Next part! Hopefully will have more for you soon...after an SW movie marathon yesterday the muse should be more cooperative. ;) Enjoy!
= Thoughts transmitted through the master/apprentice bond.
ELEVEN
Anakin hadn't moved an inch from the time the Moonrise Trader had begun to pull in her landing gear until the moment she went into hyperspace, the stars becoming bedazzling streaks of light in the black velvet of space. It was a mesmerizing sight, certainly, but he had promised Master Obi-Wan that he would return as soon as the ship had made the jump.
He started to rise, when a small tug at his sleeve caught his attention and he found himself looking down at a small child, no more than four or five standard years old, with very wide green eyes and raven black hair that hung nearly to her waist.
"Are you a magic man?" She whispered wonderingly, and Anakin suppressed the urge to laugh. But he did smile, and he sat back down again so they were partially shielded from others' view. "Well…are you? My brother says people who look like you are magic people."
"Well…" Anakin smiled slyly. "If you promise not to tell anyone…only your brother…" The girl nodded vigorously. Raising his good hand toward her, he lifted her ever so gently with the Force, dangling her feet some few inches off the ground. At first the girl gasped in surprise but then giggled insanely as she kicked her feet and found the "floating" to be an agreeable sensation. Anakin lowered her to the deck and she continued to laugh.
"You are a magic man! I have to clean Waric's room for a week now." Still laughing, the girl ran pell-mell down the corridor between the seats to where a slightly older boy, apparently her brother Waric, sat waiting for her. He could almost hear the whispered, 'See I told you so' as the boy helped her into the seat next to him. Anakin followed at a more sedate pace until he had reached the two, sitting together and looking up at him somewhat in awe.
"You really made her float?" Waric's eyes were wide. "How did you do that?"
"That's a secret." Anakin placed a finger over his lips, and the boy nodded. Hunching down next to them, Anakin looked left and right. No adults nearby. "Are you two all alone?"
"Uh huh." The little girl said.
"Sshh, Teria, we aren't supposed to tell strangers things about us." Waric said, as if suddenly remembering that after the fact. Anakin chuckled a little now.
"It's all right. Magic people like me won't hurt you, Waric." The boy's eyes grew even bigger, if that were possible.
"How…how did you know my name?" The child squeaked out. "Did you…read my mind or something?" Anakin outright laughed now.
"No. Your sister told me."
"Teria!" Waric hissed.
"Well…" Anakin pointed out. "You've given away your sister's name too." At that revelation, the boy's cheeks colored in embarrassment and Teria giggled again.
"We're on our way to meet our grandmother on Uleare." Waric supplied readily, and Anakin nodded, having already recognized the girl as being of Ulearean descent. "Can you show us another magic trick?"
++++++
Obi-Wan had sleepily answered the door, the chime startling him into wakefulness long before his own internal clock would have. On the other side stood one of the ship's crew, holding a pair of trays and looking suddenly nervous to be facing a not-totally-coherent Jedi.
"It's all right." Obi-Wan reassured him. "I would have had to wake up sooner or later." Preferably later. However he did not voice the thought; the crewman looked barely old enough to be of working age and was already nervous enough. Taking the trays from his visitor's grasp, he found the few credits he had at hand and handed them over.
"No, Master Jedi." The boy said nervously. "Keep your credits. It is…a…it is an honor to have you aboard." So much for the low profile…
So saying, the young one nodded his head deferentially and scuttled away, yanking on the handle of the repulsor cart vigorously. Across the way, an older crewman with some greater measure of calm was serving the guests in that compartment; Obi-Wan barely took notice of him as he turned back into the room, the aroma of the meal doing more to awaken him and remind him that he'd only had a single piece of fruit in the last twelve hours.
As the door slid closed behind him, he took note that they had gone into hyperspace, the distortion of space evident through the portal on the far side of the room and the slightly deeper thrum of the hyperdrive detectable. Which meant Anakin should be joining him shortly. Placing the trays onto the table, he went back into the small 'fresher—smaller even than the one in their quarters at the Temple; the accommodation's only drawback—and splashed a little water onto his face, trying to bring himself to some semblance of intelligent consciousness.
