Title: Eight Ball, Part 1
Author: Tyger
Author E-mail: amidalakenobi@hotmail.com
Spoilers: the Jedi Apprentice series
Rated PG for swearing and (mostly) non-fatal violence.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns everything in this story, except the bartender and the mercenaries. But as they have three lines, max, they don't really count. I am making no profit, and no infringement is intended. You COULD sue me, I suppose, but all you'd get would be a slice of week-old birthday cake and some gum wrappers.
Author's Note: \\...\\ denotes thoughts or Force-messages, //...// denotes my inane & irrelevant comments. Small breaks (~~~) denote changes in point of view; (~~) denote changes of scene. Confused? Me too.
This was written before "Day of Reckoning," but takes place about 4 years later. I know most of what happens here is negated by the newest books, but I spent WAY too much time on this to blow it all to hell.
Eight Ball
Tyger
The ball slid slowly towards the corner. It teetered on the edge for a few seconds, and the opposing teenager fleetingly thought that he might have a chance. Then it rolled over and into the pocket.
Obi-Wan Kenobi groaned, a sound barely audible over the chatter of the pool hall's other patrons. "Good skies, that's three straight games! Don't you ever lose?"
"I try not to," his master replied calmly, easily dropping Obi-Wan's remaining hover-spheres into the pockets. "Another game, Padawan?"
"You'd think I'd learn when to quit," he replied, shaking his head, "but not yet. Rack 'em up."
"You boys want a drink?" The bartender, a female Twi-lek, sidled up behind Qui-Gon.
"Not now, thank you." He leaned languidly on the cue stick as Obi-Wan scattered the rack.
"Oh come now," she purred in his ear. "Surely after all this time, you're a little thirsty. And your son over there looks parched, too. Why don't you buy him a round?"
"Perhaps later," he responded, gently disentangling himself from the lekku twisting amorously around his neck.
"Oh, all right." She sighed and turned to throw out a quarreling pair of Chadra-Fan.
Obi-Wan doubled over laughing. "She was all over you! 'Why don't you buy him a round?'" he imitated, still snickering. "You have a way of attracting female attention, don't you?"
"Oh, come off it," he said, mock-irritated, as he turned back to the game. "Whose shot?"
"Yours," he replied smugly. "You have solids."
He saw that three of the striped spheres already rested in their pockets. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Three at a clip; you're improving. Now, if we could just work on your arrogance a little..." He knocked four in, prompting another good-natured groan from his padawan.
"When I do something good, you just go one better. How am I ever going to win?"
"Patience," he replied as Obi-Wan shot, missed, and swore. "Patience, and quite a bit of experience."
A cool breeze fluttered in with another guest. This one was dressed in a hooded black cloak to ward off the light rain. He strode straight to the game, as though he'd expected to meet the two Jedi here.
"Still cheating your apprentices out of a fair match, are you, Qui-Gon?"
The Jedi froze, his cue stick still poised on the table. He looked up into a pair of cool, taunting blue eyes. "Xanatos," he murmured. Qui-Gon straightened up slowly, gauging the other as he threw back the hood over his black hair.
"What reason have you to be here?" the elder Jedi challenged.
"You always were the suspicious one," he replied conversationally. "I have a proposition to make, a challenge of sorts."
"What do you want?" (Across the table, Obi-Wan slid a hand to his saber hilt.)
"Merely a game of pool," Xanatos continued lightly. "A gentleman's pastime. I always wondered if a day would come when I could beat you, and it appears I now have the opportunity to find out."
"What's your deal? I know it can't be that simple."
"The stakes, my friend; there are always stakes." He laughed softly as the whole silent barroom moved at once; a dozen blasters at various booths and tables were suddenly aimed at the two in the center of the room.
Qui-Gon saw the man move in behind his apprentice; he brought his saber up, but too late. Caught off-guard and defenseless, Obi-Wan felt the cold kiss of a vibroblade against his throat. His master lowered the weapon reluctantly. "I tire of these games, Xanatos. Name your price, I'll pay it."
"You insist on misunderstanding. It's a simple bet: if you win, I'll return the boy to you unharmed. If I win, he is mine."
"Yours?" he said hollowly, dread flooding his veins.
"Yes, mine," he repeated, like a parent explaining something to a very small child. "I have always desired an apprentice, and I think your current flunky will do quite well." He nodded to the man holding Obi-Wan, who led the captive to a chair and produced a length of synth-rope.
The bartender stepped in, this time angrily. "There will be no gunplay, no blood, and no damage to my property. Everyone must holster their weapons *now.* Do you understand?"
"Just put it on my bill, Tira," Xanatos replied absently. "I've waited too long for this."
"You've taken the poor kid *hostage!* I can't let you do that."
"I grow weary of this," he growled. "Pradu, Ru'haal: gag her. Put her with the boy." Two of the dozen mercs situated around the room moved gleefully in on her.
"Leave her be," Qui-Gon commanded. "She has no quarrel with you."
He laughed. "Ah, Qui-Gon. Protector of innocents, children...and bartenders. Gods, do you never stop? I hardly think you're in a position to give me orders, hm?"
"Let her go," he insisted firmly. "Then we can deal with this alone."
"Temper, temper, old friend. I'm sure you feel you are justified in this stubborn if futile stand, but your apprentice may harbor other feelings."
He gestured to the snared padawan, and the mercenary holding the knife brought it a little closer to Obi-Wan's throat, slicing delicately, brutally into his jugular. He tried not to cry out as warm blood ran down his neck.
Xanatos smiled thinly. "An ultimatum. We have perhaps fifteen minutes until he dies of blood loss. If the game is not over in that time, Master...we both lose."
Qui-Gon shot his apprentice a look of concern that bordered on fear. But Obi-Wan met his gaze steadily. \\Don't worry about me. Just play.\\
The Jedi nodded and gestured to Xanatos. "Your break," he said tightly.
~~~
Obi-Wan watched the scene calmly, fully aware of the blood now soaking his tunic. He had tried to heal the wound with minimal success; if nothing else, he had bought time. Not much, maybe another fifteen minutes. So this was what it was like to be a slave; not knowing who your master would be ten minutes from now, or even if you would be alive by that time. Great, so now he had thirty minutes to live, but surely his master could finish the game in that amount of time.
Then came the nagging little voice in the back of his mind: \\Of course the match would be over, but who would win?\\ Xanatos was good, better than anyone Obi-Wan had seen; but Qui-Gon was the best, and no one could beat the best.
Could they?
Five minutes passed, then ten. He resisted the urge to fidget, to try and break free of his fetters. He knew he had to conserve his energy and keep his heart rate low; it was the only way he was going to make it.
~~~
Xanatos dropped another ball into the pocket, then set up his next shot. He had two left, Qui-Gon still had five. "Getting old, Master?" he taunted. "I've never beaten you like this before. Are you losing your touch?"
"Not hardly." The cue ball tapped one of his gently--four more to go.
~~~
Obi-Wan knew he was in trouble. It was becoming a struggle to stay alert, and his head kept trying to fall against his chest. At times it was hard to breathe. He was losing track of the game because the room would occasionally tilt and blur. \\Hurry, Qui-Gon. Please hurry.\\
~~~
The Jedi risked a glance at his apprentice. He was shocked by the amount of blood on Obi-Wan's tunic, by the pallor of his face and his glazed expression. Fired by determination -- he was *not* going to lose another padawan -- he evened the match: now each had only to hit the eight ball in to claim victory.
