Chapter 7 - Cruelties
Censured.
Obi-Wan mulled it over as he ate in the dining hall. As if his own bitterness and sadness over that horrific mission and the loss of Siri wasn't enough, the Council censured them for half a karking year! Six months grounded to the temple was insane! While it was true the mission itself had been an absolute mess on both the master's and the padawan's sides, he felt it was a bit extreme. But... a high councilor along with her promising padawan was dead. They had let the mission slip right through their fingers when they had it in the bag. They had Tally safe! The boy had been in the room with two Jedi masters and two padawans, and somehow had been stolen away right under their noses. Then the pairs of Jedi separated, and everything went wrong.
A high councilor dead.
Siri dead (oh Siri...).
Tally probably also dead, or worse.
The mission had been a utter disaster. A black streak against both his and his master's records. Even worse, the temple rumor mill had started up, and now it was apparently both his and Qui-Gon's fault a council-member was dead. All of Siri's friends who weren't also his friends went out of their way to shoot him cold looks. He hoped Qui-Gon didn't have to suffer the same from Master Gallia's friends. Bant and Garen were the only ones who stood by Obi-Wan. And Reeft, but he always swore that Dressellian boy stuck around merely to steal food off his plate-like right now.
Obi-Wan's hand smacked his away, shooting him a scowl. "Hey!"
Reeft shot him a sheepish look. "I don't mean to sound greedy, but may I have your meat?"
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and shoved the plate his way. "By all means, you had but to ask."
"So giving," said Reeft, "Exemplary example of being a Jedi."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Yes, definitely a Jedi, giving their food to those starving and underfed."
Reeft gave him an innocent look, which Obi-Wan returned with a pointed one.
Bant gave a laugh at that. "Boys, behave, or I'll tell Master Che you two want to help out in the Halls of Healing."
Both of them went quiet without a further word.
Garen laughed. "Afraid of the healers. Ah man, if Siri were hear, she'd tease the both of you."
Obi-Wan's face cracked a little. "Probably."
"We needa Yoda joke," said Garen, making Obi-Wan sniggered a little, behind a hand he hid his restored smile, for he most certainly, certainly, did not partake in such a playful mockery of the Grandmaster of the Order.
"'Fear of the healers', path to the Dark Side it is'," said Garen in his most Yoda-like voice, "Siri woulda loved that one."
Obi-Wan flinched a little at that. Mentioning Siri and the Dark Side so close together made him raw in a way he did not like. For a moment, he was back in the mission, feeling Siri fall before she died. He abruptly shook his head, released his anxiety to the Force, and plastered a fake smile on his face. Bant of course noticed, giving him a concerned look, but Garen and Reeft didn't seem to, the both of them starting to crack one joke after another. He couldn't blame them for it. Garen hadn't lost many people, but for those he did, he always actively remembered, said it hurt worse to forget about them than the pain of remembering.
He didn't know if he should bury her memory, or be like Garen. He tilted his head in thought, perhaps he ought to ask his master. He knew Qui-Gon still thought about Tahl every now and then. Though, could he really compare the two pairs? Qui-Gon and Tahl had loved eachother for years, him and Siri? A few days at best. Passing it off as a momentary infatuation might make it easier to bear.
Yet... they had felt something, so trying to do so felt like it would be spitting on her grave... he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Obi-Wan shook his head, frustration rippling through his body. Enough of this, he was tired of getting pulled back and forth by his emotions and everyone's unintentional commentary. He sorely needed to meditate. He bid his friends an abrupt farewell, eyes not meeting Bant's concerned ones, and made to leave...
Only to eat the floor as a leg came out from a nearby table and tripped him, a voice mocking, "Careful Oaffy-Wan! Might kill a padawan with your clumsiness!"
Obi-Wan didn't move for a second, disbelief coursing through him. Did they seriously just say that to his face? Fire burned at his core for a moment, especially at that damned old cruel name, Force he hadn't heard that since Bruck. He so sorely wanted to launch himself at whoever had said that...
But Bant was there in an instant, helping him to his feet and shooting a glare at the offender in question before leading him away, murmuring, "It's not worth it."
"Maybe not," he whispered back angrily, "But I want to."
"You are on censure," she warned quietly as they left the cafeteria, "Regardless of how absurd that censure is for something that wasn't your fault, you can't afford to get in trouble."
Obi-Wan sighed and did his best to release his anger into the Force. "I know, thank you."
"Don't let those poor excuses of Jedi get to you," advised Bant, glaring back at the shrinking cafeteria doors, "They've obviously failed to learn that compassion is the way of the Jedi. Now come, lets get you back to your Master."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I can walk on my own you know."
Bant gave him a smile that was all teeth. "I'm walking with you as dissuasion for others."
