LIVING HISTORY
by ardavenport
= = = Part 21
Qui-Gon put his lightstick in the bin with an expression of distaste as sour as when he first sparred with it. Obi-Wan sympathized. Jedi trained to fight with all kinds of inanimate weapons, not just lightsabers. So, looked at that way, the saber props were not that different from Biranz fighting sticks or short staffs. But none of those 'pretended' to be lightsabers.
Obi-Wan's stick clattered in with the others. The blades were supposed to be retractable, but they sometimes got stuck in the extended position. Falgan's assistants were looking into the problem.
They had been working with the performers all morning. The Minigan audition would be after a rest and light exercise period after the midday meal. The Minigan costume had a dark gray tunic with dark gray belt and boots with pale pink obi, pants and tabbards, plus a pink and gray striped headband.
They joined the line of people waiting for food. The performer Qui-Gon stood behind glanced backward, his eyes going wide before he turned around again. Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of a smile on his Master's face. They got their food and went to the end of a long table. People at the other end looked up at Qui-Gon and then back down at their plates.
Obi-Wan looked about the crowded room and saw Yana and her friends sitting at another table. He kept looking until she noticed. For one second their eyes locked before she hastily looked down. Timoz peered over her shoulder, recognized him and hastily looked away again. Jutwa did not even turn around. At the other end of the table they sat at, the people there got up and moved to another overcrowded one. During morning practice, Yana and all the others had concentrated only their dancing, singing and recitation of lines. Yana had even avoided eye contact. Obi-Wan had assumed that it was because Director Tykon was yelling at everyone, especially Qui-Gon, who just ignored it. But now it looked like there might be some other cause.
"Master? I think we are being avoided."
Qui-Gon glanced about. "It would appear so." He took a sip of water. "Are you concerned about it?"
He was. He liked Yana and the other performers; they had explained a lot of things about the Play for him and he would rather share a meal with friends than not. "If we have given some offense, we should be aware of what it is."
"Does anyone look offended?" Qui-Gon took a bit of a crispy grain flat.
Obi-Wan glanced about the room again. Eyes darted away from him among anyone in the Minigan costume, but the technicians, Castle staff and stage crew went about their business without paying much attention to the Jedi; they chatted, carryied equipment, got multiple plates of food to take to others.
"No. But the performers all look fearful," he admitted.
"They are all fearful." He looked past Obi-Wan and raised a hand. A woman in Castle staff blue came to their table and bowed.
"Venerate Master Jedi."
"I wish to speak to Pecku. Could you please get him for me?"
"Yes, Venerate." She ran off across the Hall to the archway to the other parts of the Castle. Pecku always left with Tykon for meals. They were partway through their meals before Pecku finally came jogging up to their table; he wore a loose tan skirt tied at the waist and a long brown shirt this day.
"Venerate Jedi Master Qui-Gon. You needed to speak to me?"
"Yes." Qui-Gon gestured to the empty long table where they sat and the others, overcrowded with Jedi Minigans with a few costume technicians and the keyboardist who played through the practice sessions. "We seem to be alone. Has something changed?"
"Ah." Pecku leaned over their end of the table, his posture inviting them to lean closer to him. "We noticed some questionable associations yesterday and we spoke with our thesps about it last night." He patted the air with his hands as if smoothing down the offense. "The fault is purely ours. It is so rare to have offworld Venerates participating in a History Play that we did not pay proper attention to the customary protocols.
"While your status is not clearly defined, Venerate Jedi Apprentice Obi-Wan, and it is not forbidden, it is not customary for any Venerates to socialize with the Play thesps. But it is inappropriate for them to interact socially with any member of the Creative Committee," he almost apologized to Qui-Gon. "We were assuming that you would simply retire to the tower for your meals. But I understand that it is quite a hike up there."
"I understand," Qui-Gon replied with a nod toward Obi-Wan, "We will certainly comply. But," he gestured again toward the length of the empty table they sat at, "It might be more efficient if you provided us with a small, separate table to eat at."
