Farore, hey, I'm the first in the line to hug him :D But I'll send him right to you when I'm done
Get the smelling salt. Would you lend me some, Renee? Obi definitely needs it now. And he's not the only one.
Thanks, Athena.
JediGal101, you better wake up now to see what happens next :D
************ ***********
A shrill cutting noise resounded in Palpatine's office, and Nais stretched her hand across the table lazily to flip on the comm. unit. Pale, almost transparent in the bright Coruscant day hologram appeared soaring in the well conditioned air of the office. Its hazy contours flickered for a moment over the polished mahogany tabletop then stabilized. Nais straightened abruptly assuming the posture and face of a stinker-boss as the hologram's face came into focus.
"Yes, Madis," she said in a cold business-like tone. This oily sycophant was the second in her hate-list.
"I need to talk to the Lord. I have news for him. Switch into the safe mode, pretty," he said slyly. His words, his tone disgusted the woman, and she let some of her aversion show on her face.
Something feathery – either intuition or something else – itched in her mind demanding attention, bringing excitement into her hematite eyes. The excitement, which she quickly concealed under long furry eyelashes. "He's not here. You can tell me, and I'll convey your message to him."
She saw doubt cloud his rough face, his brow furred in an arduous thought process. Mistrust, laden with desire to be noted warred with urgency – a picturesque battle played out by his facial muscles. Finally urgency won the fight, although an imprint of hesitancy still lingered in his voice.
"I followed the subjects to Nartala – a mid Rim planet. They came to the local temple. A ritual of some sort is being held right now. Kenobi seems to be talking to his mother. I never seen…"
Sensing he was ready to lapse into extensive discourse Nais cut him off sharply. "To the point."
Slightly embarrassed at his verbosity the man nodded. "The point is that Kenobi's father is Lord Sidious."
For a second the information didn't register with her, and she continued to stare at Madis blankly. Then his words clicked together, the meaning filling the shape.
"What did you say?"
"I said Kenobi is Lord Sidious' own child."
"Very well. I will tell the Lord. Continue watching them." She switched off the comm. hastily, and leaned back in the black throne-like chair.
A half formed idea sprang into her mind, teasing her with specter-colored tail of possibilities. Slowly Nais rolled a pencil between her fingers, lost in her reverie. She was sure this bit of news was very important – more than that it could Palpatine bring to his demise. She only needed to figure out how to use it.
She needed time.
Time…
She threw the pencil onto the table sharply as her first step took shape in her mind. She needed time and she would get it. Hurriedly Nais punched a code into the comm., throwing back the hair from her forehead with one graceful shake of her head.
A hologram of a young man appeared over the table. He scowled at her sight but quickly schooled his regular features into a polite frown.
"Iktar, do you know Madis?"
"That slippery fellow? Yes, I do remember him. Why do you ask?"
"He's on Nartala now, at the local temple called Nardiss if I'm not mistaken." She knew she wasn't. She had always been good in memorizing details.
"So what?" Iktar's voice showed clearly that he was very busy and unless she had some business in mind she better finish the conversation.
"I want him dead." Nais stated coldly. She risked. She risked very much saying this. She could only hope Iktar wouldn't go to Sidious and tell him of this. Because if he did a fate worse than death awaited her.
Though there weren't many fates worse than what she had now.
A tantalizing minute of silence passed as Iktar studied her closely. She clasped her hands nervously under the table. Agree or disagree?
"Did he get on your nerves so much?" the man finally laughed. Nais blew a silent sigh of relief. "Okay, I'll get the universe rid of that scum. You owe me one." With a flick of his wrist he ended the conversation.
Nais brushed her fingers through her long amber-colored locks. Now that she made sure Sidious doesn't learn about his son too soon – though she had no doubt he would learn eventually – now that she had a bit of time to act first she needed to work out her steps precisely, she had no right for mistake. And she needed to act really fast.
For many years she had been looking for a weaknesses in him – weaknesses that might help her destroy him – and found none. He was always careful, always alert. A brilliant strategist he calculated his every step like a genius chess player. And he always seemed to know what his enemies would do next.
Sometimes she wondered how come he didn't know she wanted to destroy him – wanted desperately, passionately, to the trembling in the knees. And only recently had she come to realize that it was her natural shielding at work. Her shields were strong enough to keep him out of her most concealed thoughts. Everything else that went through her mind was laid out for him to examine, to poke with his dirty fingers. But the shields protected a small portion of her thoughts and plans – the portion she would have been instantly killed for had he known.
Truth to tell, her shields weren't all that natural. Though based on the shields every living being possesses more or less they had been skillfully aided to become more adamantine, more impenetrable.