Obi-Wan snorted, but didn't comment. Force, had it truly gotten that bad that she felt the need to be protective of him? Then again, he had eaten floor a minute ago courtesy of his padawan peers. It filled him with resignation. This wasn't the first time this had happened, after he had left the Order to try to help Ceresi and the Young, there had been much of the same. This Censure plus the rumors and bile thrown his way on top of that just made him feel... weary of his fellow Jedi. It was often suggested during Censures to mingle and befriend Jedi one didn't know to help pass the time. That wasn't going to happen. The last few weeks, especially today, made him not want to even leave his quarters, let alone make friends with any of his tormentors or those who looked down upon him and his master with disapproval.
The next six months were going to be rough...
Siri followed her Mas-Sidious, not her Master, curiously down the hall. They had spent the last few days debating the Jedi, their Code, the Sith, and theirs, and their history. She had learned so much about the conflict that had predated the Republic. Ancient Sith lords such as Exar Kun, Marka Ragnos, Darth Nihilus, Darth Sion, Darth Revan, and many others. Each one was a lesson, often about the strengths of the Dark Side or as a warning. The last one in particular had been a scary one; that the Jedi Order would Strip someone's mind and identity to bend them back to their will was deeply unsettling.
Today, Sidious had said they would be having a practical lesson, to 'wean her off Jedi tendencies'. She wondered 'which' tendency he was referring to. She followed him into a room...
...and paused in the doorway, sighting a family of Togruta; a man, a woman, and two children bound to chairs, gags in their mouth. The older two were to one side of the room, the children to the other. A sinking feeling hit Siri all of the sudden, something bad was about to happen.
"You're task is simple, my apprentice," said Sidious, handing her a lightsaber, "Kill them all."
Siri chocked. "Y-you're joking."
Sidious stared at her. "No apprentice, I am not. The mere fact you hesitate shows me just how much this lesson is necessary. You must be willing to kill at a moments notice, no matter who and what it is you kill. Men, woman, children, it shouldn't matter. A Sith will do what they must to achieve their goals, regardless of who is in the way. Now, kill them."
A nervous gulp ran down her throat. She felt the fear from the captives rising steadily. It was... an intoxicating sensation, alluring, but so sinful. She had said she didn't want to pussyfoot anymore... but this... these were innocent people. She couldn't...
Sidious sighed at her hesitation. "Still so entrapped within the Jedi Mindset. Here, I shall make this choice easier for you. I will slowly torture them to death over a greatly extended period of time, their only release from their suffering will be the lightsaber in your hand."
Before she could respond, he turned and aimed a hand, lightning (much weaker from what he had done to her she noted) rushed from his fingertips, electrocuting both sets of occupants. Muffled screams ripped through their gags, making Siri's heart skip a beat. The sight, the stench of frying children ignited such a fury in her. She turned on Sidious without hesitation, rushing at him, lightsaber raised...
Only for the lightning to switch targets, increase in intensity, and throw her across the room, lightsaber falling from her hands. "Typical Jedi response. Oh my apprentice I am quite disappointed."
She screamed as the lightning grew in intensity. "You have so far to go, so shall I make this even easier? There are two pairs, the children and the parents. Kill one pair, and I won't force you to kill the other. Is this acceptable?"
Sidious stopped the lightning and stared down, yellow eyes boring into her. "Well?"
Siri took in a ragged breath. "F-fine..."
The children... they were truly innocent, they had to live. Being a Jedi, she hadn't known her own parents, but from what she had seen and heard any real parent would die for their children... so it... it had to be at least better this way... it had to be okay...
Right?
Siri shakily rose to her feet, picking up the lightsaber and wobbled over to the parents. She stared at them silently. One's shoulder's had gone lax, resigned, but accepting. The other was still panicking, trying to beg or plead or whatever through the gag. She glared at the second one, a sting of anger running through her, momentarily banishing the building anxiety and reluctance in her. A parent should be willing to make this sacrifice, if this was their reaction...
She slashed downward, leaving a burning diagonal line from shoulder to opposing thigh without hesitation, savoring the muffled scream and putting that disgusting excuse for a parent out of it's misery. She flexed her grip on the lightsaber, feeling a rush of cold enter her. The notion of killing the second wasn't as... bad as it felt before. She would give this one a quick death as a sign of respect, over in an instant. Lightsaber through the middle of their head was a quick enough way.
She withdrew her lightsaber, feeling only a slight churn of guilt, burried under the growing cold. "There, happy?"
"Positively elated," said Sidious dryly, holding out a hand and ripping his lightsaber from her grip with the Force without further word and slowly started towards the children.
Siri frowned, that bad feeling from earlier bubbling up again. "Now, you said you'd let them go."
Sidious turned his head, flashing a cruel smile. "I said I wouldn't force you to kill them, I said nothing about letting them go."
He turned, aimed his hands, and unleashed a brutal barrage of lightning at the two children. Siri watched, horrified even through the numbing cold, as the children melted. Clothes caught on fire, skin bubbled, eyeballs burst, bodies spasmed. In a moment, both were dead in what had to be one of the most painful deaths Siri had ever seen.
"Let that be a twofold lesson, apprentice," spat Sidious, "One, to never trust the words of another. And two, to not believe the easy path is not laid with traps. You thought by killing the parents you spared the children. Instead, you made their deaths agonizing instead of quick and painless."
