17
"Startled, Qui-Gon lost his focus for an instant. There was only one person to whom that lightsaber could belong. 'And where is your new apprentice?' Xanatos sneered."
Mali fidgeted like a nervous child about to be punished. His mind was still faraway and his eyes wandered to the spot where his coworkers were slain. They were a team. He may not have liked them all the time, but they were a team! Bervic may have been a little too zealous when renewing people, but he did his job. He had a gambling problem. He wasn't evil! Shirk may not have been winning a humanitarian award anytime soon, but he was a good Phindian. Mali's son Trada treated him like an uncle. What would Trada think? Oh hells, what would Trada think of him?
"Mali! Mali!" The human snapped. "I need you to stay focused."
Weutta killed them. Weutta killed his friends. They weren't evil! They were just doing a job so they could feed their families and themselves. If you weren't with the Syndicat you were crushed by it. Is it wrong to want a good life without fear? They were just regular Phindians. It's not fair!
"MALI! Where is the boy?" The human asked.
Mali looked at the tall sturdy man in front of him. Every molecule of him screamed 'dangerous' to Mali. This man just lost his son. Mali renewed this man's son and left him to die on a planet. He placed bets on how long the boy would survive. What if it had been Trada? Would he bet on his own son's life? The thought of Trada being renewed filled Mali with a sickening dread. If Mali and the human's roles had been reversed the human wouldn't be standing. Even if he was weaker he would have at least tried. The human did not do this.
Mali was terrified. The man was intense. He didn't seem angry—just intense. His eyes were boring into him and if Mali looked really close the man was barely trembling like he couldn't contain himself. His son… His son! The boy was probably dead. No one lasted this long. How long had it been? He couldn't remember at the moment…No one lasted that long, especially if the probot was destroyed. All signs pointed to the boy being dead. Mali couldn't tell the father… No, he couldn't do that!
"Mali, I just need a planet. That's all I need!" The human practically screamed.
Mali looked away and shuddered. He couldn't deal with this right now. The boy was dead. He had to see Trada. He had to see if he was all right.
"Stop Jedi-Gon!" A Phindian shouted and there was a scuffle.
Mali didn't move. It wasn't his fault. He was just doing a job. It was his job! He heard a slight hissing sound and Mali looked up from the ground. The first thing he saw was a beautiful blade of green light. It shimmered and Mali was transfixed on the shaft of light. The room was completely silent except for the slight humming of the light device. Mali then looked up at the human. His pale face was completely expressionless. His eyes were still staring at Mali with their fierce intensity. The glow from the green light reflected on the human's face and for a split second Mali caught sight of something that chilled him to his core. It was desperation.
The two stared at each other for an intimately long time. Mali was the first to break the gaze and looked back at his hands. He heard another hissing noise and looked up to see the green light disappear. He heard the other Phindians sigh. The human stalked off in a hurry and Mali listened to the rapidly retreating footsteps.
"Jedi-Gon!" A voice called after him.
One of the Phindians raced after him. Mali closed his eyes again and rested his head in his hands. The human must have understood. He must know that the boy was dead. He had seen the footage from the probot before it was destroyed. He had paid Bervic and Shirk for loosing the bet. The human must have understood! Weutta had ordered all 'incriminating evidence' destroyed. As far as the records on Phindar show the boy did not exist. That man's son had never existed.
"Wait, Jedi-Gon!" Guerra called.
Qui-Gon did not slow his pace nor acknowledge the Derida brother behind him. He did not know where he was going and he did not care. All he knew was that he had to be moving. He couldn't sit and wait like everyone was telling him to. Force! He had even told himself to wait and make sure the planet was stable. What was he thinking? Qui-Gon stopped in a dark room and leaned against a smooth wall. Guerra came jogging in the room and stopped as abruptly as Qui-Gon had. He bent over to catch his breath and Qui-Gon listened to the heavy breathing in silence.
"Jedi-Gon—"Guerra began but then stopped.
Qui-Gon came to full attention and tried to pierce the darkness of the room with his eyes. It was cold in the room and the Jedi Master felt nauseated for some unknown reason. He winced and looked at Guerra. The Phindian's orange eyes looked eerie in the gloom. Qui-Gon's hands blindly groped the wall for some sort of power switch for the lights. His attention was firmly on Guerra and did not waver. Guerra shivered and took a few steps forward.
