Hypothermia
In a typical dive bar of the lower levels of Coruscant, a short, cloaked figure hesitated briefly in the doorway, before ducking inside. He scurried over to a table in one corner, where three others waited for him. The tallest, a large, black-and-grey furred Wookie, bared her fangs and uttered a low growl.
"Greetings to you, too, Kurrdyshik," the figure lowered his hood as he took his seat, revealing the almond-shaped brown eyes and pale, white-whiskered face of a young male Caphex.
"Well, Tahit – do you have it?" a Twi'lek woman leaned forwards; grinning in anticipation.
She had green-tinted skin and her face was a map of old wounds; blind in one eye with a large scar transecting the milky-white orb, half of one of her head-tails was missing, and she had several gold teeth.
"I have it, Uumlah..." the Caphex, Tahit, nodded to her, "and I believe it is the genuine article."
"Well, then, let's see it," the fourth member of the group was a Rodian male by the name of Neebo, and he impatiently tapped a finger on the table top, "I've invested a lot of credits in this crazy scheme of yours, Tahit."
Tahit wordlessly reached into his robe, withdrawing a small, black box. Kurrdyshik let out a low murmur, as the other two leaned forward in obvious interest. Tahit placed the box on the table; four heads bowed over it, and he slowly opened the box, revealing the contents to their curious eyes.
"Huh," grunted Neebo, "is that it? I spent over a thousand credits on this!"
"It was money well spent, Neebo," the young Caphex replied, in a sibilant purr, as he removed the small, black, wand-shaped device, "this is the creation of Darth Locustis, a Sith Lord known as the Jedi Slayer. He killed no less than a hundred Jedi with the help of this device."
"Well, what is it, and what does it do?" Uumlah reached out to touch the device, but Tahit snatched it back, quickly, ignoring her provocative pout.
"It was known only as 'the Sabre Slayer'," Tahit replied, softly, "I have discovered that it has the power to shatter the kyber crystal that lies at the heart of a Jedi's lightsabre, rendering their weapons useless."
"Very impressive," Neebo sounded anything but impressed, "but when you asked me to fund this little endeavour, you told me you'd make me rich in kyber crystals – not go around destroying them. I'm losing patience, Tahit. And when I get impatient, Kurrdyshik gets to start ripping off limbs."
The Wookie gave a growl of agreement.
"We only need to destroy one crystal," Tahit blinked slowly, curling his fingers around the Sabre Slayer; "we find and lure one Jedi; we destroy their lightsabre and plant a tracking device on them, before allowing them to escape. They will lead us straight to their secret stash of crystals as they go to repair their precious plasma sword. We can follow, and loot as many kyber crystals as we can carry."
"And how do you plan to lure a Jedi?" sneered Neebo, "Walk into the Temple and ask nicely if you can borrow one?"
"We will simply wait near the Temple," the Caphex blinked slowly, preening his whiskers, "sooner or later, a lone Jedi will venture out, and that will be our opportunity to follow them to a quiet location. A simple attempted mugging should suffice as cover... the Jedi will not know what hit them."
Neebo considered this for a moment, and then made a noise of agreement; "Fine... the three of you will go. Report back to me when you have the crystals, and you will be richly rewarded."
"You will not regret this, sir," Tahit flashed his white teeth in a wide, feral smile, "now... we have an ambush to plan..."
A light rain was falling while the day faded into night, as Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the East Entrance to the Jedi Temple, raising his hood against the patter. His Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, was held up in a late meeting with the Jedi Council, and Obi-Wan had decided to take the opportunity to visit their tea merchant. No doubt his Master would need a restorative cup after going toe-to-toe with the most senior Jedi, and Obi-Wan was happy to oblige with a fresh brew of one of their favourite blends. He clasped his hands into the sleeves of his cloak, bowing his head to the rain, and setting off along the walkway to the nearby trade sector. He took a short cut through some of the lower levels, feeling safe and confident in the Force, and the lightsabre at his hip.
After several minutes of walking, there was a murmur in the Force; a whisper of something dark, something malevolent... Obi-Wan's steps slowed, as he frowned, reaching out with all of his senses. He looked up in time to see an impressively tall Wookie step out of the shadows of an alleyway, growling fiercely.
"Hello there," Obi-Wan said, mildly, "can I help you?"
"Oh, no," purred another, feminine voice, "it's you who'll need help, my boy..."
Obi-Wan half-turned, seeing a scar-faced, green-skinned Twi'lek approaching, her bare arms a patchwork of scars and tattoos, golden teeth glinting menacingly. Although the Force was telling him he was in danger, the true source was neither of these brigands, as imposing as they might appear. To anyone except a Jedi, that was...
"You really don't want to do this," Obi-Wan shook his head, warningly, "let me go on my way, and nobody needs to get hurt."
"If you don't wanna get hurt, kid, just give me all your money and that fancy belt you're wearing and we'll be on our way," the Twi'lek woman smirked, as the Wookie growled again.
"I'm warning you..."
The woman drew a blaster, levelling it at him; "I ain't fooling around here, boy – hand over the goods and I'll let ya live."
With a sigh, Obi-Wan reached for his belt, and drew his lightsabre, igniting it with a flick and assuming a defensive stance. The Twi'lek woman laughed, as the Wookie threw her head back and let out a roar of amusement.
"Oh, no!" the woman gasped, in mock horror, clapping the back of her hand to her forehead melodramatically, "a Jedi! Whatever shall we do?"
The Force screeched a warning in his mind and Obi-Wan whipped around as third, smaller figure appeared from the alley behind him, the three of them effectively surrounding him. The shorter figure was holding something small and dark, like a long shard of jet-black crystal. It was this object that had disrupted the Force, and Obi-Wan felt the breath snatched from his throat at the sight of the object. He could sense the power of the Dark Side emanating from the strange wand, and the Force was howling in response.
Obi-Wan raised his lightsabre, but the blade flickered slightly – it was strange; he realised he could no longer hear the crystal inside singing to him, resonating with his own Force-presence. The crystal that had chosen him, and only him, to wield its power, all those years ago as a mere initiate, when he had been sent on the Gathering to find the crystal to build his lightsabre. Now, the crystal was silent... no, not silent... it was wavering, weeping, keening in pain, and Obi-Wan could feel the Force crying out in distress.
"What... what is that thing?" Obi-Wan took a half step backwards, feeling the darkness starting to surround him, like inky tendrils reaching out from the strange artefact.
The silent, hooded figure merely held up the device, and it began to emit a low humming noise. Obi-Wan's lightsabre began to tremble slightly in his hands, and he stared at it in shock. The crystal sang a final, shrieking, crescendo note... and then shattered inside the handgrip of his sabre. Obi-Wan let out a wordless cry of grief-stricken dismay as the lightsabre deactivated, and a ripple ran through the Force at the crystal's shocking destruction. Completely unarmed and thrown off balance by the disruption to the Force caused by the strange device, Obi-Wan staggered back, holding his ruined lightsabre in both hands, staring at it in horror, feeling the death of the crystal within as if it were a physical wound.
"Kurrdyshik?" the small figure lowered his hood, and Obi-Wan dimly realised it was a young male Caphex, who regarded him coldly with deep, brown eyes, "Do it."
The Wookie roared, and Obi-Wan, thrown off-guard and still reeling, was too slow to avoid the heavy, hairy fist that swung towards the back of his head. He only felt the impact and then nothing more; he was unconscious before he even hit the floor.
Uumlah laughed, holstering her blaster; "I hope you didn't hit him too hard, Kurrdy – we need him alive."
The Wookie grunted and purred, and Uumlah grinned in response, before she stepped forward. Drawing another device from her belt, she leaned over, and injected the tracking device into the back of the unfortunate Jedi's neck.
"Are you sure they will not detect the device or its frequency?" Tahit asked her, secreting the Sabre Slayer back within his robes, "he's only a Padawan learner, judging by his age and that braid he's wearing. They may scan him or run medical tests before allowing him to leave the Temple again..."
"They won't find it," Uumlah smirked, confidently, "it's got an inbuilt cloak and it operates on a low-bandwidth frequency; they won't detect it until the power cell runs out. It should last a few days though. We'll need to stick fairly close to him, but hopefully it won't take too long for him to lead us to the crystals..."
