Here's the fourth chapter, a bit late. Apologies, but I trust you all
understand.
Chapter Four
Obi-Wan Kenobi drew in a deep breath, released it slowly and then began again.
/Red. Red and black, leering. leering, striking, stabbing/
It was time to depart.
He could do this. Without Qui-Gon. He had to do this,
to banish the horrid visions and doubts if nothing else.
Although he could put himself under enough to sleep at night – with
sufficient aid from the Force – images of
the leering Sith menace continued to haunt his waking hours.
Obi-Wan settled his cloak over his short hair and made his way to the top of the landing ramp.
"When will you return?" He directed his question to the figure waiting
to see him off. Only his eyes betrayed
his gratefulness for her thoughtfulness the previous night; Obi-Wan
hated being cold, and the chill of space
was remorseless.
The Republic pilot, Ahazi Suul, pursed her lips as she considered. "Three days time. That sufficient?"
Obi-Wan nodded, bowing formally. "Yes. Thank you."
Despite the fact that she regularly shuttled Jedi to and from various
destinations all over the galaxy, Suul was
Corellian and therefore ignored etiquette entirely. She offered him
a quick wink. "For you, sweetie, anything,
anytime. Don't mention it."
Obi-Wan straightened from his bow and shot her a raised eyebrow,
but she merely grinned back at him saucily
and palmed the hatch open.
"I'll see you in three days, Jedi Kenobi."
Obi-Wan knew from the texts he'd read earlier that morning that the
populated areas of Xin consisted of a
continent containing two regions that were separated by a mountain
range. The Northern area was lush,
humid jungle and full of ripe vegetation and copious water stores.
Just over the mountains to the South, the
land underwent a drastic change: long stretches of sandy dunes with
little by way of trees, plant life, or water.
Reading the mission texts about the Southern area brought to Obi-Wan's
mind the Outer Rim planet Tatooine,
the desert planet where Qui-Gon had met the boy, Anakin – and, in fact,
where Qui-Gon and his golden child,
Obi-Wan's padawan, were now.
Obi-Wan tried not to think about it, tried to ignore the lightsaber
flashes intruding upon his vision and
attempted to focus on what he remembered of the peoples of Xin.
The Northern and Southern people, he recalled, were very much alike,
with only a few minor differences to
set them apart. Both peoples were bipedal and humanoid, but the Northerners
were stronger and healthier
than their kinsmen to the South, having greater access to food, water,
and medicines that could be garnered
from plants of the Northern hemisphere.
The fighting between the peoples was the result of the arid harshness
of the Southern hemisphere stealing
all the reserves its people could manage to gather; and the impenetrability
of Northern stubbornness that
refused to trade with their kinsmen. While the Southern faction called
insistently for peace and the aid of
the Senate, those of the Northern area were less than ecstatic with
either idea. It was Obi-Wan's solo mission
to bring both sides together as closely as possible and also try to
convince the Northerners to agree with
the South and join the Republic.
Breathe. Obi-Wan moved down the ramp now without conscious thought,
striding confidently by himself,
and not a respectful step behind his Master.
/Green/blue/red/
Two men and a woman waited at the bottom of the ramp; at their expectant,
critical faces, Obi-Wan's calm
vanished and his nerves shook.
Incredible. They're actually depending on you to help them,
he thought in amazement and before he realized
it, he was unconsciously grasping for help through the fragment of
the bond he'd shared with Qui-Gon.
Stop it, he told himself firmly, more than a little frightened
as he quickly released the cauterized remains of the
link. What was wrong with him? When had he become so dependent on his
Master? So needy for reassurance
that he was doing the right thing? You're no longer Qui-Gon's Padawan;
you're Anakin's Master. If you won't
be competent for yourself, at least be sufficient for the boy who
must follow you.
Obi-Wan released a sharp breath and hoped his initial discomfort hadn't
been noticed by the individuals
awaiting him.
One of the humanoid men stepped forward as Obi-Wan approached and gave
a short, quick bow.
"Ambassador."
Obi-Wan swallowed hard.
Let the show begin.
~*~*~
After living on the teeming, bustling, over-crowded city-planet Coruscant
for so long, Qui-Gon was finding
that Tatooine's endless stretches of wide-open desert were making him
feel, oddly … claustrophobic.
