Legacy III

Chapter 23

Origination 56'98'140 Baroonda Minor substation

Encrypted shortburst protocol B

-begin transmission transcript—

For the love of…. Fine. I begin to suspect that this is a game, one of those farcical training exercises you inflicted upon me when I was a youngling, as a test of patience.

Even so, I am still sorry to have missed you… it's well within the allotted time. I can only conclude that you and Master Pertha have been dispatched on another urgent assignment… possibly to save some rare species of fungus from utter extinction? Wield your 'saber with care, Master – aggressive negotiations might lead to scandalous collateral damage in such a delicate situation.

Comm when you are able; I may not be here much longer. Ah. In fact, there is Master Yoda now – on priority alpha channel. I must go.

May the Force be with you.

-end transmission-

"To liberate slaves, your mandate was not."

"I am aware of that, Master." Obi-Wan faced down Yoda's holographic displeasure with studied Jedi composure. After all, he'd watched Qui-Gon Jinn commit the same unspeakable impudence countless times. He ought to be an expert – and yet, even at the convenient distance of so many thousand parsecs, the act of brushing off the Grand Master's admonition took a herculean effort of courage.

One did not simply tell Yoda to go stick it in his ear.

The shimmering blue figure snorted and smacked its transparent cane against some hard object. "Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you."

The young Knight bowed, respectfully, acknowledging the compliment.

"Very impressed with your actions, was Senator Palpatine of Naboo," the diminutive Jedi chuffed. "Currying favor in high circles, are you, Obi-Wan."

"I place no value on Senator Palpatine's opinion," he replied levelly. Whoever in the blazes this Palpatine was, he was a politician, and his esteem therefore of no account.

The tiny master all but growled. "Discussed at length this matter, the Council has. Recalled to Coruscant you are."

This was not so easy to countenance. Obi-Wan shifted uneasily, caught between the rock of obedience and the hard place presented by his own deep-rooted intuition: there was more to be done, a task yet unaccomplished. "Yes, Master, but…"

"But?"

The old one's mien was terrible to behold, white and straggling hair wisping about his reticulated skull, trollish ears waggling, luminous eyes narrowed into fierce crescents, snub nose wrinkled in annoyance.

A fluid shift of tactics. "But I am loathe to leave Master Tinn short-handed."

The ancient Jedi was not fooled. His gimer stick came up, wavering vexedly at the holo-cam. "Do as you are told, you will," he snorted. "Return to Temple, you will, and present yourself before Council. Many questions have we to ask. Much to discuss. Of more importance than Rim Patrol."

Obi-Wan was experienced to know when he was defeated. He bowed. "Yes, Master. I will arrange a transport with due haste."

Yoda harrumphed triumphantly. "Sent an escort to fetch you, I have."

Oh. Blast it. "Yes, Master."

The Grand master snorted again, folding his clawed digits upon the gnarled stick. His ears twitched once more, before his mesmerizing image snapped into nothingness.

Obi-Wan released a pent breath. That had gone… well. Or not, depending on your point of view.

It took him precisely four minutes to pack his belongings into one simple travel case. He was minus one cloak and a set of tunics and tabards, and carried most his scant possessions on his person. A few spare garments, a grooming kit, and a datapad tossed atop the small pile completed the needful preparations. He stripped the single thermal blanket and mattress cover off his bunk and stuffed them in the laundry chute. Frowning, he smoothed the blanket on Torbb's cot with a sweep of the Force, and whisked a stray tumble of dust and long black hair into the 'cycler chute. The room, he decided, was now acceptable. He was done.

Knowing well that Yoda would have timed his message to anticipate the promised 'escort' by no more than a half- hour standard – so as to allow no time in which to formulate an escape strategy – he sat upon the cot's edge and rolled his river stone between thumb and forefinger. The polished mineral pulsed warm beneath his touch, a familiar meditative anchor after all these years.

His dreams were still disturbed, his daily communion with the Force unsettling. He had left something behind, unaccomplished. Missed a beat, overlooked a clue.

But what?

The absurd engineering installation undertaken by Raith Seinar? The origins of the gambling resort fraud they had discovered early in their tenure here? Something about the Federation blockade? The Paxellians? Zhoa's lizard? …The Sith? Surely he hadn't been inattentive in that regard.

No answer rang out sonorous and clear. His stone remained warm, but exhibited no miraculous oracular powers. Patience was, of course, the key – but he was precious short on time.

"Kenobi." Torbb Bakk'ile's resonant voice filled the small cabin to overflowing. Her boldy cut features froze into stern disapproval as her gaze encompassed his packed case, the tidy state of the room. "You're leaving," she frowned.

