by Jude Watson
“I’ll take this one to Baftu,” Weutta said. “We’re on high security. He wants to see all the rebels.”
Weutta roughly pushed a weakened Obi-Wan down what felt like miles of hallway. At last they reached a heavily carved, massive door. A guard nodded them through. They were in a large, completely empty room with heavy tapestries hung over the windows. Another pair of massive double doors were at the opposite end.
Weutta walked toward them and stopped. He pushed Obi-Wan down on his knees, then pressed his face down. “Wait here, slug,” he growled. “And don’t look up.”
Keeping his face down, Obi-wan moved only his eyes to watch Weutta as the pudgy Phindian straightened his visor and smoothed his armor coat. He cleared his throat. Obviously, even the head of security was nervous about seeing Baftu. Then he pressed a button on the side of the door.
A second later, the door swung open. An annoyed Baftu stood in the doorway of his office.
“Why have you disturbed me?” he barked, scowling.
“I have brought you a rebel –“ Weutta babbled quickly.
“Why do you pester me with such things?” Baftu roared.
“B-because you ordered me to,” Weutta answered, his voice almost a whine.
“You disgust me. Leave the rebel and get out.”
“But –“
“Excuse me, Head Slug,” Baftu said in a purring, murderous tone. “Are you still here in my line of sight? Or do I need to impale you on an electro-jabber until you shake yourself to death?”
“No,” Weutta whispered, and ran past a kneeling Obi-Wan to the far doors. He slipped through them and disappeared.
“Baftu!” It was Terra. Obi-wan couldn’t see her. “I’m not finished!”
Baftu turned away, not even glancing in Obi-Wan direction. He left the door partially ajar. Slowly, Obi-Wan crept forward, his ears straining. He called upon the Force to sharpen his senses so he could hear the two. They spoke in furious murmurs.
“I was against the alliance with Prince Beju from the beginning,” Terra said. “What do we know of him? We have yet to meet him or see him. Everything is done through his intermediaries. I do not trust someone I cannot see.”
“He is coming tomorrow,” Baftu said. “You will be able to look at him. Enough of this.”
“And why are you thinking of expansion now?” Terra went on, ignoring him. “We should consolidate our power here on Phindar. Rebel action is growing. The people are starving. Med centers are crying out for supplies. You have created too many shortages, Baftu! The people are bound to revolt.”
Baftu laughed “And what if they do? They are sick and hungry. If they can find any weapons, they are too weak to hold them for long.”
“This is not a joke, Baftu! Terra cried furiously, her voice rising.
“Ah, you’re getting soft, pretty Terra,” Baftu said. “But if the state of things on Phindar worries you, then why don’t you handle it? You can appease the people with some extra food this week. Not a bad idea since Beju is coming. It will distract them. Just don’t give them any bacta – I’ve promised most of it to Beju.”
“I do not trust that Prince –“
“As you have said,” Baftu interrupted, “over and over again. I will handle the meeting. You handle Phindar. Now I have work to do.”
“What about the rebel?” Terra asked.
“You handle it. Phindar is your responsibility, remember?”
Obi-Wan heard clicking footsteps, then the opening and shutting of a door in the other room. Quickly, he scuttled backward on his hands and knees, then pressed his face down into his hands.
A moment later, a boot nudged his shoulder. He had not even heard Terra approach on the soft carpet.
“Head up, rebel.”
He raised his head. How strange to see the friendly eyes of Guerra and Paxxi in such a cruel face.
“So, you are not a Phindian. Who are you?” Terra asked impatiently.
“A friend,” Obi-Wan answered.
Terra snorted. “Not to me. You impersonated a guard. You know the penalty. Well, perhaps you do not. Perhaps your Phindian friends did not tell you. You will be renewed and transported off-planet.”
Obi-Wan did not move a muscle, but inside he cried out. Renewed! He did not imagine this. He was prepared to withstand torture. But to have his memory gone! That was too painful to imagine.
Terra sighed. She looked weary, and Obi-Wan suddenly saw a glimpse of the girl she had been. She looked away into the distance. “Don’t worry, rebel. It’s not as bad as people say.”
Perhaps seeing traces of Guerra and Paxxi in her features made Obi-Wan feel he could risk a question. “Do you miss your family?”
She stiffened for a moment. He expected a blow, waited for it. But instead, Terra turned to him. Her bleak gaze held a sadness that was full of empty spaces.
“How can you miss what you do not remember?” she asked.
Chapter 13
Qui-Gon’s voice was a sharp as the edge of a vibro-shiv. “You abandoned him!”
“Not so, Jedi-Gon! He insisted!” Guerra cried. “And it happened so fast. I did not know what to do!”
“You could have stayed with him!” Qui-Gon snapped.
“But Obawan told me to take the anti-register. It was most important, he said,” Guerra cried desperately.
Qui-Gon let out an exasperated sigh, Obi-Wan was right. They had set out to find the device. That had to be all important.
