Chapter 2: Enter stage left
The Jedi Council chamber was bathed in the mellow-red glow of sunset, crimson light splashing across the ornate floor. Circular in design and majestic, with pillared windows framing the onset of coming night, the room was a breathtaking center of calm and beauty, the very heart of the Jedi Temple. The dying light hid well the worn tiles and cornered dust of neglect.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, ignored the bleak evidence of his eyes and the brilliant glare of blood-red luminescence streaking across his face. The siren call of the lights of approaching night did not tempt him. He was here to be briefed on his upcoming mission, not look at the increasing decay that was the Jedi Temple. And so, standing in the very center of the Council Chamber, arms folded, face stony and shuttered, mental shields up, Knight Kenobi waited and watched. By his side, his Padawan, Atel Sl'etah, stood as well, silent and ready for the briefing to begin.
Obi-Wan glanced at his apprentice, frowning slightly. Atel was nearly 20 now, with brown eyes and maroon hair, a slight purple tint to her skin but otherwise human. Dressed in typical drab grey-beige tunics, frayed chocolate robe, and worn boots, she looked threadbare and destitute. Only the lightsabers truly indicated that they were Jedi and even the sabers were shabby, showing signs of much use.
Damn, Obi-Wan thought, she looks like a refugee, not a respected member of the Jedi Order. His frown deepened. She deserves better than this. If only I could make them understand that money spent on proper clothing is not a waste of resources. Appearances do matter to those in power.
Looking down at his own tattered garb, he grimaced, I don't look so wonderful myself.
His thoughts turned towards Atel again. It did not seem possible that she had been his Padawan for ten years. Had it really been that long? mused Obi-Wan, ten years since the first of the dismissals, since the beginning of the strangulation of the Jedi Order over money. He snorted silently, It was always about power, never money.
Closing his weary eyes for a moment, he gently sighed, I wish that things had been different.
The Jedi Knight tried to bring his thoughts back to the matters at hand but he was tired, exhausted really, and he knew Atel was, too. They had only just returned from a grueling assignment a few hours ago. That one had been disastrous all right but somehow, somehow, they had managed to pull out a success from a very near failure -again.
Now, Obi-Wan reflected wearily, another task and another and another. How can they expect success every time when they keep pushing us beyond the limits of endurance? He swayed slightly. Perhaps because they want us to fail?
That was an uncomfortable thought, but it wasn't the first time he had pondered the question. It made sense, too, with the exhausting workload, the back-to-back missions, doing the work of two or three teams and no one to pull the Jedi out when they got into serious trouble.
He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed out a slow, resigned sigh. And here we go again.
He thought that his actions would not be noticed. But his ever-alert Padawan glanced towards her Master and sent a gentle pulse through their bond. //Focus, Master.//
Obi-Wan sent her a weak chuckle tickling back. And then he centered himself, breathing deeply, settling in to wait for the briefing to begin.
As the seconds stretched into endless minutes, Obi-Wan began to wonder why they were still waiting. He said nothing, of course. It was up to the Council to decide when and how briefings, or for that matter any discussions within these chambers, were to be conducted. Perhaps they were waiting for more information; perhaps another Council member was to join them.
Perhaps it was a subtle form of power play, to impress upon this Jedi Knight just what his place in the Order was.
At the moment, Obi-Wan noted that only three Jedi Council members were in attendance, none of whom he knew well. Kenobi began to feel the slightest pinprick of apprehension. The white-furred Bothan, Trest Sle'fey, head of the Committee for Jedi Missions, was known for his strict adherence to the letter rather than the intent of Republic law. The green-tinged Rodian, Veendo, was in charge of Sedition Activity Investigations, a group that had grown recently, much to Obi-Wan's dismay, looking into all aspects of Temple activity with great alacrity. The last, the Head of the Council, Master Sera Tharten, was a tall blue-skinned human female of indeterminate age. She was exceptionally outspoken on the uses of Temple regulation control and had written the stringent, restrictive code for 'Standards for Jedi Behavior' instituted last year. Of these, only Master Tharten had had any significant interaction with Obi-Wan. And those confrontations had been unpleasant; he avoided her whenever possible.
The Masters were all youngish, too. No older, more experienced Councilors - knowledge yes, but there was no wisdom here, only likely punishment for petty and cryptic infractions.
Obi-Wan's tickle of unease began to increase to a full-blown itch. This was not going to be pleasant. Silently sighing, he wondered what marginal offense he would be accused of this time. Unlike his former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not known for bending the rules, but he had been tainted by association and it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.
For a few more long moments, no one spoke. The Jedi Councilors shifted uneasily in the rounded chairs as though anxious to be away. Then, from behind Obi-Wan, a derisive voice sounded.
"Do you know why you have been called here, Jedi Kenobi?"
"No, Representative Zaros." Obi-Wan quietly replied to the rat-faced, overly-dressed man.
Making his way ponderously around the dusty, darkening room, his ornate red robes glistening with fine embroidery and sparkles of light as he strutted past the bars of fading luminescence, hair perfectly in place, Kenth Zaros came to stand before the Knight, his condescending, narrowed eyes boring into him. The garish gemstones in the man's cravat alone were blinding.
