TITLE: Dark Sacrifice  5/36

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

DARK SACRIFICE

By Cara & Quintus

Chapter 5

Obi-Wan found Remii just inside the kitchen with one of the servers. The Sahmlian looked nervous, with good cause. People of his caste were not supposed to address the guests, just silently serve. Of course, to refuse to answer a direct question would have been impolite; Obi-Wan had no doubt Remii questioned the server the minute he walked in the door. The boy seemed insatiably curious.

The Sahmlian's eye rills fluttered alarmingly as Obi-Wan walked up.

Remii glanced around and gave the Sahmlian a look and a nod. There was a familiarity to the gesture that intrigued Obi.

"Obi-Wan, this is Ga-Ree, he said we can go through the kitchen back door and reach the courtyards if we want. No one but caste servants work in the kitchens."

"Thank you, Ga-Ree," Obi-Wan said politely.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, the man smiled and replied in Basic. "My pleasure, Master Jedi." The Sahmlians rills flared impressively. "Have you hunger? My caste mate is… cook. She wishes to meet these Jedi she has heard about."

"If it wouldn't harm anything, I am hungry," Remii answered quickly. "I would like to meet your caste mate. I haven't met many of your people." He looked at Obi-Wan and shrugged. "I didn't get First Meal, we were practicing." Remii followed the caste server back through the labyrinth kitchen, Obi-Wan trailing.

Obi-Wan was bemused by this side of the apprentice. Gone was the shy, indecisive youth from saber practice.

"Master Jedis, this is Ga-Ree-Jen," the caste server announced proudly. The female Sahmlian was impressively built, verdant skin stretched tight across an ample frame, she was also taller than her mate. Her presence held none of the subservient quality the other kitchen workers seemed to wear like clothing. Her rills flapped quickly at her mate. Ga-Ree's rills flared in return. When he finished, she turned to look at Remii. Ga-Ree let out a gasp as the woman felt Remii's arm through his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he squealed. "Oh, we'll all be lowered!"

"Nonsense," Ga-Ree-Jen replied. "He is Master Jedi. Jedi have treated the Ga Scree with credit thus far. This one does not scorn us." She smiled down at the padawan. "But you are far too thin. You would not make a good snack even for an Arrcat." She made a clucking sound with her tongue, and reached for items on her workstation. In short order she handed Remii and Obi-Wan two plates with mountainous slabs of what she said was grilled Breeck, green bread, and a purple, gelatinous substance called Pak. "There is a table in the back for us. You may sit there if you wish." The faceted emerald eyes studied them. "If you wish," she repeated.

"Thank you," Remii said. "We will sit." He gave a polite bow, led the way to the table at the back and hooked a leg over a stool.

Obi-Wan again was impressed by the youth's confidence and manners. He followed, juggling the full plate, then glanced up, suddenly nervous. The gaze of every server in the kitchens was on him. Eye rills worked overtime, but nobody said a word. Ga-Ree-Jen appeared and plunked down a pitcher of jade liquid and two mugs.

"Masta milk. It will make you strong." She glided away.

Obi-Wan eyed the steaming mix doubtfully, but Remii just grinned and poured it into the mugs. "All this smells much better than that food they had at the welcome banquet," he said.

"That was awful," Obi-Wan agreed. "I had to eat some of the appetizers because my master handed me a plate. The blue ones tasted like speeder bike parts."

"One of the servers took my plate away before I could try it," Remii said with an innocent look.

"Let me guess... Ga-Ree?"

Remii just grinned and scooped up some Pak with the greenbread and shoved it into his mouth.

Obi-Wan took a big bite of the Breeck sandwich on his plate. It was chewy, and spicy, and tender, all at the same time. Before he realized it, he had finished and licking his fingers. He jumped as a silent server appeared at his elbow, ready to take the plate. "I can get it," he protested. The server just tugged the plate out of his hand and disappeared. The same thing happened when he finished the milk.

Remii spoke softly to the silent serving man, but had no better luck. He looked at Obi-Wan, and shrugged. "I guess we better go..." As they stood, there was a crash from another part of the kitchen, and a shriek of pain. Both apprentices darted in that direction. They found a group of Sahmlians around a female server who thrashed on the floor clutching her arm. A pot of oily liquid lay on its side nearby, still smoking. Remii dropped to his knees beside the woman and spoke soothingly.

