Part Nineteen
Upon reflection, the bounty hunters seemed to have some skill and forethought. After the failed attempt in the air taxi, they had some experience with Jedi and had clearly taken their time researching what the quasi-religious order could do. The result was the use of high velocity plastic explosives ringed around the apex of the domed ceiling of the courtroom. This may have sounded simple, even juvenile, until one realized the hidden brilliance of the plan.
As the hunks of duracrete and live wires and insulation and drywall and broken ductwork and plumbing lines and other bits that Obi-Wan had learned about in his time of construction plummeted down, all four Jedi in the room reached up to the Force and caught the several tons of debris. The problem, the lynchpin of the trap, was that they had nowhere to put it. The courtroom was filled with people, and all the people were panicking; they were shrieking and running into one another and climbing over chairs and knocking each other aside. No one space in the room stayed clear for more than a few seconds as more and more people tried to leave the room. This forced the Jedi to simply hold all that debris over everyone's heads - perpetuating the panic and leaving the four fixed in one task - and more importantly - helpless to the attackers' next move.
Obi-Wan, holding his share of debris, kept his eyes open as he scanned the newly made hole, trying to spy what would happen next. He had one advantage the other three did not, he did have a place to lower the destruction safely too. Being at the center of the room, he had more to hold, but he also was at the center of the room, meaning he had immediate access to the only place that was regularly clear of people. He only had himself, the judge, the prosecution, and the defense. The other fifteen square meters of the area was blank of any obstruction - the better for the litigators to stage their questioning or present evidence. Strained with holding the rubble, he snapped his eyes to the others. Prosecution and defense were already up in the chairs and the aisles, looking for retreat. The judge was still at his podium, struggling to leave but too scared to get his legs moving.
Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan moved his hand over to point at the judge and lift him up off of is podium, the man giving a petrified shriek and pierced at Obi-Wan nerves, but he held firm, guiding him through the air and to the nearest aisle before dropping him a few feet above the ground. That task settled, Obi-Wan reached up to the rubble over his head and started guiding it down as fast as he could to the now empty center.
The other three masters were still negotiating their rubble, trying to find someplace to set it down so they could concentrate on other matters.
"I'm the only one free, then," Obi-Wan muttered. "Just as they'd planned I suppose."
"Kenobi!" Dooku growled. "Take mine!"
And suddenly a lightsaber was spinning end over end through the dusty air, Obi-Wan reaching out to the Force to catch it. The blue blade ignited in his hand, and it was as if the last year had never happened in a way; the beam of light completed him as he hadn't been since he'd lost his old one in the generator complex, and he knew exactly what to do.
He leapt up the hundred meters to the edge of the ceiling, a hand reaching out and grabbing the edge of the hole and he easily hoisted himself up. There was no one to see, but sensing was a different matter entirely. He had spent a year working on his connection to the Living Force, and he now reaped the benefit of his efforts. With abandon he ran full tilt to the end of the narrow maintenance corridor he had found himself in, taking rights and lefts without any thought to why he was taking them, and bursting out into some kind of control center, a small room with banks of computers and control nexuses. One man stood in vaguely Mandelorian armor, a human tech of some kind helplessly in front of him, blaster digging into his neck.
"I suppose this is our first official meeting," Obi-Wan said dryly. "Good work on the air taxi, I suppose, and even this has some sign of skill, but as you've yet to kill me I'm forced to concede that you must not be very good."
"On the contrary," the bounty hunter said. "It all went according to plan."
Obi-Wan frowned, trying to understand. The Unifying Force was screaming in his head about darkness, more nonsensical things like, He will birth the warriors, and Darkness will betray him, and Be wary of the child. He didn't understand any of it, save that this bounty hunter, like Anakin, had a touch of destiny in him. None of that helped him know why his death wasn't on the agenda.
"Who are you working for?" he asked, mentally shoving the confusion aside and looking instead at the hostage, biding time until the other Jedi joined him. "I doubt it's the Litigators, they have a much more subtle reputation. What do your employer gain with having me dead?"
"Pretty egotistical for a Jedi," the Mandalorean bounty hunter said, "Thinking you're the target."
Insight finally struck. "You wanted a mistrial," Obi-Wan accused.
"Just business, you understand," the bounty hunter said. "Now, I have an exit to make and credits to collect."
"You're not going to escape," Obi-Wan said.
"I have a hostage," the bounty hunter answered, "Just what do you think is going to happen?"
"Just this," Obi-Wan reply, reaching out to the Force and yanking the blaster out of the would-be assassin's hand, bringing it to his own. The tech cried out and managed to wrench himself away from the bounty hunter, running away to safety. The Mandelorean lifted an arm, weapon readying, and a stream of fire erupted in the painfully small control room. Obi-Wan ducked backwards, spinning as he went and thrusting his leg out, tapping at the bounty hunter's shins with enough force to startle the man, and Obi-Wan used the distraction to kick his leg up, into the man's arm and knocking the flamethrower straight up, the fire igniting delicate wiring and control modules, forcing the bounty hunter to turn it off lest he catch himself in an explosion.
