Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for general disclaimer. Padawan healer Towani Nal and Jedi Nai'gia are my OCs.
Author's Note: Here's chapter 9 and we are almost through—only two chapters remain! In this chapter, there will be some references to a previous mission with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as well as some other "inside jokes." These allusions are taken from another story of mine that I have not yet posted, but when I do I will be sure to let you all know! Hope you are still enjoying it because the ride is almost over...
Thanks:
M. Uchman and TheGirlBetweenMindAndSoul14: Yes, I would expect you to be stumped considering the cruel way I left you last chapter. Don't feel bad, it would have been impossible to guess, but the answer can be found in the story below...
Marthakun95: Though I'm a big fan of the Obi/Satine dynamic, I regret to inform you that "she" is not the Duchess. Want to know who she is? Read on below!
Jedi Kay-Kenobi: Well, I said it was "like" assisted suicide in that everyone pretty much knows the result of the action will end in his death. However, I would not call it giving up, per se. Obi-Wan, himself, certainly would not call it giving up. He is merely accepting what he believes the Force wills, though in the collar and facing a possible lifetime without the Force, he could be confusing his desires with the Force's...
Please R&R!
And on to the show...
"Okay, I give up. Who is she? Oh, and hand me that micro-fuser," Anakin says, his voice muffled by the speeder he just rolled under. A day had passed since his last "conversation" with his former master and Anakin still felt unbalanced. His anger and frustration still was like a haze burning across his mind. He needed a distraction so he went to where he could indulge in his brand of moving meditation—the Temple's main hanger. Upon arriving, the Knight quickly displaced some maintenance droids from their project and began to work on the malfunctioning speeder himself.
For his part, Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to find his former apprentice. The master was quite aware of the young man's feelings when last they spoke and, knowing Anakin as he did, Obi-Wan headed straight to the main hanger bay in search of the young Knight.
Obi-Wan searches through a box of tools to his left and, finding the one requested, places it into the outstretched hand extending from under the disabled air car. Anakin takes the tool and slides further under the vehicle's body. Obi-Wan sits atop a nearby crate, his legs crossed in a simple meditation pose.
"She is someone I haven't seen in a very long time," the master finally answers. Anakin slides out from under the speeder with a lopsided grin.
"Really? Girlfriend or the one that got away?"
"Anakin."
"What?" the Knight replies innocently as he adeptly dodges the oily rag his former master throws at him. "It's a simple question, Master."
"For the simple minded, perhaps," Obi-Wan answers finally mustering up a wry grin for his friend. "We met when I was much younger, still a junior padawan to Master Qui-Gon."
Anakin returns to his repairs as Obi-Wan explains.
"My Master and I had managed to get ourselves in a bit of trouble and she was... well, let's just say she proved to be exceedingly helpful," Obi-Wan says pausing for a moment then he adds with a smirk, "eventually."
"So, who is she? Some sort of specialist? A healer? A researcher?"
"A Jedi."
"A Jedi," Anakin repeats sliding out again. This time he comes all the way out and stands, wiping his ungloved flesh hand with the once projectile rag.
"Who?"
"Her name is Nai'gia, but I wouldn't expect you to know her. Only a few even know of her existence and most of those few don't know her by name. Most only know her by her title."
"Her title?" Anakin questions as he leans against the disabled speeder, his arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles.
"In that regard, she is rather much like you, I suppose," Obi-Wan offers somewhat distractedly. He turns his full attention back on the young man before him. "She is called the Vessel."
Anakin just stares at his former master. His brow slightly furrowed in confusion. Obi-Wan is unable to suppress the roguish smile teasing at his mouth or the single eyebrow tugging upwards.
"You would think someone named in ancient Jedi prophecy would take the time to read through a few of them," he lightly admonishes. Anakin opens his mouth to object, but Obi-Wan waves him off with a smile. "Prophecy holds that every so often the Force chooses a sentient being to act as its voice, its vessel, if you will. Nai'gia is that being."