"No self-respecting Jedi Knight will stand being without a lightsabre for long," Tahit replied, smoothly, straightening his whiskers, "even better that we have a Padawan, I feel – he will be much easier to overcome once he leads us to the crystals, if necessary. We may need a Jedi's help to access them, and he will do nicely."
"So what do we do with him now?" Uumlah rested one hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at the unconscious human sprawled on the floor; blood ran from deep lacerations on the back of his head from Kurrdyshik's claws, forming a small pool beneath the Jedi's head, "take him back to the Temple and dump him on the steps like some abandoned foundling?"
"No," Tahit was already melting back into the shadows, "we retreat... if I know the Jedi, his Master will soon come looking for him..."
Uumlah's callous laughter joined in the throaty growls of her Wookie companion, as they followed Tahit to a safe distance from which to watch, and wait.
In the Jedi Council Chambers, located in the highest room of the tallest tower of the Temple, Master Qui-Gon Jinn folded his hands into the sleeves of his robes and resisted the urge to slip into a meditative trance as one of the other assembled senior Masters was delivering a lengthy report on trade route disruptions in the Outer Rim. Qui-Gon was only half-listening, as he felt the Force moving and rippling around him. Something felt... off, somehow. He was not quite sure why, but he was distracted this evening, like the Force was trying to draw his attention. He tried to focus on the moment, living always in the here and now, preferring not to dwell on bad feelings and anxiety, but... he could not deny that something felt irreconcilably wrong, and it had nothing to do with trade routes in the Outer Rim. He closed his eyes, and focussed on the Force.
"Master Qui-Gon?" a familiar, croaking voice intruded on his moment of introspection, "Something to say, have you?"
"My apologies, Masters," Qui-Gon replied, calmly, opening his eyes and meeting Master Yoda's inquisitive gaze, "I am... somewhat distracted. I sense a disturbance in the Force..."
"Feel it also, I do," Yoda inclined his head, "nearby, this disturbance is... the Dark Side of the Force, I sense..."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes again as the other Masters simultaneously reached out, feeling their own way with the Living Force, until he felt something else; not only the shiver in the Force, but another sensation... not quite fear, but trepidation... a threat, something happening... the training bond with his apprentice. He touched it, and felt a quiver of anticipation. Obi-Wan was on high alert.
Then, the Force screamed in such pain, such grief, that Qui-Gon, along with all of the other Masters in the room, let out and audible exclamation of shock and dismay.
"What... what was that?" Master Ki-Adi Mundi looked paler than Qui-Gon had ever seen him.
Yoda was about to reply when Qui-Gon yelped in pain, slamming both hands to his head and pitching to his knees, gasping for breath. There were muffled voices and then strong, supportive hands on his shoulders. He looked up, into the concerned brown eyes of Master Mace Windu.
"Qui-Gon? What is it?"
"My training bond with Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon gasped, shaking his head to clear it and then staggering to his feet, "I felt an overwhelming grief, then a sudden, sharp pain, and then... nothing. He is in great peril. I must go to him!"
"Then I will go with you," Windu announced, firmly, "do you think you can find him?"
"Our bond is muted, but still intact. I can lead us to him."
"Then let us make haste."
The two Masters took to their heels, and fled the Council Chambers.
In the rain, and the dim glow of the flickering night-lights of the lower levels, at a narrow intersection, Qui-Gon Jinn finally stopped running. Mace Windu was barely a step behind him as they both saw the wet, huddled figure, clad in a drenched brown cloak and slumped, face-down on the ground. Qui-Gon fell to his knees; hands held out in dismay, one gently resting on the familiar figure's back.
"Obi-Wan? Padawan, can you hear me?"
"Qui-Gon," Windu's voice was deep with concern, "look at this..."
He bent down, picking up the lightsabre from beneath the unconscious Padawan's lax right hand.
"His lightsabre," Qui-Gon noted, barely taking his eyes from his injured apprentice, "he tried to defend himself..."
"He would never have succeeded," Windu said, grimly, holding it out to his fellow Master, "here, take it..."
Qui-Gon frowned, not wanting to divert his attention from Obi-Wan, but something in Windu's tone made him look up, reaching for the lightsabre. It was familiar to him, in that he had handled it many times before, but this time, it was different. It was just... a hollow of piece metal, with a leather grip, and he almost dropped it in cold shock.
"The crystal," he said, numbly, "I can't feel it..."
"It's gone," Windu confirmed, "not stolen, just... gone. Destroyed."
"What... what could do this?" Qui-Gon gazed at the weapon in dismay, examining the casing as if it would yield some clue, "this must have been the disturbance in the Force that we felt."
"And you sensed Obi-Wan's grief as the crystal shattered," Windu agreed, "followed by... whatever did this."
He indicated the unconscious form beside them, as Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the fallen Obi-Wan.
"He has a set of three lacerations to the back of his head – they look like claw marks," Qui-Gon clipped Obi-Wan's lightsabre to his own belt as he gently probed the wound on the unconscious Padawan's scalp, "it is quite swollen, too – something hit him, and with a great deal of force. Why simply leave him here though?"
"Obi-Wan was likely not the target," Windu replied, darkly, "I suspect someone simply wanted to test a weapon capable of neutralising a lightsabre, and he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"He had said he was going out to buy some fresh tea leaves," Qui-Gon huffed a humourless snort, his hands still protectively poised over the unconscious boy, "he must have taken a short-cut and been ambushed... we need to get him back to the Temple, Mace. He's wet through and this head wound needs immediate treatment."
"Take him, Qui-Gon," Windu told him, firmly, "and look after him. I'll take a look around here and see if I can find any trace of his assailant."
"Thank you, Mace."
Qui-Gon scooped his Padawan up, lifted him over one shoulder, turned, and began to run back to the Temple.
Obi-Wan's return to consciousness came gradually, as the sun rose the next morning. The first thing he was aware of was the soft surface he was lying on; he lay on his front, his head turned slightly to the right, his right hand tucked under his cheek. There was a soft pillow beneath his head, and a warm blanket swathed around him. The room smelled faintly of his favourite incense, and there was soft, meditative music playing in the background. He drew in a slow breath, and that was when the pain in his head made itself known, and he moaned aloud as the back of his head exploded into a pounding throb. He raised his left hand to cradle the back of his skull, only to feel the distinctive woven texture of bandages wrapped around his head.
"Obi-Wan?" the familiar voice was soft and gentle, laden with concern, as a strong hand clasped his shoulder, "do not move, Padawan... this will help."
A hypospray was pressed to his neck, and relief flooded through him as the pain-reliever chased the relentless throbbing away, muting it to a more manageable dull ache. Obi-Wan grimaced, and, with some effort, managed to blink his eyes open.
"Master..."
"I am here, Padawan," Qui-Gon was sitting on the edge of his bed, and Obi-Wan realised, with a start, that he was in his own room, not the Halls of Healing, "you have suffered a severe concussion, young one."
"How... how did I get here?"
"Master Windu and I found you unconscious in the lower levels," Qui-Gon replied, gently, as Obi-Wan managed to roll over, sitting up slightly and resting back against the pillows, mindful of his sore head, "we brought you back here. The Healers treated your head wound and allowed me to bring you back here to recover."
"What happened?"
"I was hoping that you could tell me, young one."
Obi-Wan raised his left hand to his aching head, and he turned slightly towards the beside stand, his eyes coming to rest on his lightsabre. Qui-Gon followed his gaze, and watched as Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, summoning the now-useless weapon into his right hand. He stared at it, sadly, almost overwhelmed with grief at the painful loss, before releasing those feelings into the Force, letting go.
"There were three of them," he spoke softly, even as he used the Force to slowly disassemble the lightsabre, the pieces floating before him as he methodically took the weapon apart; "they ambushed me in the lower levels... the first was a Wookie, a female, with dark black fur. The second was a Twi'lek, a green female, heavily battle-scarred. The third was a young Caphex, a male. He held a strange device, a long, black crystal, it... it resonated strongly with the Dark Side, Master. I have never felt anything like it... it felt cold, and evil... and it did this."
