TITLE: SILENT SHATTERING
AUTHOR: Cascadia
CHAPTER 4 - WE WRESTLE NOT AGAINST FLESH AND BLOOD
The dimness of the corridor only darkened the further he walked. Before, he could at least see which way it turned, but now he had to rely on the Force to guide him. Although his link felt weak, it served well enough to keep him from bumping into a wall.
The corridor suddenly fell away to a descending, metal spiral staircase. Stopping at the edge, the padawan reconsidered whether he should turn back or not. He could sense no guidance from the Force. So, after several momentary pauses, he started down the steps - careful to stay alert. He stepped cautiously on the first step, prudent to test his weight on the metal slat before proceeding further. Carefully descending down the winding steps, he checked each one before committing his entire weight.
He was making a reckless decision, he reluctantly told himself - investigating something odd like this without his master's knowing. But, there had been no danger at this house thus far. And, besides that, what did it matter now? His reputable master would undoubtedly be through with him. Grievously killing a man's friend - unintentional though it may have been - is not the best way to endear yourself to someone. Obi-Wan almost laughed at that thought. And if Qui-Gon would not have him, then he ultimately did not care what happened to himself anymore.
That was all he had fought so hard for. To be a Jedi apprentice to the highly esteemed Qui-Gon Jinn - the great, respected, sublime Jedi master. The man that had been nominated to be on the lofty Jedi Council not once, but twice. The man that never quite got over Xanatos' betrayal. How would that man get over his friend's death at the hand of a pathetic, weak padawan that nobody ever wanted... until he was practically forced on him by... what? Yoda? the Force? Even if it was the Force that brought them together that still did not mean that Qui-Gon WANTED that.
/Master Qui-Gon blames you/ said a derisive voice inside his head.
/No. He didn't say that/ he answered back.
/You HURT him. You KILLED his friend/ the mocking voice continued.
/I didn't mean to. It was a mistake./
/He condemned you./
/No. Master Qui-Gon would never do that/ he argued.
/He abandoned you/ the voice countered.
/No. I told him I couldn't tell him./ Desperation was seeping into his tone.
/Then why did he leave/ it said, triumphantly.
Stopping abruptly halfway down the twisting steps, Obi-Wan tried to put his thready focus back on the Force where it belonged. Inexorable hopelessness was craftily rationalizing its way behind his battered defenses. And the heartbreaking truths - or half-truths - that it used as its malevolent weapons struck deep in his anguished heart. That vile, insatiable darkness that swept threateningly around him, through him, stroking his wounded soul - cruelly lacerating it like broken glass - promised no quarter to the victim of its wicked conquest. Now, all hope seemed shadowed, covered by the twilight shades of doom and recompense - while all thoughts of impunity lay slaughtered at the feet of Fate.
Why did Qui-Gon leave him? He sensed his master's presence far off. But why was he? What was he doing? Why did he carelessly leave Obi-Wan there without telling him or leaving a message for him? Through their training bond he could ask Qui-Gon the insecure questions that perilously swarmed his mind. But, the padawan was still too shyly withdrawn to even seriously think of attempting such a brave thing.
Despairingly lost in his confusing thoughts, he - somehow, for some unknown reason (that he would probably never know) - recalled a seemingly bygone conversation he had with Master Qui-Gon while returning from a fairly routine mission nearly two years ago when the venerable Jedi master received a serious abdominal wound. Bleeding profusely and barely conscious, Qui-Gon had told the extremely worried padawan that he would never leave him...
They had expectantly waited hours for a rescue ship in the heavy-heated Dasahri desert on Prinishar V. The master and apprentice knew it would take a long time for the shuttle to arrive, and both knew the life-threatening danger of Qui-Gon's wound that he received when they had been forced to land because of a malfunctioning central computer. Obi-Wan could not help but be worried that his master would not make it alive. But, seeing Obi-Wan's raging worry over his condition, Qui-Gon had tried to keep the padawan from losing all hope.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon had said. "We will both survive." The blood-soaked tunic of the Jedi master stained continuously with fresh fluid. "You will, and I will," he firmly added, coughing weakly. "And no matter what happens, I will always be there for you. I will never leave you, Obi-Wan. Never."
But, of course his master would leave him, he reasoned in painful bitterness. Qui-Gon's promise could only be a lie. He would die sometime. This inevitable truth that Qui-Gon would die only strengthened Obi-Wan's savage insecurities. So, if that was a lie - albeit seemingly insignificant - what other lies had his master inexcusably told him - or so the dark whispers mercilessly asked.
Closing his eyes to ward off the rising swells of stinging betrayal, the padawan dragged his thoughts back to his present surroundings. His master would tell him to concentrate on the here and now... not on the there and gone. And, Master Qui-Gon would not lie to him, he consoled himself.
