Author's Note- Sorry I took so long to write this.
Part 8- Please Don't Be Afraid…
Ora Rutaan was a beautiful Teckilian. Her skin was deep blue, her eyes a light blue, so light it seemed as if they were completely white. Her hair was a delicate pink, like the bud of a carnation. She was dressed modestly, unusual for young female Teckilians. While Hutts preferred Twi'leks, many humanoids preferred the sensuous grace of Teckilian dancers.
Ora was not like her Teckilians contemporaries; she saw evil and corruption where they saw an easy way to make a few credits. She had worked hard in school, rising above her classmates, and had become a part of the political ring on her world. She was elected to be senator, the first Teckilian woman to have office.
However, at the moment, she was planning her resignation. She had come to Coruscant, hoping to find a world not as corrupted as her own. Unfortunately, she had been bitterly disappointed. The Senate was poorly led, greedy, and completely conflicted.
Her disappointment, however, was not the chief cause of her resignation. Her main reason was sitting directly across from her, sitting silently on his chair, red eyes glittering.
"I don't see how it will be possible. The Senate knows you have returned; security is nearly air tight."
"It can and will be done. Don't worry, Ora. I infiltrated the Jedi Temple easily enough." Ora sighed in frustration. On any other day, the man would have been more cautious. The Ramming Stone was in an excessively cocky mood, for his greatest fear was dead.
"The Temple is easy to access; they welcome strangers with open arms. The Senate, however, is not so hospitable."
"I didn't exactly walk into the Temple," the Ramming Stone growled. "I hope you give me more credit than that."
"I do. Nearly half a million more. Do you need anything more? Any more men-"
"Talon and I do better alone. We have more luck than others do, as you may remember. Now," the Ramming Stone said, leaning forward, "are you prepared for the heat you'll get? You can be linked to me."
"Well, if I change my political tune after the attack, maybe they'll think I was just another disillusioned speaker. Either way, I'll be done in politics. I'll go back to Teckilia, or maybe your home planet. Would you like that?" Ora said, a small smile crossing her lips.
"You wouldn't like my home planet. It's been in civil war for seven hundred years. Most people who visit my planet die on it. Back to business." The Ramming Stone completely ignored the fact that Ora was mildly attracted to him. He wasn't interested in love; hate filled his entire body, hate gave him purpose.
Ora caught the notion that the Ramming Stone was not interested, and withdrew, inwardly cursing herself. She knew the terrorist was not willing to love; he had lost everyone had dared to care for.
You shouldn't be attempting to seduce him, anyways, she thought in mild rebuke. Business always comes before pleasure.
"Yes. After the Senate, what do you plan to do?" The Ramming Stone grinned. The terrorist had a dark smile; it never looked innocent.
"I have unfinished business with the Jedi. After the Senate is destroyed, they will realize that they're my next target. But if I strike before they come to that conclusion, I'll have caught them. But we must strike soon, Ora. Are you prepared?"
"Yes. I'll have the thermal detonators by the end of this week. Next week, you will have the them planted and the Senate shall be purged- permanently."
***
Before Qui-Gon left for lower Coruscant, he decided to visit Bant's quarters. He had not spoken with the girl since he had been sent to apprehend Sifo-Dyas. He already knew that she had asked for extended suspension of her Padawan, for her days of mourning would be long. Obi-Wan had once been her dearest friend, and she loved him as much as Qui-Gon had.
The door was closed, but not locked. It was courteous to do so, for the Temple was a place of affinity. Qui-Gon knew that Bant would have preferred to remain undisturbed, but he felt a need to speak with her. She was the only other Jedi who Obi-Wan had truly confided in.
"Bant, it's me," he called softly. The room was dark and steamy, like the inside of a volcano. Strangely enough, he could sense tension slowly rising.
Had it been a time when the Sith were still thought extinct, when his Padawan still lived, when the Temple was still impregnable, Qui-Gon would have dismissed the tension. But he had been through too much to do so.
He drew his lightsaber, its green glow illuminating the room. Much to his dismay, it was empty.
Suddenly, he heard the scrape of a footstep, and the 'fresher door opened to reveal Bant clutching a large towel to her upper arm. She started when she saw Qui-Gon.
"Q-Qui-Gon!" She stuttered. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk with you. Mace and I are about to leave." Qui-Gon switched off his lightsaber and activated the lights.
"Low setting, please," Bant said, her voice still shaky. Qui-Gon nodded slowly and obeyed.
"I came to talk about…" Qui-Gon's voice trailed off as he stared at Bant's arm. Bant noticed his gaze.
"I just got out of the shower," Bant said quickly. "I was drying off." Qui-Gon frowned at her lie. Why would she…
Then, the terrible truth hit him. He approached her, his heart full of compassion.
"Bant," Qui-Gon said gently. "Your hair is not wet, so I know you weren't in the shower. Take off the towel." Bant stared into his eyes, begging him not to make her do it, not to reveal her greatest shame. But he remained unmoving. He knew there was only one way to find healing, and her method was not that way.
