A/N: I'm sorry that this took so very, very long to get to you all! Writers block to the MAX has been plaguing me. But it's done now, with chapter 7 well on its way! Thank you to everyone who reviewed me; I will do my individual replys and thank-yous starting again in the next chapter. At the moment, all I want to do is get this posted!
But of course, there is one person who I must mention every time! TEMPLE MISTRESS! Fresh from your first (brilliant) comedic fic -- everybody go read it NOW! -- and I give you a load of angst to beta. Thank you thank you thank you! This chapter is SO much the better for all your hard work! I really really really appreciate it. Loves!
Chapter 6: Broken Inside
"Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real."
Hannibal Lecter, Red Dragon, by Thomas Harris
------
There were voices in the darkness, muted, muffled, unintelligible.
"…midichlorians assimilating the thanatizine more swiftly than…."
"…no choice but to double the dosage…."
Clearer, growing closer….
"Sir, any higher a dose could cause lasting damage."
"Regrettable, I'm sure, but Master Kenobi won't be alive much longer."
Blue eyes fluttered open, the world swimming in and out of focus.
Another sharp prick to the side of his neck, and everything spiralled into darkness once more.
----
Anakin's fingers flew over the console, turning the ship around, making the calculations for the jump to light speed. He allowed no extraneous thoughts in his mind – there was a goal to focus on. Take control of the ship. Get the coordinates for Veenat-III. Calculate the hyperspace jump. Rescue Obi-Wan.
Kill anyone who had dared to hurt his Master.
It was easy, when he thought about it like that. Step by step. Focused and unemotional, just how his Master had taught him to plan. Soon. He would be back to Obi-Wan soon.
"Artoo, do you have those coordinates for me?" he called back over his shoulder to where the astromech had plugged in to the main computer, keeping his voice level with difficulty. He wanted to scream, yell at the droid to hurry, Force-damn it.
The droid bleeped and tootled urgently in reply.
"Just look in the memory banks, the coordinates were sent by the Council with our mission objectives," Anakin said dismissively, flexing the fingers of his real hand.
Another beep.
Anakin swung around, eyes narrowed, to face the droid. "What do you mean, deleted? It's in our last mission outline!"
The droid backed up slightly as though nervous, top whirling in a full circle in distress.
"Gone?" Anakin was incredulous, "But how could the whole thing be –" he trailed off, verifying R2's sweep of the data banks on his own console. The file was missing; all their past missions had been erased. No. It wasn't possible. No one had been on the ship since he and Obi-Wan had left….
Unless….
Anakin stiffened, jaw clenching tightly. "The droid ship," he hissed venomously, spinning on his heel and stalking over to where Asajj Ventress lay coiled on the floor. The Dark Jedi woman was still alive, though barely; Anakin could feel the elusive flicker of the Life Force within her. He had been content to ignore her for the past few minutes; after disarming her as a threat, she became of secondary importance to getting back to Obi-Wan. Now the fact that she was still alive galled him, her Life Force a flame that he wanted to grind out.
Sensing Anakin's proximity, Ventress opened her eyes into slits, gasping out a harsh chuckle. "Lost s-something, have you…?" she whispered, teeth clenched in pain.
Breathing hard, Anakin stared in absolute loathing down at her, finding his lightsabre in his hand and ignited without any conscious thought. Ventress didn't flinch as she gazed at the azure blade.
"You know what the coordinates of Veenat-III are," Anakin whispered, making the question into a statement. "Tell me how to get back there."
Ventress made no reply, her lips curling into a weak smile as her eyes drifted closed.
"TELL ME!" Anakin screamed, feeling his rage boiling over the boundaries of his tenuously-held restraint. He wanted to hurt her, wanted to tear this so-called Dark Jedi woman limb from limb, to make her scream and beg for mercy, until she told him exactly what he wanted.
Instead she was making him sound like an emotional child.
Anakin took a slow, deep breath, kneeling down on the cold floor beside Ventress' prone body, setting the lightsabre to one side to grip her by the throat with his cybernetic hand. "Tell me." He shook her roughly to emphasize his words.