"Yes. I've been recalled to Coruscant."

One of the redoubtable Knight's broad hands rested upon her 'saber hilt. "Mirrsshka," she grumbled, pacing disconsolately across the tiny space and then back to the door.

Obi-Wan raised his brows. Torbb and he shared a certain comradely friendship, or understanding, but he had not expected his departure to inspire such a reaction.

"Just when I need you," the tall woman said. She folded her arms across a wide chest.

Curious, he gestured with one hand. "Your squadron – "

"This is different. "Her intense gaze came to rest upon him. "It's … complicated."

AH. He stood, intuition supplying the missing terms of this exchange. "You've located Uticus."

Torbb's eyes flashed with a fire that warned against further trespass. Then she dipped her head in a brief affirmative. "Yes. We've finally got a read on that tracker your Nautolan padawan placed on those shipping crates. And a routing sequence for the transaction with Republic trace credits."

Better and better. Excitement stirring beneath his ribs, he urged her on. "Yes?"

"Those funds were deposited into an anonymous Banking Guild account held under the name New Dawn. Mean anything to you?"

His grin was fierce. "Yes, it does. I should have known. And Uticus is smuggling for them, then?"

"It would appear so. He's on the move right now – traipsing through the Arkanis sector, probably heading for a non-Republic jurisdiction system for a black market auction. We can catch him there."

And seize his ship, his navigation records, his communications database – all vital leads to the nefarious and elusive seditionist organization styling itself New Dawn. At last.

"I won't take my squadron to do this," Torbb stated, flatly. "Uticus – I need to do this in person. It needs to be me."

He burned to ask, but their alliance was founded upon her implicit trust in his discretion, his honor. He would respect her privacy.

"I'll come with you."

She smiled then, an alarming flash of white lighting up her stern visage. "I thought you were headed back to Temple?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, pulse quickening. It was outright disobedience, but his heart told him he was aimimg true. The Force chimed in accord. Go, go, go… retrace your steps, turn back and look again…

Abruptly, he knew where they were headed. "He's going to Tatooine," he blurted, certain as any doomsday prophet, boundlessly confident.

Torbb slapped him on the shoulder, hard enough to overbalance him had he not braced for it. "I am in your debt, brother." And then she was sweeping out, to make ready.

Obi-Wan drew a hand over his face. Yoda was going to flay him for this.

But he would do what he must.

Saesee Tinn's squadron was presently out on patrol; Torbb was therefore, technically, senior ranking officer and temporarily in charge. The deck crew prepared a shuttle for her personal use without any question or need to seek further clearance.

Obi-Wan tossed his bag into the aft hold – a cramped cabin behind the cockpit, large enough to accommodate one inset bunk and an emergency med kit – and made a small private pilgrimage of his own while the mech droids fueled up their shuttle.

It would be uncivilized to leave without so much as a goodbye.

RG53 was snug in his own recharge unit against the far wall, engrossed in what appeared to be the cybernetic counterpart of a meditative trance. The young Jedi hesitated fractionally, ingrained training forbidding him to disturb a fellow deep in contemplation – and then he reminded himself that the astromech was, when all was said and done – just a droid.

"Hello there," he addressed the comatose mech-bot.

It stirred back to wakefulness with many a curt blip and curious tweedle, domed head spinning in place.

"It has been … a memorable experience to fly with you," he said, diplomatically. "I'm off now."

If the ensuing string of whistles and bleeps bore a distinctly relieved cadence, he chose to ignore this.

"May the Force be with you." Technically, the Force could not be with a chunk of circuitry, but a copilot, however humble, deserved the courtesy of a proper farewell.

The astromech sent him on his way with a low, undulating whistle and promptly went back to sleep.

"Hm." He was upon the point of coming Torbb – who had disappeared into the storage bay on some inscrutable errand of her own – when the warning klaxons heralded the arrival of a new ship. The newcomer was another beast of burden diplomatic shuttle, bearing the Order's insignia upon its hull. It skimmed through the magcon barrier at a conservative speed, turned carefully upon its axis, and engaged repulsors, lowering to the decks with a placid and unhurried grace.

The escort. Obi-Wan quashed an irrational urge to disappear like a truant youngling. He would simply tell whomever Yoda had sent that his services would not be required, thank you.

Shoving hands into opposite sleeves and rocking back on his heels, he watched the ramp hiss open and the pressure valves release copious jets of steam. The interior was dimly lit; a robed figure briefly appeared in silhouette and then creaked his way down the incline, Force-levitating a double reinforced bio-crate before him.

