LIVING HISTORY
by ardavenport
= = = Part 13
The circle of smooth wood rose up from the floor under the curved silver hemispher fixed to the ceiling above it. Qui-Gon Jinn steadied his Padawan against his body. The last of Obi-Wan's grasp of the Force slipped away with his strength, but he kept standing, his head down, pressed next to Qui-Gon's chest as if seeking shelter.
"Obi-Wan." Arms holding his apprentice to his body, Qui-Gon turned toward the smaller sleeping area. Eyes still closed, Obi-Wan moved with him without stumbling as Qui-Gon left the circle of wooden pillars around the lift. Then letting his Padawan fall back into his arm, he scooped up his legs, hefting him up; he was hardly a burden for the large man. He crossed the apartment to the sleeping platform and laid his apprentice on it.
Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan looked stricken as if he had disobeyed some unspoken command that he should not need help if he was unwell. Qui-Gon discouraged that falacy by ignoring it as he bent to loosen the straps of his boots and pull them off. They thumped on the floor, first the right, then the left. Obi-Wan fumbled with his belt, but Qui-Gon brushed his hands aside and unbuckled it for him, taking the lightsaber off and putting it on the side table by the head of the sleeping platform along with a small medical case from Healer Zhenum. Obi-Wan's expression remained resolutely unhappy.
He had refused to let Qui-Gon carry him from Tamwa Hall, even after the performers and crew had been sent away. Director Tykon had eyed the Jedi with much intensity as they left. Healer Zhenum had also advised that he not walk, but Obi-Wan had stubbornly insisted that he only needed a little help. Privately, Qui-Gon had been quite proud of Obi-Wan's determination; he used the focus that a Jedi Knight needed. A Master could only guide their apprentice to it. He had relied on the Force for strength as much as Qui-Gon's support. But when they came to the foot of the stairs up to the tower, Qui-Gon overode his objections and picked him up. Zhenum had intended to go with them, but he took one look up at the spiral staircase and handed over a medical case along with his instructions and a promise that one of them would come up to check on Obi-Wan later.
Sliding the belt out from under him, Qui-Gon loosened his obi and tunic, then sat him up to get his arms out of the sleeves.
"Just relax. Let me take care of it," he instructed after Obi-Wan tried to help again and almost got an arm stuck. Tunic, tabards, obi, then pants and undertunic all came off. Turning his head on the pillow, Obi-Wan reached up, but Qui-Gon stopped him again and gently pulled off the band from his tail lock, put it aside and smoothed that long lock on the back of his head.
Qui-Gon tugged the blankets down from under Obi-Wan, covered him and then sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform and opened the medical case. He put the scanner on Obi-Wan's chest, recording the readings, then held up the sample collector. Obi-Wan winced when it jabbed his arm. Qui-Gon confirmed that the sample reading on the analyzer was good, saved it for the Healer to review later and put it away. He got up, went to the food prep area and came back with a cup of water. Returning to the case, he took out the one-dose of medicine that Zhenum had told him to give to Obi-Wan. It only diminished the symptoms, but from his own experience that was adequate compensation for the taste.
Mixing it with the water, he sat down next to Obi-Wan and helped him sit up.
"It is best to drink it all at once."
Eyes locked on the cup, Obi-Wan took it and upended it. A tiny line of the cloudy liquid ran down his chin as he gulped it down with a sour grimace. Then he flinched away when Qui-Gon wiped the dribble with the elge of his sleeve.
"Lie back down. Rest." Qui-Gon covered him. "I'll be near if you need anything." He stood up.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon turned. Obi-Wan's fingers curled around the edge of the coverings, pushing them back down from his neck and shoulders. "Will the Play be canceled if they order a quarantine?"
He sat down again.
"Possibly. But it is more likely to only be delayed, if the Healers have their way." While Zhenum examined Obi-Wan, Director Tykon had ordered his performers to the opposite end of the room, clearly concerned about contagion. Zhenum had assured him that Obi-Wan had already been treated and could not be a carrier. But one of the Darth Yarrs asked about a dancer who had left the auditions the previous day, complaining about not feeling well. Zhenum immediately demanded to know who it was and where they were. Tykon had scoffed that the person, a dancer named Twunar, was sick and that any claim of illness was just an excuse from a slacker who was too cowardly to meet the Director's standards. The Healer scolded Tykon about his lack of qualifications in medicine and decreed that any possible illness should have been reported immediately. Zhenum had commed the other Healers about locating the ailing Twunar.
