Chapter 29 - The Truth can set you free... or not

Part 2

The tension was as solid as durasteel. In the Healer's ward, the Force itself was often clotted with the despair of broken bodies and fractured souls; no matter how much Light poured into clearing through the contamination, there were always tendrils of dark pain that remained behind, waiting for the next victim.

It was no different now. Flowing in knots of smoky grief and red bitterness, the great energy field seemed to be warping around her Master, its detritus-filled currents swirling with outrage, fear and dread. Far down, past the black-crimson fury, past all the other dark emotions that were normally so alien to her Master, Atel could almost feel the shame. And that was the most disturbing of them all.

Master Jinn must have sensed the darkness as well. A brief worried glance toward Atel and then, turning his head to one side so that he could see Obi-Wan more clearly, with a voice both urgent and very concerned, Qui-Gon rasped out, "Obi-Wan, are you all right? Your Padawan has been telling me about your injuries." When he did not answer, when he kept looking at the ceiling and ignoring him, the Bendu said cautiously, "Obi-Wan?"

Her Master might as well have been carved from stone. Only the eyes staring upward and the movement of the blanket as he slowly twisted it in his hands showed that he was awake and listening.

Atel refused to allow it any longer; Qui-Gon did not deserve his anger or this treatment. With quick strides, she marched over to Obi-Wan's bed, and hands on hips, scowled down at him. She was ready for an argument; a wound must be drained before it can begin to heal, and if it took him to be angry with her to do it, then that's what would be.

"What do you think you are doing?" she said tartly. He drew in one startled breath, gazing at her for a moment in shock, and then turned away. She reached over, and with a fierce tug, pulled the fabric out of his grip. Her voice sharpened and her words were distinct and scathing. "Look at me."

But when the stubborn man continued to ignore her, she grabbed his face and turned it toward her. "I'm not going to stop until you tell me what you are doing."

He jerked back, wrenching out of her grasp and sent her a glare that would have killed lesser beings. "Protecting you." His black eyes flicked toward Qui-Gon's for a moment and then back to hers. "Protecting you both."

Blinking at the grim determination in his voice and dismayed that he would think he could protect anyone right now, she said, "What?"

"There is a guard standing outside the door, Atel." Drawn and pale, his face was cut into lines of pain and desperation. From where she stood, she could see that he was still trying to find his balance and losing; it was obvious in the clench of his jaw and the way his fingers were curling and uncurling against the sheets. The air crackled with emotion.

Bleakly, he reminded her, "I've just killed the Head of the Council. Don't be so naive as to think I will be allowed to leave the Jedi without some kind of punishment. Imprisonment is the best I can hope for although execution remains likely." She stared at him in horror but he just ignored her alarm, shrugging slightly. "Did you really think they would let me go, no matter how much I might wish it?"

"You were just defending yourself and Master Jinn. Surely they would know and understand this."

He gave a sharp dry laugh but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Atel, you little fool, that isn't how it works. Not any more. But you have done nothing wrong. And Sle'fey promised that Qui-Gon would go free." He grabbed onto her hand and murmured, low and fast, "They have holocams everywhere. I don't want to implicate you, either of you, in Tharten's murder. The less I say, the better."

She put her own hand over his, and smiled sadly down at him. "Obi-Wan, he's not here for you but to make sure no one enters or leaves this room without the consent of the Council."

The idea seemed to undo him, driving him again toward desperation. "So we are all prisoners then."

Before she could say anything else, he roughly pulled out of her grip, his hands fisting into taut sinew and bone. He shot a fierce glare at the transparasteel portal, the Council spire framed in the rich light of late afternoon. "How their promises fade away with the slightest excuse. They said Qui-Gon would be free to leave. Tharten's death must have cost them more than they expected and we are the casualties."