He turned back to Guerra and tried to compose himself. They stood hidden in the shadows outside the huge warehouse. He wanted to rush at Guerra, rush at the first Syndicat guard he saw, rush into the headquarters. His anger filled him, raw and pulsing, irrational. He was surprised at the power of it. Guerra had betrayed Obi-Wan on the mining platform. Had he done it again.
“I did not know what to do, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra said helplessly behind him. “Obawan insisted it so. He said, give me your coat. He said the Force would help him Now I see he only wanted me to obey. If I knew he would be taken away, I would have so very gladly gone in his place.”
Qui-Gon turned and looked into Guerra’s sorrowful eyes. His instinct told him to trust the Phindian. And everything he said about Obi-Wan rang true. His Padawan had sacrificed himself in order to get the anti-register device out of the building. Qui-Gon would have done the same.
Paxxi spoke up softly. “We have a signal for Duenna in case of emergency. We could activate it. She will meet us tomorrow morning in the marketplace and tell us how Obawan is and what plans there are for him. We can arrange rescue then.”
“Tomorrow id too late,” Qui-Gon said. “It has to be tonight. Now. I won’t leave Obi-Wan there for so long.”
Paxxi and Guerra exchanged glances. “So sorry to say not so, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra said. “But headquarters locks down for the night. No one can get in or out. Not even Terra and Baftu.”
“What about the anti-register device?” Qui-Gon asked. “You said it could get you in anywhere.”
“Yes, so,” Guerra said. “Anywhere. Except headquarters after lockdown.”
“Duenna will watch out for Obawan,” Guerra said softly. “She will protect him as best she can.”
Qui-Gon turned away again. Helpless rage filled him again. But this time it was not directed at Guerra. It was directed at himself. He should have gone with Obi-Wan and let the Derida brothers fend for themselves. But he was afraid they would not be able to get the anti-register device out of the building.
“Make the decision, make another,” Yoda always said. “Remake one past, you cannot.”
Yes, he could only go forward. And Qui-Gon knew with a heavy heart that he could not rescue Obi-Wan tonight. He could not compromise the success of his mission by attempting a rescue that was doomed to fail.
* * *
Obi-Wan sat in a cell barely large enough to contain him. His knees were tucked under his chin. It was cold. The chill air against his skin was like the icy fear that gripped his heart.
He would lose all his Jedi training, all his knowledge. Any wisdom he had struggled so hard to gain. Would he lose the Force as well? He would lose the memory of how to harness it.
And what else would he lose? Friendship. All the friends he’d made at the Temple. Gentle Bant, with her sliver eyes. Garen, who he’d fought with and laughed with and who was almost as good as he was in lightsaber training. Reeft, who could never get enough to eat, and who would stare mournfully at his empty plate until Obi-Wan passed over some of his food. They had forged strong bonds, and he missed them. If he lost his memories of them, they would be dead to him.
Obi-Wan thought of his thirteenth birthday. It seemed so long ago now. He had never done his recollection exercise. Now he remembered how Qui-Gon had admonished him. Yes, time is elusive. But it is best to track it down.
Obi-Wan had not tracked it down. He had not made the time. Now he would have all the time in the world and nothing to remember.
He pressed his forehead against his knees, feeling the fear overwhelm him. It filled his mind with darkness. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was to lose all hope.
Then, in the midst of cold and fear, he felt a warmth inside his tunic. He reached inside to the hidden pocket against his chest. His fingers closed around the river rock Qui-Gon had given him. It was warm!
He pulled it out. The ebony stone glowed in the darkness, giving off a crystal-like gleam. He closed his fingers around it again and felt a hum against his fingertips. The stone must be Force-sensitive, he realized.
That knowledge sent beam of pure light into the darkness of his mind. Nothing is lost where the Force dwells, he remembered from the Temple. And the Force is everywhere.
Obi-Wan turned his mind to remembering what Guerra had told him about the memory wipe. Some very strong-minded beings are able to withstand some of the effects of the wipe. Perhaps that meant the Force could help him. For what else was the Force, but strength and light?
Obi-Wan held the stone tightly. He gathered to Force around him like a shield. He imagined it coiling around every cell in his brain like a fortress. It would hold out against the darkness, and he would hold on to his memories.
When the door to his cell opened and the guard entered, he did not even look up.
Chapter 14
The marketplace was crowded the next morning, even though there was even less for sale. The desperation on the faces of the Phindians mirrored Qui-Gon’s. He paced impatiently, waiting for Duenna to appear.
Finally, he could wait no longer. “I’m going to headquarters myself,” he told Guerra and Paxxi grimly. “I’ll find a way.”
“Wait, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra pleaded. “It is hard for Duenna to slip away, but she always manages it.”
“And so there she is!” Paxxi cried.
Duenna threaded through the crowd toward them. She was not wearing her coat, but a cloak and hood. She carried a large satchel.