Anakin shifts his stance as he gives his fellow Jedi an incredulous snort.
"You really expect me to believe that?" he asks. Obi-Wan shrugs.
"You expect me to believe you're the Chosen One?" Obi-Wan replies as he takes a moment to stretch his legs before standing.
"Alright," Anakin says leaning forward a bit, disbelief still broadcasting clearly over his expression. "Let's just say that I believe it, that this mystery Jedi is some "vessel" of the Force. Why keep her hidden? Why all the secrecy?"
"Think Anakin," Obi-Wan says as he effortlessly slides into master mode with his former padawan. He crosses one arm over his chest, the other rests under his chin. "A single being with that much power would be a magnet for... beings with less than compassionate motives."
"You mean the dark side."
"Indeed, but there is another reason. Being so attuned as she is, it makes her... unstable."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute," Anakin interrupts as he steps closer to his friend. "The Vessel, the Voice of the Force, the woman you're hoping can fix whatever it is that's happening to you, you're telling me that she's kriffing crazy?"
"Language, Anakin."
"Priorities, Master," the Knight quickly retorts. Obi-Wan's hands drop to his sides.
"She's not crazy. Quilan, for example, he's crazy. Nai'gia is... delightfully and frustratingly quirky."
Anakins raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with Obi-Wan's distinctive wordplay.
"Quirky? Jedi typically don't come in 'quirky'."
"Well, Nai'gia is not your typical Jedi and may I point out, neither are you."
Obi-Wan watches carefully as Anakin mulls over the new information. He sees the young Knight's jaw clench and his blue eyes narrow slightly. Obi-Wan know that stubborn expression all too well.
"Absolutely not," he answers peremptorily.
"I didn't ask anything."
"But you were about to and the answer is still no."
"Even with that kriffing collar on you're still a real son of a Hutt, you know that!" Anakin snaps, but the look on his former master's face makes him instantly regret his words. Obi-Wan's hand absently touches the cool metal of the collar. His expression loses the vitality it displayed only moments previous showing now only a dull, joyless slate; an amalgamation of shame, sorrow, and resignation. His gaze drops to the floor. Anakin's anger quickly seeps out of him.
"Master, I'm sorry. I-I... didn't mean..."
"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan answers without looking up. "Anakin, it would be imprudent, I think, to have what are possibly the two most powerful beings of light in the same room. It is yet another reason she is not often at the Temple," he pauses. Obi-Wan releases a long sigh and looks directly at his former padawan. "Despite my current circumstances, I am still a member of the High Council and a Master of the Order. I can order you to stay away, but I would rather just ask you to trust my judgment on this."
"Fine," Anakin grumbles reluctantly. He may be frustrated, he may even be angry, but Obi-Wan knows that Anakin will obey him in this... though he will undoubtedly gripe about it over the next few days.
"The next few days," Obi-Wan thinks with an inaudible sigh. He cannot think about the next few days, he is incapable of such a feat. It is usually all he can do to make it from one moment to the next; the future just seems too empty a prospect to consider. Obi-Wan stifles quickly what would have been a rueful smile. He was finally living fully in the moment as his master had always admonished him to do, though both he and Qui-Gon would probably agree that what Obi-Wan is doing is not "living," but merely existing in the present moment; neither regretting moments past or awaiting future ones. Well, there is at least one future moment that has his attention...
Obi-Wan's departure from the hanger bay had suffered under a very uncomfortable silence between the two Jedi to the point that he was happy he had an excuse to slip away. Now, he strolled down the quiet halls of the Temple, his hood up, a signal to all that the master desired privacy. All knew of and respected this time honored request for solitude, all save one.
"Hide from us, you cannot. Still see you, we can," comes a familiar and, under the circumstances, mildly irritating voice from behind Obi-Wan. He pauses before turning around using the precious few seconds to erase the pained look of annoyance from his features.
