Warnings: Uhm.... High brow Poetry ahead. And some science. And
maybe a passing resemblance to Star Trek. And some painful
angsty stuff.
Spoilers: Here be Xanatos! And a certain Horny-Head Guy makes a
cameo appearance.
Summary: Obi-Wan is sent to make first contact with an alien
species and discovers Xanatos has gotten there first. Feedback:
Gratefully accepted, thoughtfully considered, thanked-for
profusely, and saved for later gloating.
Disclaimer: All hail the Great Prophet Lucas, hallowed be thy
name, thy kingdom filmed, thy will be done, on THX as it is in
fandom. Give us this year our TPM, and forgive us our fanfic,
for thine is the Empire, the Qui-Gon and the Obi-Wan forever,
Amen.
References:
Obi-Wan and Xanatos are quoting John Milton, "Paradise Lost"
Qui-Gon's poem is the mandatory Edna St. Vincent Millay (hey,
Millay and Dickenson rule, what can I say?)
Obi-Wan quotes Alfred Lord Tennyson ("I hold it true, whate'er
befell...")
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are quoting pieces a Sting song to each
other, "Mad About You" off of the Soul Cages album.
The title is from Cyrano de Bergerac.
Storms and Fury #5
"Perish the Universe"
The starfield wheeled before Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes as the
Republic dreadnought began it's ponderous turn. The great
warship would take several minutes to manuever itself around to
face the star system on the outermost border of the Khamseng
Empire and several more minutes to creep it's way across that
border under the watchful eyes and guns of the smaller, alien
battleships that ringed her. The Praelis must not appear
threatening in any way, must not make any sudden or unexpected
moves. The Seng warships that englobed the great ship would be
only too happy to dissect the dreadnought and take the gutted
hulk back to their Emperor as proof of their triumph.
Tucking his hands into his cloak sleeves to warm his cold
fingers, Obi-Wan sighed and watched the unmoving starfield
revolve beyond the great vitriglass viewport. Almost
unconsciously he began to slow and deepen his breathing,
gathering the calm of the Force around him, feeling the
ever-present subliminal hum of the power grow louder in his
mental senses. His sense of the Force had grown so much in the
past year and a half it was hardly even an effort to call it
around him now. No longer that difficult balancing act of
relaxation and concentration. No longer a conscious effort,
really. Just a connection always present, like he had an inner
eye trained somehow "backwards" and "inwards". No "reaching".
Just...there.
Except when he truly needed it's guidance, when it could
suddenly assert itself into his mind and spirit like a bantha
with it's tail on fire. The thought brought a slight grin.
Trust in the Force, indeed.
One of the Khamseng ships swept into view below him with the
effortless grace of spaceflight, it's engines glowing a bright
yellow-green. It was a comparitively small ship for a warship,
perhaps only three times the size of a Corellian freighter. It
was obviously an alien ship, it's hull seemingly molded smooth,
all organic curves, sleekly aerodynamic. Most ships Obi-Wan was
familiar with were either the boxy, squared construction of
"working" ships like ore freighters or long-haulers, or the
clean long straightness of consular ships. These Khamseng ships
were shaped like flattened teardrops, sleek mirrored chrome
hulls bright with reflected light from stars and the
dreadnought. The blackened ports dotting the wing edges gave
mute testimony to the deadly force each of these deceptively
small ships could deliver. And there were currently eighteen of
the little hunters surrounding the Praelis.
That they had come here to escort the Republic ship under
supposed peace-lock did nothing to allay fears of the
unpredictable aliens.
But wasn't it always like that with the unknown, Obi-Wan sighed
to himself.
"Obi-Wan?"
The apprentice smiled a little and turned slightly as his
Master approached. "Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon Jinn answered the slight smile with one of his own as
he joined Obi-Wan at the huge viewport. Tucking his own hands
into his sleeves he, too, watched the Seng ship as it kept pace
just below them. Obi-Wan sensed the outward peace of his
Master, the Jedi serenity that was his shield and mask to the
world at large. But to the eyes of his Padawan and soulbonded
mate there was tension in the tall form, a shadow in the
blue-violet eyes. Worry threaded through their linked souls.
[I will be fine,] Obi-Wan sent softly, his eyes smiling up at
his Master's.
[Every instinct I have is screaming at me not to let you do
this,] Qui-Gon replied. [Yet I can't tell if it's the soulmate
side of me or the Jedi Master side of me.]
[Because it's both, oh great silly,] Obi-Wan sent back with
laughter skittering through the words.
[Indeed, Master Jinn, your protectiveness of your mate shows
well. But let the young fly on their own, sometimes you must,
if they are to grow.]
Both Master and Padawan tried not to startle at the unexpected
mindvoice in what was normally a very private and intimate mode
of communication for them. Both turned and bowed as the
slender, gray figure in metallic black approached.
Atavistic shivers and numb cold sluiced down Obi-Wan's spine as
he straightened and looked down into the alien's eyes. Aul'Khim
was a Psi-Corps telepath and as such carried the usual aura of
mystery and secrecy of that semi-covert organization. Yet
stronger than this was the sheer dreadful presence of the
alien. Perhaps five feet tall, humanoid insofar as it had two
legs, two arms, a torso and a head. Slick gray skin thick as
boot leather enclosing a form far too slender. Six fingers on
each hand, and the fingers themselves seemed to posess about
two more joints than a human's fingers would, attenuated and
almost skeletal. The bulbous, hairless head was dominated by a
pair of huge,opaque, fathomless, black slanted eyes. The slits
of nostrils and mouth seemed to be almost an afterthought,
merely for form's sake. There were no external ears but it was
quite apparent that Aul'Khim could hear vibration-based sound.
The alien telepath had once explained that his "ears" were
internal. Black, formfitting metallic body armor molded about
the alien's body, a kind of woven metal that moved fluidly with
the wearer's movements.
Obi-Wan swallowed and dropped his eyes from the alien's regard.
Before meeting the Psi-Corps telepath he had never heard anyone
but his soulmate's mindvoice in his thoughts. He had not been
aware that their sending could be heard by other telepaths and
the thought that strangers could hear what had been so precious
to him saddened him still.
Qui-Gon's fingers twined in his own as the sadness drifted
through his thoughts. [It's not that I am unwilling to let him
fly on his own, Aul'Khim, but that I worry for what may be out
there waiting to make him fall. The Seng are an unknown factor
here. This is the first contact with them. And Obi-Wan is --]
An apologetic smile down into his Padawan's eyes then, [
--Really still quite young.]
[Age has no bearing on wisdom,] the alien replied. [Nor on
ability. But we shall all await the turns of time and fate.]
"Master Jinn?" The first mate of the Praelis had
approached quietly while the three stood in silence by the
viewport.
"Yes, Commander?" Qui-Gon answered. "We have arrived?"
"In about twenty minutes, sir," the young woman replied
briskly. "If you'd like to make your goodbyes without being in
a hurry you might want to start down to the shuttle bay now."
"An excellent suggestion," Qui-Gon said with a nod. "Padawan?"