The merc with the knife checked Obi-Wan's pulse. "We're losing him," he warned Xanatos. It had been nineteen minutes.
His concentration broken, Qui-Gon missed the eight ball entirely. The cue slid to rest at a perfect angle for his opponent. Xanatos laughed, and the Jedi Master's heart sank. There was going to be a fight if he made this shot; Qui-Gon flat-out refused to give up on his padawan. Obi-Wan could no longer stand on his own, so he would have to carry the boy and wield a lightsaber at the same time. It would not be easy.
"Eight ball in the corner pocket," Xanatos announced triumphantly. He tuned everything out--he couldn't possibly miss this shot.
And he didn't. A cheer rose from the mercenaries, as they'd be paid quite nicely for this one. Underneath the noise, a second small tap was heard: the sound of another ball falling.
Despite the danger his apprentice was currently facing, Qui-Gon found himself grinning. "No, Xanatos, you lose."
"What...?"
"You scratched. I win."
"I can't have-" But he had. "No!"
The lights went out as though snuffed, and blaster fire spattered the air where Qui-Gon had just been. He yanked out his lightsaber as he ran to Obi-Wan. A heartbeat too late; only a coil of blood-soaked rope lay across the chair. Laughter floated across the dimness.
He turned, and the green blade illuminated a grinning Xanatos, carrying Obi-Wan's limp form in his arms. "I win this round, old Master." Then he was gone in a crash of breaking glass.
By the time Qui-Gon made it to the door, Xanatos was out of sight.
He had wanted nothing more than to chase him down, to find him and kill
him no matter what the cost. He could sense that Obi-Wan was still alive, but his presence was waning and too weak to trace.
One thought almost reassured him: after all the trouble his wayward apprentice had gone to get Obi-Wan, he was sure the teen was in no immediate danger. That left him time to think of something.
The mercenaries had cut and run as soon as Xanatos had left, typical of fringe scum. He untied Tira, who promptly pulled her blaster on him, all romantic interest suddenly gone. "You're under arrest for cooperating with terrorists and damaging private property."
He looked her hard in the eye. "Do you really want to kill me with that?"
One head-tail twitched as she lowered the weapon. "No. But wait, I need your name, at least. You'll be a witness as to the creep who did this."
But Qui-Gon simply clipped his saber to his belt and walked alone into the rain.
~~~~~~
The fact that they were still on Coruscant unnerved Qui-Gon rather than reassuring him. The galaxy was limited, and had been mapped well, but the bowels of the planet-wide city lay unexplored without boundaries.
When a life other than his own was at stake, he found it was easier to ignore his stubborn sense of independence. He went before the Jedi Council to make his proposal.
"Hmm, unforeseen this is," mused Yoda. "But dangerous, is it, I wonder?"
"Master, Xanatos has proved many times to us that he is volatile and unstable. It will take little to cause him to lose his temper with Obi-Wan."
Mace Windu steepled his fingers and sat back. "But how do we *know* he will harm the boy?"
"He thought nothing of almost slitting his throat. He's a terrorist; nothing more."
"And you would propose to cooperate with Xanatos, although you do not know your padawan is injured."
Qui-Gon tried to keep his frustration in check. "Mace, I cannot tell you *how,* but I feel that he is in considerable danger from the Dark Side influence that Xanatos will try to impress upon him."
"If he is going to fall, were it not better than if he falls ten years from now, with an apprentice of his own?"
He calmed himself and willed his voice to do the same, but when he spoke it was in tones of ice. "I do not believe he will fall; my feelings tell me he would be destroyed."
"Qui-Gon, for the time being, the best course of action is to wait."
His eyes met Mace's. "That is the one thing I cannot do." He bowed and made to exit the chamber.
Yoda spoke as Qui-Gon strode past him. "Stand for your foolishness again, the Council will not," he announced.
He turned back, a small smile on his lips. He recognized the words before they were on his lips: they were words Obi-Wan had once used. "You will not be able to stop me, Master." Bowing again, he let the doors shut behind him.
~~~~~~
When Obi-Wan awoke, he was instantly aware of several things: he was cold, weak, and sore; he was lying on a hard and equally cold floor; he was hungry, and he really needed to use the 'fresher.
Then he opened is eyes, and everything he saw confirmed his situation. No windows, no furniture, and the only light came from a dying glow-cell on the ceiling and a crack under the door. He was alone.
He sat up slowly, allowing the dizziness to fade away as he did so. His neck was still sore, but his tunic had been washed free of blood. Who...? If it was Qui-Gon, what were they doing here? He moved to check for his lightsaber, and was met with a sharp sting in his left shoulder. On closer inspection, he saw a half-healed blaster burn through a singed hole in his tunic. "How..."
The door swung open. \\Doorknobs,\\ he realized. \\Those are ancient! How deep in the Underground are we? If we're on Coruscant at all.\\ Xanatos appeared in a rectangle of suddenly blinding light. "You took a hit before I could get you out. Don't you remember?"
He shook his head, as much to reorient himself as to say no. "It's a little hazy," he admitted warily. He didn't trust Xanatos, but he figured he had no choice for the time being. And besides, he needed some things before an explanation. "I need to-"
"First door on the left." He moved over in the doorway to let him through. "There's a towel on the rack if you'd like to clean up."
A million things rushed through his mind, but first things first. He muttered his thanks and closed the door behind him.
He relieved himself and took a quick, cold shower (he doubted there was any hot water, anyway) to clear his head. By the time he had dressed, he had managed to collect his thoughts in some semblance of order.
He stayed in the doorway. Xanatos, seated on the floor, gestured for him to sit, but he refused. "Where's Qui-Gon?"
"You don't remember what happened?"
"I was probably unconscious, thanks to you," he shot back bitterly.
Xanatos took no notice of his retort. "He's dead, Obi-Wan," he said gently. "He died saving you."
He shook his head. "Sith take your mind games. I'd know if he was dead, and he isn't."
"Sit down."
He complied reluctantly. \\He's lying, he can't be telling the truth, I would know, there would have to be some way I would know, he can't be gone, can't be...\\
"I know all about that feeling, the moment when the ties between master and apprentice are severed forever. You would understand it, too, but as you have already said, you were unconscious. The shock of Qui-Gon's death kept you out for the better part of a week."
It was a lie, of course. If Obi-Wan had bothered to wear a chrono, he would have seen that it was only a day later. But he hadn't, and thus had no way to disprove Xanatos's story.
Obi-Wan cast about for his master's presence, but he was either too far away or Xanatos was telling the truth.
The vagabond Jedi's eyes were an oddly clear, deep blue filled with compassion. "I understand you don't trust me. I've certainly given you no reason to, have I? But you must believe me. No, don't get up if you want to hear this. I'll tell you how it happened."
The coldness and fear in Obi-Wan's eyes told Xanatos all he needed to know: the boy was off-guard, but he tried desperately to cling to his disbelief. Xanatos knew he'd have to spin his tale well.
"Your master won our match. I assume you don't recall?"
He shook his head. Everything was blurry from that time on.