Wandering back out into the main area, he crossed back to the table and sighed. It was apparent that Anakin had delayed his return; Obi-Wan supposed he should wait a little longer, at least give the padawan a chance to return on his own before calling him back through the bond. Yawning a little, not quite comfortable with being awake yet despite the cool water on the face routine, he reached for the glass on the tray. Impatience ill-became a Jedi. Qui-Gon had told him that often enough as an apprentice, so he could little afford to ignore that now as a Knight with his own apprentice. But there wasn't anything so impatient about having some water while he waited, and while the fruit earlier had been sweet it had also left him thirsty. Picking up the carafe that sat on the edge of his own tray, Obi-Wan poured himself a partial glass and walked over to the large transparisteel portal, looking out into the endless reaches of space that rushed by in distorted streaks of light.
Wondering absently just what sort of time a ship of this type would make, he raised the glass to his lips.
++++++
Ich'im watched the boy as he returned the cart to its rightful place and prepared to go about other duties that had been assigned to him. Concealed in a small alcove, he waited until the young crewman exited the galley and started down the passageway.
Coming up silently and swiftly behind him, he grabbed the boy and expertly snapped his neck before the luckless conscript could make a sound. No witnesses. Quickly he deposited the body in the main trash receptacle; if this ship was true to form for most passenger liners, it would make a trash dump every half hour. And by the time anyone realized the galley-boy was missing, Ich'im would already be on his way back to Coruscant.
A little confident? Perhaps. But he knew that this was foolproof; the Jedi would die.
Moving quickly, he headed for the lower deck access point, intent on concealing himself in one of the smaller cargo-bays.
++++++
Anakin laughed when the children did, his antics involving the Force and a small handful of wooden blocks entertaining the lonely little youngsters immensely. Suddenly he was aware that he was very late in returning to his master, and he stood up abruptly. Waric dropped his jaw a little and Teria pouted a bit, even though the blocks still floated lazily between them.
"I'll be back, I promise. I just—"
A sensation swept over Anakin, brief but chill…it was enough to disrupt his concentration and send the blocks tumbling to the floor and for a moment his vision blurred. After a moment he realized what he was feeling and without a word to the children, he started to make his way back through the other passengers, heading for the accommodation levels.
Master? What is it? He sent through the bond, certain that he had felt something from Obi-Wan. The same sensation, only stronger this time, rolled over the apprentice and he paused, leaning on the wall for a moment until it passed. Master?!
Hurry. Obi-Wan's single-word reply was enough to frighten the apprentice; it was not a strong contact and sounded strangely distant in Anakin's mind. Worry fueled his steps as he reached the corridor leading back to the passenger compartments; he broke into a run to reach his master.
The next sensation to slam into Anakin was pain. Sharp, intense pain and Anakin forced himself to push through it, knowing it was his master he felt and that something was deeply and desperately wrong. Skidding to a halt outside their compartment, he impatiently waved the passkey and rushed in.
"Master!" He choked out.
Obi-Wan lay motionless on the floor where he'd collapsed; his only response to Anakin's cry was a faint groan. A mere inch from his outstretched hand was a glass he'd dropped, its contents spilled. Anakin quickly knelt beside him, laying his good hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Master…" He murmured softly. "I'm here…I'm right here." Anakin bit his lip; his master was unresponsive and pale, too pale. He moved to place his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, stretching out into the Force, reaching into the bond, trying to find out what was wrong.
He was met with a storm of dizziness and pain. Obi-Wan moaned again and Anakin swallowed convulsively; his master was hurting badly, sharp cramps driving the breath from him in short, shallow gasps. Anakin slipped his prosthetic hand behind his master's shoulders, cradling him a little and placed the flat of his other hand against the stricken Jedi's stomach. Stretching out once more, he tried to ease the pain, doing his best to absorb some of it and release it into the Force, as he'd been taught to do. Healing was not his strength, but Anakin concentrated as much as he could to bring his master some relief. It seemed to help a little; after a long moment Obi-Wan seemed to relax somewhat and his eyes fluttered open.
"Anakin…"
"Sshh, Master…don't try to talk." The padawan sensed that speaking was something of an effort. "Let me help you." Anakin tried again to draw off some of the hurt and was again marginally successful, enough so that Obi-Wan's breathing seemed to come a little easier, not quite so rapid and shallow.