Obi-Wan broke into an amused smile. "Master Pertha!" He hurried forward to render assistance as the ungainly box wobbled in mid-air.

"Kenobi!" the doddering Togruta master beamed. "Excellent, don't jostle these beauties, now – you'll never guess what we've found."

"Not micohastae veniferosi?" the young Knight inquired, trepidation ghosting over his features.

"No, no, much better than that – but no, I shan't tell! It will be a wonderful surprise for the whole Temple – just be a good lad, set this over there, good… I'll nip back in and fetch the other specimens…"

A rich chuckle sounded behind him as he painstakingly relocated the crate to its new home. Releasing his invisible grasp on the heavy object, Obi-Wan turned in surprise and ill-concealed delight.

"Master!"

Qui-Gon Jinn strode down the shuttle's ramp in three fluid paces, long cloak billowing at his heels. "I told you we had but one last detour to make. Master Yoda was most insistent."

They stood an arm's width apart, searching one another's faces as though to read the past months written thereupon. "He can be very insistent, when the mood strikes him."

The tall man glanced sideways to their elderly Togruta colleague. "And Master Pertha wishes to use the lab equipment here to conduct a bit of research before he returns to Coruscant, so…"

"You're free to enforce the Council's wishes."

The older man's eyes crinkled at the corners. "It is a peculiar role for me to play," he admitted.

"You'll be happy to know, then, that you shan't have to."

They walked side by side, toward the interior entrance and the storage bays. The Jedi master's hand rose, of its own accord, and settled momentarily upon his companion's shoulder. "I told him you would require no such external persuasion –"

"That's not what I mean, Master. I'm not going back to Coruscant. Not yet."

A full halt. Alarm, or perhaps wild hope, kindled behind Qui-Gon's grey eyes as he searched his former student's face. "What?"

Obi-Wan held his gaze steadily. "I, too , must make one small detour. I've agreed to help Torbb Bakk'ile settle a .. personal matter. And… I think I need to go back. To Tatooine."

The maverick Jedi held him firmly by either shoulder, initial unease blossoming into a kind of melting pride. "You're defying the Council, in favor of instinct and the Force's guidance."

Obi-Wan flinched. "I wish you wouldn't put it quite that way."

The tall man's mouth quirked at the corners. "I told you this patrol mission would be good for you."

An exasperated sigh. "Qui-Gon."

The elder of the pair turned him round and set them on their way again. "I will accompany you, of course."

"I would not ask you to share in my-"

"I am not waiting for your invitation."

"Master." They stopped again, upon the threshold of the storage bay. Obi-Wan looked up at his former mentor, words of reprimand or objection dying upon his lips. There was no point in arguing with the infamous rogue, anyway, as he should know- better than any person alive. He released a long breath and smiled, letting his own pleasure at the offer spill over attenuated shields. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. And… Knight Bakk'ile, I believe?"

Torbb, accosted unexpectedly by the legendary Master Jinn, proved herself made of stern stuff. She stood eye to eye with the Order's most controversial figure and merely dipped her head in a graceful display of respect. "I am honored."

"We've added another mission partner," Obi-Wan informed her, bluntly.

The towering woman sized Qui-Gon up in one swiftly assessing glance and bowed low. "My thanks." And then strode onward, long stride eating up the deck. "I'll prime the thrusters and the navcomp." She disappeared into the waiting shuttle's hull.

Mech droids retreated to the corners of the hangar; ready lights blinked along the docking guides.

Qui-Gon held out a hand. "Shall we? Knight Bakk'ile is a competent pilot, I feel sure. And you and I have a great deal of catching up to do."

The hatchway gaped alluringly open; already the shuttle's preliminary drives were thrumming with the promise of a fateful journey. "Speak for yourself, Master – we don't all have trouble keeping up with the younger generation."

Fleet as lightning, the Jedi master seized his friend's luxurious nerf-tail – in lieu of a padawan's braid - and bestowed upon it a punishing yank. "Brat," he chuckled, jogging up the ramp and into the cool interior. "…Coming? I thought you were able to keep up with me these days."

"I've got your back," the young Knight grumbled, following a scant pace behind.

The ramp sealed with a hiss of pistons; the shuttle executed a graceful pirouette; they blasted through the magcon barrier into the star-fretted beyond, over the future's swift-turning horizon, toward the precarious and subtle tipping-point of destiny.

End Book III.

Story to be continued in this book's immediate sequel, Legacy IV.