The final segments of the lightsabre parted, and Qui-Gon's eyes widened fractionally at the sight of the shattered crystal, the tiny shards dulled and scorched. The Master held out his hand and drew the fragments towards him, gathering them into his palm, as Obi-Wan reassembled the lightsabre hilt, placing it back on his night stand, clearly exhausted with his efforts. Qui-Gon closed his fingers around the crystal shards, and rose slowly from his Padawan's bedside.
"I need to leave for a while, Obi-Wan," he said, softly, "I must report this to the Council immediately... will you be alright by yourself?"
"I should come with you, Master," Obi-Wan was already pushing back the blankets, "I... I should make my report... they may have questions for me..."
"You should rest here, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied, firmly, using his free hand to gently push his student back down against the pillows, "I can make the report to the Council; you need to regain your strength. I insist upon it."
Obi-Wan slumped back in reluctant acquiescence, as Qui-Gon turned to go, but then Obi-Wan murmured; "Master?"
"Yes, Padawan?" Qui-Gon half-turned back towards him, curiously.
"Will you... please... would you ask the Council for permission for me to take a trip to Ilum?" Obi-Wan fidgeted with the blanket slightly, and then glanced across at the hilt of his lightsabre, "I... I would like to make the pilgrimage to seek a new crystal, as soon as possible..."
"Of course, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon inclined his head, "and I will insist upon their agreement... as soon as you are recovered; which will not happen unless you rest for a while."
Obi-Wan raised a small, sad smile, and Qui-Gon sent a wave of warmth and reassurance through their bond as his Padawan obediently lowered himself back down, wrapping the blanket around himself as he settled into the bed. Satisfied his student would stay put, Qui-Gon stepped out, and made his way quickly to the Council Chambers, where he knew the Masters were already assembled and waiting for his report. They greeted him warmly, and Windu was the first to ask after his Padawan.
"Obi-Wan is resting and will make a full recovery," Qui-Gon replied, "he told me he was attacked by three beings; a Wookie, a Twi-lek and a Caphex. The Caphex held a device Obi-Wan described as a long, black crystal, powerful in the Dark Side of the Force. It was this device... that did this."
He opened his hand, and lifted the shattered kyber crystal fragments into the air with the Force. The assembled Masters gazed at the destroyed crystal with a mixture of shock and horror, all of them then releasing those feelings into the Force as they considered the splinters hanging before them. Master Yoda reached out his hand, and then frowned.
"Hmm..." he closed his eyes, pursing his lips, "the Dark Side, I feel... an artefact of the Sith, I sense."
"The Sith?" Master Plo Koon folded his long, clawed fingers together, "A worrying concept indeed... we must make every effort to locate and destroy this artefact."
"Without his lightsabre, Obi-Wan was almost completely defenceless," Qui-Gon said, as he allowed Master Windu to draw the fragments away from him, taking them into his own hands for examination, "we all felt its destruction; Obi-Wan would have taken the full force of that shock, rendering him vulnerable to attack. We are lucky he was not killed by his assailants."
"Perhaps they merely wished to test the artefact," Ki-Adi-Mundi mused, "to what darker purpose, though?"
"We will investigate this matter further," Windu agreed, "Qui-Gon, see to your Padawan; when he is more recovered, find out if there's anything else he can tell us about the device or his assailants, we must find out the purpose behind his attack."
"Of course," Qui-Gon nodded, "but; there is one more thing... a request to the Council, from my young Padawan."
"Name it," Windu said, calmly, leaning forward with interest.
"Obi-Wan wishes to make a pilgrimage to Ilum as soon as possible; to seek out a new kyber crystal for his lightsabre. He requests the Council's permission to go."
"Granted, permission is," Master Yaddle inclined her head, slowly, "wish the young Kenobi a speedy recovery, we do."
"Thank you, Masters," Qui-Gon bowed, and then took his leave, heading back to their quarters to give Obi-Wan the news.
Two days later, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan walked slowly through the Temple corridors, heading towards the hanger bay. The latter was dressed in his thick brown travel cloak, a small satchel bag slung over his shoulder, carrying a few meagre supplies for his pilgrimage, his defunct lightsabre amongst them.
"Are you sure you wish to do this alone, Padawan? The Council would have no objection to my accompanying you."
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan gave a slight shake of his head; the bandages were long gone and the cuts healed by liberal bacta treatments, but the Padawan still seemed a little too pale and tired for his Master's liking; "I will be fine – the loss of the crystal was mine; I must go and find out if I am worthy of another."
"There is no doubt in my mind of your worthiness, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, firmly, "do not dwell on your loss and your anxieties; be mindful of the moment, and allow the Force to guide you. Accept whatever lesson the Force chooses to teach you on your journey, and return to us safely with your new crystal."
"Yes, Master."
They reached the hanger bay, where a small, single seat ship was waiting for him, an astromech droid being lifted into position, beeping and whirring in anticipation. They approached the ship, the cockpit open and the controls in standby.
"There is a hyperspace engine ring waiting for you in orbit," Qui-Gon said, as they turned to face each other, the tall Master placing one hand on his Padawan's shoulder, "the co-ordinates have already been programmed into your astromech droid; you should be arriving only a few hours before sunrise over the sacred temple. I shall expect you back within two days, Obi-Wan."
"Thank you, Master; I won't let you down."
"I know. May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan."
"And with you, Master."
They bowed deeply to each other, before Obi-Wan climbed into the cockpit. Qui-Gon stepped back as the canopy closed, and, with a small wave, Obi-Wan took the controls, lifting off and piloting out of the hanger.
"Well, then," he said, activating the comm. channel to the astromech co-pilot, "hello there... what's your designation?"
The droid beeped, and Obi-Wan nodded; "Hello, R1-T6... right; let's pick up our hyperspace engine cradle first... do you have the co-ordinates for me?"
R1 beeped in the affirmative, as they cleared the atmosphere, into the busy space traffic lanes around Coruscant. The green astromech droid indicated their hyperspace cradle on the navigational computer, and then guided them into the waiting frame. Accelerating away slowly, the hyperspace engines in place, Obi-Wan checked the course the droid had plotted for them, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Okay, R1 – take us into hyperspace."
With a beep and a whistle, the droid obeyed, and the ship leapt into the acceleration of hyperspace. Unbeknownst to either Jedi or droid, behind them, a small but fierce fighter ship dropped out of its waiting orbit, launching along their wake.
Several hours later, the small shuttle dropped out of hyperspace, slipping into orbit around the ice-clad world of Ilum, home to the Jedi's most sacred temple. Obi-Wan felt the strength of the Force flowing through him, singing to him, and he relaxed into it, releasing their small ship from the hyperspace engine cradle. Leaving the cradle in orbit and taking over navigational control from the droid, Obi-Wan guided the ship down, into the atmosphere, landing a respectful distance from the temple.
"Wait here for me, R1," he ordered, wrapping his cloak around himself and pulling up his hood; "this will take a few hours, at least."
The droid trilled its acknowledgement, as Obi-Wan opened the canopy, climbing out. His boots crunched in the snow as he walked, hood drawn up against the biting cold, his satchel slung across his shoulder, as he walked slowly, drawing on the Force around him, allowing it to warm him and guide his steps closer to the temple.
He soon entered the cavernous entrance hall, the huge doorway to the kyber crystal deposits sealed with ice from the frozen waterfalls above. He knew he could simply break through the ice, but this was not the Jedi way. He sat on the cold, stone floor at the foot of the steps up to the doorway, and crossed his legs. Resting his wrists on his knees, he straightened his back, relaxed his shoulders, and allowed himself to fall into a deep meditative trance, listening as the Living Force whispered and swirled around him, peaceful and serene.
Some time later, he slowly opened his eyes, as the first light of dawn seeped through the high temple window, hitting the top of the ice door perfectly. He watched, in quiet awe, as the light warmed and melted the thin ice, creating a gap that crept downwards, opening the doorway. He stood, slowly, adjusting the bag strap over his shoulder, and walked forward, ascending the steps reverently, head bowed, contemplating the importance of the journey as much as the destination.
