Echo - Chapter Seven

Iaco Stark woke with a splitting headache. His first realization was that he was in a life pod. His second was that he was in trouble.

It didn't take a lot of brains to figure out what happened. Generally speaking, if you don't know how you got into a life pod, someone put you in it. In this specific set of circumstances, Iaco was pretty sure that he had been placed here by his associates for the Jedi to find.

Or to be more specific, his former associates.

To say that Iaco was a little pissed off would have been an understatement. Iaco Stark - infamous pirate and instigator of the hyperspace wars that bore his name - was not a person accustomed to being used as a scapegoat. When he found himself with narrowed options he normally had a backup plan; a way to scoot out the proverbial back door. If no back door was available he was the sort that made one.

The last time he'd been in tight quarters with the Jedi he'd come out the victor, if only narrowly. No one could have guessed that he would manage to walk away from the war he started as a legitimate businessman. He hadn't made many friends in the process, but Iaco wasn't the sort that cared much about having friends.

Somehow he didn't think his history with the Jedi was going to help him this go around. In fact, it was likely to hurt him. Jedi got a bit testy when one of their own fell and, in spite of their chanting about peace and serenity, Iaco knew they were enough like every other sentient in the galaxy and could hold a grudge.

Assuming someone found him, he'd be taken on a Republic cruiser. While the almighty Jedi would call it "offering him their hospitality" in reality he would be under arrest. Since there was little to no chance that anyone survived the assault, Iaco would be the only witness - and possible cause - of the incident. If he opened his mouth, the Commerce Guild would deny everything and the mysterious Lord Sidious would likely have him eliminated. Even if he did turn informer, there was no one to verify his story. Iaco would be unable clear his name and would probably rot under Republic guard for suspicion of treason. From where he sat, he was out of positive outcomes.

However, being picked up by a Jedi and placed under arrest was preferable to the alternatives. Starving, freezing in the vacuum of space, or death by asphyxiation were not on Iaco's list of fun ways to spend his day.

He turned on the distress beacon and waited to be found.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qui-Gon Jinn's long strides plowed through the snowdrifts. Though Obi-Wan had balked, he sent his Padawan to return the fighter to the delegation. He certainly hadn't needed the training bond to know how unhappy was Obi-Wan about the edict. The nearly petulant look on the Padawan's face, and the argumentative words, had been more than enough. However, Obi-Wan’s happiness, or lack thereof, was of little consequence in the matter. The Padawan was injured and it was too late in the day to expect they would be able to transport Senator Organa before sundown. One of them needed to look after the delegation. To Qui-Gon the choice was clear and he had sternly sent Obi-Wan Padawan to do what was required.

The light was fading rapidly and Qui-Gon grew concerned. Shifting the medkits and survival gear strapped to his back, he put on a bit more speed. While the crevasse would offer some natural shelter from the biting winds that cut across the frozen surface of Rhen Var, it was still more than cold enough to kill. He had to find the Senator before it was too late.

Soon the break in the ice widened. Qui-Gon pulled a light from his belt clip. The beam flared to life and he swept it back and forth, searching. Obi-Wan's description of the location where the Senator lay waiting had been thorough. The injured Bail Organa should be somewhere nearby.

Opening himself to the flow of life around him, Qui-Gon let himself be led. In no time, a small lump of blue and gray was revealed to the artificial glow. It didn't move when the Jedi Master approached.

Bail was huddled in the thermal blanket, shivering in his sleep. The man's face had a waxy ashen cast. Dried blood, almost as black as Bail's hair, streaked the side of his face. His breathing came in short rapid bursts that spoke of great pain.

Qui-Gon removed his gloves and dropped to his knees beside the Senator. Trying not to jostle Bail, Qui-Gon removed the Senator's gloves as well and took the two cold hands in his own. Bail's life-force was dim, but there. Qui-Gon centered himself, pulling the Living Force around him and extended that power and warmth to the shivering body before him. As he attempted to help Bail Organa cling to life, Qui-Gon probed the nature of his injuries. It quickly became clear that the man would need a bacta tank, and soon, if he were going to survive.

