Chapter Thirteen : Candle in Dark Places
Theed, Naboo
The force was dark with sorrow.
It clouded her purpose, veiling her eyes from the singular spark of living fire she sought. It was not only her own sorrow, or Obi-Wan's, or Anakin's. It was the sorrow of every mother who had lost a son, every fatherless child, every widow. It was the Naboovians and the Gungans'. It rolled thickly around her, obscuring everything. She would accomplish nothing more today.
Sabe's eyes opened. When she'd shut them, noonday light had been streaming through the tall arching windows of the Palace Great hall. Now the windows were dark and the healers moved silently among the rows of makeshift pallets that crowded the hall from wall to wall. Sabe heard the steady breathing and soft snores of the people who slept around her.
She loosened her tight grip on Sache's hand and smoothed the girl's hair from her damp brow. Though Yane had livened right up after a few decent meals and some elementary first aid, Sache had taken the deprivation of the prison camps harder. The evening after the liberation she'd fallen ill with a dangerous fever. Though her fever had broken, there were still troubling hollows in her cheeks and purple smudges beneath her eyes. She was unnaturally pale, and spent most of the day sleeping. Sabe had tried to offer what little healing she was capable of giving, but found her own skill sorely lacking.
Sache wasn't the only one. In the first few days after the liberation the wounded and ailing flooded into Theed from all parts of the planet, Gungans and Naboovians among them. In addition, Theed itself was in shambles, and many of its citizens found themselves suddenly homeless. The blockade was gone but food was still scarce, and shipments were not expected for another day or so.
At first no one seemed to have any clear idea of where to begin. But then Queen Amidala seemed to hit her second wind, and a flurry of commands came with it. The palace guard was assigned to policing the rationing of what food stores they had, and beginning to clean up and rebuild. As it became clear that the Theed Medical Center was unable to serve the overwhelming numbers of casualties from the war, the Queen ordered that the Great Hall of the Palace and the auditorium of the Theed Academy be opened as temporary field hospitals. She ordered every member of her staff that could be spared to assist the healers.
Sabe would have preferred to share the more active duties of the guardsmen. But Rabe insisted that Sabe help in the Palace Great Hall, even going to Queen Amidala for intervention. Sabe suspected that it wasn't Rabe's desire for her skills as a nurse that drove her, but suspicion about Jedi healing and a continuing concern for her wound.
She'd managed to avoid her thoughts, keeping herself busy with the tasks Rabe assigned to her. If she was brutally honest with herself she would admit that she worked past midnight in the Great Hall every night to avoid Padme's pity, and Obi-Wan's eyes. Not that there was much risk of seeing Obi-Wan. Rabe had told her that he was immersed in deep meditation in the temple where Qui-Gon's body lay in a airtight polymer casket, awaiting the arrival of the Jedi Council.
"Sabe."
Sabe raised her head weakly, feeling somewhat poorly after the attempt with Sache.
"You don't look well," Rabe said kindly. "I will see to Sache. You go on and get some rest."
Sabe was much too tired to argue. She really had no business attempting healing. She had not the training or the ability for it. If any of the Jedi had caught her at it she would be severely reprimanded. Grabbing the basket of soiled linen at her feet, Sabe rose from her chair, and with one last look at the pale, sleeping girl in the bed, left the Great Hall.
Her steps echoed through the empty corridor. It was fairly late, and there was no other sound except for the whistle of the wind in the palace turrets. A rather creepy evening… Sabe shivered. Then she stopped in the middle of the hallway.
A pulse of energy. A throbbing pulse of great power. Sabe frowned, closing her eyes and extending her senses cautiously. She was so distracted that when the small pair of hands grabbed the back of her skirt, she screamed and threw the basket in the air, scattering linens all over the floor.
"Hide me, Sabe!" Anakin pleaded, not losing his grip on her skirt as he panted for breath and cast wild looks over his shoulder.
"Anakin, what in the Republic!" Sabe gasped, her hand to her heart. "What have you done now?"
"Eirtae…going to kill me….please, Sabe!"
Sabe smothered a grin as she bent and began to collect the clothing from the floor. "First things first," She straightened and attempted to look stern. "Have you finished it?"
The panic faded from the boy's face, replaced by a grin. "Real close," he bragged, then scratched the back of his head. "One more thing I need, though."
"What's that?" Sabe asked nervously. Anakin's grocery list of supplies had already achieved near-epic proportions.