"I was not hiding, Master," he says, then he notices that the Grand Master is not alone. Friend and fellow Councilor, Master Adi Gallia, is accompanying the diminutive Jedi.
"Master Kenobi," she greets with slight bow of her head. Obi-Wan returns the greeting with a bow. "I must say I am pleased to see you out about the Temple. Your presence has been sorely missed and," she pauses with a tiny smile, "Master Piell is not nearly as gracious a sparring partner."
Obi-Wan manages to call up a smile for her, but it does not reach his eyes.
"No, I don't imagine he would be," Obi-Wan answers as the three slowly make their way down the corridor, the clack of Yoda's gimer stick creating a distinctive and echoing tattoo.
"Has she arrived yet?"
"Yes, arrived she has. Awaits you she does."
"Where?"
"You will meet in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. We have closed it off temporarily so that you will not be disturbed," Adi answers, her tone rich and regal. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at the choice of location. The Room of a Thousand Fountains was a Jedi favorite. Many would argue that the large garden was the heart of the Temple itself. To close it off seemed unconscionable, almost blasphemous.
"She specifically requested it," Adi says answering his unspoken question. "Her exact words were 'Kenobi must tend his garden else the fire blossoms will suffer in ignominy.'"
"You call that a "specific" request?" he asks.
"A joke it was. Get it most did not," Yoda says with a slight "hrrumph." The Tholothian master shrugs lightly.
"Well, I suppose I should be on my way then," Obi-Wan says to signal his imminent departure. He is about to increase his pace and pull away from the perambulating Councilors when a gimer stick suddenly blocks his path nearly tripping him.
"Stay a moment, you will. Something to say, I have."
"Yes, Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asks as the three stop in the middle of a junction between several main corridors. He kneels down so he is at eye level with the Grand Master. Yoda leans heavily on his cane, his eyes closed, his ears twitching faintly. The two masters wait patiently until the green lids lift revealing a pair of golden gimlet eyes. The ancient master lets out a heavy sigh as he looks to Obi-Wan with a mildly sorrowful expression, deep worry etched into the folds of his wrinkled skin.
"Hard it can be to search for the truth. Harder still it is to accept it once found. Certain I am that your path she will show, but difficult that path will be to walk. Yes," the ancient Jedi grumbles, "very difficult. Alone you will be. Understand others will not."
"I understand, Master," Obi-Wan answers, then feeling his response is not reassuring enough he adds, "I will be mindful."
Yoda studies the young Jedi for several moments before finally shuffling off with a snort. Master Gallia offers Obi-Wan a short parting bow before following after the Grand Master. Obi-Wan remains in the middle of the hall for a few moments before quietly moving to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
Until now this has been a room Obi-Wan has actively avoided. Since he was an initiate, this room had always been his favorite garden, his favorite place in the Temple as it was for many Jedi. Here, more than any other place within the Temple's walls, the Force seemed to dance and swirl around all who enter, embracing its servants in its warm and soothing comfort like a parent embracing its child. It is a magnificent, ethereal feeling a Jedi receives when he or she steps foot in the living bounty that is the Room of a Thousand Fountains, which is precisely why Obi-Wan feels reluctant to step inside it now.
After three very slow, very deep breaths, Obi-Wan does what he must and crosses the threshold. Immediately he feels the light humidity of the room settle on him like a fine mist. He feels the artificial sunlight warm his skin. He feels the hard stones beneath his boots that mark one of several paths through the large garden room. He feels all of the things, but nothing else. Even here the Force is but a memory to him and a bitter one at that. The splendor of the garden is limited to his elementary senses; nothing deeper, nothing more substantial. He feels he should be used to it by now, the lack, but he isn't and part of him fears the day that he does become accustomed to this most perfect of losses.
