The Book of Temple Ghosts Part VIII

The sweet smell of tuka flowers tickled Bant's senses. She buried her face in the multicolored buds. Somehow it made the walk easier.

Not that it was ever supposed to be easy.

Cradling the tuka flower bouquet in her arms on her walk through the healing center, her sometimes home away from home, took her down a quiet hall. One she had avoided through most of her healer training.

Two doors from the end of the hall, she stopped. From where she stood, the Coruscant skyline played across a small window at the end of the hall. Evening was rolling slowly across the great temple.

Another day gone.

For all it mattered, it might as well have been a thousand days gone.

There had been a strange silence in the temple for nearly two months. Since the revelation of the Sith's return. Since the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennium fell into a deep coma.

She turned to face back into the open door she stood in front off.

Again she buried her face in rainbow of colors gently held in her arms. Stretching slightly, the healer apprentice leaned forward and glanced into the room.

Casting out on the Force she further checked the small room without approaching it.

Naturally it would be empty. At this point she had come to expect the room to be empty. A part of her was glad there was no one there. No one she had to face. No one to exchange condolences with.

No one.

She had grown used to being the only one there. The only one who cared to show up at least once day, more if she could.

It was getting harder with every passing day, she admitted to herself.

She could not blame anyone for not coming as often as they should. Two months was a long time and Dirad had explained to her more times than she wanted to hear that it was unlikely Obi-Wan would ever wake from his coma, at least not after all that time.

Of course, the Master healer couldn't quite explain why her friend was in a coma in the first place.

Still, Bant knew she could not just avoid ever showing up again. Her friend deserved more than to be abandoned for dead when he was still clinging to life, no matter how fragile it had become.

Silently she pulled a data pad from the little box next to the door. She scanned the list of visitors. It recorded her early morning visit. The visit at her lunch break and it would record her visit now. She saw Garen's name listed not long after she had left at lunch. A little smile. At least he had kept his promise to visit before he left for the Modell sector. Reeft had stopped two days earlier before leaving on a mission as well. She was happy to see Master Yoda's daily sojourn. At least the little green master was constant. There were other names, but the distance between visits was becoming farther and fewer. Soon it would just be her and Yoda.

She scanned for Qui-Gon's name and found it late one evening three days ago. It had been two days since his visit before that.

Bant closed her eyes and stilled her mind. She had just seen the Jedi master with the boy he had brought from Tatooine in the meditating gardens. He was trying to teach the boy to center himself. Anakin, she thought his name was, was twitching and fidgeting like he had some sort of nervous condition. She had never seen a nine year old wiggle so much.

Hadn't the Council refused to allow him to be trained?

Roughly dropping the data pad back into the box she slowly entered the room. It looked like any other medical bay in the healing center. It was small and secluded. A room designed not to support many visitors because they knew none would come. Not this far down the hall.

It was a lost cause after this point.

"I brought flowers to brighten up the room," Bant said with false joy. "It's rather dull," she whispered as the sadness crept back into her voice. Her line of vision remained completely focused on the little table next to the sleep couch. A plain, clear vase sat back against the wall. She made sure to fill it with fresh flowers as often as possible. "Well, I'm not exactly off the clock yet," she began as she pulled the chair a little closer to the head of the bed. "But things were slow, so Master Dirad said I could come back and visit." Gently she adjusted the blankets that covered the still form. It was getting harder every day to look at the peaceful expression of sleep on Obi-Wan's face.

An uncontrolled sense of panic made her want to grab his shoulders and shake him until he woke up. Carefully she reached up to brush her salmon colored fingers through the dull ginger hair. The spikes had grown out and feathered crudely back. "Wake up," she demanded softly. "Wake up. You've slept enough."

Biting back a sob she sank to the chair that was always next to the bed.

Another part of her, one she hated, wished his body would just give out. At least then he could rejoin the Force and be free.

Bant mentally chastised herself for even allowing that terrible thought to enter her mind. He would get better, she just had to be patient.

