Obi-wan's mood had not improved much by the time he was escorted into the camp, though he'd been treated overbearingly politely. The Rebels had recognized him, as they should, though he'd had a few tense moments with one particularly trigger-happy fellow before he had been officially declared 'safe'.
He'd met André before, albeit briefly, and had disliked him almost immediately, finding the other man to be boorish, rude and something of a megalomaniac. André had in turn found Obi-wan aloof and pretentious, and more than a little soft.
The rest of the band was alright, giving him the wide berth he deserved, being the Obi-wan, and the only Resistance member among the top officials (Terryal, for all the power he had, did not quite count. It was only Obi-wan that managed to be something of a spy, and be protected by the Emperor himself).
Katie had lapsed into a sort of permanent silence, curled up against her tree and ignoring the rest of the world. Partially it was supposed to be defiance, but most of it was just trying to keep from throwing up at that most lovely display of gratuitous violence. Hearing the commotion she had looked up, and drew the only possible conclusion.
Finally managing to tear himself away from the rather overly zealous Rebels attempting to search him, Obi-wan turned to look for the girl that had been such a cause célèbre… and sighed inside. It was obvious, from the deep-seated glare she was giving him, and the way she'd gasped that she thought he'd sold her out.
This was, of course, entirely correct. She simply didn't want to believe it, though it was so very impossible not to. How else had he gotten in so easily? How else would they know him by name? Why else would he be here, anyway? It's not like they were giving out free shiny stickers to the tenth visitor.
But, how it hurt to think so! As stuffy and overly honorable as she'd found him, Katie had never actively disliked him, and if he was involved, who was to say that Mel was not?
Obi-wan had already resigned himself to something fairly close to hell, but why did she have to make this any more complicated than it had to be?
André eyed him suspiciously, not enjoying having such a hotshot Jedi invading what was his domain. Obi-wan wasn't getting any of the credit for this, oh no. "So, what brings you down from the palace? Tired of the caviar and loose women?"
Obi-wan did not look amused, though it would take a great deal to do so in the circumstances. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?" André had never borne the brunt of a true Obi-wan lecture, and it was finally time. "You gain nothing from this! Nothing! Its just blood money! And since when has the Resistance sunk so low as to go after innocents? It's not her fault! She had nothing to do with this, and you've made her a pawn in the kind of game everyone loses." Each time André opened his mouth to make a comment; Obi-wan cut him off. "The Empire does that, going after loved ones. If we bring ourselves to their level, what do we win? Nothing!" he was in full-blown rant mode now. His voice never rose above the most civil sort of yell, but he managed to keep everyone's attention nonetheless.
"How much are they paying you?" André inquired, breaking the momentum of the rant.
Obi-wan recoiled, as though he'd been slapped. "What?"
"How much is the Empire paying you?" André repeated, straight-faced and deadly serious.
Obi-wan did not reply right away, grappling with the overwhelming desire to hit André very, very hard. "You have no idea what you're talking about. When was the last time you had to deal with anyone other than these backwater guerillas?" Taking a deep breath, he exhaled through his nose, trying to keep himself under control. This was just the icing on the cake for one shitty day, alright… "Have you ever met Lord Vader, André?" Taking the silence for the negative it was, Obi-wan continued in that vein. "I must coexist, on an hourly basis, with just the egotistical, authoritarian power-maniac that would love to be disemboweling you right now. I have to tread lightly with him, fulfill both my Imperial and Resistance duties, manage my padawan… and still have enough brain power left to look The Emperor in the eye and lie." As much as blowing up wasted precious time and energy, it made him feel so much the better to know that he could do it without throwing anyone against some walls (however much he'd like to make an exception of the arrogant André). "I'd like to see you try."
André was undaunted, as few are after one of the patented 'Obi-wan Rants'. "Why do you bother to hide? You live with him; you could end this all so very easily-"
"No I can not!" Obi-wan protested. "Sure, I might (might) be able to kill of Vader before someone offs me, but there's no guarantee. And even if I do? Well, he's replaceable and then the Resistance loses all contact. If you want the Empire to fall, the Emperor must go first."
