Athena, I'm not cruel, I'm just slightly evil :))) I guess me and you will have to find a way to hug him together at once, because he is certainly going to need it much throughout the fic, lol.
Oh, I didn't mean to upset you so, Farore. Don't cry. Kicking butts – there'll be a lot of that :) only… who and whose? By the way, what exactly confuses you in the title?
Jedi Padawan, how do you expect Sidious to recognize Obi-Wan's presence among many other Jedi when he is sure his son is dead? Besides, remember, Obi-Wan couldn't contact his mother – and she was still alive then. He had inherited something from her too. You'll see what it is later. And you are absolutely right in your assumptions about his fathers. You even put them in the right time order.
Renee: Other Sith? You mean Nais? She's not a Sith but she is up to something… read and see, the fic is long :)
************ ***********
Several hours had passed since the massive earthquake had overtaken the temple and shaken it to the core. And it had been several hours since Obi-Wan lay stock-still and ashen-pale on the wide bed that was lovingly swathed with ornate covers. The drapes fell down softly to rest at the feet of the young girl who was sitting at the bedside. Her worried lilac eyes watched continuously the slow rise and fall of the knight's chest, stripped of the parched clothes, gleaming with matte glow of salve in the crimson rays of low sun.
Her hand touched lightly his pallid lithe fingers, wanting to squeeze but daring not under the heavy scrutiny of the small guard on the other side of the bed whose azure eyes watched her warily, zealously and with a tint of jealousy.
Anakin in his fright – multiplied tenfold when he had seen Obi-Wan collapse – had refused to let go of his Master's hand and now sat next to him on the bed, alert for any kind of shift in the unconscious knight's face. But his eyes kept straying to the young woman next to him – to this unexpected rival in tending to his Master.
He wasn't quite sure why was he feeling this sudden animosity towards her. It seemed to be uncalled for. But was it? He looked over possible reasons mentally as Obi-Wan had taught him. Why could he feel hostility in the first place? He curled his puffy lips in thought.
One of the reasons was if he had been attacked. This reason appeared stupid, though, and he almost snorted. Telliko had never attacked him like Sebulba or any other bully on Tatooine would. No, she was nice and kind all the time.
Another reason might be if he saw someone really ugly. Like that kidraku spider he had once stumbled upon in the Temple Gardens. He could still vividly recall the disgust and fright he felt looking at the creature. He remembered the heated frenzy with which he grabbed a rock and smashed the spider again and again. He felt his cheeks redden in shame as he recalled how that very morning his Master had lectured him on the price of every life; and then he had gone and taken a life. But what an ugly and useless life that had been!
He was suddenly very glad that the sun was so low, tinting the room with the red sunset shadows. He raised his eyes at Telliko again. This reason didn't fit either: she was nowhere near ugly. On contrary, he found her very beautiful, almost as beautiful as Padme – his Angel.
An unbidden thought made him frown. If he had an angel that meant Obi-Wan could have an angel, too. A quick studying glance at the knight, then back at the woman. What if?.. Heat rose in his stomach, but not a pleasant heat. He narrowed his eyes as an unknown emotion twisted his innards in knots.
Inadvertently his thoughts turned to his mother, and he searched for this emotion in their relationship – and found none. She had always been his and his alone. He didn't have any siblings, he didn't have even a father to share her with. He had always been one and only.
But in the last months everything had changed. The simple connections he had had on Tatooine were replaced by more sophisticated and refined – cultured as some would say – relationships of the larger world. And he sometimes found himself lost in the webs of pretence, not knowing who was true and who was not.
And at such moments his emotions used to tangle, tripping him on his own thoughts, confusing him. And that was what his relationship with Obi-Wan sometimes was – confusing, unclear.
At first, after a habit, he had thought that Obi-Wan as the closest being to him would be just as his mother had been – only his. But he had been quickly proved wrong. The very moment they had stepped out of the transport that had brought them from Naboo to Coruscant. That moment a whirlwind of beige had all but slammed into them, wrapping itself around the newly knighted Jedi's neck. Anakin had resisted an urge to grab at his Master's cloak lest he'd be swept away by the unknown attacker.
The attacker, however, turned out to be Obi-Wan's life-long friend Bant, who having greeted her friend had turned her large round eyes at the small apprentice. With a pang of surprise Anakin had realized that her eyes had been silver just as Obi-Wan had described them. To his relief she hadn't been much taller than him, which had earned her a bit more of his sympathy.
But now, recalling this first meeting, he knew that this unknown emotion had been there also, buried beneath layers of wonder and surprise, weariness and grief. It was weak, unnoticeable then but it was there and dark in its origins.
Absently his fingers found an anchor that tied him to the Jedi and more importantly to Obi-Wan, a physical evidence of their connection – the braid. The tips of his fingers ran lightly over the plaited softness, then suddenly wrapped around it. It wasn't yet long enough for him to see, but he knew how it looked: sometimes he spent minutes in the 'fresher, looking in a mirror, examining the double colored braid – fiery bright with locks of Obi-Wan's hair and sandy blond where his hair mixed in, interwoven tightly – the symbol of their strength together.