What was happening to him, Obi-Wan wondered? Why were his thoughts so hopeless? so negative? Pausing to touch the gentle, warm caresses of the Force - so close, yet so frighteningly vague - he focused his mind on that tiny glimmer of hope that it graciously held out to him, beckoning for his acceptance of it - complete and unconditional, without fear of revocation. The raging spiritual battle inside of him seethed as dark and light fought for possession of his soul.
Finally reaching to the bottom of the long, twisted stairway, he found himself in a narrow hallway with one, single ceiling lamp that sent a broken spray of light bleeding across the rugged stone walls and uneven floor. As he walked to the end of the hall where a lone door stood closed, the sound of the cold stone beneath his boots echoed softly in the narrow corridor. He paused for a still moment, considering his options. He could continue toward the door - see what lay beyond it - or he could turn around and return back the way he had come. There did not appear to be anything else down here - only the corridor with the door at the far end.
Sensing a gentle tugging from the Force, the padawan tried to determine if it were telling him to leave this mysteriously concealed place or not. He strangely felt that something lay on the other side of that door - something... he should see. And, curiosity is a hard thing to defeat - especially for the young. So, he ventured onward to the wooden door.
Sending a scintilla of Force energy in the door's heavy, rusted metal lock, Obi-Wan received a short click in response. He slowly pushed the door inward, bracing himself for any possible attack. The long, screeching creak of the swinging door filled the whole corridor with a haunting echo until it came to a stop about halfway opened.
Fortunately, another ceiling lamp hung inside the cool chamber, bizarrely painting the chamber in a soft rushlight - pale and feeble in luminosity. He crept cautiously in the room, his hand hovering expectantly above his lightsabre.
As a sudden movement to his right caught his attention, without a thought, the padawan drew his weapon, bringing the bright blue flash and steady humming to life. He was in a defensive stance in less than a second, waiting for his thoughts to catch up with his actions.
As his eyes gradually adjusted to the dull light of the room, Obi-Wan's gaze froze on a man rising to his feet in the corner of the chamber. The padawan's slow dawning recognition - brought on by intense denial - kept him from reacting any further as the man stood, looking worriedly at him. The man opened his mouth, stammering over unspoken words.
Unconsciously backing away, Obi-Wan tightened his grip on his lightsabre handle. No. It could not be, he tried to convince himself. As the padawan pressed against the wall that he had unknowingly backed up to, the man took a hesitant step forward, pausing in bewilderment.
With his hands trembling violently, Obi-Wan still held his lightsabre guardedly in front of him, prepared to ward off any threat. As the man stepped closer again, the padawan lifted the weapon higher in a fearfully defensive - almost threatening - gesture.
"Are you here to rescue me or put me out of my misery?" the man asked with a crooked smile - partly serious, partly amused.
Obi-Wan shook his head once, in confusion. Cowering, he sank against the wall behind him.
"Well, you look like a Jedi apprentice, so I guess you're not going to harm me." The man confidently stepped closer, extending his hand, "I'm Dajer Quaykin. It's a pleasure to meet you, my rescuer."
"No, you can't be," Obi-Wan breathlessly whispered.
Seeing the young Jedi wasn't moving from his defensive/threatening posture - and confused by the padawan's strange response - Quaykin dropped his vain attempt to shake the padawan's hand and - with a friendly nod - strolled wordlessly out of the dank chamber.
With the man gone, Obi-Wan slid down the wall, dropping his lightsabre. It fell, dully clanking on the damp stone floor - its monotone hum dying as it safely extinguished itself. He was in a state of shocked horror - to say the least. Unable to gather the presence of mind to rise to his feet and leave, the padawan sat there drawing up his knees towards him - his mind frozen in timid shock and desolate disquietude - staring at, yet not seeing, the far wall.
Upon returning to the house, Qui-Gon and Serenity slipped in the back door, hoping that Valan had not seen them bring the beaten speeder back from the rolling hills. Seeing no one in sight, they went to the dining room.
Serenity paused, her eyes blankly staring in the distance out the window. "My son is a terrible person," the woman whispered, looking back at Qui-Gon, her eyes bleary. "I hate to think that I helped raise him."
Giving her a well-intentioned, sympathetic look, Qui-Gon's thoughts drifted back to his padawan. He knew he should start trying to find Dajer, but he needed to check on Obi-Wan first.
