The Hidden Truth
Chapter 22: the crash of hope
** Thanks again for the nice feedback! This is the inspiration I need! *grin* **
** ghost-villages **
The Jedi didn't move, didn't make a sound. Kyah knelt down almost instantly and shook the still form. She couldn't understand, what she just saw. He was a Jedi! You couldn't kill a Jedi like that! In the meantime Det grabbed his blaster and fired several shots in the direction of the archer. But there were more than just one. And these people weren't soldiers, they were better trained, more dangerous, they were bounty-hunters. This bunch wouldn't give up and they would stick together like glue. They only knew of one rule and that was money , they didn't care whom (is the casus correct?) they were hunting. Arrows were fired into the small house. The twilight in the room made it difficult to see and evade them. Kyah dragged Obi-Wan behind a foul and stinking table, which would provide a good cover. Det looked around and was relieved to see, that his friends found protection. The rain of arrows stopped. The lad peeked surprised of the window, and couldn't see them anymore. He frowned.
He used this moment to ask how Kenobi was doing.
"He is not very well! We have to get the arrow out of his shoulder. Why did the fire cease? What are they planning, Det?" she demanded an answer, but the young man couldn't give her a satisfying response.
"I don't know. Lay Obi-Wan flat onto the ground and hold his shoulders, so that he can't make a move. I'm going to pull it out of his flesh. But there will be a lot of bleeding…" he said in a silent tone.
"What do you want to tell me? Do you want to tell me, that is not going to make?", she asked furiously and Det averted his gaze.
"Look into my eyes, when I'm speaking to you!"
"He is a Jedi, Kyah and I'm sure, that he survived situations, which were worse. Let's shut up! Just help me, alright?"
Holding the Jedi's shoulders very tight with her thin arms, she did as she was told. Det was unsure to touch the fatale thing, that stuck in his shoulder. His hands trembled slightly, when he made contact with the wooden, deadly killing instrument. Blood was flowing out of the wound and the man felt nauseous at the sight of it. He had to be brave. He had to convey tranquillity for Kyah. He couldn't panic, not now. He inhaled the foul air and coughed. His blond hair was damp with perspiration, his warm brown eyes closed.
"Ok, let's count to three. Then you hold him down with all your strength and I pull this thing out, understand?" Det didn't think, that he sounded convincingly, but he tried to. A small "Yes" came from the girl's dry throat.
"….One….Two….Three, hold him!", he said in a harsh tone. He was sure, that this was more painful for him than it was for Kenobi. The older man responded with a low cry, but went still again. Kyah pulled a handkerchief of her pocket and pressed it to the now strongly bleeding wound. The red liquid was shooting out of it.
All of them were sweating. But it was afternoon and the heat should have been decreased by now, but it was doing the opposite! It was increasing. Suddenly the smelled the stench of burning wood in their noses, of foul burning wood. The hut was on fire!
"Come' on Kyah we have to leave! I take Obi-Wan move, now!", Det took an arm of Kenobi and laid around his neck so that he could stand the weight of the muscular man.
"But they will catch us, if we go outside!", she said in a shrieking voice.
"I know, Kyah, I know…", Det let his boyish voice trail off.
The hut was surrounded of menacing people. Their weapons aimed at the trio. They had to surrender, and hope, that Obi-Wan's famous master would emerge in time.
The young Jedi always spoke of a plan, but a proper outline of this so-called plan never came up. Det smiled a bit at this situation. The lad had the suspicion, that Obi-Wan had secretly hoped, that his mentor would show up in time and help them to find a solution. But now…
The bounty-hunters laughed evilly at the "rebels" and congratulated each other for their courageous capture of the three "well-armed" criminals.
"Look at the Jedi!", a man dressed in a black armour said mockingly
"He is no use anymore and I won't drag him to the palace!"
"Let's leave him here, he will be dead in a few hours." Another one said coldly
"But Draju wants to have a proof of his death. Take his lightsabre from his belt, Ingbor."
As the man in black was told he took the sabre from the wounded Jedi and gave him a kick into his side. Obi-Wan didn't move.
"I think, he's dead."
Kyah stood there like a statue out of stone. The shock was visible in her green eyes. Det looked to the floor because he was crying. Obi-Wan was dead, that couldn't be. The two prisoners were dragged away. Kyah was screaming Obi-Wan's name desperately and kicked her guards away, broke free and ran one last time to the fallen Jedi. He stroke his reddish strands out of his face and kissed him on his cheek and murmured words into his ears. Tears of grief rolled down her own cheeks. The would-be hunters moved to her side and pulled her violently away from her still friend.
"It was a honour to be able to know you, Obi-Wan! I will never forget you my friend!", she screamed as loud as she could. Now Det was crying openly, too.
"We will honour your legacy and fight!", he yelled back to the village.
Tbc..