Chapter Five: Salus populi suprema lex

The room was majestic but simple. A large bed was the centerpiece, with blue and silver linens adorning it and the thick blanket emblazoned with the Jinn family crest. The furniture in the room was made of a thick dark wood, expensive and fine looking when illuminated through the thin paper curtains that covered the rooms large, sweeping windows. Various baubles decorated the room, images meant to fill empty spaces rather then accurately symbolizing the owner's personality. There was a crystal statue in one corner that seemed to capture the light and cast it on a shelf of worn tomes of Parcaen literature. In another corner, a white tree with sliver leaves obscured a small nightstand.

Obi Wan Kenobi drew a breath and held it as he crept closer to the nightstand, reaching out and pushing away the branches to see the objects it hid, even though he knew what it possessed.

There was a face that floated frozen in time staring up at him. It was a man with something gracing his lips that could be considered a smile, and a definite twinkle to his blue-green eyes that seemed to promise mirth. He wore simple clothes, robes of a simple design and the material was of a finer quality with the Jinn crest hanging in gold around his neck. His long shoulder-length hair was braided into one thick plait, rather then worn loose as it was normally worn and at the tip of the braid was a teal cloth to match his attire.

The man looked proper and fitting in such finery that Obi Wan could almost believe that this was his natural state rather then a custom forced on him every few years.

Gasping slightly from the old pain, Obi Wan laughed bitterly as he brushed his fingers over the vid's frame and reaching the button to activate it. In a moment, the still frame came to life, invoking memory as the man became animated.

Even from this distance, Obi Wan could still hear the music from the celebrations as clearly as he heard Gai Vinn's laughter beside him. They were in Megiddo's commons, and his Master was being forced as he put it to pose for vids and answer questions from reporters in an impromptu news conference. Most of Qui Gon's siblings seemed utterly entertained by the spectacle of their brother in something beside his familiar brown Jedi robes: his eldest sister Senator Vivanna stood with a forced smile as she directed the publicity crew to capture the best lighting and right angles. His only surviving brother, Adam stood a few paces away from Qui Gon speaking soothingly to his brother that this torment would be over soon. Ceren and Enaya, the two younger sisters, reclined a few paces away from Gai Vinn and Obi Wan, speaking rapidly to Gai Vinn in their native Parcaen, referring to Qui Gon as, the best Obi Wan could tell, a plumed bird.

"I'm quite certain this is a form of torture outlawed by the Republic," Qui Gon was saying to Adam. His voice was light and shaking from laughter, and Adam's voice was also thick with mirth.

"Quit whining, brother." Adam said, glancing at the reporters and smiling as they caught a shot of him.

It was no secret the Jinn family were camera shy, but when the elusive patriarch of the family came for a visit, Megiddo turned out in full force; spilling open their glittering palace, renown stables and glittering orchards and courtyards for all to see and partake of. It was a private family moment made into a public celebration for the mere reason Qui Gon was home and he was happy.

Obi Wan smiled. It was as if his Master's emotions had taken on earthly form and nourished his surroundings. Despite Qui Gon's rebukes and annoyed glances, the Jedi Master was deeply glad to be in such familiar settings. Put simply, the Jedi Master was home and he was basking in it.

And in the warm of the moment, amid the jokes, and photography; Obi Wan felt at home too.

"Master Jedi," Qui Gon turned to the female reporter and nodded. Her voice was low and timid compared to the others who were shouting his name or questions or both- eager to hear what he, a Jedi royal, felt on matters. The woman, struck by being acknowledged, stumbled over her words for a moment and then found her strength. "You recently supported the succession of the wealthy L'Nore system from the Kingdom; a succession that cost the Kingdom 15 percent of its revenue. What do you say to those who believed the L'Nore's calls for sovereignty merely the demands of a vocal minority? What do you say to those who claim your loyalties to Parcae are trampled as you become a Republican lackey?"

"King Ramir trusted me to find the most beneficial outcome for all parties, and I have done so." Qui Gon said, although Obi Wan noticed the smallest trace of weariness in his Master's voice as if this had been something Qui Gon had dealt with in one form or another for some time. "I did what I thought was best: first as Jedi, yes but also as an Elite. I love Parcae, and am proud to claim it as my home."

"What of the edicts placed by the Jedi that their Knights are to have no home?"

"What the Council wishes is that the Knights have no attachment that will draw them away from the central purpose: to maintain peace and order. I feel these goals are the same as the Parcaen Kingdom's." He took a beat, then leveled his eyes on the woman. "Or has Parcae lost her mercy as some would claim?"

The Reporter was stunned silent. Obi Wan noticed his Master had a smug look on his face that stirred something in Obi Wan uneasily. Like with most things, Qui Gon seemed to be treading a very thin line between objectivity and his loyalty to the Jedi mandates. More importantly, Obi Wan sensed that Qui Gon was actually enjoying this display.

