trans_9 | A House Divided [Part 3]

Katara came out immediately, and the sight of the injured man was more than enough to bring out her motherly side. She lifted her arms, and Obi-Wan was gently pushed into the hut via prodding waves. She laid him on the floor, looking over him diligently but careful not to touch him just yet. That might make things worse.

"The wolf," Katara said softly, although she didn't elaborate. She'd seen it in passing, although there had been another man hanging onto it. She vaguely wondered if he had gotten worse than this man. She examined his side, to see how bad it was. "I trust you're smart enough to stay here for now."

A child? Well, she was handling this well. She had a familiar look about her— Anakin had been much the same way. War and strife makes everyone grow old before their time.

"Well, this isn't my first battle," He joked, smiling for her benefit. It hurt, true, but not so badly that one should lose their sense of humor, "And it certainly won't be my last. Auch, careful, now! I'll be fine, really."

A prickle distracted her as she finished securing both Shai-Hulud, a wash of urgency, as if granules of sand were irritating the collar of the stillsuit she no longer possessed. She glanced up and over the landscape, searching. There it was again, an echo, familiar and--

That.

That was Obi-Wan Kenobi Jed-Eye.

She moved, flashing past people she knew, people she did not know, her target in the forefront of her mind. Fast. Fastster. Arha wasted no movement as she turned the corner sharply and dropped to her knees next to Obi-Wan Her displeasure was near palpable as her hands tingled and burned.

She did not like this.

"You have made a mess, Obi-Wan Kenobi Jed-Eye," she snapped, her jaw tight as she plaid her hands over the worst damage. She could almost see it, as if the wounds were pulling her in, pulsing bright orange-red where they needed her attention the most. "Did you forget how to dodge?"

Her palms ached and she concentrated, hissing softly as she worked on trying to stop the bleeding both with the pressure of her hands and with the burning power she likened to a desert storm. It was a healing thing, though the last time she had used it was to absorb and destroy. Now it was roaring and she pushed against the Force gently.

Please.

His blood was brilliant red against her hands, now, and through her sharply focused world, it hissed a warning. She would need Luke...and the young one. They could aid her, though she could feel the Force spreading up her arms already as if it, too, was trying to pull her in.

She reached with her mind.

Jed-Eye. You are needed here.

"You need practice," Arha murmured, her words coming in tight spurts of concentration. "Perhaps. I shall. See to such."

Sometimes, he wished Jedi could use teleportation. It seemed logical--they already had telekinesis and telepathy, why not this other ability?--but Luke didn't have time to ponder that now. Something was wrong.

He and Anakin had actually been having a conversation, one that hadn't included too much wailing and gnashing of teeth. It had felt good to talk to his father thusly, but too late Luke had realized he'd talked himself into a corner, one where he could either lie or take the plunge into the unknown and tell Anakin the truth.

But perhaps the Force intended that for a later date (though it still refused to give him further insight) because at the crucial moment, when Luke had been formulating the words, his danger-sense had gone off--their danger-senses went off and they'd gotten the sense of pain laden with a very familiar presence, and a moment later he and Anakin had barreled off for the Hub and followed the Force's leadings to where a great brawl had raged in the city. Anger, pain--those emotions pervaded the very air of the place, and it nearly made Luke reel. But--

--red blood on white hands--

Luke ran ahead, the Force lending him speed and direction. His lightsaber was a comforting weight on his hip, the long silver tube bumping against his leg with every stride. He could feel his father was right behind him, though much else was clouded through his own worry and the other, darker emotions roiling around the area.

There! A flash of bright red hair, a form laying on the ground--

"Master!" Luke called out, forgetting himself and skidding to a stop next to the other Jedi, dropping to a knee.

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Anakin was a mixture of emotions again, something which had been happening far too often since he met this Luke person. He still was left with more suspicions and questions, but they would have to wait as he ran after Luke. Something was dangerously wrong. He could feel it.

When he got closer. When he saw Luke kneel down beside a figure, his whole world stopped. It was Obi-Wan. He was hurt. Anakin stopped a short distance away. He couldn't bare to bring himself any closer. He was off conversing with Luke when this happened. He should have been there with Obi-Wan. Then this wouldn't have happened. He could have prevented it. He finally got a grasp on himself and moved towards the fallen Jedi, ignoring everyone else in the vicinity.

"Master! What happened?" He stared down at him with an overbearing look of concern. "Who did this to you? Where are they?" His gaze darkened. He would get whoever or whatever hurt his master. He would make them pay for it.