Obi-Wan's words had been perfectly polite and did nothing to betray the absolute loathing that he felt for the foppish, decadent human. Luckily, Zaros was not a Jedi or else Obi-Wan might have faced a severe reprimand for his wayward thoughts, and a reprimand these days was not a thing to take lightly.
"We have a special mission for you, one for which you are uniquely qualified."
Zaros smiled slightly, paused and then, deliberately sat down next to Master Tharten, not in the guest chair reserved for Republic officials but in a seat that should have been used by the Jedi Council members only. Not there, Obi-Wan's thoughts raged, not there. You have no right.
He moved imperceptibly, almost in protest, and then eased back to ready stance and waited, tight fists clenched under his threadbare Jedi robes. He breathed out, trying to get some semblance of control of the almost involuntary wish to throttle the man, and swallowed hard. When Kenth Zaros, Senate Representative of the Oversight Committee on Jedi Affairs, smiled, misfortune certainly followed.
Obi-Wan's revulsion spiked, his thoughts on a fast jumble of past missions, of the anguish and death that this man seemed to relish. He tried to tamp down the roiling emotions before the other Jedi seated in the chamber could become aware of them and comment. His Padawan hastily glanced at him, an admission that she was reading her Master far too well.
"We want you to investigate..." Zaros paused for dramatic theatrical effect and Obi-Wan's simmering apprehension skyrocketed. But when he said nothing, was silent as stone, the degenerate bureaucrat continued, "Qui-Gon Jinn. Your old Master, I believe."
Obi-Wan went absolutely rigid with shock, shields buckling for a brief moment before regaining his calm. Zaros's smirk grew predatory, his beady eyes glittering, and he nodded as if pleased with the traumatic effect that he was inflicting on the Jedi Knight.
He replied softly, "Sir, I have had no contact with Master Jinn for ten years. I have repeatedly asked to be allowed to do so but every request has been refused."
Zaros snickered and waved his bejeweled fingers, flicking an imaginary piece of dust from his glittering ornate robes. "Yes, I know. He was a bad influence on you. It was in the best interests of the Jedi Order that contact be denied."
Obi-Wan moved again, stepping towards the Senate representative, furious eyes narrowed with revulsion. His voice was low, cold, dangerous. "What do you mean by that?"
The Rodian Council Member spoke up, dismissively, "We all know that Jinn was a rogue." Obi-Wan's eyes widened in stunned disbelief, angry beyond words as the other Jedi members murmured in agreement with Veendo's assessment. "Again and again he went against the Jedi Council, following his own path, ignoring the direct orders of his obvious superiors. It was blatantly, openly rogue behavior. And, what's more, it was sedition of the worst kind. "
Obi-Wan could not believe what he was hearing. If possible, his voice iced further. "He was following the will of the Force."
The Rodian snorted. "So he said."
Obi-Wan closed his weary eyes for a moment, trying desperately to regain what little calm remained to him. He knew if he protested too much, he would be punished and Atel as well. For her sake, he breathed deeply once, twice, but the bile rising in his throat, anger pushing past all reason. He had to regain control.
Voice dripping with derision, Zaros spoke up again. He seemed oblivious to what Obi-Wan was feeling, or perhaps not caring. "Good riddance to bad rubbish. Damn old fool."
Zaros had done many things over the years, to both Obi-Wan and to his beloved Jedi Order. This last statement was almost too much, a small thing among all of the other countless injustices, all the deaths and destruction that this man had wrought on the Jedi. Now, Obi-Wan stepped quickly forward, shaking hands rising. The Bothan barked out, white fur whirling in dismay. "Yes, Kenobi, you have a comment?"
Obi-Wan Kenobi stopped abruptly, looked at his alarmed young apprentice and, then with shoulders slumping, stepped back into the center of the Chamber. Quietly, he said "No, Master Sle'fey."
"Good. I would hate to have to reprimand you for any insolence shown to the Senate Representative."
"Of course, Master."
Zaros continued as if nothing was amiss. "Glad to hear that you will be cooperative, Kenobi."
"Of course, Representative Zaros." Obi-Wan clenched his aching jaw at such an impossible lie but knew it would suffice for now. But he would have to release his anger to the Force soon. His wearied thoughts turned to the request at hand. "May I ask what the mission is and how it pertains to Master Qui-Gon?"
"Former Jedi Jinn has been doing the work of a Jedi Knight these past years in strict violation of his mandate." Leaning forward, Zaros thrust his immaculate, manicured hands into the air, frowning and splattered his words into the chamber, sneering voice rising with emphasis. "Jinn's dismissal was very clear as you well know, Kenobi. He defied the Council again and again and what's worse, he failed a number of times to complete his missions. When the cost-cutting efforts started, and with his failures and attitude, it was clear that he would be one of the first to go. He is no longer with the Jedi Order and he is not allowed to act as a Jedi. He must desist his current activities. You have been chosen to investigate and bring him into custody, if necessary, because you know him so very well. Who else but you?" The man leaned back, satisfied, a fat crimson arachnid spinning his cruel web.
Obi-Wan Kenobi murmured, "Who else indeed?"