Obi-Wan flipped to his feet and swung his borrowed lightsaber, but the bounty hunter backed away, instead turning and running. Obi-Wan pursued, wondering what was taking Master Yoda and the others so long. The narrow quarters did not suite either fighter, Obi-Wan's strength was Form IV and it depended on being able to spin on all three axis of rotation. He did not want to fight that way in here, the memories of his master reminded him all too well that he had a Padawan of his own and he needed to go home to, and he refused to die here. Obi-Wan realized he would need to consider a different form when this was over. The bounty hunter, too, did not seem to be equipped for such close quarters, his arsenal was to explosive to risk firing anything.
Taking seemingly random lefts and rights, the Mandelorean suddenly dropped through an access way. Obi-Wan blindly followed suit and realized too late what a bad idea that was. He could see the bounty hunter doing something to the control console on one of his wrists and as soon as he landed he was electrocuted. The bounty hunter had a contingency plan, apparently, and had set the trap well before hand. His jetpack ignited and he hovered safely up in the air as the metal panels of the floor conducted electricity generated from a circle of devices the bounty hunter had planted.
Everything was on fire, Obi-Wan knew he was screaming, and he couldn't even think, everything burned and his entire body was jerking back and forth. He was no good like this, not to anybody, and especially not to Anakin. He would never get back to the boy if he couldn't solve something as simple as this and he knew somehow that he had been in worse scrapes than this and he had to do something!
And arm managed to swing out and down, and somehow Obi-Wan had managed to slice Dooku's lightsaber through one of the small generators. His body continued to jerk and spasm, and Obi-Wan struggled to retain any kind of control over his body. Another swing almost missed, but he was able to destroy another of the devices, and the third went down in the next. That gave him much more control, and he was able to take out the last two in one swing.
The Mandelorean bounty hunter had not wasted time waiting to see what he would do, the man was several hundred meters up in the air, reaching a higher roofline. Obi-Wan was good, but not that good, but he ran towards the edge of the platform he was on, planning a route up the sheer vertical of the building, knowing that he would not be fast enough but trying anyway.
"Kenobi!"
His head jerked to he side and there was Dooku, driving and air-car confiscated from somewhere, and Obi-Wan leapt without a thought up and into the chasse. "There!" he said, pointing to the roofline he had seen the bounty hunter disappear over. "If we hurry we can catch him!"
Dooku gave him an odd look but complied, engaging the thrusters and climbing altitude until they crested the roof.
Obi-Wan's body was in a tight knot. He had never felt like this before and yet he knew that this was the Living Force that had so consumed his master. Every detail, every change of motion, every blinking light and traffic horn was assaulting his senses, he was overwhelmed with input, and yet he knew exactly what he was looking for, the distinctive flare of that jetpack, a trail of smoke a burst of ignited fuel...
There!
"There!" he shouted, pointing. Dooku gunned the engine and they sped off northeast to that pinprick of life. The bounty hunter had an extraordinary lead on them, that pack was more powerful than Obi-Wan had estimated but no match for the larger engine of an air-car. They gained on him in minutes and Obi-Wan leapt out of the chasse when the Force told him to, deaf to Dooku's voice and landed in a tight roll on a roof-landing pad. The Mandelorean was headed for an oddly shaped space transport, and Obi-Wan begged the Force for speed and ran towards him full tilt. The bounty hunter turned and fire with a blaster, but Obi-Wan blocked it without any kind of thought, legs pumping as he gained ground. He skidded to a halt at the base of the onramp, the bounty hunter on its apex.
"I told you," Obi-Wan said, suddenly aware he was panting, "You're not going to escape."
"You're pretty good for a Jedi-reject," the bounty hunter said, and it was a testament to how deep Obi-Wan was drinking of the Force that the jibe didn't even register in his mind. "But," he added, in an odd mockup of Obi-Wan's voice, "as you've yet to capture me I'm forced to concede that you must not be very good."
"Obi-Wan! Run!"
Obi-Wan managed only two steps back before one of the defense blasters of the ship fired, heavy ordinance exploding under his feet and sending Obi-Wan flying. Something struck his head and stars burst in front of his vision as pain flared along his arm and hip. He might have been rolling, he wasn't sure. There were jumbled sensations of being carried, maybe someone calling his name, or was he still rolling from the concussive blast?
Then came the darkness.
The next thing he was fully aware of was staring up at his master's face. And, somehow, one little piece made sense.
"This... is real, isn't it? It's... always been real."
"So you've finally realized it, have you? Anakin was a bit quicker; but then he doesn't have preconceived notions about ghosts."
Everything felt disjointed. Hadn't he been rolling across a rooftop? Was that before or after he was chasing a Mandelorian with a jetpack? The sensation of the swell of the Living Force filtered through his mind, out of synch, and Obi-Wan groaned at the memory. "Qui-Gon..." he moaned. "How on earth do you keep everything straight when you're like that?"
