Disclaimer: I wish I could take credit for creating Star Wars, but alas, I am not George Lucas, and I have no intention of getting sued. Nor do I own text from Jude Watson's Jedi Apprentice #1: The Rising Force. It has only been added to the story to further the plot.
Summary: As Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Bant protect the Republic from Darth Sidious, another Sith Lord emerges – Qui-Gon's presumably dead, former apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi. Can the Jedi save the Republic, or is it already too late? The third story in the Jedi Trials series.
Author's Notes: All right, I start off this chapter by saying that, yes, this is, indeed, the last chapter of JT III, and that I have included a preview of JT IV at the end (insert cheers here). Also, I have included a brief portion from Jude Watson's Jedi Apprentice #1: The Rising Force. As stated in the disclaimer, it's not mine. I'm not a genius like her. And finally, a happy belated birthday to The Maker, our beloved George Lucas, who turned 63 years young on Monday, May 14th.
Enjoy the climatic end…of this installment.
Revenge and Regret
By Kekelina
-----
Chapter Twenty-One: Hate
-----
The two Jedi, on opposite sides of the Temple, fell almost in unison.
Bant was the first to drop, as their bond had been the more raw and weaker of the two. The young Calamarian succumbed to a seizure, her body's only defense against the near-liquefying of her brain. Had Garen Muln not quickly stepped forward to defend the incapacitated Jedi, she would've met her apprentice in the netherworld of the Force far sooner than expected.
Unlike Bant, Qui-Gon's mind and boy did not allow him the pleasure of sinking into blissful, ignorant unconsciousness when the bond was finally and agonizingly pried from the anchor in his mind, every single tendril and thread of Anakin's presence screaming against the dull vibroax that hacked away at their connection, slowly torturing every nerve receptor in his brain. No, Qui-Gon's mind did not give him the choice to "opt out." He endured every searing millisecond of unbearable agony, curled on the floor like a suffering youngling, tears streaming down his cheeks as if their release would ease some of his pain.
Qui-Gon had lost his son.
-----
As the brightest star in the universe died, Yoda slowly sank to the floor, clutching the vacuum wound in his chest.
Gone, the Jedi's greatest hope for survival was.
-----
"Hello, Master."
Qui-Gon did not need to lift his eyes to instantly recognize the frigid, cruel, clipped Coruscanti accent of the man he had loved like a son.
Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Qui-Gon could not bring himself to look up at those putrid yellow eyes, smug with the murder of Anakin, the rancid blood of a thousand deaths dripping into the manic irises.
This wasn't the man he had trained.
It couldn't be.
His Obi-Wan had been kind and quiet, always so appalled by injustice, willing to give up his life as a Jedi to help those with a greater cause. His Obi-Wan had found humor in the worst of situations and had fought with all his strength even during the most desperate times. His Obi-Wan had hated the Dark Side.
"Qui-Gon Jinn, I will be thirteen in four weeks. You are my last chance to be a Jedi Knight."
Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. "It is better not to train a boy to become a Knight if he has so much anger. There is a risk he will turn to the Dark Side."
With that, the huge Jedi wheeled and strode for the door, his cape streaming.
Obi-Wan sprang to his feet. "I won't turn."
Where had he gone wrong?
The monster before him sneered. "Not happy to see me, Master?" The taunt continued, the word dripping from his parted lips with rotting malice, drenching the world around them in crushing hatred.
"Why?" A mere whisper.
The sneer melted from the Sith Lord's face as anger grew in his fetid eyes, surrounded by decaying flesh that seemed to light up as Qui-Gon shrank from the insanity that tinged his apprentice's once-calm blue-grey orbs. Obi-Wan bent low to the ground, stooping down to Qui-Gon's level and bringing his face mere centimeters from the Jedi's.
"Do you fear me, Qui-Gon Jinn?"
He shivered involuntarily. Obi-Wan breath stank of rotten corpses, of deceased carrion unworthy of being buried to decompose in the silence and solitude of eternity. The Dark Side had touched Obi-Wan far greater than Qui-Gon had ever imagined. The very sight of his lost Padawan stabbed him in the heart like a lightsaber, wrenching his heart in pain, yet he found himself transfixed by this demented man, and no matter how much he strove to look away, he simply…couldn't.
"Well, O Mighty Jedi Master? Do I frighten you?"
Even if he had deemed to respond to the Sith's taunt, his mouth wouldn't let him. His mouth felt like it was filled with the coarse material of a Jedi's outer tunic, and a large lump had successfully lodged itself deep in Qui-Gon's throat, strangling his voice cords.
Yes, my Padawan…you frighten me.