Obi-Wan blinked dazedly; he tried to focus on his padawan's face but everything seemed to spin. He could feel Anakin's efforts to afford him some release from the pain; it felt like someone was digging around inside his stomach with a vibroblade and while Anakin was no healer, the padawan's attempts were helping. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd come to be lying on the floor; everything was fuzzy. He remembered feeling a little lightheaded…dizzy…and then there'd been a slight twinge inside…
The first pains had fairly folded him over, dropping him neatly to his knees, the glass slipping from his fingers. He'd felt Anakin's call through the bond. Hurry. It was all he could get out before the dizziness swept over him again, stronger. He must have passed out then, for the next thing he'd been aware of was his padawan's anxious voice and careful touch.
"Anakin…" He murmured again.
"Easy, Master." He heard Anakin soothe, even though there was a nervous tremor in the young voice. "Do you think you can stand?"
"I can…try."
Anakin shifted now, moving to help Obi-Wan from the floor, getting an arm around his master as the Jedi swayed dizzily. For a moment Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut against the spinning sensation, then nodded a little and Anakin guided him over to the nearer sleep couch.
"I'll get help." Anakin reassured. He didn't really want to leave Master Obi-Wan alone, but he didn't know what else to do; they were stuck in hyperspace Force only knew how far away from Coruscant already. He laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, letting the Force flow through him. Rest. He commanded gently through the bond, and he felt his master relax a little beneath his touch. "I'll be right back, I promise."
Obi-Wan nodded drowsily. Force…he's getting too good at that. But he was too ill to fight it and so allowed himself to drift a little on Anakin's Force-enhanced suggestion.
Anakin looked down at his master a moment as those blue-grey eyes slipped shut. A cold feeling gathered in the pit of his stomach, an icy finger of fear stabbing through him briefly. Fear is the path to the Dark Side... He could almost hear Master Yoda's admonition even now and he forcefully squashed down his feelings the best he could; he never quite felt as if he was able to banish them completely but right now his focus must be on helping his master. With one more reassuring touch through the training bond, Anakin hurried from the room to do what he could to seek aid.
The first thing he did was check in with the ship's infirmary; granted it would be nothing compared to true Jedi healers in the Healing Wing at the Temple, but perhaps they could render enough care to Obi-Wan to help him until they made port. But he was only disappointed when he discovered the ship was picking up their staff physician at their first destination on Aure IV.
Which was another problem…Aure IV was still some distance away and Anakin didn't know if he dared wait that long to find help for his master. Somehow he had the sinking feeling that time was not on his side; he sensed that this was something more than just an unexpected illness.
The glass. Anakin stopped a moment in his tracks as he recalled the emptied glass lying on the floor alongside Obi-Wan, and the realization stole over him that his master had been poisoned…someone wanted to kill him. Someone on this ship…wanted to kill his master. Anakin's throat constricted as he resumed his journey, his steps quickened by this new and disturbing sense.
He headed this time straight for the command cabin, ignoring the strange looks he received from crew, although none dared approach him; most of them had not known there would be Jedi on board and this one certainly did not look like Jedi they wished to confront or question.
There was security of course, and they blocked his entrance to the cabin; non-crew was never allowed inside the control rooms. Anakin drew a deep breath. Hope I can do this as well as Master Obi-Wan. He thought briefly before raising his hand just slightly.
"I must speak with the captain." His voice was quiet yet steady, confident. "He must hear me out."
"He needs to talk with Captain Taran. Let him in." The nearer guard responded first, and the second one blinked a moment then nodded, standing aside. Anakin quickly stepped through the open door; despite his concerns for Master Obi-Wan, he was elated that the mind-trick had been accomplished so easily. Often his attempts were only partially successful, derailed by his own impatience, and now when it mattered most he had been able to pull it off. When Master Obi-Wan is better, I will have to tell him about this one…
Jeric Taran was a tall man, reedy, but with the sort of steely eyes that told those who served under him to be prepared to function like a military man, for that was Taran's background. He'd served once with the militia of his own homeworld and knew how to keep a ship operating smoothly and flawlessly. His rules were law aboard the Moonrise Trader just as if she'd been part of a military fleet.