A gasp escaped her as she froze.

Cloudy, pale blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Obi-Wan?"

The empty stare remained fixated on the ceiling as Bant held her breath waiting for a response she feared would never come.

"Obi-Wan?" she whispered as she gently brushed her fingers though the thick ginger hair. Then she lightly pressed her hand against the cool forehead. Ever so carefully she reached out through the Force. Her lips trembled as she fought back tears. Brushing her fingers over Obi-Wan's open eyes she closed them. Opening her mouth to say something she could only manage sobs as she fell against the edge of the sleep couch.

She didn't care about the sobs. There were never enough.

"Where am I?"

Immediately Bant sat up. Through tear rimmed vision she could see the pale blue eyes staring at the ceiling. Blinking her eyes clear she leaned forward.

"Where am I?"

A smile danced on her lips as she reached out and desperately hugged her friend. "You're in the temple," she cried out happily.

"No," Obi-Wan groaned as his eyes slowly focused on the grinning healer wrapped around his chest. "I was on Naboo."

Bant sat up and happily brushed her fingers through his hair. Those blue eyes, those blue eyes were all she could focus on. A part of her never thought she would see them again. Even in her joy, she was aware of how slowly his eyes focused on her. "I've got to get Master Dirad," she told him as she started to pull away.

Instantly her arm was caught in a weak grip. "How did I get here?" Obi-Wan whispered as he tried to sit up. "I was on Naboo."

"They brought you back to the temple." Bant gently pressed his head back to the pillow. "Take it easy."

"Where am I?"

"You're in the temple," she repeated as she patted his shoulder. "You've been in a coma." The healer in her took over as she pressed her hand to his cool forehead. "You really hurt yourself," she whispered softly.

"The temple was destroyed," Obi-Wan mumbled not really paying Bant much attention. Then slowly, he tilted his head and for a time just studied her, a deep look of sadness washed over his pale feature. "Coma?"

"For almost two months. Since the battle of Naboo."

He just shook his head and closed his eyes. "That's wrong."

Bant tried to pull free to find Dirad but Obi-Wan's grip of her arm tightened slightly. She could sense panic.

"My master's dead."

It took many calming techniques to keep her tone steady. "No he's not."

Confusion wrapped itself around his eyes as he turned slightly to face the wall. "The Sith killed him."

"You saved him," the healer apprentice said softly as she reached out and tugged on his padawan braid to make him face her. "You just woke up from a coma. You're senses are a little dull. That's all." She gave him a warm smile. "Master Jinn is very much alive. Let me go get Dirad and they'll call for him." Anger danced at the edge of her senses. Qui-Gon should already have known Obi-Wan was awake.

"I saw him die," Obi-Wan mumbled before turning back to stare at the ceiling. "I was there."

"You saved him. Don't you remember?"

"No," Obi-Wan said firmly. "He died. I saw the funeral pyre." Disused muscles moved sluggishly as he tried to draw himself up into a fetal position. The effort took more strength than he had. "Told me to train Anakin," he mumbled half to himself. "Yoda didn't agree even though the Council did."

Bant frowned. "I'm pretty sure Master Jinn is going to train that boy. I think he really wants too." He already was, with the Council's approval or not.

Obi-Wan struggled again but failed to draw himself up into a fetal position. He tugged aimlessly at the blankets as if he were cold. "I failed him," came a soft murmur.

"Never," Bant said firmly as she got up and retrieved another blanket.

"I lost Anakin."

"You didn't lose him." She wrapped the heavy blanket around her friend's shivering form. "He's running around the temple annoying everyone." She quietly studied the dull eyes that stared blankly out at her.

"No," Obi-Wan groaned softly as he buried his face against the fuzzy blanket.

"You were dreaming," Bant told him as she gently rubbed his back. "There's been lots of reports of dreams from people who woke up from comas. You're no different. It was just your brain trying to deal with the fact you really hurt yourself." A tinge of anger reflected in her voice, "You almost killed yourself."