It didn't matter who they were. He had to do something to make up for not being there. For being that moment late and allowing his former master to get injured. It was the only thing he had left to do.

"Well, I didn't do it on—" Obi-Wan retorted, or began to, but was cut off by a very sudden and pressing need to hiss in pained response to her touch. Remembering his training with shame he took a shallow breath, recentered his focus, and finished, "—On purpose, you know."

Of course, Luke and Anakin would choose that moment to show up. He felt idiotic, laid out on the ground like this because of a moment of hesitation and distraction. If only he'd known what that weapon was, if only he'd had proper backup, or the plantsuit hadn't been riding up or the sky were a different color— what purpose was there in being a Jedi if you couldn't focus yourself? He was wandering a little, bloodloss-addled, even now.

"Oh, hello Anakin, Luke, I'm fine, and yourselves?" he deadpanned teasingly, brushing his former Padawan's concern aside, as ever, with a joke. The fact that he was as pale as a sheet, sweating with pain and leaking pints of red out his side did something to mitigate the humor in his tone, but bravely Ben continued, "I thought it would be helpful to tackle some kind of very large wolf-woman, and as it turns out, it wasn't quite as fun as I thought. And before you ask, it's already taken...care...of."

Strange, looking up at those two faces. Blue eyes, both of them. An odd, upside down perspective, and for a moment Obi-Wan simply studied the faces as they were rather than as people, with all the emotional attachments concerned with them. Strange, the same sight cleft to the chin, the eyebrows and... Somewhere in his dazed haze Obi-Wan realized something very terrible had happened, and for a moment he could not grasp what.

And then he did.

"Oh, bugger," the Jedi murmured, in a daze, and if it were passed off as a stunned look of pain rather than surprise, it wouldn't be exactly a lie, now, would it?

"Must you talk? It does you little good," Arha growled, lifting her eyes to glance at Luke for a moment. "Luke. Do you remember. The Observation deck? I need your hands. The little upset Jed-Eye. If he does not. Rip down the. Ship first. Come. Put your hands." She swallowed, wrestling with both the Force and her own healing ability. "Give me your hands, both of you. Now."

She shot Obi-Wan a look that was concerned and annoyed all at once.

Luke bit his lip, looking down at Obi-Wan. He'd sensed a flash of something in the other Master, but thought it rude to poke around too much without permission, and let it be. Probably just a twinge of pain.

"Fa- Anakin," Luke said, reaching out to Arha. "We need to help Arha out, then we should go watch for any troublemakers coming this way. While she's working she's going to need to be defended." And after, he thought, looking at the strained woman. Worry gnawed at him--for Obi-Wan, for Arha who was giving much of her own energy to do this.

"Don't run off just yet, I'll go with you." His blue eyes, looking up at his father as he held his hand out to Arha, were intense with purpose, echoes of a certain Jedi Knight and a certain Senator in them. "You'll need someone to watch your back even if things seem to be winding down out there."

Anakin didn't notice anything in the Force from Obi-Wan, he was far too focused on what he was going to do to those who threatened to harm his master. He stared down at Obi-Wan for a moment, the anger rising in him. At himself, at those who did this, at the fact that he hadn't been there. At well, everything. His lightsaber flew from his belt to his hand and he gripped the metal hilt with robotic fingers.

"No." He stated rather calmly. "I will go after them. You stay here and defend them both. But I am going to finish this."

He turned instantly and took off. His anger seemed to refocus onto the task at hand: finding the person who hurt Obi-Wan. Of course he still wasn't certain what he would do after the fact, but he wasn't quite thinking about that at the moment. Even all thoughts about Luke and his earlier conversation had been lost to him. Only one thing laid upon his mind; vengeance.

"Oh, hell," Obi-Wan cursed, and fought back the surprise, pain and weariness to reach out with one drunkenly weaving hand and clasp Luke's shoulder, "No listen, I'll be fine. You have to go and stop him before he does something stupid. He's not thinking, and if he kills someone, the ship will kill him in return."

And to Arha he continued gravely, "I am sorry." wishing all the while that he could nod or impart some wisdom or another, but he couldn't seem to catch enough breath to say so.

"Troublesome Jed-Eye," she said, the edge of her voice sharp. Her eyes flicked to Luke's for a second. "Your father. Has the restraint. Of a two-year old boychild. After sweets. Go." She grit her teeth. "I can manage. But. I shall have. Words with him."