Obi-Wan was so upset. Why did he leave the padawan alone when he definitely needed someone with him? The Jedi master recalled how he himself was so confused and shocked by Obi-Wan's confession of killing Dajer, that he had not been lucid in his thoughts. Leaving his apprentice here in that condition was not a good idea. True, Pila and Valan had been here. But, neither one could reach - or comfort - Obi-Wan like he could. Nor did they know what the padawan thought he had done. He was Obi-Wan's master. It was his responsibility to care for him when he needed it.
Qui-Gon was about to excuse himself to find Obi-Wan when someone walked into the room.
"Hello, Serenity," the man said, smiling broadly.
"Dajer," she exclaimed, running to him. As they embraced, a voice interrupted.
"Starting the reunion without me?" said Valan sarcastically from the doorway.
"You must have thought I was stupid to not realize that imposter wasn't Dajer," Serenity accused. "I must admit that he did a good job... but not good enough," she added with a hint of sadness. "It was horrifying to realize that it wasn't him," her voice grew softer.
"How did you find him, Mother?" Valan demanded, obviously upset by the turn of events.
"She didn't," Dajer interjected. "A young Jedi did." Glancing briefly at Qui-Gon, he turned back to his son. "I was afraid you were going to use me for one of your... medical experiments that you're so fond of," he said, wryly.
"I would never do that, Father," said Valan.
"Then what were you going to do with me? Leave me in that blasted cellar for the rest of my life?" Dajer chuckled quietly.
"I... I don't know," Valan answered, looking away.
"You never did think very far in advance, did you, Valan?" Dajer said sympathetically.
"I did when I designed this house," Valan argued. "I made sure to keep that cellar I kept you in a secret."
"Where's my wonderful replacement - that awful Nim Tarren?" Dajer asked his son.
"Tarren's dead. He fell several levels on Coruscant and died," Serenity informed Dajer.
"Is that so? I guess there is justice in the galaxy. Nim Tarren was a terrible man," Dajer said. "I can't believe you would ever have any dealings with that monster."
"I should have never trusted a maniac like him," Valan bitterly said. "And to think that I went to so much trouble with the surgery to make him look and sound like you, Father."
Gesturing toward Qui-Gon, Dajer said, "lock him in the closet at the end of the hall."
Valan willingly left with the Jedi master.
After a few moments of mindlessness, Obi-Wan regained some sense of where he was. Yet, he still remained caught up in a dawning tempest of perplexity. How could Quaykin be here when the padawan had seen him fall to his death, when he had witnessed the man's body burnt up at the funeral?
A familiar presence fell lightly across his consciousness - serene and caring in its prodigious magnitude. He looked up to see Qui-Gon standing at the door. Quickly, Obi-Wan looked away - fearful of his master seeing the unspeakable depths of pain in his eyes.
Qui-Gon entered the chamber, crouching beside him. "Obi-Wan? Are you alright?" he asked.
Without looking at the Jedi master, Obi-Wan nodded shyly, making a move to retrieve his fallen lightsabre. A strong hand on his arm stopped him, but he refused to look up.
"Obi-Wan," started a worried voice. "Dajer is alive - as I guess you know by now. I only found out from Serenity a short time ago."
Listening, the padawan tried to sort through what he was hearing.
Qui-Gon saw the confusion spreading across Obi-Wan's face. "Valan imprisoned his father and had another man undergo surgery to look and sound like him. The man you encountered on Coruscant was the imposter. He was Nim Tarren," he said, pausing to see Obi-Wan's reaction.
The young Jedi knew he had heard the name before, but was not sure who he was.
"He was a fugitive, Obi-Wan. A very dangerous man," Qui-Gon supplied, observing the padawan's behavior.
After Serenity's divulgence that Dajer was alive and Tarren posed as him, the Jedi master began wondering what Tarren might have done to make Obi-Wan Force-push him. There was a list of things that an unstable man like that might have tried, so Qui-Gon could not be sure. But, he feared that by the padawan's recent withdrawn behavior, it could very well be a sexual assault - Tarren was known to have sexually assaulted males and females. Why else would Obi-Wan be embarrassed to tell him? If it had simply been that Tarren had attacked him in a non-sexual way, then it would be no different than on missions Qui-Gon had been on with his padawan. They had both been attacked many times. So, with what other reason would Obi-Wan not tell him?
Then, Obi-Wan softly spoke. "Why did you leave me, Master?" He raised his eyes up to look into Qui-Gon's, waiting for an answer.
Struck by the timid, child-like way in which his padawan questioned him - and staggered by the swelling pain in those aquamarine eyes - Qui-Gon could find no words to explain the thoughtless action.
Looking away, the Jedi master tried to gather an appropriate response.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," he said at last. "I was shocked to hear you say that you Force-pushed Dajer, and I was not thinking clearly," he explained.