"What do we have now? All you are is a potential liability. You were too closely involved-"
"Are you insinuating I'm protecting him?" Obi-wan exclaimed incredulously. "I don't care what they did to your sister, André, you need to calm down! No one wants this over more than I. But at least right now everything is stable. The Resistance has not been surprised once, and the evil we know is better than the evil we don't. Vader can be manipulated. In fact, you ruined our best chance at an advantage! There was the perfect opportunity to turn his padawan against him, but no! You have to abduct her. Think she'll ever help us now? He accused, pointing at Katie.
"Is that why you came? To belittle me? To steal my thunder?" André snapped, crossing his arms across his chest, obviously unhappy.
"No." Obi-wan replied, assuming a similar position. "I came for the girl."
André snorted. "You think I'm going to trust you with the most valuable hostage ever taken by the Resistance?"
"You were planning an exchange. I am working the exchange." Obi-wan reached into his voluminous layers, retrieving a bag that clinked. "I have you money," he revealed scornfully, still adhering to the outdated notion that a resistance should work for ideals and warm fuzzy feelings, not gold.
André cracked a grin. "What makes you think I wouldn't just take the money?"
The air some ten feet around Obi-wan pressurized threateningly. Obi-wan personally despised using The Force as a threat, but it had immense effect. "I'd like to see you try."
André skipped out of the sphere of influence, sneering. Looking Obi-wan in the eye, he continued on a note of the utmost importance. "But will you follow the plan?"
- - -
Cold steel pressed uncomfortably on the soft tissue of her inner wrists, and the ache of a spine held too straight pulled Mel back into consciousness. Carefully opening an eye, she found herself facing the proverbial blank wall. With a horrible, sinking feeling she turned the other way as slowly and unobtrusively as she could, dead certain that the hour (what hour? She wasn't exactly sure what had happened; everything after her comments a painful blur) was up, and that it meant something horrible.
The room was the usual hopeless industrial metal, harsh to the point of being medical. So the faintly blurry, stark green and black shapes that were Vader and Terryal stuck out sharply, and were undeniably there, and so could not be ignored. Squinting at the brooding figures, Mel was sure she remembered something…
The Hour! Suddenly it hit her, and Mel stifled a cry. Obviously, the hour was up and Vader had come to torture her some more. But, where was Obi-wan? How could he have left her here, left her to some unspeakable torment? He couldn't have left to go save Katie, and so save Mel, because he couldn't know where to go because Mel didn't and couldn't have told him. Then why had he left? It was simply inexcusable! He was Obi-wan, her Master, her friend… And he'd abandoned her to die.
Merely having to face the (righteous? Never) anger of Vader would have shaken her only on the inside, she would not have allowed him to see her afraid (or would have tried, that is) if only she hadn't been so alone… shivering, she tried not to let an encroaching sense of panic overwhelm her.
Tiring of merely glaring prettily at Terryal, Vader turned away and noticed Mel's new position and obvious wakefulness. It wasn't like Obi-wan was actually there, and it would serve him right for taking so long if Vader just went and starting torturing Mel anyway… It would certainly make him feel better.
Mel, trying to avoid his eyes, bit at her lip. She really was screwed, wasn't she? Hardheadedly (perhaps) she still couldn't say that she regretted what she'd said. She only regretted that it meant she was going to be in pain for quite some time…
As much as she had prepared herself for the like, she was still not entirely ready for the assault on her senses as he let her know he knew she was awake. There was an exquisite bolt of pain in the back of her neck, as though a rather sadistic someone was threading a white-hot length of razor wire between the bones of her spine and her skull, up into her brain. It was limited to an extremely small area, but the pain was already enough to nearly swamp what defenses she had. Amazingly it surpassed the pain she'd felt earlier by some tenfold, something she found difficult to believe.
Biting her lip until it bled, Mel clenched and unclenched hands above steel bands, trying desperately to keep her mind off of the drilling. Heedless of the blood dripping down her chin, she screwed her eyes closed. Master or no Master, he was not going to see her cry!