Part 1- Papercut
"Master Yoda, I come before you and the Council today to call on your assistance. As Guardians of the Peace, you must hear my cry," Qui-Gon began. He observed the shocked glances from the members. Even Yoda seemed surprised.
"Never before has a Jedi assistance requested. Unusual, it is, but listen, we will," Yoda said.
"My Padawan has disappeared. He has gone after the Ramming Stone."
"Help you we can. Find, Obi-Wan, we will," Yoda promised.
"That's not what I was going to ask about. The Ramming Stone must be found. He must either be imprisoned or killed-" Yoda interrupted with a huff.
"Bounty hunters, we are not." Qui-Gon stiffened.
"Master Yoda, the Ramming Stone is a threat to our way of life. He is a threat to Coruscant. If we do not find him soon, we shall face grievous results."
"Your worry for your apprentice has clouded your mind," Mace Windu admonished. "Clear your mind of such thoughts. Trust in the Force. The Ramming Stone is not a present danger. If the time comes that he wishes to fight us, then by the Force, we'll fight him! Until then, we cannot aide you."
"In that matter," Yoda added. "Search for Obi-Wan, we will."
"You'll not find him. He is a Jedi, and knows how to cover his tracks." Qui-Gon left the Council Room, bitterly disappointed.
***
Three years later...
"Qui-Gon." A soft, female voice and a hand suddenly clutching his shoulder awoke the Master instantly.
"What is it, Tahl?" He asked blearily.
"Take me to the Healers right now."
"Tahl, it's three in the morning. It's bad enough that the kids wake us up at four."
"Qui-Gon, I felt something in my stomach. And its not food. It's a baby." Qui-Gon sat up, disturbed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Take me there now," she ordered, rising from the bed.
"What happened to a happy, quiet, sleep-filled marriage?" Qui-Gon grumbled, still not fully awake. Donning his cloak, he quietly checked on Ang-Jir and Ald-Yen, his three-year-old twins. He glanced at Ang-Jir, his beautiful daughter, with her light brown hair and dark eyes. Ald-Yen looked more like Tahl, for his eyes were golden and green.
He still remembered the day he discovered his wife was pregnant. He remembered her gasping his name as she passed out. He had completely lost control, for it had also been the day Obi-Wan Kenobi had left his life.
The Council had dispatched some of the best Jedi to search for Obi-Wan, but he was nowhere to be found. Sometimes, incidents were reported of a child miraculously saved or a heavy brawl ended by the words of a young man, but by the time it reached the Council's ears, Obi-Wan was long gone.
To make matters worse, the Ramming Stone still lived. On Coruscant, he was still gaining supporters through the aide of a woman named Ora. She was young, beautiful, and very charismatic. She obviously had been swept away by the Ramming Stone's words and now would defend him, and encourage his beliefs, though the Ramming Stone was a wanted man on every Senate-abiding planet.
The Ramming Stone himself lived openly on planets not part of the Galactic Senate. He seemed to have gained the favor of the Hutts, a wormlike species who collectively believed in the power of the gangster and the terrorist.
His actions could not be monitored and he could not be apprehended. The Ramming Stone was a free man, and a great threat to Jedi Temple. One time, he had seized a classroom of children, and had threatened to destroy the entire Jedi Order. Qui-Gon and four other Jedi had managed to thwart him, but not before he took the life of nine-year-old Marla Kint.
Marla had been a close friend to Obi-Wan. She had died when he had been only a meter away from her, and had been helpless to stop it. The Ramming Stone had taken away a great part of Obi-Wan, and the boy had felt entitled to take that piece of him back.
"What exactly does it feel like, Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Like- oh, Sith. You don't think I'm pregnant again?" She looked worried. She had nearly died giving birth to the twins, making birthing a frightening experience for her.
"Maybe."
"Well, it better not be twins," she muttered.
***
"You were right, Tahl. You are pregnant. Not with twins, though," Winna Di Uni said, winking at Qui-Gon. Healer Di Uni had been a good friend of Qui-Gon's for the past three years.