Obi-Wan's nerves thrummed all at once and the nervousness he'd
not felt before suddenly swamped him. "Yes, Master. Time to
go."
[Steady, love,] Qui-Gon murmured to him softly.
[I know, beloved,] Obi-Wan sent back just as softly. [I just
wish--I didn't have to do this alone.]
[I will admit it is a strange request,] Aul'Khim stated to the
two Jedi as all three turned and started for the turbolift
doors. The alien telepath's movements were quick, birdlike,
sometimes oddly disjointed. [But what I have gathered from what
little I could sense from them, the qualities they wish in a
first envoy are 'young' and 'warrior' and 'alone'. A senior
Jedi Padawan seemed to fit that description perfectly.]
[A Jedi Padwan alone,] Qui-Gon sent with some trepidation
threading through his words.
[You are a highly-skilled diplomat and negotiator, Master
Jinn,] Aul'Khim sent as the turbolift doors opened into a
brightly-lit and cavernous shuttle bay. [Obi-Wan has learned
somewhat of this from you, I should think. And your soulbond
will ensure that if Obi-Wan is cut off from contacting you
through normal means you will still be able to communicate. ]
[That is a possibility I shall not contemplate,] Qui-Gon
answered with a quiet rumble of dread.
[All factors must be accounted for,] the alien sent
mendaciously. [All possibilities countered, before they
happen. In this there is safety for all.]
Then why am I going there alone, Obi-Wan wondered around his
nervousness, and why does it feel like I'm walking into a trap?
Obi-Wan sat back in his blast chair and tried to relax but his
nervousness was making it difficult. Fortunately he had to
concentrate on the controls of the ship he flew and the
momentum of Jedi control instilled in him for most of his life
enabled him to keep himself going despite the attack of nerves.
[Take care, beloved,] Qui-Gon whispered into his mind. [I am
with you always.]
Nodding, Obi-Wan found that with that reminder he could relax.
Without the company of others he may be, but he was never
alone.
As the little long-range shuttle cleared the Praelis's
shadow, four of the Seng ships rose smoothly from their
stations around the great dreadnought and surrounded the
shuttle. One above, one behind, and one on either side.
All five ships turned toward the brightness of the dark orange
star shining close in the vastness of space. The Praelis
was to wait in orbit around the eigth planet of the system, a
blue-green gas giant ringed by rocky moons. Obi-Wan was to go
to the second planet of the system, a tiny inhospitable and
barely habitable world. As their soulbond had deepened over the
last eighteen months, Obi-Wan and Qui-on had discovered that
they could mindspeak over much greater distances. They would
still be able to speak over this distance now, but it would be
a strain after a few minutes.
The five small ships swept into the inner system, past the
asteroid belt between the fifth and sixth planets. As they did
so, two more of the little alien warships broke from orbit
around the fifth planet and sped to catch the little group,
slipping smoothly in front and below Obi-Wan's shuttle. Then
they were passing the fourth planet and it's double moons, one
of which looked to be inhabited, a mining operation from the
look of the terraced craters excavated in the gray lunar rock.
The third planet's orbit passed them, and they were sweeping
inward toward the small silvery jewel that was the Khamseng
outpost in this system.
As they approached the tiny cloud-shrouded world the light of
the system's primary broke over the limb of the little world
and Obi-Wan squinted against the glare --
--before realizing that he was already on the dayside of the
planet, and shouldn't be seeing the dawn.
A massive ship was rising over the curve of the planet, glowing
a fierce orange gold, reflecting the light of the nearby star
into Obi-Wan's dazzled eyes. A ship his sensors hadn't
detected. A ship so large he had mistaken it for the sun. And
it was moving with astonishing, disturbing swiftness straight
toward him, chromed as the smaller warships were, moving with
deadly single-minded purpose. It was like some fierce fang of
ice, a rounded elongated dagger shape.
As he watched, almost stunned, the great ship sped toward him
and showed no signs of slowing.
The Force shrilled in him suddenly, a warning that sliced all
the way through his soul.
[Beloved!] Obi-Wan couldn't help the cry that flew through his
mind then, the automatic reaching for his soulmate's touch.
[Obi-Wan?!]
The warships that surrounded Obi-Wan's shuttle suddenly peeled
off in dives and twisting ascents. The tractor beam hit the
shuttle and the force of it would have knocked the Padawan out
of his blastchair if he hadn't been strapped in.
[I hope that's just their way of saying hello,] Obi-Wan
grumbled to his soulmate as he wriggled a little so he could
retrieve his lightsaber from his belt.
Qui-Gon's mental laughter was reassurance and agreement and
affection combined.
Obi-Wan sat back in his chair and let the Force take his fears,
holding Qui-Gon's mental "hand" lightly as the tractor beam
pulled his shuttle inexorably toward the gigantic warship. Soon
enough he would need all his concentration for the first
contact. So he took the few moments of relative quiet when they
presented themselves, watching and seeing everything around him
with calmness. And as always, sharing all he was with his mate.
On the great golden-chrome ship, many pairs of eyes watched the
tiny white Republic shuttle as it crossed over the expanse of
smooth reflective hull in the pull of the tractor beam. The
great majority of those who watched were Seng. Yet two were
human ...or at least humanoid.
A figure wrapped in a black cloak stood at one of the oval
viewports, calmly watching the scene playing before him.
"So he is here," the figure said softly to himself.
The other humanoid figure standing silent and still in the
shadows of the viewport didn't answer.
Around them, the fluid curves of the Seng flagship undulated,
solid metal seeming to move and shift without motion as the
lights flickered on and off around the darkened interior. The
Seng moved in silence around them, equally fluid, like liquid
mercury, flowing over and around and up the curves and
protrusions of their ship. The Seng were not humanoid but
resembled blobs of chrome gelatin. Their sublight technology
was a sort of amalgam of ion and plasma technology. Their
hyperdrive technology was a complete mystery. No Seng ship had
been closely examined by any other power. Nor had any Seng been
examined that closely either. All that was known was that they
were extremely paranoid and extremely deadly.
And if not for a certain amount of persuasion, they would not
have been ready to talk.
"Amusing, is it not?" the figure in the cloak asked. "After all
this time I find myself doing the work of a Jedi, playing
diplomat and mediator. The universe has a sense of humor after
all."
The slightest of vibrations through the massive golden ship
indicated that Obi-Wan's shuttle had been attached to the Seng
flagship.
Watery sounds, glumps and squeaks, as the Seng reacted to the
third human on their ship.
"Prepare yourselves, my friends," the man at the window advised
the globular aliens.
The wall at the far end of the bridge rippled open smoothly and
Obi-Wan Kenobi walked slowly forward, carefully trying to avoid
stepping on any of the metallic blobs under his feet. Several
of the blobs surrounded him, oozing quickly over the floors and
walls around him. He wore the most bemused, wondering
expression, smiling slightly, blue-green eyes shining.
Then he saw the two humanoids in the shadows.