His morning walks, such as the one he was taking now, only served to
remind him of just how much empty
space Tatooine had to offer. He longed for the small but orderly quarters
he and Obi-Wan shared tucked inside
the Jedi Temple and the familiarity and comfort the closeness of his
Padawan brought him. Qui-Gon had spent
far too much time away from home, and he was discovering how much he
missed the little things he'd taken
for granted: the somewhat chipped tea mugs neatly put away in the kitchen,
Obi-Wan's datapads stacked on
the common room's low table; even the wet towels dropped carelessly
on the fresher floor.
Qui-Gon brushed these rueful thoughts aside with a little sadness. Even
when he and Anakin returned to
Coruscant, his old quarters would be empty, devoid of everything that
had made them warm and cheerful and
home-like, because Obi-Wan had already quietly and carefully packaged
up his belongings and moved them
to the new quarters he now shared with Anakin instead.
It didn't surprise him that he missed Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon almost sent a light probe through the bond he'd shared with
his former Padawan but withdrew at
the last moment, remembering that their link had been severed, and
none too gently either, when Qui-Gon
had had that slight run-in with the Sith lord's double-bladed lightsaber.
The air was warm and pleasant and Qui-Gon folded his arms in his voluminous
sleeves contentedly.
His wandering thoughts halted as he espied a shapeless, huddled form
in the distance. He was tired and
sore already from his walking this morning, but his mouth twisted down
in a concerned frown as he hurried
toward the figure. His long fingers curled around the hilt of his lightsaber,
but he didn't sense anything
dangerous from the creature before him – in fact, he couldn't sense
anything from it at all.
Qui-Gon crossed the distance fairly quickly and knelt beside the form
hunched over its knees, reaching out
a hand to shake the brown-robed shoulder gently.
"Hello?" he questioned softly, peering down for a glance under the heavy
cowl. "Are you all right? Do you
need help?"
When no reply came, Qui-Gon tilted the head with care and pushed the
cowl back … and gasped.
Familiar blue eyes stared out sightlessly from a face that had been
burned and then cracked by the
unforgiving desert suns, the gentle features were twisted into a harsh
and accusing scowl that seemed
to tear through the Jedi Master to his very soul.
It was Obi-Wan, and he was dead.
"Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master breathed, looking with horror into the blank eyes. "Oh Force, Obi-Wan … "
I cannot train the boy, Master …
The words seemed whispered by the wind in a voice that was achingly recognizable. Qui-Gon shivered.
"No!" He pulled the limp body closer, feeling his breath hitch disbelievingly
in his throat. This was wrong!
Obi-Wan was far away from here. Obi-Wan was whole and healthy – Obi-Wan
was alive and back home
at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.
Qui-Gon lifted a shaking hand to close the staring eyes and Obi-Wan
blinked and turned unfocussed,
sightless eyes on his former Master.
Master,
Qui-Gon was so startled he nearly dropped his precious burden. "Obi-Wan?"
The horribly burned face twisted painfully as Obi-Wan's lips slipped
into a wan, resigned smile. His lips
moved to speak, but Qui-Gon heard the words on the wind.
I've failed, Master. I'm failing. I'm sorry.
"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured helplessly, wishing he could somehow
guide Obi-Wan's searching
blue-grey eyes to focus on his face. He captured one of the slim hands
in his own and tried to ignore the
charred, peeling skin that rubbed off under his fingers.
Train the boy, the wind told him. He is the chosen one. I have failed.
"You've only just begun," Qui-Gon countered softly.
He awoke then, sweat causing his nightclothes to cling to his body and
the images so real and close in
his mind, he wondered if it had been more than a nightmare and instantly
he banished that thought.
Obi-Wan was on Coruscant, he reminded himself.
The dream was so vivid and Obi-Wan's loose body so real in his arms,
that Qui-Gon knew he would get
no more rest tonight. He toyed briefly with the notion of comming the
Temple and speaking with Obi-Wan,
but the young man was a Knight now and didn't need his old Master checking
up on him every time
Qui-Gon worried.
The Jedi Master padded noiselessly through the small Skywalker home
until he was outside on the small
balcony. The stars were bright this night, and he gazed up at them
wistfully.
The desert winds whispered to him then, and he shivered.
end chapter 4. yay! :)