Unable to sleep, Obi-Wan had seen Deanna go to Sitaris. He had watched her leave the tent, and come toward him; he wondered at her intent.
"Sitaris said I may speak with you a while, in my capacity as a counselor," she said. "Is that all right with you?"
Obi-Wan nodded and sat up, crossing his legs and drawing his rough blanket around himself. She sat beside him.
"I've promised not to ask you of your past, or to permit you to speak of it; and I've promised not to lead you into breaking any of the Mozelle bonder laws," she continued, looking down, tracing a pattern in the dirt. "But I thought you might like to talk about what's happened the last few days. I sense you're distressed in your mind, about more than just being made Sitaris' bonder. Is that so?"
Obi-Wan nodded. He folded his hands lightly in his lap. His fingers were still brown from his days in the desert sun, training with Sitaris.
"Tell me about it?"
Now that she'd asked, that he was finally free to speak, Obi-Wan wasn't certain where to begin. "There's several things... Wesley, for one. I don't want him to grieve for me. He... he blames himself for what's happened."
"It's true he feels guilt for his part in what's happened. But those are his feelings, not yours. He's coming to terms with what he's done."
Obi-Wan felt a surge of rebellion at that. It was true, Wesley's feelings were not his responsibility. But he was so near, and his thoughts always turned to Obi-Wan, it seemed, these last twelve hours. And the power in him steadily growing, it seemed... The young Jedi was having enough difficulty controlling his own emotions; it was hard to screen out Wesley's as well. "It seems to me he's only been beating himself up about it all night."
Deanna seemed to be eyeing him sideways, now: studying him. "What do you mean?" she asked after a moment. "How do you know?"
Now they came to the crux of his problems. But would she believe him? Somehow he trusted her. "I can feel him," he said softly. "I can sense his emotions. It's difficult not to, with his thoughts turned to me all the time."
Beside him he heard Deanna release a long breath. "You are an empath," she said.
"I have empathic abilities," he corrected.
"So do I."
Almost he looked up at her. But he remembered in time, and kept his eyes down. He never would have guessed she was Force-sensitive. Perhaps she was not, and this was some other ability.
"It's how I know you've been awake all night. I sense you feel... tormented by something. Is Will troubling you, also? He's hardly slept tonight, either, for being so angry with himself for what he said to you."
"Is he? All I can sense is his anger, and his thinking about me."
"Yes." She spoke decisively. "Trust me. I don't think he's ever felt worse about something he's done, not in all the time I've known him."
That was hardly better, knowing he was the cause of feeling Will's angry recriminations. It still hurt. Obi-Wan's sense of Will and Wesley in the Living Force pounded at his consciousness. Almost he had withdrawn, at that touch, instead of opening to the Force in his meditation that night. But there was something else he sensed, something he had to know...
"What else is troubling you? I sense fear. Dread."
For a moment Obi-Wan was silent, reliving that dread "I don't know how to explain," he said finally.
"Try," she said, inviting him to continue. Open to understanding him in a way that none of the others had been.
Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force once more. A hundred possible futures flashed through his mind, all of them violent, none clear enough to understand. He flinched, then focused on breathing, on calm. "I can't. I don't understand it myself. Just... danger coming. Violence."
"Coming? You can sense this?"
He nodded.
"When? How?"
"I don't know!" he moaned. "I feel so helpless." He was surprised at himself for that admission. He had not realized it until he said it. It was a frightening feeling.
She put an arm around his shoulder and drew him close, inviting him to lean against him. He stiffened. "It's all right," she said. He relaxed a little, and let his head fall to her shoulder. "If you'll allow me, I'd like to tell Sitaris about your feelings, about your being an empath and sensing the future. I think he should know. He cares about you, you know."
Obi-Wan stiffened, then forced himself to think beyond his gut response. Master Yoda was always reminding him to look beyond the obvious, especially when dealing with people. "I know he cares," He said at last. He sighed. "He's compassionate in his own way. He's just limited by a narrow set of experiences, a narrow perspective. How can I blame him?"
"That's a very mature attitude," Deanna said softly. Obi-Wan didn't answer. He was feeling homesick again.
