Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. That right belongs to George Lucas. It should be noted that some things are borrowed from Greg Bear and Jude Watson, both who write EU (Extended Universe) Star Wars books.
Writer's Block: Frank by The Water Daemon. This Neopets fic is rated M, is m/f, and does involve a lot of drug usage. Honestly, this fic is amazing. If you're into Neopets, this story provides an explanation for how a lot of things got to be in the 'real' Neopian world. It really enriched the experience of reading the fic. But even if you were clueless to Neopets, this story would be a good read. The characters are so vivid and intense, and the story's wording so intricate and unique, that I was instantly hooked after reading the first paragraph. Seriously.
I had fun writing the last chapter. It was nice having two new characters to 'play' with, and Obi-Wan, Omega, and Tyro definitely make a motley group. I wanted to tie the Death Star into everything, and when I was writing that last chapter it struck me that that was the perfect place to put it. I mean, what else would get the Empire so excited, if not a huge, moon-sized weapon of mass destruction? Oh, and Alley, under the alias of Shadow Padawan, was kind enough to tell me that Tyro also dies sometime in the JQ novels. So I guess I should state this: both Tyro and Omega are property of Jude Watson, and I have resurrected them for the purpose of my AU story.
Merci beaucoup for the reviews, I love reading them. This chapter is short (sorry about that), but it's got some important information in it. However, I'm not sure if my explanations of events are reasonable or absurd, as it's sometimes hard to explain things to a point where everything fits together smoothly. So if you see any gaps in logic, or wonder 'now, why the heck did this happen? It seems so much more realistic for that to happen…' please tell me, and I'll try to fix things up. This is a chapter where feedback is especially loved and needed. Well, I hope you enjoy it.
Page Amount: 4
Word Count: 3,053
Written 8-9-05
Listening to: Good Charlotte "The World is Black"
Written by Ice Dragon3
Jedi Genocide
Chapter Twenty: Temple
Obi-Wan meditated with the children of the Temple. But although the children were a great source of comfort for him, this was not his true reason for coming to the temple this time. He was waiting for Yoda to contact him. Earlier this morning he had given a small speech on the values and merits of the Empire. At the end he had said, 'The Empire is a force to be reckoned with.' Hopefully, Yoda was listening and would get the message. If not, then he had become a suck-up to the Empire for no reason. It was embarrassing enough how he had gushed. Honestly, he had felt like a geyser, unable to stop the flow of overly flattering words to a cause that deserved none. He hoped it wasn't broadcasted on many stations…just enough of them for Yoda to find it.
His comlink shuddered in his pocket, and he excused himself from the deathly silent room. Going to the next room over, he clicked it on, saying, "It's good to see you, Yoda. I have something important to tell you."
"Indeed, hope I do that you are correct. Or else wasted on the Empire compliments were," Yoda said, amused at how excessively Obi-Wan had spewed flattery at the Empire. Even when joking, he looked older than ever, lines running across his face like roots snaking across the ground. "Very enthusiastic, you were, and entertaining to watch. Sure you are that you are not on the Empire's side?"
Yoda's jokes did not have a forced quality to them, but the light humor in his eyes was diminished, and his teasing was not quite the same as it had once been—ever since the Clone Wars it had changed, and recent events only furthered the obviousness of that change. The humor was still there, the witty remarks with gentle chidings and lessons waiting to be discovered in them, but something was…missing. Obi-Wan couldn't really say, or understand, more than that.
"Haha…very funny… I was worried that I had overdone it. How in star's name do you compliment a dictatorship?" Obi-Wan frowned. "I think I repeated the same sentence of the 'Emperor's amazing leadership abilities' over three times, only with different wording. And then I ran out of original ideas and started using clichés. Those seemed to work, but I felt so…well, I suppose the only word to describe it is…corny. Which isn't the greatest adjective to begin with."
"See I do, now, why aired on so many stations it was. Compliments to the Emperor seem to always find their way to the many listening ears of the public." Yoda smiled, finding Obi-Wan's embarrassment humorous, just as a grandfather finds the exaggerated antics of his grandchildren amusing and wonderfully refreshing.
