A month later, in the bowels of Courascant:
~Lux's POV~
"Up, men, time to get a move on! Come on, up!" Lamar Rai-as Lux had taken his counterfeit name to be- was jolted out of peaceful slumber and into cruel awareness by the brusque and earsplitting voice of General Damara. His eyes snapped open at once.
Groggily he pulled the thin quilt over his head, shivering with the morning chill, which crept in through the metal walls and lingered over them all like a curse.
"Rai!" Of course he would. Lux could swear that his entire life now consisted of being yelled at. Granted, on the battlefields of the Rebel Alliance, there, too, was much yelling, but when you were firing at the enemy and they back at you, and with the constant hum of a Jedi lightsaber near your face, the last thing you thought of was the noise.
Now, it was purely impossible to miss it, and Lux dearly wished he could. He sighed loudly and then shuddered violently as the covers-which Lux was sure had been atop him a second ago- were uncouthly snatched off. At least droids had some politeness about them, and the clones genial regard and everyone else absolute respect.
"Rise and shine, boys!" Damara shouted forcefully, his harsh voice ringing through the dim building. Groans and mumbles spread about begrudgingly. Lux sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
Not even the academy that The Separatists had sent him too had been this harsh. "Ah, come on, sir!" A still sleepy voice coughed. "It's not even dawn yet!" This reply was rewarded with a sharp wallop on the knee with the general's esteemed walking staff, appropriately nicknamed Whacker.
"Who else wants a taste of Whacker?" Well, Lux was tired, not suicidal. Scrambling out from his bed, he stood, watching the giant Trandoshan warily. The red and black scales of the male lizard flared then died down as he growled, marching down the long row of beds with large, scaled hands folded behind his back.
Predatory, slated eyes flicked back and forth. . "Crime does not follow your clock, maggot," The general stated coldly.
Lux looked over at his friends, standing next to their own bunks beside his. Both walls of their extensive sleeping structure, Homestead fx-6 were lined with identical, dowdy and gray beds, with dozens of trainees for the job of patrol men of the Courascant underground, like Lux. The overhead lights flashed on, emitting more cries of protest as the light awakened more people.
Maxell and Cent were both older than he was. The former by one year, and the latter by two. Cent was a humanoid with stark red skin and a long, whipping tail that had sprouted out of his buttocks. Maxell was a Nautolan, with likewise flickering head tails, twelve in all, and pale brown skin.
"I want all troops awake and in the mess in ten minutes! Now MOVE!" The booming voice startled everyone, even Lux. He sighed and moved towards the crowd of trainees, grumbling, as they headed to the toilets and freshers. "This is going to be a long day," Maxell sighed, as he jogged beside Lux. General Damara sauntered out, on his way to yell and degrade the other cadets.
Long day indeed, Lux thought, as he shook his head. Blast, he had been able to keep up with Jedi, and yet this training camp was a challenge. He wondered what Ahsoka would have to say about it.
"Wonder what insidious trap the general has for us in the mess," Cent added, stretching his long limbs. "What?" Lux teased. "You think he'll shoot us all on sight once we arrive?" he asked. "Wouldn't put it past the old biter, and his stupid stick," Maxell mumbled dejectedly.
Lux had to nod in agreement. "He's only having a bad day," he offered, remembering Luke and his consideration. Cent chuckled lightly. "Your sense of humor passes all bounds, Lamar," he said.
Lux shrugged, as they entered the freshers. "Eh, you get used to it," with a family like mine.
~Obi-wan's POV~
He hated being blind. There were not many things that Obi-wan wanted in life, A Jedi was trained against worldly desires, but Obi-wan did want his eyes back.
He wanted to see color and texture, depth and distance. He wanted to know that even if he could not sense it, he could see it. That he was not vulnerable. Yet, that was not the case.
Despite this, he was not a cripple. And he was not an idiot.
As much as Obi-wan utterly despised politics and the long process of business marketing, he had wonderful ideas for the expansion of his new work force. Feverishly, his fingers worked at copying down his new ideas unto his computer, which screen lay before him. Truthfully, Obi-wan could not see a single thing of what he was typing.
This fact was not the most important, though. What was important was that he had the entire plan already memorized. He would just need something to show his new council. They could not memorize every tiny detail if he just spoke it, no, most beings needed…
My new committee.
Obi-wan chuckled mirthlessly and let his fingers go slack on the keys. The unrelenting drumming was lost to the air. He leaned back in his chair, and glanced around at his personal office again, at the top-most tower in the miles long building.
Nava had described the look of it to him, since he could not see for himself, and in reality, Obi-wan still could not fully believe all this-everything here-was his. All his.
He was also unsure whether he liked that or not.
In his life, he had been given few things that had been truly his. And now…Now the planet Courascant was his to own, a whole corporation with committees, councils, workers and people who all followed him and his every word.