Xanatos turned slowly and put his hood back, watched with
satisfaction as Obi-Wan's eyes filled with horrified
recognition. "So nice to see you again, my successor."
The other figure moved into the silvery faint light, a piece of
the eternal night beyond the viewport, pure feline power.
Obi-Wan shifted his glance from Xanatos to the tattooed black
and red face, the short horns, the sheer presence of Darkness
and hate that roiled off the humanoid man in jagged,
dagger-like shards straight at the young Jedi's mind.
[MASTER!] Obi-Wan shrieked through the soulbond, [We've been
set up! It's Xanatos! He's here!]
And at that moment, even before Qui-Gon could respond, the Seng
ships spun as one to face toward their Empire, and the ship
blurred, elongated, and disappeared into a haze of spinning
absolute gray.
Obi-Wan toppled to the floor as his mind tried to tear itself
in two, his last conscious thought filled with Qui-Gon's scream
of pain as their soulbond was torn asunder.
[Obi-Wan?! Beloved?! Answer me! Where are you?]
"Where are those healers?" Aul'Khim's sibilant voice slid
easily over the deep-voiced whimpers of pain from the Jedi
Master writhing weakly under his hands. [Master Jinn! Tell me
what has happened to your Padawan! We must know!]
The Praelis' first mate and communications officer were
trying to help him hold the Jedi Master down as he convulsed
and tried to curl up in a fetal ball on the deck of the bridge.
The moment the Jedi Master had collapsed, the Seng ships that
still encircled the dreadnought turned as one, moved swiftly
away from the Republic ship, then seemed to ripple and distort
for a moment before vanishing in the blink of an eye. Aul'Khim
had felt the massive disorientation strike the Jedi as the
soulbond was snapped, barely managed to slam his own
mindshields up in time to ward off the explosion of spiritual
and mental agony that burst from the tormented mind.
[My fault, my fault, I should have gone with him, Damn you
Xanatos why did you do this...I should have gone with him...]
Xanatos. That name again. The alien telepath filed it away for
further thought as the medical team rushed from the turbolift
at last.
Aul'Khim knew he'd be needed to keep the Jedi's mind in one
piece until Padawan Kenobi could be found. Or to ensure that
the Jedi Master was swiftly delivered from his pain if the
apprentice were found to be dead. The Jedi Master could survive
the breaking of a soulbond. Shattered, battered, empty and
lifeless for the rest of his life, but he could survive.
If it had deepened to the logical conclusion of a lifebond
Aul'Khim would be holding a cooling corpse. If Obi-Wan could be
returned, the soulbond would reform and with time and care they
would recover.
As a telepath, his first instinct was to heal what he could of
the trauma of the Jedi's broken bond. As a Republic operative,
the mission had to come first. And both could be served by
finding Padawan Kenobi.
The alien telepath stood gracefully again as the healers lifted
Qui-Gon onto the hovering stretcher and began to guide him
toward the medical bay.
"Will he be all right?" The Captain of the Praelis asked
as they watched the delirious Jedi Master being taken away.
" 'All right' is such an ambiguous state, Captain," Aul'Khim
answered, then turned to look up at the Captain. "What did your
sciences officer record of the Seng hyperdrive?"
The Captain gestured to the bank of screens surrounding the
Cyllian science officer a few yards away. The telepath and the
Captain approached quietly, not wanting to disturb the
rapid-fire assimilation of information. Four of the central
screens were flashing whole pages of data in flickering burst
of images. Aul'Khim's huge slanted black eyes could make out
the individual images, but the human Captain could see only a
split-second flash of white on each screen. The Cyllian did not
have "eyes" but the slick black skin that covered the
featureless head was exquisitely light-sensitive. The Cyllians
communicated through computers, flashing bursts of invisible
ultraviolet light to a vocoder they habitually wore on their
uniforms or sometimes to other computers. The computers or
vocoders would then translate their signals to language.
Humanoid in shape if not in substance, their bodies were smooth
and featureless and slick silver-black.
Two of the screens above the Cyllian were showing views of the
departing Seng ships from various angles and at various speeds.
Another screen was rapidly filling with calculations.
"Any idea what that is, Fong?" the Captain asked of the
Cyllian.
A moment later the slightly droid-like voice of the vocoder
fastened to Fong's left wrist annouced, "I have my theories,
Captain, but I would like to confer with some of my staff
before I give an answer I'm willing to bet on."
"Best guess at the moment will do, Commander," Aul'Khim said to
the Cyllian.
The other alien turned slightly to look at the telepath. Then
the vocoder spoke again. "Best guess? They went into subspace."
"Subspace?" the Captain said with some astonishment.
"Yes, Captain. In theory it shouldn't be any more difficult
than going into hyperspace. It's the same action, just
different directions, so to speak. Like I said, I need to talk
to my people. This is going to require some major math to work
out if we're to follow the Seng. Course and trajectory
extrapolation is totally different."
"Math," Aul'Khim said in slightly shivery voice. Despite the
sibilance in his voice the Captain and science officer could
hear the note of not-quite-disgust.
"Yes, hyperdimensional math," Fong's vocoder said in
confirmation.
"I leave it to you then," Aul'Khim hissed quietly. "I was a
xenopsychology major."
The Captain tried not to grin at this. "Keep working at it,
Fong, and call me when you've figured it out. At your usual
efficiency, that should be less than an hour."
"Figuring it out is one thing, Captain, reprogramming the
sensors and writing entirely new tracking software is quite
another."
"Now, Fong, you know the techs and engineers enjoy a
challenge," the Captain said with a slight smile. "I'll be in
Medical, checking on the Jedi."
The Captain and the alien telepath headed toward the turbolift.
Something heavy was moving around and on top of Obi-Wan and it
was that peculiar sensation that finally harried his reluctant,
battered self back to consciousness.
He opened stinging eyes to find himself staring up at a bright
mirror-chrome ceiling, light dancing all around the slowly
undulating and reflective surfaces around him. And there were
several Seng moving around him, one had settled on his chest
and two were draped over his legs, one was burrowing into the
wide sleeve of his cloak. He thought the soft resilient surface
under his head might be one of the odd metallic aliens too as
it shifted beneath him occassionally.
After he registered the aliens nudging and moving about him in
curiosity, his first and only thought was of his bondmate and
the screaming agony that lanced through his mind and soul.
Qui-Gon. Oh Force. The soulbond was gone as if it had been torn
out and left him bleeding, and even the awareness they'd always
shared since he was thirteen was gone as well. Every sense told
him Qui-Gon was dead, every thought swept away before the
shriek of pain that he wanted so desperately to voice. He would
never stop screaming inside. The silence and utter freezing
emptiness, the broken shattered places in his mind that refused
to bear the weight of hope or delusion. There was no hope.
There was only reality. Qui-Gon was dead. He would be alone
until his body decided to lay down and cease functioning.
Heavy thunks and splats sounded around him and the Seng around
him shifted and he felt their weight leave him. A moment later,
he heard footsteps approaching and he sat up wearily, scrubbing
his tunic sleeve over his face. When he opened his eyes again,
Xanatos was standing in front of him.
