LIVING HISTORY
by ardavenport
= = = Part 20
Qui-Gon gaped back at her. He could remember every detail with a clarity beyond the capacity of memory. But he did not know what it meant, the sudden vision. He looked about the room. Dark or Light, places could retain the essence of the Force, an imprint of life that could last much longer than the time since Darth Yarr's fall. And people who used the Force could perceive than imprint.
With a clear mind, a Jedi could devine the source of that life energy and its true nature. But Qui-Gon had meditated on it in the apartment above for days and felt nothing. It was strange; he had been expecting some lingering traces of Yarr's ancient presence and defeat, but there was nothing, as if it had never happened. Ir was possible that he was not strong enough in the Force to sense the imprint of the fall of that long ago darkness, but he had been on missions before he had taken Obi-Wan as his apprentice to much older Sith lairs and had no trouble meditiating on and seeing the aural traces of their distant events and people.
Darkness in the Force could cloud a Jedi's senses and judgement, but the murk of evil could be sensed even if what it concealed could not be, if the Dark Side was present at all. It was the difference between a fog that concealed a threat and a clear day in a place where there was nothing to see.
Qui-Gon ignored Sebo's question, sat back, his legs folded under him and closed his eyes.
Sebo did not ask again. Eventually, she got up and walked away. There was the sound of movement by the walls and he shut the noise out, his focus turned inward. He let all thoughts drop away, even the purpose of his deep meditation, so that his sense of time itself left him. The Force, neither Dark not Light stretched out as a clean, unbroken plane, under and around him, blindingly blue-white and untroubled by the opaque patches of life in the world flowing through it. It was bliss and he felt himself as one of those countless entities, endlessly forming, growing thick and complex before dispersing into new beings. Except . . . .
. . . . Jedi only truly joined the Force at death. Until then, they lived in the material world and Qui-Gon's body weighed him down back with its needs. He inhaled and the Force flowed through his body and limbs and in that instant the weight of a whole planet would be nothing to him. But he did not need to lift planets.
He exhaled, letting his perception of it go, releasing the conscious connection. Feeling his own weight on his legs, folder under him on the hard stone floor, he opened his eyes and then climbed to his feet.
Sebo was gone. The room was not the same. The chairs, benches and tables were lined up along the walls, some of them broken. Some statues lay on the floor, loose pieces swept up next to them. There was a few severed heads, broken hands, fingers and male phalluses. Behind him, the large table on the elevated end of the room was broken in two, the chairs around it damaged, but put back upright.
A side door opened and Sebo emerged wearing her usual pale yellow tunic and shawl. She walked over to him while he walked about, surveying the wreckage. Spotting his lightsaber he raised a hand . . .
. . . . and then lowered it. Calling it to him with the Force seemed unnecessary. He knelt to pick it up, put it on his belt. Sebo faced him when he rose again.
"The Jedi are legendary for their meditations. Now I know why."
He straightened his robe and folded his hands before him. "I am sorry to have inconvenienced you."
She smiled as if he had made a joke. "Inconvenience? I do not know what to call what happened here, but that is not it." She huffed to herself, looking about at the disarray in the room. "Can you answer my question now?"
"Your question?"
"What did you see?" Her tone turned intense.
"I saw . . . the Dark Side. And then . . . it vanished."
"The Dark Side. What does the Dark Side look like?"
"It is desire, fire and passion beyond all reason and disregard for anything else but that. It is fear and hatred of any other life that may challenge or compete with those things. And it is the complete and unrestrained pleasure in the creation, the torment and the destruction of enemies."
Sebo's eyes went wide with wonder. "I see."
"No, you do not." Qui-Gon sharp retort made her jump and she backed up. "This," stalked in a circle around her, waving an arm at the room, "Is a memorial to evil. The Sith are not to be venerated. They were and the Dark Side is evil." He bent close to her ear and she jerked away. "The Jedi Council would have come to claim Yarr's artifacts a long time ago had they known that you not only kept them but also maintained this shrine to her." He paced around behind Sebo. "Are you aware of the history of any other Sith, other than this romantic fantasy that you live in? The worlds they destroyed? The levels of degradations inflicted on their victims?"
He came around to her front. She might have looked less pathetic to him if he sensed any darkness, but he did not.
"No," she admitted. "My allegiance is to this world alone. But you just told me that you saw the Dark Side vanish." She smiled again and he saw the religious gleam in her eyes that she had shown him in her Darth Yarr costume. "Or banished. By Nirid when she renounced the Force for her love."
Qui-Gon stared down at her. The Dark Side banished? . . . . that was exactly what he had felt. But once the Dark took hold, it never let go of those it corrupted. The path to the Dark Side went beyond any vice and any addiction. Those who embraced the Sith were consumed by it.