"One of the less, ah, sober patrons of the bar knocked over a brandy, and a spark from his friend's cigarra lit it. An alcohol fire alone would not have caused much in the way of damage, but things started catching, and...you understand. The lights short-circuited, I don't remember exactly when. Fearing an ambush, someone opened fire, and others joined in. You were lucky to be hit only once; you were not the target of their attack. A lightsaber can only defend a person so well...Qui-Gon was shot four times when he tried to reach you, but he wouldn't stop. He - he knew he wasn't going to make it, so he told me to save you at whatever cost. I knew then that we had made our peace. I wanted to help him, but he said my greatest duty was to you. Had it not been for the fire, I might have reached him in time, but the smoke...If he wasn't suffocated, he- he bled to death."
His restraint forgotten, Obi-Wan cried silently, his knees curled up to his chest. Xanatos touched his shoulder lightly. "I *am* sorry to have to tell you in this manner; I wish I hadn't the story to tell."
The compassion itself might have been what lit Obi-Wan's fuse. He looked up, slapping Xanatos's hand away. "But it's your fault! If you hadn't damn near slit my throat I wouldn't have needed saving, and *he'd still be here,* damn it!"
"I apologize for the...overzealousness of my employee. You were never meant to-"
"Damn you!" He reached for his lightsaber, not realizing it was no longer there. "You deserve to die for this!"
Xanatos remained seated. "You ought not to do that; you'll overexert yourself," he warned serenely.
Obi-Wan backed against the wall. "You're *lying!* He isn't dead, he can't be..." Darkness threatened at the corners of his vision, then overwhelmed him as he sank to the floor. //AN: yes, this is a *Matrix* take-off.//
Xanatos only watched as the boy succumbed to unconsciousness, then absently covered him with a light blanket. When he awoke, he'd believe everything he'd been told without question.
Then his training could begin.
~~~~~~
"Why the hurry, Jedi?"
Qui-Gon turned quickly to see a tall woman standing right behind him. "Tahl! Good skies, don't sneak up on me like that."
She smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "You haven't answered my question. And where's your apprentice?"
"Xanatos kidnapped him," he said heavily.
She showed no outward sign of surprise, and Qui-Gon wondered with exasperation if this scenario was common enough not to warrant shock anymore. "So the hero is going out to face his darkest fears and save the boy, even at the disapproval of the Council."
"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do. Does it matter that much to you?"
"Well, in all the good stories, the hero has a partner. Andur and Nomi Sunrider, Da-Nee and Ba-Lee...You may have need of help before this is over."
"Tahl, I'm sure you could help me-"
"But I'm blind," she finished. "I'm blind, and you think I'll need looking after. Is that it, Qui-Gon?"
"Yes," he admitted softly. It was useless to mince words.
She sighed, weary of having to prove herself. "When you have it, is it easy to depend on sight above all other senses, even the Force. Yet when you're without it, you soon find that it was not really...necessary at all." She moved towards him surely, and within ten seconds had him pinned to the wall. "See?" she asked, chuckling at her own choice of words as she released him.
"This is entirely against the will of the Council. You don't know how much trouble we'll be in when we return." He didn't add *if we return,* but the meaning was understood anyway.
"He's in danger, Qui." //AN: That's pronounced Kwiy, not Kwee and is a nickname. Actually, I just got tired of writing his name over and over.// "We both understand that, and I'm afraid it may take more than one person to get him out of there alive. I know it's dangerous; perhaps you think it would be more so for me than you. But your position is the most dangerous of all: the eye can be deceived, but the mind sees clues before they are truly visible. Trust me, and let me come with you."
He looked into her sightless, knowing eyes and wondered what the two of them might once have shared. She was strong enough to match him, and there was no doubt that the two were very close. But any feelings of love he might ever have felt for anyone died with Xanatos's falling. It was too easy to lose someone you were close to. He nodded (but she couldn't see that) and spoke. "All right, Tahl, maybe I do need help. I would be honored to have you with me."
~~~~~~
Obi-Wan didn't want to wake up: if he closed his eyes and didn't think, everything would go away, he'd be back at the Temple, and Qui-Gon would be alive.
But he had always been taught to face his fears, so he finally opened his eyes. Xanatos was seated beside him; he refused to look at the elder man as he sat up.
"I do apologize," Xanatos murmured.
Obi-Wan didn't reply. Xanatos handed him a cup of hot broth, which he took but didn't drink.
Xanatos paused with his own cup halfway to his lips and smiled. "If I had wanted to kill you, I would not have bothered to rescue you in the first place." He drank a little, and Obi-Wan followed.
"I want to go back to the Temple," he announced firmly. "Even - even if Qui-Gon is dead, they wouldn't turn me away."
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that."
"What? Why not?"
"Because your master entrusted you to my care, not that of the Council."
"They aren't going to harm me! What are you so afraid of?"
"They would not allow me to train you, were you to return."
"So you hold me hostage in order to teach me--talk about a captive audience."
"I could do worse, considering you exposed Offworld. And then what you did to my little brother..."
"You had a brother?"
"Yes, *had* being the operative word. The obituary said he slipped and broke his neck on the rocks under the waterfall...but of course you and I know better, don't we?"
After Qui-Gon's death, it seemed nothing would ever truly surprise him again; anything seemed possible, even probable. "Bruck. *He* was your brother."
"Yes. So you see, if I can put past incidents behind me, surely you can do the same. It's true, Qui-Gon and I have had our differences, but when something more important comes up, we can put our issues aside and work together." His gaze seemed to pierce the core of Obi-Wan's soul. "You were that more important thing."
Tears sprang to his eyes, but he managed to hold them back this time.
"You ought to get ready; we're leaving in two hours."
"Leaving? Where?"
"Somewhere secluded, quiet. The myriad minds of Coruscant are a constant distraction, a background noise we can do without."
It never occurred to Obi-Wan that he might defy Xanatos. Like it or not, he had saved Obi-Wan's life, and that warranted a fair amount of gratitude. He snorted. "It's not as though I have much to pack, anyway."
~~~~~~
"You do know we could face an official censure and be banned from the Order for this, right?"
Qui-Gon didn't hesitate at all. "I'm willing to take the risk. As for yourself, you can always claim that I kidnapped you."
She laughed, the sound echoing off the corridor walls. "They'd probably believe me, too."
"Are you ready?"
"Do we plan to be gone long? I have all that I need." She indicated her small pack, the shiv and lightsaber at her waist, her cloak and boots.
He winced. "Tahl, about the lightsaber..."
"I can handle it, I've been practicing. Yes, I'm sure, so don't bother to ask. We could face off right here, but that would draw undue attention from the Masters..."
"...who wouldn't stop us anyway," he put in.
"Yoda or Mace, no; they know better than to mess with your crusades. I don't think Depa would, either. She's more inclined to let the future run its course. Some of the Lower Council members, though, might put up a fight."
"If you're so concerned with being caught, perhaps we'd better hurry."
"I'm sorry, I know you're anxious to find Obi-Wan. Have you been able to sense him recently?"
"Off and on. I'll find him one second, and the next it's as though he's being...blocked, somehow. What I *do* sense is a great deal of uncertainty. I'm afraid this might make it easier for Xanatos to influence him."
"Then let's go. Where does the Force send us?"
"Lower Coruscant," he said slowly. "It will be risky."
"Skip the warning, Qui. I know this won't be easy. Now, do you want to save your apprentice or not?"
"Forgive me, Tahl. Let us go."
Together, the two Jedi stepped out of the Temple into the afternoon sunlight.