What he did could destroy thousands of lives or create hundreds of better opportunities. He had led armies before, but never this. This was a whole different sort of army. One without blasters, Cody, clones, droids or Jedi.
You aren't Obi-wan Kenobi anymore, he thought, almost sadly. He knew that inside, he still was. He was Obi-wan, the perfect Jedi, The Negotiator, the flawless gentlemen; and the man the galaxy had always loved.
But outside? Outside he was Osiris Aethra, owner of one of the largest companies on planet, businessperson, and entrepreneur. That fact, if nothing else, scared the daylights out of him; and suddenly Obi-wan felt completely alone for the first time in a long while.
Breaking him out of his thoughts was the small chime on his door. He perked up, sensing two bodies outside of his door. Though he had to hide his own force signature, and evidently not use it at all, he could still recognize the familiar force signature of Anda, his personal supervisor.
"Come in, Anda," he called, straightening in his seat. On cue, the young woman, about the age of Ahsoka, waltzed in cheerily. "Good afternoon, Mr. Aethra," she chirped. Obi-wan smiled, always so cheerful, that girl.
"Hello," he greeted merely. She walked over and set down his cup of tea. "Your tea, sir," she presented grandly. Obi-wan nodded his thanks and listened for the sound of the cup being set down on the table before him. His hand moved in that general direction and found it without incident.
"And Mr. Aethra, you have a guest," he raised his eyebrows as he put the cup to his lips, sipping. He scowled, wondering if he had booked any appointments for the moment. After a quick roundabout of his memory, he concluded that he had done no such thing. "Really?" he asked.
Anda nodded. "Yes, sir. He doesn't have an appointment, but …" She trailed off, torn between her last saying. "And?" Obi-wan prompted gently. "Well, sir, I would meet him if I were you, not that it's my place to tell," she explained quickly.
Obi-wan cocked an eyebrow and regarded the feminine blob of white before him.
"Why?" he inquired, curious. "Who is this person?" he asked. "His name is Tyrion Alwari, mayhap you've heard of him?" Obi-wan blinked, surprised. Heard of him? Who hadn't? Tyrion Alwari was the richest man on Courascant, and owned the largest business, surpassing his own.
What did the man want with him?
Several different explanations ran through Obi-wan's mind at once. He waved his hand. "Marvelous. Let him in," he said calmly. Anda nodded and turned on her heel without another word. Obi-wan inhaled, wishing suddenly that he had paid more heed to Alwari's name. He did not know much of the wealthy billionaire besides the common rumor.
He hated being unprepared.
"Mr. Alwari," he welcomed, standing, as another blob came in. Obi-wan's mind made a quick examination of him. He appeared to be Obi-wan's height, a burly, stout man with a head of gelled hair which had no color to Obi-wan. He was humanoid, obviously.
His force signature did not flare with trickery, but without the means of which to use the force, Obi-wan could not dig deeper into this. He cursed the Sith, Sidious and Bruck to the deepest ditches of the universe.
"Mr. Aethra," A smooth and low voice said as the businessman stopped before his desk, grabbing Obi-wan's hand to shake genially. Obi-wan sensed the movement of the man's eyes, flicking back and forth to notice the humble design of Obi-wan's office.
"It is good to meet you, sir," he said. Obi-wan fulfilled that this man was no fool. "The pleasure is mine, of course. Please, have a seat. I shall send Anda for refreshments," he nodded towards the blob in the doorway. Anda nodded back and vanished, closing the door behind her.
Tyrion Alwari sat in the chair opposite to Obi-wan's. Sitting himself, Obi-wan leaned forward, tapping his fingers together casually. "What may I do for you, Mr. Alwari?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"A man of curt words, fabulous. Well, to tell you the absolute truth, Mr. Aethra, I came here to deduce whether I could flatter you into selling me this company. Now that I've arrived, however, I can see that you aren't one of those young, avaricious simpletons who I can manipulate easily," he explained, as if speaking of the weather.
Lesson one: everyone thinks I'm an idiot. Obi-wan, despite the…Brutal discourteousness of this remark, was interested in this man. "I'm glad you deduced this so quickly. It will make our conversation smoother," he observed, lightly.
"So, since I'm not a young, greedy idiot, what do you presume to do now?" He asked. His opponent leaned back in his seat, and folded one leg nonchalantly over the other. "Tell me, Mr. Aethra, have you ever read the stories of Ta-doa Ar?" he asked. Obi-wan showed none of his inner confusion.
"Yes, of course," he answered. "Really? Where did you find it? I have done extensive research and found it is only available in some places," force, this man was clever.
Obi-wan had read the stories of course, at age sixteen, and like Tyrion said, they were rare copies. Only five existed in the entire galaxy. The one he had read had been in the Jedi temple.