Atel sent a pleading look toward Qui-Gon. Her Master seemed to be plunging back into dark emotions, and she knew he would not be happy with the truth about the guard outside. But he needed to know. Hesitantly, she said, "I have been told by Councilor Phen to keep silent about Master Tharten. She threatened to have me confined to quarters or a cell if I discussed her death with anyone other than Master Jinn and you."

"Still playing games, all of them," he spat out. "What a fool I was to ever believe their lies."

Laying back down, Obi-Wan grunted softly as he jostled his injured shoulder, then closed his eyes against the warm light, hiding again from them both. Atel could see the effort it cost him not to rail against the Order; his hands were clawing against each other, his face sharply edged in frown and pain. Instead of letting go and trying to find peace, he sank inward, hoarding his anguish and his fury. She didn't know what to say that could ease his mind. She had never seen him look so distraught.

From out of the corner of her eye, Atel had seen that Qui-Gon had been listening to them both, appalled astonishment in his gaze. She had warned him, after all, but it took the reality of Obi-Wan's reactions for it to become apparent just how much her Master had been hurt.

"There is little we can do for the moment, Obi-Wan, but rest and heal." She could see that Qui-Gon was trying to calm him down, trying to ease her Master's pain and alleviate his feelings of betrayal and despair. With soft words, the Bendu said, "Focus on the now and the rest will take care of itself."

Obi-Wan shot him a glare of pure disbelief. "Yes, we have seen how well that works." Reaching up, he scraped across his face with one hand, pressing his fingertips into the deep frown lines as though to ease some pain there. Sounding defeated, he murmured, "At least you survived the attack."

Breathing relief as Obi-Wan's anger seemed to cool, Qui-Gon gestured toward Atel. "Your apprentice was able to stop the bleeding in time. I owe her my life."

"Yes, she can be inventive in a fight." It would have been a compliment except for the sound of contempt in his voice and the way he refused to look at her. The memory of his accusations were still a vibroshiv, cutting away at her spirit.

"Inventive, indeed." Qui-Gon's gaze was steady on hers and he nodded once in thanks.

Standing a little straighter, she sent the Bendu a hesitant smile back. But Obi-Wan merely grunted at the assessment, a poor agreement at best.

Qui-Gon let the rudeness pass. Wincing a little as he twisted around to look at Obi-Wan more clearly, he said, "But what of your own wound? How bad is it?"

"It is nothing." The caustic, clipped way he said the words, the flattened mouth and rigid frown - all spoke of a reluctance to answer Qui-Gon's question.

It was typical for her Master to downplay his injuries, at least in the past. He had become somewhat of a trial for the Healers. He would often argue with them to be allowed back to their quarters much sooner than the Healers would wish. It was a nod to his tenacity and negotiation skills that he often won.

But this was more than just modesty, she realized. He was trying to deny what had happened: to himself, to her, to his old Master. She could feel it in the Force, the shame flaring and then the anger.

Qui-Gon must have felt it as well. But he had known Obi-Wan much longer than she and knew how to get around his stubborn former Padawan. He said mildly, "Atel said that it was a saber thrust that...."

"It is nothing. I'm fine." The cold warning in Obi-Wan's voice chilled the air.

The Bendu was nothing if not stubborn, perhaps even more so than her Master. Atel stood there watching the two of them argue, one demanding an answer and the other refusing - two immovable objects colliding. It would have almost been amusing if it were not so serious.

Qui-Gon tried again. "She was giving her account of the fight but I would like to hear.... "

"I'm sure she told you everything you need to know." Obi-Wan sent Atel a glare that could have melted durasteel but she only looked back at him with mild eyes. She did not want to antagonize him any more than was necessary but he had to get past this. His blasted ideas of protection and honor would not help him here. He needed to let go. She would be patient enough to see it through. She had to be.

It was Qui-Gon whose patience had run dry. "Obi-Wan, stop being so evasive. This is beneath you."