~~~~~~
Xanatos woke his new apprentice with a tap on the door. Relieved from his restless doze, Obi-Wan let him in.
"We dock in half an hour," he said briskly, still standing in the doorway. "You are not to say anything to anyone, as your Council may have alerted authorities that you are 'missing.'" The sharp note in his voice left no room for argument.
"Meanwhile," he continued, "I have something to return to you." He produced Obi-Wan's lightsaber from a pocket and handed it to him. The young Jedi took it, hefting it gently.
"It feels...different," he said, frowning. "Not much, but enough."
"That is because it is not your own." Obi-Wan glanced up questioningly, but Xanatos ignored him. "Yours was damaged in the, er, melee. I recreated it in the most detail possible. The imbalance is due to the single crystal, which I used in place of your former double ones. Therefore, your saber has only one setting."
\\He doesn't trust me enough to give me a kill switch,\\ Obi-Wan thought. \\At least Qui-Gon let me add one, even if he never let me use it.\\
"While I am capable of making one with a dual mode, I feel that Qui-Gon has been preventing you from achieving your full potential."
Obi-Wan thumbed the blade to life, the same blue shade as his first one.
"You new lightsaber has *only* a kill setting."
He looked up, nearly dropping it in his lap in surprise. //Ow...//
\\No, I was wrong about him. He really does trust me.\\ "A kill setting? But most Padawans aren't allowed to remove the low-power mode until they're Knights."
"I don't believe you are like 'most Padawans,' Obi-Wan. I believe you have considerably more power than they."
A small part of his mind realized that it was flattery, that he was trying to make Obi-Wan trust him. But it was so much easier to ignore that, to give in to the hypnotic tone of Xanatos's voice. "I still don't know-" he protested feebly, but his resistance to the idea was already broken.
"Listen: You keep the lightsaber and if you don't feel you're ready to use it, I'll replace it with a dual-mode version. But somehow," he added on his way out the door, "I don't really think you will."
~~~~~~
"He went after the boy."
"Thought you for a moment he would not, Mace?" Yoda replied. The two sat with Depa Billaba in one of the smaller Council rooms.
"Not realistically," he admitted, taking a sip of coffeine. "He has too strong a will to rein in."
"His will is what gets him in trouble," Depa put in softly. "How many times have we been on the verge of offering him a Council seat, only to see him defy our orders again and again? I'm beginning to think he doesn't *want* to be on the Council."
Mace chuckled. "He wouldn't be able to stand it. The comfort, the authority, the *safety* -- those things mean nothing to him."
"Foolhardy may he be, at times, but always brave he is," Yoda added defensively. "I would not choose for my apprentice one who so easily was browbeaten."
Depa laughed ringingly. "If Qui-Gon took to being browbeaten, he would never have *survived* being your apprentice!"
"True it is," he mused. "Give in to my apprentices, I do not."
"But still," Mace interjected more seriously, "we cannot allow him to run amok in this manner. He deliberately defies our orders whenever it suits him."
"Not 'whenever it suits him;' he always has a good reason," Depa protested.
"But right, Master Windu is: done, something must be."
She pressed her lips together. "Yoda, you're speaking of official censure, here. It's terribly grave...and if we removed him, we would be casting off the boy, as well."
"Know this, I do. But his own life to risk was this time not enough. Taken Mistress Tahl with him, he has."
A moment of shocked silence met this revelation.
"He wouldn't."
Mace's voice was grave. "That's beyond foolish, she can't even defend herself! Skies, if he gets her killed, a Council censure will be the least of his worries. He'll be tried for murder by the Galactic Senate!"
"Blind she may be, but helpless? I think not." Depa leaned forward, prepared to defend her colleague. "I've helped her practice with her lightsaber, and damned if she isn't better now than she was when she could see! In battle, sight can be more of a bane than a boon. Her blindness allows her a sort of 'tunnel vision,' so to speak. She can take care of herself."
"Know that, we do, but if hurt she is, expected to understand, the Senate cannot be."
"There is nothing to be done for now; but when he returns, he could face the strongest penalties we can serve."
Depa checked her chrono and sighed. "I'd love to stay and chat, but there's a Council meeting in two minutes. Shall we bring this to a vote?"
Mace stood. "I don't think that's necessary; he will only be censured if Tahl in injured. He is responsible for her as far as this crusade is concerned. Now, if you care to accompany me, we have a meeting to attend."
~~~~~~
There was little to see at night, wherever they were. Actually, Obi-Wan doubted there was anything to see in the daytime, either. They passed no people or dwellings of any kind. For all he knew, no sentient had ever trodden this land before.
But that couldn't be, because Xanatos let him to a low, sprawling shelter at the bottom of a crater-like impression. At first it looked flimsy and prefab, but as the mist cleared away he saw that it was not a shelter, but a *house* -- a large one.
He noted that Xanatos used a fingerprint scanner to open the front door, and somehow he doubted that he would be able to work it. \\Makes any escape plan just about impossible,\\ he though remotely. Then, looking around at the nothingness of the valley: \\As if there was anyplace to run to.\\
Glow-cells illuminated a large central area scattered with blocks and ladders and all the other training equipment needed by a Jedi trainee.
Xanatos opened a door which, thankfully, had no scanner. "This room is to be yours," he said coldly. "I trust it will be satisfactory for one so used to Temple luxury?" Obi-Wan didn't reply, and Xanatos left silently.
He sighed and walked in. The room wasn't exactly spacious, but it was large enough to hold a bed, a small dresser, and a door to one side that was probably a 'fresher. The dresser would be empty, at least; he'd brought literally nothing with him. He unhooked his lightsaber and slid the top drawer open, meaning to leave it there until morning.
He started. There were clothes in there; clothes that would fit him! He opened the rest of the drawers, less and less surprised to see that all of them held clothes. *Xanatos had known he was coming.* It was something to think about, for sure, but not tonight. He held back a yawn. Gods, how had he gotten so tired? He kicked off his boots, pulled off his tunic and threw it over the bedpost, flopped onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
~~~~~~
"They were here."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly. "Yes, not long ago. But they're not here anymore. They've vanished." He clenched his fists in frustration, the stench of Lower Coruscant pervading the small tenement.
Tahl caught the note of despair in his voice and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "Not *vanished.* They may have left no physical clues behind, but you can follow what they do not know they left. Concentrate."
He knelt on the floor, tracing a small bloodstain on the rotted floorboards. Obi-Wan was alive, and Xanatos had brought him here...but from here, to where?
He closed his eyes again, searching for any metaphysical sign his padawan might have left. He found pain, fear, fury, despair, a million conflicting emotions, all in the space of a few seconds. Then the faintest beginnings of trust. Just a flicker, but it was there. *Obi-Wan trusted Xanatos!* The boy had put his faith in the kidnapper, the enemy: why?
Images, snatches of conversation.
The pool hall darkening around him, a dim room in the tenement where Qui-Gon now stood.
*"He's dead, Obi-Wan."*
Darkness again.
*Bruck was Xanatos's brother!*
Giving up, resigning himself to his fate.
Leaving for somewhere, a deserted planet. Grayness, scruffy grass, mountains in the distance.
\\But there are a thousand planets like that,\\ Qui-Gon thought. \\I can't search each one for him!\\
Cold words, a warm room, and finally, sleep again.
Stars turning outside a small window as dawn approached.
And a particular one that never moved...
His eyes snapped open. "I think I know where he is."