Qui-Gon laid a hand on his apprentice's arm. "You are concerned."
"Yana and the others are determined to do well in the auditions." Obi-Wan lowered his eyes for a moment. "They would be very disappointed if they were not allowed to perform."
"Yes, I suppose they would be." Tykon and the performers might fear a cancellation less than failure. An unperformed Play could still be claimed to be an unfulfilled success . "But that is not our concern, Obi-Wan."
"Will they still give us the remains of the holocron if the Play is canceled?"
Qui-Gon frowned. "Chancellor Mwetta and her Executive Council agreed to give the remains of Darth Yarr's holocron to the Jedi Order if we participated in their celebration. No conditions were set for them to withhold the holocron. If there are any problems we shall contact the Jedi Council. Though I doubt there will be any," he finished, reassuring, but Obi-Wan still looked worried. "There is something else?"
"Not about the holocron." He frowned. "Master, when we came back to the Hall, they were singing about loving the Sith. Why would they do that? Weren't the Sith cruel and oppressive to the people they ruled?"
"That would not stop people from loving their oppressors." Qui-Gon saw the confusion in his young Padawan's eyes. "Even cruelty and violence can look benevolent and kind from the right point of view. And Darth Yarr was known for corrupting the point of view of her people to her advantage."
"Our briefing for this mission did not mention any of that."
"It is in the Jedi Archives."
"Any information about the Sith is restricted. You need to be present for me to access it."
"Ah." He nodded. The Jedi Order did not allow adventurous and curious Padawans access to potentially dark paths in their training. Only senior Padawans and Knights were allowed free access to anything beyond the basic facts about the Sith. And some things were restricted to only Masters and the Jedi Council. He spotted a stool by the window-wall, retrieved it and sat down. "What do you surmise about 'The Tragedy of Darth Yarr' from the the auditions we have seen?"
Obi-Wan's brows furrowed with concentration. "Knights Keth and Minigin come to defeat Darth Yarr, but the people she rules love her. And Keth and Minigan are helped by a person in Yarr's Castle, but there is some disagreenment between them about it. That is what happened? Keth and Minigan were aided by a servant in Yarr's fortress?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. The servant who betrayed Yarr did love her, but she had seen clearly the evil of the Dark Side. So, when the Jedi came, she gave them access to Yarr's fortress, this Castle," he gestured, his eyes flicking downward. "Keth and Minigan were able to confront Yarr alone, without her supporters and she was defeated, though Keth was killed as well."
"Yarr had an apprentice."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Hulus. He was killed when he confronted Keth and Minigan when they first arrived. Yarr heard of this and her supporters rallied around her in her fortress where Keth and Minigan could not reach her. That is why the betrayal was so important. Yarr was an isolated Sith on an Outer Rim world. As so many Sith apprentices did, she had murdered her own Master, Lord Baras, years ago and she had no alliances. There were far more dangerous and strategically located Sith Lords in the galaxy then. The Jedi could not spare anyone to challenge with Yarr for some time."
Obi-Wan nodded and lowered his eyes. Qui-Gon though he might fall asleep but his blue-gray eyes opened again. "How did Darth Yarr make the people love her?"
Gazing down at his apprentice, Qui-Gon chose his answer carefully, the answer that ObiWan or any other curious Padawan would never be allowed to read or view by themselves in the Jedi Archives.
"Yarr was known for being attractive, even social; people are drawn to confidence and power and she had those in abundance. She did use the Force to influence minds, but more often she seduced them. Sith prize and acquire power over everything. Yarr measured her power by the love of her people. Love was the weapon she favored best. She flattered her subjects, gave them food and gifts, protected them, crushed their enemies. When she ruthelessly punished them, they would fault themselves, not any injustice in Sith law, and try harder to please her. Their gratitude and adoration fed her lust for power.
"She also literally seduced them; she was a woman of strong appetites with dozens of lovers at any one time. She often inspired them to fight for her, either in competitions for her favor, or against anyone who might challenge her. But in the end,Yarr always won these contests, often with her champions dying with her name on their lips."
