Chapter Eight

Darth Silenus

Jac leaned on the doorframe of the 'fresher, watching his son fix his hair for at least the tenth time in five minutes, studying himself in the mirror, practicing his best grin. Despite the prime moment to tease his teenage boy about his obvious affections for the Kenobi girl, Jac felt a deep sadness descend upon him. The previous evening, as he and Sam returned to their yacht after dinner with the Kenobis, Jac made up his mind about Sam's involvement in the upcoming sabotage of the Empire.

And the resolution broke his already ailing heart.

Use that sadness, Jac coached himself, smiling at his boy as he applied a little too much product to his floppy mess of dark hair. Turn the grief into anger. Turn the anger into hate. And turn that hate into vengeance against Sidious.

Sam finally turned to his father, straightening his deep green robes, which complemented his eyes. Jac flinched, suddenly, painfully, reminded of the boy's mother.

"Do I look okay?" Sam asked, not seeming to notice his father's turmoil. "I mean, I know I only see Zella for one day, but…I want her to like me."

Jac laughed. "I think she's already interested, Sammy. Just show her some of that charm. That quick wit and humor you got from me." He winked as Sam rolled his eyes.

Deep down, that subtle pain of loss ached. Yes Sam, be enduring, be charming. The Kenobis are our only hope.

Up on the hill, inside the Kenobi homestead, Obi-Wan sat on the sofa, waiting for the arrival of Jac, his son, and the holocron. As discussed the previous evening, Mayli would take the kids on a day trip to Mos Espa, leaving Obi-Wan and the Sith to the holocron.

Next to him, Mayli sipped a cup of caf and held his hand, Zella appearing before them suddenly for the third time, in a completely different outfit from ten minutes ago.

"So I thought maybe these blue robes," she said, looking at her parents for approval.

"They do bring out your eyes," said Mayli.

Zella nodded and looked to her father.

"You look lovely," he said truthfully, sighing heavily.

Zella beamed at him, then skipped down the hall to do her hair.

Mayli elbowed Obi-Wan. "Hey, you can drop the overprotective father act. Zella can take care of herself. And Sam is a nice boy…"

"And a Sith."

"Maybe not…"

"His father is a Sith," Obi-Wan argued.

"And mother a Jedi…"

"Yes, and about that…" Obi-Wan said, turning to Mayli, picking up his caf from the table and taking a large gulp. He spit it out as it scorched his throat. He sputtered.

Mayli leaned forward and kissed his cheek as Zella entered again.

"Hair up or down?" she asked.

"Up. It'll get sweaty," Mayli said, her smiling eyes still looking at Obi-Wan as he recovered.

"Right," said Zella, disappearing again.

"Yes…this Jedi," Obi-Wan said weakly. "How do we know this? I never heard of her…"

"You didn't know everyone. And by then, weren't you a Master? And a general?"

"Yes, but surely this boy is trained in the ways of the Dark Side," Obi-Wan argued.

Mayli gave him a sad look. "Ben, even I can feel it now. The Dark Side is everywhere. Sweetheart, you are even entering a Sith holocron today. And this boy actually seems like a bright spot. Let him and Zella have a nice day. It'll be their only day before…" Mayli stopped, then leaned in for another kiss.

Yes, Mayli was right. The tide of the Dark Side rolled across Tatooine now…with a twinge of hope. The pieces were set on the game board. Now Obi-Wan just needed to learn the rules.

Zella re-emerged, her hair up in a simple braid, looking pretty, and Obi-Wan felt a surge of emotion, realizing with a jolt how much of his daughter's life he would miss. Fifteen years simply wasn't enough time.

A few hours later, Zella walked beside Sam, who looked curiously at the busy Mos Espa streets around them. Having finally convinced her mother to meet with some of her pilot friends so she could be alone with Sam, Zella wondered what he thought of this simple world, probably so used to the bustle of metropolitan Coruscant.

"So…what do you think?" Zella finally asked.

"Do the poor…do they always just, well, sit around," he asked, seeming legitimately baffled, nodding to an elderly human woman who leaned against the side of a building, looking blankly off into space. Sam had stopped to regard her. "There just seem to be so many…poor sentients."

"She's probably homeless," Zella said, eyeing him. "Where do the poor go on Coruscant?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I guess they are there somewhere. I live in the palace district. Ragged people don't just sit along the side of the street. The Emperor makes sure of this." He frowned slightly, still looking at the woman. "I wonder…" He glanced at Zella. "You must find me terribly ignorant, huh?"