Obi-Wan groaned. "Really, it aired on a lot of stations? I was avoiding watching the Holonet and any other government-related transmissions for just that purpose. I didn't want to have to watch myself…I would be horrified. I made myself out to be a complete idiot."
"Only incompetent," Yoda said comfortingly, still smiling.
"Oh. That's much better. Thank you for the consolation." But Obi-Wan did return Yoda's smile with a grin of his own. However, soon his expression darkened. "Before I tell you my news…I have something that I've been wanting to ask you…"
"Ask it, then," Yoda said patiently, shifting his grip on his well-worn gimer stick as he prepared himself for a confrontation. The humor in his eyes melted away, leaving only the solemnity.
"Why did you keep those—those things in the storage closets? Force, Yoda, what do Sith Holocrons and lightsabers have to do with being a Jedi!" Obi-Wan asked angrily. "I repeated your warning to Tarren, word for word, not even knowing what I was warning him about! You gave those keys to me and didn't tell me a thing…and then I did the same to Tarren… If you had forewarned me, I might have been able to prevent what happened. They didn't have to die."
"Would have changed events, you say?" Yoda closed his eyes, a weary frown on his face. "No, nothing different would have come had I told you. Only aware of the darkness ahead would you be. Better it was for you to focus on the present, than worry about unchangeable events. Often blind you are to the Living Force when thoughts of the Unifying Force arise. Jeopardized your mission you would surely had done in your anxiety, and then the Force would have had to receive the spirits of more than just two Jedi."
"You knew about this? You knew what the outcomes of your decisions were?" Obi-Wan exclaimed, outraged. If Yoda had knowingly sacrificed his younglings…
"No. Only glimpses of dark times did I see. Decipher specific events I cannot. A blanket of evil cloaks my sight, and I am left with only guesses and possibilities." Yoda opened his eyes, the lines on his face deeper than before. The sagging flesh around his eyes only enlarged the two orbs, making their green more luminous and intense from their sufferings—he had the gaze of the wise owl, who's only question left unanswered was 'who?' "Fear I do that the Light Side will be smothered completely under this darkness."
"I get the same feeling at times," Obi-Wan agreed, unable to stay the shiver that ran its cold claw down his spine. It worried him. If he could sense it, then he couldn't begin to fathom the coming darkness Yoda, with his greater attunement to the future, must be feeling…but Yoda also had a stronger heart, and could hold up better. He'd never known the old Master to lose hope before, and he didn't expect to see that happen in the future. "But I also wanted to know…why couldn't I sense the evil in the storage closets? Or the good, for that matter?"
"Balance each other out, they do. The light blights out the dark, the dark conceals the light. Together, when in perfect harmony, invisible they become."
"Why do you even keep those things in there? To keep something so grotesquely evil in the heart of good…it's like you let a parasite into the core of the Jedi spirit, and allowed it to gorge itself on our innately good energy. I trust there is a purpose in all this, and that is why I have not removed them from the Temple yet…but for me to continue to house these relics of the Sith, you must tell me the reason why."
"Afford to ignore the Dark Side, we cannot. Have knowledge on all sides of the Force, we must. Come to understand you will that you must learn all truths, or else you will have learned nothing. Keep the cubes and pyramids we did, and learned from them we have. These dark holocrons, created from the hope of enhancing the darkness in the galaxy, have become our weapon with which to fight it. For from these holocrons learned we did how to fight the enemy, their motives and weaknesses.
"Knows all paths of the Force a true Jedi does—the Dark Side, the Light Side, and all grays in-between—and once seeing all the trails, chooses to walk the path of good. For the heart cannot be completely dedicated to a cause that it has not chosen willingly, once seen it has all the other options. To be tempted by great evil, and to have the willpower to spurn that advance, is what makes a Jedi great. Young an untested hero is, and apt to make mistakes for all his glory and quick righteousness. The modestly clad man who walks quietly among the darkness, who sees the bleakness around and strengthens his own light because of it in the hopes of guiding others, is the one of greater strength.