She took a breath in and shifted so she was more comfortable. It appeared this was going to take long thanks to Anakin's impulsiveness. Please? Arha pushed at the Force gently and felt a tendril of it wash over her cheek. Within Obi-Wan, she could feel the bleeding start to ease and the wounds begin to close, though it was only at the cellular level. There was no change and the wound itself had yet to close its lips. This was slow work indeed. She would most definitely need both Jed-Eye to help her access their Force. It was as if she were standing with the power of the sun at her fingertips and she could not punch through to Obi-Wan save for a trickle of healing.

She leaned in to him, her lips brushing his temple as she spoke. Her mind brushed out against his, her touch strong but light, and soothing as she drew the pain away by bearing its weight herself.

"I require no apology," she said. "I will not let you die. This you must know. If I have to give everything for such, it will be done."

Luke's lips twitched upward, but he nodded in agreement. With Anakin radiating anger in the Force, it was only a matter of time until he either found the being responsible or took his rage out on some innocent, and then they'd all be in a pile of Bantha fodder so deep that they'd need mining lasers to cut their way out.

"Take care of him, Arha, but be careful yourself." He fixed her with a serious blue stare. "I'll be back with Anakin as soon as I can, before he gets himself killed."

Luke unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and jogged out, following the huge well of rage that was his father in the Force and trying to come up with a quick way to stop him that didn't involve igniting the weapon in his hand. Getting into a lightsaber duel with a mad Anakin when there were injured, scared people about wasn't Luke's idea of a very good day.

He reached out with his senses, trying to inject calm into his father's mind, stem the tide of vengeance that threatened to overspill and wash them all away.

Anakin could feel that he was being followed. The light was Luke lingered in the back of his mind, but otherwise his focus was on the path ahead. With the wave of calmness that washed over him, he felt himself slow in his steps, until he came to a halt.

It dawned on him.

Luke.

He turned, his eyes narrowing.

Luke was going to try and stop him. Too many had died because he wasn't there in time or wasn't strong enough to save them. He would not let the crime against Obi-Wan go unpunished. He would not be stopped.

The blade on his lightsaber ignited, illuminating him with a blue light. He would make Luke turn around, go back to Obi-Wan. He would not be chastised by some Jedi -- some Jedi who happened to share the same last name.

A moment of confusion washed over him, but it was brief. He pushed the thoughts away. He would get his answers, after he dealt with Obi-Wan's attacker.

Obi-Wan watched Luke go with trepidation, every nerve and force-sense in him in agreement: this could not end well. Panic never served anyone well, nor did focusing on pain, but if the smile Obi-Wan made for Arha was a little shaky, it was at least an honest effort.

"Hello there," He greeted Arha, belatedly, a hysterical chuckle nearly bubbling up despite the seriousness of the situation. Obi-Wan offered the hand that had slid off Luke's shoulder as Luke himself had done, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She freed a hand, which was still raging with desert power, and sighed as she linked hr fingers through his. He could hush, but she had told him thus many times. Arha felt the surge and press of the healing that wanted to punch through and tried to carefully nudge around for the same sort of access point she'd found with Luke.

"Be still," she murmured, it was not the same as telling him to be quiet for the thousandth time, "and help me access your Force." Her fingers tightened in a squeeze. "I have almost all of the pain. It will not distract you, now." It was there, like a ball of white-hot fire in her mind, flaring like a living thing, and she set it aside, holding it back so she could keep her concentration on knitting the gash and open the way for better focus from Obi-Wan.

He has lost much water. This is where I should be, with the blood.

It reminded her of healing a badly wounded Fremen. It had taken near eight hours of work to stabilize him and three more healing sessions to complete the task. Obi-Wan was not that injured, but still, it would take six hours to heal him on her own the way she was going about it. She turned another fragment of attention inward to Obi-Wan. If the Force would let her through, it was the regeneration of the blood structures (hemoglobin, or the Jed-Eye equivalent, and the defining cell structure) that allowed for oxygen transportation along with clotting factors and tissue regeneration she would keep a sharp focus on. It was much like setting up the chemical process of stopping aging, one which no Reverend Mother was supposed to use. It would do well for healing, though.

She did not sweat, though anyone without her training would have. Her lips were white as she pressed them together, her blue-within blue eyes bright with intent and focus as she worked, and her hair swung forward, tangled and tipped with his blood. Her cheek, bottom lip, and chin had caught some as well. Messy. Battle wounds were always so messy.

Luke came to a stop just outside of the reach of Anakin's lightsaber and looked at him, still radiating calm despite the roil of emotions coming from every other quarter. He couldn't let his father run off half-charged and angry--vengeance wasn't the right answer by far.