"No…just from a different place," Zella said, wondering now about the Emperor, what else got swept under the rug, out of eyesight.

Then Sam surprised her. He walked over to the woman, leaned down beside her, and took her hand, closing his eyes in the process. The woman, who seemed to have lost her mind years ago, continued to stare, eyes emotionless. Sam stayed still for several long moments, enough time for Zella to approach and kneel next to them. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"She…so much tragedy. Abuse. It hurts," he grimaced as he released her hand. He removed a small pouch from his pocket and took out a golden coin. Zella gasped. She'd only heard of this ancient form of payment in stories. Sam turned to Zella as he pressed the coin into the woman's hand. "Are you talented with mind manipulation?"

The question surprised her. "My father…he's very good. But I haven't had the opportunity."

"Try," coaxed Sam gently. "Tell her to go to the café across the street. For food. Her name is Gola."

Zella studied the woman's face. "Gola? Gola. You will rise and use the coin to buy food."

Nothing…but then, the woman's eyes seemed to clear, and she looked directly at Zella.

"What was that, child?" she said feebly.

"You will rise and use the coin to buy food."

The woman staggered to her feet, helped by Sam. She smiled, then shuffled toward the shop. Zella watched, her heart warmed. She'd done it! And used the skill for good.

Sam nodded after the woman. "Let's get lunch there and see that she is okay."

They sat a table away from Gola, who ate ravenously, brought whatever she desired, the proprietor looking shocked at the coin. Zella's attention turned to Sam who gathered in the room around him, and Zella suddenly felt puzzled. He'd done something wonderfully nice and not just to impress her, she could feel this in the Force. No, he'd just seen someone in need and helped. What kind of a Sith was he? Before she knew what happened, she'd said this question aloud.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, looking genuinely confused.

"I mean…you're a Sith…and…evil…um…" she faltered.

"I'm a Force user. And the Force is a spectrum," he said.

"But the Dark Side…" she began, then stopped. She didn't feel like talking philosophy. This conversation made her think of her father and his impending mission and…death. Her heart hurt. She changed the subject. "I like how your dad calls you Sammy. Is that your nickname?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Only mom and dad call me that…or dad. It sounds silly and…"

"I like it…Sammy," she said playfully, watching him blush. Goodness, had she just flirted successfully?

"Well thank you…Zellie," Sam said before diving back into eating his sandwich.

The moment he said Zellie, something inside Zella lit up. Recognition again. She'd known him before…had she?

"May I call you Sammy?" she asked.

"You can call me whatever you want," he said back, with an air of flirtatious smugness.

Zella laughed, looking again at the woman, who now ate a large dessert, looking happy and satisfied. Despite the darkness surrounding them and their current situation, things seemed good for the moment.

But an hour later, as the teens walked through the shopping district of town, gazing at the booths, a silence fell between them, and Zella's thoughts turned again to her father, right now inside the world of the Sith holocron. Before she knew what happened, she'd burst into tears in the middle of the dusty road. She felt Sam pull her to the side to avoid the busy traffic.

"Zella…what' wrong?"

"My dad…he's…he's…he's not going to be here anymore. I don't…I don't…"

But she sobbed, letting everything pour out of her, onto Sam's shoulder, knowing she got his fine robes slobbery but unable to control her emotions. Certainly not the Jedi way, but she knew even her father didn't buy into the line in the Code, there is no emotion.

Suddenly she realized Sam cried too, clutching her to him as if his life depended on her being in his arms. How strange, these two people who met only yesterday, now bound together in tragedy, a tale spun years before their births. She leaned back to look into his face, his bright eyes wet, handsome, chiseled features flushed and damp. She could only imagine how she looked, snotty and red-eyed. But she surprised herself in her boldness, standing on her toes and kissing his wet cheek softly, tasting the salt of his tears. Before she could see his reaction, she embraced him again. They stood together for several minutes at the side of the busy Mos Espa street before moving on to walk in silence, hand-in-hand.

Obi-Wan sat across the kitchen table from Jac, the holocron between them.

"So to open this cube, two individuals trained in different Force philosophies must enter together," Jac explained. "Darth Silenus will greet us…although the greeting is always different."

Feeling slightly apprehensive, Obi-Wan nodded.

"Well old man, you ready?" Jac asked lightly.

"Yes," said Obi-Wan, a sense of determination filling him as he and Jac both reached for the holocron at the same time.

