Louder than Words

By Jemmiah

She wanted to scream.

Scream with joy that he was unharmed.

In self-imposed exile, hiding somewhere.

But in order to hide you had to be alive…

The same thought kept repeating over and over in Jemmiah's head as she stood trembling by the holo projection unit in her study where Rela would spend much of the day going over the estate accounts. It was the one room above all others in the vast house which truly felt like a sanctuary: a place in which to retire and sit in peace and solitude.

He's alive. Nothing else matters.

She understood why this room was significant. The ancient volumes that lined the walls seemed to represent stability and continuity through the ages - a sign that indeed, some things never changed. The thought brought her some comfort as she reflected on the turbulent times that had finally stolen Obi-Wan away from her forever.

Must I consign him to the past, too? Is that all his is to be: just a memory, filed away like one of these books.

He was alive. He had cheated the death set aside for the Jedi order. It was impossible to kill Ben Kenobi: hadn't she learned that over the years? So why when she should be crowing in triumph did she want to curl up into a tight, self-protecting ball and cry? Why, when his escape was nothing short of a victory against this cruel, cynical new age did she not rejoice that his was not amongst the bodies on display as traitors to the galactic empire?

Because those bodies so recently adorning the steps of the Jedi temple were your friends…

She hardly dared to play the recording. Flint had not told her what it contained, for she did not know; but had left her with a stern warning not to ask where the former Jedi had gone. It had torn at her Wookiee friend, understanding that she alone possessed the knowledge of his location - the only barrier between Jemmiah and her former mate - but her resolve in her promise to Obi-Wan had never wavered for a moment.

Jemmiah had not asked.

He's alive. He's alive, alive…

Still she hesitated. She'd asked Flint how she had found him to be, and the Wookiee had responded that he had appeared troubled, disbelieving...and visibly older. That was not how Jemmiah thought of Obi-Wan whenever she brought him to mind. It wasn't how she wanted to remember him…

He went to the trouble to record it. Least you can do is show some courage and listen to what he has to say.

Swallowing back the constricting knot that squeezed at her throat she finally allowed herself to activate the message. For a moment her eyes were greeted by a static-interrupted vision of blue and grey lines that hissed and crackled as they sought to order themselves into some recognisable image. Her heart gave a panic-stricken lurch, for even worse than seeing Obi-Wan standing there before her would be not seeing him at all…

And then, with a flicker, the image took shape.

The figure stood, wearing a discoloured tunic that appeared at closer inspection somewhat frayed and tattered. He seemed weary, and slightly hunched over as if the muscles in his shoulders had contracted, pulling him forward. Eyes that had once contained merriment and irrepressible mirth now held bleakness. This…this was not Obi-Wan. He wore his face, yet possessed none of his inner joy.

Yet what was there left in the galaxy to laugh about?

He looks…beaten. Tired. Jemmiah clenched her fingers tightly, determined not to cry. Like there's no fight left within him.

"Jemmiah," Obi-Wan said gravely in a strained, dusty sounding voice, "I need you to listen to me. The bearer of this message has been asked to remind you to destroy this message once you have listened to it. Whilst I doubt you or those closest to you have any reason to fear, I should not like this to fall into the wrong hands."

The holo pictured wavered momentarily as if reflecting the Jedi's uncertainty.

"Time appears to have caught the Jedi out. The galaxy must take care of itself… for the moment at least." He added with a cautious note of optimism. Again, Obi-Wan paused, seeking to order his thoughts. "It seems that unknowingly we said our goodbyes on Corellia. There is not much more I can add, except to ask you to look after everyone for me. And above all," the image looked directly at her, as if staring into unseen eyes, "take care of yourself, my dearest friend. I shall think of you often: I hope you will spare an occasional thought for me."

The flickering image of Obi-Wan became somewhat clearer and Jemmiah found the hardened lump in her throat growing unbearably painful as she watched.

"I…I find myself with so many things to say that," he said in a resigned voice, "I'm struggling to voice them. And so perhaps it is better that they remain unspoken. But you know what they are, and what they mean. They say that actions speak louder than words. Maybe this simple gesture will make up for my general lack of eloquence."

Placing cracked, dry lips against his palm and then, slowly, offering the kiss with an open hand towards the unseen recipient Obi-Wan allowed himself a melancholy smile.

"May the force be with you, Jemmy." He bowed respectfully. Then, straightening up, Obi-Wan stood in perfect stillness before allowing his image to fade from the projection. The last thing that Jemmiah saw were his eyes: so full of sadness and bitterness, hurt and pride: everything that a Jedi should not allow themselves to give into. But above all, mixed in with the turbulent blue, she recognised gratitude and love. Somehow - even when his image had long disappeared from view - that was the memory that Jemmiah desperately tried to hold on to.

She knew that she would never look upon his face again.

It was bereavement without death, but no less painful. She'd always expected that one day Obi-Wan would disappear from her life, just as Qui-Gon had, but the manner of his departure was unbelievably bittersweet. He had survived the terrible purges that even now were scourging the galaxy of the scattered Jedi…he would somehow be okay. Obi-Wan always had been the arch-survivor: he would surely outlive her, just as she had always known deep down in spite of her constant fears for his safety. But at what cost to him?

No Jedi temple. No Jedi order. All gone: swept aside as if they had never existed. They had been such a part of the Jedi psyche that Jemmiah knew the wrench would be horrendous for any of the remaining, hunted knights. And what of Obi-Wan? Either in hiding or on the run ? Jemmiah could remember what it was like to be constantly living in fear of discovery, always looking over her shoulder. It wasn't a life…not even a half-life.

But in many respects Obi-Wan's life was already over.

Her heart ached for him. Not the lover or the Jedi master, or the padawan protector, but the friend she'd first encountered all those years ago. The noble, earnest boy who had brought her hope and courage where both had failed her: had he come all that way…just for this?

To what end? What purpose could the force have to crush him so completely?

She stared at the empty space where Obi-Wan's image had been not seconds before, torn between playing the holo recording back so she could look into those eyes once again and the hurt it would undoubtedly bring should she do so. Outside she could hear Rela's children screaming and laughing as they played in the garden, just as she and Todd had once done. Next door little Nadine whimpered in her cot. And from below she could hear the springy tread of Rela's feet against the wooden spiral staircase, followed by the telltale creak the second but top board always gave whenever stepped upon.

"Jemmy?" A puzzled voice called. "Are you up here?"

Jemmiah snatched the chip from the projection unit and held it firmly between finger and thumb. Destroy it: that's what Flint had commanded her to do. Obi-Wan had been adamant that it should not be seen by anyone else. Whilst she was happy enough to honour the final part of that wish Jemmiah wavered, knowing she should cast the chip down onto the floor and crush it with her shoe.

But she couldn't do it.

"I think Nadine's crying again. Shall I go see what's wrong?" Rela asked.

Jemmiah opened the old fashioned, ugly locket that hung round her neck and hurriedly placed the chip in the false back where she knew nobody would ever find it. Somehow it seemed appropriate to hide Obi-Wan's last secret communiqué within this, his gift to her from so many years ago. So much had happened since then…so much she wished she could change.

You cannot change the past or determine the future. She could almost hear Qui-Gon's words in her mind, so real and vivid it was as if he were stood behind her. Only the present matters.

Jemmiah snapped the lid back into place.

"No, thanks Rela." She adjusted the chain around her neck, feeling its weight settle reassuringly on her breastbone. "I'll look after Nadine."

She paused at the open doorway before adding with a whisper. "I'll look after everyone. Just like you asked me to, Ben. I promise you."