He savoured each second as he passed through the vaulted doorway, remaining in the moment, feeling the Force around him. He briefly recalled his first visit here as an initiate, sprinting through the door, exhilarated by the promise of building his first lightsabre. He acknowledged and released a flash of grief at the destruction of his crystal, moving along the rocky hallway, allowing the Force to lead him. He activated the torchlight on his wrist, pointing his arm ahead of him as he walked. He paid no heed to the twists and turns of the mines beneath the Temple of Ilum, content to simply be drawn along the corridors.
Somewhere ahead of him, in the darkness ahead of his torchlight, he could hear the faintest of melodies, and his spirits lifted in hope; something was calling to him. He moved towards it, listening, feeling the eddies and flows of the Force around him, whispering, drawing him on... until there was a discordant note, and he stumbled, mid-step, suddenly thrown off balance.
Darkness – danger!
He turned, slowly, aiming his torch back down the way he had come, only to hear a cackle of hauntingly familiar laughter.
"That's far enough, kid," sneered a voice, and Obi-Wan took a horrified step backwards, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and unarmed, as the scar-faced Twi'lek woman emerged from the shadows, a blaster levelled at his chest.
Behind her, a larger shadow uttered a low, guttural growl, and Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder as the huge Wookie loomed behind her.
"How... how did you find this place?" Obi-Wan swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice level, as he rapidly considered his options; even without his lightsabre, he was not completely unarmed – he was well trained in hand-to-hand combat, and the Force was on his side...
"That is beside the point, Jedi," a third voice cut in, the smooth, purring tones of the Caphex, as he stepped out from behind the Wookie
He was clutching the black crystal that made Obi-Wan's mouth go dry as his heart hammered in his chest, the Force howling at the presence of a creation of the Dark Side in the Jedi's most holy temple, as he spoke again; "You will lead us to the kyber crystals."
"What?" Obi-Wan took a step backwards again, as the three figures advanced, "So you can destroy them? I don't think so..."
"We're not here to destroy them, boy – we're here to take them. Those crystals are worth a fortune!"
"Then you're just common thieves," Obi-Wan curled his lip in distaste, "I will do nothing to help you."
"You've led us here, Jedi," the Twi'lek smirked, "if we have to kill you and find the crystals by ourselves, so be it. We'll tear this place apart to find your secret vault."
Vault? Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, as he realised that the three criminals had no idea that there was no vault. The walls and chambers around them were filled with kyber crystals... clearly; they had no idea what they were looking for, or how to find it. Obi-Wan took another step backwards, but this time with more determined purpose.
"I don't know how you followed me here, but I will do nothing to help you," he said, firmly, "now I suggest you turn around and leave... I have no desire to hurt you."
"I think we've already proven, boy, it's us that's gonna hurt you if you don't play nice," the woman's finger tightened on the trigger as her one good eye narrowed at him, "now where are the kriffing crystals, Jedi?"
Obi-Wan raised his hands, as if in a gesture of surrender, but with a moment of focus, he grasped with the Force, and pulled. With a dull rumble, followed by a cacophonous roar, the ceiling of the tunnel cracked, crumbled, and collapsed, creating an effective barrier between Obi-Wan and the three brigands. He could hear the Twi'lek woman snarling and cursing with rage, as the Wookie's roars echoed around him. It would not take them long to blast their way through, so Obi-Wan turned and ran.
He chose twists and tunnels at random, sprinting through the old mine shafts, until he reached a small cavern, where he was confronted with a steep, sheer rock face; a vertical climb, straight upwards. He swore under his breath, turning to run back the way he had come, but a blaster bolt singed past his left shoulder, and he froze.
"Enough tricks, Jedi!" snarled the scar-faced woman, "Last chance! Where are the crystals?"
The Wookie roared aggressively, the Caphex merely standing to one side, content to let the two women take on the unarmed Jedi. Obi-Wan held his hand out in front of him, and, with a quick yank, took the blaster clean out of the woman's palm, summoning it to himself, clasping it in both hands. The weapon felt crude, ugly and uncivilised, but he held onto it unwaveringly, aiming it at the three brigands. However, the woman simply laughed.
"Nice try, kid," she smirked, "but that blaster's mine – it's coded to my genetic signature. It won't work for anyone else... go on, try it... shoot me, boy."
Obi-Wan shrugged, and clicked the trigger. Sure enough, nothing happened. With a sigh, he turned, and with all of his strength, he threw the blaster into the air, using the Force to push it onto a ledge of the rock face, high up above them. The woman's ravaged face twisted into a snarl, as she lunged forward.
"Why, you little brat, you'll pay for that!"
A Force shove sent her flying backwards, and she collided with the floor, rolling with the impact and springing to her feet.
"Kurrdyshik!" she spat, "Let's tear this Jedi whelp apart!"
Obi-Wan leapt and somersaulted, neatly avoiding the Wookie's powerful swipe, vaulting over her towering frame and landing behind her. He lashed out, kicking the tall creature in the back of the knee, causing her to stumble; he jumped high, twisted in mid-air and swung his curled left fist, putting all of his Force-strength into a powerful punch to an eye socket. He was rewarded with a howl of pain and what felt like a broken knuckle in his left hand.
The Wookie staggered backwards, shaking her shaggy head and cradling her eye, keening in pain, as Obi-Wan's hand throbbed with hot agony. He released the pain into the Force as he turned, his left arm automatically snapping up to block the swipe from a dagger aimed at his throat. The Twi'lek spat a vile curse at him and kicked him, hard, in the stomach. He doubled over and stumbled backwards – straight into an unyielding pillar of fur. With a loud, reverberating roar, he found himself being lifted up, clean off his feet and high into the air. The Wookie hefted him up above her head, turned, and, before he could even react, threw him straight into the rock face with all her strength.
Slamming full force, side-on into the wall, Obi-Wan felt several things all in one go. There was an awful crack as his head struck the rock, almost knocking him out of his senses; he felt at least two of his left ribs snap under the impact, and pain flared through his left shoulder, the joint slamming out of position. He bit back an agonised cry as he hit the floor, twisting his left knee painfully as he felt something give inside the joint. Biting his lip, he forced himself up onto his right arm. Shaking with pain, willing himself not to pass out as black sparkles danced in front of his vision, he hauled himself to his knees, cradling his broken ribs with his right hand, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side.
"Surrender, Jedi," the smooth voice of the Caphex cut through his agony, as he tried to raise his head, his vision blurring and spinning with dizziness
Two concussions within the space of a week, he thought to himself, distantly, Master Qui-Gon is going to lock me in the Halls of Healing for a month after this...
"N...never," Obi-Wan gasped, blinking in an effort to clear his vision, valiantly calling upon the Force to strengthen him, "you'll... you'll never find the crystals..."
"Where are they?" the Twi'lek woman screamed in frustration, "Kurrdy, get him on his feet, now!"
A furry paw wrapped around his throat and lifted him, ignoring his choked cry of pain, as he was held up high, feet dangling, his right hand clawing desperately at the Wookie's iron grip. He was barely able to drag in enough air to stay conscious, the darkness wavering on the edges of his awareness. And in the darkness... peace.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and concentrated. The walls around him were filled with kyber crystals, all waiting to find the one Jedi they wished to be bound to. He concentrated on the Force, and asked for help.
The Force obliged.
Opening his eyes, in the darkness of the cavern, Obi-Wan saw, then, the glittering of a multitude of crystals, shining like tiny stars, all singing with different voices but all attuned to the Living Force that flowed though him. He slowly released his grip on the Wookie's wrist, and allowed himself to relax completely.
"What the...? Kurrdy, we need him alive! Not so tight!"
The Wookie grumbled a protest, giving the Jedi a painful shake, knowing she was not gripping tightly enough to throttle him, as much as she wished to. Her eye still smarted and was swollen shut; no mere human had ever managed to wound her so, and she would have quite enjoyed tearing the upstart Jedi limb from limb. She turned to growl her protest at her friend, when the Jedi gave a minute wave of his hand. There was a sound like the shattering of glass, and Uumlah screamed a warning.
"Kurrdy! Look out!"