It had been done when she had been no more than three when both her parents died a horrible death before her very eyes. She had been in silent stupor for two weeks after that, too deeply affected, too vastly hurt to notice the world of the living. And then the shields were erected, based on her own but strengthened to a great extent. She carried them ever since.
Her thoughts returned to the present as a reckless speeder flew too close to the office's window, disrupting the silence she was immersed in. Nais straightened. She couldn't make it on her own, she needed a counsel. And she knew where to get it. The person who built these shields for her the one who raised her. Yes, there she would get a wise advice.
Swiftly Nais Kobierta left Palpatine's office and headed to the place only few knew about.
************* ************
"Your father's name is…" she paused, gauging his reaction, and then as though reluctant she squeezed out the name, "Darth Sidious."
The name fell like thunder on the unsuspecting head, tearing and breaking the thin-layered fabric of reality. Startled, shaken to the core of his soul Obi-Wan recoiled from the dais, from her lovely image and from her terrible words. He looked in horror at his mother – this woman who suddenly seemed a distant stranger in the dusk.
"W-what… How… Y-you couldn't… How could you?!" Words didn't come together, breaking apart, shattering into pieces like fractured glass. What she said was impossible, unthinkable, unreal – he couldn't accept it. His clouded sapphire eyes met her equally troubled green ones, searching for denial, pleading for mercy.
She lowered her eyes as though in shame, as though she couldn't stand the intensity of prayer in his luminous eyes.
"I'm sorry…" a hushed whisper flew from her lips to melt in the suffocating air. "Sorry to bring this upon you."
"No!" The fierceness of his voice startled her. Wincing she looked up at him again. "It's impossible!"
"Obi-Wan…" her words died away, choked by the shock hanging in the air, washed away by brilliant tears.
"Do you…" he swallowed hard. "Do you know who he is – what he is?"
~Madness, this is madness. She couldn't have married a Sith! He doesn't even exist, does he?~
~But he does, and you know it!~
~But he can't be… can't be my… father!~
~Oh, blast!~
Obi-Wan looked up. Tanarine's face, illuminated with tender flames, seemed to be an incarnation of innocence, of ethereal beauty.
"Did you – know?" he asked again.
Her voice was thin and faltering when she started to speak again softly, but her words cut into his mind like knives to be forever engraved there. "I didn't know then. When I first met him he was a young man – he was so nice to me, so gallant, so… We spent much time together… I fell in love. He was the best! We married, and I happily left my life here to be his wife." She smiled, and her smile held the unspeakable bittersweet sadness of pleasant memory. "It was the happiest time in my life! I loved and was loved. We had everything a family can wish for. And he… he was so attentive, so loving, so devoted – I couldn't have wished for a better husband. We were in heaven…" Her face got a faraway look as memories swept her up in a sweet whirlwind.
With a visible effort she returned herself to the present. "In nine months a baby was born – the child of our love. It was a boy, and we called him… Avayn."
Obi-Wan looked her in the eyes, his mind imbued with surprise. Wasn't she talking about him? Hope rose in him belying everything: belying logic and crazed screams of his common sense – baseless, desperate hope, a thin silver string to hold on to – and he held onto it.
She sighed and continued her story.
"It was you. Yes, the first name you were given is Avayn. I named you Obi-Wan later myself. He was so glad then, so caring! For the whole year we lived together and we were the happiest family until…" She paused to draw a shuddering breath, and a shadow seemed to cross her features.
Obi-Wan didn't take his eyes away from her, unable to move, listening hungrily, two desires tearing him apart, taking away all the words – a desire to know as much as possible about himself even if it breaks his heart; and desire to run away, to shut her words out and never hear them again.
"Until I learned who he was. Until I learned – by pure accident – how dark he was, how cruel, merciless. When I learned that I… I was scared. I didn't know what to do, where to run, how to save you from him. I didn't want you to become like him – and I had no doubts he would have made you…" She looked at her son, and Obi-Wan felt his heart contract painfully at all the gentleness, all the love her gaze carried – and all the anguish.
He reached his hand to touch her, to soothe her, to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Flames met his hand gleefully, but he didn't pay them any attention, craving the physical contact he was denied for many years, craving the reassurance this was real, craving to be a comforter… But his hand met only air, empty air and searing pain as flames licked his bare skin. He retracted his hand feeling something inside himself fade and die in agony. And he was denied what little solace a single touch could bring – denied forever.
"And I ran. I ran away thoughtlessly, hastily, not knowing where to go, how to hide for he… he was – and still is – so powerful, nothing would have stopped him. I don't know if he loved you – after what I learned I don't think I ever knew anything about him at all. But I know that he wanted a son – a successor. If he finds out you still live…" She lowered her face into her hands. Silence fell heavily, cloaking the room. Candles flickered.
