Chapter Ten
He had given up on sleeping. Even if he was tired, which he was, there was no way he was allowing the darkness to seep into his subconscious again. The dream had been too horrific, too graphic and was haunting him still. Instead, he would find comfort staring at the fire and stirring the coals to bring the embers back to life. He wasn't sure how much time had passed while he did so. He was waiting on the dawn while he considered his options, which were considerably few. If he attempted to speak with the Estri again, would he be thrust back into what he was now assuming was a different realm of existence? Were the Estri solely responsible for it? If so, how had they done it? How had they gotten past his defenses and controlled his thoughts?
Unless his grip on the Force was more tenuous than he had thought, and their's was advanced. In that case, he was in more danger than he had initially believed, and was essentially at their mercy. The best thing he could do was leave the planet. If they allowed him to. He was beginning to wonder if they would. Would they interfere with that as well?
Or maybe he was still being held captive within the throes of his nightmare! How could he be sure? Maybe Padme had been involved in that as well.
Padme.
The only serenity he had found since his arrival was in Padme's touch, and that worried him as well. Since when had he allowed his emotions to rule over him? He had struggled with his physical reactions toward her since the day they had met, and not once had he surrendered to them. Until his arrival on Lamaria, of course. At that point, everything had changed. His life had changed.
Your life is no longer your own.
The words the Estri spoke in his dream echoed in his thoughts, causing Obi-Wan to wrap himself more tightly in his cloak. He needed to clear his mind. That was the only way to achieve true serenity. To hold his worries and fears in check for the moment or else he was going to go mad.
The fire had died down to small licks of flame, consuming what little fuel was left. He added a couple of sticks, shooting sparks into the air, and causing the flames to chase up after them. The more he stared at it, the more the flames became animated, until they resembled dancers; tiny undulating bodies, leaping, twirling, spinning with tireless motion, sparkling in the heat and the light, mesmerizingly beautiful and passionate. If he could just join them, his troubles would be over. Or maybe they would do him a favor and come to him.
And as if his wish was coming true, one did. A single dancer, clad in white, long, dark hair whipping within the energy of the fire, her eyes burning pure, burning with passion, her lips mouthing words which resembled his name.
He welcomed her with open arms, drawing her out of the blaze. She was heat and light, flame and smoke, and he breathed her in deeply, scorching his throat with her desire. Her tongue was liquid fire in his mouth, but her voice was a soothing salve to his soul as she eased his worries with her words.
"Don't fight it. This is what you want, isn't it? It's what you need. Give your body to me. Let me help you."
He couldn't fight any longer. He was too confused, too tired. If he had died and this was hell, then he may as well enjoy himself.
He dropped whatever guard he had left, allowing the flames to consume him, and was quickly enveloped by her overwhelming heat. Sooner than he had expected, he added his heat to her own, then fell as ash to the jungle floor.
Obi-Wan was awakened at dawn by the noises of the tribe making preparations for the day. The fire had long since died and the embers were cold. He had no idea whether he had hallucinated making love with Padme last night or not, but he wasn't sure if he cared any longer. He had the memory, and that would have to suffice.
He rose and dusted himself off, watching Padme emerge from her tent with a bright smile to greet the morning. She spoke with a few of the tribe members before checking on the patients. Afterward, she walked toward him, still smiling.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," he lied. "Did you?"
"Like a slug," Padme quipped. "I have a feeling today's going to be a great day. Ketha is starting to show improvement. Her skin is darkening! Isn't that great news?"
"Mm hm." Obi-Wan was aware his response was less than enthusiastic. But even though he was out of sorts, he was determined to keep his fears to himself. There was no need to worry Padme any more than necessary.
"How's Anakin?" she asked, as she lowered her pouch off her shoulder allowing it to hit the ground.
"Anakin?" Sith! Even though his apprentice had been on his mind, he had failed to contact the Jedi Temple to check on his condition. What was wrong with him? "I'm going to check on him this morning."
"I hope he's improving as well," Padme replied as she pulled out two bars to share for their morning meal. "Give him my regards."