"Let me see your arm."

He got frightened trills in response.

"I can help, please, let me see!" He reached for her arm.

The woman held a hand up in fright, trying not to be touched by him. She tried to get to her feet, only to fall back, groaning.

A signal over the door toned, and several of the Sahmlians squealed nervously. They returned to their stations, scooping food onto plates while they tried to watch Remii and the woman at the same time.

Remii looked up. "Ga-Ree, tell her to let me see her arm!"

Ga-Ree wrung his hands. "I can't. She doesn't want you to touch her, she's frightened. If we do not do our jobs, we will be replaced. Then we will fall to a lower caste!"

"I can help!" Remii said sharply. "But only if I do it soon. If it is not fixed, gangrene will set in as the burned flesh dies, and her arm may have to be amputated. What caste will she be then?"

Several of the remaining Sahmlians gasped. The old, disfigured, and infirm roamed the streets of Sahmly City, lower than even the Ro Scree.

"The young one speaks true. Maybe he can help. I say we let him," Ga-Ree-Jen said. She ignored the bell toning over her workstation and spoke to the woman in Sahmlian. Eyes wide, the woman nodded.

"He will touch her," one of the Sahmlians protested. "They will caste lower her anyhow."

"They won't find out from me," Remii said. He looked behind him. "Obi-Wan, find some clean clothes. Ga-Ree, I need some water."

Ga-Ree and Ga-Ree-Jen looked at each other as their station bells chimed again. "We cannot help you anymore, young one," Ga-Ree-Jen said regretfully. "I will lose my place here if I do not hurry. Many outside depend on me." She hurried to her workstation. Ga-Ree shot off for the dining room.

"Obi-Wan," Remii pleaded. "Please?"

"I'm not sure, Remii…"

"I know what I'm doing. I have to help, Obi-Wan. I have to. Please?"

Obi-Wan looked into the earnest brown eyes of his fellow padawan and weakened. Remii seemed supremely confident that he could help the woman. "Cloths and water," Obi-Wan repeated. "Right." He ran around the huge kitchens looking, and snatched several cloths from the hands of caste servants, grabbed an empty bowl, filled it with water from a hand fountain, and took it back to Remii.

The apprentice crouched by the woman and spoke to her in soothing tones. He turned at Obi-Wan's approach, grabbed the cloths, and tore them into strips. Remii washed his hands in the water, then set it aside. He soaked off the worst of the oily liquid before he wrapped the cloths around the woman's raw, blistering arm. Remii placed his fingertips over the bandaged arm and closed his eyes. His lips moved, silently chanting to himself. The cloths steamed and began to tinge a faint green as the oil was drawn from the wound.

Obi-Wan could feel tremors in the Force, minute eddies that swirled and flowed. In his mind's eye he saw colors churn and form into a vortex. Pieces were plucked out, and rearranged, replaced into the matrix. Fascinated, he watched Remii concentrate for long minutes and felt the youth channel the Force through himself into the woman. Other channels existed in the Force, centered around Remii and the woman. Suddenly, Obi-Wan became aware of a shadow, strands of black that snuck in and wound around the vortex, an eddy of darkness. Nervous, his head shot up and he looked around the kitchen wondering what, or who could have caused it. The Sahmlians hurried by, carrying out the mid morning meal to the guests. They shot glances at Remii and the moaning woman as they passed.

The taint of the Dark Side grew stronger, enough so Obi-Wan circled the kitchen and looked for it, fingering the light saber by his side. It seemed to flow towards the concentrating padawan, and Obi-Wan wanted to deflect any danger before it could break Remii's intent touch. The fragments of dark grew discordant, jarring Obi-Wan's senses. He pushed at the dark thread with the Force, instinctively seeking to drive it away. It resisted, so Obi-Wan gave it a shove.

As suddenly as it blossomed, it vanished. Still wary, Obi-Wan returned to Remii. The apprentice sat on his heels by the woman, face flushed, padawan braid dripping sweat.  He removed the cloths, dipped them in water, and wrapped them around the arm, and placed his hand over them. After a minute, Remii opened his eyes. "I can't do it... I can't finish...her anatomy is different than I am used to. I lost it, I can't find the key..." His voice was soaked with exhaustion and he looked about to cry.

