Part 7- The Rise and Fall of Obi-Wan Kenobi
Sifo-Dyas had forgotten how serene the Temple was. Even in the makeshift holding cell, with only plain gray walls and a small sleep-couch, he felt the peace of sleeping children and their protectors. But even as that peace washed over him, guilt tore at his heart.
He had been a protector of those children once before. He had taken the responsibility quite seriously; perhaps that was why he had seemed so strict during the years he had instructed the Padawans in the way of the Force.
But Sifo-Dyas had betrayed those children, those children he had loved and protected for years, and he knew he would die for it. He had known it the moment Qui-Gon Jinn had arrived at his home on Edeth, and suddenly he knew he would die that very night.
He was not afraid to die, as he had died many times before. He had fled from his past like a coward, killing his heart a thousand times.
Even as Sifo-Dyas felt the surge in the Force, warning him of his inevitable death, he did not let his wither in fear. Even as the dark assassin swooped down from the ceiling, viroblade in hand, he accepted the inexorable.
And as Obi-Wan drew the blade across the old Jedi's throat, Sifo-Dyas' only thought a plea of forgiveness sent to the children he had once protected, once betrayed, and always loved.
***
Sifo-Dyas' blood was black in the night, splattering Obi-Wan's face as it gushed forward from his throat. It splashed everywhere; from the walls, to the floor, and even the ceiling.
Its coolness upon his face seemed to affect him. His body became completely rigid for a moment, then he jerked, as if snapping out of a stupor.
"What am I doing here?" Obi-Wan murmured. He turned, and saw the body on the floor.
"Sifo-Dyas?" He asked, not realizing the old Master was dead. He stepped forward, and slipped on the blood that coated the floor. He stopped, and gasped when he realized he was covered in blood.
"What the…?" Obi-Wan stared at the body, the blood, and the bloody viroblade in his hand. Had he killed Sifo-Dyas?
He tried to remember, tried to recall the past few moments, the past few hours, but nothing but a black void came to him. The harder he tried to remember, the more painful it became, the more nauseated he became…
Suddenly, Obi-Wan crashed to his knees the memories flooded back. Injections, vengeance, blood, murder…
I did kill him, Obi-Wan realized, sickened. He stared at his hands, covered in the blood of a man he had hated for years, and had killed in an instant that he could not clearly remember.
For three years, all Obi-Wan had thought about was killing. And now that he had killed, instead of satisfaction or restitution, all he could feel was horror and grief.
Guilt suddenly replaced everything, and Obi-Wan threw up his hands, calling the name of the one he would always love, and never see, for he had betrayed him three times over.
"Qui-Gon!"
***
Qui-Gon awoke suddenly, his heart contracting in pain. Something had called to him as he had slept, someone in great pain.
"Tahl?" He called, placing his hand on his wife's shoulder. She was asleep, and at peace. No, Tahl had not called to him.
He checked on both of his children, but they too were sleeping peacefully. Qui-Gon decided that it had only been a dream and fell back to sleep for an hour or so.
His sleep was interrupted, however, when his comlink buzzed.
"Jinn here."
"Qui-Gon," Mace's voice said wearily. "Sifo-Dyas has been murdered."
***
Qui-Gon soon arrived at the makeshift holding cell in which Sifo-Dyas had been kept. He restrained a flinch as he saw the dark blood that stained the small area.
"How long has he been dead?" Qui-Gon asked Mace as Winna and some healers wrapped up the body.
"No more than an hour. The lock's been broken," He said, indicating the fallen lock. "The killer must have just walked in, and slit his throat."
"There's a viroblade over here," Winna called after the rest of the Healers had left with the body. "I think it's safe to say that this is the murder weapon." She held the bloodied weapon up.
"So, who would want to kill Sifo-Dyas?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Outside of the Temple? The Ramming Stone," Mace replied. The Ramming Stone was the most obvious suspect.
"Or one of his colleagues." Qui-Gon frowned. "Something doesn't seem right. Do you see how the blood has smeared? It looks as if someone slipped in it. And then perhaps kneeled in it. There are handprints on the walls, too big to be Sifo-Dyas'."