Pecku lifted his head. "I see your point. I'll have one brought in right away." He left and very soon afterwards three Castle staff appeared, one with a small table and the other two carrying chairs. They placed them by the wall behind the base of the staircase leading up to the gallery. Without even a glance toward the Jedi, they left. Qui-Gon picked up his plate, utensils and cup first; Obi-Wan did the same and followed him. When they were seated again, Qui-Gon had his back to the room. Obi-Wan saw the excess people from the other long tables immediately migrate to the now empty one. Yana moved her plate and cup with the others and she saw him looking as she sat down. She grinned and pumped her fist up and down under the table. Obi-Wan gave her a half smile and made the same gesture by his knee so she could see it.
Qui-Gon smiled as he bit into a crispy grain flat.
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Standing among some taller bushes on the balcony garden in the late-evening twilight, Obi-Wan sniffed the air. "It's going to rain."
"Yes." Qui-Gon smiled, putting an arm around his apprentice's shoulders. They had finished eating and cleaning up after dinner. With the Minigan auditions done for the day, there would be only one more day of auditions, this one for all the minor parts of the Hiistory Play. After that would be the day of assigning the performers to their Play parts and then three days of rehersals before finally the performance. With so much time available, Qui-Gon saw an opportunity to add some mindfulness training to their mission. The tower apartment was an excellent setting for it. The Jedi Temple was strong with the Force, but its completely controlled, weatherless enclosures offered little variation.
"Now," he pointed Obi-Wan toward the outer railing, over a raised bed of ferns and flowering shrubs, the lights of the Castle and the town beyond it shining from below. "Feel this place and how it is connected to everything around us."
They both stood for long moments, eyes closed, the Force a pervasive warmth among the plants and echoed down through the distant jostling clusters of people shining thought the other parts of the Castle and town and reflecting from the forested hills. Obi-Wan opened his eyes first.
"Someone is coming."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes."
They walked around the curve of the walkway to the nearest door by Obi-Wan's sleeping area. The head of a young Castle staff member emerged from the floor and they faced her as the lift locked into place.
She bowed low, her hands clasped tightly before the front of her pale blue tunic. "Venerate Jedi, Custodian Tykon has sent me to inform you that the extra preparations you requestions for transport of the holy artifacts are ready for inspection."
Qui-Gon inclined his head back to her. She had shoulder length blond hair and nervous brown eyes. "Thank-you. I wish to do so now." He looked down at his apprentice. "Meditate on what we have discussed while I am gone."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon stepped forward to the lift. The young staff member was slight and shorter than Obi-Wan, and from her expression, she had not been expecting him to want to come back with her. She activated the lift and then averted her eyes while they shared the enforced closeness for the ride down. As soon as the lift stopped she hopped off and led him down the many spiraling steps of the tower. They descended to the gallery, then down to and across Tamwa Hall to the Mountain Wing where the Custodians maintained facilities archiving, re-creating period clothes, tools, repair and any other functions they needed for the upkeep of the entire Naardin Living History Lands. Going down a couple of levels, they finally arrived at a locked door. With only a slight quaver in her voice, the young staff member politely asked Qui-Gon to turn his back while she opened a door. Afterwards she ushered him into the workroom without going in herself. The door slid closed him.
Custodian Tykon and two others in lighter shades of blue huddled at an alcove at the opposide end of a long, low-ceilinged room of pristine white walls, glass-doored cabinets and silver fixtures. Qui-Gon scanned the sharp-angled and mirrored wall panels that seemed to triple the size of the windowless room. Bright lights shone down on long metal work tables. A few technicians in light blue tunics and pants darted glances toward him as they bent over their work. The place was an isolated anachronism of plastoid technology hidden in a Castle of ancient stone.
Parting with her comrades, Tykon bustled toward him with a dull gold metalloid box.
"Master Qui-Gon." She set the box on an empty end of a long table. "I have the transport container that you requested." She touched a corner and the sides of the box flipped outward revealing another gold metalloid box. She touched a corner of the second box and its side flipped open and a dull sliver box inside shot upward on an internal pedestal. One final touch opened the last box.
"As you can see," Tykon pointed at recessed portions of the black interior, "the inside is fitted to each artifact, the lightsaber, the holocron and the rest. It is triple sealed. The outer layers are zellite, completely impenetrable to sensors or blaster fire, the inner container is cry-carbon reinforced zellite." She held up a slim flat device, less than half the width of her hand. "This key will lock each container separately. But it cannot unlock them. It can only record the unlock codes. Once the relics are sealed, we will transmit the unlock codes, by a secure channel, to the Jedi Archives; they are already prepared to receive them. You will not be able to open it, as you requested. Only another key - - and we have sent the specifications to your Archives - - can open it."