A sound of the opening door startled him out of his thoughts, and he raised the questioning eyes at the entering woman. She smiled at him warmly.
"It is getting late. The little one needs rest," she said quietly.
"I will sleep here," Anakin protested, laying a hand onto Obi-Wan's exposed shoulder for emphasis.
"He needs his rest, and you need yours," the woman disagreed.
"But if he wakes…"
"Telliko will give him whatever he needs. She will stay here and take care of him."
"But… if he needs me?" He looked around desperately as though searching for a argument for them to let him stay.
"I will call you if he needs you," Telliko cut in.
Anakin shot her a glare that was not – quite – withering. She refused to be withered, looking at him with clear violet eyes.
Vastly outnumbered Anakin hung his head, hopped down from the bed and followed the woman out sulkily.
At the door he paused, throwing one last glance at the sleeping knight and the woman beside him. A thought struck him, and he curled his lips in distaste. He knew what happened when a man and a woman stayed alone in a room. On Tatooine such things weren't a subject to hide, and he had seen and heard enough to be unsettled now. Of course, Obi-Wan was unconscious, but Anakin wasn't too well acquainted with this issue to be sure if it would be an obstacle.
************* ************
Rain greeted Jango Fett as his ship settled onto the round gray landing platform of Tipoca city. He swept the place with a quick professional glance, taking in the sleek as though smoothed by water contours of the buildings, the dim glow of tall beacons, hopelessly lost under the veil of downpour. Splinters of sky fell into waves in tight torrents of spurts.
The silent ominous buildings showed no sign of activity. Only a small oval hole of a door shone against the darkened background of the obscure structures. Done with the preliminary survey Jango left the warm coziness of his ship and stepped out into the rain.
He was immediately drowned in the cascades of water, and his clothes became wet, sticking to his body, hindering his moves. He usually liked water, but not in such amounts. Cursing under his breath Jango made a few steps to the only entrance.
Two transparent plates slid to the sides, revealing a sparkling white corridor. Alert, hand on the blaster holster, Jango stepped into the corridor slowly. The doors soundlessly shut behind him. Gazing around the bounty hunter waited.
His wait wasn't long however as a bizarre creature rounded the corner. Tall and slender, it looked like it might break any moment. It walked swaying slightly, gracious and frightening at the same time.
"Hello, Jango Fett," the creature intoned in a strangely soft singsong voice. Two large smoky eyes peeped out from the bulbous head. "My name is Lanu To. Please follow me."
Shrugging the man followed, feeling as though he had walked in dirty boots into an infirmary.
************ ***********
A thin lonely figure, covered in voluminous flowing black cloak from head to toe, slipped from the Senate building like a sneaking shadow. On a large open landing platform it paused, choosing a transport. Sable eyes peeked keenly from under the hood that covered the face from undesired onlookers perfectly. Choosing a swoop-bike the figure strode swiftly to it and climbed on with a startling grace. With the low grumble the engine came to life and the inky swoop with its passenger sped off into the web of Coruscant's traffic.
The figure, however didn't notice a small – about ten centimeters in diameter – spy-droid that had attached itself under one of the swoop's short wings.
The rider took a winding track – it was obvious that he or she knew well the enormous city's streets – and the trip ended at one of the spaceports. Dismounting quickly, the rider left the swoop and plunged into a mass of creatures, mixing with the crowd.
The spy-droid disconnected from the swoop's bottom and with a thin barely audible whine started after the retreating figure.
With a surprising dexterity the black-clad figure made its way into the spaceport's building. Entering the tall glass doors that were constantly open, letting the two surges of beings pass in the opposite directions, the figure ran to the side, brushing the beings around it with the folds of its cloak. It found a small niche and squeezed itself into it. Once away from the nudges of the bubbling crowd the figure lowed the hood to reveal the attractive though somewhat pale face of Nais Kobierta. She scanned the huge hall with a vigilant sharp glance before starting on her way to the ticket-office.
But in all her cautiousness she failed to notice the droid, following her effortlessly in the distance.
Snapping edgy glances to the sides every now and then she bought a ticket to a transport heading to one of Coruscant's moons. Hiding the ticket beneath her cloak the woman started to walk toward the landing platform when she finally noticed her little tracker. She stopped abruptly, as though shot. Her exquisite face paled even more. This could only be one of Palpatine's droids, and if he learned what she was up to…
Nais bit her lip. ~What to do?!~ her mind screamed. ~What to do now?!~
A plan formed in her head.
Pretending to have missed the black sphere, hovering unobtrusively some three meters away, she started to walk again, trying instinctively to catch the rhythm of the crowd, to become one with it. Heart pounded loudly in her chest, almost covering the noise of variegated speech that filled the spaceport's air. Breathlessly she counted in a whisper.
One…
Two…
Three…
Go!
With a lightning-quick gesture she threw her cloak onto a nearby Bothan and started towards the nearest column in a dead run. People shouted and jerked in different directions. Chaos ensued. Rounding the column she leaned against it, panting, barely able to breathe. Putting a hand to her chest she steadied her racing heart a bit and only then did she dare to peek around the column.
