon finished wearily. "Come."
Qui-Gon led them out of the lifeless Chamber of Punishment. They put up the hoods of their robes again and folded their arms before them. Side by side, they made their way back through the halls to the atrium of the Justice Building. The few passers by who noticed them looked hastily away.
"Master Jedi", Pintor turned to them immediately. Obi-Wan recognized the two judges with him, dressed in ordinary pants and tunics, working clothes, standing with the secretary. Both of them accepted the Jedi's silent bows with wary nods.
Nobody said anything.
The noises of the usual daytime activities of the workers at the Justice building echoed around them.
"Hmmrrrph." Pintor cleared his throat. "Ambassador Zimpot will join us in a moment. Judge Cremostor and Judge Itor have no objection to you being present in the room before the proceedings begin. The droid will be in the room as well. We will summon you when we begin the preparations. The proceeding will be at sunset."
"Thank-you." Qui-Gon answered politely.
Nobody said anything again.
The two judges exchanged worried three-eyed glances. Obi-Wan stayed still. Feeling Qui-Gon's disinterest in any social interaction, he followed that example. A familiar jingling sound approached, but Obi-Wan remained as unconcerned as his Master.
"Ambassdor Zimpot!" Pintor exclaimed, clearly relieved. "We were just discussing this evening's business with Master Qui-Gon here. He has found the arrangement satisfactory and we will summon him and his apprentice when we are ready."
"Good," Ambassador Zimpot graciously returned the Jedi's bows, her headdress, jacket and wide belt over her curvy hips jingled with bright gold bangles with every motion. "We will be waiting in Judge Turgotor's offices until we are needed. If you will come with me, Master Jedi, I will show you the way."
Zimpot briskly walked off. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon followed.
- - End Part 1