Obi Wan's attention snapped away from his daydream, angered: mostly at himself. He did not like where his mind was going nor did he care much for the conclusions it was drawing from the memory. He exhaled as he replaced the photograph and waited for his quiet observer to make a comment. He didn't have to wait long.

"You give the dead too much sway." Briand's voice was low, and concerned. "Qui Gon was a great man, but I think you may be trying to fight his battles even now."

"I don't know what you are implying."

"You profess that you are open-minded but I sense your feelings on this subject." She paused just long enough to close the distance between them. "You will give the Mal-Batz no room to negotiate."

"They're all liars, murderers and thieves. It is not Parcae's policy to negotiate with such terrorists and I will not force a King who is in the right to forfeit justice because it would service the Republic better."

"Spoken like a true Parcean." Briand observed. "I wonder if it is Obi Wan who speaks, or Qui Gon."

"I don't like what you're implying, Creed."

"Deny it once more." Briand countered. "See if it sticks this time."

"What do you want from me?" He asked, turning to face her. "All around me I'm faced with memories of my Master, of his contributions. How can you ask me not to honor them?"

"All I am asking is for you to be a Jedi. That is the best way to honor Qui Gon." The female's darkened for a moment, and pained though she was, she stepped closer to him. "The pain you feel is yours alone, Obi Wan and try as I might, I cannot touch it. I can only offer…"

"You're wrong." Obi Wan said finally. He rose slowly to his full height to regard her. "Adame feels my pain. She knows."

Whatever counter Briand was meaning to try was cut short by the sharp disturbance in the Force. Both Obi Wan and Briand tensed as their hands fell to their respective sabers, drawing attention to the purpled sky turned gray with smoke a few moments later. There was a loud explosion that made the windows shake in their sills, and the furniture jump in place. A short, shrill alarm followed; the ancient system used by the Parcaens when Galatia was still vulnerable to severe winter storms, now being used to alert medics, healers and police.

Within a few moments, the two Jedi were in the heart of the chaos. Obi Wan heard a flutter of languages crying out to various deities and outsiders for help. Many Parcaens who had struggled free of the wreckage had begun to shift through the debris, following voices to find other survivors. Bandstands, craft and food vendors were overturn and forgotten, the power grid had been partially destroyed, creating the eerie effect of festive lights sparking to illuminate broken buildings and overturned patios.

Obi Wan felt Briand shift nervously. She spoke quickly, but hushed to him. "The fear is too thick, I can't sense my Padawan. Anything?"

So far, Obi Wan had been pushing the tremor of fear away from his mind but now found the need to confront it. He sighed, and shook his head. "No, which means they're not dead. We would have felt that."

"You're right." She whispered, then again with more assurance. "You're right."

"Do we know what's happened?"

"The Mal-Batz is what's happened!"

Obi Wan turned to see Gai Vinn storm towards them. His eyes were blackened, and clothes bloodied from rescue attempts. He grunted at them, motioning for them to follow. "The bomb was placed in the old Cathedral, one of the more populated areas during the celebration. A second one went off a few moments afterwards, claiming the lives of some security and aide personnel. Currently, Adame is searching the area attempting to find other bombs but we think they're done." Gai Vinn inhaled in a futile attempt to control his temper. "There are a lot of people still missing…Amri included. Adame could use your help. She'll need all the backing she can get once Elias passes judgment on this. Mal-Batz will hang for this treason."

"We did not commit this act."

The voice was low and simple, devoid of any polishing or prose. To any ear, it would sound like the simple voice of a farmer and indeed the woman's robes were those of Eire nomad- the simplest and most elusive race of the Parcae's main system. Dark and Jedi-like in her simplicity, the woman wore her hair long, trailing to some uncertain length down her back and interwoven with leather as a form of adornment. She donned a heavy broad-ax strapped to her back that on Eire would have denoted her rank as ruler of the tribes but in the clean and civilized city of Galatia merely made her appear barbaric.

"We're a political organization." She continued, her brogue worn and similar to the Jinn family's. "Not a terrorist group."

"Tell that to those who have lost their lives today." Gai Vinn countered.

She regarded him in the eye, which made the Senator squirm. "We did not do this act, I swear it on my honor!"

"Your honor is worth less then dirt!" He shouted.

"While yours is brought with baubles and trinkets, Senator!"

"Enough!" Briand shouted. "Now we all having missing here, I say we put aside our anger till this is settled. There'll be room enough for talk later."

"Agreed." The woman murmured as she turned to face the Senator. "Come, let's us go and help those who still can be saved."

Obi Wan watched the two retreat back into the chaos with a diminishing spirit. He sighed nervously and followed suit.

"Well." Briand whispered to him. "So much for happy endings."