He gave her an endearingly sheepish smile, or at least what he probably thought was one. "Um, nothing much, just…aminisuperconductor."
"What!" Sabe exclaimed. "How in the Republic am I to get a mini super conductor?"
He shrugged.
"ANAKIN SKYWALKER!"
The booming voice echoed in the rafters, and the floor seemed to shake beneath their feet. Anakin turned to Sabe with blue eyes the size of dinner plates. "Please!"
Sabe chuckled and walked over to the wall, pressing the panel made to look like part of the stone. The giant marble blocks slid aside, revealing a passage. "I will do my best," she said to Anakin, who scrambled into the opening without delay. "In the meantime, take this straight on with no turns and it will lead you to Padme's door. She will protect you, I imagine. Unless you've pulled pranks on her too."
Anakin winked at her as he turned and run into the blackness. She closed the passage behind him.
It was not a moment too soon. Eirtae barreled around the corner, her face scarlet. "Where is he!"
"Why Eirtae," Sabe said with studied innocence. "What's wrong?"
"That…that…child," Eirtae spluttered, wringing her hands with helpless rage. "He took apart my datapad and FAILED to put it back together again."
Sabe pressed her lips together, glancing toward a metal vent embedded in the wall. A pair of blue eyes peered through. They lowered guiltily at Eirtae's words.
"What are you looking at?" Eirtae asked suspiciously.
Sabe snapped to attention and shoved her basket into Eirtae's hands. "Oh, nothing! I just think I hear the Queen calling. Could you take that downstairs? Thanks!"
Sabe hurried off in the other direction, leaving a bewildered Eirtae in the hall with a basket in her hands.
The ship turned in mid air fifty feet above ground, its faded red paint looking even more so in the bright sunshine. Two hundred eyes watched it. It was one of those transcendent moments when everyone knew what everyone else was thinking.
As the ramp descended and the Senate guard marched out to meet the Naboovian Troops, Queen Amidala turned to Nute Gunray imprisoned with his chief advisor. "Now, Viceroy, you're going to have to go back to the senate and explain all this."
Sabe studied their enemies, fallen to defeat and shame now. It did not seem like enough. Captain Panaka seemed to agree as he approached the two. His voice shook with suppressed rage. "I think you can kiss your trade franchise good bye." His hold was none too gentle on Nute Gunray's arm as he dragged the Viceroy toward the Senate Guard.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sabe watched Obi-Wan and Anakin as they walked forward. Obi-Wan touched Anakin's shoulder, and the boy bowed to the Chancellor. Obi-Wan followed suit. His face was clear of the wild grief she had last seen on it, but he wore a blank look she found even more disturbing.
"We are indebted to you for your bravery, Obi-Wan Kenobi," The Chancellor said. Then he glanced at the boy that he had not before deigned to notice. "And you, young Skywalker. We shall follow your career with great interest."
Sabe wondered when he had begun using the royal "we". He certainly seemed to have settled comfortably into the roll of Supreme Chancellor. His air was all triumph and self-satisfaction as he approached the Queen with a quick stride.
But Queen Amidala seemed to have forgiven him his opportunism. She favored him with a gracious smile. "Congratulations on your election, Supreme Chancellor."
"Your boldness has saved our people," Palpatine gushed. "It's you who should be congratulated."
Sabe resented his hand on Queen Amidala's arm and his companionable air as he continued. "Together, we shall bring peace and prosperity to the republic."
The cost… Sabe's eyes drifted back to Obi-Wan and Anakin, and then beyond to the ramp of the Chancellor's ship, where now she could see twelve figures dressed in varying shades of brown and chocolate slowly descending the platform. She swayed as theirForce presencesreached her, and remembered the way those stern faces looked from the vantage point of a five-year-old; distant, unyielding, and terrifying.
Now their power was no less awesome, but she felt the same way looking at them as she often felt looking at the magnificent water falls of Theed or the towering peaks of the southern mountains; a small part of something immense, completely insignificant and grateful for the knowledge of it. Again Obi-Wan prompted Anakin to bow and bent low himself. Sabe felt like joining them.
Queen Amidala and the Chancellor turned, walking toward the bridge to the Plaza together. "Tonight we memorialize Qui-Gon Jinn, Supreme Chancellor. He gave his life defending mine," the Queen told him.