The Wookie turned, only to be confronted by a wave of jagged crystals soaring through the air, each one a tiny, wickedly sharp projectile, held and flung by an invisible hand. The Wookie let out a single, agonised howl and then fell, dark fur matted with blood from multiple puncture wounds as the shards pierced and shot through her like bullets. The grip on his throat suddenly released, Obi-Wan collapsed into a heap on the ground, gasping breathlessly, desperately calling on the Force to keep himself conscious.
"Kurrdy!" the Twi'lek's wail of grief sent a shiver down his spine, "Kurrdy! No! You little bastard! I'll kill you myself, you Jedi piece of shit!"
Obi-Wan waved his hand again, and the crystals spun around; even as the Twi'lek lunged at him in murderous rage she was cut down, sliced to ribbons by the very shards she had come to steal.
"Very impressive, Jedi," the Caphex tilted his head to one side, "but I think you've forgotten what my Sabre Slayer is capable of."
He waved the device and Obi-Wan felt the Force shudder, the power of the Dark Side sending powerful disturbances through his Light Side energy. One of the crystals wavered, and then shattered, singing out a final note of discord as it died. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, calling once more upon his rapidly failing reserves of Force energy, drawing the crystals closer together. Another shattered, and then another, as the Caphex began walking towards him, Sabre Slayer extended, targeting one crystal after another, shattering each in turn.
However, Obi-Wan stretched out his hand, and the assembled crystals all began to sing together, one note, climbing to a crescendo in the Force, and the Caphex's brown eyes widened in shock as the black crystal began to vibrate in his hand.
"No!" he exclaimed, "No, what are you doing? How are you doing this? Stop, I command you!"
"You... you might be able to destroy one crystal at a time," Obi-Wan managed to raise a grim smile, his good arm still extended before him, "but you cannot deal with the combined power of so many... the strength of these crystals could shatter a planet, let alone your little Sith toy."
"No!" howled the Caphex, but it was too late.
With a shriek, the Sabre Slayer was torn from Tahit's grasp, where it spun in the air, and then exploded, shattering into a dozen pieces. The shockwave of dark energy through the Force was enough to knock Obi-Wan off his feet; he crashed to the ground, the crystals he had been holding dropping with him, their light fading, dimming into dull rocks once more. Tahit, disarmed, disoriented and alone, turned, and fled the cavern.
Obi-Wan groaned in pain, his various injuries sharply reminding him that he was in no fit state to pursue; however, his sense of duty overrode that, telling him he had no choice. He forced himself to his knees, and, without really knowing why, he summoned the shattered black crystals of the Sabre Slayer towards him, depositing in them into his satchel, knowing the Council would want to study it. He was trying to catch both his breath and his balance, when something caught his eye.
Amongst the loose rocks around him, a single crystal glittered and shone; a diamond in the dust.
He smiled, and reached for it, clasping it in his good hand. With a yell of pain, he wrenched on his left arm, snapping the shoulder back into position; it throbbed fiercely, but at least the arm was usable again. He summoned the Force to hold the pain of his injuries at bay, scrambled to his feet, and took off in pursuit of the Caphex.
Obi-Wan half-ran, half-limped his way through the stone corridors, following the wake of fear in the Force left by the fleeing Caphex. He had the advantage now of knowing where he was going; the Caphex had to keep stopping, no doubt checking his directions. However, Obi-Wan was slowed by his injuries and his ebbing strength in the Force. Finally he emerged into the main hall of the temple, surprised to see the doorway was almost frozen shut; he had no idea he had spent so long in the tunnels.
He staggered out, following the footsteps of the Caphex, plunging into the snow-covered terrain outside... just in time to see the would-be thief's ship lifting off. He turned to run towards his own ship, much further away, but the brigand's ship turned, and opened fire. A barrage of laser bolts sent Obi-Wan's ship up into an explosion, destroying both the ship and the droid, flinging fire and debris high into the air as the shockwave threw Obi-Wan off his feet, down into the snow. He raised his head in time to see the other ship disappearing into the clouds high above, leaving him lying there, abandoned on the icy world.
It took some time, but Obi-Wan forced himself to move. He struggled to stand, his left knee refusing to support much of his weight, forcing him to practically crawl through the snow. He left behind the ruins of his ship, dragging himself back into the main hall of the temple. Here, at least, there was a little shelter from the howling, icy winds outside, but there was no warmth to be found; the air temperature remained well below freezing. He shivered, painfully, trying to gasp in a breath, but his chest constricted and his lungs refused to co-operate, his broken ribs grinding in protest.
He dragged himself to the steps leading up to the now-frozen door, tucking himself into a corner beside them, so that his back was protected and he could see the main doorway. He pulled up his hood and drew his cloak around himself, trying to suppress the shivers of cold that sent spikes of pain through his battered body. His head was pounding, his left hand and shoulder throbbed, his broken ribs ached fiercely, and his knee pulsed in tandem with everything else. He raised a shaking right hand to his left temple, and felt something sticky; pulling his fingers back he was surprised to find them red with blood against pale, blue skin. Funny, he had not realised that his head was bleeding... his face was so numb from the biting cold he had been unable to feel it.
Digging into his satchel, he pulled out the hilt of his lightsabre, and examined it. It felt hollow and empty in his hands. He was nearly Force-exhausted; he knew it from the way his head spun and his very soul seemed to hurt, but if he was going to die here, then he at least wanted to die feeling like a Jedi. He could not do that without a functioning lightsabre. Summoning what waning strength he had left, he held the lightsabre aloft with the Force. Under his concentrated guidance, the components each separated, drawing apart, suspended in the air in front of him.
"The c-c-crystal... i-is the h-heart... o-o-of the blade," Obi-Wan recited, softly, stammering through chattering teeth, as he finally opened his clenched fist, releasing the precious crystal that had chosen him, allowing it to float upwards, "Th-the... h-heart... is the c-crystal... of the... J-J-Jedi... the Jedi... is the... c-crystal of the... F-F-Force... The Force... i-is the b-b-blade... of the... h-heart. A-all are... inter...twined. The c-crystal... the b-b-blade... the J-Jedi... we are one."
The crystal sang a brilliant note to him through the Force as it nestled amongst the other components, and he guided them all back together, holding out his open palm, the completed hilt falling obediently into his waiting grasp. He closed his shaking hand around it, feeling the weight and familiarity of the weapon in his palm, before he activated it. The crystal sang again, and the plasma blade ignited; blue, Obi-Wan noted with satisfaction, just as it should be.
"We are... one," he repeated, weakly.
He switched off the weapon and clutched it to his chest for one moment, sending his thanks to the Force. Then, his arm slipped down, hand and lightsabre landing with a soft thump on the ground, as his head slumped forward, and he lost the battle for consciousness at long last.
Qui-Gon Jinn made a concerted effort to unclench his jaw, as his transport shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. He could see another hyperspace engine ring drifting in a waiting orbit, and realised his worst suspicions were correct. His Padawan still had not left Ilum. He began his descent, even as he recalled standing in the Council Chambers with Mace Windu and Yoda, discussing the assault on Obi-Wan and the strange lack of witnesses or evidence, several hours previously. They had all felt it, then – the same strange disturbance in the Force, muted by great distance and yet still overpowering, as the Living Force had swept around them, focussing on Qui-Gon, calling him to Ilum, telling him something wasn't right.
At the agreement of the two Council Members, he had taken a small shuttle and immediately plotted his course for Ilum. Doing a low sweep over the temple, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the tell-tale blackened blast mark on the surface and a ring of debris, signalling a destroyed ship. He quickly set down his shuttle, lowering the ramp and dashing out into the deep snow. A quick search around the wreckage confirmed that it was a single-seat short-range transport suitable for a hyperspace cradle – the exact same type of ship Obi-Wan had taken on his pilgrimage to find a new crystal for his lightsabre. Qui-Gon eyed the wreckage carefully, walking around the ruined ship. It was clear that the craft had been destroyed on the ground from heavy weapons fire; not from an impact with the planet from a crash landing.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, and called upon the Force. He knew, instinctively, that Obi-Wan was not dead; he would have felt their training bond snap if that were the case. But the bond was dull, muted – an eerie, dark silence from his Padawan's end, which told him that the situation was dire. Qui-Gon turned, following a whispered murmur from the Force, and he struck out into the snow. He approached the Temple, bowing his head against the howling winds.