Qui-Gon's former failed Padawan was some thirteen years older
than Obi-Wan. Six inches taller than Obi-Wan, willowy, pale
white skin and wavy black hair. His face was thin, high
cheekbones and a pointed chin, elfin. Wide silver-blue eyes
filled with a guilelessness that was a complete act. Obi-Wan
knew very well there was nothing behind those big silvery eyes
but black hatred. The ex-Jedi was dressed in a black version of
a Jedi uniform, the materials fine silks and light wool. The
purposeful and calculated grace of the former Jedi was more
than obvious to the soul-weary Obi-Wan. He was quite well aware
Xanatos was trying to be alluring. The very thought made
Obi-Wan start to feel sick.
And here they were, night and day, both of them orbitting
around their absent star.
Those silvery eyes fastened on Obi-Wan as Xanatos dropped
gracefully to kneel facing him. Obi-Wan drew his knees up and
wrapped his arms around them, tugging his cloak around himself
as he started to shiver. Several Seng were moving around them,
amoeba-like movements as they squinched and flowed along the
shiny floors and walls, sometimes dropping in heavy
splat-thunks from the walls to the floor. One Seng, a rather
large one, inched up beside the Padawan and drew itself up into
a lump, then leaned against Obi-Wan's arm and began pushing
itself up toward his shoulder. Obi-Wan felt the weight settle
across his shoulders and relax. Xanatos merely raised an
eyebrow.
"He soulbonded with you," Xanatos said abruptly in the silence.
"Our Master."
"*My Master," Obi-Wan corrected quietly. He tightened his arms
around his legs as the cold seemed to seep through the warm
wool of his cloak. The Seng across his shoulders was warm and
heavy, oddly comforting.
"That won't help," Xanatos said, gesturing as the Padawan
hugged himself against the chill. "Psychosomatic cold. Sympton
of a deep bond broken." One corner of Xanatos' mouth quirked
briefly in the smug cruelness of his grin. "I can't believe
Qui-Gon would be this stupid as to let his greatest weakness
get out of his sight. He must be getting senile in his old
age."
Obi-Wan didn't react to that. Whatever concept of Qui-Gon
Xanatos was thinking of, it wasn't the reality that Obi-Wan had
loved since he was thirteen. Neither the brilliant,
unconventional Jedi Master nor the passionate, laughing,
infinitely loving Qui-Gon with whom he shared his soul. Age had
no bearing on the spirit Obi-Wan loved in his Master.
And their bond had never beeObi-Wan's own silver and black.
He was faintly surprised to realize he didn't care anymore.
Xanatos followed his gaze and took Obi-Wan's lightsaber from
his belt, tossed it down at the apprentice's side. Before
Obi-Wan could ask why or even pick up the weapon an odd, barely
audible thrum shivered all around them briefly. The Seng that
still sat on Obi-Wan's shoulders shifted and dropped off and
began squinching it's way toward the wall. It was soon joined
by several of it's fellows, all of them heading for an oval
hole that had appeared in the wall.
"We've arrived," Xanatos said.
Obi-Wan just stared up at him for a long moment, then before he
could stop it words popped out of his mouth. "And with
necessity, the Tyrant's plea, excused his dev'lish deeds."
Xanatos smirked at the quote, obviously recognizing it from the
source they'd both heard it from, and replied in kind. "To
reign is worth ambition, though in Hell. Better to reign in
Hell, than serve in Heaven."
It was as if some odd sign and countersign had been exchanged,
or lightsaber blows. They snarled silently at each other,
Xanatos with contempt, Obi-Wan with listless despair.
Then Xanatos turned and walked toward one of the blank
mirror-like walls and it parted before him in liquid waves. On
the other side of that swirling circle, Obi-Wan saw the
motionless, nameless, threatening figure from before.
"Is our ship ready?" Xanatos asked.
"Yes," Maul answered expressionlessly. The voice was low,
quiet, and slipped like silk through the air.
"Then we'll leave him to the Seng," the former Jedi replied and
turned to taunt Obi-Wan one last time. "Take heart, Kenobi.
You're doing your duty! Making first contact with an alien
species--"
In one lightning move, Obi-Wan scooped his lightsaber up from
the floor and dived at his nemesis--
--and was blocked by a pair of droning red blades that whirled
in a circle, shunting Obi-Wan's blue blade away with ridiculous
ease, and a massive shove with the Force flung Obi-Wan back and
against the far wall of the room.
Xanatos came forward again, his own red lightsaber howling in
his hand now as he stood over the shaken Padawan. The humming
blade came to rest mere inches from Obi-Wan's throat. "Would
you rather I sent you back to our Master in pieces? I would
dearly love to."
"Do it," Obi-Wan snarled up at him. "There is no death, there
is the Force."
Xanatos chuckled at that. "Clever. But I'm not that stupid." He
whirled and strode quickly back to Maul, and the two swept away
down the corridor. Obi-Wan's view of them was cut off as the
wall once again reformed, rippling back to solidity with a
faint whispery noise.
Obi-Wan gathered himself up and tugged his cloak around him
again, put his head down on his knees. It was only when he felt
the gentle poking of Seng tendrils exploring that he noticed
the tears streaking down his face. Pseudopods of smooth liquid
metal curled around him, and after a little while he felt a
little warmer. After a little while longer in the soothing yet
alien presence, he fell asleep.
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,-so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!
Aul'Khim shook his gray, bulbous head and gave a remarkable
approximation of a human sigh. The skeletal six-fingered hand
fell away from the Jedi Master's face as the telepath moved
away. Poetry. Jinn's mind was filled with poetry, filled with
words and images that swirled in gentle twirling patterns like
a dance. Light in it's most elemental form of love and promise
and hope. The intensity and joy moved even the jaded Psi-Corps
telepath. But these were memories. The poem that repeated over
and over in endless mantra-like loops was a keen of
heartrending agony shot through with snatches of vision,
split-second flashes of Obi-Wan Kenobi over seven years of
shared life.
He suspected Jinn and Kenobi had been only weeks away from a
complete lifebonding. Perhaps only days.
The cool dimness and earth-tones of the medical bay around him
and the quiet of ship's night. The telepath looked up at the
steady blips of the vital signs monitors beside the bed and the
motionless stars outside the small shielded viewport. He
checked the chronometer, briefly surprised he'd been sitting
here holding Jinn's mind together for the last six and a half
hours.
The alien slid down from the edge of the bed and slipped out of
the small cubicle to the commpanel beside the door and keyed a
call to the bridge. "Captain?"
"Commander Fong here, sir. The Captain's off duty now."
"Commander Fong, yes, I wished to speak to you anyway," the
telepath answered. "What word on deciphering the Seng
hyperdrive?"
"Analysis proved that I was right. They did go into subspace.
But we are not certain as to the destination. We were too far
away to get a precise reading on trajectory, there were a
couple planets and moons in the way. But from general
direction, the Seng flagship was heading deeper into the
Khamseng Empire. And something else, sir. We intercepted a
transmission heading back toward the Republic."
