[[Feb 2013: Few edits, nothing big. Spelling and grammar, mostly]]
Sorry for the silence, it's been longer than I intended. There was a death in my family, and so my access of the Internet has been restricted as of late (as the phone has been a vital tool). Anyway, I had a moment, so I thought I'd chuck this up.
By the way, I've just finished reading Death Star. It's a novel by Michael Reaves and Steve Perry and it's great; I really enjoyed it. It gives a bit of depth to the side of the Death Star not seen in the films – that of the civilians and workers onboard – and is a great story. Read it if you can.
Disclaimer: As always, no
Thank you for all the support of the first chapter. Personally I'm still a little wary of this story; and I'm not sure why. But if you like it, then I will keep writing!
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"Governor Dustin Illaryn?"
The question shook Illaryn out of his thoughts. It had been two or so hours since the transmission to the Temple, but now Illaryn saw that approaching him was who he had been waiting for: a human female, middle-aged, with long, tied back hair and calming eyes. She smiled, shaking his hand as she sat down next to him.
"I'm Jedi Master Thracia Cho-Leem. Master Windu told me a little of what happened, but you're the one who saw it. What did happen?"
Illaryn explained briefly about the trial and the death threats, his reasons for wanting Jedi guards and the incident with their speeder. He went on to explain, in as much detail as he could remember, the fight with the gang on the sky-bridge. Thracia listened quietly, and was silent for a moment after he finished.
"Would you know the symbol if you saw it again?"
Illaryn nodded. "I can see it perfectly; and I'd definitely recognize it again."
"Could you draw it?"
"Well, yes, I suppose," said Illaryn, slightly caught out by the suggestion. A moment later he was roughly sketching it on a piece of flimsy that Thracia had pulled out of a pocket deep in her robe. It did not take him long – the spheres, the grid, the 'S' and he added the slogan at the bottom. Thracia took the finished, if very rough, sketch and put it back in her pocket.
"Thank you, that's perfect – I'll scan it back and the Temple and search the Archives for a match. It's very helpful Governor, thank you again." She stood. "Can you now please show me where Obi-Wan fell?"
Illaryn nodded, leading her outside to the bridge. It was not difficult to find the place where the fight took place – not only was the speeder still there, burned and wrecked; the metal beneath their feet was covered in blast marks and carbon scoring. Illaryn walked over to the barrier, and looked over, not sure what he would find. The lower platform was a less used one, more like an alleyway under the overhang. From his position, Illaryn could see a body.
He pointed it out to Thracia, who looked down at it silently and solemnly. "Come on, Governor," she said quietly. "We'll need my speeder."
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"Over here, Master Cho-Leem."
Illaryn lead the way to the body, clad in the familiar robes of the Jedi Order. Thracia frowned sadly as she looked at the still figure and the blood on the ground; but then her senses peaked as she felt the Force nudging her, and a subtle, almost overlooked, ripple in the Force. A life-reading. This Jedi wasn't dead.
Kneeling down next to him, she gently turned the body over, from his side to his back, to reveal the face of the young man. Thracia knew both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, and liked them – they were a little strange, maybe, but then who wasn't? She placed a hand lightly on Obi-Wan's temple and nodded in satisfaction. "He's alive."
Illaryn's eyes widened. "He is? But surely the fall…"
"Jedi are more resilient than that, Governor. I'll get the speeder. Stay with him – and try to wake him." She jogged away, around the corner, towards the parked speeder, leaving Illaryn to crouch down next to Obi-Wan's inert body.
He had thought the young Jedi was dead…but sure enough, on close inspection, Obi-Wan was breathing – shallow, uneven breaths. He was pale; and there was some blood from a head wound, but he was alive.
"Obi-Wan? Can you hear me? Obi-Wan?"
"Illaryn?" Obi-Wan murmured, opening his eyes, as the man came slowly back into focus. He felt terrible; he had stabbing pains in his back and shoulder, his head was swimming and he the rest of him ached all over with a dull pain.
Illaryn sighed in relief as the Jedi opened his eyes. "Thank the Gods."
Obi-Wan struggled to rise up, picking himself up carefully to a sitting position – and hissed in pain as he moved his left shoulder – the one he had landed on. He lifted a hand to the side of his head – he could feel dried blood – and looked over at the man crouched down next to him, realising what was odd about this picture. "Where's Qui-Gon?" he asked in a soft, pained whisper.
Illaryn bit his lip. Obi-Wan, immediately sensing something wrong, reached out to the bond, only to find it still and silent – he could still feel Qui-Gon's presence, but his Master was not responding nor could Obi-Wan sense any emotions or impressions through the Force-link. Strange.
"Illaryn, where is he?"
"He's gone, Obi-Wan. He was caught by those pirates."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes in defeat, as Illaryn began to ramble next to him. "Can you remember the fight? And you fell – we thought you were dead – so did the pirates, they left you and took him – they sedated him with something, I don't know what – I thought you were dead, I really did – I used my comlink and called the Temple – Master Cho-Leem is here; she's gone to get her speeder-"
"Which way did they go?" Obi-Wan softly interrupted, trying to ignore the pain in his head and shoulder. Taking a breath, he reached out to the warmth of the Force and felt some of the pain drain away. He placed one hand on the protesting muscles of his left shoulder and began to massage some of the remaining pain out of it. It didn't appear to be broken, but it hurt terribly. Oh well – at least he was right-handed.
Illaryn shook his head. "I followed them, a few streets, as far as I could – to a landing pad. They went to their ship, and took off…it was a few hours ago, maybe more. You've been unconscious for a while."
A soft humming noise indicated the arrival of Thracia Cho-Leem in the speeder, and a few moments later she drove around the corner, stopping next to the injured Jedi and leaping lightly from the driver's seat to help Obi-Wan up.