The blue-tinged face gave a warm smile. "You simply need practice, Obi-Wan. The key to it is focus, and yours is one of the best." The image smiled again, reaching down to run his fingers through Obi-Wan's tousled hair, but he felt no sensation. "You gave my master quite a fright. Padme, too. She's already planning on yelling at you when she sees you."
"... Master," Obi-Wan said mind skittering from one thought to the next, "I'm sorry... I failed you last year and..."
"Shh, shh, here and now Padawan mine. You forget what I said earlier it seems, and so I will repeat: 'You are strong and wise, Obi-Wan, and I am very proud of you. Very proud of you.' And, I might add, you seem to make me more proud with every day that passes."
That made no sense whatsoever. Obi-Wan shook his head in denial, trying to refute the claim, but Qui-Gon just kept smiling as he put a finger to the former Jedi's lips, begging his quiet.
"Just because you don't realize it yet doesn't mean it isn't true; and you will see it with time. Rest, now. Your body needs it."
Obi-Wan didn't completely understand that, either, but he had the sense of time passing, and when he next opened his eyes he felt significantly more drugged. And stiff. And sore.
And distinctly like he was in a lot of trouble given the way that Master Dooku and Padme were staring down at him. Why were they staring down? He was in a medical cot. ... Why? Then memories of the bounty hunter filled his mind and he remembered the ship's defense blasters and the explosion. "... Oh dear," he muttered.
For the next two hours Padme gave Obi-Wan one or two pieces of her mind; generally revolving around the ideas of "waiting for back up," "running off into danger," "not thinking about Anakin," "the idiocy of going one-on-one against a spaceship," and other minor details. Obi-Wan took it with appropriate grace and humiliation, eyes downcast, until Padme finally took a breath and he quickly interjected,
"Would you have done any differently, Your Majesty?" which sent her stomping off and muttering creative phrases under her breath. Panaka bowed as he left, a brief grin on his face at the conquering of his queen, but said nothing as he trailed after her, diligent in his duty.
He turned to the reticent Dooku. "How long have I been out?"
"Thirty-six hours."
"I see. Nothing serious, I suppose, given such a short time."
"A broken arm and a dislocated hip in conjunction with your various contusions."
Obi-Wan nodded, rubbing his face. There was stubble there. He needed to shave. "The bounty hunter?"
"Escaped."
Obi-Wan nodded again. "Qui-Gon was right. I need more training," he murmured to himself.
Dooku raised an eyebrow, a question clearly written on his face. Obi-Wan tried to shrug it off, still uncomfortable with the very idea - still trying to reconcile that it wasn't all just a dream, let alone talking about it. He decided to bypass it entirely. "I've never had much connection to the Living Force, even with Qui-Gon as my master. I've been working for the last year to be more open to it, and I suppose the work has paid off a little, given that every reaction I had during that chase was a result of the Living Force." Obi-Wan offered a good-natured grin. "Given that I allowed myself to be electrocuted and blown up I obviously need more practice." But Qui-Gon had given him a hint, and he had an idea on how to implement it. If he needed work on his focus... and a new saber style... Form III perhaps...
"You seem to have very interesting standards of acceptability," Dooku said.
Obi-Wan raised his own eyebrow in question, but Dooku said no more, preferring to look at him intently. The attention made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, and he shifted in his cot before looking away, embarrassed; he tried to change the subject. "The bounty hunter said his goal was to declare a mistrial. Has that happened?"
"Two hours ago," Dooku said, a deep, disapproving frown on his face. "Her Majesty was... very vocal in her opinion of the matter."
"And she calls me to task for acting rashly," Obi-Wan mumbled, rubbing the stubble around his chin. "It was inevitable, I suppose," he said to Dooku. "I shall have to withhold my enthusiasm until the next trial, when we can all go through this again."
"Assuming you are even called to the stand and your testimony is not discounted," Dooku said, some faint hint of disdain in his voice. Obi-Wan frowned again. The man was always so reticent, to see even that small fraction of emotion was significant. Was he invested in the outcome of the trial? Why? Some sense of justice to his old Padawan?
"Do not worry for his path," Qui-Gon's voice said softly, startling the former Jedi. "His is one he needs to decide for himself. I think you'll find that he will surprise you. Rest, Obi-Wan. You've a long flight back to Naboo."
The command seemed to remind him how tired he was, and he sank back into the sheets. "Yes," he murmured. "I can finally go home..."
Home to Naboo...
Home to Anakin...
Home to his fami...
He slept.
Author's Notes: It took forever. Is it really worth saying anymore?
We pulled a little bit here and there for the fight. Jango Fett was the obvious (?) choice, Sidious having hired him to get a mistrial and perpetuate the decay of the Republic. There was the air taxi fight, the fight with Jango and Mace, and... something else from the movie that I can't quite remember. Obi-Wan continues to p0wn people, even if Jango won in the end he'll be that much more nervous about facing a Jedi. And he finally realized that Qui-Gon's been talking to him for the entire fic. Took him long enough. Not much to say for this.
Next Chapter: An epilogue