Qui-Gon released Bail's hands. He had done what he could and the priority now was retaining body heat. If he could stabilize Bail's core body temperature, and perhaps raise it a few degrees over the course of the night, the man might stand a fighting chance.

The Jedi removed the packs from his back and got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is Qui-Gon?"

"My Master remained with Senator Organa. "Obi-Wan limped slightly, gritting his teeth against the extra strain the rations packs added. "He sent me with rations. I will return for him in the morning."

Guards rushed forward to assist in unloading ration kits from the fighter. Senator Beruss followed Obi-Wan, clearly unsatisfied with the information he had been given. "What of the Senator? Why didn't you bring him with you?"

Obi-Wan frowned. He was irritated and in pain. Taking a deep breath, he tried to release some of his negative feelings into the Force and turned to address Senator Beruss. "Senator, the fighter had room for only a pilot and a passenger. My Master felt it prudent for me to return with rations. I did so. It is now too late and cold to retrieve either him or Senator Organa. If you have questions regarding the decision, you may ask my Master in the morning."

Before Doman Beruss could ask another question, Obi-Wan turned and walked away.

Several hours later Obi-Wan sat quietly, far from the campfire and the other guards. Though his exterior was stoic, to the eye of another Jedi Obi-Wan's mood would have been obvious. He was sulking. Had Qui-Gon scolded him, Obi-Wan would have been able to handle it. However, Qui-Gon had left such tutelage for another day and done something even worse - he had sent his Padawan away.

Obi-Wan always knew when he greatly disappointed his Master. The training bond was not necessary in such cases. There was a stern look of sadness etched on Qui-Gon Jinn's features that lead, inevitably, to only one response; Obi-Wan was made to leave his Master's presence and given an assignment so simple a youngling could manage it.

Sometimes the silence and quiet rebuke would last for weeks. Once, when they returned to the temple after a particularly bad mission, Qui-Gon had sent Obi-Wan to assist the kitchen staff for nearly a standard month. It might have been more enjoyable had Obi-Wan been allowed to cook but his Master had apparently left instructions with the staff that his Padawan was to do nothing of consequence. He had spent his time mopping floors, washing dishes, and generally being miserable.

He always returned from such exiles with a strong desire to try harder. Obi-Wan would redouble his efforts to please Qui-Gon, studying late into the night and doing his best to be over prepared for their next mission. Qui-Gon unfailingly responded to Obi-Wan's hard work in the same way, he ignored it completely.

Sometimes Obi-Wan felt extreme frustration at his Master's behavior. Excellence, it seemed, was routinely expected and only failure was noticed. It had always been that way. Obi-Wan had tried so hard to win Qui-Gon Jinn's approval and a place as his Padawan. Over and over the Jedi Master had held Obi-Wan at arms length. Yet, in the end, Obi-Wan's perseverance had won out. Even his mistake on Melida/Daan had, in time, been forgiven. It was this, among other things, that gave him absolute faith in Qui-Gon Jinn.

Obi-Wan resolved to meditate on his actions and accept whatever punishment his Master chose. This mistake too would pass and he would find some way to win his Master's approval once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mace Windu looked through the window of the medbay with a frown on his dark skinned face. Iaco Stark sat on an examination table in the sterile room beyond. The technician that delivered the report to Mace left the Jedi standing in silence to ponder the information he received.

A door slid open to admit Kit Fisto. He moved silently to stand beside Mace. Together, the pair pondered the newly acquired passenger.

"Have they completed scanning of the debris field?" Mace asked.

Kit nodded, the long tentacles on the Nautolan's head swaying. "Nothing."

Mace frowned. "Then they have to be on the planet. Qui-Gon and I may not see eye to eye on many things, but he's far too competent to get caught in something like this. I refuse to believe that he and Obi-Wan are dead. We would know."

"My thoughts as well," Kit replied. "I gave the order to begin scans of the surface. I also have them sending out test signals over the normal frequencies. The last report said they were taking a group to some ruins but didn't give coordinates. If they're down there, we'll find them."

Nodding, Mace turned his attention back to Iaco Stark. The situation didn't add up. There was something strange at work here. He had felt uneasy ever since they settled into orbit around Rhen Var. It was something elusive, like a furtive movement caught with the corner of one's vision, lurking out there.