She smiled – smiled! – and shook her head slightly, her eyes thin, malicious slits. "Now you know what it's like, Jedi," she whispered.
Anakin could tell that there would be no getting the information out of her. She would die without ever letting her secret escape her lips – one last spiteful retaliation against the Jedi Order that she so despised. He was tempted to just toss her back down onto the floor, to let her writhe in agony for a few more painful minutes of life. He was tempted to drag her to the medical bay, heal her wounds, and then make her scream her life out once more. He wanted her to die, without the blessed release that death would bring.
Pulling her closer, Anakin pressed his other hand over her eyes, fingers spanning her temples. The physical contact made him feel ill, as though the evil in which she had submersed herself was somehow contagious. Taking a deep breath, he shoved into her mind, breaking through the weakening barriers that she threw up against his invasion of her thoughts. He would find his answers, whether she wanted to give them to him or not. Distantly, he was aware of her writhing in agony, trying to twist away from the vice-like grip he had on her.
It almost made him smile.
Insidious darkness penetrated every corner of her mind, saturating his soul. It made him dizzy, nauseous, but he forced himself to dig further into her consciousness, deeper into the pit of her mind. Everywhere he turned there was only more hatred and lust for revenge against the Jedi.
Against Obi-Wan.
Ventress' anger was pulsing red around him, shot through with the black power of the Dark Side. But she was weakening; Anakin could feel her strength ebbing the more he exerted his will over hers.
There. A final barrier. Anakin slammed his mind against it, trying to find a crack, a chink in her armour that would let him through.
He reached out, and for a moment, there was a flash of memory – a younger Ventress, standing next to a tall man whose face was obscured in shadow. There was a sense of…of security there…something akin to happiness….
He froze for a moment, shocked to see a glowing blade in the man's hand. A lightsabre…he was a Jedi?
(What in the Force?)
But Ventress rallied against him, shoving him back away from that brief glimpse. Her fury seared at Anakin's mind, and he fought back, smothering her resistance, overpowering her easily.
(You have no right!) she screamed.
No, this wasn't right. But Anakin didn't care. He was only thinking about Obi-Wan. Ventress was an enemy, and therefore of far less importance. Anakin stretched out his mind once more, ready to break through that last wall.
Too late. In that moment of stunned revelation at finding such a memory in the mind of filth like Ventress, she had wrapped the barrier in her Life Force. He couldn't destroy one without taking the other as well.
Failure.
(You're right; you have failed your precious Master. He will suffer and die, begging for his life, screaming out his last breath. I know… I've heard him plead before.)
Tears blinded Anakin's vision as Ventress' mocking taunts summoned an image of Obi-Wan in that stinking cell on Rattatak before his eyes. The sound of his Master's nightmares echoed in his ears in tune with her contemptuous laughter.
With a strangled snarl, he clenched his right fist, hearing the crunch of Ventress' trachea, imagining for a moment that he could feel the sensation of her spine snapping beneath his metal fingers. Asajj went limp, her eyes glazed and dull, the flame that was her Life Force snuffed out in an instant.
With a cry, Anakin jumped back, letting her fall back to the floor. He stared in dull horror at his hand, encased in its leather glove. It was not the way of the Jedi to kill a defenceless being, even if they were an enemy. Obi-Wan wouldn't have done it; he would have been merciful….
Stumbling backwards, he sank down into the co-pilot's chair… the chair that Obi-Wan had sat in for their journey here.
Obi-Wan.
Anakin buried his face in his hands, trying to breathe deeply, trying to meditate, to release all his pent-up emotions into the Force the way he had been taught to do. He needed to centre himself; that was all. He just needed to centre himself….
But somewhere, in some hidden corner of Anakin's mind, unacknowledged in the light of day, there was a deep, burning satisfaction at Ventress' end. She had hurt someone close to Anakin. She had paid with her life. That was the way things should be.