A moment's pause, then the droid-like voice of the Cyllian
returned. "The Captain asked me to have you return to the
bridge should you wish the details, sir. We got orders just
before the Captain went off duty that the text and origins of
this transmission be kept confidetial and all discussion of it
kept off open channels."
"I see," Aul'Khim said softly. He turned and gazed back at the
sedated Jedi Master, the black depths of the fathomless eyes
showing no flicker of emotion. "Well. I shall be there
presently, Commander."
"Aye, sir."
The telepath terminated the transmission and wandered back to
the Jedi's side for a moment. Aul'Khim was certainly no expert
on Jedi or human physiology, but he could almost swear the big
human male had grown smaller and frailer in the last few hours.
All animation had left the Jedi Master with the snapping of the
soulbond.
[Master Jinn, why do I get the feeling this Xanatos you keep
referring to is more than simply a Telosian name?]
The hologram was small, the transmission brief and sent to an
anonymous comm number at a Corellian eatery on one of the lower
levels of Coruscant. More than likely the comm number was a
drop-off point for messages that would be automatically
forwarded at a given relay time in an encrypted form. Aul'Khim
settled gingerly in one of the leather-covered chairs of the
Praelis' senior staff ready room and nodded to the
Cyllian. Commander Fong keyed in the playback request and the
room lights dimmed as the transmission began.
A figure enshrouded in a black cloak, a human male. If Aul'Khim
had the scale factors right, the man would be tall and thin.
Dark-haired, pale skinned. The cloak covered him from neck to
feet and his clothing was obscured but looked to be dark
colored. The voice was cultured, smooth, tenor.
"All has gone according to plan. The boy is now the burden of
the Seng. Your assistance in this matter was most helpful. My
payment to you shall be forthcoming, as I've no doubt your
associate has informed you. I go to gather it now. Look for the
information on your desk when you arrive in the morning two
days from now. If you wish to make further arrangements I am
willing to listen."
The figure bowed and the hologram terminated.
Aul'Khim sat back in his chair and turned to peer out the
nearby viewport at the unfamiliar patterns of stars.
Could this be the 'Xanatos' Master Jinn kept referring to in
his delirium?
"It appears Padawan Kenobi was not the first contact with the
Seng," Commander Fong's vocoder said in the silence.
"No," Aul'Khim said in a soft rasping voice. "It sounds like a
set-up. A diversion. Obviously whoever this is, is working with
someone in the Republic. But to what purpose...unknown."
"This person in the hologram said something about payment.
Payment for Padawan Kenobi?" The Cyllian shook his head once.
"Slavery is outlawed in the Republic."
Aul'Khim was slightly amused. "Outlawed, yes. But it still
exists. But somehow I do not think this is slavery." The
telepath sat up abruptly and peered over at the featureless
flat face of the Cyllian. "Commander Fong, what's the delay
time for real-time communications to the Jedi Temple out here?"
"Five seconds. You need to call the Jedi Temple?"
"Yes. If I may have the use of a holocomm?"
The Cyllian rose from his chair and waved the alien telepath
toward the door. "The Captain said give you any assistance you
needed."
A few moments later Aul'Khim found himself standing in the
small cubicle, looking up at the glowing crystal eye of the
holocam as the transmission was patched through. Dimly he could
hear Fong's voice as the Cyllian spoke to what must be the
Temple's night-watch officer. Aul'Khim winced inwardly. He had
forgotten to check what time it was on Coruscant. But surely
one of their Jedi Masters being mentally torn in two was enough
of an emergency to warrant the intrusion.
Then a haze of visual static in the small space before him and
a hologram formed. Another tall human, this one in Jedi robes
that looked rumpled, dark skinned, hairless, looking tired.
"This is Councilor Windu. How may I serve?"
Aul'Khim straightened unconsciously to his full height and gave
a respectful nod to the Jedi. One of the Council, no less. "I
am Aul'Khim, Level 1 telepath, Psi-Corps, Contacts division.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn has been severely injured and --"
"Qui-Gon was injured?!" The Councilor's face lost it's
tiredness and instead filled with sudden tension. "Where's his
apprentice, Obi-Wan?"
"That is how he was injured, Councilor," Aul'Khim said slowly.
"You are familiar with their current assignment? First contact
with the Khamseng Empire, but apparently it was not a first
contact. In fact it looks like a set-up to me. Padawan Kenobi
was kidnapped and taken into subspace by the Seng, but we have
evidence the kidnapping was not truly the idea of the Seng."
"Oh gods," Councilor Windu said and put a hand up to rub his
eyes. "I assume you realized Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are
soulbonded?"
"Yes, Councilor, it was obvious to me the moment I met them. I
have been aiding Master Jinn as much as I am able. Councilor, I
have need of information and I hope the Temple can provide it."
"If it's ours to give, it's yours," Windu said with firm
conviction.
"When Padawan Kenobi was snatched away he managed to mindspeak
to Master Jinn. He mentioned the name Xanatos and afterwards
Master Jinn's thoughts circled around that name." Aul'Khim
peered at the Jedi for a long moment as the man's eyes widened
in astonishment. "And we have intercepted a transmission that
was headed to Coruscant which I suspect is this Xanatos person.
I shall have Commander Fong forward it to you if you wish."
"Xanatos," Windu said in a whisper. "He would plan
something like this."
"I take it the name is known to you," Aul'Khim said in a
neutral tone.
"Oh yes. He was Qui-Gon's Padawan before Obi-Wan. He left the
Jedi just before his ascension to Knight under somewhat
unfortunate and questionable circumstances."
Aul'Khim was amused at the verbal dancing of the Councilor. "I
see. Went to the Dark Side, did he?"
Windu grimaced but nodded once.
"Well, revenge might explain this kidnapping then, if he's
trying to get back at his former Master."
Windu gave the alien telepath an unreadable look for a long
moment, then looked around as if making sure he was alone.
"Tell your comm officer there I shall be sending several files.
Please keep these files confidential as they are Temple
training records. Everything you really need to know about
Xanatos and Qui-Gon will be in there."
"Understood, and thank you, Councilor," Aul'Khim said quietly.
"And in light of that transmission sent back to Coruscant and
who sent it...you may wish to increase security at the Temple."
Windu nodded wearily in agreement. "If you need to contact the
Temple again, ask for me specifically, Telepath. Or Jedi Master
Yoda, he was Qui-Gon's teacher."
"I shall." Aul'Khim bowed slightly as the holo transmission
blinked out.
So. A former Padawan out for revenge on his Master and dragging
the Republic into it just for fun.
"I don't get paid enough to watch this kind of melodrama," the
telepath muttered to himself as he left the holocomm booth.
Obi-Wan found no joy in waking. One moment he was dreaming, his
dream-self walking slowly into the Hall of Changes at home in
the Temple, alive with anticipation knowing Qui-Gon would be
sitting watching the great delicate sculpture's ever-changing
display. The next moment, he was opening his eyes on a bright
mirrored room, his soul broken, the screams only manifesting as
a half-dozen tears sliding silently out of bloodshot eyes.