"It looks as if the person was staggering. The Ramming Stone would not have lingered. Unless Sifo-Dyas managed to wound him…"
"This was not a professional murder. Assassins don't leave their weapons behind. Whoever did this either decided to kill Sifo-Dyas in the heat of a moment, or was forced to kill him. Either way, I sense that the murderer deeply regrets his actions."
"You can sense that?" Mace asked, surprised. Even he, a member of the Jedi Council, had not been able to detect what Qui-Gon had.
"I don't know why, but it feels as if the person who did this knows me. Quite well. But that's…"
"I can think of only five people who ever truly knew you: myself, Tahl, Yoda Xanatos, and Obi-Wan. I was speaking with Yoda when the murder occurred, so I am eliminated. And-"
"Tahl was with me. Xanatos is gone, as is… Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said quickly, trying hard not to think of the boy. Qui-Gon put a hand to his head. "I'm sorry, Mace. I had a dream that someone close to me cried out to me, in great pain. I thought perhaps that the dream had something to do with the death of Sifo-Dyas."
"I shouldn't have awoken you. These past few days have been difficult for you." Qui-Gon nodded. All in the same month, his family had been kidnapped, his former apprentice had been murdered, a Sith Lord had been discovered, and now yet another death had occurred at the Temple.
What did it all mean? Coincidence was out of the question; too much had happened too conveniently for the dark forces of the galaxy.
"Why would a Sith Lord kidnap my wife?" Qui-Gon wondered out loud. Mace glanced up in realization. It was very strange that a Sith Lord would kidnap Tahl.
"Does Tahl have any enemies that could possibly become involved with the Sith?"
"Probably not. She hasn't been outside the Temple in three years." Mace bowed his head in thought.
"But you have been. Perhaps this was meant to hurt you. Or perhaps Verrat was merely attacking the Temple. Either way, I think it is time to ask Tahl about her experiences." Qui-Gon nodded in agreement.
***
"I was in my quarters, asleep. Ald-Yen and Ang-Jir were asleep also, when he came. I awoke when I felt a minor disturbance in the Force; I thought Ang-Jir might have having another nightmare again. Then there was a surge in the Force, and… I'm not sure. I must have been knocked unconscious; I can't remember anything else." Qui-Gon and Tahl sat on their sleep couch, just as the night was ending.
"He hit you over the head?" Qui-Gon asked. Tahl shook her head.
"I have no recollection of pain whatsoever. And I can't remember the trip to Tattooine. The next thing I remember is hearing you call my name." She shuddered. " It feels so strange, Qui. I feel as if I should remember something more. But when I think about, I start feeling sick…" Qui-Gon stared at her in sudden horror.
"Qui, what is it?"
"The Sith erased your memory. It wasn't Sifo-Dyas who wiped the children's memory three years ago, it was the Sith Lord."
"Which means that…" her voice trailed off as the horrible realization stripped her of her voice.
"The Ramming Stone was in league with the Sith. But," Qui-Gon began, noticing a flaw in his theory, "The Ramming Stone hates all who use the Force. Sith included."
"Perhaps he didn't know they were Sith," Tahl suggested, "It makes sense. The Sith and the Ramming Stone have a common enemy. Why not ally with the Ramming Stone, claiming to be against Force-users, and let the Ramming Stone do the dirty work?"
"But why kidnap you? And have they kept their alliance with the Ramming Stone?" Tahl hit him lightly.
"I don't know everything, Qui," she half snapped. Qui-Gon feigned shock and horror.
"What? When did this happen?" She glowered at him, though inside, she felt her heart lift. Qui-Gon had been a dark mood since the death of Obi-Wan.
"Anyway, maybe they were trying to draw us out. Maybe they wanted to show the Jedi that the Sith had returned."
"An awfully complex and costly way of showing themselves. It did cost Verrat his life. No," Qui-Gon said, his humor forgotten, "there was another reason why you were kidnapped. I just can't think-"
"Daddy, what does 'diversion' mean?" Ald-Yen called from his sleep-couch. Qui-Gon rose, and crossed over to where the boy lay.
"You should go back to sleep, son," he said gently. "You've had a long week."