"You... didn't blame me for Mr. Quaykin's death?" Obi-Wan hesitantly asked, searching the Jedi master's face.
"Blame you? No. Though I was concerned," Qui-Gon answered truthfully.
Satisfied with his master's apology, Obi-Wan realized that his insecurities of Qui-Gon's supposed lying to him were exaggerated. His master would not do that, he told himself. And, of course Qui-Gon would be concerned about what happened concerning Quaykin's death - Obi-Wan wouldn't tell him why he Force-pushed the man. So, it was understandable. He knew Qui-Gon would not condemn him, as he had feared. Feeling some of the stifling heaviness leave him at that thought, Obi-Wan sensed a warm glow embrace him - a gentle kiss from the Force.
"Would you like to talk about what happened between you and Tarren?" Qui-Gon asked gently, trying to make his padawan feel comfortable enough to tell him.
With a small shake of Obi-Wan's head as the only response, the young man stared at the floor in front of him.
A long, aching silence followed.
"Qui-Gon?" Serenity said from the doorway. "Is Obi-Wan alright?" she asked.
"Yes," said the Jedi master.
Seeing that the woman was not going to leave until they did, Qui-Gon handed Obi-Wan his lightsabre. Then he stood up, and the two Jedi followed her out.
Letting himself into his padawan's quarters, Qui-Gon could hear the blasting water from the shower. He stopped outside the door, knocking. "Obi-Wan?" he shouted to be heard over the gushing water.
"Yes, Master?" the padawan answered after a slight pause.
"Are you almost ready?" asked the Jedi master.
"Yes, Master."
Hearing the water stop, Qui-Gon glanced around the bedroom. Obi-Wan's laundry lay scattered over the floor. Being the organized master that he was, Qui-Gon gathered up a few items, intending to put them away. He opened a drawer and pushed things aside to make more room. Spying a crumpled-up tunic that definitely did not belong in this particular drawer, he pulled it out to put it in its proper place. But as he did so, the tunic unfolded, revealing a huge rip - a rip that Obi-Wan had never mentioned to him. Evidently, his padawan was concealing it for some reason.
Since the trip back to the Temple, Qui-Gon had continued to muse over just what Nim Tarren - the man posing as Dajer Quaykin - had done to his padawan. What terrible act had this criminal committed against Obi-Wan to break the young Jedi so? The more he thought, the more he was sure it was some type of sexual assault. Although Qui-Gon did not want to believe it was, he had increasingly considered that to be probable. Now - with the hidden, torn tunic - it was sobering, having some physical evidence that he might be right.
Tarren evidently thought that he could assault Obi-Wan, then kill him and tell the Jedi that someone else did it. That was the best explanation that Qui-Gon could come up with.
So far, the padawan had not been forthcoming, and showed no signs of cooperation either. Every attempt to encourage Obi-Wan to talk with Qui-Gon, a healer, or anyone else was only met with the padawan's stubborn refusal. Yet still, the young man had not shed the dark, dreadful shroud of brokenness - the look of defeat painfully clung to him. And, the padawan had also become increasingly withdrawn since then, and rarely spoke now - and then only when it became necessary. Qui-Gon seriously doubted that he would recover without help.
But, Obi-Wan had kept a mental distance from Qui-Gon ever since the padawan's disclosure of killing Tarren. And, what made matters worse, their failure to connect had caused Qui-Gon to cancel almost every practice session together since their return to Coruscant. There was simply no point in training with things this way.
Hurriedly, Qui-Gon stuffed the tunic back in the drawer and dropped the other clothes to the floor, as he heard Obi-Wan shuffling around in the 'fresher. Just as he sat on the edge of the bed, Obi-Wan appeared - his hair still damp.
Hesitantly glancing at Qui-Gon, the padawan shrugged into his robe.
"Obi-Wan? Sit down," the Jedi master gently ordered, patting the bed. He knew this would be difficult - for both of them. But, it was something that had to be dealt with soon.
Quietly, Obi-Wan sat, keeping a comfortable distance between them.
Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon attempted to gather enough courage to confront Obi-Wan with what the padawan had been trying to avoid. Speaking in the most gentle, compassionate voice he could muster, he said, "Obi-Wan? I think we need to talk about what happened with Tarren." He paused, swallowing. "Did Tarren... rape you?" He forced himself to say the words - not believing what he was saying.
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly as he stared at the floor.
"Did he try to?" the Jedi master asked.
After a moment of silence, Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan to see the young man's head bowed, his fingers nervously playing with the frayed hem of his robe.
"Obi-Wan, we can't ignore this forever," the Jedi master gently added.
Obi-Wan stood up abruptly and walked into the 'fresher, locking the door behind him.