"I will." Obi-Wan took the protein bar from Padme with a nod of thanks and a smile, but consumed it while he walked.
His ship was actually still in the clearing. On his way there, he had had his doubts. But maybe Padme had been correct. Maybe this was going to be a good day.
After booting up the astromech droid, his flight companion responded with a series a beeps. "I need to contact the Old Folks Home on Coruscant," he informed the droid and then waited for the resulting holographic image. Master Windu was the one who appeared in brilliant blue miniature form above the ship's instrument panel. "Greetings, Master Windu."
"Greetings, Master Kenobi," the Jedi Master replied with a curt bow of his head. "It's good to hear from you. We were concerned."
"I'm checking on the status of my apprentice. What can you tell me?"
"I'm afraid it's not good news. The healers performed a battery of tests, but have only recently come to the conclusion that what's ailing Padawan Skywalker is not a viral agent."
Just as he suspected, Obi-Wan thought. "Then, what is it?"
"This is a serious situation, Master Kenobi, without precedent, and you need to pursue this matter with some caution."
Obi-Wan had never known Master Windu to hesitate over the comm, and he sensed the solemnity of his tone, even through the static of the comm.
"It's his midichlorian count," Windu explained.
"What about it?"
"It's basically non existent."
It took a moment for the words to register in his mind, and Obi-Wan had to ask the Jedi Master to repeat himself - a habit he had not previously formed.
"It's what?"
"The healers have performed repeated counts. Padawan Skywalker's midichlorians have been annihilated somehow."
How was that possible? "What do you mean annihilated?"
"I mean erased. His count is down to less than 100."
That was a loss of over 27,000!
"Be wary, Master Kenobi. We sense a disturbance in the Force."
No shit. "I will. May the Force be with you. Kenobi out."
The image disappeared once he signed off, and then Obi-Wan fell back against his seat, rubbing his weary face with his hand. It simply wasn't possible, but that did it. That was the last Raider to break the bantha's back. It was time to leave, if Padme wanted to or not.
Obi-Wan hopped from his fighter, commanding R4 to hibernate but not shut down. He would be returning momentarily, with a passenger. The droid bleeped its response and followed Obi-Wan's command.
It was simple, he decided. He would take her by force if he had to, but they needed to leave Lamaria now. His mind was made up, and he trudged through the forest to execute his plan, but the further he walked, it seemed the further he had to go. Once again, Lamaria was fighting back. Each time he traveled what he had already determined the distance was between the clearing and the camp, his footsteps brought him right back to the clearing.
It seemed the Estri were not going to allow him to leave, which only confirmed that what he'd thought was a dream was indeed reality. This planet belonged to the Estri, and the Estri were the planet. They controlled it, they controlled him, and they had somehow obviously managed to take control of Padme. She had no memory of their interactions, because she had become possessed by their Estri's power. She had, in some way, stolen Anakin's midichlorians, and there was a good chance she had done the same to him.
It was Padme all along, though not exactly. It was the Estri working through Padme. By absorbing other's midichlorians, they were transforming themselves to become one with the Force, although their name for it was the Enlightened One.
"Am I right?" He asked the planet itself, which answered him positively by opening the path between himself and the camp. He could see Padme ahead beneath the roof of the infimary caring for her patients, which weren't patients all. They were victims. Her victims.
Maybe now that he had found the answers, the Estri would allow him to leave. It was a nice thought, which lasted for about a nanosecond, because as soon as he took one step toward the camp, he could feel the energy begin to drain from his body.
Two more steps, and he stumbled and fell to one knee, maintaining his focus upon the camp where Padme worked. It took most of the strength he had left to rise, but he managed to take another step before he fell a final time, landing flat on his back. It was getting harder to breathe now, and the morning's light was beginning to darken around the edges of his narrowing field of vision.
So, this is what Ketha felt. It wasn't a bad way to go, he decided. There was no pain. Just weakness and relative silence.
And Padme's face above him. Padme's beautiful, smiling face.
"It's okay, Obi-Wan. Welcome to Enlightenment," he heard her say just before the light faded into nothingness.