"But Daddy, what does it mean?" Qui-Gon thought a moment. Sometimes he found it difficult explaining words to his son. He did not seem as bright as Ang-Jir did, though he made up for it with a willingness to learn, even at such a young age.
"A diversion is when someone does something in order to distract another person. For instance, if you start crying, you get you're my attention. While I am trying to make you feel better, your sister steals my cream puff."
"Oh." Ald-Yen's bright emerald eyes, shot through with gold, twinkled in the dawn's soft light.
"Why do you ask, Ald-Yen?" Tahl asked suddenly.
"That's what the red man said to the little black man."
"What? When was this?" Qui-Gon asked startled.
"When Mommy and Ang-Jir were asleep, the mean red man talked to a little black man. He said, 'The diversion's worked. I'll have the item hidden in no time, my Master.'" Ald-Yen squinted in confusion. "What did he mean?"
"What did the little black man look like?" Qui-Gon asked.
"He was very, very small, and he talked funny. He sounded like Padawan Toruga's pet frog!" Qui-Gon sat back.
"So Verrat was the apprentice," Qui-Gon said slowly, a theory once again forming in his mind.
"But what did they use the diversion for? And what is the item? The holocron?"
"Possibly. As for the diversion, I have no idea. Why would they want to distract me?" Qui-Gon gently ruffled his son's hair before returning to his own sleep couch.
"Well, what would have done if I hadn't been taken?"
"Taken Sifo-Dyas to his trial- no. No, I wouldn't have done that. But that doesn't make sense; why would they set up such an intricate diversion for that?"
"You would have been investigating Obi-Wan's death," Tahl said softly, voicing Qui-Gon's thoughts. "They must still be in league with the Ramming Stone. They didn't want you to know who had killed Obi-Wan."
"That where my investigation shall begin. If the Ramming Stone is involved with the Sith, he could give us much more information than any other could."
***
Obi-Wan ran blindly through the streets of Coruscant, the vision of the old Jedi's body still pounding in his head. He ran until he could no longer see the Temple, the place of refuge, of love, the place where a young girl had died and a boy had taken a life he had no right to take.
He finally stopped, the pain in his heart too great too ignore any longer. Obi-Wan fell to the ground in a small, dirty alleyway, tears flowing. He could hear the rats squeak in dismay, for he had claimed their food, the refuse as his resting place.
Obi-Wan tried to stop crying, tried to rise, tried to face the evil he had done, but realized he no longer cared. His tears could pour; his heart could wither, for he had finally reached the point of no return, he had finally crashed against the greatest stone of tragedy, and he had broken upon the crash.
For years, he had survived on love, the love of his Master, and his friends. But tragedy had stripped him of that, and he found himself living on vengeance. But that too, was now gone, for all sense of vengeance, all sense of justice had diminished at the sight of Sifo-Dyas. Now all hatred he had felt for the Ramming Stone became self-loathe, and Obi-Wan could not live any longer.
"What are you doing here, Obi-Wan?" a powerful voice, the voice of Count Dooku's, asked. Obi-Wan started, but did not rise.
"You went back to the Temple." Dooku's voice became gentle. Obi-Wan nodded, though Dooku had not asked, he had known.
"And you killed Sifo-Dyas. You're covered in blood, Obi-Wan, and I learned of his death a few minutes ago. I sensed your distress, and came in search of you. Come back to my house, Obi-Wan; I'll not tell anyone of your deeds." Obi-Wan suddenly felt the Force surge around, not warning him, but rather urging him towards Dooku. He stared at the Count in amazement. For the first time in three years, he could feel a connection. Dooku suddenly approached Obi-Wan, offering the fallen boy his hand.
Dooku came for me. He came to save me. Dooku felt my distress. He can sense my feelings.
"When you have lost everything, Obi-Wan, when everyone seems to have forgotten you, or when you have lost the courage to face your face, do not allow yourself to lay down forever, do not all yourself to break. You must get up, face your fears, face the truth." Dooku's hand still beckoned, ready and waiting.
He's the only one who can accept me for who I am.
Obi-Wan took Dooku's hand, rising from the filth. But though the face of Dooku was warm and friendly, the hand was an icy cold.
