Legacy
Book I
Chapter 5
Obi-Wan reappeared within the hour, slipping through the gathering dusk as smoothly as the lengthening shadows between the forest's pillars, his presence no more than a darkwing moth fluttering home on gossamer wings. Even Qui-Gon did not sense his approach until he crossed the pale threshold of illumination cast by the small campfire.
The tall man welcomed him into the warm circle with an open-handed gesture, making no remark upon the impressive deployment of Shadow's skills. To say Master Dooku has taught you well would serve no diplomatic purpose, and raise the spectre of an uncomfortable truth still lingering forgiven, but not forgotten, between them.
The younger Jedi settled close beside the crackling flames, gaze fixed on their liquid white hearts for a long moment before he spoke. "Master," he began – the very form of address a compressed eloquence of its own – "I wish to apologize."
Qui-Gon dipped his head, attending patiently.
But his companion lapsed into a brooding silence, contemplating the fire's hypnotic undulations with grave, introspective mien. "It's strange to be out in the field again," he said, at length, glancing ruefully up at the strife-fretted dome above. "I mean, the real field, not a fatuous diplomatic event."
The tall man smiled, faintly. "This mission marks a transition, indeed."
Obi-Wan met his gaze briefly, deep orange highlights cast over high cheekbones and furrowed brow. "I remember," he continued, cautiously, as though treading on unstable ground, "On Melida-Daan…." A pause, then a bold push forward again. "There was no question of limits. We were at the limit – all the time. Or past." He contemplated the fire's languid permutations, face bathed now in gold and crimson. "I did what I had to do. There was no limit, only survival or failure. Flying down here…" He waved a hand, expansively. "I reverted to habit. It's a stupid younglings' mistake."
"It is a natural, and understandable mistake," the Jedi master replied. "Look upon it as an opportunity to learn."
Yes, well, I seem to have much to unlearn."
"As do we all. I've prepared your favorite field ration gruel, if it's any consolation."
Levity rejoined the comfortable circle of their gathering. The fire's glare seemed to soften a trifle. "More like a penance, if you ask me."
"As you say; in either case, however, it is sure to build character."
Obi-Wan offered him a thin, lopsided smile and accepted the unappetizing offering with good grace.
Much later, as they lay side by side while the fire smoldered down into blackened ruins, Qui-Gon watched his companion drift suspended between wakefulness and the Force, gazing upward at the swirling storm above in a half-trance, eyes open but focus far, far inward, where the invisible fountain of life welled endlessly into being, tracing pasts and futures into the present moment's pristine reflecting-pool, where lightning and strife were reflected in blue-green depths.
"You should sleep," he said, despite himself.
The suggestion broke the tranquil surface, spreading out in ripples of annoyance. Obi-Wan rolled his head sideways and offered him an exasperated grimace. "Isn't that a bit like a Hutt calling his mistress fat?"
Qui-Gon smiled. "Touché."
The young Knight propped his hands behind his head and peered critically at the heavens once more. "You know, " he observed, "If this storm system has been raging for the last month, it's difficult to imagine a raiding party successfully entering or leaving atmosphere."
"A fine point. From which you infer…?"
"Either that the supposed raiders are still lurking here on-world, or else that the latest villainies never actually happened."
"Either possibility is disturbing," the older man agreed. "What does the Force tell you?"
Obi-Wan's mouth quirked impishly at one corner. "That I should sleep," he blandly replied, turning his back to the Jedi master and pulling his cloak and thermal blanket snug about his shoulders.
Shortly after dawn, they turned their mutual attention back to the problem posed by the inverted ship. The atmospheric storm smothered the sun's rays into a diffuse blanket of grey radiance, pale fingers shafting brokenly through the marbled cloud – but the Force rose radiant and unsullied, kindling the new day's beginning in their blood, in every measured breath of their shared meditation.
Thus fortified and nourished, they set minds to the new task, standing beneath the mighty trees with arms raised and eyes serenely closed, wrapping the forest's life about the heavy mass, lifting it ever so slowly, cautiously, into the air. The shuttle teetered slightly, then evened out, wafting over the treetops on an invisible current, serenely aloft in the Force's effulgence. It sailed overhead, majestically, sending lines of startled avians fleeing upward with many a squawk and shrill of resentment, its hull brushing the canopy leaves, breaking an occasional branch here and there. The Jedi trod with ceremonial gravity beneath it, following the progress of its shadow across the mottled forest floor, until they and their weird burden, hovering like a silver cloud, reached the open courtyard of a small clearing.
The ship wobbled, descended, and then softly lit upon the knee-deep grass of the central meadow, furred creatures erupting from hiding places as its extended landing prongs sank deep into burrow and tunnel beneath the loamy soil, steam rising off its gleaming sides as dew evaporated in the rising warmth.
Obi-Wan let the Force go, reluctantly, folding his hands into opposite sleeves and opening his eyes upon the tranquil scene. Already the ship had been received by the forest. A pair of gorgeously plumed birds perched atop the viewport's curve, happily preening one another.
"That'll mean some cleaning later," he prognosticated, imagining the vessel covered in a sticky and odiferous layer of guano.
"It can't be helped," Qui-Gon replied, opening the ramp and slipping inside the hold. "Let's see how extensive the damage is."
They had restored the main systems to full functionality by midday – not a complete refit, but enough to insure a quick exit and a safe hyperspace jump at the end of their tenure here. A Jedi did not maneuver himself into a corner, if at all possible, and a stranded ship was a notoriously tight corner in which to be caught.
"A good landing, all things considered," the Jedi master decided, when the routine maintenance chore was finished. "The recruitment team for the pilot program will be banging down your door next."
"Force forbid," Obi-Wan grumbled.