Kit gestured toward the window. "What did the check reveal?"

"There's nothing wrong with him," Mace responded. "He has a nasty bruise on the back of his head. The technician's best guess was someone struck him from behind with the hilt of a blaster. Other than that, he's perfectly fine."

"Then why isn't he speaking?"

"That's exactly what I was standing here wondering before you came in."

"I don't like this Mace. There is a disturbance here - something sinister and dark. I do not believe it to be an echo of the attack. It feels far older."

"I feel it too. However, our priority is the mission. Salvage the delegation. Retrieve Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Those objectives must take precedence. When we return to Coruscant, and a full report is made, we will discuss it in Council and send a team for further investigation. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night had been long.

After tending to Senator Organa, Qui-Gon set up the emergency shelter. Staking it down with metal spikes and packing loose snow up the first few centimeters of the fabric tent ensured both extra stability and additional insulation. He then transferred the Senator to the shelter.

The man had hardly stirred when Qui-Gon lifted him from the ground. A low moan of pain had been all the acknowledgment Bail gave that he was aware of being moved at all. It wasn't a good sign.

Wrapping Bail in the other thermal blanket from the emergency kit, Qui-Gon went about the business of cleaning the Senator's visible wounds. The cut was, indeed, deep and reached back from just above the temple and around into his hair. Snow melted in a cup over a small portable flame cleared away the crusted blood. Qui-Gon applied bacta treated gauze to the cleaned wound and hoped that sepsis would not set in.

Things only worsened in the night. Several times Bail had spoken. Delirious and dreaming the Senator carried on one-sided conversations which, while somewhat difficult to follow, had been rather revealing. Qui-Gon had listened as the young man argued fiercely with someone that Alderaan must become a haven for refugees of some unknown war. Later, the man had whimpered and called out for his father. Just before dawn, Qui-Gon had heard his own name and that of Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth mentioned. Bail had grown increasingly agitated and incoherent after that.

Qui-Gon's attempts to wake the Senator did not achieve the hoped for results. Though Bail opened his eyes periodically, they remained glazed and the Senator never left his delusions. It saddened the Jedi greatly. While the Senator from Alderaan was young and a bit idealistic, Qui-Gon had developed a certain fondness for the man. Bail was well intentioned, earnest, and bright. Though he was a politician through and through, and as such should not be trusted completely, Qui-Gon had to admit that the Alderaani Prince had the makings of a strong, fair, and honest leader. It would be more than a shame if such a life were to end so soon.

But, such was the will of the Unifying Force. While sad and tragic, sometimes the destiny of a man or woman's life was simply to find an early end. Perhaps Senator Organa was meant to find the conclusion of his story here on this planet. Perhaps not. All Qui-Gon could say was that he would do his best to ensure Bail's survival. He could do no more than that.

The hours passed and the fabric of the tent began to lighten in color. Qui-Gon's comlink chimed once before a crisp female voice filled the shelter.

"This is Republic Cruiser, Intrepid, scanning all frequencies. Please respond. Repeat, this is Republic Cruiser, Intrepid, scanning all frequencies. Please respond."

Qui-Gon pulled the communicator from his belt with a sigh of relief. Perhaps the young Senator's destiny was not yet sealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Obi-Wan!" Bant Erin smiled as she greeted her friend. "I am so glad you are all right!"

"It's good to see you too, Bant."

"What happened?"

Obi-Wan didn't get a chance to respond. Kit Fisto left Senator Beruss and moved to stand next to his Padawan. "Obi-Wan. Report please."

Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to the Jedi Master and made a swift summation of the attack on the delegation. He briefly recounted what he knew and then said, "Master Fisto, now that you are here I respectfully request to be allowed to return to my Master and Senator Organa. "

"There is no need. Garen Muln is on a transport with a med technician. They should be picking up Qui-Gon and the Senator now. You may meet them on the ship."

