FATHERLESS
by ardavenport
- - - - - PART 2
For the remainder of the trip Obi-Wan and his cousin, Zeri, talked about nothing but Kenobis. Obi-Wan had a flash of satisfaction from his Master's silent annoyance about being stuck in the cramped space behind them listening to it all. Obi-Wan happily ignored it, and it subsided into a stoic, meditative acceptance.
Though they were scattered all over the planet, no one in the family had emigrated off-world for at least ten generations, but there were a few loners and miscreants that Zeri wasn't sure of. Most of them got along fine, though some of them were much less social than others. Zuroyo Kenobi's family were notorious for shunning most family gatherings and only showing up for funerals. So, there had been quite a lot of jokes about how they all had to come to Zuroyo's send-off, since that was the only time the got to see him anyway. One cousin had suggested that they have his corpse re-animated so it could leave and then it wouldn't be a funeral any more. Zeri also admitted that for years Obi-Wan had been spoken of as the mysterious 'lost' Kenobi and that the glamor of that status had been somewhat spoilt by him actually showing up in person.
Obi-Wan laughed at that, but privately he knew that no one would feel slighted if he did not stay in contact with any of them after this. He would simply be maintaining his father's family tradition. He liked them. He enjoyed the moment of hearing about their lives from his cousin. But having a family seemed so . . . . complicated. No attachments: that was the Jedi way. And he felt himself strongly to be more part of the Jedi than to this family from Stewjon.
Their amiable chat had been disturbed only once when Zeri had asked Qui-Gon something and got no answer.
"Is there something wrong with him?" Zeri nervously asked when he realized that Qui-Gon was just sitting there, his dark blue eyes staring into space. Obi-Wan, knowing that his Master was perfectly aware of everything around him and everything that was said, assure his cousin that there was no problem.
"Oh, no. He just does that sometimes. He'll be fine." Obi-Wan supposed that some of the mystery of 'the lost one' could be re-established after he was gone.
By the time they reached their destination, Obi-Wan knew all the names, professions, relations, hobbies and residences of most of the Kenobi clan. Zeri piloted the flyer down onto a large private landing area next to a towering cliff-side fortress; the capital city covered much of the valley below. A line of polished dark-gray service and sentry droids waited. Zeri popped the canopy and then looked surprised by how spry his passengers seemed after the long trip sitting in one place, especially Qui-Gon. While Sheriff Kenobi worked the kinks out of his still joints, the Force flowed invisibly through the Jedi.
The line of sentries parted while the service droids moved in on the ship. The man from the holo-projector stepped forward, a gleaming black protocol droid attentively behind him. He bowed and they responded, Zeri a little clumsily. Secretary Toibi's business suit looked a little more rumpled than before and it was a vivid red and blue, a detail that had been washed out in the holo-transmission.
"Thank-you for coming, Master Jedi," Secretary Toibi greeted them, "we have left everything as it was for your examination."
"Thank-you, Secretary Toibi." Qui-Gon folded his arms. "But the Jedi's only interest in this is the missing lightsaber. The investigation into the death remains a local affair."
Toibi grimaced some displeasure but said nothing about Qui-Gon's aloofness. He turned to Zeri Kenobi. "Sheriff Kenobi, thank you for your assistance, our droids will have your ship ready to depart almost immediately." The dismissal was plain.
Obi-Wan read obvious disappointment in his cousin's expression. He was just a minor functionary who had no business with more important planetary crises. Just transport for the Jedi. He extended a hand and Obi-Wan clasped it in both of his in the local custom.
"We're all glad you came. There is a more private gathering at my father's apartments tonight. Do you think you'll be back?"
With a glance up at his Master's impassive face, Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't think so."
Clearly expecting him to decline, Kenobi shrugged. "That's fine. But we'll all be talking about you."
Let the mystery begin again. Obi-Wan grinned back. "Just don't forget my father while you're at it. Even if he doesn't show up."
Zeri laughed. Their hands parted and without a backward glance, he walked back to his flyer and he didn't look back. Obi-Wan rejoined his Master. While Secretary Toibi spoke, they walked toward the entry arch into the fortress, Obi-Wan a pace behind Qui-Gon.