The tall Jedi Master stepped into the ancient structure, taking only a scant moment to appreciate the holiness of the most sacred of Jedi Temples. But, he was not here for introspection or meditation. He stepped forward with purpose, eyes scanning the room, until his gaze fell upon a crumpled pile of fabric in the corner, by the steps up to the crystal tunnels. No, not a pile of fabric; a brown travel cloak, wrapped around a body; a prone figure, who was too still and too quiet to be anything other than unconscious.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon rushed to his student's side, skidding to a halt as he landed on his knees on the smooth, stone-tiled floor. Obi-Wan was sitting barely upright; his back to the wall, head slumped forward, left arm awkwardly cradled in his lap, right arm lax at his side, his hand still clutching his lightsabre. Qui-Gon reached forward, using the crook of his finger and thumb to gently lift Obi-Wan's chin, getting a good look at his face, and he let out a small gasp. There was a deep laceration to his Padawan's left temple that had left a trail of blood dried and crusted down the side of his face. His skin was so pale it looked white; his lips blue with cold, eyes closed, sunken and bruised purple.
A quick scan with the Force told Qui-Gon that his young Padawan had suffered further injuries; aside from the concussion, even with Obi-Wan completely unconscious he could detect the pain of a dislocated shoulder that had been incorrectly realigned. There were two broken ribs, two more were cracked, a broken bone in his left hand, and torn cartilage in his left knee; he was also covered in bruises that spoke of extensive trauma. His Force signature barely flickered, faded to almost nothing, exhausted. He was also frozen to the core, hardly breathing; severely hypothermic.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon breathed, horrified by the younger Jedi's condition, "Obi-Wan... come back to me, dear one..."
Qui-Gon placed his hand on Obi-Wan's chest, trying to send him some warmth and strength through the Force, but his Padawan's reserves were so depleted, it did nothing. He was too far gone for the Force alone to be able to bring him back without getting him somewhere warmer. Knowing he needed to act quickly, Qui-Gon took off his own travel cloak, bundling it around Obi-Wan for what little extra warmth it could offer, before lifting the unconscious student over his shoulder. Something fell from Obi-Wan's hand, rattling on the floor. Qui-Gon turned, and reached out; the fallen lightsabre floated obediently into his hand, and Qui-Gon managed a hollow smile as he felt the presence of the new kyber crystal within.
Striking out into the icy landscape once more, Qui-Gon soon had them aboard his ship, closing up the ramp behind him. Qui-Gon had come in a small transport ship rather than a one-mount scouter, for which he was now thankful. There was a small bunk-bed behind the pilot's chair, and he lay Obi-Wan down upon it, turning up the heating in the cockpit. Qui-Gon summoned the Force again and, with both hands on Obi-Wan's chest, he flooded warmth into the Padawan's hypothermic, frozen body, pouring in more and more, until he was rewarded with a faint gasp, a shudder, and a sudden flush of colour washed away a little of a whiteness from his student's almost translucent skin.
"M-M-M-Master..."
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon greeted him, warmly, "oh, Padawan... you had me worried for a moment there... no, no, don't try to move, you are injured. Lie still; I will fetch medical supplies..."
Qui-Gon had made sure to grab an extensive medical kit before he left, suspecting that something was very wrong and wanting to be prepared. He soon returned to Obi-Wan's side, wrapping him in several warm blankets as the boy had started shivering; a good sign, then, that his body was at last responding, and trying to warm itself, but obviously painful for his other injuries. The Master arranged the two travel cloaks so that the hoods were wrapped around his Padawan's head, keen to avoid him losing any further body heat.
"This will help with the pain," he said, gently, and delivered an injection of pain-reliever straight into Obi-Wan's neck, seeing his student sag back onto the pillows in relief, his eyes slipping shut, "No! No, Obi-Wan, you must stay awake. You must stay conscious... I know you are tired, but it's important that you stay awake. I have done as much as I can with the Force but you are still hypothermic and you have a concussion... again. You must stay awake, do you hear me?"
Obi-Wan groaned, but obediently forced his eyes open, as Qui-Gon nodded to him approvingly.
"I'm going to get us out of here, Obi-Wan," the Master said, gently, "just lie still, and stay awake for me... as soon as we get into hyperspace I will come and tend to your injuries. Can you stay awake just a little while longer, Padawan?"
"Y-yes, M-Master."
"Good," Qui-Gon nodded, and turned quickly to the controls of the ship.
It felt like it took far too long to launch from the surface, get them up into orbit, dock with the hyperspace engine cradle and set them on a course back to Coruscant; but the moment the ship leapt into the accelerated flight home, he activated the autopilot and returned to his Padawan's side. Obi-Wan was barely conscious, his eyes flickering as he fought to stay awake. Qui-Gon sent him another pulse of strength, trying to bolster the ailing student's failing reserves. Obi-Wan accepted it gratefully, blinking his vision back into focus.
Qui-Gon picked up a sterile cleansing cloth from the medical kit, tearing open the packet, and then used it to gently dab the dried blood away from the wound to Obi-Wan's temple. The Padawan's brow creased in pain but he made no sound as his Master went through several of the wipes, cleaning away the dried and crusted blood from his face, before carefully dressing and binding the wound.
"The Healers are not going to be impressed, Obi-Wan," he chided his student without any real reproach in his voice; "two concussions in the space of only a few days... what happened back there, Padawan? Can you tell me?"
Wordlessly, Obi-Wan shook his head, too exhausted to speak. Qui-Gon spared him a small, sad smile, cupping his palm to the Padawan's face, running his thumb affectionately over his cheekbone as Obi-Wan leaned into the touch with a tired sigh.
"You can rest in a moment, dear one," Qui-Gon murmured, withdrawing his hand, "let me tend to your other injuries first... I can at least stabilise the worst of it before we can get you to the Healers..."
He pulled back the blankets and pushed the thick cloaks aside just enough to ease his hand into Obi-Wan's tunic, feeling the slightly misshapen lump of his dislocated shoulder. From his injuries, Qui-Gon could only assume that his student had been in a vicious fight and then quite possibly been run over by a speeder, or fallen from a great height; only a high velocity impact could account for the damage to his left side, but the Master was at a loss as to the truth of the cause. With the aid of the Force and a little physical pressure, he popped the shoulder joint back into its proper alignment, which snatched a sharp gasp of pain from Obi-Wan.
"Hush, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, concentrating on his healing efforts, "I am sorry..."
Obi-Wan let out a strangled whimper as Qui-Gon's probing fingers moved from his shoulder to tug again at his tunic, exposing the Padawan's neck, as the Master frowned at the bruises around his student's pale throat. Obi-Wan shuddered under his gentle touch, and Qui-Gon moved his hand down, resting it lightly over the two broken ribs in the younger Jedi's left side. A gentle tug with the Force and there was an audible snap as the two ribs realigned, taking the pressure off the lung beneath. Obi-Wan's back arched in response as he yelped in pain; Qui-Gon quickly sent a soothing, apologetic wave through their training bond, feeling his Padawan trembling beneath his hand.
"Easy, Obi-Wan," he whispered, soothingly, "that is enough, for now. You may rest a while. I think the danger has passed..."
Obi-Wan did not need telling twice; his eyes immediately closed, and he tumbled into a deep sleep. Qui-Gon sighed, troubled, wondering what had befallen his student to leave him in such a terrible state. He took his seat in the pilot's chair, but turned the back to the console so that he could watch over Obi-Wan while he slept. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, the Jedi Master let himself slip into the comforting embrace of the Force, directing its healing energies towards Obi-Wan as best he could.
As expected, Obi-Wan spent a couple of days in the Halls of Healing; when he finally regained consciousness, he was obviously confused and bewildered by his ordeal; Qui-Gon remained by his side throughout periods of wakefulness, returning only to their quarters to eat and sleep a little, before returning to his Padawan's bedside. Then, one morning, he entered the Halls to find Obi-Wan sitting up in the bed, a steaming mug of tea cradled in both hands. He was staring into the mug, a distant, far-away look on his face, until he sensed his Master's presence, and he raised his head, his expression clearing into one of delight.