However, becoming quickly annoyed, Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's silence as defiance and roared angrily at him. "Speak, for stars' sake!" The Dark Side swirled viciously around them, soaring up to the catwalks that held the lighting system for the giant gardens that were the Room of a Thousand Fountains and crashing down with the mighty, roaring waterfalls. But as swiftly as the attack had come, it was gone, leaving only the knowing smirk on the dark face of the young Sith Lord and a dying chuckle on his thin lips.
"Typical Qui-Gon," he spat. "I should've known better. You never spoke if you could avoid it…unless I had done something to displease you. No 'Well done, Padawan' or 'I'm proud of you, Obi-Wan.' Nothing. Nothing except 'Release your emotions,' 'Your greatest enemy is your anger,' and 'Calm yourself, Padawan.'" He paused and tilted his head. "I was never good enough for you, was I, Qui-Gon?"
More clearly than ever before, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's heartbreak behind his anger. It stabbed at his body like a thousand burning shafts of light, twisting and digging through his flesh in vengeful release. Suddenly, Qui-Gon understood. This was his fault. Obi-Wan had turned to the Dark Side because of him.
The guilt consumed him as he struggled to his feet. He had to make Obi-Wan understand. He had to fix this. "That's not true…"
"Of course not," the Dark Sider amended dryly.
"Obi-Wan, I – "
"SHUT UP!" he suddenly screamed, his feral voice echoing throughout the giant room, his anger rustling the plants and causing Qui-Gon's heart to race. "The truth is," he continued quickly. "You never wanted me as a Padawan, and once you had me, you couldn't wait to be rid of me."
Qui-Gon shook his head in denial. He loved Obi-Wan as a son… He had never wanted to be rid of him. Never.
"You were always comparing me to someone else. I acted too much like Xanatos; I wasn't as powerful as Anakin. I wasn't as important as Tahl. No matter how much I tried to please you, you found some reason to keep me at arm's length. I always had one flaw too many.
"I looked to you for a family, but all I received was a detached expression and Jedi platitudes."
Qui-Gon stared in disbelief. Was that what he thought? That he hadn't cared for him, hadn't taken joy in every minute they'd spent together, hadn't been so proud to watch him grow as a Jedi and a young man? To see the boy he loved turn into a respected Jedi Knight?
He reached out for his son. "No, Obi-Wan, listen to me – "
"I listened to you for twelve years of my life and got thrown down the garbage chute for my trouble!"
For a moment, neither spoke. The only sounds around them were the distant shouts from the waning battle and the rise and fall of Obi-Wan's angry breaths. Qui-Gon knew not how to reply. The Sith's claims were ridiculous at best, but no matter how much he tried to explain the truth to Obi-Wan, he refused to listen. His mind, however irrational, was set.
Despite Qui-Gon's deepest and undying hopes, Obi-Wan Kenobi was truly gone.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan." I'm sorry for whatever you think I've done to you and for what I must now do.
He sneered, an expression Qui-Gon would've never seen on the Jedi apprentice's young face. "Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead."
His crimson lightsaber snapped to life, entrancing Qui-Gon and filling him with everlasting sorrow. "I know."
Without warning, Obi-Wan slashed. Qui-Gon's lightsaber was activated and ready by the time the two blades met, emerald and ruby spitting sparks and hissing in conflict. There was only one way the duel could now end:
Death.
Qui-Gon quickly retracted his blade and spun to the left, feinting a high cut to swipe his blade at the Sith Lord's ankles.
But he was fighting with Obi-Wan, perhaps the one person in the universe who knew Qui-Gon's sparring style better than Qui-Gon himself. For twelve years they had trained together, helping each other grow while learning to predict each other's next moves. Every thrust was countered by a parry; every jab forced back by an elegant sweep. Qui-Gon was kept on his toes.
That being said, the Jedi Master couldn't help but notice that Obi-Wan's own style had changed drastically. During his Padawan years, he had been a practitioner of Ataru, as Qui-Gon was. But the Sith's current combat style was far more aggressive, akin to the powerful, deadly form of Vaapad.
He wielded his lightsaber like a madman, wild, fatal swings destroying everything in their paths. He seemed to waste no energy on defense, instead keeping Qui-Gon sprinting left and right for cover to dodge manic strokes. Many shrubs, rocks, and trees, which unwittingly served as Qui-Gon's shields, met their untimely ends at the point of Obi-Wan's lightsaber.
Air could not enter Qui-Gon's lungs quick enough; sweat dripped from his brow. Struggling to overcome exhaustion, the maverick Jedi called on the Force to give him strength, both physically and mentally.
It would be so much easier if Obi-Wan were to kill me, a part of his brain rationalized. The battle would be over. He wouldn't be forced to either allow Obi-Wan to end his life…or to end Obi-Wan's.
Locked in a heated conflict he had tried so hard to avoid, he didn't know if he had the strength to impale his former apprentice with a lightsaber.