Obi-Wan had mentioned Guerra had spent much time in the Bandomeer mines. Perhaps his sight in the dark was better than his own. Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, but felt no life signatures save his own and Guerra's. There was something ominous in the air. It whispered and flitted about the room like a shadow. The Jedi's other hand reflexively made its way towards his lightsaber. His fingers barely brushed Obi-Wan's unclaimed lightsaber and Qui-Gon immediately recoiled.
"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, hoping for some clarity.
Qui-Gon's fingers finally found some sort of switch and he flicked it up. Overhead lights hummed as they stutteringly came to life. Their sickly fluorescent glow flickered on and off. The Jedi and Phindian looked around the room until they spotted a copper heap in a corner. Qui-Gon felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through him and tried to still his body from shaking. The whispers turned to deafening shouts and they all screamed one name. Obi-Wan.
The Jedi Master ran towards the gleaming piece of copper. Guerra was right behind him. They stopped and bent down to get a better look. It was an innocuous looking droid with copper plating and wheels to help it move. It was offline. The pair knew immediately that it was the memory wipe droid. The Jedi Master looked with horror at this simple machine; this machine that had taken everything away from his padawan; this machine that looked like a normal droid… Qui-Gon reached out to touch it impulsively.
"Don't!" Guerra hissed, but Qui-Gon didn't listen.
The Jedi lightly grazed the droid with his fingers and closed his eyes.
He felt extremely sick and the white light wouldn't go away from his closed eyes. A rough voice broke through his world of pain and bright light.
"What is your name?" Someone asked.
Obi-wan knew. He knew! They hadn't taken his name. They failed. He won! Didn't he?
"Obi-Wan Kenobi. " Obi-wan said defiantly.
The guards looked at each other and shook their heads.
"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." Obi-wan said as loud as he could.
Qui-Gon jerked back in surprise and in horror. His whole body convulsed as if an electric current went through it and was hurled away from the droid. The Jedi Master didn't even try to get back up. He could vaguely hear Guerra calling his name, but Qui-Gon didn't respond. Obi-Wan had been here. This is where they destroyed his padawan.
"Jedi-Gon! Are you all right?" Guerra asked in a panic.
If the Jedi closed his eyes he could almost see Obi-Wan still strapped to that copper droid. Residual pain flared in his Master-padawan bond. The boy had been so afraid. Jedi were taught not to be afraid. It was one of the lessons Yoda imparted himself to each and every initiate. Obi-Wan had faced down evil and corruption without flinching. In front of this memory-wipe machine he had let the fear consume him.
'Your precious new padawan failed you even now.'
Qui-Gon shut out the inner voice. Obi-Wan did not fail him. There wasn't enough time… The boy had a right to be afraid. On the pier on Bandomeer his apprentice showed no signs of fear. Obi-Wan was destined to be a Jedi.
'You said the same of Xanatos.'
Qui-Gon tried to move, but his limbs were strangely unresponsive.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered.
"Jedi-Gon! I think the droid was rigged." Guerra said.
Qui-Gon half listened and concentrated on the image of his padawan being renewed. He had fought like a Jedi. He believed he had defeated the memory wipe droid. What happened? Obi-Wan was gifted in the Force and very strong willed. He had so much promise…
"…When you touched it. Yes so. It short-circuited." Guerra said.
Short circuited? That would make sense. It would explain the partial paralysis and the huge shock he received. Qui-Gon groaned as he tried to get back up. Guerra helped him with up with his long powerful arms. The two looked at the droid again. It looked pathetic. How could something so pathetic destroy so many people's lives?
"Get Mali in here, now." Qui-Gon ordered emotionlessly.
Guerra left without question or protest. Qui-Gon glared at the droid. There was no question that it had to be destroyed—dismembered for all to see. There might be a way to reverse the renewing process and if there was Qui-Gon couldn't pass up the opportunity to find out.
The group of Phindians walked into the room a moment later. Mali still had that dazed expression as his feet plodded along. Qui-Gon didn't need to look back at them to know this. He heard the slight scuffling of Mali and the calculated steps of the others. The Jedi Master was still dazed a little from the shock of the droid and seeing the vision of Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon stood up when the others were within feet of him. The two brothers exchanged a look and the other Phindians looked a little anxious. Mali had his gaze firmly planted on the floor.
"Mali, look up." Qui-Gon commanded.