Obi-Wan knelt next to him, and lifted up one of the cloths. The woman's arm was bright green, but it was not the deep, debilitating wound it had been many minutes ago. "It's better, Remii. Look..."

The boy nodded tiredly. "Perhaps she can get through the days work with it like that. Burns are some of the hardest things to heal; you have to repair them layer-by-layer on the cellular level. I don't have the ability yet." He wiped his arm over his forehead and sighed heavily as he unwrapped the discolored cloths and discarded them for fresh ones he treated with an ointment from his belt pouch.  Remii bandaged the woman’s arm and tucked the ends neatly.

The woman opened her eyes, and said something in a Sahmlian dialect. Her eye rills were wide, and fluttered slowly.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand..." Remii looked around for help. Obi-Wan shrugged.

Just then a Sahmlian rushed in from the dining room, dropped his tray with a clatter on a table, and darted to the woman's side. Trilling urgently, he pulled the woman to her feet and pushed her toward her workstation. The others in the kitchen set up a general trill of panic and began to rush around.

Obi-Wan and Remii looked at each other. "What's going on?" Remii asked.

"I don't know, but I don't think we should here. It could only make things worse for them." Even as Obi-Wan spoke, several of the Ga cleaned up around them and made shooing motions. They were careful not to touch either of the young men. Their motions became more frantic as the padawans hesitated.

"I can take a hint," Obi-Wan said. He reached down and tugged Remii to his feet, and guided the other youth toward the back door they had been told about earlier. Outside in the bright sun, Obi-Wan blinked. The sapphire hedges towered around him, no longer friendly. The winding stone paths looked like a maze. He reached out with his senses, cautiously. He found no darkness. All was quiet on the path to their right. He tugged Remii in that direction. The youth staggered alongside, face chalky. Several turns into the hedges Obi-Wan began to relax. Remii looked at him, and his eyes began to roll back in his head. He swayed on his feet and would have fallen if Obi-Wan hadn't grabbed his arm.

"Remii?" 

"I need to find a meditation garden, Obi-Wan... Some place quiet… " Remii's voice sounded strained, and there was an underlying tinge of panic. His face was very pale and he looked as if he were about to be sick.

Worried, Obi-Wan turned his senses to locating the oasis of calm that marked the small, private retreat areas. One was nearby. He headed in that direction, tugging Remii along with him. Two turns inside more landscaped hedges and they were in another world. Green, blue and peach colored plants waved quietly in an unfelt breeze, while water trickled over a small decorative fall. Obi-Wan tipped his head, and heard tiny Ri birds, and small bells. The Force was strong in this place, and serene. He turned to his companion. "Is this okay?"

Remii staggered towards one of the small fishponds, shed his cloak, utility belt, and tabard as he went. He struggled to remove the over tunic, fought it and finally yanked it over his head and tossed it aside. He pulled off his boots, and dropped them in the azure grass. Remii sank to his knees, and tipped his head to the sky, eyes closed. His hands went out from his sides in a pleading gesture, he stayed that way for several long minutes before his expression calmed, and he slid into a more normal meditation position.

Obi-Wan gave the youth his privacy, found a patch of grass on the opposite side of the garden, and sank into his own meditation. When he opened his eyes sometime later, Remii lay sprawled on his side in the grass. Alarmed, Obi-Wan jumped to his feet and went over. When he noticed the steady rise and fall of Remii's chest, Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. The boy was just exhausted.

The sun highlighted Remii's bare back. Frowning, Obi-Wan studied it. Fading bruises and saber strike lines. Two hours of dueling was bound to leave some marks. Dushiko's morning training must be intense. It seemed particularly brutal considering the youth of the padawan. Qui-Gon did not push Obi-Wan that hard, not without reason.

Obi-Wan wondered why Remii hadn't healed himself, since he obviously had the talent. He reached out with his mind, not quite intending to invade the other apprentice's thoughts, but curious about everything that didn't add up.

Even at rest, Remii's thoughts roiled with emotion. Anxiety predominated, then concern for the injured woman, and worry about his master. There were flashes of color, browns mainly, and some blues. When something darker tinged in color and thought rose, Obi-Wan withdrew. He retreated across the garden, and sat, watching, until Remii awakened with a start an hour later. The apprentice rolled over, sat up, and groaned, clutching his head.