Closing his eyes, Luke searched inside himself and through the Force for the right words to use, for the way to persuade Anakin to calm down and come back to do what would really help Obi-Wan.

"I'm not here to fight you," he said simply. "If we duel here we'll only scare more people and cause a panic, and then more will be hurt. The being who did this to Obi-Wan is probably already captured."

Like a mouse on the desert sands, like a little breeze, Sheeana had woven through the battle lines to find Arha. She crouched next to her.

Jedi blood, she found, smelled the same as others. A Bene Gesserit would have been able to staunch this bleeding for herself, forcefully coagulate the bleed to the severed arteries. For a Fremen, the process would have been automatic.

A stabilizing hand on her shoulder (why did Sister Masaari feel different right now?). "Our friends are safe...Just remember the litany." She said quietly before her gaze flicked over to Luke and Anakin. Where those two really going to fight with their wounded comrade right here?

Anakin stared long and hard at Luke. His lightsaber was tilted downward and angled towards the other Jedi. So many others had fallen because he failed to act. He would not allow it this time. Obi-Wan was his only link to his life. Right now the only thing he had left, and that was something he would not lose. Those who dared to take that away from him would suffer dearly.

At this point, he did not care if it was the Jedi way.

"You do not understand. No one ever does."

He thought back to when he slaughtered the Tuskin Raiders. How angry he had been then, but how powerful he felt. He had regretted what he had done afterwords, but the taste lingered in his mouth. And it was something that he could not completely shake. It beckoned him to do more.

And he was about ready to give in.

"Turn around now." He spoke as if he were in charge and giving an order. "I will not tell you again. The one who did this needs to be brought to justice. Or have the people of your time forgotten what that is." His gaze locked on Luke's. He seemed cold, confident, and every bit ready to do whatever it took.

Back in the tent of ice, with two very intense Bene Gesserit stares on him, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. What did these two women expect of him, he wondered. In the darkness within and without himself, Obi-Wan breathed deep and measured, and found in the touch of the Force within him his comfort, like a the bright blue glow of his Lightsaber. Like the Lightsaber...ah. That was it, then. A fellow Jedi had once told him something, and it stuck in his mind, now as more true than ever.

"The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi..."

From the heart of himself, Obi-Wan drew a tendril of power, a seeking vinelet of the Force, like the roots of a water-hungry plant, and directed the power down his arm, to where his fingers curled around Arha's. There was a barrier there between them, but life will always persist and so the root strengthened; no longer slender seeker, now it was the rockbreaking taproot.

"...The Jedi is the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart..."

And the barrier parted in a thousand tiny holes, like the egress of a membrane, like the space between molecules of air, the thousand breathing mouths of a leaf. With care, Obi-Wan grew this power around hers, and channeled it through himself. Like a focusing crystal purified and controlled the energy from the power conduit in a Lightsaber, Ben made easier and more pure the passage of the Force to Arha, by his own capabilities. He knew the energy would be returned to him. Many people saw a Lightsaber and the hilt it came from, and assumed that the battery within must be efficient beyond their wildest dreams. Not so. A Lightsaber was a loop, and gave back nearly all it's power when in use.

"...All are intertwined: the crystal, the blade, the Jedi. You are one."

Arha was aware that Sheeana was there, but her slim smile was all she had for her Sister. She released any fear that might have been lurking within her with a soft breath of acknowledgment. She had looked at this wrong. It was not what it seemed. But then, all things were not as they seemed. Her mind was clear as the Force itself washed through her.

It hit her like a wind storm and exploded around her in a ripple. A ripple of potential, of knowledge, of brilliant possibility, of something new, and in it she remembered The Water of Life. It spoke of new paths, new openings and new life. It was a beginning. Her spine went straight, jerking her head back as her own torrent of healing was released in a breathless cry. If Obi-Wan's Force was the root, Arha's was the desert sun. She shook with the force of it, but kept herself in place as she opened her eyes.

Her breath caught.

Dark blue specks, like tiny granules of Spice Melange mixed with the pale blue wash she had come to associate with the Jed-Eye. She knew where to direct all of it as sure as she knew her name. Calm flooded through her, stripping away everything and revealing it all at once. Stacy, the living ship (not a Thinking Machine, a sentient thing, alive), Sheeana beside her, Luke who wrestled with pulling his father back from his ledge of rage. Anakin who snapped and hissed and needed. Needed to lash out, to punish. She reached out to them. They should come back. Here.