“Any news of Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked as soon as she came up to them.
She put a hand on her heart to catch her breath. “Headquarters in on high alert. Prince Beju arrives tomorrow –“
“What about Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon barked impatiently.
“I am trying to tell you,” Duenna said. “I have never seen them act so fast. He – he was taken to a cell.”
“Where?” Qui-Gon asked urgently.
“He is there no longer,” Duenna said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. Suddenly, Qui-Gon noticed that here eyes were full of pity for him. His heart fell.
“What happened?” he asked hoarsely.
“He was renewed,” she said, her voice breaking. “Last night. And transported off-planet at dawn this morning.”
Paxxi and Guerra peered around the corner into the room where Qui-Gon sat, eyes front, cross-legged, not moving. Duenna had to return to headquarters, so they had gone straight to Kaadi’s house. Being on the streets was dangerous during the day.
As soon as they entered the house, Qui-Gon had gone to the spare room where they slept. He sat down in the middle of the floor, not speaking. He had remained there for an hour. The brothers had left him alone for a time, but he could feel their anxious eyes on him.
Without opening his eyes, he said, “I’m not giving up. I’m forming a plan.”
“Of course, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra said, relief coursing through his voice. “We knew this.”
“Yes so,” Paxxi agreed. “We know Jedi do not give up. Although, we must admit we worried a tiny bit. It is such bad news about our friend Obawan.”
Qui-Gon opened his eyes. He saw the same haunted desperation in the eyes of the Derida brothers that he felt in his heart. He had had to struggle to overcome his anger at himself. It had taken time to calm his mind. Time and again he had tried to formulate a plan, only to be filled with anguish at the thought of Obi-Wan’s plight. He was rocked to the core. The thought of Obi-wan without his memory, without his training, was unbearable.
He had failed his Padawan. He should have known the Syndicat would move fast. He should have tried to rescue him last night. Now Obi-Wan was doomed to a life so empty it made Qui-Gon shudder every time he tried to conceive of it.
What of Obi-Wan’s Jedi training? All of that, lost. What would the boy become? He would still be Force-sensitive, for the Force was not dependent on memory. But how could Obi-Wan use it without the lessons of the Temple to guide him? If he discovered its power, he would have it without allegiance. Would he become a lost, neutral warrior for hire? Would he use the Force for darkness, like Qui-Gon’s old apprentice, Xanatos?
He did not believe that could happen. He would not believe it. If Obi-Wan had lost his memory, surely he would still retain his goodness.
Yes, Qui-Gon was full of worry. But he was also heartbroken. The boy he knew was gone. The diligent boy, so curious and intent on knowledge. The quick study. The boy who wanted to learn.
Qui-Gon refused to believe that all that was gone. He had to hope still that somehow the memory wipe would be reversible, if he could find Obi-Wan.
“And so what are you thinking, Jedi-Gon?” Guerra asked tentatively.
“We must act tomorrow,” Qui-Gon said. “We must break them wide open. What better time to act then when they are trying to impress Prince Beju? First of all, they will be distracted. And second, we can destroy their alliance with the Prince before it even begins.”
“It is true so,” Paxxi breathed.
“We must open the warehouses when the Prince arrives,” Qui-Gon said quietly. He had formed the plan in his mind, and he believed it could be done. “Can Kaddi rally the people?”
“Yes so,” Guerra said, nodding.
“That will be our diversion,” Qui-Gon said. “The people will rush into the warehouses. The Syndicat will panic. There will be chaos in the streets. We will go straight to headquarters with the anti-register device. That’s when we’ll steal the treasury.”
“In the daytime?” Paxxi asked. “But it will be dangerous. And Duenna cannot help us then.”
Qui-Gon turned to look at them. His blue eyes burned across the room. “Are you with me?” he asked.
The two brothers looked at each other. “Yes, so,” they said together.
Chapter 15
The hum from the engines underneath Obi-Wan throbbed against his skull. He had been thrown on the floor of the transport, locked into cargo hold. He kept his eyes closed. He had to keep his concentration strong. He felt completely drained. Exhausted. Sick.
But he remembered.
They had not broken him. They had not won.
They had entered, and he hadn’t even looked up, not even when they laughed at him. He slipped the river stone into the pocket of his tunic quickly, so they would not see it and take it away. The stone kept a steady glow of heat against his heart. He had drawn strength from it. It was tangible proof that the Force was with him.
Wh
ile they set up the memory-wipe droid, he had built Force walls inside himself. He had enshrined every memory, even the haziest one. He had embraced the painful with the good.
His first day at the Temple. He had been so young, so frightened. His first glimpse of Yoda, coming forward to greet him, his heavy-lidded eyes looking sleepy. “Far to come, far to go it is,” he had said. “Cold and warm, it is. Seek what you are looking for, you will. Find it here, you shall. Listen.”