Seekers (by Cathy Pauline)

Chapter 8

Ki-Erin wove their way expertly through crowded space lanes to the surface of Coruscant. As they were on urgent Jedi business, they had been permitted to bypass most of the traffic; Ki-Erin pulled their tiny borrowed craft neatly to a landing in the Jedi hangar bay.

During the four days of their journey home they had spoken much: of what Qui-Gon had seen of Obi-Wan, of nephrolite, of what Xanatos might be planning for both. But now they were anxious to continue with their mission: they walked in silence together to the repulsorlift tube that would bring them to the Council chambers. Tahl and Master Yoda were sitting by the doors, talking quietly, when they arrived. Tahl stood and looked to Qui-Gon: it was difficult to believe she was sightless the way her eyes found his so quickly. Master Yoda nodded and lowered his chair to the floor. He led them inside.

The Council was already gathered: they had had several hours warning of the travelers' arrival time. As the three Jedi they had been awaiting entered, they settled quickly into watchful silence. Master Yoda took his place in the circle; Tahl stood with Qui-Gon and Tomas and Ki-Erin in the center. Master Windu spoke first.

"We would like you first to explain everything that happened from the time you left hyperspace in the vicinity of Vandos3, to the time you left to come here."

Qui-Gon delivered most of the narrative, with comments and clarifications from Tomas and Ki-Erin. He described the planet, the two Jakubeks who hosted them, and the workers they had seen and met. He described the mine, and their descent into it, and their shared experience of the nephrolite. He was interrupted frequently by questions from the Council.

"Why, think you, did the nephrolite effect you much more strongly when you were moving quickly than when you were walking?" asked Yaddle.

Ki-Erin answered: "It was like it was pulling at us, pulling at our living Force. It was like running through a thick forest of pines, pushing through branches: go quickly, and they snap against you. Go slowly, and you can deflect them." Tomas nodded agreement.

Qui-Gon told how Obi-Wan's voice had caught him as they walked through the tunnel of unharvested nephrolite, how he had searched for the source and not found it; his astonishment at how quickly he had scanned an entire planet. How he had followed his bond with Obi-Wan, and felt almost present with him, in spirit.

"And you did not sense the danger in letting your soul roam so far?"

"No, Master, though Tomas did warn me. I was anxious to find my Padawan."

A moment of silence greeted this statement.

"Decided, have you then, to take Obi-Wan back as your Padawan?" asked Yoda.

"I decided that before Xanatos took him," Qui-Gon answered, his voice tight.

"Know this, does he?"

"I told him so."

"What were his words when you heard him calling you?" asked Mace.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly, remembering. "He said, 'Qui-Gon! I am here, Master!'" Qui-Gon opened his eyes in time to see Yoda and Mace Windu exchanging a significant look.

"Please, continue," said Mace.

Tomas took over the narrative to tell about their experience in the old mines. The questions came quickly .

"How did it feel to you in the Force, walking into that area?"

"How long before you asked did you begin to feel the difference?"

"How did you guess the nephrolite in that area was dark in color?" This question from Master Billaba was directed to Qui-Gon.

"Jemma had told us that two qualities besides length affected the value of raw nephrolite: its color, and its lustre. The nephrolite we had seen before had already been gray-white in color. Our use of the Force only changed its lustre from dull to shiny. I guessed that the nature of the Force in an area would affect its color, where the level of activity in the Force was apparently affecting its lustre."

At this point, Tomas pulled the packet with its strands of dark nephrolite from his belt pouch and handed it to Master Windu. Ki-Erin also handed over her packet of silver-gray nephrolite. Mace passed strands in each direction around the circle, so all of the Council members could examine the strange mineral; he kept one strand of each color in reserve, in their packets.

The questioning continued through their description of Qui-Gon's second foray to Obi-Wan, their talk before dinner, and Qui-Gon's experience of losing himself as they traveled away from the planet. Finally the questions were finished.

"Now Qui-Gon," directed Mace Windu, "tell us about the experience you had on the trip from Tricort5 to Vandos3A: your disturbed dreams, and how you saw Obi-Wan in the Force."

Qui-Gon described all he could remember of the incident, though much of what he had seen had been vague and difficult to follow.

"And you thought that Obi-Wan had been drugged somehow? Have you considered that the substance used on him might have been dark nephrolite?"