"There was a desert."

"No, Obi-Wan," she whispered. "You've been in the temple since three days after the battle with the Sith." Bant frowned, but then searched the blankets for a cool hand. There was no strength in a grip, even as she gently squeezed his callused hand. "You're just remembering being stranded on Tatooine."

"No," came the standard reply.

"You were dreaming."

Confusion remained. "Dreaming?"

Bant smiled gently. "Yes."

"But it felt so real. I was all alone."

"You were never alone."

"Dreaming," Obi-Wan whispered dully. His empty gaze met his friend's. He gave her a weak smile and patted the white bedding gently. "Temple," he said as if reassuring himself.

"You're safe at home."

"The temple is safe."

"Yes." Bant squeezed his hand gently. "Everyone who cares for you is here."

A deep frown crossed Obi-Wan's tired features. "The temple's gone, the Jedi are gone." There was a child-like quality in how he expressed those words, the guilt heavy in him for a crime he had not committed.

Bant chose not to say anything. She could sense the distress in her friend. The disorientation he was suffering. It was common, at least that was what her studies had told her. She closed her eyes for a moment and centered, she couldn't leave Obi-Wan, not even to run down the hall and tell someone. Casting out on the Force she found the Master Healer. "Master Dirad's coming," she told him. "You're going to be all right."

_____________________

The Book of Finding Grace

A swift hit of a blaster rifle to his lower back sent Obi-Wan to his knees.

"Get up," a coarse voice growled.

Obi-Wan was violently yanked to his feet and shoved forward. Heavy chains dug into his bound wrists before him. His cut up palms from the speeder bike's jagged underbelly were incredibly painful but did nothing to dull the sharp pain in his side. It hurt to breathe at least what he could through strangled gasps. He had the urge to reach up and check the bruising flesh around his throat. At the moment, he was more concerned about putting one foot in front of each other. The trek over the rough terrain made him stumble and was made more difficult by the blaster muzzles jammed into his back. Stifling a cry as he glanced around through blood blurred eyes at the three large soldiers that held him prisoner.

His vision refused to clear even as he focused on the sergeant who walked a few paces ahead of the little procession. The sergeant crudely held Obi-Wan's lightsaber, studying it as he twisted the silver and black cylinder in his hands.

Carefully Obi-Wan reached out with his bound hands to call the weapon to him.

Nothing happened.

With a sense of surprise he realized that the tight band of a Force dampening collar was fitted around his neck. That and coupled with the bruises and swelling caused by his little encounter with Makwest was what was choking him.

A loud, rude laugh echoed from his edge of his vision.

"Thought you were going to escape, Jedi scum?" The large soldier to his right slammed the butt of his blaster rifle into his side again sending him tumbling to his knees. Immediately he was ripped off the grassy ground by ungentle hands that violently shoved him forward.

Obi-Wan tasted blood.

"You will die for your crimes," another soldier spat.

The Jedi knight was dragged over the rough terrain toward a small clearing. Speeder bikes zipped past, patrolling the area. Foot solders guarded the edges of the clearing. In the center, under the bright sunlight stood a man with a machete, violently hacking off branches and quickly smoothing a young tree into a long pole.

The side of the young man's face was bruised black, he looked up and met Obi-Wan's steady gaze.

The knight stared dazedly at the clearing. A fist crashed between his shoulder blades sending him to the ground.

"Get up!"

Obi-Wan remained slumped where he fell.

"Get up!" a soldier prodded with his rifle butt.

Still the knight remained motionless. His wet clothing was gripped in the soldier's hands and he was dragged off the ground and carried over to where the man working on the long pole stood. They let go and he fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Captain Soloban," the sergeant saluted then handed the lightsaber off to the young man preparing the pole.

Obi-Wan stared up at Soloban.