Qui-Gon accepted the key from her. It had only three square buttons on it in a neat column and a function indicator at the top.
"The key is not activated yet. It will only be activated after the History Play when the relics are presented to you."
"Of course," Qui-Gon agreed, handing the device back to her. "However, I wish to test this container out. On the actual artifacts."
Tykon's expression darkened, her brows lowered, her mouth hardening into a severe frown. "They are in the Hall of Mysteries."
"Yes. I believe you can escort me there."
"We have exact measurement of all the relics. The interior of this box is specifically designed for them."
"I am sure it is. But I think it best that this be confirmed. I would not wish any unforeseen error to delay us any further than we already have been."
Tykon noisly sucked in air through her nose, her jowly jaw clenched. Qui-Gon calmly stood over her, waiting.
With a huff, she relented. "Then I will escort you."
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Sitting on a cushion on the floor, Obi-Wan inhaled the night air coming in through the open door. Thick with the scents of flowers, plants, soil and now a gentle rain that had encouraged him to go inside. Sitting on the cushion, he straightened his back, relaxing his shoulders. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Stray thoughts only clouded a Jedi's connection with the Force.
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Custodian Tykon's mouth seemed to be set into a permanent scowl. She held the tray of Darth Yarr's artifacts tightly against her wide body. The transport box sat open, on the floor as Qui-Gon floated each item into it, testing their fit as they nestled down into their respective niche. The holocron was last.
Qui-Gon guided it up into the air before him. Even if Tykon had not slapped his hand back from laying hand on any of the artifacts, he did not wish to touch the holocron. Though it remained lifeless, containing neither Dark nor Light, he still did not trust that it not to conceal some hidden and dangerous secrets.
Tykon started with a little gasp when the blue light shone faintly from within, growing brighter. Qui-Gon saw in his mind the rough and very empty interior of it. It felt old and swept clean long ago, leaving no trace of what it might have been, a story forgotten, or maybe never told.
He guided the holocron over and down to the box.
The blue light flared, bright and shimmering. He felt it on his face, brisk and cool, a window opened, letting in fresh clean air.
"Huh!"
He jerked his guiding hand back and the light winked out. The holocron fell with a muffled thump, landing precisely into its place in the box.
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The Force stretched out from the Castle, a pervasive haze inside and outside everything, stronger in some places, a little thinner in others, but always there. It clung to the thick foliage of the balcony garden that ringed the apartment, an aura of life. All things in balance, peaceful and alive.
Obi-Wan let his senses drift outward. Down toward the people below, the Castle, the grounds; there were pens of animals, small insects and night flyers in the air. He could feel them all connected to everything.
The haze thickened, collecting into a pillar. Obi-Wan did not react, his mind remaining still, part of the background of the Force that would not distort the new vision. The wisps of energy formed an outline of a person, a woman, dressed like Sebo, long tunic, loose pants, shawl around her neck and draped over her head. She looked a little younger then Sebo, dark shoulder-length straight hair, pale eyes, pointed chin and age lines beginning to show around around her eyes and nose.
She held a baby, wrapped in a coarse blanket. It was a girl.
She held it out to him, her face questioning.
Then she pulled her back to her breast, half turning away. She handed the baby to the extended hands of three women who took it and vanished. The woman turned back to him, folded her arms before her and bowed low before throwing her head back, arms out. Obi-Wan felt sad, as if he would never see the Jedi Temple again, everyone in it turned to dust and gone. He felt clean, but the Force was cold. Not Light or Dark, just cold. And it did not connect him to the world. It just blew through him, like a chill breeze rushing through a wide open canyon with nothing there to stop it.
The woman before him dissolved into the wind.
"Huh!" Obi-Wan started. The world, and his ordinary senses suddenly wiped out the vision like a light coming on. But it was dark outside and raining harder, the wind blowing some of it inside. There were only a few isolated islands of light in the apartment, the rest of it in black shadow. He climbed to his feet and closed the open door.
= = = End Part 21