Taking a deep breath, Anakin blocked out those violent thoughts, trying to push back the blackness that had surfaced in his mind…but he could still hear Ventress' laughter, could still feel the ease with which he had snapped her throat. The purring, rumbling satiation deep in his soul that was still rejoicing at her demise.
There was no way to find his centre; not here, not now. Obi-Wan was his centre, his focal point. Obi-Wan was the one that gave him balance.
There were tears pricking at his eyes, tears that he cuffed away roughly with the back of his hand. There wasn't any time for indulging in self-pity; not now. He had a job to do.
"Can you calculate our current location, R2?" He asked, forcing his voice to calmness. He would contact the Jedi Temple, get the coordinates once again, and get back to Obi-Wan. A few more hours, that was all it would take.
Just a few more hours.
(I'm coming, Master. Just hold on. Please hold on…)
----
Dooku observed the prone figure of the captive Jedi Knight coldly. The thanatizine seemed to be working properly this time around; foolish of him to not take into account the power of the Force in this Knight. Of course, it would cause permanent damage – a dosage that high would kill the average sentient. So long as Kenobi stayed alive long enough for Skywalker to arrive, it wouldn't pose a problem.
Thanatizine. What a brilliant discovery that had been. The compound was found in all field medkits, as it was used to put terminally ill patients into stasis until better medical facilities could be found. All nervous system processes were shut down by the drug, heart rate dropped to less than a beat a minute, and all sensory perceptions were blocked. It was as though the body was frozen in time, while the mind segued into a dream-like state.
Of course, it wouldn't do at all to have Kenobi completely unconscious, lost in pleasant dreams. Dooku snapped his fingers irritably. Instantly, one of the Veenatian scientists whose facility had been commandeered scurried forwards, placing a thin strip of metal over the unconscious Jedi's temples. The computers embedded in the device simultaneously blocked Kenobi's Force-signature, while stimulating the brain with electrical impulses to prevent it from slipping into a sleep pattern.
Master Kenobi would be fully awake, but unable to see, hear, smell, speak, or move. Trapped alive in a body that was, to all intents and purposes, a corpse; blind to even the Force.
Dooku smiled thinly, wondering how long it would take before the Jedi's mind snapped, deprived as it was of all sensory input. He would take great delight in speeding the process along.
A sudden absence in the Force made him snarl slightly, turning away from Kenobi to stride down the narrow corridor. Veenatians scurried out of his way, trying to make themselves unobtrusive. They were precipitant creatures; very much aware of Dooku's murderous mood. It was almost a pity – he would have loved an excuse to exercise his power over the inferior beings, if only to have some outlet for his frustration.
Ventress. His protégée was dead; he had felt the dissipation of her Life-Signature into the Force. What in the Sith had the stupid woman been up to? There was no doubt in his mind that her death had been caused by her own arrogance, that ridiculous vendetta she had always held against Kenobi. Ventress always had been too emotional. Dooku just hoped she hadn't placed the whole operation in jeopardy; Darth Sidious did not take failure well.
Stepping outside the low, squat building, Dooku tilted his head back to stare contemplatively at the darkening sky. One by one, constellations appeared, peppering heavens with their ethereal light.
(Come, Master Skywalker,) he thought, allowing the words to resonate into the Force, letting them whisper against the young Jedi Knight's mind. (I know you felt your Master's pain. Do you think yourself able to save him?)
(Do you dare to try?)
His eyes narrowed slightly when there was no reply, his only concession to emotion, before he whirled and stalked back into the building.
It would be a shame to kill Master Kenobi without reason. Regrettably, the Jedi Knight – hardly more than a boy himself – was a means to an end. And that end was Skywalker. If there was another way…Dooku pushed the thought aside angrily. He was not attached to this Jedi, even if he had been the Padawan of Qui-Gon Jinn. That tenuous connection between them meant nothing. Whatever bound him to this boy meant only that he knew Kenobi's worst fears and greatest failings. Qui-Gon had enthused about his Padawan often enough that Dooku knew him almost as well as Jinn himself had.
He knew what memories to exploit.
