Chapter Seventeen
Obi Wan left the Chancellor feeling off balance and slightly cloudy, causing him to repeatedly stop and rub his eyes roughly in an attempt to refocus. He'd politely (he hoped) refused the offer of a place to stay the night, but he could swear there was a flash of annoyance in Palpatine's eyes as he'd left. He'd almost agreed then, not wanting to offend the man, but when he shook off the moment of doubt, he'd wanted to leave more than before – to find some distance and clear his head. It was likely just a result of slightly too much to drink, but he swore something in the Force had agreed it was time to leave.
Chancellor Palpatine had made valid, convincing points in all of their discussions – as he'd noted before, his point of view on subjects was always strong and rational. The longer they talked on something the more convincing the man became.
Yet…
There was almost something cold and righteous bleeding through all of those logical arguments. Something more than just the word spinning of a politician. Something Obi Wan felt himself start to agree with, to understand before his own morals would struggle back to the surface.
Maybe Palpatine was right about the street kid who'd had his hand taken by Obi Wan (his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the memory), maybe it really would be a turning point and the boy would never attack anyone like that again; he might even turn his life around and live in a different, better way after that confrontation.
Still…
That didn't make what Obi Wan did right. And explaining it away with such logic seemed wrong to him. More like excuses for bad behavior than logical rationalization. It seemed like it would open the door for other unsavory actions to be easily explained away.
Buffy wouldn't turn a blind eye to such an action if she'd been the one to do it.
Neither would Qui Gon.
And as nice as the Chancellor had been and as much as Obi Wan knew he'd be a powerful ally to have, his conscience and the Force were telling him his principles were not a mirror of Obi Wan's own.
That still left Obi Wan in a difficult position though. He needed to make a decision, and soon. If he didn't take the Chancellor up on his offer, he could either join Buffy and the Sith on their foolhardy mission or he could go to the Council for guidance.
"Obi Wan?"
Startled from his thoughts, he looked up to find himself in a familiar place – in front of the Jedi Temple yet again. The sight of his former Master descending the steps to meet him with a smile caused a twist of apprehension in his stomach and he found himself flinching away from the hand reaching toward his shoulder in greeting as his strongest shields slammed into place.
Qui Gon's smile slipped and he froze with his hand outstretched. "Obi Wan?"
The appropriate words and easy smile were there, waiting to be released but they wouldn't come out. He didn't want his former master to know how he was struggling; how lost he'd become so quickly; what he'd done. But at the same time, he did want him to know. He wanted the guidance, the friendship, the security that being Qui Gon's apprentice had offered. That wasn't fair. He'd turned away from that. And now at the first sign of hardship-
"My apologies, I've just come from dinner with the Chancellor and I think I may have had a bit too much Corallian Brandy," he said, the words sounding far away and false to his own ears.
The deflection must've been obvious because Qui Gon's face turned hard in a way that he'd rarely seen it - a flash of true anger, quickly released into the Force but Obi Wan knew what he'd seen. He dropped his eyes in shame.
After the silence had gone on for an uncomfortable amount of time, Obi Wan risked a look at his former master only to find him watching him with an intensity that make him take a physical step back.
Swallowing hard, he forced a small smile on his face. "I should go. It was nice seeing you, Mas- Qui Gon."
He turned quickly, not wanting to know what Qui Gon was seeing with that penetrating look. Was he seeing the doubt? The uncertainty? The guilt? The mistakes? Was he thinking of how much of his time he'd wasted on him?
"Obi Wan!"
Swallowing hard, he paused his steps and looked back to see Qui Gon with a conflicted look on his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in an uncharacteristic display, as if he couldn't find the words he was looking for.
"Let's have dinner? Tomorrow? I have to be better company than the Chancellor, right?"
There was something tight and false about the words that set Obi Wan on edge. Was this some kind of pity invitation? Even though he had no interest in that, he gave a small nod.
"I'd like that," he found the lie easily. "Have a good evening."
Turning away once again, he missed the tortured look on Qui Gon's face as he walked away.
"This is insane!"
The tiny whispered voice echoed Bal's thoughts exactly, but he forced a nonchalant shrug.
"Trust me, kid, I've done more insane things than this."
"More insane than letting a monster on your ship?" Alec's voice squeaked.
No.
"Sure!"
"Well, you're crazy. But what about Buffy? That guy- "
Alec's voice faltered and Bal found himself squeezing the steering column a little too hard. He released it with a small frown and flexed his fingers before dropping the hand on Alec's small head.
"I know, kid, I don't like it either. But he didn't kill your mom," he said, the words sounding hollow to his own ears. "He was just- "
Alec swiped Bal's hand off and skulked off to whatever hidey hole he was using to steer clear of Buffy and her guest. Somewhere on the other end of the ship, most likely, since the kid was both terrified of the red and black bastard and because he knew Buffy well enough to know she had a freakish ability to know when she was being watched.
He'd wanted to reassure the kid, but the truth was he was just as skeptical of Buffy's new plan and partner. A dark chuckle surfaced as he realized he missed her hanging out with the Jedi brat. After carting her around the 'verse chasing the Black Sun and the bastard currently in his hold you'd think he would be immune to being surprised by Buffy's ridiculous plots, but… stealing slaves from the Hutts? What was she thinking? What the hell was he thinking helping her?