The Phindian slowly looked up from the ground to Qui-Gon's fiercely stoic face. His gaze then darted to the droid in the corner. His dazed expression transformed into a look of fear. He tried to back up but the other Phindians held him in place.
"Is there any way to reverse the renewing process?" Qui-Gon asked crisply.
Mali shook his head and tried to look away again. Qui-Gon's heart fluttered a bit. It couldn't just be as final as that head shake. This was Obi-Wan! There still had to be some sort of chance for his padawan.
"Why not?" Guerra asked.
"You can't just take something like memories and give them back just as easily. The shear amount of data that resides in one mind is too much to store. We don't even bother trying to save it. We wipe them clean and that's it."
Anger rose darkly in Qui-Gon and he stifled the urge to hit Mali. Qui-Gon took a few cleansing breaths and forced himself to realize that he was not angry at the Phindian. It was not his fault that Obi-Wan was lost.
"Why would you design something and have no way to reverse the process?" The Jedi asked.
"I didn't design it!" Mali practically screamed in desperation. "I was just doing my job! I don't know how it works or why anyone would want to get it to work. I just do what I'm told!"
"Where would the galaxy be if everyone lied down and 'did what they're told'? We'd still be under the Syndicat, watching them as they destroy everything that is good about this planet." Paxxi said in an unexpected fit of anger and eloquence.
"We do things because they are the right thing to do." Guerra finished.
Qui-Gon smiled ironically. This was a strange lecture on right and wrong coming from two thieves. How had they changed so much? When Obi-Wan had first described Guerra Qui-Gon had been reluctant to see any redeeming qualities in him. His padawan had shown a keen insight into the living force or it was a lucky guess.
"Turn it on," Qui-Gon said.
"What?" Guerra and Paxxi asked together.
"I can't!" Mali said.
Qui-Gon folded his arms and looked as intimidating as possible. Mali shrunk under the Jedi's scrutiny, but made no move to turn the droid on.
"Do it." Qui-Gon said darkly.
"It's broken!" Mali shrieked. "Weutta ordered us to destroy it!"
"Now." Qui-Gon said dangerously.
Mali went up to the droid and activated a switch. A strange whirring sound began and Qui-Gon could smell burning wires. Mali removed his hand as an electric current went all around the droid. The group took a reflexive step back. The whirring progressed into a high pitched whining and the smell of burning became stronger. The group shielded themselves as a small explosion rocked the room. The group reopened their eyes and looked at the charred body of the memory-wipe droid. Silence descended upon the room. Smoke rose in a misty spiral from the blackened body.
"We overloaded it so if anyone tried to access the droid it would self-destruct." Mali said in an abnormally calm way.
Qui-Gon clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Mali did not look afraid anymore. The Jedi could not decide if this was a good or bad thing.
"It can't help you anyway," Mali said. "Renewal can't be reversed."
"Have you even tried?" Paxxi asked while narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, it's been attempted before. I told you, it doesn't work!" Mali shot back.
Qui-Gon looked away and rubbed his temples. Mali was getting angry—definitely not a good thing. He needed to appeal to Mali's compassion. It was difficult. This Phindian had renewed Obi-Wan and would not tell him where he was sent. The galaxy was immense and easy to get lost in.
The Phindians were arguing and Qui-Gon was developing a severe headache. Phindar didn't need anymore arguments right now and neither did he. The Jedi pondered whether he should use the Force to find out where they sent Obi-Wan. No, the living Force was telling him to use other means. There was no doubt Qui-Gon would be able to get the information he needed, but it wasn't the right thing to do. His ethics prevented him from doing so.
"Stop." Qui-Gon commanded.
The group silenced immediately. Paxxi and Guerra were glaring unequivocally at Mali who was twitching slightly and his face was a mask. The Jedi Master found himself exhausted. What was another day anyway? Either the boy was dead by now or had found a way to survive. Qui-Gon hoped for the latter.
"Go home Mali," The Jedi Master said sadly. "Go back to your family."
"But Jedi-Gon!" Paxxi and Guerra exclaimed.
Qui-Gon silenced them with a wave of his hand. They gave him a strange look, but did as he asked. Mali's mask broke a bit and for a brief second Qui-Gon saw the guilt he knew was there. They had backed him into a corner and he fought back. The group left a path open for Mali and Mali began to walk away. As he passed Qui-Gon the Jedi Master put a hand on his shoulder. Mali stopped and looked into the Jedi's eyes.
"I just want to find him," Qui-Gon said.