~~~~~~
Author: Tyger
Author E-mail: amidalakenobi@hotmail.com
Spoilers: the Jedi Apprentice series
Rated PG for swearing and (mostly) non-fatal violence.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns everything in this story, except the bartender and the mercenaries. But as they have three lines, max, they don't really count. I am making no profit, and no infringement is intended. You COULD sue me, I suppose, but all you'd get would be a slice of week-old birthday cake and some gum wrappers.
Author's Note: \\...\\ denotes thoughts or Force-messages, //...// denotes my inane & irrelevant comments. Small breaks (~~~) denote changes in point of view; (~~) denote changes of scene. Confused? Me too.
This was written before "Day of Reckoning," but takes place about 4 years later. I know most of what happens here is negated by the newest books, but I spent WAY too much time on this to blow it all to hell.
Eight Ball
Tyger
The ball slid slowly towards the corner. It teetered on the edge for a few seconds, and the opposing teenager fleetingly thought that he might have a chance. Then it rolled over and into the pocket.
Obi-Wan Kenobi groaned, a sound barely audible over the chatter of the pool hall's other patrons. "Good skies, that's three straight games! Don't you ever lose?"
"I try not to," his master replied calmly, easily dropping Obi-Wan's remaining hover-spheres into the pockets. "Another game, Padawan?"
"You'd think I'd learn when to quit," he replied, shaking his head, "but not yet. Rack 'em up."
"You boys want a drink?" The bartender, a female Twi-lek, sidled up behind Qui-Gon.
"Not now, thank you." He leaned languidly on the cue stick as Obi-Wan scattered the rack.
"Oh come now," she purred in his ear. "Surely after all this time, you're a little thirsty. And your son over there looks parched, too. Why don't you buy him a round?"
"Perhaps later," he responded, gently disentangling himself from the lekku twisting amorously around his neck.
"Oh, all right." She sighed and turned to throw out a quarreling pair of Chadra-Fan.
Obi-Wan doubled over laughing. "She was all over you! 'Why don't you buy him a round?'" he imitated, still snickering. "You have a way of attracting female attention, don't you?"
"Oh, come off it," he said, mock-irritated, as he turned back to the game. "Whose shot?"
"Yours," he replied smugly. "You have solids."
He saw that three of the striped spheres already rested in their pockets. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Three at a clip; you're improving. Now, if we could just work on your arrogance a little..." He knocked four in, prompting another good-natured groan from his padawan.
"When I do something good, you just go one better. How am I ever going to win?"
"Patience," he replied as Obi-Wan shot, missed, and swore. "Patience, and quite a bit of experience."
A cool breeze fluttered in with another guest. This one was dressed in a hooded black cloak to ward off the light rain. He strode straight to the game, as though he'd expected to meet the two Jedi here.
"Still cheating your apprentices out of a fair match, are you, Qui-Gon?"
The Jedi froze, his cue stick still poised on the table. He looked up into a pair of cool, taunting blue eyes. "Xanatos," he murmured. Qui-Gon straightened up slowly, gauging the other as he threw back the hood over his black hair.
"What reason have you to be here?" the elder Jedi challenged.
"You always were the suspicious one," he replied conversationally. "I have a proposition to make, a challenge of sorts."
"What do you want?" (Across the table, Obi-Wan slid a hand to his saber hilt.)
"Merely a game of pool," Xanatos continued lightly. "A gentleman's pastime. I always wondered if a day would come when I could beat you, and it appears I now have the opportunity to find out."
"What's your deal? I know it can't be that simple."
"The stakes, my friend; there are always stakes." He laughed softly as the whole silent barroom moved at once; a dozen blasters at various booths and tables were suddenly aimed at the two in the center of the room.
Qui-Gon saw the man move in behind his apprentice; he brought his saber up, but too late. Caught off-guard and defenseless, Obi-Wan felt the cold kiss of a vibroblade against his throat. His master lowered the weapon reluctantly. "I tire of these games, Xanatos. Name your price, I'll pay it."
"You insist on misunderstanding. It's a simple bet: if you win, I'll return the boy to you unharmed. If I win, he is mine."
"Yours?" he said hollowly, dread flooding his veins.
"Yes, mine," he repeated, like a parent explaining something to a very small child. "I have always desired an apprentice, and I think your current flunky will do quite well." He nodded to the man holding Obi-Wan, who led the captive to a chair and produced a length of synth-rope.
The bartender stepped in, this time angrily. "There will be no gunplay, no blood, and no damage to my property. Everyone must holster their weapons *now.* Do you understand?"
"Just put it on my bill, Tira," Xanatos replied absently. "I've waited too long for this."
"You've taken the poor kid *hostage!* I can't let you do that."
"I grow weary of this," he growled. "Pradu, Ru'haal: gag her. Put her with the boy." Two of the dozen mercs situated around the room moved gleefully in on her.
"Leave her be," Qui-Gon commanded. "She has no quarrel with you."
He laughed. "Ah, Qui-Gon. Protector of innocents, children...and bartenders. Gods, do you never stop? I hardly think you're in a position to give me orders, hm?"
"Let her go," he insisted firmly. "Then we can deal with this alone."
"Temper, temper, old friend. I'm sure you feel you are justified in this stubborn if futile stand, but your apprentice may harbor other feelings."
He gestured to the snared padawan, and the mercenary holding the knife brought it a little closer to Obi-Wan's throat, slicing delicately, brutally into his jugular. He tried not to cry out as warm blood ran down his neck.
Xanatos smiled thinly. "An ultimatum. We have perhaps fifteen minutes until he dies of blood loss. If the game is not over in that time, Master...we both lose."
Qui-Gon shot his apprentice a look of concern that bordered on fear. But Obi-Wan met his gaze steadily. \\Don't worry about me. Just play.\\
The Jedi nodded and gestured to Xanatos. "Your break," he said tightly.
~~~
Obi-Wan watched the scene calmly, fully aware of the blood now soaking his tunic. He had tried to heal the wound with minimal success; if nothing else, he had bought time. Not much, maybe another fifteen minutes. So this was what it was like to be a slave; not knowing who your master would be ten minutes from now, or even if you would be alive by that time. Great, so now he had thirty minutes to live, but surely his master could finish the game in that amount of time.
Then came the nagging little voice in the back of his mind: \\Of course the match would be over, but who would win?\\ Xanatos was good, better than anyone Obi-Wan had seen; but Qui-Gon was the best, and no one could beat the best.
Could they?
Five minutes passed, then ten. He resisted the urge to fidget, to try and break free of his fetters. He knew he had to conserve his energy and keep his heart rate low; it was the only way he was going to make it.
~~~
Xanatos dropped another ball into the pocket, then set up his next shot. He had two left, Qui-Gon still had five. "Getting old, Master?" he taunted. "I've never beaten you like this before. Are you losing your touch?"
"Not hardly." The cue ball tapped one of his gently--four more to go.
~~~
Obi-Wan knew he was in trouble. It was becoming a struggle to stay alert, and his head kept trying to fall against his chest. At times it was hard to breathe. He was losing track of the game because the room would occasionally tilt and blur. \\Hurry, Qui-Gon. Please hurry.\\
~~~
The Jedi risked a glance at his apprentice. He was shocked by the amount of blood on Obi-Wan's tunic, by the pallor of his face and his glazed expression. Fired by determination -- he was *not* going to lose another padawan -- he evened the match: now each had only to hit the eight ball in to claim victory.