I can watch her back and can get her out of there alive, his traitorous self-preservation-less side whispered. It had been getting louder since he'd met her much to his annoyance. The truth was this had the opportunity to be a clusterfuck of massive proportions and he didn't trust anyone else to get her scrawny ass out of there alive. He also knew if he refused to do it, she could and would find someone else to take them (and someone else would get that load of credits the bastard had paid). She was like a fucking force of nature when she set her addled little mind to something.
So, here he was with the Slayer and a murderous Jedi freak waiting to wage war on the Hutts while Alec skulked around behind the walls like a spider-roach, pouting and plotting tiny revenge.
Yeah, sure, no way this could turn out badly…
Buffy shifted against the wall she was leaning against, trying to focus on what they were about to do instead of Obi's look of betrayal. It ate at her though, poking into her concentration like a fishhook and refusing to let go.
Was he right? Was there no reforming Maul? Was she being naïve and setting herself up for betrayal? Putting the lives of the slaves in danger by bringing him? Putting Bal in danger?
She snuck a look at the subject of her thoughts, only to find him staring right back at her.
"You don't trust me. You think I'll betray you."
She squirmed a little under his stare and shrugged. "Like you trust me."
"I do," he said immediately without so much as a blink.
"Well, thanks for making me look bad," she huffed.
"Only because I know that your morals won't allow you to betray me," he said after a beat.
She gave him a dark look. "Maybe not. But if start that ball rolling…"
"So noted," he said with a little head bow and the slightest quirk of the lips that Buffy could almost say she imagined.
"Why are you really doing this?"
He stared at her so long she thought maybe he wasn't going to answer at all. Then he closed his eyes and leaned fully against the wall, looking like he'd decided it was a good time to take a nap instead of playing twenty questions.
"Because I don't know what else to do," was finally given.
Buffy stared at his still, menacing figure for another moment before nodding and closing her own eyes.
If anyone could understand that logic, it was her.
Alec snuggled down in the small space he'd found behind a wall in the engine room, the huge overcoat of Bal's he'd stol- uhh, borrowed making a nice little nest. Maybe some would think it was too small and too noisy, but Alec liked it. Wide open spaces were easier to be seen in, and the quiet… he didn't like the quiet. The constant vibration and low whine of the ship's guts helped him sleep through the night.
But he couldn't sleep now, not with that thing on the ship. Bal could say that the bad red man hadn't killed mom all the times he wanted and it wouldn't make it true. He'd been there, he'd seen the door blow off and seen that dark shadow with the yellow eyes on the other side. Maybe… maybe it hadn't actually been him that hurt her – everything was really jumbled after that and all that was really clear to him was the blood and being scared like he'd never been scared before.
He clenched his eyes shut and bit back a whine. He didn't want to think about that. It didn't matter anyway, it was still that man's fault. If he hadn't broken down the door-
And if I hadn't run away.
Alec's eyes snapped open and his breath stuttered. He didn't like thinking about what happened to mom, but he really didn't like thinking about how he'd just left her there. Had she been dead when he ran? If he'd stayed, could he have helped her? Or anybody else?
Was… was he as bad as the red man?
If Bal was right and he just let the other bad men in… and he didn't help… Alec hadn't let them in but he hadn't helped either.
The sound of a small boy hyperventilating was lost among the rumble of the ship. As was the smell of blood, not enough to override that of the engine grease and ozone, when his nails dug small crescents into his palms when he found his determination over his despair.
Never again, he thought with the image of the blond woman on the other end of the ship in mind. I'll keep her safe. No more running away.
"Tell him we cannot."
Yoda's voice was firm, but Qui Gon could definitely tell he was disturbed by this newest turn of events.
"We can't just- "
Words failed him and he threw his arms up and proceeded to stalk around Mace's quarters like he was a caged beast – decorum lost in his frustration.
"I don't like it any more than you do, but Yoda's right," Mace sighed, rubbing his hand down his face roughly. "If Palpatine is indeed a Sith Lord, then Obi Wan does not have the training to hide the fact he, and in turn we, know that."
"His shieling is excellent," Qui Gon defended.
"Excellent, it is," Yoda agreed, but he was also shaking his head. "But if sudden shields he puts up where none were before, know the Sith will anyway."
Qui Gon stopped his pacing, knowing Yoda was right, but feeling worse for it.
"He's already left the Order. If he continues to share time with Chancellor Palpatine… I can't watch- Not again."
His voice was so soft by the end he wasn't sure either of the other two heard him. He startled when a small hand touched his own.
"Like Xantos, Obi Wan is not," Yoda said, looking up at him with old, wise eyes. "Not so easily swayed to the Dark will he be. Have faith, you must."
After a beat, Qui Gon nodded. Yoda was right – Obi Wan was nothing like Xantos. But given enough time, the Sith could burrow under those ideals and unseat them.
They'd just have to be faster.
"Right. Well, I think this changes our timeline," Mace said. "Let's start working on a plan to bring down this Sith bastard."