"See you now the reason to keep this darkness in the center of the light? Better it is to have the darkness contained in our Temple than for it to wreck havoc outside."
"Why not just destroy the Sith Holocrons? Then there'd be nothing to worry about."
"Wrong you are." Yoda rapped his gimer stick on the floor (since the hologram didn't show the floor, the effect was comically eerie). "Darkness there will always be. Destroying the information on it will not rid us of it. Only blind us that will do—give false hope and security. If destroyed the Sith Holocrons were, lose the advantage over our enemy we would. And then, noticeable the Jedi Holocrons would become—what think you the enemy? Suspicious, they will become of this bright light, and redouble their efforts to destroy that which they hate and fear. Better to keep the balance, it is."
Obi-Wan didn't speak. Was there anything really left to say? Yoda had more wisdom than him—he had to trust that the Jedi Master knew what he was doing. He smiled briefly on the inside; now he knew why and how Yoda was so well-informed on the Dark Side (for the way Yoda had repelled Palpatine's Sith Lightning with his hands had been entirely too controlled to be the actions done on intuition). Perhaps Yoda was living truth of his own reasoning.
"Answers, I have given you. Satisfy you, will they?" Yoda asked gravely.
"Yes…I need time to let it all settle, but I think I see what you mean. I just need to sort everything out and come to terms with it myself." Tarren and Skraith's deaths still pained him; he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was his fault for not knowing what was held in those storage closets. And all of Yoda's reasoning could not numb his emotional guilt. Some feelings were beyond the bounds of logic.
"Then no more shall we talk of this matter, for repetition reinforces not understanding, but memorization. Tell me this important information that you have." Yoda nudged him into motion with his soft command.
"Right." Business was something he could focus on, and where the grays of morality came into play only after the events. "I was able to penetrate into the Imperial Senate's files with the help of two accomplices—" Yoda held up a wizened, clawed hand, effectively stopping Obi-Wan mid-sentence.
"These accomplices, trustworthy they are?" Yoda's gaze was sharp.
"I trust Tyro with my life," Obi-Wan swore. "He has helped me many times before, and he's loyal to the Jedi and the Old Republic. He's not with the Empire, that's for certain."
"But as for the other, sense I do that you are hesitant to answer. A reason for this, hmmm?"
"…The other is Granta Omega," Obi-Wan said reluctantly. Yoda's olive green eyes frowned in thought. "I know that we can't trust him. He'd as soon betray us as he would the Empire—which is a likely thing to happen, from what he told me. But I think that he won't tell anyone of what we found…not unless it's profitable for him, or if we anger him. He would get into trouble himself, so it goes against his self-serving nature to talk without good reason."
Yoda sighed. "Selective we cannot be, in these times. Deal with what we have, we must and will. Now, what is it that you found?"
"The Empire is building an enormous battle station called the Death Star. It has the power to blow up small planets, and once built it'll be nearly invincible. Construction is already underway, and the estimation of its finishing time is in a couple years. With this machine, they could spread terror over the galaxy. They would be able to destroy anyone opposing them with the click of a button—annihilate protesting star systems in minutes. Everyone would be too afraid to stand up to them."
"Stopped, they must be, before this abomination is completed." Yoda's face was grave; he was envisioning the bleak future the Death Star would create through destruction.
"Those are my thoughts exactly—I'm worried that they might become too powerful for us to fight against if they have that monstrous machine under their command. I think I might have gained something that could help us bring them down before that can happen." Obi-Wan pulled out Anakin's schedule planner. "I found this when sneaking into Skywalker's office. It holds information on his schedule; where he'll be at what times. We might be able to catch him off guard with this."
Yoda's face lightened a margin, and his pointed elf-like ears perked up slightly. "Good news, this can be. But sure you must be, before handing this over," he said grimly. "Know you must by now, that should you give this over, use it we will to kill the Sith."