Lessons in his own life had taught Dooku that trusting people lead only to betrayal. It was something that he had failed to impress on Qui-Gon. Now Kenobi would suffer as a result of Master Jinn's trust in an old mentor. That was the way of the universe.
Turning his dispassionate gaze on the discreetly hovering scientists, Count Dooku nodded fractionally. "Begin."
-----
Darkness. He tried to open his eyes, tried to blink, to move. Nothing. No response. He was trapped somewhere, somehow.
Dooku!
Yes, they had fought… and Anakin. Oh Force, Anakin. His apprentice was… no. Anakin couldn't possibly be….
He stretched out along the Force bond that bound them, seeking the comforting presence of his friend's light.
Nothing. Only darkness.
Anakin was gone.
He wanted to scream, but his body refused to answer him. He wanted to cry, but could feel no tears. Even as panic flooded his mind, freezing it in icy terror, he dimly realized that his heartbeat hadn't accelerated in response….
(Master?)
Anakin's voice. He tried to reach out, to answer his friend. He tried to speak, but there was no sound.
(Master! Master please! I need you! Master!)
Anakin! ANAKIN! he screamed in soundless response. Anakin, I'm here!
There was a horrendous scream of agony, beating against his skull from the inside out, tearing at his muffled senses.
Anakin! Anakin?
Before his blind eyes, he could see the scene over and over again. Anakin behind Dooku, ready to strike. The Count turning, striking.
Anakin crumpled on the sand, clear blue eyes oddly blank, reflecting sightlessly the lavender sky above.
ANAKIN!
Again.
Anakin was in front of his eyes, so close, if he could just call out in time, then he would be able to save him. This time he could protect Anakin somehow.
Dooku spun, red blade flashing.
Anakin cried out in shock, falling to the ground. Dead eyes watching Obi-Wan. Accusing.
NO! ANAKIN!
Again.
-----
Dooku nodded shortly in satisfaction. Force-suggestion still worked on Kenobi, even if the Jedi himself could not reach out into the Force. If he closed his eyes, submerging himself in the crackling waves of the Dark Side, he could hear the Jedi Knight as though from a great distance.
He was screaming.
Dooku allowed himself one of his rare smiles. Lord Sidious would be very pleased to hear this. Even if Kenobi died before his apprentice made it back, there was still hope of turning Skywalker. Projected images of his Master's demise could prove to be just as effective.
But, just to be certain, he would allow Kenobi to continue living… if only for a little while longer. There was no point in killing him outright when he could still potentially prove useful. Dooku wouldn't take any chances.
----
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… please. Please stop. No more, please.
He was back on Melida/Daan. Telling Qui-Gon that he was leaving the Jedi Order permanently. Lashing out in anger at the man that he loved and respected above all others like a petulant child.
He could see that hurt, that impossible betrayal in his beloved Master's eyes. Why had he hurt Qui-Gon so much? Had he honestly thought that he could do anything to save the younglings on the planet? How many lives had his arrogance destroyed?
I'm sorry…
"Sorry does not make the offence disappear." Mace lectured. "A Master depends on the loyalty of his Padawan. If that trust is broken, the bond shatters."
The bond shatters.
How many lives have been destroyed by my arrogance?
Cerasi.
No no no, he didn't want to remember her. No. Not Cerasi.
Please, no.
He had watched her die in his arms. Had tried to save her planet only to add to its division. A division that had culminated in her death… all his fault.
He was there again. Holding that fragile body in his arms as the life in her eyes had dimmed slowly. Her body growing cold and stiff in his trembling arms.
Her voice whispered in his deaf ears.
(Obi-Wan…)
Cerasi….
(You watched me die, Obi-Wan. How could you do that? You were a Jedi. You were supposed to save us.)
I'm…I'm sorry. I tried. I tried, Cerasi, oh Force, please believe me….
(Sorry does not make the offence disappear.)
She was slipping away from him. He reached out to catch her hand, to pull her back. To beg for absolution of some sort. But he stumbled and fell, unable to bridge the gap that separated them.