Obi-Wan is dead, he forced himself to remember as he blocked a blow. Only this monster remains.
No…this monster is my son.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, the man standing before him, as evil as he was, would always be the boy he had trained from the time he was thirteen years old.
This was why the Jedi frowned on attachments.
The battle led them to a bridge of stepping stones that spanned the width of one of the more shallow pools. Slippery from the water and layers of moss and lichens, the stones did not provide good fighting ground for their doomed duel. Both slipped as they fought, losing focus on the battle at hand to regain his footing before the other took advantage of his precarious posture. Qui-Gon quickly found that his soft-soled Temple boots provided less friction against the stones than Obi-Wan's hard-soled combat boots.
Thankfully, the pool of water was short in length, and they were once again fighting each other on blessed land. Obi-Wan ruthlessly charged, his lightsaber whipping continuously at the Jedi Master. Qui-Gon blocked to the best of his ability, cursing the strain in his arms and legs as he held the dangerous shaft of energy at bay for those few critical seconds as their blades met.
Giving into the stress of the moment, Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you."
"Are you looking for forgiveness," he replied with a dry cackle, as cold and unfeeling as his feverish eyes.
"If I could change this," he answered hopelessly, forcing the contents of his stomach to stay where they belonged under the Sith's nauseous glare, "I would."
I would go to the ends of the universe to save you.
Obi-Wan's face contorted in rage. "Liar!" His lightsaber drove down, singeing some of Qui-Gon's hair. The Jedi jumped back in shock over the sudden ferociousness of the attack, but recovered quickly and met the blows with equal, yet hesitant force, ignoring every ache and tremble in his body.
The Force gathered at Qui-Gon's request and threw the Sith Lord into one of the large ponds. Having successfully distracted Obi-Wan, he sprinted towards the open doors that led into the giant Room of a Thousand Fountains. Every muscle screamed for peace; only adrenaline kept fatigue at bay. Qui-Gon had been a Jedi long enough to know his limits, and at this moment, he knew he had met – and far surpassed – those limits. Any moment now his body would give out, and when it did, Obi-Wan would make his move.
But Qui-Gon did not reach the doors, for his former apprentice recovered quickly and Force-leaped in front of him, cutting off his escape. Saliva dripped from his mouth like a starving rancor about to digest its next meal. However, though tired and weak, the heartbroken Jedi had no intention of giving up without a fight. Either death would take him with a struggle, or the Force would intervene and render the Dark Lord weaponless.
For Qui-Gon had realized one very important fact:
He could not kill Obi-Wan. To do so would destroy Qui-Gon.
The Force flickered a warning, and Qui-Gon suddenly jumped up to the catwalks high above as the crimson blade of Obi-Wan's lightsaber passed through the area where his stomach had previously occupied. Only a second later, Obi-Wan joined him, and their lightsabers clashed and sizzled, creating a dazzling light show on the expansive ceiling.
"Feeling tired yet, Qui-Gon," he taunted, pushing him back with sheer muscular strength. "Your attacks are becoming sloppy."
To reserve his energy, Qui-Gon did not respond. He grasped for the Force's constant presence for strength, but the Force was not nearly as vibrant and easily accessible as usual. He was distracted by his raging emotions, a terrible storm upon the sea of Qui-Gon's inner being. His calm center, usually so attainable, eluded him, and his muscles whined with fatigue.
Obi-Wan, however, only seemed to grow stronger as the length of the battle increased. His attacks came in rapid succession, pushing the Jedi Master back with strength he hadn't competed against since he had fought the Sith apprentice on Naboo.
Right. Left. Right. Down. Back. Left. Duck.
But it was simply too much. He couldn't keep up with Obi-Wan's skilled and ferocious combat style. And, at the moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to.
Force, forgive me.
A flash of crimson.
A tortured howl.
Qui-Gon Jinn collapsed to the grated floor of the catwalk as both leg and lightsaber dropped down to the lush earth of the gardens.
As the dull roar of pain finally subsided, the echo of a new sound appeared. The Sith Lord, Qui-Gon's precious Obi-Wan, was cackling madly, derangement and victory combined with a chilling obsessiveness. His blood-red lightsaber hovered near Qui-Gon's chin, ready to detach another appendage from his body.
Surprisingly, fear did not fill the doomed Master's being. In fact, he was rather…relieved. He would be joining the Force. No more would he be required to live the rest of his life with the pain of Obi-Wan's unspeakable evils and the knowledge that he had held a lightsaber to the boy and taken him from the universe. A life in which he had slain Obi-Wan was no life at all.