"You've lost nothing, Padawan. You know exactly where it all is," a familiar, soft, and lilting voice calls to him from a few meters away. Further in the room lying on the grass is the girl, though now a woman, Obi-Wan remembers. Her vibrant crimson hair is splayed about her head on the grass. Her figure is slim and fragile in contrast to the athletic tone of most other Jedi. Her golden skin is bright to near luminescence rivaled only by the brilliant shine of the lavender eyes that hide coyly behind heavy, dark lashes.
Obi-Wan steps off the path and moves to where she reclines on the plush garden grass near a small stream parented by one of the room's many waterfalls.
"You know," Obi-Wan says as he takes a seat beside her on the grass. "I'm not a padawan anymore. I haven't been for a long time."
Nai'gia continues to stare languidly at the artificial sky, the tones of her voice wafting easily among the flowers, trees, and other greenery liken to the hum of nature itself.
"A child's first steps are always forward. Seeking the path ever more it toddles. Eternal padawans were are all."
"Sure... I suppose," Obi-Wan answers hesitantly. Though the Jedi never understood more than half of what she said he always enjoyed listening to her say it, now more than ever. When he hears her voice he can almost feel the Force around him. Almost.
Suddenly, she turns to face him, propping herself up on one elbow. It is then that Obi-Wan notices the gleaming silver band around her neck.
"Y-You're wearing a Force collar!"
"And you've grown hairier," she giggles. Obi-Wan does not feel like laughing.
"Why... why are you ...," Obi-Wan struggles against his brain's desperate urge to remain speechless. "Why are you in a Force collar?"
The question tumbles out of him in horror. Seeing that collar, that damnable choker around her neck... it is an affront, an abomination to the Force itself. How dare someone attempt to stifle something so beautiful, try to tame something so irrepressibly transcendent, it is a crime against everything for which the master stands. Anger runs through Obi-Wan's veins unchecked. His skin feels hot and tight as his hands curl into fists on their own accord. His teeth clench. The Force around him warps and twists as he sits there seething. Obi-Wan has never felt anger, no rage like this except for when he is under the influence of whatever dark force grips him when he is without his collar. Then Obi-Wan's rage falls away from him as a terrifying thought crosses his mind.
"Nai'gia, you aren't... ill, are you?"
She doesn't answer, only cocks her head in a slightly bemused expression.
"What I mean is... Are you like me?" he asks, but again he is answered with only a child-like stare showing an innocent lack of understanding. Obi-Wan sighs and closes his eyes. A soft, uncalloused hand slips onto his causing his eyes to open and meet her equally soft and uncalloused gaze.
"Ssh, ssh. It's much quieter now, my little dreamer."
Little dreamer. It's the nickname she had given him when they first met all those years ago.
"I don't understand," he replies softly. Nai'gia lifts her hand from his and makes a sweeping gesture indicating the garden around them. Obi-Wan obeys her wordless command and looks around them. Droplets of water and a few heavy stones hover silently in the air, bobbing weightlessly in defiance of both reason and gravity. It is an amusing and, in truth, slightly disconcerting effect of being around such a powerful being in the Force. As familiar as the Force demonstration is, Obi-Wan is still unable to contain his surprise because such a demonstration shouldn't be possible. He turns back to her lounging form, his wide blue-gray eyes meeting her serene lavender ones.
"But... how?" he stammers ineloquently.
"The pretty quiets not silences, at least for me, but," she says sadly, "it's far too quiet for you. My little dreamer's voice is but a whisper now."
Obi-Wan nods slowly.
"I think... I understand," he begins. "The collar doesn't block the Force from you, it... thins it, makes it power more manageable." He pauses, his gaze dropping to his hands as he twists a blade of grass between two fingers. "You have chosen to wear it."
"All choose balance," she intones somewhat melodically. Obi-Wan releases a heavy sigh, his fingers still absently tugging on the grass.
"This," he says one hand lightly fingering the collar. "This isn't balance. I didn't choose this."
"Hmm," she murmurs thoughtfully, then she abruptly jumps to her feet, which Obi-Wan notices are bare. He had forgotten about her long war with shoes.