Obi-Wan paused, holding the datapad in a faintly shaking hand. He had never really thought that far in advance…he'd always imagined that they'd lock Anakin up in a prison on some far away, Outer Rim planet, where he couldn't hurt himself or anyone else. But death…could he really handle that? He held Anakin's life in his hand—this stupid, shaking hand that wouldn't still. But he had to complete the mission… These two ideas conflicted in his mind, fighting like a rabid dog and cat—each knowing that this was the final battle, each desperate to survive. He had to make a decision…Anakin or the mission…the Jedi or a family…
"I'll give it to you," Obi-Wan said eventually, his voice cracking faintly, although both pretended not to hear the waver in his timbre.
The mission won. He could not voluntarily send the galaxy into a world of terror, freely allowing a weapon such as the Death Star to be built as he pretended that such evils did not exist in his little world. In doing so, in remaining neutral when he had the ability to be good, he would have become part of the evil himself. He just couldn't do that, couldn't be that kind of person.
"I flipped through it myself, and I discovered that he's going to be on Mustafar all day tomorrow. That could be a good time to strike; it's soon, so it doesn't give Skywalker time to realize his datapad's missing, and the planet's isolated. The population is sparse, mostly workers who live onsite, so there's not much of a chance of civilians getting hurt should a head-on collision occur. It's the ideal place to ambush him." Obi-Wan transferred the rest of the information on the datapad to Yoda's comlink, just in case they would need to plan something beyond Mustafar, should that ambush fail.
Yoda looked over the information himself. "Mustafar, the best time it seems," he agreed with Obi-Wan. "Strike we will, and hope to end this quickly. Contact you I will in two days, to tell you if win or lose we do. Thank you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master of the Jedi Order. The right thing you did, if any consolation it be."
Obi-Wan smiled tightly—feeling the fake smile stretch across his face like rubber and hating the sensation—as Yoda disappeared.
It was the right thing, but his heart felt heavy.
And his hand still would not stop shaking!
But he knew that there was no other way. He understood that the galaxy would be in danger as long as a Sith roamed it. There was no other option. It would be a justified death, in the name of the greater good.
He trudged heavily out of the room, concealing his comlink inside his sky-blue septsilk tunic. It was another one of Anakin's handpicked, silly, frivolous, beautiful outfits. Instead of heading back towards the meditation room, Obi-Wan started towards the Jedi Archives. He needed to be around objects—not people—objects that did not ask questions, but gave answers.
When he had first become a Jedi Knight and a Master to Anakin, he had felt an overwhelming need for guidance. So much had been thrown into his face all at once, and there had been no step-by-step manual buried beneath all the tools and materials he had been given. He had looked up information on his past missions with Qui-Gon, to see if there was any advice in them that would help him to become a better person and a fair teacher. He found out that not only were the holofiles informative, but also soothing. It brought back good memories, reading those files. He missed Qui-Gon's protective, quiet but strong spirit. Remembrance brought some of that secure, safe feeling back.
So while at first he had only researched those files for information, he soon started to read them whenever he felt lost or frustrated. They produced a peace in him that no living being could. Those files were his security blanket, something old and tattered and having no material or sentimental value to anyone but himself, and he was careful not to overuse it, lest it fell apart from wear-and-tear.
Right now, he desperately needed them.
He entered the enormous Archive room. Going to a terminal, he typed some commands into the search engine. But nothing popped up. His brow furrowed, and he tried a search using a different chain of words. He hadn't checked up anything in the near future, so maybe the main computer had, in its programmed self-cleaning routine, moved the files to a different port to save space. Or compressed them, or renamed them, or something… He tried a different approach with the search engine. Still nothing.
He searched the backwater files on the computer…the deleted bin…removed files…recorded history…Holonet information on Jedi missions… Nothing. There was absolutely no trace of Qui-Gon left. Obi-Wan stared at the computer, dumbfounded. How could this be possible?
Something clicked in his mind. Anakin—taking away his Jedi clothes, destroying his equipment, distancing him from the temple. In a rare display of frustration and anger, he pounded his fist on the desk he was sitting at, though what he truly wanted to do was break down and cry. Its metal frame rattled beneath him, and his hand stung from abusing itself on such a hard surface. He gritted his teeth, brutally typing in the commands needed to turn off the computer.
So even that part of his life, the past, was disappearing.
Force, was he to be left with nothing once this was over?