Bowing again, Obi-Wan tried to hide his disappointment. His Master had obviously expressed his displeasure to Kit Fisto and the exile had begun. "Of course. "

"Padawan, take Obi-Wan to the ship immediately. Master Windu will want to speak with him as soon as possible regarding this base. "

"Yes, Master," Bant replied.

Obi-Wan followed Bant silently as she moved toward her fighter. She stopped and turned instead of making the ascent to the cockpit. She looked concerned. "Obi-Wan, what is wrong?"

"I've failed him again, Bant." Obi-Wan sighed heavily and scuffed a boot against the compacted snow.

"Obi-Wan, this cannot be so." Bant reached forward and embraced Obi-Wan. "You always expect too much of yourself. You see this in Qui-Gon when it is not there. He thinks so much of you!"

"I acted recklessly. I put the Senator in danger. I almost got killed. Qui-Gon had to save me."

Bant pulled back, her silver eyes looking deep into Obi-Wan's troubled gray ones. "Obi-Wan, do not worry. Qui-Gon will understand. If correction is required he will give it, but he will be still be your Master and your friend."

"Bant, it's just that..." Obi-Wan frowned as his words trailed off.

"Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and the Council do not judge your actions based on the mistakes of long ago. If they do not, then you should not judge yourself that way. You must stop this. You have to let it go.

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan wondered how it was that Bant always managed to cut away the layers of complexity and get to the source of a problem. She was right. If Qui-Gon disciplined him in some way it was not because of Melida/Daan or any other mistake he made. It was for the present moment. He had to let go of his fears and stop worrying that every decision he made would be a wrong one. A real Jedi, a Knight, would not spend his time wondering what another Jedi would do in a situation. He would not crave approval or praise. He would be open to the Force and do what was necessary with confidence. Obi-Wan suddenly realized that he had to start trusting himself the way he trusted his Master or he would never be allowed to undertake the Trials.

"You're right, Bant. You always give me such good advice."

"Of course I do, Obi-Wan." Bant laughed. "Now take my advice and get in the fighter. It is cold here! We will talk more where it is warm!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Your Highness."

Bail was vaguely aware that someone was talking to him. However, he was no longer sure if the person really existed. A part of him was lucid enough to realize that his father and sister could not have been there, no matter how vivid the delusion. He had not seen the Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth in many years. But Qui-Gon Jinn - that may have been real.

"Senator Organa? Can you hear me?"

The voice was a dull and distant echo - a wet and hollow sound like the ping of a stone dropped down a long well shaft. Struggling to pull himself free of the dream world that had become his reality, Bail's eyes fluttered open. What he saw presented itself in blurry shapes with soft coronas of light. Was he in some kind of shelter? How did he get there? A familiar brown robe and braid came into view but the indistinct features of the face seemed wrong somehow. "Obi-Wan?"

"You're safe now, Your Highness. "

Strong arms slipped under Bail and cradled him carefully. The rough feel of the robe was reassuring. Something about the smell seemed different as well, but Bail's fogged mind allowed the detail to pass. "I knew you would come back for me," he said weakly.

Bail's rescuer said nothing and simply stepped from the shelter into the cold air. Shivering and coughing Bail huddled close to the warm body that held him. The Prince groaned in pain as he put his arms around the neck of the person that carried him.

Soon his position was shifted. Bail was being lowered to the ground. A hand carefully cradled his head.

"We'll hoist you up to the transport now."

"Obi-Wan, don't leave me." Bail felt weak and the world was going dim. He clenched his hands in the robe, not wanting to be alone again. He pulled with all his strength, bringing the face down close to his own. His last act before succumbing again to the dark was to press his lips to a cheek and whisper, "I trust you."

Garen Muln blushed slightly as he untangled the sleeping Senator's fingers from his robe. While he was sometimes mistaken at a distance for Obi-Wan - the similarity of build and coloring had even been used as a deception on occasion - having a Senator kiss him was rather unnerving. He looked up into the face of Qui-Gon Jinn. "I apologize, Master Jinn. I assure you it was not intentional."

"Obviously." Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Bail Organa. His face held an expression of amusement and surprise. "I think, perhaps, I have more to discuss with my Padawan than I thought."

"Sir?" Garen looked confused.

"Never mind. Let me help you with the stretcher."