"Bastard," hissed Siri, fury raging inside of her, demanding retribution for his deception.
Oh, and for the deaths of the children, that... that should be more important. Should have been her first thought.
"Each and every day, I will bring you before a selection of abductees, and you will kill them. If you do not, we will have a repeat of today's session. This will continue until I am satisfied in your willingness to kill," said Sidious coldly, "Am I clear?"
"Perfectly," she spat out.
"Perfectly what?" said Sidious.
Siri didn't gave him the satisfaction of calling him Master.
That didn't appear to phase him, as he instead raised his hands and unleashed another barrage of lightning upon her, sending her screaming to the ground. "Perfectly Master is what you should have said. You will give me the respect I am entitled, or I will rip and/or beat it from you. Am. I. Clear?"
"Yes...," she gasped out, "...master."
The lightning stopped. "Good, good."
He stared down at her for a moment, frowning. "Your pain tolerance is pathetically low."
He turned and strode for the door. "We will need to work on that as well. Return to the training room and practice your Makashi, I will return tomorrow. I left you a... gift... to assist in with your training. I trust you will enjoy it."
Siri scowled at his retreating form until he was gone before rising to her feet wearily. "I hate that bastard so much."
She made for the door, pausing briefly to look back at the four corpses, mournfully at the children, before leaving. She strode to the training room, trying to flex her aching limbs. The moment she walked inside a warning flared in the Force; she dove instantly, the sound of something impacting heavily on the ground behind her was heard. She spun, sighting a droid with an electrified staff rushing at her. She swore under her breath and leaped back, hand reaching out towards a weapon's rack and calling a training lightsaber to her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the gift was.
The droid came at her relentlessly, staff spinning and sparking as it swung at her. The moment she blocked she hissed as sparks sprayed and a jolt ran down the saber on impact. That was most certainly not a low setting. She was not interested in getting hit by... what was that whirring sound?
She turned her head, eyes going wide, as another droid came at her from her right, and another from her left...
A frenzied minute later Siri was on the the floor, bloodied, and screaming as the droids beat her down, shocking staves smashing into her over and over again. She curled into a ball, crying out with each impact. Her anger and fear and pain bubbled until the Dark Side burst out of her, sending each droid flying across the room three separate ways, smashing into the wall and crumpling to the ground, circuits sparking. Siri laid there for a moment, world spinning, ears ringing, black spots dancing across her vision, the taste of blood in her mouth. She shakily reached a hand forward and clawed the floor, pulling her forward.
One pull at a time, she made for the medical bay. Sidious... he wouldn't give her a moments break if she passed out and awoke there tomorrow. Had to... had to get this... treated now... had to... get to...
Sidious sighed and followed a small trail of blood down the hall. As an afterthought, he had decided to assign his apprentice more reading of the Sith Language and history and had briefly returned to give it to her. Judging by the pain he felt emanating from her-and the fact he just felt her fall unconscious, that wasn't going to happen. He didn't allow himself to be disappointed, or rather, not moreso than usual, as he came across her crumpled form, grabbed the back of her robe, and dragged her down the hallway.
"What am I going to do with you my apprentice," he mused, "Three droids shouldn't matter to you, highest setting and lethal weapons or not. The Jedi these days, they don't condition their young close to enough, not even a fraction of what I had Maul put through when he was half your age."
He glanced down at her wearily. "It going to take such effort to polish this jewel into a shining example of a Sith, to wipe away the dirt and grime, the Jedi's filthy influence and weak training."
He strode into the infirmary and threw her to the floor, glancing at the medical droid. "Deal with this."
He turned and left, irritated. He had a meeting with his own Master to attend, followed by the rest of the day pretending to be a wise old gentle caring Senator Palpatine. Force, he couldn't wait till the Jedi were dead, his Master dead, and he the Emperor of the first Sith Empire in thousands of years. He wouldn't have to hide who he was, for there was no sense of satisfaction in it. It was so pathetically easy to deceive the Jedi, no challenge at all. He had more difficulty with aged and wizened politicians.
Perhaps he'd briefly stop on the way to his Master and find a... release... to his frustration. The lower levels were after all full of those no-one would miss if they were found dead he next day. It was an endless supply of relaxation-the suffering and death of those beneath him, and as tools to further his apprentice's descent into the Dark Side, and eventual claiming of her Sith name. But that would be years away, he hadn't bothered trying to think of one yet for her. She needed to earn the right for him to even begin musing on her potential tittle.
Musings for another day he supposed. He left the building, climbed into his speeder, and descended further into the lower levels, on the prowl...
Author's Notes:
Poor Obi, getting hate he doesn't deserve. This has a purpose rather than just being there. Obi-Wan isn't going to end up exactly like his cannon counterpart, especially with the other Jedi causing a rift. Less code preaching, more mavericky like his master, and potentially other changes. Siri is getting more experience in just how cruel Sith training truly is.
Review responses:
Nerman3000: I predict this story will roughly go to the Yuuzhan Vong invasion (with time skips here and there). Afterwards I already have a loose idea for a sequel in mind.