"This is grave news indeed," said the Chancellor. "We must give every honor to those who give their lives for the greater good."
The empty platitude made a wave of nausea hit Sabe's stomach. It must have shown on her face despite her cloak, for there was a quiet voice at her ear.
"Politics must unfortunately be conducted by politicians," Obi-Wan murmured for her ears only.
Sabe attempted to smile, but succeeded only in a wan approximation. She saw the same forced, humorless expression on his face as they followed the Queen and Chancellor back toward the palace.
The drum roll vibrated in her bones, in her throat, in her very heart as the hooded Jedi Knight lowered the torch to the bed of kindling on which the body of Qui-Gon lay. She had fortunately only had rare occasions to attend funerals in Naboo, and would still have found their practice of public cremation grotesque even if she had not known the man they celebrated.
The body did not look like a mere shell to her. It looked like Qui-Gon. He appeared to be only sleeping quietly, his face wearing the same composed expression it always did. As the flames began to lick at his robes and then burn through them, she fully expected him to flinch, sit up, and assure them that it had all been some sort of mistake. She wanted to beat the flames out, scream at them all for being stupid. How could they imagine that Qui-Gon was dead? It was ridiculous.
But Qui-Gon did not move. As the flames began to take away his features and identity, as the horrid smell of burnt hair and flesh filled the air of the temple, her breath came fast and panic began to cover her.
No, this isn't right. It can't be.
She looked around for help, but every face she saw stared unflinchingly at the ghastly spectacle, eyes made blood red by the firelight. She felt a scream building.
HE SAVED US! HOW CAN YOU JUST STAND THERE?
It was then that she heard Obi-Wan's voice, just audible above the crackling of the flames.
"He is at one with the Force now, Anakin. You must let him go."
I will NOT.
For that one moment, she hated him. It was only sheer force of will that kept her from pushing through the crowd and running from the temple.
A group of veiled Naboovian women stepped forward and opened the reed cages they carried, and a flock of white doves struggled out, their wings beating against one another as they flew into the smoke rolling up through the circular hole in the ceiling. Smoke and birds together streamed out of the temple, and the body was gone.
"The creature that Qui-Gon fought in the desert, and again in the royal hangar was a Sith Lord."
Master Mace Windu's words seemed dire in the quiet atmosphere of the library, though none of them understood their meaning exactly. Queen Amidala leaned forward in her chair. "A Sith Lord?" she repeated.
"Yes," Master Windu said. "A user of the dark arts. The Jedi have not seen a live Sith in a thousand years."
The Queen pursed her lips and looked around at the twelve Jedi seated in the library in various attitudes. She had called them together to question them further about Master Jinn's death, and to brief them on all the events that had transpired. "Why was I not told about this sooner?"
"Sure, we had to be," Master Yoda said. "Expected, this was not."
"After Padawan Kenobi's experience with the dark warrior and our own examination of the body, there can be no doubt," Master Windu added.
"Why would an enemy of the Jedi be interested in Naboo?" Captain Panaka asked.
Master Yoda folded his small green hands across his twisted little staff and rested his chin on top of them. "Know, we do not. Complex are Sith schemes. Seeking power, they always are."
"It seems counterproductive to attack Naboo," The Queen said. "We may be a lush planet, but we have hardly any real power in the Republic. The invasion proved it."
"Well, regardless, the Sith was defeated," Panaka said. "It doesn't really matter now what he was after, does it?"
"Actually, Captain Panaka, Master Yoda and I have good reason to believe the Sith was not alone," Master Windu said.
"And what reason would that be?" Captain Panaka asked irritably. He had grown no love for Jedi during the course of the Invasion.
"Sith tradition," Master Windu replied.
"Two there always are," Master Yoda added emphatically. "One power to hold, the other power to crave."
Captain Panaka and the Queen looked at one another. "You will find the other Sith, of course?"
Master Windu shook his head. "We will try. Sith are notoriously skilled at shielding their presences, and are often in possession of vast resources. The second Sith could be anywhere in the Galaxy."
"A credit to our young padawan it is, that able to defeat the Sith he was—" Master Yoda said, glancing toward where Obi-Wan sat.
The rough scrape of Obi-Wan's chair being pushed back interrupted Master Yoda's words, and everyone turned toward the sound. He stood, his eyes hidden by shadow. "Excuse me, your highness. Masters," He said, bowing. He turned and strode from the room.