"Are you okay?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes, I just have a splitting headache." Remii rubbed his face and looked at Obi-Wan. "I think when I get better at it, the headaches will lessen. It just hurts to Force direct that long. It's very tiring…"

"Force direct?"

"Yes... The Force must be channeled in order to heal."

"Qui-Gon told me the Force can not be coerced."

Remii came to his knees and looked steadily at Obi-Wan. "Master Qui-Gon is correct. Coerced the Force cannot be... but it can be guided," he said in an unconscious imitation of Obi-Wan's master. "I could not heal if I could not direct the Force to repair the damage."

Obi-Wan frowned as he tried to wrap his head around what Remii was telling him. He got up and paced the garden a moment before coming to sit opposite the other apprentice. "I think I understand." He frowned again. "Master Qui-Gon said we must strive to live in balance with the Force..."

"That's what healing is," Remii broke in, "balancing the Force! Surely you felt it?"

"I felt... many things. I felt the Force power you gathered. I felt you direct it through yourself to the woman. I could almost feel you moving it around the wound." Obi-Wan looked into Remii's serious brown eyes. "But I think what you did is dangerous. I felt darkness. I am unsure if it is an overtone of the danger we all feel on this planet, or if what you were doing attracted it to you."

Remii looked away, as if Obi-Wan's gaze hurt, took a breath and forced his eyes back up.

"I don't think the planet has anything to do with what you felt. You felt the darkness because of what I was doing. I brought it to me."

"That's dangerous, Remii! Very dangerous. If you know that what you do attracts the Dark Side, why do you do it? Surely there is another way?"

"I had to do it. I had no choice." Remii tugged on his braid a few times. "Healing does not attract the darkness... anymore than healing attracts the Light Side." He stared intently into Obi-Wan's eyes. "I brought the darkness to me," he repeated.

Obi-Wan fought the urge to jump up. "I...I don't think I know what you are saying..." He took a deep breath. Then another. “I don't understand what you are trying to tell me," he stated more firmly.

"Healing is not solely a function of the Light Side, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Just as life is not pure light or pure darkness. Surely you understand that." Remii leaned forward, intent. "Pieces of darkness can be woven into the healing process. Tiny, infinitesimal strands of Dark are needed to strengthen the Light, and speed healing. The opposition is what binds the wound together..."

"What you do is dangerous! I can't believe you." Obi-Wan did jump up this time. He glared down at the other padawan, hands on his hips.

Remii looked up at him, hurt in his eyes "What I do is necessary, Obi-Wan. Surely you can see that?"

"I do not see it at all." Obi-Wan turned his back and walked over to a small water fountain, reaching for the serenity of the Force that trickled over the rocks and pebbles. He bade the tranquility to wash through him, but it didn't come. He tried to pick out a water path and follow the flow over the rocks, but that didn't work either. Finally, he settled for just being in the moment, one with the water.

Into the silence floated the liquid notes of Remii's flutepipe. Obi-Wan closed his eyes as the notes soared and trembled, dissolving one into another until their colors painted the way to the Force. Calmed, he turned. Remii sat cross-legged in the grass, eyes closed. He played a few notes, slowly, stretching them, spacing them further and further apart, until the last one hung in the air, translucent. It shimmered and danced, then faded away, leaving profound silence in its wake. Remii's face had a faraway look on it.

"Did you see it, Obi-Wan? Did you feel it?" Remii asked softly.

Obi-Wan came and knelt in the grass beside the young apprentice. “I saw the notes. They floated in the Force. They made it beautiful."

"Did you not see the dark that floated with it?"

Confused, Obi-Wan sat back. "I saw only beauty," he repeated.

Remii gave a contemplative smile, lifted the flutepipe, and played one long, continuous note that started out amber, reflecting the Light. It turned to gold and yellow, then white, shining overly bright.

It went on and on, until Obi-Wan gave in to the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. "Enough!"

"Do you not see the difference?" Remii moved forward until his intense gaze was the only thing in Obi-Wan's vision. "The spaces in-between the notes are the dark... without the dark ... you cannot have music. You cannot have the light."

Obi-Wan fell back into the grass, mind whirling. What Remii said made sense. But surely to draw on the Dark Side, no matter how minutely, was dangerous? "Does Master Dushiko know you do this?"

