TITLE: Dark Sacrifice 18/36
AUTHOR: Cara & Quintus
E-MAIL: [email protected]
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Pre-TPM, Jedi Apprentice, Original Characters
ARCHIVE: Yes. Please keep headers intact.
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement intended, no profit is being made from this fiction. All original characters and story belong to the authors.
FEEDBACK: Constructive feedback appreciated.
TIME FRAME: Pre-TPM @ 1-2 years
SUMMARY: When Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan join a diplomatic mission to the planet Sahmly II, they uncover a strange vergence in the Force, centered around a young padawan whose actions may determine far-reaching changes in the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan’s decisions about the padawan could save the boy's life, or drive him to the power of the Dark Side.
DARK SACRIFICE
By Cara & Quintus
Chapter 18
Qui-Gon stood before the door to Ak'ra Dushiko's quarters, a hand on Remii's shoulder. He subtly infused the young padawan with calmness once again, then pressed his free hand to the panel. "Qui-Gon Jinn."
The door opened immediately. Ak'ra Dushiko face was inscrutable, but Qui-Gon felt the anxiety that rolled off the man. It lessened noticeably as Dushiko saw his padawan.
"Remii."
"Master." Remii pressed backwards, against the security of Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon allowed it a moment before dropping his hand from Remii's shoulder and giving the boy a gentle nudge forward.
Calm, Padawan. Apprehension is unbecoming a Jedi.
Dushiko surprised Qui-Gon by stepping forward and placing large hands on either side of Remii's face. Black eyes peered into brown ones. "Are you well, Padawan?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good." Dushiko dropped his hands. "To bed, young one. It is late."
"Yes, Master." Remii walked into the room without a backward glance.
Dushiko pulled the door closed behind him and looked at Qui-Gon. "Thank you for bringing him back."
Qui-Gon inclined his head. "He was returning when we found him."
Dushiko glanced at him sharply. "Indeed."
"He was fearful, Ak'ra. It shouldn't be like this."
"I know. I have meditated extensively on it. I do not understand. I demand discipline, and control, but no more so than my other apprentices. They did not protest. Or fear me." Dushiko looked at Qui-Gon. "I do not hate the boy. I've grown rather… fond of him, despite his disobedience. I do not understand," Dushiko repeated, rubbing a hand over his face, "My intentions are good, but somehow they are being waylaid."
"Or redirected?"
"Precisely."
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes. "I think when this mission is over, we should get together and discuss your padawan - and his penchant for 'pushing buttons'. I believe you were correct in your observations. Remii manipulates the Force in ways he is unaware of. It is an ability that could become dangerous if not tempered."
"Agreed." Dushiko frowned a moment. "I will keep Remii too busy the next few days to get into trouble. That will buy us time."
Qui-Gon finally nodded. His sense of disorder in the Force did not dissipate with Dushiko's assurances. But the padawan belonged to the master. He would let the matter rest.
~~~~
Remii awoke in the morning to Dushiko shaking his shoulder.
"Remii! Wake up."
"Is it time for saber practice already?" Remii asked. He rubbed his eyes, and yawned, unsure if the darkness in the room was due to the early hour or his own sleepy state. The remnants of a bad dream cleared from his mind. People dying by the hundreds, but he did not tell his master about it.
'We will not practice this morning, Padawan. I am needed by Master Toock."
Remii sat up and noticed no light coming through the parted curtains by the windows, and that his master was fully dressed and buckling on his utility belt and light saber. "What time is it, Master?"
"It is four past the middle night hour. I did not want you to wake up and find me gone." Dushiko picked up his cloak and placed it around his shoulders. "I left lessons for you to do. You are also to meditate for six hours. It is important for you to meditate and clear your thoughts. We will discuss yesterday's - incident - when I return."
"But-"
"You are also to do those additional three answers to the Saktarian Problem as we discussed." Dushiko turned away.
"No."
Dushiko turned around slowly. "What did you say?"
"No." Remii swallowed hard. "I do not wish to do three more answers. Mine is correct."