"Oh, Sith, Qui-Gon. I haven't been an active Jedi for the past three years!"
"It's not my fault-" Qui-Gon began.
"Oh, really?" Tahl asked mockingly. "If you weren't Master Bedwarmer every Sithin' night- oh. I'm sorry, Winna." Winna burst out laughing.
"It's alright. I know you both love to scrap it out. I leave you alone for a few minutes."
Tahl turned in Qui-Gon's direction after Winna left, her sightless eyes apologetic. She smiled almost sheepishly.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. It's just that Bant hasn't ever been on a mission with me, and I've been her Master for a while, and now that I'm pregnant again, she'll have to wait even more."
"I don't think she minds," Qui-Gon said empathetically. Qui-Gon had taken Bant on several missions. He had grown to love her as a daughter and felt she was almost prepared for the Jedi Knight Trials.
"I mind," Tahl said. "How am I supposed to teach her if I'm trapped in the Healer's Wing or our quarters?"
"She learns many things from you," Qui-Gon argued. Tahl grinned.
"I think I'll stop arguing with you."
"Good. I'm running out of energy."
"Mommy? Daddy?" Ald-Yen called from the doorway.
"Better find some energy, Qui. It's your turn to put him to sleep."
***
When darkness fell on the planet of Veranzo, so did morality. Raves and general partying broke out. In the daytime, Veranzo was a prim and arrogant planet, where rich snobs and their spoiled children would escape the tax law introduced by the Galactic Senate. Etiquette was taught almost every minute of the day. But when the parents had gone to their beds, the foolish teenagers, feeling entitled to be free after such "grueling" days, would find the nearest place to party.
The best place to party, however, was Gessa's Place. Only the richest kids were allowed to enter, as they had to pay a considerable amount. Most kids only went there once in their life, and never forgot it. It was a vile place, reeking with sex, drugs, and alcohol.
It was about midnight when the party began to elevate to its highest point of ecstasy. The noise was like that of a thousand banthas, caught up in a stampede, though less than three hundred teenagers were present. Everyone was happily drunk or high.
Its owner, Gessa the Hutt, was particularly happy. Gessa prided herself in being the most successful Huttese businesswoman in the past six centuries. She was making a substantial profit simply by hosting the biggest raves, and an even greater profit through her drug operation.
That night, she stood on the balcony of her mansion, overlooking the rave. She was a small Hutt, barely ten feet long, but felt blessed by her petite stature. Unlike some of her male counterparts, she was actually able to move faster than an inch per hour.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" She murmured to her guest, a tall male humanoid.
"I do not think so. I believe that raves are one of the most iniquitous events of the galaxy," He replied in a deep voice. Gessa snorted.
"And drugs aren't? Don't get philosophical on me, humanoid. I have the credits."
"All fifteen million?" The man asked suspiciously, his strange, ruby red eyes full of contempt. Gessa met his gaze with her own glare as she nodded her head towards a large metallic case.
"All of it. Where's the shipment?"
"In Hanger 27. I left it in four unmarked canisters in the back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go," Gessa noted the apprehension in his eyes.
"So soon?" She asked, feigning concern, searching for information.
"Let's just say I have some unwanted company on my tail. Don't worry, he won't come after you. He's an old acquaintance of mine." Malice replaced the fear in his blood red eyes.
"Just the same, leave. If Jabba hears I've been dealing with a humanoid, he'll have my tail for dessert." The Ramming Stone grinned, contemplating the thought of Gessa slowly being strangled to death. It was enticing.
After he left, Gessa turned back to the rave, watching the teenagers for several minutes. She wished she had their agility, their energy-
"A teenage wasteland," a strange voice commented behind her. She turned. A man stood before her, his face hidden by a hooded cloak.
"Who the Sith are you?" she demanded, fingering her blaster.
"No friend of yours, you can be sure of that." Before Gessa could draw her blaster, the blaster slipped out of the holster and flew into the stranger's hands.
"What are you, some kind of Jedi?" She asked, fear beginning to rise in her stomach.
"Something close to that."
"Leave, you scum. You have no power here. Veranzo's a free planet, not under the Senate's jurisdiction."