Deanna stirred. "May I tell him about you, then?"
"Tell him, if you think it would do any good. But not about my danger sense. There's nothing really to tell. I don't want him to think... well, anyway, just don't." He sighed again. All his body had felt tense as a drawn bowcaster; now, with his mind somewhat eased, he was starting to feel his exhaustion. He yawned.
"Try to sleep," Deanna told him. She kissed his head, then eased him back to the ground, helping him to wrap the blanket tightly around his body. "Good night."
He smiled, faintly, in thanks, and closed his eyes.
-
From his position by the door-flap of their own tent, Will watched Deanna kiss Ben and tuck the blanket around the boy. Then she left, returning not toward their tent as he'd expected, but back to Sitaris. She stood a moment by the opening; a hand reached out and pushed the flap open, and she ducked inside. Will watched a moment longer, indecisive; then silently stepped outside and followed.
He raised a hand to knock on the tent post by the door-flap, but stopped when he heard voices speaking inside.
"He's not like any child you've ever known, Sitaris," said Deanna.
"That I've noticed," Sitaris answered wryly. Will heard liquid pouring, as into a cup.
"More than that. He's an empath. Do your people know this ability?"
"An ability to sense the thoughts of others?"
"To sense the feelings of others. Sometimes to experience them so intensely, they are almost like your own. I am an empath. I've suspected something of this ability in the boy for several days now."
"And now you're certain."
"He told me of his own accord, when I asked why he was so troubled. His distress when you punished him yesterday was acute: not just because of the pain, which was bad enough, but because he sensed your reluctance, and Wesley's guilt and horror, and Will's anger."
A pause; Will heard a glass being lifted and returned to a table.
"So his punishment was twice a punishment?"
"Indeed. And I fear what would happen, if you continue to deal with him as you always have: will he become inured to the pain of others? Will he become apathetic?"
Sitaris sighed. "When I managed him in the Starways arena, I wondered at his quickly growing apathy: he moved, most of the time, like all the world was pain, that he could not hide from. He seemed to mourn the passing of our time in the desert. Now I think I understand some part of what was happening. The arena must have been overwhelming to his senses."
"The Palace was bad enough, the two times I visited; and I have training and experience in blocking out the emotions of others. He is only a child."
"Thank you for informing me -"
"The boy cares about you, Sitaris. He cares what you think."
"After all, he knows what I feel, eh?"
"That's part of it."
Will felt the silence of the cavern, the stillness, as of a giant presence holding its breath, waiting.
"I thank you for your thoughtfulness, Deanna. You have given me much to consider."
Will heard the two rise to their feet, within. As if waking from a trance, he realized he was eavesdropping, and soon to be discovered. Quickly and quietly, he walked back to their own tent. He pulled off his boots, and lay down on his pallet, pulling the blanket over him.
A minute later, Deanna walked in. She sat on her pallet, thinking quietly. Then Will realized she was watching him. He stirred.
"You were listening," she accused him.
"I hadn't meant to, Deanna. I'm sorry." He watched her as she removed her shoes. "Was it true, what you told him?" he asked softly.
"Every word."
He was silent for a while, considering. He felt torn. "We might be able to leave, tomorrow," he said finally. "But -"
"You don't want to abandon him again."
He laughed softly, sadly. "I'm insane, aren't I? What's wrong with me, Deanna?"
"You know he's unhappy here. You feel it's your fault. You want to find a way to make amends."
"I suppose." He lay still on his pallet. Deanna lay down.
After a while, he spoke again. "I can't think how to get him away while he's wearing that collar."
He was startled to hear Wesley speak from the corner. "I still have the cutter in my pocket," the boy said quietly.
"I wonder if he would want us to take him again?" he asked, softly, not expecting an answer.
-
In the dim light of a rising dawn Will rose and left the tent. He had gotten little sleep. By the cavern wall he saw Obi-Wan standing, wrapped loosely in his blanket, staring up at the carved and mechanically supported roof of the great stone room. When Sitaris exited his own tent, walking to the boy with a bundle of cloth, Ben dropped his eyes.
"He looks almost frightened," Will told Deanna as she stepped out beside him.