The merc with the knife checked Obi-Wan's pulse. "We're losing him," he warned Xanatos. It had been nineteen minutes.
His concentration broken, Qui-Gon missed the eight ball entirely. The cue slid to rest at a perfect angle for his opponent. Xanatos laughed, and the Jedi Master's heart sank. There was going to be a fight if he made this shot; Qui-Gon flat-out refused to give up on his padawan. Obi-Wan could no longer stand on his own, so he would have to carry the boy and wield a lightsaber at the same time. It would not be easy.
"Eight ball in the corner pocket," Xanatos announced triumphantly. He tuned everything out--he couldn't possibly miss this shot.
And he didn't. A cheer rose from the mercenaries, as they'd be paid quite nicely for this one. Underneath the noise, a second small tap was heard: the sound of another ball falling.
Despite the danger his apprentice was currently facing, Qui-Gon found himself grinning. "No, Xanatos, you lose."
"What...?"
"You scratched. I win."
"I can't have-" But he had. "No!"
The lights went out as though snuffed, and blaster fire spattered the air where Qui-Gon had just been. He yanked out his lightsaber as he ran to Obi-Wan. A heartbeat too late; only a coil of blood-soaked rope lay across the chair. Laughter floated across the dimness.
He turned, and the green blade illuminated a grinning Xanatos, carrying Obi-Wan's limp form in his arms. "I win this round, old Master." Then he was gone in a crash of breaking glass.
By the time Qui-Gon made it to the door, Xanatos was out of sight.
He had wanted nothing more than to chase him down, to find him and kill
him no matter what the cost. He could sense that Obi-Wan was still alive, but his presence was waning and too weak to trace.
One thought almost reassured him: after all the trouble his wayward apprentice had gone to get Obi-Wan, he was sure the teen was in no immediate danger. That left him time to think of something.
The mercenaries had cut and run as soon as Xanatos had left, typical of fringe scum. He untied Tira, who promptly pulled her blaster on him, all romantic interest suddenly gone. "You're under arrest for cooperating with terrorists and damaging private property."
He looked her hard in the eye. "Do you really want to kill me with that?"
One head-tail twitched as she lowered the weapon. "No. But wait, I need your name, at least. You'll be a witness as to the creep who did this."
But Qui-Gon simply clipped his saber to his belt and walked alone into the rain.
~~~~~~
The fact that they were still on Coruscant unnerved Qui-Gon rather than reassuring him. The galaxy was limited, and had been mapped well, but the bowels of the planet-wide city lay unexplored without boundaries.
When a life other than his own was at stake, he found it was easier to ignore his stubborn sense of independence. He went before the Jedi Council to make his proposal.
"Hmm, unforeseen this is," mused Yoda. "But dangerous, is it, I wonder?"
"Master, Xanatos has proved many times to us that he is volatile and unstable. It will take little to cause him to lose his temper with Obi-Wan."
Mace Windu steepled his fingers and sat back. "But how do we *know* he will harm the boy?"
"He thought nothing of almost slitting his throat. He's a terrorist; nothing more."
"And you would propose to cooperate with Xanatos, although you do not know your padawan is injured."
Qui-Gon tried to keep his frustration in check. "Mace, I cannot tell you *how,* but I feel that he is in considerable danger from the Dark Side influence that Xanatos will try to impress upon him."
"If he is going to fall, were it not better than if he falls ten years from now, with an apprentice of his own?"
He calmed himself and willed his voice to do the same, but when he spoke it was in tones of ice. "I do not believe he will fall; my feelings tell me he would be destroyed."
"Qui-Gon, for the time being, the best course of action is to wait."
His eyes met Mace's. "That is the one thing I cannot do." He bowed and made to exit the chamber.
Yoda spoke as Qui-Gon strode past him. "Stand for your foolishness again, the Council will not," he announced.
He turned back, a small smile on his lips. He recognized the words before they were on his lips: they were words Obi-Wan had once used. "You will not be able to stop me, Master." Bowing again, he let the doors shut behind him.
~~~~~~
When Obi-Wan awoke, he was instantly aware of several things: he was cold, weak, and sore; he was lying on a hard and equally cold floor; he was hungry, and he really needed to use the 'fresher.
Then he opened is eyes, and everything he saw confirmed his situation. No windows, no furniture, and the only light came from a dying glow-cell on the ceiling and a crack under the door. He was alone.
He sat up slowly, allowing the dizziness to fade away as he did so. His neck was still sore, but his tunic had been washed free of blood. Who...? If it was Qui-Gon, what were they doing here? He moved to check for his lightsaber, and was met with a sharp sting in his left shoulder. On closer inspection, he saw a half-healed blaster burn through a singed hole in his tunic. "How..."
The door swung open. \\Doorknobs,\\ he realized. \\Those are ancient! How deep in the Underground are we? If we're on Coruscant at all.\\ Xanatos appeared in a rectangle of suddenly blinding light. "You took a hit before I could get you out. Don't you remember?"
He shook his head, as much to reorient himself as to say no. "It's a little hazy," he admitted warily. He didn't trust Xanatos, but he figured he had no choice for the time being. And besides, he needed some things before an explanation. "I need to-"
"First door on the left." He moved over in the doorway to let him through. "There's a towel on the rack if you'd like to clean up."
A million things rushed through his mind, but first things first. He muttered his thanks and closed the door behind him.
He relieved himself and took a quick, cold shower (he doubted there was any hot water, anyway) to clear his head. By the time he had dressed, he had managed to collect his thoughts in some semblance of order.
He stayed in the doorway. Xanatos, seated on the floor, gestured for him to sit, but he refused. "Where's Qui-Gon?"
"You don't remember what happened?"
"I was probably unconscious, thanks to you," he shot back bitterly.
Xanatos took no notice of his retort. "He's dead, Obi-Wan," he said gently. "He died saving you."
He shook his head. "Sith take your mind games. I'd know if he was dead, and he isn't."
"Sit down."
He complied reluctantly. \\He's lying, he can't be telling the truth, I would know, there would have to be some way I would know, he can't be gone, can't be...\\
"I know all about that feeling, the moment when the ties between master and apprentice are severed forever. You would understand it, too, but as you have already said, you were unconscious. The shock of Qui-Gon's death kept you out for the better part of a week."
It was a lie, of course. If Obi-Wan had bothered to wear a chrono, he would have seen that it was only a day later. But he hadn't, and thus had no way to disprove Xanatos's story.
Obi-Wan cast about for his master's presence, but he was either too far away or Xanatos was telling the truth.
The vagabond Jedi's eyes were an oddly clear, deep blue filled with compassion. "I understand you don't trust me. I've certainly given you no reason to, have I? But you must believe me. No, don't get up if you want to hear this. I'll tell you how it happened."
The coldness and fear in Obi-Wan's eyes told Xanatos all he needed to know: the boy was off-guard, but he tried desperately to cling to his disbelief. Xanatos knew he'd have to spin his tale well.
"Your master won our match. I assume you don't recall?"
He shook his head. Everything was blurry from that time on.