"Now did I say I was a Jedi?" the man asked mockingly. "I just said I was something like it. And I do have power. It's sitting here right in my hand," he said coolly, indicating the blaster.
"What do you want?" Gessa asked, her voice small and full of fear, for she knew this man was capable of killing her.
"The man with the red eyes; where did he go?"
"He didn't tell me. He knows you're here, that's why he didn't tell me." She could hear the man cursing softly.
"Thank you for your assistance," the man said, tossing the blaster aside as he left the room.
Gessa found herself unable to move, frozen by fear. Never in her life had she sensed a creature so murderous, and so erratic that did not work for or with her.
***
Twenty-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi moved through the rave, angry and bitterly disappointed. Once again, the Ramming Stone had slipped through his fingers.
He had been tracking the terrorist for three years. It should have been easy to follow him, as he lived so openly, but Obi-Wan lacked something the Ramming Stone had: money. Well-paying jobs were few and far between for him, and sometimes he would have to completely stop his search to take a job. But on worlds such as Veranzo, a morally upright job was hard to find.
"Hey there, cutie. Wanna hit?" A drunken golden-haired girl asked, offering him a small tube filled with black powder. Obi-Wan shook his head.
"No, and neither do you. You want to go home, sober up, and tell your parents what you did tonight." Obi-Wan said, calling on the Force.
"You know what, I don't wanna hit either. I wanna go home, sober up, and tell my parents what I did tonight." She walked away from the rave, looking very determined. Obi-Wan turned and began to make his way back to his own ship, an old X-wing.
The past three years of Obi-Wan's life had been those of misery, anger, and insanity. Inner demons were constantly tearing at his soul, reminding him of the real reason why he began his search for the Ramming Stone: revenge.
The Ramming Stone had destroyed his peace. He had killed his friend- no. no, that was not true.
I killed her.
Yes, Obi-Wan had killed Marla. He was solely responsible. So why did he feel betrayed? Why did he feel the need to lash out?
Why did he feel the need to kill?
"Master Yoda, I come before you and the Council today to call on your assistance. As Guardians of the Peace, you must hear my cry," Qui-Gon began. He observed the shocked glances from the members. Even Yoda seemed surprised.
"Never before has a Jedi assistance requested. Unusual, it is, but listen, we will," Yoda said.
"My Padawan has disappeared. He has gone after the Ramming Stone."
"Help you we can. Find, Obi-Wan, we will," Yoda promised.
"That's not what I was going to ask about. The Ramming Stone must be found. He must either be imprisoned or killed-" Yoda interrupted with a huff.
"Bounty hunters, we are not." Qui-Gon stiffened.
"Master Yoda, the Ramming Stone is a threat to our way of life. He is a threat to Coruscant. If we do not find him soon, we shall face grievous results."
"Your worry for your apprentice has clouded your mind," Mace Windu admonished. "Clear your mind of such thoughts. Trust in the Force. The Ramming Stone is not a present danger. If the time comes that he wishes to fight us, then by the Force, we'll fight him! Until then, we cannot aide you."
"In that matter," Yoda added. "Search for Obi-Wan, we will."
"You'll not find him. He is a Jedi, and knows how to cover his tracks." Qui-Gon left the Council Room, bitterly disappointed.
***
Three years later...
"Qui-Gon." A soft, female voice and a hand suddenly clutching his shoulder awoke the Master instantly.
"What is it, Tahl?" He asked blearily.
"Take me to the Healers right now."
"Tahl, it's three in the morning. It's bad enough that the kids wake us up at four."
"Qui-Gon, I felt something in my stomach. And its not food. It's a baby." Qui-Gon sat up, disturbed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Take me there now," she ordered, rising from the bed.
"What happened to a happy, quiet, sleep-filled marriage?" Qui-Gon grumbled, still not fully awake. Donning his cloak, he quietly checked on Ang-Jir and Ald-Yen, his three-year-old twins. He glanced at Ang-Jir, his beautiful daughter, with her light brown hair and dark eyes. Ald-Yen looked more like Tahl, for his eyes were golden and green.