The older man swiveled in his chair at the systems diagnostic computer. "Your friend Garen Muln has enrolled for a full three year rotation. Master Rhara was nearly exultant."
The young Knight snorted. "Oh, I'm sure. But in my case, misery does not love company. I'll stay on the ground, thank you."
"Speaking of which, shall we…?"
Obi-Wan made some last consultation of the navcomp. "I think the magnetic compass blew out – but if this positional estimate is correct, we're not far from the site of the last reported attack. Maybe…. twenty klicks. I couldn't have planned it better."
Qui-Gon raised his brows, teasingly. "Arrogance is a dangerous companion on the way."
His young friend shrugged at the familiar Jedi aphorism. "So is one's former master," he quipped. "I'll take my chances."
"Good. In that case, we'll head straight down the southern slopes. The nomadic tribes seem to be a primary target – if we can locate one of them, we'll make that a starting point for investigation."
They tightened the seals on their survival packs and headed down the ramp, side by side.
Qui-Gon's use of the term "slope" proved to be highly euphemistic. The sheer cliff-face took more than two hours to successfully scale, even with the assistance of cable launchers, and landed them upon the stony banks of a river canyon winding along the mountain's feet. They could not see past the curved walls of this sinuous gauntlet, nor had they been able to use the active scanners to get a geological readout, the atmospheric interference proving to great for the shuttle's damaged equipment to handle.
Obi-Wan looked upstream and down. "We're flowing downhill, I presume," he said, setting off along the right-hand bank, springing lightly from boulder to algae-slick boulder. The water burbled happily beside him, ornamental white eddies appearing here and there in its energetic current. "I do hope there's nothing nasty around the next bend."
The Force was placid, however, so they pushed onward, mindful of the lengthening shadows falling across the deeply carved valley.
"It's… good here," Obi-Wan ventured at length, with an almost childlike simplicity.
"When was the last time you were in a proper wilderness?" Qui-Gon mused, reminded again of the hiatus in their shared history.
"Outside a desolate wasteland? A while," his companion admitted, with a small chuckle. "You're wearing off on me, at long last."
"It had to happen sometime." They stopped, balanced upon a large stone mid-stream. The tumbling waters flowed by on either side, an endless ribbon of shadow and light hurrying onward to an unknown future. A light breeze picked up and riffled the hems of their dark cloaks, tugged at unbound hair. The Living Force sounded like a great tympanum, reverberating in light and leaf, coursing stream and measured breath. Qui-Gon rested a hand on his former apprentice's shoulder, wrapping them both in the perfection of the moment.
And then they moved on, hastening now to outrun swiftly waning daylight.
By nightfall, the canyon had widened to a steep series of falls descending the foothills in boisterous succession. The Jedi clambered down the scree beside them, mindful of the lichen crusted, treacherous footing and unreliable handholds. Where the tumbled rock gave way to boulder-strewn grassland, the river pooled into a shallow lake ringed by monolithic structures, slabs of stone thrown by giant hands down the slopes, to land here helter skelter like discarded toys.
They dropped their packs by unspoken consensus and filled water-canisters at the water's edge. Overhead, the storm retreated a distance, circling the periphery of heaven with angry fire but leaving the stars directly overhead visible. The Meruu cluster shone bright, five or six beacons hung like festival lanterns at the planet's pole.
"If I were superstitious, I'd say that's a good sign."
Qui-Gon drank in the sight. "Belief in good signs is not superstitious," he argued, mildly. "Only the belief that such signs are not rooted in the unifying Force."
His companion gaped at him. "Now I'm rubbing off on you."
The Jedi master cocked an amused brow. "Don't call the soul healers until I start lamenting the uncivilized condition of our surroundings."
"Ha." The younger man tucked their belongings beneath the shelter of a particularly grotesque boulder and stretched out supine, head resting on his pack. "It's much warmer down here. We needn't make a fire."
"No." Qui-Gon joined him beneath the scant overhang. "There are an estimated hundred thousand persons living in indigent communities out here on the equatorial plains. Much of Niffrendi's original colonization was effected by runaway slaves from the Rims - and that unofficial influx still accounts for most the immigrant population."
"Yes, I dug about in the historical files and discovered that the system's incorporation as a Republic protected territory did not sit well with the nomadic groups – they did not wish for the imposition of federal galactic law."
"And who can blame them?" the Jedi master quietly mused. "Freedom is hard won – and sometimes it is better left untainted by the machinations of so-called democracy."
This earned him a startled silence. "You sound like Dooku sometimes, Master."
There was a thread of worry beneath Obi-Wan's lighthearted tone.
"And you sound like me sometimes, did we not just agree? Do not worry, young one, I am not plotting sedition… nor planning another apostasy."
His counterpart scowled., a wordless chiding felt through the Force rather than seen.
"That is why Master Yoda was so happy to see us partnered, you realize," Qui-Gon continued. "The Council relies upon you to keep me in line."
"Well, I'll certainly do my best," the young Knight drawled. "But a river in flood carries the dam with it."
"To forbid a thing is not to stop it, nor is punishment the same as teaching," the Jedi master retorted, deploying another quotation from his arsenal of traditional platitudes.
But there was no beating Obi-Wan at his own most cherished game. "Wisdom may point the way, but an old fool will still follow the rut of his prejudice."
"I surrender,"Qui-Gon responded, airily. " After all, Words are a but a sieve through which true insight slips, leaving the dross of concept."
"Master. You cannot take a last shot after you have conceded defeat."
"Oh? Why not?"
"It's against the Articles of War. Besides, Shantar B'kleva was an epistemological relativist and a heretic. Quotations from his opus don't… don't count."
"Ah, alas. I appear to have been kept in line."
The Force chimed with their amusement, and the last glimmer of light faded over the imposing hunchbacked ridge, leaving the clustered stars above to shine on in distant splendor.