"One of the less, ah, sober patrons of the bar knocked over a brandy, and a spark from his friend's cigarra lit it. An alcohol fire alone would not have caused much in the way of damage, but things started catching, and...you understand. The lights short-circuited, I don't remember exactly when. Fearing an ambush, someone opened fire, and others joined in. You were lucky to be hit only once; you were not the target of their attack. A lightsaber can only defend a person so well...Qui-Gon was shot four times when he tried to reach you, but he wouldn't stop. He - he knew he wasn't going to make it, so he told me to save you at whatever cost. I knew then that we had made our peace. I wanted to help him, but he said my greatest duty was to you. Had it not been for the fire, I might have reached him in time, but the smoke...If he wasn't suffocated, he- he bled to death."
His restraint forgotten, Obi-Wan cried silently, his knees curled up to his chest. Xanatos touched his shoulder lightly. "I *am* sorry to have to tell you in this manner; I wish I hadn't the story to tell."
The compassion itself might have been what lit Obi-Wan's fuse. He looked up, slapping Xanatos's hand away. "But it's your fault! If you hadn't damn near slit my throat I wouldn't have needed saving, and *he'd still be here,* damn it!"
"I apologize for the...overzealousness of my employee. You were never meant to-"
"Damn you!" He reached for his lightsaber, not realizing it was no longer there. "You deserve to die for this!"
Xanatos remained seated. "You ought not to do that; you'll overexert yourself," he warned serenely.
Obi-Wan backed against the wall. "You're *lying!* He isn't dead, he can't be..." Darkness threatened at the corners of his vision, then overwhelmed him as he sank to the floor. //AN: yes, this is a *Matrix* take-off.//
Xanatos only watched as the boy succumbed to unconsciousness, then absently covered him with a light blanket. When he awoke, he'd believe everything he'd been told without question.
Then his training could begin.
~~~~~~
"Why the hurry, Jedi?"
Qui-Gon turned quickly to see a tall woman standing right behind him. "Tahl! Good skies, don't sneak up on me like that."
She smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "You haven't answered my question. And where's your apprentice?"
"Xanatos kidnapped him," he said heavily.
She showed no outward sign of surprise, and Qui-Gon wondered with exasperation if this scenario was common enough not to warrant shock anymore. "So the hero is going out to face his darkest fears and save the boy, even at the disapproval of the Council."
"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do. Does it matter that much to you?"
"Well, in all the good stories, the hero has a partner. Andur and Nomi Sunrider, Da-Nee and Ba-Lee...You may have need of help before this is over."
"Tahl, I'm sure you could help me-"
"But I'm blind," she finished. "I'm blind, and you think I'll need looking after. Is that it, Qui-Gon?"
"Yes," he admitted softly. It was useless to mince words.
She sighed, weary of having to prove herself. "When you have it, is it easy to depend on sight above all other senses, even the Force. Yet when you're without it, you soon find that it was not really...necessary at all." She moved towards him surely, and within ten seconds had him pinned to the wall. "See?" she asked, chuckling at her own choice of words as she released him.
"This is entirely against the will of the Council. You don't know how much trouble we'll be in when we return." He didn't add *if we return,* but the meaning was understood anyway.
"He's in danger, Qui." //AN: That's pronounced Kwiy, not Kwee and is a nickname. Actually, I just got tired of writing his name over and over.// "We both understand that, and I'm afraid it may take more than one person to get him out of there alive. I know it's dangerous; perhaps you think it would be more so for me than you. But your position is the most dangerous of all: the eye can be deceived, but the mind sees clues before they are truly visible. Trust me, and let me come with you."
He looked into her sightless, knowing eyes and wondered what the two of them might once have shared. She was strong enough to match him, and there was no doubt that the two were very close. But any feelings of love he might ever have felt for anyone died with Xanatos's falling. It was too easy to lose someone you were close to. He nodded (but she couldn't see that) and spoke. "All right, Tahl, maybe I do need help. I would be honored to have you with me."
~~~~~~
Obi-Wan didn't want to wake up: if he closed his eyes and didn't think, everything would go away, he'd be back at the Temple, and Qui-Gon would be alive.
But he had always been taught to face his fears, so he finally opened his eyes. Xanatos was seated beside him; he refused to look at the elder man as he sat up.
"I do apologize," Xanatos murmured.
Obi-Wan didn't reply. Xanatos handed him a cup of hot broth, which he took but didn't drink.
Xanatos paused with his own cup halfway to his lips and smiled. "If I had wanted to kill you, I would not have bothered to rescue you in the first place." He drank a little, and Obi-Wan followed.
"I want to go back to the Temple," he announced firmly. "Even - even if Qui-Gon is dead, they wouldn't turn me away."
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that."
"What? Why not?"
"Because your master entrusted you to my care, not that of the Council."
"They aren't going to harm me! What are you so afraid of?"
"They would not allow me to train you, were you to return."
"So you hold me hostage in order to teach me--talk about a captive audience."
"I could do worse, considering you exposed Offworld. And then what you did to my little brother..."
"You had a brother?"
"Yes, *had* being the operative word. The obituary said he slipped and broke his neck on the rocks under the waterfall...but of course you and I know better, don't we?"
After Qui-Gon's death, it seemed nothing would ever truly surprise him again; anything seemed possible, even probable. "Bruck. *He* was your brother."
"Yes. So you see, if I can put past incidents behind me, surely you can do the same. It's true, Qui-Gon and I have had our differences, but when something more important comes up, we can put our issues aside and work together." His gaze seemed to pierce the core of Obi-Wan's soul. "You were that more important thing."
Tears sprang to his eyes, but he managed to hold them back this time.
"You ought to get ready; we're leaving in two hours."
"Leaving? Where?"
"Somewhere secluded, quiet. The myriad minds of Coruscant are a constant distraction, a background noise we can do without."
It never occurred to Obi-Wan that he might defy Xanatos. Like it or not, he had saved Obi-Wan's life, and that warranted a fair amount of gratitude. He snorted. "It's not as though I have much to pack, anyway."
~~~~~~
"You do know we could face an official censure and be banned from the Order for this, right?"
Qui-Gon didn't hesitate at all. "I'm willing to take the risk. As for yourself, you can always claim that I kidnapped you."
She laughed, the sound echoing off the corridor walls. "They'd probably believe me, too."
"Are you ready?"
"Do we plan to be gone long? I have all that I need." She indicated her small pack, the shiv and lightsaber at her waist, her cloak and boots.
He winced. "Tahl, about the lightsaber..."
"I can handle it, I've been practicing. Yes, I'm sure, so don't bother to ask. We could face off right here, but that would draw undue attention from the Masters..."
"...who wouldn't stop us anyway," he put in.
"Yoda or Mace, no; they know better than to mess with your crusades. I don't think Depa would, either. She's more inclined to let the future run its course. Some of the Lower Council members, though, might put up a fight."
"If you're so concerned with being caught, perhaps we'd better hurry."
"I'm sorry, I know you're anxious to find Obi-Wan. Have you been able to sense him recently?"
"Off and on. I'll find him one second, and the next it's as though he's being...blocked, somehow. What I *do* sense is a great deal of uncertainty. I'm afraid this might make it easier for Xanatos to influence him."
"Then let's go. Where does the Force send us?"
"Lower Coruscant," he said slowly. "It will be risky."
"Skip the warning, Qui. I know this won't be easy. Now, do you want to save your apprentice or not?"
"Forgive me, Tahl. Let us go."
Together, the two Jedi stepped out of the Temple into the afternoon sunlight.
~~~~~~
Xanatos woke his new apprentice with a tap on the door. Relieved from his restless doze, Obi-Wan let him in.