Even in dreams he could not touch, could not see...
But then he saw the oval of star-shot darkness some few feet
away and realized they had returned to real-space.
He scrambled to the window and looked out, pressing himself to
icy crystal and gulping down his gasps.
Seng ships, hundreds of them, above and all around him, all in
orbit around the small planetoid that spun serenely below them.
In the distance he could see three other huge golden-chrome
ships like the one in which he was prisoner. But by far more
numerous were the silvery warships and some darker silver ships
that were even smaller, what he guessed to be the Seng
equivalent of fighter-interceptors. The tiny ships were
spherical and flew in circular formations of seven, skimming
along on the yellow-green fire. It was impossible to estimate
how many ships there were. The ordered ranks presented a
tapetstry of diamond pinpricks against the lunar backdrop of
the ravaged planetoid.
And the planetoid was ravaged. Even from orbit Obi-Wan
could see the hundreds of honeycombed craters, evidence of what
must be hundreds of years of strip-mining. There was no
atmosphere, it was a dead moon or possibly a huge asteroid
captured and deliberately placed in orbit. Light illuminated
the regular, ordered, hexagonal grid of the planetoid, cast
sharp-edged shadows of the crater walls and glittered softly
off the crystaline surfaces of the lunar rock.
Then he caught sight of one crater just appearing out of the
nightside of the planetoid. At first he thought it might be a
crater full of ice, but then he realized it was flowing and
undulating. And he realized it was Seng in that crater. Or more
precisely, a single Seng.
A Seng that filled an entire crater that must be a hundred
kilometers wide.
Yet as he watched the Seng in the crater below gathered itself
up, seemed to solidify and draw in on itself, and then rose
gracefully from it's lunar nest. As it leaped toward him he
realized it was a Seng warship.
Obi-Wan shook his head as he saw the Seng become the ship and
then assume it's place in orbit. He backed away from the window
and dropped to his knees, rubbing his eyes wearily and peering
suspiciously at the walls.
Outside the viewport, the ships -- the Seng? -- began moving
purposefully, the great armada of sparkling mirror-chrome ships
splitting according to some unknown rank and order. Obi-Wan
felt the great ship he was on pull up and out of it's place in
orbit and ascend easily into a higher orbit. It was soon joined
by perhaps half a dozen of the small teardrop-shaped warships
and two dozen of the smaller spheres of fighters.
As the ship ascended he saw other, different ships beginning to
appear over the horizon of the planetoid. A string of
featureless dull silver spheres moving slowly into far orbit
like moons around the planetoid, very much larger than even the
great golden-chrome ships of the Seng. He counted seventeen of
these new ships and wondered if they were another species of
the Khamseng Empire, for surely there were many other races
under the sway of the metallic aliens.
How Qui-Gon would have enjoyed this...
He took a deep breath and held it until his vision started
going dim, trying to contain the pain. For now, he had to think
of a way to get the Seng to take him back to the
Praelis. There would be plenty of time to scream and go
mad when he was safe back in the Republic. Plenty of time to go
mad when he watched Qui-Gon's body burn on the pyre.
He dug into one of his belt pouches and brought out the tiny
holoprojector and the graphicspad from another pouch and
plugged the pad into the holoprojector. As he worked two of the
Seng who were squinching their way past him paused and changed
direction toward him. Aul'Khim had suggested he try to
communicate to the Seng through numbers and geometry first,
then either through images or mathmatics. He suspected it was
going to take quite some time to construct common ground for
communications.
Sighing, he turned on the graphicspad and began to draw a
circle.
Yet the Seng reacted the moment he hit the power button on the
graphicspad. The two who were beginning to inch up around his
leg suddenly reared up and twisted toward the graphicspad in
his hand, and the one nearest shot out a tendril faster than he
could track. The graphicspad fell from his hand and both Seng
immediately folded up around it. He blinked as he watched his
graphicspad swallowed up in the Seng's liquid metal body.
"Hey! I need that!" Obi-Wan exclaimed as he heard a faint
crunching sound from within the Seng. "That's the only one I
have! What are you doing?!"
The Seng parted and rolled away and the crumbled pieces of
circuitboard and plastic and plexi skittered across the floor.
"Oh damn," Obi-Wan muttered as he retrieved the bits. Most
looked partially melted or ....chewed? "What did you do, eat
the damn thing?" He snatched up his holoprojector and hurriedly
stuffed it back in his beltpouch.
The Seng that had eaten the graphicspad now rolled a few feet
away and drew itself up into a lump, then the smooth surface
flattened and darkened and Obi-Wan saw images beginning to
appear, numbers, letters, geometric symbols. Then mathematical
equations and three-dimensional geometric constructs.
Representations of atomic structures. Representations of
crystalline and molecular structures. Representations of
humanoid DNA. Words. The waveforms of musical notes. Computer
machine language, programming languages, directory structures,
files. The image of the hyperdimensional construct used to
explain the theories behind hyperspace travel, the familiar
warp forms and energy fluxes.
Then a very familiar image filled the darkness, and in the
lower right corner a blinking bright green question mark.
"Coruscant," Obi-Wan said. "That's Coruscant."
The image changed to another familiar image, the sphere
construct dilineated by grid lines in three axises, and the
blinking question mark.
"The coordinates?" Obi-Wan asked. "You want the coordinates for
Coruscant? Why?"
The image faded, then another image abruptly appeared. The
Praelis. And yet again the blinking question mark.
"That's the Praelis," Obi-Wan answered, swallowing down
the sudden lump in his throat. Or at least trying to.
Another image replaced the dreadnought.
"Xanatos," Obi-Wan said with a grimace at the dark-shrouded,
pale-skinned figure.
Then the images blurred and changed and became a view of the
Praelis again and one of the small Seng warships
streaking by the dreadnought, sweeping past the great Republic
warship and into the Rim territory beyond. And then again the
image of Coruscant and then Xanatos and the mysterious stranger
who had accompanied the former Jedi.
Obi-Wan watched as the sequence of images flashed by again. A
Seng warship, Xanatos and the other odd creature, and
Coruscant.
Then the Seng projecting the images flashed the image of the
extradimensional warp diagram that was the representation of
hyperspace travel. The image began to move, rearranging, the
warp fields seemingly turning inside out and shifting to new
configurations. Obi-Wan leaned forward and studied the diagram
as the Seng projected the animation.
"Subspace?" he asked softly, disbelievingly. "You travel in
subspace?"
The sequence of images played through again, then an exterior
view of the great armada he'd seen around the ravaged
planetoid, and the ripple and distortion as the ships turned
and accelerated away on their yellow-green engine fire. With
hyperspace travel, a ship was there and then it was gone
between one blink and the next. He'd never seen that sort of
distortion before.
Then he realized --
Xanatos was planning invasion.
"Captain!"
Aul'Khim turned swiftly as the first mate's startled voice
sounded from across the bridge.