"Master!"
"Good morning, Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled, warmly, "you are looking much better today."
"I feel better, thank you, Master," Obi-Wan nodded, enthusiastically, "the Healers have given me permission to return to our quarters now..."
"...We were merely waiting for your arrival, Master Jinn," a new voice cut into their conversation, as Master Healer Vokara Che swept into the room, "yes, Padawan Kenobi, you may return to your quarters, but you are under strict instructions to rest for the next few days... nothing more strenuous than a few light katas and some meditation, please. Your knee and shoulder are still healing and you will find that you tire easily as you recover from your ordeal, understood?"
"Yes, Master Che," Obi-Wan nodded, hiding his embarrassed flush by ducking his head and taking a mouthful of his tea.
"Then I can take him with me now?" Qui-Gon queried, raising one eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm happy with that," Che inclined her head, but then drew the Master to one side, lowering her voice; "he still has not spoken of what happened to him on Ilum. I know he remembers, but when I asked, he said he would only talk to you and the Council about it. Whatever it was... it was bad, Qui-Gon. I've never seen injuries like these inflicted on a Padawan before..."
Qui-Gon nodded in understanding, flicking a worried glance back at his young student. Though the bruises had faded and the injuries treated, Master Che had told him in great detail the wounds inflicted upon Obi-Wan's battered body when the Master had carried his Padawan into the Halls a few days previously, swaddled in cloaks and blankets in a desperate attempt to keep him warm.
"There's something else," Che drew a vial from her pocket, and Qui-Gon took it from her proffered fingers, examining it closely; it appeared to contain a small, metal device.
"What is it?"
"It appears to be a tracking device," the Twi'lek Healer shook her long lekku sadly, "we found it implanted in the back of his neck yesterday afternoon... after the power cell failed. It has a built in cloaking device and seems to operate on a lower bandwidth than our scanners were capable of detecting. We only found it when the cloak ran out of power. I doubt he even knew it was there, though as to when and how it was implanted..."
"Most likely during the assault he suffered before going to Ilum," Qui-Gon replied, grimly, glancing over her shoulder again at Obi-Wan, who seemed to be doing his level best to ignore what the Masters were discussing, as if he were not the sole focus of their concern, instead donning a clean tunic and gathering his things, "thank you, Master Che; this could be vital evidence. Is there anything else I should know?"
"Make sure he stays warm, and keep the weight off his knee as much as possible," Che told him, "I'll have an aide deliver a few doses of pain-reliever to your quarters to use if he needs them... oh, and, Qui-Gon? Talk to the boy, please... get him to tell you what happened on Ilum. He needs to get it all off his chest."
"I will, Master Che," Qui-Gon inclined his head to her, "thank you, as always, for your service. May the Force be with you."
"And with you, Master Jinn."
The Healer took her leave, and Qui-Gon turned, to see Obi-Wan sitting, fully dressed, on the edge of the medical bed. He still looked a little pale and tired, but his gaze was alert, and it had not escaped Qui-Gon's notice that Obi-Wan was wearing a thick brown cloak, despite the warmth of the Halls. He nodded as Obi-Wan stood, holding his hands out a little from his sides, as if presenting himself for inspection.
"Much better," Qui-Gon nodded, approvingly, "however, there is one thing missing..."
He reached behind his back, and withdrew something from his belt, holding it out in the palm of his right hand.
Obi-Wan's expression lifted in pure joy, as he exclaimed; "My lightsabre! I thought I'd lost it!"
"You were never parted from it, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon reassured him, "I was merely keeping it safe for you."
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan accepted the weapon with both hands, clutching it to his chest, feeling the crystal inside singing to him, before he clipped it to his belt.
He reached for his satchel; even during his recovery, he had refused to be separated from the bag, so Qui-Gon and the Healers had been content to let him keep it with him. He pulled the strap over his good shoulder, wincing only slightly as he did so. He stood, and Qui-Gon did not fail to notice how he favoured his left leg, though the Master did not comment upon it. Instead, he shortened his usual long stride to a more sedate pace, as they left the Halls of Healing together.
"Master," Obi-Wan started, a little hesitantly, "before we return to our quarters... I should like to make my report to the Council... if it is alright with you?"
"Master Che was keen to impress upon me the importance that you not over exert yourself, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, angling a glance down at his student, "however... she was also concerned that you should discuss what happened to you on Ilum."
"I want to tell you, Master," Obi-Wan replied, earnestly, "it's just... I'd rather just go through it once, and I think the Council should hear about it."
"Are you sure you want to do this now, Padawan?"
"Yes, Master. I will be fine."
"Very well, then."
Qui-Gon raised his wrist communicator and issued a summons to request an urgent meeting of the Council; he was not surprised at the immediate agreement. The Council had no doubt been waiting for his call for some time, curious to hear what his Padawan had to say. He nodded down to Obi-Wan.
"The Council has agreed to assemble," he confirmed, "we will go straight to the Council Chamber."
"Thank you, Master."
By the time they reached the Council Chamber door, Obi-Wan was visibly limping, his left knee protesting the long walk. At Qui-Gon's obvious look of concern, he made a concerted effort to straighten himself up; but, he could do nothing about the evident pallor of his face. As the door slid open, Qui-Gon had to prevent himself from arching an eyebrow in surprise. The whole Council had managed to assemble for his summons, though a few were appearing via hologram as they were on other assignments. He cast his eyes around the room, seeing Masters Mace Windu, Yoda, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Adi Gallia, Yaddle, Depa Billaba, Saesee Tiin, Yarael Poof, Even Piell, Eeth Koth and Oppo Rancisis.
He stepped into the middle of the room and bowed low, Obi-Wan the customary step behind him, bowing a little more shallowly than usual, and Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's breath hitch in his throat as he did so, obviously still sore despite the Healer's ministrations.
"Masters," Qui-Gon broke the expectant silence, "thank you for agreeing to my Padawan's request to meet with us... he wishes to make his report to the Council as to the events that transpired on Ilum."
"And we look forward to hearing it," Plo Koon surprised Qui-Gon by climbing to his feet, standing beside his chair, and then gesturing to the seat with his long, clawed fingers, "however... first of all, Padawan Kenobi... you will sit."
"...Master?" Obi-Wan glanced uncertainly at Qui-Gon, then at Plo Koon, then back at Qui-Gon in confused askance.
"We can sense your pain, young Padawan," Yaddle told him, gently, "sit down and give your report, please."
Shooting a slightly panicked glance at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan hesitated, until Qui-Gon took the young Jedi's shoulder, led him to the chair, and gently guided him into it. He looked suitably shocked and uncomfortable to be sitting in a Jedi Master's Council seat, but his relief to take the weight off his injured knee was palpable to all those present, and behind his mask, Plo Koon smiled in affectionate amusement. Qui-Gon remained at Obi-Wan's side, protectively hovering over his student.
"Well, then, Padawan Kenobi," Mace Windu leaned back in his seat, resting his elbows on the arms of his own chair and touching his spread fingers together, angling an expectant look at the uncomfortable Padawan, "let us hear what happened to you on Ilum."
Haltingly, Obi-Wan told them of his arrival at the Temple; Qui-Gon nodded in quiet approval as he told of his reflective approach to seeking out a new kyber crystal, and his journey into the tunnels. How he had been followed; rubbing the back of his neck unconsciously, telling the Council that the Healers had found a hidden tracking device in his neck, which Qui-Gon immediately produced from his pocket and sent it floating over to Windu.
"It was the same three who attacked me in the lower levels," Obi-Wan recounted, quietly, "the Caphex, the Twi'lek and the Wookie – they were just common thieves; they wanted to steal the kyber crystals. But they thought there was secret vault or something… I used the Force to bring down the ceiling and fled, but they caught up to me in a cavern with a steep wall and no other way out... I... I tried to fight them, using the Force..."
"Take us through it, Padawan," Eeth Koth told him, gently, "leave nothing out."