"And so I ran," Tanarine's voice was nothing more than a whisper now, yet it drummed in her son's ears like thunder. "I came here, but didn't return to the Nardiss. I was too scared – and too lonely. I knew I couldn't trust anyone because any person could turn out to be his spy. I knew he would find me sooner or later…" A hiccup broke her speech, and Obi-Wan's heart broke at the sound.
"Please, don't." His own voice sounded alien to him – too hoarse, too broken.
"I escaped him. By sheer luck. He thought me to be dead – he thought we were both dead. And he stopped the search. I married Parel but could never escape the fear. Fear ruled my life ever since. Every time a stranger came to our home or Owen or Parel were late my heart sank with fear. From all the love I once had I was left only fear." Her voice became louder, anger ringing clearly in it. " He … He made me like this. He turned my life into living hell!" she cried in hate, choking on her tears.
"But most of all I feared for you. I wanted so much to keep you with me, wanted my beloved son to be always with me, but if he found me… I couldn't bear the thought of you becoming like him… And I called the Jedi. I gave you up to them. The last ray of light was gone from me that day. But I knew… I knew it was for the better. They could protect you, they could teach you how to use your powers – powers you inherited from him – how to use them for good."
Their gazes locked, transferring emotions better than any words ever could, sharing the pain, easing the fear – two pairs of identical eyes, finding consolation in each other.
Soundlessly long moments flowed around them, wrapping them up in the fleeting eternity of shared feelings – shared for the last time.
And then the connection broke, the two of them becoming again but the lonesome strangers.
"I need to tell you one more thing…"
"That my grandfather is a devil?" The bitter sarcasm in his voice startled even him, but he could not take the words back, could not silence them once they were said. He could only watch her recoil in shame and guilt, could feel the guilt settle in his own heart. How could he be so cruel to her?
"You have all the right to hate me now…" she said dejectedly.
"But I don't," he protested, and she silenced him with a wave of her hand.
"When we married his name was different."
"What does it matter?"
"Please, it's important…" The floor suddenly shook under his feet, and Tanarine's image fluttered dangerously as Obi-Wan's concentration wavered. "His other name is…"
She never finished as the massive earthquake overtook the building, shaking it violently. Flames flared up as the burning plate with oil jumped on the water. A tall candle fell, then another followed it down. A new powerful tremble had Obi-Wan thrown to the ground, covering his face as burning candles crashed onto him, setting fire to his clothes, charring his skin.
A crystal-clear thought laced harshly through his mind – perhaps it was the Force itself speaking – and he climbed back onto his knees, throwing the candles away.
"What is his other name?!" he cried into gloomy emptiness over the heart-rending groans of the shuddering building. "Tell me!" But there was no one to answer him – Tanarine was gone, her image had disintegrated as his concentration failed.
"No! Don't go!" he screamed, leaping onto his feet in a surge of near panic. Suddenly all energy left him, his knees gave way, and he crashed back onto the stone floor, gripping the soft wax of the candles blindly.
"Please…" His broken whisper echoed around the hollow room to return to him in a mocking plea.
And then it hit him – all that he had heard, the meaning of the words that had been said hit him in a huge wave of realization, and he got lost in it, drawing short raspy breaths, writhing on the floor.
His father – the man who should be the support, the one to be proud of – was the Lord of the Sith. The dark monster that sent Darth Maul, the monster that ordered Qui-Gon be killed.
Raw pain rushed up in a surge of blood, and he struck the floor with his fist.
He was the son of the murderer of the one who had been his only father – the closest person – for twelve years.
He was bound by blood to the one who was the reason of Qui-Gon's death.
Wasn't it betrayal in itself?
Wasn't it the worst betrayal possible?
Suddenly the darkness of the room seemed unbearable, boiling with tight emotions, and Obi-Wan got onto his feet shakily. Stumbling, hobbling he made a few steps with no direction, his hands roaming the air blindly. Time froze for him as he wandered the room, frantically trying to find a way out.
Heavy doors budged under his hands, and blinding sun assaulted his tear-filled eyes. His body suddenly felt as though made of lead, weighing him down. He made a step… then another.
And then he could take no more. Bonelessly he sank to his knees. A distant call reached his muddled brain, but he was unable to recognize the voice patterns or make out the words. Hazy spots filled his eyes with dizzying kaleidoscope.
A shadow blocked the sun from him, and he reached his hand out to it sightlessly, then collapsed to the ground as blissful darkness encompassed him.
*********** ***********