"That is not possible," he answered, but he could not keep the doubt out of his voice.
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"May we sit here?"
Obi-Wan automatically slid aside to make room, though there was plenty. Noboday sat next to him on the bench. Across the table from him, the expressions of Yana, Jutwa and Timoz turned frosty over their midday meal plates. The newcomer was a male, similer to Timoz but slimmer with longer blond hair. Another performer, a woman took a seat on the bench next to him.
"Hello! I'm Adie Tykon-Tuzi." She had a broad smile, blue eyes, brown skin like Yana and pale blond hair, straight, hanging a little past her shoulders. "This is Lasru Trimwi." She touched her friend's shoulder.
"Hello." Obi-Wan nodded to them before glancing over his shoulder, looking for Qui-Gon. It was already past midday and he was beginning to wonder if his Master's warning from the day before still applied. If he could not locate Qui-Gon by the end of the day should he contact the Jedi Temple? Obi-Wan had already decided that he would, but he sincerely wished to know what to tell them. He only saw the workers in tan and gray tunics, guiding lifters of equipment, setting up towers of lights and fixtures he did not recognize. No Qui-Gon. Yana, Timoz and Jutwa averted their eyes when he turned back.
All of the performers wore the Nirid costume, a long tunic over a lighter-colored, floor-length under tunic in coarsely-woven pale brown colors, like sand, belted at the waist with a dark brown strap and plain sandals of similar material. The tunic hems and sleeves were decorated with a dark blue and white square pattern. The Keth and the Darth Yarr costumes had been more fitted to the body; it had tended to make them all look the same. But the drab, shapeless Nirid costume seemed to bring out all their differences, particularly for the men with broad-shoulders like Jutwa or the women with prominent chests, like Yana.
"Have you ever participated in a Play like this?" Adie asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, but my Master has. A holo-drama on Coruscant, years before I became his apprentice."
All of the performers perked up at this news. Obi-Wan put his eating utensil down. Yana leaned forward over the remains on her plate, her brown eyes wide. "Really? Which one?"
"Um," Obi-Wan's brow furrowed, trying to recall the name of the holo-drama that Qui-Gon first mentioned when they were traveling to Maarzim, "Um . . . uh, it was called 'Skyways'. But I haven't seen it." His Master hadn't seen it either. Yana gasped. Timoz and Jutwa joined her with Adie and Larsu adding their own expressions of recognition and amazement.
"'Skyways'?" Yana breathed.
"That's one of the holos about Jedi that we studied for our pre-auditions," Adie joined her. "Roetee Zhazem was brilliant in it."
"Did he work with Roetee Zhazem?" Timoz asked in awe.
"Is he in the holo?" Not waiting for an answer, Jutwa looked to his friends. "There were other Jedi in the scene when the hover-platform crashed."
"And at the dinner with the flatulent Gremstor," Larsu added.
"Master Brak'cha was one of Zhazem's last great roles. She practically ran away with the whole story," Adie continued. "She just broke your heart at the end and she did all the action scenes herself." Adie and Larsu looked toward Obi-Wan on the bench next to them.
"I haven't seen it," he repeated.
"You could watch it with us," Yana suggested quickly as if she was trying to beat the others to it. "All our living areas have holo-projectors, so we can study when we're not practicing or auditioning."
"I think there is a holo-projector up in the tower." Aside from the conveniences in the food prep area, Sebo had also shown him the cabinets containing the coms, the public holo-net receiver as well as a large holo-projector system.
A gasp from Adie caught his attention and he turned his head to where she was looking. Qui-Gon descended the stairway down from the gallery and strode across the large hall toward them. But he was intercepted by Pecku and Eris Mwat and a large round man with a tan tunic draped over his bulging belly. They conferred and then Qui-Gon looked over the heads of the other two. He raised a hand.
"I have to go." He was up and out of his seat before they could say anything, but he caught a fleeting glance of their nods and wary stares at his Master. He ran over to them.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon gestured to the two others. "Please assist Pecku and Mwat in their preparations. I will be in the tower, meditating."
"Yes, Master," he answered automatically.
"My Padawan will assist you in whatever you need." Qui-Gon nodded and left, quickly crossing the floor and sweeping back up the wide staircase, leaving four astonished people behind. Pecku shrugged and turned to Obi-Wan.
"Well, we don't really need both of you for this. We've completed most of the physical structure for the stage and we're working on the viewing platforms."
"The viewing platforms?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Where you'll sit. Along with the new Chancellor, her staff and guests, the Castle Venerates and staff." Pecku explained. "This is Gunlan Thwurn," he extended a hand to the large man, who had pale, pink cheeks and thinning gray hair. "He is in charge of all stage structures and can explain the arrangements."