He's trying to figure out where I come from.
But why? What could that information do for Alwari? Obi-wan decided to stall. "Are you familiar with the great Library of Maia?" He inquired, in counter attack. This sort of verbal sparring was something he usually could not do with most people. Even Nava would not have thought of that, neither Padme.
The thrill of battle filled him with excitement.
"The Great library of Maia?" Alwari repeated, apparently surprised. Obi-wan could sense his face being studied. He remained emotionless. He had Alwari on his guard now.
"No, I have not," of course he had not, because it was a secret, underground library that Obi-wan had stumbled upon with Qui-gon when he was sixteen. It was on a planet so far out in the outer rim that most people did not even know the planet existed.
"You have not? A pity. It's such a beautiful place," that was true, at least. "Anyhow, that's where I found a sixth copy of the stories of Ta-doa Ar," he explained.
"A sixth?" Now he was under deep scrutiny. "But, Mr. Aethra, if you found a sixth, why not bring it back?" He asked. Obi-wan's lie was already fabricated. "The natives, you see," he explained, woefully.
"It is on a planet in the outer rim, surely you know what sort of raucous barbarians live out there?" Anakin, forgive me, but somehow you come to mind.
"Anyway, the exact definition of barbarians does not actually mean completely brainless. The people of this planet had built up a giant library, and guarded its secrets with their lives. I was allowed to go in for the pure reason that I had a great collection of works myself that they desperately wanted. And curious man that I am, struck a deal with the natives. I went in to read, they got my books. Quite a nice trade, don't you think? Knowledge for knowledge?" He was on a roll now. He was almost proud of himself for his eloquent lie.
Alwari did not seem impressed. "I see. So, you managed to read the entire thing?" At Obi-wan's nod, he went on. "Hmm, then what opinions might you have on chapter twenty-eight, paragraph ten?" He wondered.
Trying to test my political ties, my friend? Oh, you are a worthy opponent. Obi-wan was enticed to laugh at the attempt.
"Oh, about the dictatorship? Funny you should ask, sir, because it brings to mind my current situation," that ploy worked. Alwari's fingers came together in his lap, thoughtfully.
"Do tell," he lured. "Yes, well, if you will recall, the great nation of the Scargs was in danger of failing economically, and the heroine was trying his best to stop such a happening, and in the end became all powerful corrupt master himself," Alwari nodded.
"So what is it that separates us from the dictators, hmm? It is pure nature to want control of our lives and futures, and to control our own lives, we must ultimately control the happenings around us. So, places, people, etc…And isn't that a dictatorship in itself? Dictating what happens to us and the people around us so that our futures end up as we wish it?" he asked.
This bit of deep thinking caught the politician off guard. "You're saying we're all dictators," he summed up. Obi-wan nodded. "In our own way," he agreed. "After all, what would you do to make sure your company stays intact? That your life stays its smooth course? You came here to try and cheat me out of what is mine, and had I been a lesser man, you would have succeeded. Isn't that a bit of evil reckoning? The evilness we accuse others of?"
Force, he really should not have been able to ponder all this. He was going to induce self-madness with this line of complicated thinking. It struck Alwari dumb, though.
"It is survival," he pointed out, a bit uncertainly. "True," Obi-wan agreed again. "And is your survival any more important than mine? I'm sure our current Emperor values the thought of surviving as well. Yet how many is he willing to kill to live? Politics are all about the best and better. But who we to choose who is best and better? That is the decision of a dictator, to try and determine these things. Now, life comes with this contradiction, and sometime you've just got to say that your survival is more important, but when it becomes your life to survive, then why are you any different than any despot?" He asked.
Force, Obi-wan, don't totally annihilate the poor man, Qui-gon whispered into his ear, a tad worriedly. Quiet, Master, I'm making friends, he thought back.
Alwari, despite his defeat in this battle of words, laughed uproariously. "Brilliant, sir! Mr. Aethra, I have the pleasure of saying I have no clue what in the blazes you were talking about!" He chuckled. Obi-wan smiled.
"Most people find they don't," he confessed. Alwari only laughed again. "Bravo, man! It's been years since I had a suitable companion with which to banter words with and actually have an equal chance at it! Blast, I lost track of our conversation long ago. I don't know a thing about you," he seemed delighted by this. Obi-wan found he was actually very delighted himself.
"You are a worthy opponent," he said. "I certainly hope so. We'll be great friends indeed," Obi-wan chuckled. "I concur. Would you like to continue this sport of words? First man to get confused loses," he dared, as eager as a small child who has finally found a friend who loves the same odd entities as himself. "By all means, you begin."
So, Obi-wan found a new friend.
Obi-wan and his new friend will have plenty of conversations like this in the future. Also, though it won't be prominent, I really do wish to show how his blindness hinders him in these certain aspects.
~Queen Yoda