One of those rules was no passengers in the command cabin.
Needless to say by the time Anakin had crossed the room to him, Taran was displeased and Anakin had discovered that a mind-trick was unlikely to work with this one; he was going to have to use good old fashioned diplomacy and persuasion.
"I knew taking you Jedi on board would be a problem." Taran huffed a bit. "Always is with your kind."
"Captain." Anakin began, his tone carefully controlled as he sought to ignore the meanly spoken words. "I have an important request. We must turn the ship around; we must return to Coruscant."
"Are you insane?" Taran was blunt. "We're already halfway to Aure. Have you no respect for things like schedules and timetables, Jedi?"
"I understand that you have obligations, Captain. But this is important. My master is very ill and we must return to the Jedi Temple at once." Anakin tried to hold his anger in check. "Please, turn the ship around."
"I've just told you that we will stop at Aure. There are medical facilities there as well as return transports. Now get off my bridge, Jedi. You tend to your problems and I'll tend to mine." The captain started to turn away, and Anakin drew in a deep breath.
"You don't seem to understand, Captain. You have an attempted murderer aboard this vessel; my master was poisoned! How do you think that news will play among your passengers?"
"Do you have any proof of such an attack, Jedi?" Taran asked calmly.
"Not yet, but I will. For Force's sake, Captain please return us to Coruscant."
Toran gave the young padawan the sort of withering gaze that made his junior crewmen scuttle away in fear.
"Do all Jedi have such trouble understanding the word 'no,' or is it only special ones like you?"
Anakin was not about to back down from the captain's gaze but rather returned it fully, his eyes darkening a bit with his frustrations.
"Do all service crew have such trouble with intelligence or is it only special ones like you?" Anakin fired back, coming to an end of his patience. He would not risk Master Obi-Wan's life on the likes of this stubborn, prejudiced halfwit. "I told you that you have a murderer on board. Now unless you want to be held responsible for the blood of a Jedi Knight…" Anakin let the threat hang in the air, one hand straying almost casually to pull aside his robe and rest lightly upon the hilt of his lightsaber.
Heads snapped up all around; crewmembers who had studiously been avoiding the confrontation now looked up to see what was going on. It was generally not expected of a Jedi to make such a threat; to hear one voiced could only be regarded seriously. All eyes were on their captain and this tall young Jedi in an instant.
"And what about your conscience, Jedi?" The liner captain asked coldly. "My blood on your hands. I thought your kind disdained such violence."
I've already killed once to avenge someone I cared for. Anakin thought but did not speak aloud. The Tuskens were nothing to him in that moment; he had simply taken his revenge for his mother on the entire camp. This arrogant, unkind transport captain would not be much different if Master Obi-Wan died. Fear leads to anger... Anakin's breath caught in his throat; for three weeks now he had been trying to bury that memory and the threat that it represented. With a great effort, he shoved aside his growing fury and gained some control. Still…there was nothing saying he couldn't take advantage of the moment his anger had created.
Ice-cold blue eyes bored into other man with an intensity that made the crewmembers rapidly duck back down to their tasks; this Jedi looked more volatile than their captain could and that was enough to hasten their attention elsewhere. However a second later heads popped back up again as the sudden hum of an ignited saber reached their ears. Their shock registered with Anakin as they took in the sight of the blue blade wavering dangerously beneath the chin of Jeric Taran.
"You had better hope to whatever gods you believe in that my master does not die before we reach Aure." Anakin held his position a moment longer, letting the captain weigh his situation before retracting the blade and striding from the command center.
He clipped the saber back to its place as he hastened back toward the compartment. It was a new saber, still somewhat unfamiliar feeling to his hand, constructed shortly after his release from the Healing Wing after Geonosis. It had been fashioned after his master's own weapon, blue-bladed like Master Obi-Wan's rather than green-bladed like Master Qui-Gon's had been. He recalled briefly the look of pleasure that had crossed Kenobi's face when the new weapon had been ignited for the first time in the sparring ring when Anakin had resumed lightsaber practice with one of his classmates.
The memory stabbed at him briefly, adding to the icy chill in his gut. Quickening his pace, he hurried to return to his master's side.