"We dock in half an hour," he said briskly, still standing in the doorway. "You are not to say anything to anyone, as your Council may have alerted authorities that you are 'missing.'" The sharp note in his voice left no room for argument.
"Meanwhile," he continued, "I have something to return to you." He produced Obi-Wan's lightsaber from a pocket and handed it to him. The young Jedi took it, hefting it gently.
"It feels...different," he said, frowning. "Not much, but enough."
"That is because it is not your own." Obi-Wan glanced up questioningly, but Xanatos ignored him. "Yours was damaged in the, er, melee. I recreated it in the most detail possible. The imbalance is due to the single crystal, which I used in place of your former double ones. Therefore, your saber has only one setting."
\\He doesn't trust me enough to give me a kill switch,\\ Obi-Wan thought. \\At least Qui-Gon let me add one, even if he never let me use it.\\
"While I am capable of making one with a dual mode, I feel that Qui-Gon has been preventing you from achieving your full potential."
Obi-Wan thumbed the blade to life, the same blue shade as his first one.
"You new lightsaber has *only* a kill setting."
He looked up, nearly dropping it in his lap in surprise. //Ow...//
\\No, I was wrong about him. He really does trust me.\\ "A kill setting? But most Padawans aren't allowed to remove the low-power mode until they're Knights."
"I don't believe you are like 'most Padawans,' Obi-Wan. I believe you have considerably more power than they."
A small part of his mind realized that it was flattery, that he was trying to make Obi-Wan trust him. But it was so much easier to ignore that, to give in to the hypnotic tone of Xanatos's voice. "I still don't know-" he protested feebly, but his resistance to the idea was already broken.
"Listen: You keep the lightsaber and if you don't feel you're ready to use it, I'll replace it with a dual-mode version. But somehow," he added on his way out the door, "I don't really think you will."
~~~~~~
"He went after the boy."
"Thought you for a moment he would not, Mace?" Yoda replied. The two sat with Depa Billaba in one of the smaller Council rooms.
"Not realistically," he admitted, taking a sip of coffeine. "He has too strong a will to rein in."
"His will is what gets him in trouble," Depa put in softly. "How many times have we been on the verge of offering him a Council seat, only to see him defy our orders again and again? I'm beginning to think he doesn't *want* to be on the Council."
Mace chuckled. "He wouldn't be able to stand it. The comfort, the authority, the *safety* -- those things mean nothing to him."
"Foolhardy may he be, at times, but always brave he is," Yoda added defensively. "I would not choose for my apprentice one who so easily was browbeaten."
Depa laughed ringingly. "If Qui-Gon took to being browbeaten, he would never have *survived* being your apprentice!"
"True it is," he mused. "Give in to my apprentices, I do not."
"But still," Mace interjected more seriously, "we cannot allow him to run amok in this manner. He deliberately defies our orders whenever it suits him."
"Not 'whenever it suits him;' he always has a good reason," Depa protested.
"But right, Master Windu is: done, something must be."
She pressed her lips together. "Yoda, you're speaking of official censure, here. It's terribly grave...and if we removed him, we would be casting off the boy, as well."
"Know this, I do. But his own life to risk was this time not enough. Taken Mistress Tahl with him, he has."
A moment of shocked silence met this revelation.
"He wouldn't."
Mace's voice was grave. "That's beyond foolish, she can't even defend herself! Skies, if he gets her killed, a Council censure will be the least of his worries. He'll be tried for murder by the Galactic Senate!"
"Blind she may be, but helpless? I think not." Depa leaned forward, prepared to defend her colleague. "I've helped her practice with her lightsaber, and damned if she isn't better now than she was when she could see! In battle, sight can be more of a bane than a boon. Her blindness allows her a sort of 'tunnel vision,' so to speak. She can take care of herself."
"Know that, we do, but if hurt she is, expected to understand, the Senate cannot be."
"There is nothing to be done for now; but when he returns, he could face the strongest penalties we can serve."
Depa checked her chrono and sighed. "I'd love to stay and chat, but there's a Council meeting in two minutes. Shall we bring this to a vote?"
Mace stood. "I don't think that's necessary; he will only be censured if Tahl in injured. He is responsible for her as far as this crusade is concerned. Now, if you care to accompany me, we have a meeting to attend."
~~~~~~
There was little to see at night, wherever they were. Actually, Obi-Wan doubted there was anything to see in the daytime, either. They passed no people or dwellings of any kind. For all he knew, no sentient had ever trodden this land before.
But that couldn't be, because Xanatos let him to a low, sprawling shelter at the bottom of a crater-like impression. At first it looked flimsy and prefab, but as the mist cleared away he saw that it was not a shelter, but a *house* -- a large one.
He noted that Xanatos used a fingerprint scanner to open the front door, and somehow he doubted that he would be able to work it. \\Makes any escape plan just about impossible,\\ he though remotely. Then, looking around at the nothingness of the valley: \\As if there was anyplace to run to.\\
Glow-cells illuminated a large central area scattered with blocks and ladders and all the other training equipment needed by a Jedi trainee.
Xanatos opened a door which, thankfully, had no scanner. "This room is to be yours," he said coldly. "I trust it will be satisfactory for one so used to Temple luxury?" Obi-Wan didn't reply, and Xanatos left silently.
He sighed and walked in. The room wasn't exactly spacious, but it was large enough to hold a bed, a small dresser, and a door to one side that was probably a 'fresher. The dresser would be empty, at least; he'd brought literally nothing with him. He unhooked his lightsaber and slid the top drawer open, meaning to leave it there until morning.
He started. There were clothes in there; clothes that would fit him! He opened the rest of the drawers, less and less surprised to see that all of them held clothes. *Xanatos had known he was coming.* It was something to think about, for sure, but not tonight. He held back a yawn. Gods, how had he gotten so tired? He kicked off his boots, pulled off his tunic and threw it over the bedpost, flopped onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
~~~~~~
"They were here."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly. "Yes, not long ago. But they're not here anymore. They've vanished." He clenched his fists in frustration, the stench of Lower Coruscant pervading the small tenement.
Tahl caught the note of despair in his voice and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "Not *vanished.* They may have left no physical clues behind, but you can follow what they do not know they left. Concentrate."
He knelt on the floor, tracing a small bloodstain on the rotted floorboards. Obi-Wan was alive, and Xanatos had brought him here...but from here, to where?
He closed his eyes again, searching for any metaphysical sign his padawan might have left. He found pain, fear, fury, despair, a million conflicting emotions, all in the space of a few seconds. Then the faintest beginnings of trust. Just a flicker, but it was there. *Obi-Wan trusted Xanatos!* The boy had put his faith in the kidnapper, the enemy: why?
Images, snatches of conversation.
The pool hall darkening around him, a dim room in the tenement where Qui-Gon now stood.
*"He's dead, Obi-Wan."*
Darkness again.
*Bruck was Xanatos's brother!*
Giving up, resigning himself to his fate.
Leaving for somewhere, a deserted planet. Grayness, scruffy grass, mountains in the distance.
\\But there are a thousand planets like that,\\ Qui-Gon thought. \\I can't search each one for him!\\
Cold words, a warm room, and finally, sleep again.
Stars turning outside a small window as dawn approached.
And a particular one that never moved...
His eyes snapped open. "I think I know where he is."
~~~~~~