Dushiko sighed heavily. "I am highly disappointed in you, Remii. You will do three more answers."
"I won't."
"I do not have time for this, Padawan."
"Don't go. Stay here…" Remii looked up at his master. "Please?"
"I have to go, Padawan. Master Toock needs me."
"I need you!"
"Your attitude does not become a Jedi, Padawan. I suggest you meditate on your manner and seek to remedy it." Dushiko looked at his apprentice and sighed again. "There has been an explosion in one of the outlying city sectors. Many were injured. Our negotiations hang by a thread. I must go."
Remii threw his legs off the side of the bed. "I can help. They may need a healer."
"No. You will stay here." Dushiko raised a hand. "No arguments, Padawan! Not now. It is dangerous out there. When the Council assigned me to you, they made it clear you were to stay out of harms way. Healers are too precious to risk. Even Padawan healers."
"But I'm not really a healer," Remii said bitterly. "You never let me do anything! How am I to learn?"
"I do not have time for this, Remii. I am already late. When you learn to discipline yourself and your outbursts, perhaps I will reconsider. Meanwhile, you are to stay here. In these rooms. Do your lessons. Meditate on your failings. We will take saber practice when I return."
Remii started to speak.
Dushiko raised a hand. "Do not try my patience, Padawan. It took me many hours to reach a balance. I cannot afford to lose it during the negotiations. Do as you are told. Stay here." Dushiko went to the door, and spent a minute recoding the security device. "We will talk when I return." He walked out the door and pulled it firmly shut behind him. The lock clicked with ominous finality.
Remii swung his legs back onto the bed and wrapped his arms around them, then rested his head, attempting to swallow past the lump in his throat. I was not chosen. I am not needed. I'm an assignment, nothing more. Remii buried his face in his hands and tried to stifle the sobs, but they snuck out between his fingers. The more he tried to suppress them, the harder he cried, rocking back and forth until the torrent slowed, then stopped. "Master… why don't you want me?"
There was no reply. The Force hung, silent, its shimmering presence impenetrable, while on the fringes, darkness waited.
"Master?" Remii traced the thread that bound them, it ran strongly towards the Weapons Master, but the return thread was faint. Remii could reach out, strengthen it, and connect with his master. Remii touched Dushiko's mind as lightly as he could, and stopped in shock. Dushiko blocked him! His master did not want contact with his padawan. In his mind, Remii built a similar wall between himself and his master. Childish, but it made Remii feel marginally better.
Dispirited, Remii got up and dressed, then picked up his flutepipe. He could usually drive back the darkness with music. But even the crystal tones of the Force failed to reduce the dull ache inside. He let the flutepipe fall from his fingers, and sat, eyes closed.
The chime of the announcing panel startled Remii out of meditation several hours later. It took several more tones to remember where he was and what the sound meant. He scrambled to his feet and went to the door, curious as to why it did not relay the visitor's name. He pressed his palm to the panel. Nothing happened. He tried several more times, with no result. Remii thought back to his master's manipulations with the security device. So he was locked in the rooms also. Remii fought a surge of temper.
"I don't want to talk to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Go away."
The panel chimed again.
He jumped when the door panel slid back. Ga-Ree-Jen stood in the opening, one hand holding a flat piece of duraplastic with the Diplomatic Residence emblem against the announcing panel. She tucked it into the pocket of the short green apron-cloak she wore over blue leggings and gazed at him.
"Master Jedi. We have need of your services."
"Services?" Remii stared.
"There has been an explosion. Many were injured. We need you," she said simply. "Will you come with me?"
Remii hesitated.
"You can heal the injured, Master Jedi. We need you," she repeated.
"Let me get my things." Remii ran around the room, fastened on his utility belt, loaded the pouches with med supplies from Master Dushiko's carryall, and grabbed his brown robes. He fastened the light saber and the flutepipe to his belt and swung the cloak around him in a quick motion, securing the fastening with one hand. "Let's go." He left with Ga-Ree-Jen, and let the door slam shut behind him.
--Continued in Chapter 19--