Cerasi!
Qui-Gon shook his head in disappointment, angry and hurt by his Padawan as Obi-Wan made his decision to leave the Jedi. The betrayal in those dark blue eyes cut deeply into Obi-Wan's soul, affirming the realization that he had lost something infinitely precious. He had lost Qui-Gon's esteem, had lost the comfortable closeness of their Master/Padawan bond. With one simple decision, all their trials together were reduced to naught.
Obi-Wan had failed his Master, time and time again. Melida/Daan had only been the first instance… there were many, many more. Obi-Wan had jeopardized their mission on Melida/Daan for his personal feelings. He had left the Jedi Order without a thought. He was the reason that they had been delayed in rescuing Master Tahl…making him the cause of her death. The death of the woman that his Master loved.
It was no wonder that to Qui-Gon's eyes he was worth less than nothing. Where once amused affection had shone in his Master's countenance, now there was only bitterness and regret.
Regret for ever having taken Obi-Wan on as a Padawan.
No wonder he had wanted to train Anakin instead; his first Padawan had been nothing but a disappointment. A failure who was too long in the rank of apprentice, unable to push past the trials to become a Knight.
An embarrassment.
The images shifted again, moving from one memory to the next, meticulous and inexorable.
Bruck. His mind whispered to him. Remember Bruck? Remember how you killed him?
No. No. He tried to block out the images, to discipline his thoughts.
For a second it worked. For a moment, the voices disappeared, leaving him trapped alone in the darkness, without sight, sound, or touch. Trapped inside his own mind, one way or another, in blindness and silence, or wrapped in the pain of old memories.
Perhaps it was a fitting retribution.
Slipping back down into delirium, following the taunting, teasing voices, Obi-Wan let go of that last tenuous hold on what was real. Severed the last tie that bound him to life, let go of any vestiges of resistance, and let his consciousness tumble downwards, falling away from sanity until it hit rock bottom.
And shattered.
The pain that screamed through him seemed muted, far away…as though it was happening to someone else. Someone he had been close to, once upon a time. The fragments of his consciousness kept the name from him.
There was only the voice in his mind.
His own voice.
Remember Bruck?
Yes. Yes he remembered. How could he forget the rival Padawan that he had killed?
He was back in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, losing his composure, attacking in anger. Watching Bruck fall, sprawling onto the grass, his neck broken.
"No. I did it for Bant. She would have died…"
The voice was weak, so weak. Barely a whisper to his deaf ears. It confused Obi-Wan, trying to pull him out of the memory, back into darkness, back into living death. He struggled against that impulse, shoving that rational voice away from him, crying out as the broken edges of his mind cut at him.
And he was falling again. Fragmented memories surrounded him, drawing him deeper and deeper into himself.
Far, far away….
I'm sorry… I'm sorry….
---
Dooku startled at the ripples that spread out into the Force, with Kenobi at the epicentre. Interesting. He had never expected that the Jedi would willingly sever his connection to the Force… in a way, it was almost disappointing; he had expected Kenobi to hold on to his sanity for a little while longer.
Interesting.
He didn't smile, didn't make any outward indication that he was pleased; Dooku was above such petty exclamations of victory. But there was no doubt now that Skywalker would return to the planet, one way or another. It would take time, of course, but Skywalker was far too sensitive not to have felt the after-effects of Kenobi's mind shattering.
What apprentice wouldn't notice when their training bond was violently severed?
Interesting, indeed.
End Chapter 6
The story of Cerasi is from the Jedi Apprentice series, I believe it's books 5 and 6? I don't actually own those ones... yet. (evil smile) and the tale of Bruck and how he died is in book 7. We all know, of course, that Obi-Wan didn't really murder him.. he's Obi-Wan! But he was indeed responsible for Bruck's death. Hence the extreme guilting... oh, he's a fun character to mess with...
Ahem.
Reviews are LOVE, and I think thatmost of you are romantics, right? Share the LOVE! Review! (smile)
Xtine the Pirate!
