LIVING HISTORY
by ardavenport
= = = Part 23
They returned to the apartment before sunset. The auditions seemed to have gone well. Tykon did not request that either of them use their lightsabers again; the subject never came up again, as if it or the confrontation had not happened.
After the auditions, he and Qui-Gon had eaten at their solitary small table and the performers and even the musicians, props and costume technicians avoided looking their way. Obi-Wan caught Yana's eye a few times, but she always looked away and she did not return any of his gestures under the table. There was too much fear. He did not like it. It seemed so unnecessary.
His Master was unrepentant about influencing Tykon, though he agreed that the result had been unfortunate. And after being attacked, Obi-Wan could not now say that he was entirely wrong to have done it. A very nervous Eris Mwat had shown them around the stage, the back stage, the orchestra section and the completed platform where they would be seated. Qui-Gon had raised a hand and almost influenced Mwat to be more calm, but a warming glare from Obi-Wan had stopped him.
They took their robes off and hung them over the chairs in the eating area before they heard footsteps outside. In her pale yellow outfit, Sebo entered with a basket laden with fresh fruit, vegetables and a few nuts.
"I won't be coming tend the garden," she told them as she put her basket on the table. "I will be helping with the rehearsals and of course, presenting the Mystery to the thesps tomorrow." She turned to face them. "In fact, I may not be returning to this place ever again."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "Will you be forbidden from returning then? After your Mystery is revealed in the Play?"
She shook her head, her hands clasped before her. "No. I just may not want to come back." She went to the lift. "The Castle staff will tend the gardens while you are here. They will not disturb you." She took her place on the lift in the center of the circle of curved pillars.
"And if you wish to change your mind about your part in the Play, you will be welcome at any time at the rehearsals. Any time." She smiled invitingly.
Qui-Gon shook his hear. "No, I do not believe I will be
She shrugged, unoffended by his rejection. "I told Director Tykon, and Smetin and Aka, that I would ask again." She reached into a pocket for the lift control, but Qui-Gon held up a hand.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon turned to him, "would you please tell Sebo what you saw during your meditation while I was examining the transport arrangements for Darth Yarr's artifacts?"
Surprised, he opened his mouth without speaking. It was very unusal to share such things with non-Jedi, but Qui-Gon nodded his head in ascent. So, he told Sebo about his vision, described the woman with the baby, dressed like her, surrendering her baby before vanishing into the cold.
Sebo's eyes teared up as he spoke, her hands clutched before her. She wiped her nose on her shawl but did not speak for a time.
"Thank-you, Master Qui-Gon. You Jedi see through all our hidden doors and moving walls and distractions right to our Mysteries." She fumbled in her pocket for the lift control again before she descended into the floor and was gone.
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The air in Tamwa Hall was thick with anticipation. The desire and fear in the performers washed over Qui-Gon as he waited with Obi-Wan and the other members of the Creative Committee. They stood on the stage. The anti-gravs had been activated so even though he felt as if he was standing on solid ground, the rest of the room was weirdly tilted toward him. The performers stood in the orchestra area, their faces nervously upturned toward them. The morning light dimmed as each of the tall windows of Tamwa Hall was covered and blacked out. Custodian Tykon stood at stage center, Sebo at her side.
Finally all the outside light was gone, the doors and archways closed, the only remaining light coming from a row of glowing golden dots at the edge of the stage. When the room was finally silent, Tykon took in a long breath, the performers following the rise of her huge bosom with increasing anticipation.
"You have all peformed well. And we thank-you for your hard work and dedication. The Committee has made its choices and are agreed. But - - "
An arc of dread cut through the anticipation.
" - - your places in the History Play cannot be revealed without revealing part of the Mystery itself. So, we must retire to Acren Hall, the true place of Darth Yarr's defeat. - - "
The performers exhaled with a muffled moan of disappointment. Their waiting would be prolonged.
" - - Be you all warned that this is a scared place. Acren Hall holds more Mysteries than Yarr's and it is not to be revealed by any of you. You will learn your places and you will rehearse the play there. The Custodians of this Castle will lead you there now and you will not leave until the final day of rehersals."
Over forty of the Castle staff stood at the back of the rows of performers. Now they took out black hoods and sorted them into groups of five or six. And not just the performers went. Falgan and his staff, technicians and musicians were hooded and lined up as well into little lines of people, led by a custodian with blind followers firmly gripping the waist of the person before them and herded along by one or two others in pale blue tunics. They were reasonably efficient with organizing it all, but with so many groups and only one allowed to leave every few minutes the exodus took some time. The Creative Committee and Obi-Wan came last, solemnly following Custodian and Director Tykon through the corridors of the fortress. They reached the open courtyard of covered tables and bushes, then going inside the long corridor of colored windows and through the doorway into the stairwell.