"I... I took the Twi'lek woman's blaster," he said, hanging his head a little, "but it was coded to her DNA and wouldn't work for me, so I threw it high out of reach and then Force-pushed her back; I hoped to dissuade them, I did not want to hurt them... with the Twi'lek out of the way, I evaded an attack by the Wookie, bringing her down with a kick to the back of the knee, and then I... I punched her in the face."
"You punched a Wookie in the face?" Adi Gallia repeated, sounding impressed, amused and incredulous in equal measures.
"It's how I broke my left hand," Obi-Wan admitted, "the Twi'lek came at me with a knife, which I avoided, but they outmanoeuvred me, and then... the... uh... the Wookie picked me up and threw me into the wall of the cavern."
Qui-Gon barely managed to suppress a wince as a few of the Council Members exchanged knowing glances. They all knew the physical strength of a Wookie, and being thrown full force into a rock face at least explained the severity of Obi-Wan's injuries. The Padawan continued his tale, his voice growing quiet and mournful as he described being held in the Wookie's grip by his neck, dangling helplessly, at the mercy of his assailants.
"...So I... called on the Force for help," he said, clasping his hands together in front of him, lowering his gaze to the floor, "and the chamber... suddenly, it was filled with kyber crystals. Hundreds of them... I could hear them all singing, all at once. It was... it was beautiful."
Qui-Gon did not miss the surprised look that Windu shot at Yoda, who made a noise of interest and stroked his jaw with one hand, considering this.
"What then, Padawan?" Saesee Tiin asked, tilting his head to one side, his hologram flickering slightly as he did so.
"I called out to the crystals," Obi-Wan's voice was soft, and filled with regret, "and they came... they tore through the Wookie and the Twi'lek like... like the projectiles from slugthrowers and...they're both dead; the bodies are still in the Temple. I... Masters, I... I killed them; I defiled the Temple..."
"You had no other choice, Padawan," Even Piell reassured him, turning his scarred face towards the young Jedi, "we will send a team to tend to the Temple. You have committed no sin in defending yourself and our most holy site. The Force was with you, it seems."
"What of the Caphex?" Windu asked, his brows knitting together in concern.
"He... he used the same device he used to... to destroy my lightsabre," Obi-Wan swallowed, hard, at the memory, wrapping his cloak closer around himself and failing to suppress a shiver, as Qui-Gon glanced at him in concern, gently placing a steadying hand on the Padawan's shoulder; "he called it the Sabre Slayer, a Sith relic, he said... he destroyed several of the crystals with it, before I... I..."
"What did you do, Padawan?" Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice was soft and gentle, belying his stern reputation, "You may speak freely here."
"I-I don't know," Obi-Wan unconsciously raised one hand to his temple, wincing slightly, and Qui-Gon felt his concern go up another notch when he saw how the hand trembled slightly, "I... the crystals, they just... I called into the Force and they just... they sang, all together, and they... the Sabre Slayer... it shattered..."
He broke off, opening his satchel and, with shaking hands, he summoned the black crystal fragments out of the bag, suspending them in the air, as the assembled Council Members examined them closely.
"I will take these for further study," Windu declared, and Obi-Wan's relief to hand the fragments over was obvious, as Windu summoned them to his own hands, "they will be locked in the Archive Vaults for safe keeping... even broken, I sense a great darkness from this device."
"Impressive, this command of the Force is," Yoda commented, turning his green gaze back towards the pale Padawan, "surprising that you summoned so many crystals, it is."
"The Force helped me... with the Sabre Slayer destroyed, the Caphex fled," Obi-Wan's voice shook almost as much as the hands he tried to hide in the sleeves of his cloak, "I tried to chase him through the Temple, but... he escaped. He destroyed my ship, and left me behind... if it hadn't been for Master Qui-Gon, I... I..."
"It is alright, young Kenobi," Plo Koon intoned, placing his hand gently on the Padawan's other shoulder, "we know the rest... we have also received news of a young male Caphex found dead in the lower levels two days ago..."
He held out his free hand, and a holographic image sprang up from his communicator; Obi-Wan's eyes widened fractionally in recognition.
"That's him," he confirmed, emphatically, "that's definitely him..."
"His name was Tahit Tu'un," Adi Gallia spoke up, "he was an archaeologist specialising in Sith history. He must have uncovered the artefact – this Sabre Slayer – on one of his excavations. It was in a museum as an unknown object until it was purchased by an anonymous collector. He must have discovered its purpose, how it worked, and decided to use it for criminal intent... yet he had an excellent academic reputation..."
"Underestimate the power of the Dark Side, we must not," Yoda commented.
"It is likely he was corrupted by his exposure to and study of the device," Windu agreed, with some distaste, "he figured out how to use it and decided to exploit it to steal kyber crystals... I have no doubt that whoever was funding his criminal endeavour was less than happy with his failure to steal the crystals; thanks to you, Padawan Kenobi."
A blush crept its way up Obi-Wan's cheeks as he lowered his head at the unexpected praise.
"But it was my fault," he heard himself saying, "they targeted me and I led them straight to Ilum. I allowed the invasion and corruption of our most sacred site. I... it was my fault."
"No, Padawan," Ki-Adi-Mundi shook his head, slowly, "it was not your fault, and you defended yourself and the Temple of Ilum admirably. The Force was with you... if you were not worthy to wield the kyber crystals, you would not have been able to do so. And I see you have your lightsabre back... you have passed the trial of the Temple and earned your crystal."
Obi-Wan hastily blinked back the sudden blurriness of his vision, feeling Plo Koon's and Qui-Gon's hands tighten ever so slightly on his shoulders, as another tremor of fatigue shuddered through him.
"I think that is enough for today," Plo Koon, the gentle Kel Dor Master, said firmly, "Qui-Gon, your Padawan is exhausted... Perhaps you should take him back to your quarters and see that he gets some rest?"
"Agreed with my thanks, Master Plo," Qui-Gon nodded, "come, Obi-Wan... you have done well, my young Padawan, and now it is time for you to rest, or else the whole Council will be in trouble with Master Che."
"And we cannot have that," Ki-Adi-Mundi quirked a wry smile of amusement.
Obi-Wan slowly pushed himself to his feet, murmuring his thanks as Master Plo Koon offered him a supportive arm. He wavered, slightly, and then Qui-Gon was at his side, sending his concern and support down their bond even as he looped Obi-Wan's left hand around his own elbow, giving the Padawan his strength to lean on. Obi-Wan tried to send a reassurance through their bond, but all that seeped through his mental shields was a taste of his grief, pain and fatigue. Qui-Gon's grip on his arm tightened in response, as he thanked the assembled Council Members for their time, and led his young apprentice out of the Council Chambers.
As soon as they were in the hallway, Obi-Wan found himself being enveloped in a warm embrace as his Master wrapped both arms around him, pressing him to his broad chest.
"You did well, my young Padawan, and I am proud of you. It is no easy feat to destroy a Sith artefact."
Too tired to speak, Obi-Wan simply clung to his Master's robes, drawing some comfort from his strength. Qui-Gon's strong hold on him shifted slightly, as the Master suddenly crouched down, sweeping one hand behind Obi-Wan's knees, effectively scooping him off his feet and into a cradle-hold in his arms.
"Oh! No, Master, please... I can walk..."
"Of that I have no doubt, my young Padawan, but in this instance you will humour me and allow me to carry you."
"Master, really, there's no need..."
"I insist, Obi-Wan. Put your arms around my neck, and let me take you home."
His resolve crumbled in the face of the wave of fierce love and protectiveness he sensed from his Master. Obediently, he wrapped both arms around Qui-Gon's neck, burying his face into the folds of his Master's robe, just as he had when he was a youngling. By the time they reached their quarters, his grip had loosened, arms hanging limply, as the Padawan had fallen asleep in his Master's hold. Laying him down on their couch, pillowing his head on a cushion, Qui-Gon silently fetched a blanket from his sleep chamber, and draped it over the recumbent form of his apprentice.
"Sleep well, Obi-Wan... Force knows; you've earned it."
Author's note: "You punched a Wookie in the face?" is probably the best line of dialogue I'll ever write. It's all downhill from here… in all seriousness, though, this chapter really got away from me! I hope you've enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review if you did - constructive criticism welcome if you didn't - it really makes my day to get any kind of feedback. Thank you!