Tomas and Qui-Gon glanced at each other. "We had thought of that possibility," Tomas answered for them. "It seems reasonable."

"Not just reasonable," said Qui-Gon. "Likely, given what we know now of Xanatos' collection of the substance." Tomas nodded.

Mace Windu folded his hands in front of him. "Thank you all for your report. We will speak to you again in a few hours, when we have discussed the implications of what you have told us."

The four Jedi, Tahl included, bowed and left the room.

"Incredible," said Tahl when they reached the quiet halls of the west wing, where the adult Jedi and Padawans had their quarters. "You've learned a great deal in a short time."

"I want to know why Yoda and Mace were so interested in the status of my relationship with Obi-Wan."

Tomas looked uneasy. "I thought they were most concerned about what Xanatos is doing with nephrolite, myself."

"You know, don't you Tomas? Stop trying to evade the question."

They had reached the door to Tahl's quarters. Tahl led the way inside. From their position on the floor, huddled around a data station, Bant and Garen leapt to their feet.

"We thought you'd never get back!" cried Garen, a tall human boy only a year younger than his friend Obi-Wan.

"How is he, Qui-Gon?" This from Bant, in her soft gentle voice. Qui-Gon lowered himself to one knee before the tiny Calamari girl, his Padawan's special friend, so his face was level with hers.

"He's holding on, Bant."

"He's so brave," said Bant. "But I'm afraid for him."

"So am I. But he'll be all right. We know where he is now, and we're going to get him."

Bant nodded, and put her arms around his neck; and he held her, briefly, before she pulled away. He had grown fond of the girl when she had helped him and Obi-Wan and Tahl to foil Xanatos' scheme against the Temple only a month before.

"Thank you Qui-Gon. I know you'll find him. But it's hard not to worry."

They hadn't much time to talk. There were supplies to order for their journey. Tomas and Ki-Erin went to the engineering center to see what they could find, while Bant and Garen went to their afternoon classes; Tahl helped Qui-Gon to collect other items they would need, including fresh clothing and medicines for Obi-Wan.

"I don't think we'll need quite this much food for traveling, Tahl. You've ordered enough for five people!"

"But there will be five of us, Qui-Gon, once we collect Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon looked sharply at her face, but she went on packing a small sack, looking oblivious. Qui-Gon knew better.

"Tahl. You can't come. We need you here."

"I've found all I could in the databases. I've found nothing new since learning about Lansar. Miro can take over analyzing the databases for us. You're going to need me to help you infiltrate Starways security. Unless you or Tomas or Ki-Erin has developed a talent I don't know about?"

Qui-Gon opened his mouth, then shut it again. Tahl's golden brown skin and honey hair glowed in the soft overhead light. In that moment, she seemed very precious to him, and very fragile.

"I'm not made of porcelain, Qui-Gon. I'm a Jedi Knight, and though I've lost my sight, I'm still Force-sensitive."

"Tahl --"

"Qui-Gon, please. Stop being so protective. I won't put myself at risk by insisting on casing the Palace with you. Most of my work, I can do from the ship, or a temporary base. Besides, " she grinned up at him, "if I don't get out of the Temple soon, I might become dangerously unstable."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile. Tahl had always chafed at inactivity. He felt a soft pleasure at the thought of having her company on the journey.

"Does the Council know yet that you're coming with us?"

"I've already discussed it with Master Yoda. They approve. Yoda said that he had been wondering when I would decide to try my wings again."

They worked in silence for a while. Tahl carefully packed the data station that was calibrated to her fingers and hearing.

"Tahl, why is the Council concerned with Obi-Wan's status with me?"

Tahl sighed, obviously uncomfortable.

"Tahl." Qui-Gon firmed his resolve, determined to have an answer.

"They're worried about the state of trust between you, Qui-Gon."

"But why?"

"Qui-Gon... they're worried the boy will turn to the Dark Side under Xanatos' influence."

Qui-Gon stopped what he was doing, sank into the chair beside him. He felt numb.

"Why, Tahl? What reason has he ever given for them to suspect it?"

"None. None at all. It's only that Xanatos is so strong -- Qui-Gon --"

He was shaking his head, disbelieving. "They're wrong."

"Master Yoda said he thought that Obi-Wan was stronger than Xanatos," she said. "He and Mace agreed that it would be best if your relationship was stable once more. I think that's why they asked. Truly, my friend, I don't think it's Obi-Wan's goodness they question."