The moment their fingers touched the cube, a bright red light flowed from the holocron. Obi-Wan felt a deep pull in his chest, and his eyes flew open, having not realized he'd squeezed them shut. The sky shone bright, a light blue, the air warm and pleasantly fragrant. Looking around him, Obi-Wan realized he stood in the middle of some sort of orchard, bushes of a red berry around him, a large building in the distance.

Obi-Wan turned to his right to see Jac standing with him, smiling, taking a deep breath.

"Lovely, isn't it?" he asked. "Now where is…"

"Jac!" came a deep, inviting voice, and Obi-Wan swung around to see a rather plump, jolly looking man moving toward them. Balding, rosy cheeks on pale skin, wearing simple brown robes, the man approaching them gave off a feeling of happiness and…something else. Something was different about this holocron gatekeeper, different from any other holocron he ever encountered, Jedi or Sith.

Jac and the man embraced, then turned to Obi-Wan.

"This is Darth Silenus…" Jac began.

"No…no…call me Si," the man said, approaching Obi-Wan who extended his hand but was embraced by the Sith. The man felt solid. In fact, everything about this holocron felt very real.

"Ah…a Jedi," the man said.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he answered. "I am…was…a member of the council, and I…"

"Yes, yes," Si said, waving his hand in dismissal and turning to Jac. "Come try my latest wine. Been fermenting to the point where the air in my storehouse is thick with the rich, sweet smell. Ready to be bottled."

The trio moved toward the building, a beautiful, simple structure of brick, Obi-Wan wondering what planet they were on.

"Where is Callie?" asked Si.

"She…is away," stammered Jac, seeming caught off guard by the question. He recovered quickly. "Brought this old man in to learn the secrets of the Force Spirit. Says he knows how to become one, but not how to be anything other than a shade."

"Ah, now that is my specialty," Si said, turning to Obi-Wan and grinning broadly. "In fact the only purpose of this holocron…along with some excellent wine. Come have some. Enjoy yourself, Master Jedi. I'm afraid the Jedi gave up on indulgences years ago. Pity, really. Might have been a bit more effective, lasted a bit longer, if you knew how to live. How to connect with others instead of being all high and mighty above them."

Jac laughed. "This Jedi…he's one of the last, survived the Purge I told you about. And he seemed to have done some living. Has a woman…"

"Excellent."

"Even served as a bartender, I've heard."

"Oh, I like him better already," Si laughed. "The Jedi, like the Sith, are fools. Following some Code. The Force is too vast to be put into any category."

"Then why do you take the ancient Sith title of Darth," asked Obi-Wan.

"I studied the Force, the entire spectrum. I served as a Jedi, then a Sith, then myself…and finally, life. The Living Force…"

At those words, Obi-Wan felt a sudden kinship with this man. The Living Force, the philosophy of Qui-Gon.

"As for the title Darth…Darth Silenus has a nice ring to it. One's name should please the owner, correct? Obi-Wan Kenobi…that is quite fun to say…rolls off the tongue. Do you like it?"

Obi-Wan never gave his name much thought, other than wondering about the family history of Kenobi. But yes, he did like his name. He loved when Mayli said it, even in anger. He smiled, feeling even more relaxed around Darth Silenus.

Entering the building, Obi-Wan found the holocron master did not lie. The air smelled delicious, and slightly intoxicating, making Obi-Wan's head a bit light, himself instantly more comfortable. A table laden with snacks of all sorts sat in the middle, and Si fetched wine glasses filled to the brim for the men.

Settling into the chair opposite Obi-Wan, Jac off to the side, Si leaned toward the Jedi. "So, tell me what you already know about the nature of the Force Ghost."

Obi-Wan launched into his explanation, the learning he'd received from Qui-Gon years ago, before the man made the decision to join the Force. Si listened with a twinkle in his eye, nodding from time to time. When Obi-Wan finished, he gestured to the still full wine glass.

"Now drink. Drink, master Jedi," Si insisted, and Obi-Wan raised the glass to his lips, the sweet liquid pouring down his throat. Simply wonderful.

Studying the glass now half-full, he pondered this. He'd never eaten or drank in a holocron, yet he could taste the wine, feel its effects.

"How is this possible?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing over at Jac whose glass was already empty.

The Sith smiled warmly at him as he turned to Si, completely ignoring Obi-Wan's question. "Obi-Wan here has a mission to fulfill which will be better served by a Force Spirit. He needs to learn how to manipulate his environment in the afterlife."

