Title: Crossing the Lines
Summary: Obi-wan Kenobi knows revenge leads to the Dark side, but after what his Master has done to him, it's worth it, isn't it? Especially since Qui-gon betrayed him. PG for violence.
Acknowledgements: (as always) Jesus, Padawan Nik-ka, Galahan, Chewie, Ginger Ninja, Kochan, Yoda, Orin, Redtailhawk, M1A2Tanker, and whoever else who's helped me out so far…
A/n: Hope this came out as promised, but the next one's gonna be a week later, maybe expect it next Friday or the weekend, school's started… :) - wild horse
Chapter 4:
It was tense.
Qui-gon could feel the thickness in the air, in the Force. He knew he had to move correctly. One wrong move, and that was it. Obi-wan – was it really him? – and his partner wanted something, but what was it? Suicide? Murder? Kidnapping?
Obi-wan received something from his partner, a round, spherical ball with a flashing red light. Qui-gon stiffened. Thermal Detonator. He didn't fear for his own life. He feared for the lives of the others in this room, and the civil war within the planet. Qui-gon Jinn forced Obi-wan out of his mind, he couldn't let his ties with his Apprentice get in the way.
For awhile, no one spoke. Just silence. Then, Obi-wan started speaking in a low voice, "Listen to me. No-one gets hurt if we do this right. If any of you don't co-operate, we shoot…"
"You will never get away with this… this outrage!" One of the officials snarled, jumping to his feet. A three-round burst from a rifle dropped him to the ground, moaning. Qui-gon's eyes darted quickly to the other man with Obi-wan. He was a mercenary, or a bounty hunter, at the very least, Qui-gon guessed. Rugged, ruthless. The Jedi Master glanced at the official. The mercenary had aimed properly, Qui-gon decided. The official wouldn't die, but he wouldn't be able to walk either.
Qui-gon saw Obi-wan's eyes narrow, like they always did when he set out with determination to accomplish something.
"Like I was saying…we can and will get away with this, and we will be back," Obi-wan's manner was cold, business-like. "But first, we have a message for you all…"
The wounded official groaned in pain, and the mercenary kicked him roughly in the ribs. "Shut up and listen. The movie is starting." He grinned – a wild, reckless grin – but Qui-gon could sense that he didn't take pleasure in torturing his captive.
Removing a holocube from his pocket, the mercenary flicked it on with his fingers.
The image was fuzzy, but Qui-gon could make out the outlines of a man – about forty or so – with a beard and wearing a military uniform. The figure spoke, "Greetings, officials." There was not even a hint of respect in the voice, it rang with contempt. "I am General Aly'sr." At this, several of the officials gasped. "You think I'm dead, but I'm not. I survived your Prisons, and I have people who survived along with me. We are Freedom Fighters; we are willing to fight for our freedom. This Government you are about to form, it is rubbish. The people are suffering, and all you think of is ending the war and starting the fear again. Master Jedi, I know you are here also, I ask you to help us – help Seylar – escape this. We will fight for freedom from fear, if it comes to that, but I do not want another war yet again over nothing. I am coming, we will change Seylar. For the better," The figure nodded once, then faded out.
The whole room was plunged into silence. No-one spoke at all. Obi-wan and his partner just stood there, observing the reactions on the faces of everyone. Qui-gon remained as composed as ever, even though his heart was racing furiously.
What had happened to Obi-wan since they last met?
Who was Obi-wan with now?
Why was his Apprentice doing this?
Qui-gon stopped the flow of questions before they flooded his mind and clouded his judgement.
Obi-wan turned his head to look Qui-gon squarely in the eyes. He nodded once, an almost imperceptible movement. The look in his eyes was hatred. Pure hatred. Thirst for revenge. But more controlled than before. A cool, piercing gaze more difficult to bear. Qui-gon forced himself not to look away this time.
Then, they turned on their heels and left, striding confidently through the halls.
"Summon the guards!" one of the True Government Officials – his name was Gura – snapped into the intercom.
"It's no use," Qui-gon said softly. "They will be gone by then."
"What will we do?" a Rebellion Official asked fearfully as he tried to raise a med squad on his comlink for his injured friend.
"Master Jedi, we need your help," Gura turned to Qui-gon. "This world needs peace."
"My job here is to negotiate," Qui-gon answered neutrally, forcing down his other feelings, "I will do as best I can, but I would need to take a look at these Prisons. The Freedom Fighters would also want to participate, and I will do my best. I have to look at all the situations, and then offer my help. I cannot fight wars for either of you, nor do I wish to."
Gura and the other Officials nodded silently. They knew what had to be done. They all knew how war had devastated their homeworld. And they knew everyone wanted a new life.
"We will take you to the prisons, Master Jedi," Gura answered after the long pause. "But first, we must allow you some time to rest. An aide will come and fetch you tomorrow morning."
He walked along the streets, wary, but composed and calm. He knew what he was doing – he had done it countless times before. This melting in with the people, this searching, and yet not seeming to be searching.
Qui-gon's eyes scanned the crowd, the presence of his Apprentice faint but distinguishable – once he knew what to look for. The presence was getting stronger. Qui-gon turned off the main street – crowded with fearful citizens – and into an alley, using the Force to sharpen his senses.
The soft thud behind him made him turn around. Qui-gon's hand flew to his lightsabre, but a cold voice stayed it. "So, Jedi, you come and you search…" Qui-gon recognised the voice of Obi-wan's partner.
"For someone," Qui-gon said softly, his blue eyes revealing none of his thoughts.
"I am here, Qui-gon," Obi-wan answered, blue-green eyes also emotionless.
"Obi-wan, I thought you were dead…"
"Exactly," Obi-wan's face twisted into a snarl, "You left me. To suffer on the prisons. I bet you had a lot of fun, knowing I was in pain, while you got away. I defended you, and you abandoned me. Now get out of my sight."
"Obi-wan, please…" Qui-gon tried not to let desperation creep into his voice.
The mercenary stepped forward, "Go, Jedi. You are not wanted here." Qui-gon could see he held no weapons, but he knew the merc was dangerous all the same.
"Qui-gon Jinn," Obi-wan's voice was colder than ice, burning with anger and hatred, "I will hunt you, after this is over. I vow, I will come, and you will feel the pain you abandoned me to. You thought I would die, you took satisfaction in it."
"Anger leads to the Dark Side…" Qui-gon knew it was a weak excuse.
Obi-wan laughed. "Where was the Force when I suffered? Nowhere. It is of no use to me anymore. I don't use it, nor do I care. Now go away!"
"Jedi, the only thing that stays our killing hand is our orders. General Aly'sr wants you alive," the mercenary said in a dangerously soft tone, "I have hunted Jedi before, and killed them. Remember Takir?"
At the name, Qui-gon stiffened visibly, shocked.
"Yes," the grim smile, "I killed her. I chased her down, and I killed her. I had my fun then, Jedi."
Qui-gon watched as Obi-wan and the mercenary left. Old memories and the pain from them rushed at him in a blinding wave, but he brushed them aside roughly.
No, this can't be happening.
But it was. Qui-gon knew it was worse than his worst nightmare.
A/n: thanks very much for reading, please leave reviews. And anyway, I hope to get the next chap out by Friday (a week from now) oh yeah, and happy new year :) – wild horse