The young man had a deep purple bruise covering most of the left side of his face. He tightened his grip around the lightsaber hilt as he slowly approached the kneeling knight. Soloban's expression hardened when he reached out and fingered the damp, torn material of the of the executioner's tunic that Obi-Wan wore. "I just had that made special for putting Jedi to death." The captain studied the silver cylinder in his hand. "You should have killed me when you had the chance." With the lightsaber hilt, Soloban slammed the knight in the side of the head.

The force of the impact sent Obi-Wan crashing to the thick green grass. After a moment he pushed himself into a kneeling position. "Does that make you feel better?" he taunted with a hoarse voice as he spit blood into the thick, grassy carpet beneath him.

Ignoring the question, Soloban said, "You have been condemned to immediate death."

Obi-Wan straightened. His vision was filled with flashing stars. "Don't I get a trial?"

Laughter echoed all around him as Soloban smashed him again with the lightsaber hilt.

The knight hit the lawn again. His head was thundering and the spots flashed brightly blotting out Soloban's cruel stare. Slowly pushing himself back up into a meditative stance, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. His brain had gone to mush and he was struggling to find his calm center. The pain made it elusive.

It can't possibly hurt any worse, the knight thought. The sharp pain in his side with every breath told him that even if he could get away from the soldiers, he unlikely would live long enough to get off the planet.

His mind finally stilled, blocking out the soldiers around him who waited for his death to entertain them.

The transport was gone.

Qui-Gon and Anakin were gone.

At least his final mission wasn't a complete failure.

This was how it was supposed to be.

A hand grabbed the ginger braid and ripped Obi-Wan backward violently yanking him out of the fought for meditative state. The knight struggled slightly but boot kicks took his legs out from underneath him, dropping him again to his knees on the lush grassy carpet.

"Ready to die, this one is!" One of the soldiers bellowed.

Obi-Wan's head was jerked back by the braid. The bright white light of the Tarsian sun shined down on him or maybe he was still seeing stars. The pain still reverberated through his head.

Slowly Obi-Wan straightened into a meditative stance. Pulling his braided hair free of the tight grip he tilted his head down again. Beyond the whine of the speeder bikes there was the gentle rustling of leaves. The joyful songs of an avian population played at the edge of his hearing. Even the burble of the murky stream could still be heard clearly.

It reminded him of the meditation gardens.

There is no death, there is only the Force.

The words flowed freely through his muddled mind as part of a mantra he had known all his life.

In the back of his thoughts, he knew wasn't as ready as he thought he would be when the time came.

He was scared.

Soloban gripped the blood smeared hilt of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. He walked slowly around to the side of the knight. "For the murder of three men, the injury of a dozen more of the Tarsian Guard and the attack on me you are sentenced to death by decapitation. Your head will be placed on the pike and displayed for all to see as a warning to anyone who would try to go against the General."

The strangest thoughts popped into Obi-Wan's head. He suddenly wondered what funeral rights the Tarsian's had. Did they bury their dead? Burn them? What would they do to a condemned criminal?

He would be dead and it wouldn't matter.

So why was the thought worrying him?

Were they going to just leave his headless body to rot in the clearing?

The sergeant grabbed hold of the braid and jerked Obi-Wan's head back and studied the knight's bloodied face. "The other one who negotiated the treaty against your father," he said to the Captain. "The apprentice."

"Not anymore," Obi-Wan said calmly as the sergeant dropped a heavily booted foot between his bruised shoulder blades, forcing the knight to bow a final time.

Breathing slowly he drew strength from the knowledge that soon he would be one with the Force.

It would all be over soon.

No more pain.

There is no death, there is only the Force.

He accepted the grace that the mantra provided. It offered him the strength to take his impending death calmly. He didn't know which pained breath would be his last, but he would saver each one.

Soloban clumsily activated the lightsaber. It hummed as he twisted the weapon around in his grip. "How about this," he laughed, "I'm taking a Jedi's head with his own weapon." He drew the glowing blue blade back over his head.

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath.

A cool breeze ruffled the distant leaves.

So like the meditating garden.

A moment of hesitation then Captain Soloban swiftly brought the saber down with deadly intent.