She slowly peeled off the towel, and Qui-Gon winced as he saw the dark stain of blood glimmering on the towel. The arm was worse though. On the delicate salmon skin, ugly crimson stripes stretched angrily across the arm, still dripping dark red blood.
"Don't tell Tahl," she whispered, her eyes moist with tears.
"How long have you been doing this?" Qui-Gon asked, horrified, for he could see white scars all over her upper arm.
"Ever since Obi-Wan left," she said softly. "I've tried to stop, but it keeps coming back. Sometimes I can't stop crying, but if I do this, then I feel better. I'm so ashamed."
"Bant, you can't do this to yourself. It's not your fault-"
"Isn't it? Obi-Wan ran away because when he needed to talk about Marla's death, we ignored him. We thought we were doing the right thing, but it's obvious now that it wasn't. If only I had let him speak…" Bant buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Qui-Gon gently took her by her undamaged arm and sat her down on the sleep couch.
"Bant, you cannot blame yourself. If someone must take the responsibility, it is I. I am Obi-Wan's Master, the man supposed to teach him and raise him as he would a son. I should have been ready to listen to him; instead, I let him try to bury it. And I failed him."
"Qui-Gon…" Bant said softly, her own pain forgotten. Suddenly, three years of pain came crashing down upon Qui-Gon as he sat there, realizing what had truly been in his heart.
"For three long years, I tried to forget the boy I had failed. But sometimes, when I was sitting alone, I could almost see him sitting next to me. And when I looked, and saw nothing, I would remember how I had failed him. He died alone, knowing his enemies have triumphed. I could not have given him a more terrible fate. I loved him so much, and yet I didn't bother to help him. I used the Council's orders as an excuse for not putting myself at risk. I was afraid for Tahl, and for my future children."
Qui-Gon suddenly turned to Bant, his eyes burning. "But I shall fear no longer. Too much has been taken away from me, and too much is at risk for being lost. I will defend my family, and I will make sure that Obi-Wan's memory is not forgotten. The Ramming Stone will be brought to justice. He will stand before the Senate, and the Temple, and he will pay for his crimes." Bant stared silently at Qui-Gon, and saw that he would not fail. The Ramming Stone would pay for his crimes.
But what price would Qui-Gon pay?
***
"I'm sorry, Dooku. But I must return to the Temple," Obi-Wan said softly. "I have done wrong. I want to help you, but I myself am corrupted." Soon after Dooku had taken the former Jedi to his house, Obi-Wan had decided to turn himself in. he knew it was the right thing to do, though he knew he was breaking his promise to Dooku.
"Obi-Wan, you are not corrupted," Dooku said firmly. "I'm sure it was a heated moment. You probably weren't thinking clearly. That one mistake is nothing compared to the evil of the Senate! I need you, Obi-Wan. One man cannot put an end to corruption and prevent the attack- I mean…" Dooku's voice trailed off, as Obi-Wan stared at him in horror.
"What attack? Dooku, what attack?" Obi-Wan said, his heart hammering in fear.
"The Ramming Stone is planning to destroy the Senate building and a large area of Coruscant. He, with the help of Senator Ora, has been amassing the proper equipment, for the past month. He has financial support from the Hutts, and over a thousand of thermal detonators. He has about half of those detonators implanted in various areas of the Senate area. I had only learned of this a night ago, Obi-Wan."
"Have you contacted the Senate?" Obi-Wan said, his panic growing. Dooku shook his head.
"Obi-Wan, when the Ramming Stone has finished destroying the Senate, he will turn to his secondary target: the Temple." Dooku's eyes showed no emotion whatsoever.
But fear consumed Obi-Wan Kenobi's heart. It was happening again. Somewhat close to him was going to die. Bant was going to die. Tahl was going to die. Master Yoda, all the Temple initiates, all the Jedi Masters… Qui-Gon was going to die.
"We can't let this happen, Dooku," Obi-Wan said, pushing down the fear that was drowning his mind and heart. He ran towards the door, praying that he would not be too late, that he would warn someone in time.
"I don't think so," Dooku muttered behind him. Suddenly, Obi-Wan was ripped away from the door with a violent jerk. Dooku, with astonishing speed, had grabbed the man by the arms, and had him locked in an iron grip.
"You are not going anywhere, Obi-Wan," Dooku said grimly. "Not until I have found you fit enough to go."
"Let me go, Dooku!" Obi-Wan cried, struggling. "I can save them!"
"That is not your purpose." The warm but firm voice of Dooku was abruptly stripped of its warmth, and quickly by a steely edge. "Your purpose is quite the opposite."
"W-what?" Obi-Wan stuttered in disbelief.
"You left the lighted path for a purpose, Obi-Wan. A dark purpose." Dooku wrapped one arm around Obi-Wan's chest as his free hand retrieved a small syringe from a pocket on his tunic. Only moments after, Obi-Wan heard the hiss of an injection and suddenly his muscles slacked and his eyes closed.
The last thought in his mind was of Qui-Gon, and the image of his former Master faded away into the blackness of failure.