"Easy, Obi-Wan," she murmured gently, putting one arm around his shoulders to support him. "That, by the look of it, was quite a spectacular fall and you've not been awake very long."
"Master…Master Cho-Leem? What-?"
She cut him off with a shake of her head. "All in time, Kenobi, all in time. You need some medical attention; we need to get Illaryn back to Coruscant Central; and you have to talk to the Council."
"But my Master! He's been captured…we have to go after him," said Obi-Wan, as he sank into the back seat of the speeder, one hand on his injured shoulder, and Thracia started up the small craft. Turning around, she smiled sadly at him.
"There's nothing we can do, not now – not while this mission needs completing, and you're in the state you're in. The Council knows what happened here, thanks to Illaryn's transmission. Rest, Kenobi. You need it."
Obi-Wan felt the whisper of a Force-suggestion touch his mind, and he fell into a light healing sleep. He had to find Qui-Gon…he would find him…he would…
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Obi-Wan woke over an hour later, as the speeder approached the Courts. A witness escort appeared to greet Illaryn and take him inside. He bowed respectfully to the still-drowsy Obi-Wan, who replied with an inclination of his head.
"Thank you, Apprentice Kenobi. To both you and your Master."
"Thank you, Governor," Thracia smiled, sparing Obi-Wan a reply. "Thanks to you we have a solid lead to find Master Jinn. Good luck for the case."
"And luck for your search." He turned away, to the Court and the trial, and Thracia swung the speeder around and headed towards the Jedi Temple.
Obi-Wan leant his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the cool air across his face. He still felt ill, unfocused, and his left shoulder and head still hurt terribly, but other than that he felt much better. As he relaxed, he started to put everything together: the fight, Qui-Gon's capture – the link was still unresponsive – and what was about to happen. He had to speak to the Council – oh, good.
Obi-Wan had picked up his Master's ill feelings about the Jedi High Council over the years. Although he did not disobey them like Qui-Gon occasionally did, it was still unnerving to have to stand before them – and alone, no less. He had always had Qui-Gon next to him…but now it was only him.
Thracia landed the speeder in the hangar, and helped Obi-Wan out. He was hurting, but it was fading slowly with the help of the Force.
"You're to speak to the Council right now," Thracia said quietly as they made their way through the halls slowly for Obi-Wan's benefit. "I'm coming with you; they want a report off me." She shot him a mischievous smile. "We thought you were dead."
"You did?"
"Yes – well, Illaryn did, and told Mace as much. There will be many who will be relieved to see you alive, Kenobi."
Obi-Wan sighed. "Truth be told, I'm surprised myself, Master Cho-Leem. I was knocked off the platform by a frag grenade…I remember wondering if I would survive."
Obi-Wan leant gratefully against the turbo lift wall, carefully moving his left shoulder around, and hissing quietly in pain as something in it clicked. It felt better now, he decided, now whatever it was had been moved back. Thracia watched him, frowning, and placed a hand on it. Obi-Wan felt the soothing warmth of healing energy flow into it removing some of the pain – Thracia was a well-trained healer at the Temple; he had forgotten.
"That shoulder might need some more work, Kenobi – you landed on it and caused a lot of strain. It wasn't broken or dislocated, just crushed. How's your head, by the way?"
Obi-Wan touched his head gently at her reminder, feeling the bruising beneath his fingertips as he removed the blood with his cloak sleeve. "Still sore, but getting better. It's a bit hard to focus."
Thracia shrugged. "That's to be expected. I doubt this meeting will either be very long, or be a grilling, so it shouldn't be long until you can rest properly. And-" she cut him off as Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, "Kenobi, you will rest. As much as I hate to say it, Qui-Gon can't be helped right now – we need to trace the captors first, and you can't help him when injured and unfocused."
"Trace them?" Obi-Wan pounced on the words, and the hope they gave. "How?"
"Illaryn memorised a design on the ship, and drew it for me. I'm going to run it though the Archive databases and see what comes up: I'll do it straight after this meeting. But you, Kenobi," she said, fixing him with a stare, "will not be with me – you will be heeding my advice and resting. That's an order as a senior healer."
Obi-Wan nodded obediently. Thracia was right, of course, but part of him – the part that was thinking straighter than the rest and was uninjured – wanted to go to the Archives now. Ever minute that passed, Qui-Gon got further and further away. Who knew who had caught him, or why? Money was an answer, yes – but what was the reason behind the bounty in the first place? Who had been putting bounties on live Jedi? So much of this didn't make sense.
The turbolift reached the top of the spire where the High Council was located. Stepping out onto the soft carpet of the small hallway, Obi-Wan sighed, trying to calm himself and project the aura expected of a twenty-four-year-old Senior Padawan. It wasn't easy, but Obi-Wan guessed that as long as he could control his emotions, it probably didn't matter if the Council could read into him or not. They seemed to be able to do it to anyone anyway.
The shorter the meeting was, the better. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand. The dizziness, which had been with him since he awoke, was getting worse and now coming in waves. He hoped he could compose himself before the Council, although there was part of him that no longer cared.
A Council aide appeared and bowed to the both of them.
"They are ready for you now."
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Of course I didn't kill off Obi-Wan. Most worked that out…and the shoulder thing was revenge for TPM: in the Duel of the Fates, Obi-Wan gets kicked or something (can't remember right now, but I'm pretty sure it's a boot to the face) off one of the catwalks by Darth Maul and lands heavily on his left shoulder…in my opinion, he should have hurt it (though I'm aware that adrenaline blocks out pain). Anyway, I decided to give him the injury he deserved! [[Feb 2013: Though I should add that this story is set before TPM, it's just a bit of pre-revenge, nothing connected to the film.]]
Reviews are, as always, appreciated and wanted!