"Long-range sensors show a ship approaching at eighty-five
percent lightspeed," Commander Fong's vocoder said as the
Cyllian switched his attention in rapid succession from sensor
views to computer extrapolations of the sensor blip's course.
"ETA thirteen seconds."
"Identify," the Captain said as he made his way back to his
chair in front of the main viewscreen. "Luho, send Stop and
Identify in Standard and binary as soon as they're in range."
"Aye, sir," the Comm officer acknowledged as he began keying in
the request.
"They're not slowing down, sir," Fong said. "Visuals on main.
It's a Seng ship, sir."
"No reply yet, sir," Luhowiak said as the main viewscreen
switched from tactical display to magnified visual. The bright
glitter off the Seng mirror-like hull was familiar and
unmistakable as the warship sped toward the dreadnought.
"Hailing them will not work, Captain," Aul'Khim said as he
moved up beside the Captain's chair. "They can't understand us.
Their communications equipment might not even receive
transmissions in the frequencies we use, nor are they likely to
comprehend verbal speech."
"That's why Luho's sending in binary as well," the Captain said
as they watched the Seng warship approach. "Universal
language."
"They might not see that as language either, Captain."
"Maybe not, because they're still not slowing down," the
Captain said tensely. "Fong, range?"
"Ten AUs and closing, sir."
"Noth, charge up the ion cannons only," the Captain ordered.
"Do it as conspicuously as possible. Even aliens understand a
charged energy weapon pointed at them."
"Yes, sir."
Aul'Khim wrapped his hands about the zero-gee catch-bar beside
Commander Fong's sciences station as the glittering dot
resolved into the chrome teardrop shape of a Seng warship,
racing toward the dreadnought in purposeful flight.
"Shields up," the Captain ordered.
The Seng warship pulled up slightly and skimmed over the
gray-white hull of the dreadnought and in one breathtaking,
lightning move it flashed above the bridge viewports and
climbed away from the Praelis in a steep ascent before
rolling into a turn and disappearing in the rippled distortion
as it entered subspace.
"Commander Fong?" the Captain asked as the Seng warship
disappeared.
"Got it, sir," Fong answered in his droid-like voice. "Course
extrapolation coming through the navicomputer now." The Cyllian
watched his screens for a moment longer, then spun in his chair
to look toward the Captain. "They're headed for Coruscant,
sir."
"Luho, send Urgent to Fleet Command, the Jedi Temple, and
Admiral Taechaa at the Senate Military Commandery," the Captain
ordered. "Seng warship on course for Coruscant. Purpose
unknown. ETA to Coruscant, unknown. Reinforcements of Seng,
none detected at this time. Suggest heightened alert status and
security of the Inner Core worlds. Advise as to further orders,
Captain, Praelis. And Luho, tag on Fong's files on the
Seng subspace drive and our current position."
"Aye, sir," Luhowiak responded.
The turbolift door opened then and Aul'Khim looked up and
around at the familiar presence.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn lurched out of the turbolift trailed
by a medic, wrapped in his Jedi cloak and shivering, groggy
from the remains of the sedatives. His hair was dissheveled,
his eyes bloodshot and dazed, but the big man's eyes searched
around the bridge until they fell on the alien telepath.
"Xanatos," he rumbled, his voice hoarse. "I just felt his
presence less than a minute ago."
Aul'Khim and the Captain exchanged glances. The telepath moved
toward the Jedi and gestured him to follow into the bridge
conference room nearby. "Master Jinn, there is much you need to
catch up on."
Oh Force, what am I going to do?
Xanatos was using the Seng to invade the Republic, if invasion
it was. It could just be a raid, but knowing Xanatos he didn't
think that was quite grand enough for his bondmate's former
Padawan. The ex-Jedi had taken one Seng warship, so Obi-Wan
suspected it was going to be some sort of lightning strike at
some key or strategic target on Coruscant just to demonstrate
what he was capable of, then make demands with the threat of
greater force. Which targets, though? All of Coruscant was a
target rich environment.
Obi-Wan still sat on the floor of the mirror-chrome room, light
bouncing all around him from within the shining walls, the
mangled pieces of his graphicspad still gathered in his hands,
numb with the realization that he could do nothing with the
knowledge of Xanatos' intentions. The Seng could communicate
with him, after a fashion. But without the graphicspad or a
common language he could not communicate with them. His
translator was useless, the Seng had so far shown no ability to
communicate through sound. And now he had no means to return
images to them in the only form of communication they had in
common between them.
The great golden chrome ship was turning out of the light of
the system's star and the room was plunged into shadow then. In
his daze of numbness it was several seconds before Obi-Wan saw
the patterns of light in the walls and floor and ceiling around
him.
Streams of light, flickers moving like sparks or tracer shots,
along hairline pathways branching in all directions. As he
watched, one of the smaller Seng was inching it's way across
the floor and leaving a trail of light in it's wake that
crossed and re-crossed hundreds of the tiny lines of light that
pulsed beneath it. The whole room seemed to flow with light,
each individual spark tiny but in total surprisingly bright in
the dimness of the shadowy room. He held out his own hands and
looked at the traceries of light that covered his arms and up
the sleeves of his cloak to his shoulders...and realized that
everywhere the Seng had touched him they had left their trails
of light. He was covered in them, yet he felt no current or
power moving about him, not even in the Force.
Of course not, he admonished himself. It's simple light.
Was this how the Seng communicated?
Wondering, he reached back to the pouch that held his
translator and opened the small device, nodding a little as the
tiny screen inside brightened to life.
Across the small room, three Seng fell in splats to the floor
and began folding themselves over and over, rolling toward him,
seemingly attracted to the electronic device likely strong grip. He had a fleeting thought of Sarlaacs
and tentacled sea creatures, wondered at what point he should
try to dissuade them with his lightsaber. Then reconsidered as
he imagined what they could do to his weapon.
The Seng were sending tendrils spiralling up his leg when the
translator finally beeped and flashed "Analysis complete:
Ready."
Trying to still his shaking hands, Obi-Wan hurriedly keyed in
"Do not destroy this device, it is a translator and I cannot
talk to you without it."
The translator's lightcoder, normally used as an emergency
signaller, flashed out the message in a burst of flickering
light.
The three Seng trying to climb up his legs froze instantly,
then the tendrils and metallic weight moved away hurriedly.
"Can you take me back to my ship?" Obi-Wan muttered as he keyed
the request in. "Xanatos must be stopped, I must warn my
people."
The translator flickered out the question and he keyed the
incoming messages to be spoken through the translator's
vocoder.
"Who is Xanatos?" came the predictable question almost
immediately in the stilted, synthesized voice of the
translator.
"The other human who was here before me," Obi-Wan said as he
keyed it in. "He intends to use your ships to harm my people. I
must warn my people before he gets back to our capitol planet."
There was a long moment of silence in the dim little room.
Obi-Wan all but held his breath, waiting for their answer.
It never came. A moment later, the great golden chrome ship
slowly whirled on it's axis and the stars and the darkened
planetoid beneath them vanished in a haze of gray light.