"No -- just my stubbornness in holding him at a distance for so long."

"Qui-Gon, stop." Tahl's voice was sharp. "For how long have you been ... indulging!... in this self-blame?"

He grimaced. "It's only truth."

"Not only truth. Not with your voice so bitter."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. She was right, as Tomas had been right on the repulsorlift train at Permanent Sunset.

"I'm sorry, Tahl."

She reached out and took his hand. He looked up at her, sadly.

"Come on," she told him. "We have more to do before the Council calls us. I want to be ready."

*****

As the sun rose Obi-Wan fell into a deep sleep. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and he'd lost a fair amount of blood. When he woke again the sun was past the meridian. He felt dizzy and weak; his throat burned. He needed water.

He pulled himself slowly upright until he was sitting, leaning back against the stone, and took one of the water bottles from the side of the rock where they would have been in shade that morning when Sitaris left them. He forced himself to take one mouthful at a time, and felt strength returning to his body. Desire for life grew strong in him once more. Where the Force is there is hope, he thought. And Qui-Gon is coming for me. He refused to think farther ahead than this. When he had finished an entire bottle of water, he crossed his legs and straightened his back, bowing his head and finding peace in the Force.

An hour later Sitaris came to him, though the sun had not yet set. He was dressed in tunic, trousers, and hat, as he had been the day Xanatos left.

"Have you sought the gods' forgiveness, then?"

Obi-Wan reflected that in a way he had, though not for what Sitaris thought: for his rush of anger. Silently, gracefully he rose to his feet. Sitaris is not an enemy, he is an obstacle, he thought. I must not blame him for his narrow-mindedness, when he knows no other way to think. Still he could not help feeling disgust for the man and his ways of thinking. He took the kazaba Sitaris handed him, grateful for once for the prohibition against looking him in the eye. I thought he was fair, and I was disappointed, he thought. But he is fair, within his own world-view. Where I am a bonder, to his mind, and so never to be judged by the same standards as a free man. Obi-Wan's thoughts turned bitter, and he paused in wrapping the kazaba, seeking equanimity in the Force once more.

When he was done to Sitaris' satisfaction, the man left him, taking the water bottles with him. Obi-Wan looked up; far above him he saw Xanatos' ship approaching. He watched the ship descend on its repulsors, settling to the ground not far from the tent, in the same clearing where it had landed six days before. Sitaris was again setting out camp chairs, table, and drinks. Obi-Wan sat, his legs crossed, returning to his meditation: the feeling of Xanatos in the Force stirred up his anger once more, and he wanted to be strong in his center. Besides, he did not want to give Xanatos the satisfaction of seeing him watching.

Perhaps twenty minutes after he closed his eyes, Obi-Wan felt Xanatos approaching him. A wave of fear shook him. It's only reasonable to be afraid, he told himself, the man is dangerous. He focused on relaxing his body, on breathing, accepting the fear and allowing it to drain away.

A hand cupped his chin. "Such a barbarian you've become," came the silky voice. "Covered in dust and sweat and --" here he stopped to sniff at the boy's neck -- "something foul. Your skin dark and dry; your hair bleached almost pale. I wonder if Qui-Gon would recognize you. "

Here Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find Xanatos looking straight at him, calculating. He shifted his gaze to one side with what he hoped was a disdainful look.

Xanatos sneered and released him, reaching up to unfasten the chain from where it was attached to the stone. Obi-Wan had realized, watching Sitaris, that it was sealed with a thumb-lock, set to recognize the man's prints; he must have programmed the codes for Xanatos already. The boy stood quickly so Xanatos would not yank him up to his feet, and when Xanatos started walking, he followed with long strides, his hands at his sides, wishing he dared to strike at Xanatos.

The man paused before the tiny camp where Sitaris was still sitting, watching them approach. Obi-Wan had been studiously avoiding looking at the trainer, and so was surprised to hear approval in the man's voice as he spoke. The words sounded like part of a ritual: "I thank you, bonder, for allowing me to train you, and for learning quickly and well."

"Thank your trainer, boy," said Xanatos in a soft, dangerous voice.

Rebellion filled him at this mockery. His voice heavy with disgust, he said, "Xanatos wishes you thanked for the tending and training of his supposed property."