"He is frightened," she answered.
Exchanging a worried glance, both walked toward the boy and master.
Then Ben looked up, straight past Sitaris. "The lookouts are dead," he said with quiet intensity.
Sitaris dropped his bundle. He grabbed Ben with both arms, and shook him. "What are you doing, boy?"
"You've got to believe me - the enemy will be here in minutes!" Ben's voice rose in pitch and volume with every word.
"What am I to do with you?" Sitaris asked, disgusted.
"I don't care what you do with me. Just call them, check on them!"
Just then Kadric approached from the cavern entrance at a dead run, and skidded to a halt in front of Sitaris. "The guard change reports that they just found our lookouts dead, and the shield generator damaged! There are enemy craft on the horizon, not five minutes away!"
Sitaris stared at Kadric. "How did you know?" he asked, turning back to Ben.
The boy shrugged helplessly. "I felt it," he whispered.
Sitaris let go the boy. He strode purposefully to his tent.
"He knew?" Kadric asked Will.
"He told Sitaris just before you did," Will confirmed.
They were interrupted by Sitaris's voice, amplified to echo throughout the cavern. "Attention: we are under attack. Attention: we are under attack."
From all the corners of the cavern, the folk of the camp poured out of their tents. Wesley, too, came to join them. Will took the opportunity to pull on his boots. He had nothing else to gather. He waited for Sitaris. If they would not allow him to fight, he was leaving. Deanna went to Ben, followed closely by Wes, and put a comforting arm around the boy, shivering in his blanket, still chained to the wall.
Sitaris continued with orders: "Drenda will organize the retreat of non-combatants. All non-combatants must gather water, food, and medicines and retreat to the cave of the underground pool. Kadric will assign positions above and distribute the weapons. Prepare yourselves, everyone, and quickly! Now, go!"
The crowd scattered, everyone moving purposefully, most for their own tents. Kadric gathered the fighters around him and shouted orders. Those who were already dressed and armed were sent immediately to the surface.
Sitaris reappeared from his tent with a rifle slung over his shoulder, and a large cloth sack in his hand. Will stepped forward. "Sitaris, I want to fight -"
"Here are your weapons," Sitaris spoke over his demand. "I hope you will stay and help defend us. We have escape routes through the caverns, but if they've mapped the exits, we'll have difficulty getting out." He glanced toward Ben and Deanna.
"We'll stay and fight."
"Good." The man strode on toward Ben. One-handed he unfastened the chain from the boy's neck.
Kadric came up behind them "Sitaris, Rittern reports that there are many small vehicles approaching from the west and the south - sloops, he thinks, and speeder bikes."
"Heavier firepower than most of our arms, but they could have sent worse. They still might. How long to repair the shield generator?"
Kadric shrugged helplessly. "I'm told it doesn't look too bad..."
Sitaris turned to Ben. "Could you fix it?" he asked.
"Possibly," the boy answered, looking anxious. "Help would make it faster."
"I'll help," Wesley volunteered.
"Wes -" Will, began, unsure whether he should permit the boy to join the action on the surface.
"I'm staying," declared Wesley.
With a frown, Will nodded. It was probably best they stay close together, after all.
"Look out!" Ben suddenly shouted. There was a great cracking, rumbling sound from overhead. Ben jumped forward. He shouldered Kadric to one side, and barreled into Sitaris, who fell to the ground, the boy atop him. A pair of boulders crashed to the floor where the two men had been standing. Several more fell into the tents around them. Will looked up. There was a great hole, now, open to daylight, where before had been the ceiling of the cavern. Something small and loud streaked across the blue sky beyond.
Ben tried to scramble quickly off Sitaris, but the man seized his arm. "You just saved my life, boy: and might have saved the lives of many others in the camp. How could I find the will to punish you?" Sitaris rolled to his feet, pulling Ben up with him.
"This is an omen, Sitaris," said Kadric. "The gods speak through your bonder."
"But an omen for what fate?"
"For our doom, perhaps: but also, I think, a chance for our redemption."
Engines whined above; laser bolts sang.
"Past time we left," Sitaris said. Together the small group crossed the cavern.