Si nodded. "Well, becoming a Force Spirit with such abilities is not terribly difficult. You already know quite a bit from your master…about keeping a hold on the string…on the flow rather…of the Living Force. But if you want to be a powerful Force Ghost, you cannot leave your matter behind, like your master did. You must take it with you."

"Take my matter with me," Obi-Wan repeated. Yes, that did make sense.

"When you are a mere spirit, you cannot manipulate your environment. But if you have matter belonging to your being…well, that is something else entirely," Si explained. "That is why you disappear rather than leave your body behind. And yes, over the years the matter belonging to your spirit will drift away until you are eventually no more. Then, joining the Living Force is my recommendation."

Obi-Wan nodded, remembering Qui-Gon's fatigue during their last meeting. And he wasn't hauling around matter, attempting to keep minute particles together.

Si laughed. "And if you are very talented, you can absorb anything touching you into your being, such as clothing, your weapon. My master, the one who taught me these skills, was powerful and did that very thing."

"Obi-Wan leaves behind his clothing and lightsaber," Jac explained, then grinned broadly at the Jedi. "Perhaps not as powerful as he would like."

Obi-Wan frowned. "You mean I'm going to reappear somewhere naked?" he asked.

Si laughed. "Sounds like it. Should provide some humor in what is sure to be a frighteningly tragic moment. But considering where you will end up, you may want to manifest clothing quickly. Many individuals can see Force Spirits, people who do not know they have Force sensitivity."

Obi-Wan nodded, remembering how Solla, his former employer at Jabba's bar, could see Qui-Gon when he appeared to visit Obi-Wan.

"Hmmm…" Obi-Wan said, beginning to consider everything. So if the chain of events played out as Jac mentioned, he would confront Vader, die, reappear somewhere on the Death Star, apparently naked, and proceed to sabotage the ship before the Rebellion arrived. He would need to study the Death Star plans before leaving Tatooine.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan began laughing aloud, then paused to drain his glass of wine, then laughed some more. Of all the missions he'd ever been on as a Jedi, this seemed the most ludicrous. And yet, everything made perfect sense.

When he recovered, he realized Si refilled his glass, and Jac sat looking at him with a sense of whimsy, his wine also replenished.

"So," said Obi-Wan lightly, reaching for one of the snack crackers on the table. Delicious…complemented the wine nicely. "How does one do all this?"

Si smiled. "You need to anticipate the exact moment of your death and willingly give yourself to it, all the while keeping a tight grasp on your matter."

Obi-Wan listened, taking mental notes, as Darth Silenus explained the process. Into the afternoon they spoke, when finally something dawned on Obi-Wan.

"You…when you made this holocron…you were dead," he said, and Si nodded.

"Yes. I gave myself to the Force years ago…saved my children, my spouse. And with my powers, I was able to visit with them. All save my youngest was Force sensitive…but I found ways to communicate with her."

Possibilities ran through Obi-Wan's head. He could still be a part of Zella's life! And maybe figure out a way to talk with Mayli! His heart felt lighter.

"Then I killed the bastard who killed me," Si finished, raising an empty glass in a toast. "Please, eat, drink! I cannot myself, and it gives me pleasure to watch others enjoy the fruits of my labor."

The afternoon in the sunny, warm, fragrant winery flew by, Obi-Wan leaving the holocron's boundaries later feeling a new sense of hope.

Mayli took a moment to glance back at Zella and Sam as she flew the Nebula Flame across the desert toward home. The teens sat behind her in the passenger seats, laughing hard, sharing some private joke about an eopie and a bantha, something they'd seen in town that day. Previously, Sam entertained both women with a story about a state function he attended with his father, an evening he saw Grand Moff Tarkin return from the 'fresher with toilet paper on his boot. His retelling engaging and witty, Mayli found herself liking the young man more and more.

And Zella certainly seemed smitten with him, leaning into him as they talked and laughed. Mayli sighed sadly, wishing they had more time. Zella with Sam, who made her so happy during this tragic time. Mayli with Obi-Wan. Sam with his mother, who he spoke of a few times with such love. And of course, Zella with her own father. Time…if only they had more time.

The Kenobi hillside came into view, and Mayli wondered how the Sith and the Jedi faired during their journey into the holocron.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Obi-Wan regarded the holocron thoughtfully. Such powerful secrets contained in the cube. And such a wonderful experience. After learning about Force Spirits, the three men talked Force philosophy, arguing the afternoon away, Obi-Wan becoming quite drunk on the tasty wine and not caring, simply enjoying good, intellectual conversation. But when he and Jac emerged from the holocron, the intoxication immediately vanished, leaving Obi-Wan thoughtful.