He still remembered the day he discovered his wife was pregnant. He remembered her gasping his name as she passed out. He had completely lost control, for it had also been the day Obi-Wan Kenobi had left his life.
The Council had dispatched some of the best Jedi to search for Obi-Wan, but he was nowhere to be found. Sometimes, incidents were reported of a child miraculously saved or a heavy brawl ended by the words of a young man, but by the time it reached the Council's ears, Obi-Wan was long gone.
To make matters worse, the Ramming Stone still lived. On Coruscant, he was still gaining supporters through the aide of a woman named Ora. She was young, beautiful, and very charismatic. She obviously had been swept away by the Ramming Stone's words and now would defend him, and encourage his beliefs, though the Ramming Stone was a wanted man on every Senate-abiding planet.
The Ramming Stone himself lived openly on planets not part of the Galactic Senate. He seemed to have gained the favor of the Hutts, a wormlike species who collectively believed in the power of the gangster and the terrorist.
His actions could not be monitored and he could not be apprehended. The Ramming Stone was a free man, and a great threat to Jedi Temple. One time, he had seized a classroom of children, and had threatened to destroy the entire Jedi Order. Qui-Gon and four other Jedi had managed to thwart him, but not before he took the life of nine-year-old Marla Kint.
Marla had been a close friend to Obi-Wan. She had died when he had been only a meter away from her, and had been helpless to stop it. The Ramming Stone had taken away a great part of Obi-Wan, and the boy had felt entitled to take that piece of him back.
"What exactly does it feel like, Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Like- oh, Sith. You don't think I'm pregnant again?" She looked worried. She had nearly died giving birth to the twins, making birthing a frightening experience for her.
"Maybe."
"Well, it better not be twins," she muttered.
***
"You were right, Tahl. You are pregnant. Not with twins, though," Winna Di Uni said, winking at Qui-Gon. Healer Di Uni had been a good friend of Qui-Gon's for the past three years.
"Oh, Sith, Qui-Gon. I haven't been an active Jedi for the past three years!"
"It's not my fault-" Qui-Gon began.
"Oh, really?" Tahl asked mockingly. "If you weren't Master Bedwarmer every Sithin' night- oh. I'm sorry, Winna." Winna burst out laughing.
"It's alright. I know you both love to scrap it out. I leave you alone for a few minutes."
Tahl turned in Qui-Gon's direction after Winna left, her sightless eyes apologetic. She smiled almost sheepishly.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. It's just that Bant hasn't ever been on a mission with me, and I've been her Master for a while, and now that I'm pregnant again, she'll have to wait even more."
"I don't think she minds," Qui-Gon said empathetically. Qui-Gon had taken Bant on several missions. He had grown to love her as a daughter and felt she was almost prepared for the Jedi Knight Trials.
"I mind," Tahl said. "How am I supposed to teach her if I'm trapped in the Healer's Wing or our quarters?"
"She learns many things from you," Qui-Gon argued. Tahl grinned.
"I think I'll stop arguing with you."
"Good. I'm running out of energy."
"Mommy? Daddy?" Ald-Yen called from the doorway.
"Better find some energy, Qui. It's your turn to put him to sleep."
***
When darkness fell on the planet of Veranzo, so did morality. Raves and general partying broke out. In the daytime, Veranzo was a prim and arrogant planet, where rich snobs and their spoiled children would escape the tax law introduced by the Galactic Senate. Etiquette was taught almost every minute of the day. But when the parents had gone to their beds, the foolish teenagers, feeling entitled to be free after such "grueling" days, would find the nearest place to party.
The best place to party, however, was Gessa's Place. Only the richest kids were allowed to enter, as they had to pay a considerable amount. Most kids only went there once in their life, and never forgot it. It was a vile place, reeking with sex, drugs, and alcohol.
It was about midnight when the party began to elevate to its highest point of ecstasy. The noise was like that of a thousand banthas, caught up in a stampede, though less than three hundred teenagers were present. Everyone was happily drunk or high.