Obi-Wan slumped down the wall with a sigh of relief. "Are you
taking me to my ship?" he keyed next.
"Yes. Name of ship?"
"The Praelis," Obi-Wan keyed in the answer gratefully.
"My gratitude for returning me to my people." Then he bit his
lip and thought about how he could ask the next obvious
question without offending the metallic aliens. "Do the Seng
intend to invade the Republic?"
Silence again for a moment, then, "Undecided. The Seng who went
with Xanatos are to discover if your worlds contain that which
we could use."
"Would the Seng consider peaceful co-existance and trade
between our people?" Obi-Wan asked. "There is no need for war
if we can understand each other and find useful means of
exchange."
"Possible. We will consider your words."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan whispered as he keyed it in, then leaned
back against the wall and closed his eyes.
He was returning to the Praelis. Xanatos was on the
loose with an alien warship on the prowl. And his bondmate...
Somehow he must find the strength of heart and mind to survive
this. Somehow.
"I hold it true, whate'er befell,
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all."
The words drifted through his mind and he could almost hear
Qui-Gon's deep voice. The tears began again and this time he
could let himself grieve for there would be no time for it
later. The only thing he had left was his duty. Qui-Gon would
never forgive him if he turned away.
"Captain! Ship --sorry, make that ships -- appearing on
long-range sensors," Commander Fong said some two hours later.
"They're approaching at fifty percent lightspeed and I count...
Captain, there's four hundred fifty ships. Seventeen are of
unknown origin, four hundred thirty two are Seng."
The Captain glanced over at the Cyllian and suppressed a grin
at the science officer's words. "That makes four hundred
forth-nine, Fong.What's the odd man out?"
The droid-like voice could hold no emotions but there was
triumph in the words all the same. "One of ours, sir. Padawan
Kenobi's shuttle."
Qui-Gon whirled where he stood at the viewport and stared at
the Cyllian. Beside him, Aul'Khim straightened and went still
and Qui-Gon sensed the peculiar psychic coolness that heralded
the use of the alien telepath's abilities.
[It's him, he's alive!] Aul'Khim's voice rang in astonishment
in Qui-Gon's mind. [Go, Jedi, get down to the shuttle bay NOW!
He thinks you're dead!]
The telepath's words were sent to empty air. Qui-Gon was
already disappearing into the turbolift.
[Padawan Kenobi?]
Obi-Wan tried yet again to swallow down the lump in his throat
and sank back into the blast chair of the little shuttle,
breathing deep and slow, methodically banishing the anguish
back into the Force along with the muscle tension. [Aul'Khim?]
A wordless assent from the alien telepath. [Prepare yourself,
the tractor beam will lock on in a few seconds.]
[Understood,] Obi-Wan answered, seeing the same information on
his controls as the Praelis signalled it would initiate
tractor lock to haul the shuttle back into the shuttle bay. A
moment later the yellow beam arrowed out from below the shuttle
bay door and control of the little ship was usurped by the
dreadnought's computers.
Then he felt it.
[QUI-GON?!]
The soulbond exploded back into life as once again it felt like
all the joy in the universe came flooding into his mind and
heart, he felt once again with stunning clarity every shading
of emotion from the only mind he had ever truly known outside
his own. The stars pinwheeled into shards of rainbow light, his
mind filled with one endless joyful keen, he shivered with
chill and burned with fever at the same time, and he burst out
laughing as he felt the delirious recognition of his touch
within his beloved's mind.
[You're alive! I thought you were dead!]
The sending was shared, sent simultaneously, with such
amazement it was comical. Obi-Wan burst out laughing as the
shuttle hovered into the shuttle bay and turned into it's
landing square.
Then he was tearing in frantic haste at the webbing straps of
the blastchair and cursing at his fumbling fingers, but then
found he had two pairs of hands unlocking the harness. He was
hauled unceremoniously out of the blastchair and clutched with
desperate strength, his hands full of silky silvered-brown hair
and his face buried against the warmth of his bondmate's neck
and the deep rumbling voice that calmed him even in sleep was
whispering in his ear, in his mind, in his soul.
"And from the dark secluded valleys
I heard the ancient songs of sadness
But every step I thought of you
Every footstep only you
And every star a grain of sand
The leavings of a dried up ocean
Tell me, how much longer?
How much longer?"
Obi-Wan knew the words, it was a song they'd heard once from a
band of minstrels at a faire not long before they had
soulbonded. The echoing need had spoken to them both, though
neither had known it at the time, of their need for each other.
Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon into a trembling kiss and answered in
his mind.
[And through a million stars were shining
My heart was lost on a distant planet
That whirls around the April moon
Whirling in an arc of sadness
I'm lost without you I'm lost without you
Though all my kingdoms turn to sand
And fall into the sea
I'm mad about you
I'm mad about you]
Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled and he loosened his fierce embrace a
fraction so Obi-Wan could breathe, then took his Padawan's face
in his hands to peer closely into the glowing blue-green depths
of his eyes. Obi-Wan looked up smiling into those beloved
blue-violet eyes and continued with another verse of the song
in a softer mindvoice:
[With every prison blown to dust
My enemies walk free
I'm mad about you
I'm mad about you]
With that, Qui-Gon's eyes shadowed with worry and he nodded
slowly. [I know, beloved. His ship passed by us about two and a
half hours ago. The Captain has already sent a message ahead to
Coruscant and the Fleet is deploying to stop him.]
[I don't know if it will help,] Obi-Wan sent with a shake of
his head. [The Seng travel through subspace so placing mines in
hyperspace won't work.]
Qui-Gon nodded. [We know, beloved. Commander Fong and his staff
discovered the Seng's subspace capabilities. Oh, by the way,
what about your friends out there?]
[Friends?]
[The Seng.]
Obi-Wan looked up at his bondmate in confusion. Qui-Gon gave
him an amused look, then tugged him out from behind the shuttle
and pointed out the force-shielded shuttle bay door into space.
The Padawan gasped as he saw the pinpricks of diamond fire that
were the Seng armada.
"They followed me?!"
"Apparently, beloved," Qui-Gon said with a grin and tucked
Obi-Wan's trembling hand into his cloak pocket with his own.
"If you ask 'can I keep them' I"m going to chase you around the
shuttle bay."
Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed at the vast armada and then turned
back to his bondmate, oblivious to the smiles of the crew
members converging on his shuttle around them. Then he
remembered the last few hours and swiftly retrieved his
translator from his belt and held it out to his Master. "Here!
I figured out how they communicate!"
Qui-Gon put his hands around the translator and folded
Obi-Wan's fingers around it again. "Then let's go tell the
Captain and Commander Fong and Lieutenant Luhowiak. I'm sure
they'll be very thankful that they can now say 'Don't shoot' in
yet another language."
Obi-Wan snorted a laugh but then blushed a little as Qui-Gon
once more tucked the apprentice's hand inside his own in his
cloak pocket and turned to lead him up to the bridge of the
Praelis.
The End ...for the moment.
To Be Continued in Storms and Fury #6, "So Long As I Have My
Revenge"
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