The fortress was the private estate of Yarm Ot-Koff a leader of several major interplanetary industries and exports. He had been reclusive, but not abnormally so for a man of power. He had also been a well known rare weapons collector.
Collecting was a habit that Obi-Wan did not understand. He could see why people would want a home and possessions for comfort, but to purposefully acquire things just for the sake of having them make no sense at all. He surveyed the dark, opulent and imposing interior of the fortress, the mirror-polished black floors, the walls hung with plaques, pictures, tapestries and weapons. It seemed to him that the collector inevitable became possessed themselves by their collections.
They entered a lift and ascended into the private family section of the residence while Toibi continued his narrative. Nothing was known about the lightsaber itself other than that it was functional. They had been unable to obtain any information about Ot-Koff procurer and his private secretary droid was threatening to self-destruct out of loyalty for its master if they tried a memory download. The rest of the family was still uncooperative and the planetary constabulary was impatiently waiting at the scene for the Jedi to arrive.
The lift doors opened and the constabulary met them. Toibi introduced Inspector Aaah-zhiss, a stout Binothian female with white body fur, protruding snout and expressive, critical blue eyes. Her long ears were held tensely back on her skull in irritation. She wore only a minimal drape over her short-legged body with an iridescent badge of her authority pinned near the collar. Her assistant, Lieutenant Fifi, was a young Twi'Lek female with pale white skin tone. Her dark brown uniform closely conformed to her curving body and covered her everywhere except her bare middle.
"Thank-you for honoring us with your presence, Master Jedi." From her tone, Inspector Aaah-zhiss did not sound honored at all. "Though I seriously question the Minister's desire for secrecy in this matter. I daresay the whole planet is going to know of this soon enough anyway."
Sub-Minister Lallot was a large older woman with broad shoulders and black hair with blue highlights. A tailored, maroon soft-cloth suit covered her enormous body. Her small pink mouth puckered at the Inspector in distaste. Secretary Toibi took his place behind her.
"Inspector, out of respect for the family, I'm sure you can understand the need to handle this properly and discreetly."
"Oh, yes, the galaxy knows this planet will collapse into a singularity if we dare utter any word about the stupidity of any of our so-called leaders. Stupidity being so easily upgraded to a scandal."
Obi-Wan sensed that the Inspector's sarcasm was aimed more at the rich and powerful and not so much toward Yarm Ot-Koff in particular. They were escorted down a hall to the victim's private 'showroom'. That entire level of the residence was reserved for Ot-Koff's private use.
The scene of the crime was quite gruesome. In the middle of a large central space sprawled the victim. When the pink covering was pulled away, it revealed Ot-Koff's face, contorted with rage and horror. He had died in excruciating pain and not quickly. A charred circle marred the brocade fabric of his suit in the center of his abdomen, a matching black circle at his lower back where the blade had exited. From the circle the charring drew a wide wobbly line downward to the hip and then inward, severing the left leg entirely. It lay on the plush patterned carpeting. The pool of blood that oozed from the large arteries that had not been completely cauterized had dried. The air still smelled of burnt flesh, gore and fabric. But the body was further marked by an upward cut that must have completely obliterated the man's groin and ended in a gash to the right of the center charring.
The saber lay on the carpet by the man's right foot and the discarded pink sheeting. Qui-Gon bent to pick it up.
"Oh, no, Sir! This is a crime scene!"
Lieutenant Fifi rushed forward, her slender arms pulling back the frantic police droid. It was a dull gray analysis unit with extra arms for taking samples and scanning, not carrying weapons.
"Let him examine it, Cee-Tu!" Inspector Aaah-zhiss commanded, her voice loud and abrasive. "He's here on my authority."
The droid froze in Lieutenant Fifi's grasp before giving up and stepping back, it's cylindrical head spun back and forth fretfully. "Acknowledged. But really, Inspector, I don't know how we get anything done with all these irregularities." The machine pronounced the last word a distaste that most droids used for speaking about memory wipes and rust.
Aaah-zhiss nodded and Qui-Gon picked up the fallen lightsaber. He held it so Obi-Wan could see as well. It was old, with many scratches and scraped, rounded edges. The grip was solid black, heat-resistant plastoid. The pommel faded gold, the body silver, the emitter dented gold and silver, the room light dully reflecting from its damaged surfaces. It had been well used.