Master Yoda and Master Windu exchanged pensive looks, but said nothing.
Sabe's eyebrows drew together. She didn't notice much more of the meeting. As soon as it was adjourned and she had waited the appropriate amount of time for no one to suspect her purpose, she crept quickly from her place.
The cobblestones she crept over were streaked with the oil of the assault tanks and with rust colored stains that might have been blood. Jagged shards of transparisteel glittered in the moonlight, and the rubble of a fallen structure nearly obstructed the path to the palace gardens.
After picking her way over the debris she felt a rush of both relief and dismay. The great stone fountain was badly damaged, the statue of an old Naboovian hero lying face down in the cloudy water. The paths were broken, shrubs and trees uprooted, and many of the precisely laid flowerbeds trampled.
But white roses still twined around the destruction, star flowers opened their nocturnal blooms to the sky, and blood tulips waved proudly in the brisk, rain-scented breeze from the west. Sabe looked around, her feelings churning. The flowers would bloom, the great falls of Theed would still spread lacy curtains of water over the rocks, and the constellations would still move overhead in their slow, ancient dance. Still, things would never return to exactly how they had been.
Suddenly she raised her head, the familiar, quiet presencealerting her. Around a curve in the path she saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure outlined against the night sky, just before the low wall overlooking the Verdugo Falls.
He sensed her, of course, but he said nothing as she joined him at the overlook. His eyes were fixed on the western horizon. She followed his gaze to the clouds boiling and building there with lightning snaking between them.
A powerful storm.
As it approached, peals of thunder made the ground rumble beneath their feet. She watched the slow progress of the rain column over the lake, finally reaching them and enveloping them in cold, stinging drops.
At last he turned his orphan's eyes to her. "Anakin?"
She smiled, folding her arms across the rough-hewn stone of the overlook wall. "With Padme."
Obi-Wan nodded, his face thoughtful and for once, unguarded.
"What…" Sabe hesitated, remembering the boy's face at the funeral. "What will happen to him?"
"I promised that I would train him," Obi-Wan said.
"The council will allow it?" Sabe asked in surprise.
Obi-Wan gripped the stone tightly with his hands, leaning heavily on the wall. "It does not matter. I promised."
It was needless to ask who he had promised.
A sharp crack of thunder made the ground shudder beneath them and the lightning made night into day for a split second. Sabe drew her cloak tightly around her. The storm seemed almost to penetrate her spirit, as did the turmoil that pulsed from Obi-Wan with every shuddering breath he took. Sabe thought she ought to know what to say or do, but she did not. Except—
"He loved you, Obi-Wan." Another loud rumble nearly drowned out her words, but from the tension in his hands upon the wall she knew he'd heard her. "Perhaps he was not supposed to, but he did."
His words were equally quiet. She moved closer to hear. "I know."
He straightened and swallowed,facing her. "I was not the only one he cared for."
Sabe hung her head.
"He spoke of you, years after you left. Wondered how you had fared."
Sabe exhaled shakily, hugging herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. She went still and looked up sharply as she felt the feather-light touch of his hand on her forehead, sliding the hood over her hair and away from her face. His hand lingered alongside her cheek. Smiling sadly, he traced her cheekbone with his thumb.
Anakin's voice rose above the others from the palace windows, catching their attention. Obi-Wan turned toward it rather guiltily. "I should go to him."
"No," Sabe said. "Let him remain where he is, a normal boy for one more night. And until morning, you can remain a padawan."
Obi-Wan turned back toward the Falls with lowered eyes.
"He's still speaking to us," Sabe thought she was offering reassurance until she heard herself adding, "Isn't he?"
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. "The Jedi believe that we relinquish our identities when we unite with the Force."
Sabe's shoulders slumped.
His arm slid around them, pulling her nearer. Surprised, she stood rigidly for a moment. Then she turned into the contact with a sigh. Raindrops fell from the spiky ends of his hair onto her face as he rested his chin against her forehead.
"Still," He whispered, his breath ghosting across her skin. "I feel as if he is very near to me now. Close enough to touch."
The stood that way for a long time, until the rain passed on and the thunder quieted.
A/N : Second scene I wrote planning this story. I never liked the fact that they cut straight from the funeral to the celebration that have just been invaded do not go back to normal in one day, darn it. Andnobody is stoic enough to get over a beloved mentor that quick. Anyway, hope you like. Read n' review :-)