"Beneath...." Turning abruptly toward them both, Obi-Wan let out a sharp hiss of pain, his face paling into bone white. But he ignored it. With grim determination, he pushed himself up and leaned on his good elbow to face Qui-Gon better. Eyes narrowed, his mouth flat and bitter, he said curtly, "I'm sure you want to know how I got skewered like a mott-toad. How my pitiful defenses were no better than some stupid crècheling's. How I should have been paying attention to the moment." Breathing out his disgust, he sounded almost ashamed, "How I made a mockery of your teachings."

"Obi-Wan, I don't believe that." Qui-Gon shook his head, reassurance in his voice.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan looked away, out into the afternoon light and murmured, "Believe what you want but the fact remains that I got hurt by allowing my emotions to interfere with my concentration." Another rough pained grunt and he fell back into the pillows. "Not exactly a shining example of an exemplary Knight but sufficient to act as bait for the trap."

"Bait? What do you mean?" Qui-Gon demanded. He and Atel exchanged worried glances. It sounded as if Obi-Wan was sinking back into despair again; his voice was stained with it.

A caustic, sour chuckle and then her Master said bitterly, "Bait as in using someone to draw another out. Waving said bait in front of the head of the Jedi Council so that she wouldn't see what Sle'fey and his lackeys were doing behind her back."

"Obi-Wan, what are you talking about?" Master Jinn's voice was a complex mixture of frustration and concern and fraying patience. He looked, too, as if he wanted to get out of bed and throttle her Master or hold him close as only a father could do, anything to get him out of this strange mixture of misery and anger.

But Obi-Wan ignored the question, plowing on with whatever remembrances were keeping him captive. "If nothing else, you have been cleared of all charges. Sle'fey said that he will even let you use a lightsaber again." Another bitter chuckle and he sent a thunderous frown toward the Council spire. His hands were balled again into fists and the cords on his neck stood out - white sinew against pale skin. He seemed furious, too, in the way he ground out his memories, slipping back and forth between sarcasm and grief. "How kind of him. A fitting reward for almost killing you, don't you think? Oh course, that assumes that he lets you leave. He is likely to be lying. After all, we do have a guard keeping us safe and secure. Mustn't have anyone escaping without his permission."

Obi-Wan wasn't the only one grieving. Master Jinn looked as if he's seen the child of his heart fall into madness and didn't know what to do next. But apparently, he had long experience with wayward apprentices.

Qui-Gon's face smoothed out into Jedi calm, some hard decision weighing into his skin. Drawing in a deep breath and then slowly letting it out again, distinctly and with the absolute command of a former Master of the Jedi Order, he said, "Obi-Wan, I want you to stop acting like a petulant child and tell me what happened."

Blinking in surprise, Obi-Wan looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. He lay there, breathing harshly, his dull-gray eyes shrunken and lost, gazing at his old Master. Then all at once, he collapsed inward, the one good shoulder sagging back and his face ashen. He lifted a hand and scrubbed across his mouth for a moment, choking back something. A word, a grimace, Atel wasn't sure. Then he nodded slowly in defeat.

His voice was lifeless. "There were several holocams in the cell. With direct feed to the Council chamber. I had a perfect spot, right in front of the Council, helpless to do anything while you got knifed by that rsshak slime." Swallowing hard, he said softly, "They were using you, Qui-Gon. As bait to draw Tharten out. Just as I was used and it worked very well."

When Obi-Wan said nothing else, Atel and Qui-Gon exchanged worried glances but Master Jinn would not allow the story to end there. They both knew that Obi-Wan had to get it out, all of it. Gently, the Bendu said, "There must be more to this."

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes dull-grey with remembered dread. "I tried to get to you in time to prevent it but they wouldn't let me go." A hoarse whisper that spoke of disbelief and despair - he was caught in that moment. "They wouldn't let me go. I begged them to. But I couldn't get past the guards and they wouldn't allow me to leave until they had what they wanted."

Qui-Gon looked as if he were going to be ill. Ashen from more than just blood-loss, he seemed distraught that he had been a catalyst in this. Atel, too, was horrified but she knew what her Master would say next. After all, she had not believed him at the time and it had only made everything worse in the end. She should have known he was telling the truth. She should have known.