Qui-Gon held it out and Obi-Wan stepped back.
The blade hissed alive. Zzzzzhhh-ttt-sssss-ssssss-ssssss-sssss!
It was fiery green, similar to Qui-Gon's own saber.
Everyone else jumped back, the Minister and police analysis droid with inarticulate sounds of objection. Qui-Gon ignored them as if he were alone with Obi-Wan.
He tested the blade. Up, down. Side to side. He flicked it around at his side and around and up, the length of it centered with his body.
The motion looked good to Obi-Wan. And he sensed that it felt sound to his Master.
The lightsaber blade suddenly whirled, alternating to either side. The people and droid fearfully backed up even further. Qui-Gon lunged forward, sweeping the air, green blade flashing. He leaped back, tossing the lightsaber straight up. Spinning lazily upward, the blade's tip swept just short of the vaulted ceiling before it reached its apex and began falling.
Standing straight, Qui-Gon extended his right arm and caught it without looking, blade pointed straight up. He brought it before him again and clicked it off. Pursing his lips, he shrugged.
"Ot-Koff did not kill himself," he pronounced. "Someone else was holding the hilt when it activated."
"What?" Ears up, Inspector Aaah-zhiss advanced, the top of her furry head barely came up to Qui-Gon's chest, but she was just as broad.
"He could not have done this to himself," Qui-Gon stated calmly as if this was obvious. It certainly was to Obi-Wan, but he waited for his Master to explain.
"He was murdered?" Sub Minister Lallot exclaimed.
"I cannot say if it was actually murder. This is certainly not the work of an experience killer. This could just as easily have been an act of carelessness and panic. Or passion."
"Who did it?" the Inspector demanded with a snarl curling her lips back from her fangs. Qui-Gon remained calm.
"I cannot say. I was not here when it happened."
"But you Jedi have mind powers. You can see things. But you can't see who did this? A killer who used one of your own weapons?" Aaah-zhiss demanded.
"I suppose I could meditate on it. But images in the Force are a very indirect means of investigation, Inspector." He pointed toward Cee-Tu with the old lightsaber. "Your droid could more quickly extract far more believable and actionable evidence than anything I can tell you."
Cee-Tu excitedly came to them.
"Of course I thoroughly examined the entire scene upon our arrival. I have one-hundred and seventeen independent methods of extracting and recording data under all - - -"
"Yes, Cee-Tu!" The Inspector cut his droid off. "I'm sure that the Jedi do not need a detailed list of all of your superior techniques and programming. Master Jedi, Ot-Koff received this lightsaber only today and he showed it off immediately. Every member of the family has touched it. And all of them have motive to wish their patriarch dead. Now if you can't tell me who it is, I will have to begin tearing this place apart to find our how one or more of them managed to escape from here, locking this place from the inside, as they went. Are you sure he didn't do this to himself by accident?"
"Perfectly. I can demonstrate."
"How?"
"Hold out your hand please."
Inspector Aaah-Zhiss complied. Qui-Gon placed the lightsaber in the pad of her furry paw and ignited it. All the hair on the Inspector's body fluffed up in alarm, the deadly green blade pointing straight outward. Qui-Gon let go of her hand and stepped back. Obi-Wan winced at the graphic demonstration.
"Now drop it."
Aaah-Zhiss's eyes narrowed at Qui-Gon and she bared one fang. She let go of the saber.
As soon as it left her hand the blade extinguished and the hilt harmlessly fell down to the carpet with a muffled thump. Qui-Gon bent to pick it up again.
"If he had impaled himself with an accidental ignition, he would still have needed to exert some effort to move the blade through a solid object." Hand on the grip, he cradled the saber, the murder weapon, with his other hand for the Inspector. "He would have been in too much shock and simply fallen and let go. Unless he was completely suicidal and insensitive to pain, he would not have inflicted this much damage on himself."
Eyes on the weapon, the Inspector growled.
"But it stayed on!" Eyes wide, Lieutenant Fifi pointed up at the ceiling. "You just threw it up there just now. And it stayed on."