"Oh! Naughty, naughty boy! You've been hiding things from mommy!"
"What?" Obi-Wan replies as he also gets to his feet. Without warning, Nai'gia grabs at his robes wrenching the layers open exposing the upper portion of his lesion bedecked chest. Obi-Wan grabs her hands and wrists, delicately wresting them from his person.
"Nai'gia!" he exclaims. Suddenly, she stills in his hold. She stares at him with clear bewilderment.
"You expect me to see what is hidden, yet you hide what I must see. Why?"
Obi-Wan cringes, instantly regretting his earlier tone.
"Nai'gia," he begins gently, "next time, please just ask before you attempt to forcibly disrobe me." Obi-Wan releases her wrists and then removes his robes and inner tunics. He lays the garments on the soft ground and stands before her bare chested, blushing furiously as he feels her fingertips trace the patterns the dark lesions have etched over his pale skin. She places a palm flat against his sternum and gasps. Her eyes shoot up to meet his, her hand pulled away as if she were burned.
"What? What is it you sense?" he asks, desperation and fear tumbling roughly in his voice. She stares at him with wide, watery eyes.
"My dreamer dreams darkly," she whispers, then she lightly pats his chest. Her lips bare a small smile. "We need more light," she says. She takes a step back from him and reaches for the seam of her collar. Instinctively, Obi-Wan reaches out for her hand.
"No!" he yells. Nai'gia pauses, her head tilted to one side in question. "If you remove your... if you remove it, will... you be alright?"
Nai'gia looks at the worried man in front of her. As she speaks, Obi-Wan can feel compassion riding the mellifluous currents of her voice.
"Dreamer, I must be all right. I have never been all wrong," she says, then with a subtle click and a thump the collar falls carelessly to the ground between them.
Obi-Wan remembers all too well his recent bitter-sweet reunion with the Force so he braces himself expecting to see in Nai'gia the same moment of ecstasy he had felt so acutely, but to his surprise her expression remains essentially unchanged. Obi-Wan thinks he sees her smile widen slightly and perhaps there is a new twinkle of mischief in her eyes, but the changes are so minute he's unsure that there has really been any change at all.
Then she moves. She steps toward him with an odd hypnotic sway, her gaze glazes slightly as she cradles his bearded cheeks between her hands. Closer now Obi-Wan can tell she is humming softly to herself.
This is the Nai'gia of his memory.
"Made for the father. Sent by the son. Never was meant for Obi-Wan," she sings playfully as she drops both her hands to his chest. He gently holds her hands there, covering them with his own. Around him he is vaguely aware that everything in the garden that is not rooted or bolted to the ground is dancing casually in the air; floating and shifting to the beat of her humming tune.
"Made for the father, sent by the son," Obi-Wan repeats. "You're referring to Master Qui-Gon and Xanatos, aren't you? But what is it, Nai'gia? What did the son send?" he asks. Suddenly, the humming stops. Everything that was dancing in the air around them slows to tremulous hovering as if the Force itself is nervous with anticipation. She stares directly into his eyes.
"Darkness," she whispers. "Soul poison. A trap entwined with disease."
"I don't understand."
"A Force virus," she answers, her natural music drowned by the sorrow in her voice. "To turn or to burn, either way a morning star must fade. Dangerously complete is this dark," she sobs into his chest. Without conscious thought or hesitation, Obi-Wan cradles her head and shoulders in an intimate embrace.
"Is there really no hope?" he whispers into her scarlet mane. She glances up at him in surprise, a slow smile creeping across her lips.
"Hope is always there for those with eyes to see. Follow the Force and its will to let its dreamer be," she replies, her answers once again stubbornly cryptic. Obi-Wan takes her by the shoulders and holds her resisting the urge to shake the answers loose from her.
"Tell me. How do I escape this? What is the will of the Force? What must I do?" he begs. Nai'gia settles into his gaze and smiles sweetly.
"Only die."