Disclaimer: At beginning (or somewhere back there)
To my reviewers: Thank you so much! I'm sorry that I don't respond personally, but I find that doing that means less time writing, and as I only have a few minutes every few weeks as it is… I hope you understand. If not, I can only offer my apologies and thanks.
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I don't know how long I walked, or even really where I walked to.
I just needed to get away, though what I was trying to "get away from" wasn't
something I was sure of. It was just… nice… to have the freedom to decide which
direction to go, and how fast I wanted to walk, and if I wanted to stop, or
switch directions. There was no one telling me what to do or who to be… well,
no one but that stupid voice in my head that is.
*********************************************
Dawn usually brought with it the hope for a new day, but for the figure
meditating in the austere common room, hope was elusive at best. Although his
face was a mask of serenity, the turmoil of his thoughts was present in Master
Jinn's stiff posture. Normally meditation was a physical release as much as it
was a mental one, even though no physical movement occurred. It was a release
of tension and stress, that manifested itself through relaxed muscles and an
easy posture. Qui-Gon's tense bearing and the coiled muscles visible under his
sleep clothes spoke of the unease of his mind.
\There must be something I can do. I am not going to simply accept that I have
to hand Obi-Wan over to the soulhealers and ruin his future. I know that I will
always love him and would be grateful to have him as my Padawan indefinitely,
but that is not the path he chose, nor is it a path that he would ever want to
follow freely\
Finally admitting the futility of his meditations, the fatigued Master released
his hold on the slight trance and rose back to the level of consciousness.
Opening his eyes and allowing his mind the time to process the return to
reality, Qui-Gon practiced a deep breathing technique that he had never before
had to use after meditation. Normally it was a device to be used in lieu of the
meditative rituals. Once his thoughts had reached a relative calmness, he rose
gracelessly to his feet and began his morning routine. Passing through the open
common area on his way toward the kitchen, he spared a glance for the closed door
leading into his apprentice's room. Not allowing his thoughts to drift too far
into the trials he would have to subject his apprentice to, he released another
deep breath and consciously worked to reduce the tension that ached throughout
his body.
*********************************************
Coruscant is often called the Jewel of the Republic because of its brilliant
glimmering appearance. It hung suspended in the black void of space as a beacon
of light in the darkness, standing as the visible representation of all the
ideals that made up the Galactic Republic. Though the term "jewel" fit loosely
to describe its splendor as viewed from a starship, it was only when one
ventured beyond the bright lights and happy sounds of the upper levels, and
descended into the purgatory that existed below, that the term "jewel" became
oddly appropriate. For like most jewels, Coruscant had many flaws hidden deep
within its glittering exterior.
Though the upper levels were truly dazzling, the lower levels were twice as
dreary, and as gay and joyous as the crowds that inhabited the buildings above
were, the denizens of the deep were equally miserable and dejected. The
glimmering exterior of the capital planet of the Republic may have helped to
conceal its core of darkness, but even a non-Force sensitive could sense the
slight feeling of wrongness that covered the surface of the artificial planet.
For as valiantly as it was attempted, nothing could ever totally gloss over the
pitiful existence of over one quarter of Coruscant's occupants… and nothing
could hide the shadows that hovered hungrily inside the "glimmering jewel."
*********************************************
If I had been me… or the "me" that existed before I became who I am now, I
probably would have felt something for the pitiful denizens of the lower levels
I had wandered onto. Their gaunt faces and soulless eyes would have had the old
me wanting to do anything I could to help, but today I just walked right past
them. Maybe it was because I didn't see them… but I think it was more because
of the fact that I did see them, and in their 'soulless' eyes, I saw
myself.
*********************************************
As he walked through the dark alleys of the low levels, Obi-Wan Kenobi found
his mind traveling the equally dark pathways of his mind. As dreadful and
dismal as his physical surroundings were, he found his attention totally
focused on the bleakness of his thoughts. \It would be so nice to have a
thought that didn't focus solely on all of my previous failures, or all of the
ones I have yet to look forward to\ he thought offhandedly as he simply allowed
his feet to guide him. His Force-sense was attuned to the danger that
surrounded him, but he found that he could not bring himself to care about the
possibility of his being harmed. \Would it really even matter?\
Continuing what had become a much slower pace than his normal brisk strides,
the young Padawan ventured deeper and deeper into the darkness that corroded
the Capital planet.
*********************************************
After stalling as long as possible, and finally acknowledging that he was
delaying the inevitable, Master Jinn composed his features and made his way to
his apprentice's room. "Obi-Wan?" he called, tapping gently on the closed
doorway. When no response was forthcoming, even after he had increased the
volume of both his call and his knock, Qui-Gon sighed and reached to override
the lockcode. Normally he would not have dared to invade his Padawan's privacy
as such, but he was worried that Obi-Wan had not answered. Though he could
never be described as a morning person, the young apprentice always made a
point of at least offering a groan in response to his Master's wake-up call.
The override took longer than normal, as Qui-Gon found that his hands were
almost shaking too much to correctly enter the code in. Taking another deep
breath in a futile attempt to regain his composure, the Master finally
succeeded in entering his code. Stepping back as the door swished open, he found
his gaze drawn immediately to the empty bed. Confirming what his eyes told him
with a brief Force scan, he uttered a low curse under his breath before turning
and storming toward the comm. unit embedded in the wall of the common room.
Waiting for the signal to go through, Qui-Gon ran a hand over his hair to
smooth down any errant strands, and tugged his sleep tunic to release the
wrinkles that had accumulated overnight. Satisfied that his appearance was as
good as it was going to get under the circumstances, Master Jinn prepared to
make his report to the Jedi Council.