Remii gave a short laugh. "No." He fell back in the grass beside Obi-Wan. "It would not be allowed. Master Dushiko says I must first achieve discipline. That using the Force in swordplay is the same as welding the Force in other ways. That if I strive for excellence in training, I will understand. I am not supposed to heal without his supervision… but it was an emergency. I had to help that woman. She needed me." Remii looked over at Obi-Wan. "Master Dushiko says that if I am not careful, I could take a life. I would never knowingly hurt someone, Obi-Wan." Remii held the flutepipe up towards the sky, and contemplated it. "I am not a warrior. I want to save lives, not take them. I will never be a Weapons Master like him. Why can he not see that?"

"Sometimes the path we take is not the path we want to be on," Obi-Wan said slowly, "But it gets us where we are going all the same. Many times Master Qui-Gon does things I do not understand. Sometimes Master Qui-Gon requires things of me that I don't want to do." He sat up and heaved a sigh. "I trust in Qui-Gon's judgment. So I do all he asks."

Remii sat up also. "At least your master asks..." He looked over at Obi-Wan. "I try to do what Master Dushiko requires, but nothing I do is good enough. I will never please him. I can never be what he wants me to be." Remii wrapped his arms around his knees, flutepipe still clutched in one hand. "He hates me."

"You're wrong, Remii," Obi-Wan stared at the other apprentice, aghast. "Dushiko is a Jedi Master. He does not hate."

Remii glanced up at Obi-Wan from under half-lowered eyelids.

"But he does not love me. I am an assignment, nothing more."

"I'm sorry you feel like that, Remii." Obi-Wan tore his hand through his hair, unsure of what else to say.

"He just cannot stand my incompetence in the defensive arts! I am not disciplined enough. He teaches me obedience. I have to be good, so he'll keep me." Remii leapt to his feet and went to the water fountain, dipped his hand in the water and splashed handfuls on his face. He turned around. "Someday, I will make him proud of me. When I am a Knight he will tell others I was his padawan."

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip. "Some cannot say things easily as others can. Maybe if you better your swordplay, he will start to listen to what you want. It is worth a try."

Remii nodded. "Anything is worth a try. Maybe then he'll want me." He put the flutepipe away and pulled on his boots, fastened his belt, and picked up the over tunic and brown cloak. "Would you like to try and teach me some of the Force Katas you do?"

"Sure," Obi-Wan said. He got up and started for the hedge opening, then turned. "You know, I didn't learn those Force Katas until a couple years ago. You're actually right on the level you should be."

"It's not good enough," Remii said simply. He walked out past Obi-Wan and headed for the practice garden they'd used the previous day.

Time passed quickly as Obi-Wan-Wan demonstrated movements to Remii. Strike, leap, turn, slash, turn, slide… they went over the rituals step by step and practiced until Remii showed some basic competence. The katas were enough above his level that Remii had to struggle to learn the complicated sequences. Obi-Wan worked patiently, turning the youth's wrist to demonstrate a cleaner technique, showing him how the move worked against an opponent. Remii was much more at ease then he had been around his master, drinking in Obi-Wan's explanations with an eagerness that bordered on awe. If it weren't so obvious that the youth hungered for attention, Obi-Wan would have been uncomfortable.

"Also, if you add a Force push against your opponent while you leap, it can give you an advantage..." Obi-Wan demonstrated. "Add it to the first kata I showed you… one, two, three… and jump!"

"That's a neat trick," Remii said. "Let's do a round, I want to try." He pulled the light saber off his belt and ignited it. Obi-Wan did the same and they faced off across the circle. Soon the two engaged in a controlled display of Force touched leaps and pushes. This turned to a series of slow slashes and parries as they grew tired. Remii tried one of the katas by himself, eyes closed as he strove to twist his body and weapon into the proper form.

"I think you have the idea. Now run through the whole thing, don't worry about mistakes. I'll do it alongside you. From the start position… Go!" Remii finished many minutes behind Obi-Wan, and stood panting in the middle of the garden.

"Not bad for a beginner," Obi-Wan commented. "Just practice, it will give you confidence."

Remii smiled at Obi-Wan, started to reply when suddenly a look of dread came over his face. He glanced to his left.

Obi-Wan did the same, and froze.

Leaning against the entry hedge, arms crossed over his chest, was Ak'ra Dushiko. 

--Continued in Chapter 6--