"And then my helpful apprentice tried to stop me in the turbolift. I ended up using the stairs to reach you. Almost too late."

The Bendu sent her a fierce frown, but she turned away, looking down at Obi-Wan. More than anything, she wanted to gather him close and chase away the nightmares like he had done when she was little and afraid. She wanted to let him know how much she wished to turn back time, how much she regretted every moment since this damnable mission began. Her hand, hovering above his own, was aching to touch, to soothe his troubled spirit, to help him in this but she could not do it. There was too much between them, and in the end, she stood there forlorn and alone, hands clenched at her side, and said, "I thought... Master, I am so sorry. I had no idea."

It was as if she had not spoken at all. Obi-Wan was staring out the window, watching the afternoon turn into soft twilight. "I wonder if they enjoy it, playing with the lives of others. I had always thought that being a Jedi Knight was what I was meant to be but now...." A dry, harsh bark of a laugh, all revulsion in the loss of a lifetime of devotion, he said, "Foolish dreams. The reality is that I'm just a pawn in their filthy game and have been for years."

"Obi-Wan?" Softly said, Qui-Gon seemed to be trying to send him comfort, as she could not.

Obi-Wan grimaced, glancing toward his old Master and back into the cloudless darkening skies of Coruscant. "They used me as bait to draw out Tharten. Seems she was in league with a Sith Lord and Sle'fey wanted to know who it was. And they didn't care who they hurt to find it out."

They both could hear the heartbreak in his voice and the way he was staring out into the growing black. Qui-Gon murmured gently, "Tharten taunted me with it. Did you find out who it was?"

"At least the hag is dead and by my hand." A final stab of fury, swirling in obsidian-reds and smoke, sprayed across the Force and then it melted into grey shame.

His eyes blinking back grief, in a voice so low that it seemed more vibration than mere words, Obi-Wan rasped out, "I raped her mind. Tharten's mind. While she was dying, I shoved myself into hers and she fought me all the way. Her screaming from the pain and yet I kept going." His hand scrapped hard across his face, the fingertips coming away wet, and he frowned down at them, puzzled. "I kept going…."

Atel looked back to see Qui-Gon's shocked face. His blue eyes were glazed with uncertainty and a kind of horror. "Padawan?"

Quite ordinarily as if he were talking about someone else far from the Temple and a stranger, Obi-Wan said slowly, "No, not your Padawan. He would never have done such a thing. Padawan Kenobi was unsullied, clean." He was still looking at his hands with revulsion and a bewildered disbelief.

By now, Qui-Gon had regained his equilibrium and, with all the sure strength of a lifetime of training - Jedi or otherwise, he said sternly, "You must stop this. You are not thinking clearly."

Obi-Wan agreed, shrugging his good shoulder. He sounded normal, but within the Force, he was surrounded by shadow, despair and anger and a kind of self-loathing that went planet-core deep. "No, I'm not, not thinking clearly at all. I tortured her and I knew it and yet I would do it again."

Atel could hear the alarm in Master Jinn's voice. "Obi-Wan, you are hurt and still confused from last night. Give yourself some time to regain your balance."

"Balance? I doubt if I will ever find balance again." Pushing himself upright, his face white with anguish, he faced them both squarely. Looking from one to the other, catching their gazes with his own, his eyes faded into a dull grey but he seemed calmer, more in focus.

As Obi-Wan spoke again, his voice shook a bit and then cleared into certainty. "But at least I found out the truth of it all. No matter what games the Council may have played, what they planned or expected over the years, they can do nothing now. They have lost." His jaw clenched for a moment as he looked away, back up toward the now lighted spire of the Jedi Council. "The Sith have risen again and they have control of the Republic, over the Jedi, over everyone."

With appalled grief in his eyes, Obi-Wan said, "And Chancellor Palpatine is at the heart of it. Palpatine is the Sith Lord."