He was not surprised when Xanatos swiftly backhanded him across the face. He took the slap, seeing stars; quickly straightened and turned his other cheek to Xanatos, inviting him to strike again.

"Shall I fetch my whip, Master Xanatos, for his punishment? " came Sitaris' cold voice.

"For what, lying?" Rage burned at the back of Obi-Wan's mind, but his thoughts were clear and focused. He watched Xanatos make a small gesture with his left hand, and then he was falling, the collar searing his nerves. So it hurts, he thought. I'm not going to participate in my own humiliation. Dimly he heard the voices of the two men standing over him, but he could not comprehend them.

He felt himself being carried aboard the ship, carried to the small cabin where he had spent most of the trip to this place, dropped on the bed. Xanatos left him briefly, then returning gripped his head and chin, forced the bitter drink he now knew so well down his throat. When the last of the drug was in him, the collar turned off. He lay on the bed trembling with the aftereffects, and watched the door slide shut behind Xanatos.

*****

Obi-Wan came to himself to find Xanatos standing across from him in a narrow room, watching him. He shuddered at the half-remembered shreds of nightmares that still tugged at his consciousness. Aching in all his muscles, he pushed himself to sit up on the narrow cot that held him. The chain still hanging from the collar at his neck dragged at his spirit.

"This is your cell at the Palace," said Xanatos. "From your behavior when we left Sitaris, I can see I'm going to have to make a few things clear to you. First, I have decided that from now on you will be mute. I've had a cybernetic implant installed in your neural pathways that should prevent you from using your voice without my permitting it."

Obi-Wan reached up to touch the collar with one hand.

"Go ahead, try it," challenged Xanatos.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Even thinking in words was difficult. He put both hands to the collar, trying to think around the blockage.

"You see? Ah, yes, and by the way," said Xanatos, "I've changed the collar to a higher shock setting." He waited a moment until Obi-Wan lowered his hands, resigned. "Now about the contests in which you will be participating. I want it absolutely clear that you are going to win every one of them. If you do not --" Here he paused, watching Obi-Wan's face carefully -- "If you do not, I will ensure that your winning opponent comes to an unfortunate end. Perhaps not immediately. But it will be so, and I'll be certain to let you know when and how."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes tightly, horrified.

"Remember that I can always make your situation worse. Remember the price of making me angry. You are fortunate: I was impressed by your little show of temper. I thought you were too much the perfect little Jedi to have it in you. But I will not tolerate any further disobedience. Do you understand me?"

Slowly, sadly Obi-Wan nodded. He was stung by the reference to his temper: he had let his anger get the best of his judgement, he knew. Hadn't he decided only a few days before to watch and wait, and bide his time? And now Xanatos had hemmed him in worse than ever.

The man crouched beside him.

"I hold the key to this collar." He brushed the collar with his fingertips. "Your prints and retinal scan are registered here in my name. Any denizen of this planet would return you as a runaway or stolen property at my word. It would not matter what you told them; a bonder's word has no value, his history is meaningless. Slavery is an institution here." Xanatos ran his fingers up and along Obi-Wan's jaw; the boy shifted and turned his head. Xanatos laughed quietly; with both hands he turned Obi-Wan to face him. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, bowing his head and his back.

"You hate me, don't you. Young Jedi. I can feel it in you. You're straining to hold it in. Sitaris would say you should learn to love me, since the gods have clearly decreed that I am your guide to strength and wisdom. After all, I hold your lead." Here he slid one hand around the chain hanging from Obi-Wan's neck, close to the collar. "Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I will be the one to free you from the constraints of a Temple upbringing. Perhaps you will learn from me how to use your hatred. It can give you great power." Obi-Wan shook his head in determined denial.

"Still clinging to the code. Yet I am your master: and you my slave. Do you understand what this means? This body is mine. I will feed and clothe you as I wish. Your time is mine. You will sleep when I say, and fight when I say, and you will serve me as I will. And if you refuse, I will punish you, and no one here will deny my right to do so: indeed, they will expect it."

For a moment longer Xanatos watched him in silence. Then he stood, tall over the boy bent and heartsick on the narrow cot; menacing. "Sleep tonight," he told him. "You will need all your strength tomorrow at the Palace." The door whirred shut behind him as he left. Obi-Wan sank back to the bunk, hoping sleep would come to him.