"Padawan-mine," he spoke through gritted teeth, trying and failing to suppress the pain. Obi-Wan watched in morbid anticipation, his disturbing yellow eyes alight with vindictive joy. "I never meant…" The pain, interrupting him, traveled to his heart, which was heavy with the knowledge of his mistakes.
He could've prevented this. He could've saved them all from a horrible fate. He could've saved Obi-Wan.
"Please know this, Obi-Wan…I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted this…to happen. I failed you." A sudden stab of pain. The smile had vanished from the Sith's face, replaced instead with a terrifying glare. The lightsaber inched closer to Qui-Gon's exposed neck.
"Admit it, Qui-Gon," he growled. "I was a burden to you. Dead weight you couldn't pass on to someone else. You distrusted me from the moment you met me, and nothing I did could change your opinion of me. Admit it."
He shook his head. It hadn't been like that at all.
"Admit it," the Sith Lord repeated angrily, pressing his booted foot against Qui-Gon's freshly cauterized wound. "ADMIT IT!"
"I will not…admit a lie."
Obi-Wan hissed in rage. Qui-Gon could see the anger flow through his entire body, shaking his limbs, locking his fists. He longed to strike out.
"Why continue to lie, Jinn? You're about to die. Your Chosen One is dead. Just admit it, for Force's sake! Admit it!" He was speaking rapidly, the words dumping out of his mouth like a Nabooian waterfall. He stooped down to Qui-Gon's level, gripping his arm, shaking it as if shaking a semblance of sense into the wounded Master. "Why won't you kriffing admit it?"
Flecks of spit hit Qui-Gon's face, but he dared not turn from Obi-Wan's angry and bewildered gaze. "I told you, Padawan. I d – "
"I'm not your Padawan! You never wanted me! TELL ME YOU NEVER WANTED ME!"
There was a long pause as the frantic Sith and the fatigued Jedi stared at one another; Obi-Wan searched desperately for something behind Qui-Gon's eyes – a hidden truth – but the only thing Qui-Gon's eyes held was sorrow.
"I loved you like a son, Obi-Wan. I'm sorry you never saw that."
The slap of flesh meeting flesh stung his cheek.
"I hate you."
The whispered words pierced Qui-Gon's broken heart. Tears sprang to his eyes.
Obi-Wan rose ominously. The heat from his lightsaber sizzled Qui-Gon's flesh.
The end arrives…
He shut his eyes. "I love you, my Obi-Wan."
He waited for the killing blow.
And waited.
And waited.
It never came.
Obi-Wan had vanished.
Yoda stood in his place, ears sagging and hair matted with sweat. "Leave we must. Into hiding we must go."
Confused, Qui-Gon searched for his former apprentice. "Obi-Wan…?"
"Fled, he did," the Grand Jedi Master replied, covering Qui-Gon's stump of his leg with his cloak. "But remain, the clones do. Unless leave we do, extinct will we become. But grow again, we will," Yoda added, more to himself, "and the light shall return."
As Yoda lifted him with the Force, Qui-Gon knew the despite everything that had transpired, there was still hope.
The Jedi would return.
-----
The Other Author's Notes: Wow. I can't believe I'm finally done. It felt like it would never happen. Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers who have stuck by me throughout this fic; I couldn't do it without you. Well, I mean, I suppose I could…but I would be severely disinclined. I hope this battle was everything you guys were hoping for, and as an added treat, I have a preview of Jedi Trials IV for you guys. Enjoy!
The Jedi are displaced…
"You'll be safe here."
The Senate is destroyed…
Padme shut her eyes and rested her head against the stone. Every single senator: dead. How could he?
Coruscant is in chaos…
"We've received word that resistance groups have sprung up on Coruscant," Mace said solemnly.
-----
The screams of innocents rang through the night…
-----
"The soldiers are acting without a leader."
-----
Blaster fire peppered the sky. The rioting crowd was a sitting bantha for the squads of excellently trained clones.
-----
"I am not going to sit here and let more innocent people die!"
"We're outnumber 9,000 to one! We have no choice!"
"Heh. A choice there always is."
And through it all, one man will fight to prove the impossible…
Adi Gallia blocked his path. He made to move around, but she tilted her head, the tails on her battered headpiece swaying. "Where are you going?"
He met her soft gaze with resolution. "I'm going to find him."
-----
"Obi-Wan is a Sith, Qui-Gon! That is all he can ever be now!"
"He has changed; I know it!"
"Drive out darkness…"
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan…
"…darkness cannot."
…will meet again.
"Only light can that do."
And this time…
"Drive out hate…"
"Obi-Wan…"
…the results…
"…hate cannot."
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"
…will…
"Please…"
…shock you.
"Only love."
"I HATE YOU!"
Jedi Trials IV: Turmoil and Sacrifice
The Saga Ends
This Summer
Rated T
Author's Edit: 8-21-2007