Obi-Wan looked all around. His earlier tour of the Castle had obviously not included this place. They descended the stairwell and dutifully turned their backs as Custodian Tykon opened the door though Sebo gave Qui-Gon a sly look. They entered and she closed the door behind them.
Qui-Gon had found his own way the first time he entered. Now he followed the others down the dark corridors and turns. They followed Sebo down the halls, around the corners, back the way they had come, single file. When they came to the false door, they had to turn around again while Sebo went down the final corridor. They finally emerged through the concealed door into Acren Hall.
It was quite full of people and Qui-Gon heard a gentle whir of air recyclers from overhead. Nearly everyone still had their hoods on, even some of the Castle staff, the ones in the palest, lowest-ranking blue tunics and robes. The lights hanging from the ceiling were at half-brightness. They filed around the crowd, passing the alcove statues, which had been either replaced or repaired, and up onto the stage at the head of the room. Their heavy footsteps roused the hooded crowd, though there were no voices or whispers. They took seats on the bench at the heavy wooden table with Custodian Tykon directing Obi-Wan to stand behind Qui-Gon's chair. The crack down the center of the table where it had broken was hardly visible.
Director Tykon took a position in the center of the raised platform. He nodded back to Custodian Tykon, seated at the end of the long table and the lights came up. A bell sounded three times. The hoods came off, performers and play crew and lower ranking Castle staff blinking, smoothing back ruffled hair.
"It is time for you to know the Mystery!"
At once, all the performers' eyes snapped to Director Tykon. Sebo stood, stepping away from the bench, the soft sounds of her clothes and then her light footsteps loud in the silence. She walked around the table and Tykon stepped aside for her. She suddenly spread her arms out, her palms upward.
"I am the Lady of the Tower, whose name was so dangerous it was taken from her, who grew old and died there before Cloras the First united this world again from the chaos after the fall of the Sith Lord. I am the keeper of her name. I hold the Mystery. I live her life."
Sitting at the table behind her, Qui-Gon watched Sebo spin her tale. It was the same as what he had heard, word for word. The story of Nirid. And Keth. Their love. Him leaving her behind on the planet. The Sith arriving. Yarr's rise. Keth's return. Keth's death. Yarr's fall. Minigan's fall.
He glanced back up at his apprentice whose eyes were wide with interest. Qui-Gon sighed. This version of Yarr's fall differed radically from the one in the Jedi Archives, the one he had recounted to Obi-Wan only a few days ago. He would have to explain the difference. But he had no explanation.
Sebo finished the story to the hushed crowd; it was a religious ritual and they were properly impressed and respectful. Even Director Tykon had not moved, staying at attention off to the side. When Sebo finally bowed and went back to sit behind the long table with the other members of the Creative Committee, Director Tykon took the stage again.
"Now you know. The parts of Nirid and Darth Yarr will be played by the same person." The crowd murmured its defuse reaction and fell silent as Tykon raised a hand held screen and began reading names.
"For the Chorus alone: Mastwa Flir, Hutra Yeoz, Zmela, Jutwa Eris . . ."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling the intensity of the reactions, inflated bubbles of anticipation bursting. These were the minor participants, the performers who would be reminded many times that it was still an honor to be participating in the History Play at all. Success was not found in hard work or learning or even wisdom. It was measured by being judged better than others. By beating them, climbing over them and pushing them out of the way to the most glory. Some of the performers cried out their anguish aloud, but the heartbreak of the silent ones was just as strong in the Force.
"For Shadow dancers alone: Greahshtrin Luru, Shurew . . . "
Qui-Gon had already heard the lists. Sebo had come before sunrise for him to attend and approve the final selections of the Creative Committee. There was only minor discussion about the Play parts. Director Tykon got his way on all of his choices. Qui-Gon acquiesced. As ugly and abusive the Director's methods were, they were the traditions of this world and the Jedi had no place to judge them, no matter how little they had to do with art, music or dance.
"For Chorus and Shadow Dancers: Herra Tooz, Alhren, Nak Mwenno . . ."
He wondered that any beauty could survive amidst all the fear. But it did. It even flourished.
"The role of first guard: Lasru Trimwi. The role of second guard: Yana Twarn. The role of third guard: Loodri . . ."
These were the minor roles, disappointing, but less so than the background parts. Someone yelped in elation. Another cried out the injustice.
"The part of Hulus: Mwatt."
The flares of fear and anguish had subsided leaving soaring joy from the few who had not been assigned the lesser roles.
"The part of Minigan: Zwarus Shwar."
"The part of Keth: Distah Mwul."
"The parts of Nirid and Yarr: Adie Tykon-Tuzi."