Mali looked away.
"He's gone," The Phindian said and left.
The group watched him go and Qui-Gon felt a strange feeling in the back of his throat. Mali wasn't going to tell him. His padawan was gone. Even if he found the boy it would only be a shell or a body. He didn't think he could deal with either.
"Why are you letting him go Jedi-Gon?" Guerra asked with incredulity.
"He'll come around." Qui-Gon said. "He's not going to go anywhere."
"Obawan is still alive Jedi-Gon. We know this." Paxxi affirmed.
Qui-Gon rested his hand on Obi-Wan's lightsaber. Would he ever give the symbolic weapon back to whom it belonged? Only a Jedi could wield one. What if Obi-Wan could never relearn the ways of the Force? What if he was corrupted by the Dark side without even knowing it? That all depended on if Obi-Wan was even alive…
"I know he is," Qui-Gon lied.
"What are the polls saying?" Beju asked into his comlink.
"It seems you are more popular off world than on my prince." The voice answered back.
"What is the opposition saying?"
"They're spinning it as you do more for other worlds than his majesty's own."
"Do we have a response?"
Beju began to pace around in his room with his comlink in hand. It had been a long day and now that it was dark he was finally resting. He was sore and dirty but he needed to be linked with the outside world. His campaign wasn't going to run itself.
"We are working diligently on one now my prince."
"Tell them a stable Phindar will contribute to the overall stability of the system and thus help Gala. Besides, this Syndicat was using Phindar as a stepping stone to take control of our planet."
"Brilliant as always my prince."
"Contact me later with the new poll results and if they catch the bastard that took my ship!"
"As you command."
Beju put away his comlink and heaved a big sigh. He was sore all over his body and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. Blaster wounds were tricky. Beju found a dirty mirror on the wall and tried to examine the wound. This was the price he paid. He rubbed his temples and wished he was back at the palace in Galu. Anything seemed better than this. The things he had to do just to get a few votes… It was beginning to wear on him. It was the reason he came to Phindar and tried to make a deal with Baftu in the first place. It should be his by right! If he won, was this how it was always going to be? No, he was going to reestablish the monarchy. There would be no democracy to deal with.
Beju had a bad feeling about the election in general and he was nervous about ruling a planet. The one person he could ask about it was the only person he didn't want to ask. Why had his mother done this? How could she doubt her son so much as to deny him the throne? Beju turned away from the mirror angrily, but regretted it as a lance of pain went up his shoulder. She was dying. Every day she got weaker and weaker and now she would leave her only son with nothing—No throne, no family, nothing.
"How is your shoulder?" A soft voice asked from behind.
Beju turned around to see Qui-Gon Jinn observing him from the doorway. The Galacian prince gently touched his injury and winced.
"A little sore," Beju admitted.
The Jedi Master chuckled slightly and motioned for the prince to sit down.
"I got you a little Bacta," Qui-Gon said.
Prince Beju laughed and then stopped and held his shoulder. He shook his head and smiled at the Jedi Master.
"When I came here to get the Bacta I never thought I'd need it myself." He admitted.
"And when I was on my way to Gala I never thought I'd be sidetracked here." Qui-Gon said with a slight smile.
"You are the Jedi that my mother sent for?" The prince asked skeptically. "She said there were two coming. Where is the other one?"
Qui-Gon's breathing hitched slightly and the thickness in his throat came back.
"Have you heard about renewing?" Qui-Gon asked silently.
"Yes, it's terrible. I would have never tried to make a deal with the Syndicat if I knew about that." Beju said with a grimace.
"My apprentice was renewed." Qui-Gon said.
"Oh…"
Beju was silent for a long time and looked away from the powerful man. The sounds of the night came into the room and filled the silence.
"I'm sorry," Beju said sincerely.
Qui-Gon was again impressed at the transformation that he was seeing in the young prince. The prince was not pretending to care. Beju was completely different than Obi-Wan, but he kept seeing his padawan in place of the prince. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.
"It's not your fault," Qui-Gon said.
"Is there something I can do?" The prince asked earnestly.
"Not yet," Qui-Gon answered with a sigh.
A/N: Okay okay okay. This chapter is pretty pointless… Wow. Nothing happened. Sorry for making you wait so long for nothing! I'll try to get the next one up ASAP. There's no excuse for not writing… Except maybe the ADD version of writer's block. Feel free to shoot me at any time!