Something occurred to him, something he should have thought of earlier, but hadn't in his concern for his own family and himself. Looking up at Jac, who stared pensively at the table, he asked, "Do you become a Force Spirit?"

Jac looked up, locking eyes with Obi-Wan. "I don't know. I never see my own future," he stopped abruptly. "Nor Callie's. My visions, for all they are worth, failed me when I needed them the most."

"How did she die?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

Jac bit his lip and turned away. He looked uncharacteristically sad.

"You don't have to tell…" Obi-Wan began, but Jac interrupted.

"I worked in the labs beneath the palace. Research…I mentioned this," Jac said, his voice almost monotone. "I had to go across world to fetch some diplomat…Sidious asked me the night before. After dropping him off at a nearby hotel, I reported to the labs late that morning. When I arrived, several of the apprentices, some the Inquisitors you've seen around, were gathered around a table, Sidious amongst them. This was unusual, as I was the one in charge of the Sith science apprentices, Sidious only showing up on occasion."

He stopped and took a deep breath.

"Before I got to the table, Sidious moved slowly toward me, a grin on his face. He told me Vader tracked down another Jedi…after all this time! And right here, down the street, working at Imperial Human Resources. After he said this, I knew. I knew Callie lie on that table. I knew she was dead."

He stopped for over a minute, Obi-Wan not daring to talk. He thought about losing his own love. Yes, Jac may be a Sith, but he was also a man.

"They had her open, cut…flayed. Like autopsies we've done. My beautiful…my wife…her body cut up…collecting her organs to study. How did they differ from others not attune to the Force? They'd done this before with others Vader caught. We'd done this…but not with my…my Callie."

Obi-Wan felt nauseous, thinking about those he may have known in a similar position.

"I hid my emotions. Sidious knew she was my wife, but when he asked, I told him I knew she was Force sensitive, but did not know her to be a Jedi. I hid my anger…pretended to feel betrayed. Put the anger onto her. I had to protect our son…he would not become one of Sidious' pets. Callie would hate that, as she hated him. I lied…effectively. Aside from foresight, lying is my skill. He bought it…although I think he might have been more distrustful if he hadn't been distracted by other matters of state…the Rebellion, the Death Star construction and testing," he paused, then continued, barely at a whisper. "And the next hour, I directed the dissection of my wife, the preservation of her organs, and the final cremation of her body. I buried my feelings of disgust, of hatred, and let them burn within me. Later that evening, I knew what I needed to do."

Obi-Wan nodded, not saying anything. Somehow a simple "I'm sorry for your loss" did not seem appropriate.

"She'd been sliced through the shoulder to the heart with Vader's lightsaber. Attacked from the back," Jac said. "The cause of death. She had no time to follow Si's guidelines…no time."

"She can still come back, like my master," said Obi-Wan reassuringly.

"Perhaps," said Jac, now glaring up at Obi-Wan. "You trained that man, you know. The man who stabbed my wife in the back. Darth Vader. Make sure you finish the job this time."

"What?"

"Sidious told me about Anakin Skywalker. About the events on the volcano world," Jac said, his eyes narrowing, hate now in his voice. "You could have done the galaxy a huge favor by going back and making sure your padawan was dead before you left."

Obi-Wan's eyes shifted back to the table. Jac had no idea how many times Obi-Wan thought this same thing. But how could he do such a thing? He couldn't bear to watch Anakin burning.

"He was my brother…my best friend," he answered.

"He is no more," Jac said. "Anakin Skywalker is dead. He's more machine than man. Trust me. I've been in his presence. He…he killed my wife." Jac's anger dissipated, and he smiled at Obi-Wan. "But he, like the entire galaxy, is a pawn in a game the Emperor, Darth Sidious, plays. He needs to be destroyed. And that destruction begins here. No, I cannot see my death, but I'm going to make sure it counts. My death will matter."

Obi-Wan nodded. Yes, his death would matter as well.

The sound of a ship caused both men to turn their heads. The Nebula Flame approach the homestead.

Obi-Wan's heart began to hurt. Yes, his death would matter. However, saying goodbye to his beloved family might break his spirit.

Author's Note: In the next, and final, chapter, Jac makes a stunning request of Mayli, and the Kenobi family says farewell.

Thank you for reading! I would love to hear from some readers. Please let me know your thoughts. Take care.