++++++
Varix was an uncomplicated world by most standards; not quite primitive but far from state-of-the-art. The first of the droid armies were already landing on the surface, the planetary defense systems having been rather easily overcome. As yet his master's clone troops had not arrived to stage the battle; things were proceeding at almost a leisurely sort of pace. Soon Varix would be firmly held beneath within his grasp and its resources made available to their efforts.
"We are in position to land the main force near the capital city of the northern continent."
Dooku nodded a little at the report, not bothering to look to see who delivered it.
"Continue your landing and strike the capital. Then we will be in a position to draw some attention from the Republic."
"Yes, Count. The landing will begin at once."
So it was done…they were committed and the war to build a new galaxy had begun.
++++++
Death…destruction…pain…suffering. The vision swirled all around him, and he scrunched his eyes tightly closed, as if he could shut it out although he knew he must listen, must watch, and must pay attention to it. The lives being destroyed before his very eyes still lived, still breathed but would not for long; the demise he foresaw for them was imminent.
The war that had raised its ugly head at Geonosis was now taking its first hungry bite. Taking a deep, saddened breath he listened still further, heard the screams of young children and the death cries of brave men, smelled the acrid smoke of burning buildings and tasted the sorrow of loss.
He concentrated still further, looking into the eyes and faces, seeking their origin, asking for their beginnings before they reached their endings. They could not tell him, the fields of blood would not reveal their name. He did not know what world upon which their slaughter was achieved.
The Force was silent even as it screamed the identity of the planet; he knew the name was being shouted to him but he could not hear it…could not see it.
Could not stop it.
Yoda opened his eyes and left the vision behind, knowing that the answer he sought, the place of the battle, was being withheld from him. Whether by the Force's own hand or the power of the Dark Side he was not sure. All he knew for certain was that the maelstrom was upon them and that, as ever, the Jedi would do what they could for the right and for truth.
The tattered edges of the Republic were rapidly unraveling.
The Force was silent.
++++++
Obi-Wan opened his eyes slowly, swallowing a little. He tried to raise his head, found that he was still dizzy, and laid back down.
"Master?" Anakin's voice, soft, nearby. "How are you feeling?" The youth came into view now, his expression clearly concerned. Almost as if in answer, Obi-Wan shivered suddenly, uncontrollably. Anakin knelt down beside the sleep couch and laid his hand on his master's forehead, wincing a little at the fever he felt. Whatever this was, it was not meant to kill quickly. Obi-Wan was very sick but so far had remained solidly in the world of the living. But for how long...? The question haunted the padawan's mind.
"Cold." Obi-Wan murmured, and Anakin nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly. Rising, he took an extra blanket from the other sleep couch and gently draped it over his master.
"Better?" He asked as he tucked the edges around the shivering Jedi. After a moment the shivering subsided a bit and Obi-Wan nodded a little. Anakin pushed aside the bit of damp ginger hair that had fallen into his master's face. "I tried to talk the captain into taking the ship back to Coruscant but he wouldn't hear of it. We're putting in at Aure IV; I'm sure we can get a transport back from there."
Obi-Wan blinked dully and nodded again. Anakin swallowed nervously. He wanted to find out who had done this to his master but he didn't dare leave Kenobi alone; the Jedi was in no condition to fight off any further attack and who knew what would happen if he started snooping around now. Whoever had poisoned Obi-Wan might just decide to come back and try to finish him off faster. Anakin exhaled slowly. He would not allow that to happen.
"How far?" Obi-Wan's voice brought Anakin's attention back to the moment and he looked at his master's pale face and feverishly bright eyes. "How far…to Aure?"
"Parsec. Or two. We're almost there now Master, it won't be long." Anakin reassured. Obi-Wan closed his eyes now and Anakin bit his lip. Hold on, Master.
He stayed beside Obi-Wan until the ill Jedi had once more drifted off into a light sleep. And that is how the rest of the journey to Aure IV went…Obi-Wan drowsing, Anakin trying to keep him as comfortable as possible while fighting to hold down his own anxieties, knowing the poison was working its way deeper into his master's system and there was precious little he could do about it.
Except get him back to Coruscant, to the healers.
And beg the Force for a miracle.