Thwurn pulled out a holo-projector and held it up in one large, meaty hand, a bluish miniature of the completed construction appeared as he started out a narration of the arrangements in a thick, low voice. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan glimpsed Qui-Gon disappearing from the gallery on his way up to the tower apartment.
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Obi-Wan returned to the apartment just before sundown, intruding on Qui-Gon's meditation. The sky was partially overcast, but clear on the horizon and the golden light from Maarzim's primary star shone on all the pale wooden surfaces casting a warm yellow hue to even out the room's shadows. A fresh breeze rustled among the plants outside. The air in the main castle was dull and artificial compared to the nature-scented atmosphere in the apartment high above it.
Qui-Gon had gained no new insights from long still hours with the Force; he sat on the padded bench in his sleeping area. His Padawan approached carefully.
Opening his eyes, Qui-Gon unfolded his legs and slid off the bench.
"Did the auditions go well?"
"Yes, Master. At least the performers are enthusiastic about the new parts because of the changes in the Play. And they have begun construction of the viewing platforms where we will be seated."
"Indeed." Qui-Gon nodded and went to the food prep area as they spoke. Sebo had come up to pick the day's produce before she called him before their meeting. There was less than the day before, the garden designed to support only one person, but there was plenty of food to choose from in the cabinets and cold storage unit. Qui-Gon picked out a short stack of grain flats and looked in some drawers for the utensils. "Did you approve of the arrangements?"
Obi-Wan looked a little uncertain as he opened the drawer with the utensils in it. "Yes. I saw no reason not to. We will be seated separately and presented to the audience during the preamble for the Play. We and all the officials will be in view of whole audience during the performance, except during the intermission half way through. The audience will be served refreshment in other parts of the Castle and in the outside gardens. We will have separate refreshments in a separate room with the Castle Venerates. There will be floater platforms to take us there from the viewing towers."
Qui-Gon opened the cool storage unit and picked out a container of sauce. Cracking the lid, he deemed the savory aroma acceptable and put it in the heating unit. "I presume that we will ascend to the towers by floater as well?"
"Yes, Master." He picked out some fruits and vegetables from the basket on the counter and after a nod from Qui-Gon began cutting them up onto a serving platter.
Picking a couple of long vegetables, Qui-Gon began slicing them, leaving a purple oily residue on the cutting surface and his hands. They had a sour, spicy smell. He scooped them all into a heating bowl and replaced the now-hot sauce with it in the heating unit. Going to the water dispenser and tub, he ran it over his hands, rubbing a slab of a solid cleaser on them. The apartment did not have any modern sanitizers. Obi-Wan finished with the serving tray and he took it to the table with plate of grain flats. He remained thoughtfully silent as he retrieved cups of water for both of them and Qui-Gon brought the heated food and the plates and utensils for their meal.
"Master," Obi-Wan paused as Qui-Gon took a couple of grain flats. "Was your meeting with Sebo productive?"
"No. It only added more information that I cannot explain." Qui-Gon ignored his apprentice's questioning eyes. Obi-Wan knew he could not ask for more and he did not, at least not about what Sebo had told him.
"If you are in any meetings like that and I cannot locate you for too long, should I still contact the Jedi Temple?"
Qui-Gon looked at his apprentice critically. This question seemed to be more aimed at fishing for information that was forbidden to him than a true inquiry. His eating utensil tapped against his plate. Obi-Wan lowered his eyes and Qui-Gon sighed, relenting. Jedi Padawans were instructed to not speculate unnecessarily, but that was not a realistic edict when there were too many unknowns.
"I do not forsee any dangers. However, that would be a wise precaution to take." He served himself some vegetables and sauce. "With the delay from the quarantine, we will be here for several more days. Tomorrow will be the Minigan auditions. Then the final auditions on the next day. Then the day when the performers will be assigned their parts in the Play. After that will be three days of rehersals when we will not be needed."
"Uh, we will be required to participate in a rehersal of the introduction of the Play on the last day," Obi-Wan broke in around a mouth full of food.
Qui-Gon nodded and picked up his water. "Then we will be there. The next day will be the presentation of the Play. We will be leaving on a transport after presenting ourselves at the celebration. We will have Darth Yarr's artifacts in a sealed container."
"Will I . . ." Obi-Wan started cautiously. "Learn more about Darth Yarr when we are back at the Temple?"
Qui-Gon now smiled at this almost shy inquiry. Back at the Temple there would be more Masters and the Jedi Council to admonish him much more severely for asking about Sith.
"I believe you will learn as much as you need to from the History Play."
= = = End Part 20