Qui-Gon opened his eyes. The performers had sorted themselves out. Losers in back, winners in front. The four leads stood proud and tall, two men, two women. One had sat at their table before the Jedi were separated from the performers, Adie Tykon-Tuzi, longish blond hair, brown skin, blue eyes wide with awe and gratitude focused entirely up at her tyrannical Director.
A gong sounded.
Standing up with the others, Qui-Gon bowed his acceptance of the presentation of the performers to the Venerates of the Creative Committee. Custodian Tykon spoke the formal words for them. The storms of tension in the room had broken, all the performaers' hopes and fears realized. Even the ones most heart-broken were relieved. The torturous waiting was over; they at least knew their places now.
Roobi Mwemas, Thwurn Aka and Quembu Smetin joined Ebsi Tykon and they descended from the raised platform to stand before their Play performers. With a nod from Sebo, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan followed the two senior Castle Venerates to the hidden entrance.
With all the Castle staff assembled, everyone turned their back as a senior Custodian opened the door. The performers and Play crew not only had their backs to them, their hands were up, covering their eyes.
They filed out, one at the time into the long narrow corridors with Custodian Tykon closing the door behind them. Sebo remained with the performers, Play crew, composers and Director Tykon in the secret room.
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"The next few days will be critical, Master Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan Kenobi followed behind his Master as Custodian Tykon explained what they were to do while the History Play was rehearsed as she walked with them on their way through the Castle back to the tower.
Apparently, they were to do nothing.
"Now that the shields have gone up, no one is allowed to leave until after the performance. Ugh." Custodian Tykon waved her hands, her gesture matching the exasperation in her tone. "There have already been breaches at three of the other Living History Lands. I am always appalled by how many people are willing to commit sacrilege and spoil the Mysteries, though my predecessor assured me that the problem used to be much worse.
"Of course we will make every effort, Master Qui-Gon, but I cannot guarantee that some of the spy-droids of the popular media won't get through. You see, that tower has always been a problem for us for any of these festivals. They do not happen very often as you can imagine - - Sebo has only reigned over three during her entire tenure - - and the Techs always give us a horrendous quote for shielding the tower, too, so we always end up sequestering Sebo in Acren Hall until it's all over.
"And naturally, we would offer you places in the protected towers vacated by all those thesps, but we need to ready suites for the officials who will be arriving the night before the Play. So, if you could be patient for a few more days - -"
Qui-Gon raised a reassuring hand to the woman. "Of course, Custodian Tykon. The accomodations in the tower are excellent, we will be happy to wait there. And if there are any intrusions, we are quite capable of handling them."
They passed into a windowless corridor that ran directly under the tower they spoke of.
"I believe that staying inside and going down below until they are driven out would be the best course, Master Qui-Gon. The law favors the public information media, inless they are caught directly over the Castle itself and then there is only a fine which is not nearly large enough." They emerged into the gallery over Tamwa Hall, now transformed into an enormous theater, the windows blocked, the entrances at ground level replaced with gateways that could be sealed. A decorative gate fenced off the stairway leading up to the gallery from the Hall below. The metalloid and stone-like facades had been styled after the ancient Hall, save for the conspicuous control panels and blinking status lights. If the new physical barriers were not enough the Castle Custodians were prepared to back them up with energy fields.
"We shall wait until you call on us the morning of the final rehersals." Qui-Gon bowed to her.
"Thank-you Master, Qui-Gon. Someone will be sent up every morning to tend the garden, but otherwise we will leave you and your apprentice undisturbed until then."
After both Jedi bowed a polite farewell to Tykon, Obi-Wan followed his Master up the long winding stairway back to the apartment. It was midday and they were both hungry. Someone had already been up to tend the plants and there was a basket of fresh food on the table. There were also fresh cleaning and washing cloths in the storage compartments and fresher, and newly cleaned coverings on the sleeping platforms. It looked nearly as it did when they first arrived.
"Master, is the Mystery true? Did Darth Yarr surrender her powers because she loved Keth? Was . . . ," Obi-Wan paused, drawing Qui-Gon's full attention, "was the woman I saw in my vision Nirid? And the baby?"
Qui-Gon sighed, lowering his eyes before looking up again. "She could not be. Sith do not renounce their power. Ever, Obi-Wan." He shook his head, his long hair hanging down over his shoulders. "I cannot account for the discrepancy between their version and the events recorded in the Jedi Archives." He stepped up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You must undertand, Obi-Wan, that the path to the Dark Side is all consuming. It is desire beyond reason, beyond purpose, beyond anything but the acquisition of power. Everything, every other goal, every cause, every person becomes subservient to that. And if people must suffer or die for that goal then the corrupting influence of the Dark Side convinces the Sith that this is good. Sith increase their power by imposing it on others. Do you understand, Obi-Wan?"
Looking back up into his Master's dark blue eyes, he nodded. "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon's lips curled in a sad smile. "No, you do not."
= = = End Part 23