Shai-Hulud, but she could feel the whole ship, all of the life, and those beleaguered by the events that had taken their course. Here they were, separate and yet one. One group, each different in nature, but alive. All of them, even those that were machine--how she felt a wave of confusion at that! They were all. Here. United.

And it shook her.

It shook her to her very core.

It shook the water from her body and tears rolled down her cheeks as she healed Obi-Wan Kenobi Jedi the way it was meant to be done. Arha Masaari was awake. She had been asleep for all of her life. She had thought she was awake as a Reverend Mother, but it was a half truth. Now. Now she was awake.

Edited 2009-09-12 02:01 (UTC)

"I will not leave," Luke replied, pulling his will behind it. He would not let his father be tainted more, even though instinctively he knew that that choice resided with Anakin alone. "To me, there is no justice in vengeance, only the darkness, and I've had enough brushes with that in my lifetime to not see my family do the same."

"Obi-Wan is strong in the Force, and he'll live with Arha tending him," Luke said. He had still not activated his lightsaber, and stared without fear down the blue blade of his father's, the one he had once wielded now with its maker. Luke knew the weapon, as he knew the one who used it.

As he knew, with a breathless rush from the Force, that Obi-Wan would be all right. Whatever they were doing back there, it had loosed a great tide, one that washed over and enveloped the Jedi Grand Master with a kind of power and comfort that he couldn't dream of. It was a torrent of Force and that strange, exotic power that he'd touched within Arha that was both of the Force and entirely something else.

Luke gasped, as he took all this in. Arha, Obi-Wan, Sheeana--when had she arrived? oh well, it didn't matter--Anakin, himself, he could feel them all as clearly as though they were right there in his own mind. It was like the battle-meld they had used so often while flying, and like the deep, affectionate bond between himself and Mara, and like the undying bond between himself and his twin sister.

A sandstorm, sweeping in from the dune sea; a gentle, warm breeze. It was both and neither.

It filled him and for a moment, the lonely pain Luke had been living silently with since Mara had been killed was relieved, and he was not alone.

Luke didn't know he was smiling until some semblance of awareness came back to him. "You see?" he said softly, blue eyes alight with the power of the Force that flowed through him like a strong current, and with what he had just felt. "There is no need for vengeance, because this power we have is greater than anything seeking revenge has to offer us. But right now we're wanted back there."

"Ghafla! Sheeana swore, tensed and jolted as if struck. Her whole body tingled and little spots danced in front of her vision, performing little sparkling pirouettes centered around Arha and Obi-Wan. Her skin tingled all over. And this was just second hand, from touching the woman.

She reached back into herself to get steady. Something important had just happened. Arha had tipped a landmine of the Jed-eye's 'Force' abilities.

"He's not dead, Sister. No...no need to shed water for him." Her sardonic nature was coming back to her.

Humor is a sign of life, after all. She showed me what this healing takes from her when we Shared. I will have to reassure her to keep her from slipping back into a kind of necrosis of the spirit.

Anakin took a step forward as if to threaten Luke with his saber, but he stopped. Something caused him to hesitate. Luke's words...

His family?

The same last name.

He was taken back by a sudden sense of surprise. He stared at Luke, looking him over. There was something so familiar, something that seemed to link them within the Force.

It couldn't be... could it? Padme did say...

The realization struck him like a thousand bullets. He didn't even have time to react when the wave in the force also washed over him. For a moment he thought he was drowning. He almost buckled under it all, but somehow he held his ground.

His eyes closed for a moment, before he opened them to look at Luke again, this time in a much different light.

His future was right before him. And in that moment he was suddenly uncertain of what to do.

"You -- We will talk later."

His thoughts of vengeance were momentarily lost on him. He needed to get back to his one link to reality. The one thing he had left to hold onto. The blade on his lightsaber disappeared and he started to move past Luke to head back to Obi-Wan.

In the wake of the unexpected crush of power Obi-Wan found himself breathless and wet-eyed. A part of him just wanted to lay there and pant, but the practical part that had always won out made him blink and turn his head to look at Arha and squeeze the hand still in his. Without the Jedi's concentration, the power diminished quickly, but the memory of it was more than enough to make him smile.

"Well, that was interesting," Ben murmured under his breath and felt with his free hand for his side. Smooth skin and swiftly knitting plantsuit. It too seemed to be revitalized, binding over the tear with preternatural speed, "Are you alright?"

A House Divided [Part 3]

Re: An Unfortunate Half-truth

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