"That," Qui-Gon told her, "Is a Jedi skill. One which I seriously doubt that either Ot-Koff or any of his family possess. And this butchery," Qui-Gon looked down at the dismembered body disdainfully, "is not the work of Jedi skill, either."
Obi-Wan was proficient with a thrown lightsaber, but nowhere near Qui-Gon's level. A person not sensitive to the Force could never defeat the automatic deactivation as soon as they let go of the hilt.
The Inspector paced around the body thoughtfully. Her eyes narrowed on the saber in Qui-Gon's hand and then back to the victim.
Sub-Prime Minister Lallot stepped forward, the folds of her soft suit waving and rustling with the movement of her huge bulk. "Inspector, we can't - - -"
Aaah-Zhiss snapped a snarl at her. She squeaked in surprise.
"Minister! If this is murder then minimizing any scandal is not an option!" The Inspector huffed. "But I think we can agree on the need to uncover the murderer as quickly as possible." She paced some more, all around the body until she ended up at Qui-Gon. She appraised him up and down.
"You said you could do something at least to find out who did this."
"I can meditation on it. But the Force may or may not aid you in your quest."
She fingered the edge of her body drape. "So, what do you do?"
"Do?"
"Yes," she waved her hands before her, "what do you actually do when you meditate with this Force thing?"
"I sit in a quiet place, clear my mind and think about it," Qui-Gon answered bluntly down to her.
She curled her lip in thought, her eyes half lidded, her ears twitching. "Could you do it here?"
Qui-Gon looked around. There were plenty of cushioned chairs. "Yes."
"Then do it."
"Now?" Qui-Gon tilted his head.
"Yes, now," she hissed back, annoyed. And," she grabbed Qui-Gon's arm and positioned him facing the victim, "do it here."
Qui-Gon sighed, looked around and picked out a backless chair with a wide blue cushion. He brought it back to where Aaah-zhiss had indicated.
"Wait."
Qui-Gon looked up.
The Inspector waved a paw at him. "Further back."
Qui-Gon picked the chair up and moved it back. There were two full suits of Madaloran armor on either side of him. He gave them an annoyed glance before sitting down, pulling his legs up and sat with them crossed on the cushion.
"That's good," Aaah-Zhiss approved. "Now, try to look . . . . mysterious."
Qui-Gon pushed his long hair back behind his shoulders and put the hood of his robe up. He laid his arms on the chair rests. The old lightsaber, the murder weapon, rested on the edge of the chair in front of him.
"Perfect. You," she jabbed a paw finger at Obi-Wan. He started. This was the first time anyone in the room had acknowledged that he was even there. "Stand next to him and look . . . . attentive." He put the hood of his own robe up and folded his arms before him. She nodded approval before turning to a smirking Lieutenant Fifi.
"Master, what is she doing?" Obi-Wan asked quietly without moving from his place.
"I believe that the Inspector thinks that she can frighten the murderer into confessing. And we are her props."
"Can she do that?"
"She can try."
"Wait!" Inspector Aaah-Zhiss bustled up to them again. She snatched up the lightsaber. "I need this," she declared to Qui-Gon's stony glare.
"It will be going back with us to Coruscant, Inspector."
The Inspector's ears flattened. "It is evidence in a crime, Master Jedi."
"I believe you will find that the Jedi Antiquities Laws supercede all local ordinances. It is now in the custody of the Jedi Order."
Her white furry muzzle snarled. "Well, you're not going back Coruscant right now, and I need it for this demonstration."
Qui-Gon's head twitched, minimal permission for her to take it.
Qui-Gon inhaled, let it out slowly and closed his eyes. He really was going to meditation on what had happened with the lightsaber. Obi-Wan thought about doing so himself, but he wondered if the Inspector would think he was looking 'attentive' enough. At the moment, it was more interesting to watch. The Inspector paced by the still exposed body. Lieutenant Fifi had gone out to get the family of suspects. The Sub-Minister and her secretary whispered together under a fan-display of long blaster rifles. He wondered if this was the best setting to confront a murderer in. With the clear-plas enclosed cabinets of small arms, the walls hung with blasters and electro-whips and the display pedestals of special items like a Clufas Warrior's mandibles, razor boots and a spiked helmet, the room was filled with weapons.
- - - - - END PART 2 - - - - -