The wave of panic had died down already, the disorganized rows had resumed their endless drift. Only the droid was still flying over the crowd back and forth searching, obviously at a loss as to where its persecuted had vanished. Squinting Nais saw a strip of black fabric clasped tightly in the droid's manipulators.
Poor Bothan. But her secret was much more precious to her than the Bothan's wounded pride.
Sliding away from the metal column Nais mixed with the crowd, unseen.
*********** **********
Telli pushed the soft drapes apart and entered the small room that Sadagail called her office. The old woman's tender eyes came up from the data-pad on the table before her to look at the girl.
"Mato Kalia, I think Obi-Wan should stay here for at least a week," Telliko stated straight away.
"Do you really think he needs it?" The eyes of the old woman danced with sparkles.
What was she up to, Telliko wondered.
"Of course. It is quiet here, peaceful, nature all around. And Coruscant, I've read, has much transport, even more population and there are no trees at all."
"Tell it to their Council." A cunning smile at the very corners of her lips made her look like a silver tulustian fox.
"How is that?"
"How? Like usual. They will contact us again, and you'll tell them. One of them called this morning already – a gloomy swarthy fellow, he wasn't happy from the looks of him that I didn't call tsa-lilae here – like I would care to wake him only because this 'Master Windu' wanted to talk." Sadagail huffed. "He wanted to talk to Anakin instead, but why bother the child? All in all he disconnected empty-handed. So it's your turn to talk to them."
A lump of sticky fear came to her throat. Talk to the Jedi? And the Council no less. But there was no time for thinking – and being nervous – as the comm. unit started to beep, announcing the incoming transmission.
The hologram swayed a little, then stabled, though some surges of static still ran through it, distorting the image. It was indeed a 'gloomy swarthy fellow'. He looked before him frowningly, as though someone had stolen his family jewels.
Pulling down her tunic and straightening herself Telliko entered the transmission circle. The man frowned even more.
"Good day," she said with a light bow. "I'm Telliko."
His face showed… nothing, actually. Like a stone statue.
"I would like to speak to Knight Kenobi," he spoke in such a tone as if she were a droid.
"I'm afraid it is impossible. He is still asleep."
Did she really see the annoyance in his dark eyes?
"Then tell him when he wakes up that he must immediately return to Coruscant." The Master reached out to shut the transmission.
"No."
She seemed to have surprised him.
"Pardon me?"
"Obi-Wan Kenobi must stay here for at least a week. He needs rest."
Judging by the Master's expression, which had finally stopped being an impassive mask, Telliko had passed all bounds. Apparently he wasn't used to being contradicted, especially by some snotty provincial girl. She had a feeling he might start throwing daggers at her. Telli began to pluck at her tunic's hem behind her back. She was glad the hologram was so small – just a meter high. If he towered over her…
"Knight Kenobi must return to Coruscant immediately." His voice was laced with icy chill.
"In no way!" She didn't notice as she got angry. "Do you have no sense at all? He needs his break, and you're going to give him a mission or something…"
Was it her imagination or did she truly hear that chuckle, coming from the other side of transmission? Windu threw her a glare that almost made her step back.
"All right, he has a week."
The hologram went off abruptly. Had she really won? Telliko looked around and found the smiling eyes of Sadagail. It seemed so.
*********** **********
"Are you sure it is right to let him stay there?" The not-so-very-pleased Mace Windu turned away from the comm. unit to regard Yoda who sat on a mat next to him.
The green Master seemed to be pleased, though his posture – hands folded on the top of his ever-present gimer stick, his chin resting on them – showed nothing of his amusement. But Mace knew him all too well to miss that particular sparkle in the large greenish yellow eyes. Besides he had heard the chuckle that the other had made no attempt to cover.
"Right that girl is, rest he needs," Yoda said in his usual rustling voice. "And let him rest we shall."
"Why did we call him back at all, then?" the swarthy Master enquired, lowering himself onto the blue mat and crossing his legs.
"A disturbance I sense. Sith that might be." Yoda paused, then finished almost as an afterthought, "Or might not."
Mace stapled his fingers together. He had sensed something as well, but it had been so vague, unfocused that he could neither determine what it was nor pinpoint its location.
"Do you know of its origins?" he asked the older Jedi.
The pointed ears twitched slightly as though antennas, searching for the right sequence.
"On Coruscant it is, hmm," Yoda said slowly. "Sector Z-tan."
"You are so certain?" Mace raised the surprised eyes at his counterpart, but the other's eyes were closed. "I think this means we should send someone to investigate…"
Getting no response Windu picked a data-pad and scanned the records. His brows furred in a frown.
"We don't have many capable Jedi at the Temple right now." Flipping through a few more pages he finally stopped. "I think Knight Balan-Tar will do fine. He has been knighted just a month ago but he seems to be capable of an investigation even if it leads him to lower levels."
"Send him," Yoda grumbled.
The younger Master got up to leave the room but paused at the door.
"If you thought we can send someone else why did you have me call Kenobi?" he asked suspiciously.
"To know how he is doing I wanted."
Mace shook his head: either there was something he overlooked or Yoda was starting to live out of his mind.
*********** **********