Its owner, Gessa the Hutt, was particularly happy. Gessa prided herself in being the most successful Huttese businesswoman in the past six centuries. She was making a substantial profit simply by hosting the biggest raves, and an even greater profit through her drug operation.
That night, she stood on the balcony of her mansion, overlooking the rave. She was a small Hutt, barely ten feet long, but felt blessed by her petite stature. Unlike some of her male counterparts, she was actually able to move faster than an inch per hour.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" She murmured to her guest, a tall male humanoid.
"I do not think so. I believe that raves are one of the most iniquitous events of the galaxy," He replied in a deep voice. Gessa snorted.
"And drugs aren't? Don't get philosophical on me, humanoid. I have the credits."
"All fifteen million?" The man asked suspiciously, his strange, ruby red eyes full of contempt. Gessa met his gaze with her own glare as she nodded her head towards a large metallic case.
"All of it. Where's the shipment?"
"In Hanger 27. I left it in four unmarked canisters in the back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go," Gessa noted the apprehension in his eyes.
"So soon?" She asked, feigning concern, searching for information.
"Let's just say I have some unwanted company on my tail. Don't worry, he won't come after you. He's an old acquaintance of mine." Malice replaced the fear in his blood red eyes.
"Just the same, leave. If Jabba hears I've been dealing with a humanoid, he'll have my tail for dessert." The Ramming Stone grinned, contemplating the thought of Gessa slowly being strangled to death. It was enticing.
After he left, Gessa turned back to the rave, watching the teenagers for several minutes. She wished she had their agility, their energy-
"A teenage wasteland," a strange voice commented behind her. She turned. A man stood before her, his face hidden by a hooded cloak.
"Who the Sith are you?" she demanded, fingering her blaster.
"No friend of yours, you can be sure of that." Before Gessa could draw her blaster, the blaster slipped out of the holster and flew into the stranger's hands.
"What are you, some kind of Jedi?" She asked, fear beginning to rise in her stomach.
"Something close to that."
"Leave, you scum. You have no power here. Veranzo's a free planet, not under the Senate's jurisdiction."
"Now did I say I was a Jedi?" the man asked mockingly. "I just said I was something like it. And I do have power. It's sitting here right in my hand," he said coolly, indicating the blaster.
"What do you want?" Gessa asked, her voice small and full of fear, for she knew this man was capable of killing her.
"The man with the red eyes; where did he go?"
"He didn't tell me. He knows you're here, that's why he didn't tell me." She could hear the man cursing softly.
"Thank you for your assistance," the man said, tossing the blaster aside as he left the room.
Gessa found herself unable to move, frozen by fear. Never in her life had she sensed a creature so murderous, and so erratic that did not work for or with her.
***
Twenty-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi moved through the rave, angry and bitterly disappointed. Once again, the Ramming Stone had slipped through his fingers.
He had been tracking the terrorist for three years. It should have been easy to follow him, as he lived so openly, but Obi-Wan lacked something the Ramming Stone had: money. Well-paying jobs were few and far between for him, and sometimes he would have to completely stop his search to take a job. But on worlds such as Veranzo, a morally upright job was hard to find.
"Hey there, cutie. Wanna hit?" A drunken golden-haired girl asked, offering him a small tube filled with black powder. Obi-Wan shook his head.
"No, and neither do you. You want to go home, sober up, and tell your parents what you did tonight." Obi-Wan said, calling on the Force.
"You know what, I don't wanna hit either. I wanna go home, sober up, and tell my parents what I did tonight." She walked away from the rave, looking very determined. Obi-Wan turned and began to make his way back to his own ship, an old X-wing.
The past three years of Obi-Wan's life had been those of misery, anger, and insanity. Inner demons were constantly tearing at his soul, reminding him of the real reason why he began his search for the Ramming Stone: revenge.
The Ramming Stone had destroyed his peace. He had killed his friend- no. no, that was not true.
I killed her.
Yes, Obi-Wan had killed Marla. He was solely responsible. So why did he feel betrayed? Why did he feel the need to lash out?
Why did he feel the need to kill?