Beyond the thin, pale curtains and the veranda garden, the sun hung low over the plains and the sea beyond them. It was the same landscape in the time of Darth Yarr, accurately preserved in the Living History Lands. But Qui-Gon could not see into the past when Sith and Jedi fought in wars between Dark and Light. That past seemed unimaginably distant and his words empty of their true meaning. He had no experience of those times, no living Jedi did. And his meditations in this place had only left him empty of any insight into them. But his life experience had shown him why the Dark path could be attractive, desirable under the right conditions.
"Yarr was reputed to have said that love was the greatest power in the Universe. Even greater than the Force. But her love was one of possession, greed and deception. And in the end her version of love brought her down just as much as the Dark Side did." He looked down at his Padawan.
Obi-Wan's eyes were closed, his breathing even and slow. Reaching out a hand, Qui-Gon brushed the young Jedi's cheek, his fingers trailing on the Padawan's braid laying on the white pillow. He did not stir.
Sitting back and folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe, Qui-Gon again looked out the window to the horizon for a meditation focus.
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There were voices.
Obi-Wan recognized one of them as Qui-Gon. Not loud, calm. And the other one was . . .. cheerful . . . Healer Mwassil? The voices faded back again. The silence dragged on.
"Hhh!?" He started awake. Everything looked different, curving pale wood above, artificial light, dark shadows; the ceiling and walls were gray . . .
"Hhh!?" Flinching away from the sudden touch, he turned his head and his Master withdrew his hand. Embarrassed that he had been startled, he settled back on the pillow. Qui-Gon smiled down at him.
"Would you like something to eat?"
The malaise and dizziness had faded. He did not feel nauseous at least, and he supposed he needed to eat. The windows of the apartment were black. It was night, but he could not tell how late it was. He nodded.
Qui-Gon left and Obi-Wan pushed the blankets back. His Master returned with a tray; he must have had it ready. Putting it down for a moment, he rearranged the pillows so Obi-Wan could sit up properly before placing the meal before him. A bowl of warm stew with chopped green leaves spinkled on the surface, some fairly bland crackers, sliced fruits and berries from the garden and water.
Obi-Wan picked up the spoon while Qui-Gon sat down next to him.
"Chancellor Mwetta has announced a four day delay in the celebrations. The Healers have their quarantine. Healer Mwassil is very pleased."
His mouth full, Obi-Wan stared back and then swallowed. "Will the History Play be canceled then?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. Only delayed. Apparently one of the dancers who left the auditions yesterday complained that it was because he was feeling unwell, though his status is unconfirmed. And there have been more individual cases of the serphrada virus in the other Living History Lands. Not an epidemic and the Healers are eager to keep it that way. Venerate Custodian Tykon has informed me that Director Tykon has sequestered himself with his writers and composers to use the time to improve the Play."
Obi-Wan nodded and continued eating. The food made him feel better, his head clearer as he thought about Tykon and his Play, Yana and the other performers. A film of crumb-dust covered his fingertips as he broke the crackers into the stew. When he with the meal, he wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin, making sure that he had not left any crumbs on the coverings. Qui-Gon took the tray away.
Instead of leaving, he stopped at the curving wood columns by the lift.
"I need to report to the Jedi Council about the delay. Will you need anything before I go?"
"Master." He pushed himself up and winced from a slight tilt of dizziness before continuing. "If people are drawn to a leader, even if they are abused, is it the Dark Side that they are drawn to?"
Qui-Gon folded his arms into the sleeves of his dark brown robe. "Only if that leader is using the Force is the Dark Side truly involved, which is very rare. Otherwise, their relationship is simply unhealthy."
"Then would you say that Director Tykon's relationship with his performers is unhealthy?"
His Master's eyes widened and looked aside as if there was an answer in a corner of the room. Obi-Wan waited.
"I had not noticed the similarity until you asked," he admitted, stepping onto the lift and activated it. "We will meditate on this tomorrow." He disappeared into the floor with a thoughtful smile on his lips. The lift hatch closed flush to the floor.
Alone, Obi-Wan slumped back down onto the pillows.
= = = End Part 13