DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
N.B. Thoughts indicated by // and Italics
“Garret,” Obi-Wan called, striding up to the rebel. Garret looked surprised to see so much energy and determination coming from the Padawan. “I need to call a rally. Can you gather the people?”
Garret glared at him, reading his intentions in his eyes and face. “You’re insane,” he growled. “Don’t you think we’ve already tried that? Well, we have, and it didn’t work. That’s why all these people are in here.”
“But it’ll be different this time,” said Obi-Wan.
“What, because you’re here?” said Garret, his voice fairly dripping with bitter sarcasm. “Are your ‘Jedi powers’ going to train these people to fight like soldiers? Stop fantasizing, boy,” he said viciously. “The Government has won. All these people are gonna die. So’s your friend over there. Probably you, too. And me. We’re just not strong enough. Deal with it.” He turned and stalked away.
Obi-Wan felt a choking anger rising within him. Garret’s words had stung, especially when he mentioned Qui-Gon. The Padawan took a deep breath and pushed aside his anger. Then he followed after Garret. He caught the rebel by the arm. Garret whirled abruptly, violently shaking off Obi-Wan’s hand.
“Garret,” said Obi-Wan calmly. “I will not give up. If no one will help me, I will fight alone, but I think someone will follow me, even if it is only Corena. She at least has the courage to keep fighting.” He paused. Garret was expressionless. Obi-Wan sighed. “Besides, if you’re so sure you’re going to die, why not go down fighting? Give Yemil Ch’Andri something to remember. And when we fight, there’s a chance, however small, that we can win.” He could see a shadow of doubt -- maybe even hope -- in Garret’s eyes and plunged onwards. “Will you gather them for me? Will you at least leave the decision up to them? You don’t have to fight, yourself... but I would be proud to fight beside you if you did.”
Their gazes locked and their wills clashed in the long silence that followed. It seemed like years before Garret looked away. “All right,” he said. “I’ll get you your rally, Jedi. But I still think you’re crazy.”
Obi-Wan fought back a grin. “Thank you, Garret,” he said, but the rebel was already halfway across the room. “You won’t regret it, I promise!” he called after him, then stood smiling after the retreating figure.
He sensed a presence behind him and looked down at the old woman. He took her callused hands enthusiastically. “Corena, we’re going to fight,” he whispered excitedly. “Garret’s arranging a rally. I’m going to try and lead them against the Government.” Corena’s face was neutral, but her one eye sparkled.
The hours passed slowly and Garret disappeared into the maze of underground tunnels to gather the other rebels. At lunch, as he had at breakfast, Obi-Wan quietly gave Qui-Gon his own food, as well as that which was given to Qui-Gon, pretending he had eaten already. The Jedi Master was even harder to rouse than he had been that morning, and his grip on consciousness was shakier. While awake, he asked about Obi-Wan’s progress with the rebels. He smiled weakly as Obi-Wan told him of the rally planned for that night. The Padawan took hold of his Master’s hand -- the left one -- and realized with horror that it was growing cold. He needed to get Qui-Gon help soon or the arm would be lost. Obi-Wan would not allow himself to think of what would happen to Qui-Gon after that. He would get his master out of there in time. He had to.
Once he had seen Qui-Gon re-bandaged and asleep, Obi-Wan began visiting the other patients, checking their progress and caring for their ills as best he could. None of them seemed to be getting better, but at least some weren’t getting any worse. He was worried. Last time someone had tried what he was about to try to the result was this roomfull of wounded people. The Force only knew how many others had died. Obi-Wan was confident of his own abilities, but he feared putting innocent people in danger. Still, a wrong had been done and as a Jedi it was his duty to try and right it. In the end the people would have to choose whether to follow him or not. He would force no one, nor would he give them false hopes. He knew as well as Garret how small the chances of survival were, but unlike Garret, Obi-Wan knew the Force.
He felt the ancient strength in him and around him, just waiting for him to stretch out to it. When the time came it would be there for him. But the rebels couldn’t understand what it was to fight with the Force as an ally. They had only themselves to rely on. Obi-Wan vaguely remembered what it had been like before he had found the Force and been trained to use it. He had felt alone and frightened, never knowing what to expect or when to be afraid.
He would have to appeal to the faith of the people, if they had any left. He would lead, and it would be up to them to follow or not.
Outside the cave he heard the faint whispering of many people moving quietly. He sensed anger in them, and determination. They were ready to be led. He smiled grimly as the certainty grew. Qui-Gon would be pleased. As the other rebels filtered into the room, ragged and thin but strong, Obi-Wan knew there would be a rebellion, and it would be a powerful one.
There were over a hundred of them, filling the room almost to bursting. Obi-Wan looked over and found Garret standing next to him, frowning moodily.
“Well, Jedi,” he said into Obi-Wan’s ear, “you’ve got your rally. You’re on your own from now on.”
Obi-Wan swallowed. He pushed his way to the center of the room. He wanted to burst into a charismatic speech, but now that the moment had come he was assaulted by an acute attack of stage fright. Besides that, no one was paying any attention to him. He began to grow frustrated. Then an idea hit him.
He unbuckled his lightsaber and held it up over his head like a torch as it ignited. There was an immediate reaction from the crowd. Soon Obi-Wan found himself in the middle of a little clearing where the crowd had backed away. A hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on him and there was complete silence except for the hum of the lightsaber. He extinguished the saber and clipped it back on his belt. He looked around at all the expectant faces surrounding him and his mind went blank.
Obi-Wan breathed deeply and shut his eyes for a moment, centering himself. Then he addressed the crowd. “You all know why you’re here,” he said, gaining confidence. “It’s time the Central Government was defeated once and for all.” A halfhearted cheer arose from the crowd. They had done this before. “I know previous efforts have failed, but this time we will focus on organization and strike the Government before they know we exist. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. My Master and I were sent to resolve this conflict. When we landed Yemil Ch’Andri ordered us to strike down the rebels or die. But we are Jedi.” There was an exhilarating murmur from the crowd. “We escaped, although my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, was wounded. We were offered hospitality here. We have seen what you suffer. My Master ordered me to lead you to freedom, and I will do just that.” This time there was more vigor to the cheer.
“I understand that many people may die with this effort, but better to die on your feet, fighting, than wait for disease or Government troops to take you. I will lead you, if you wish it and if you will follow.” The cavern was filled with cheers. Obi-Wan grinned, his eyes shining.
“Good!” he cried. “Our first move must be to arm ourselves. Does anyone know where the Government weapon supplies are?”
“I do!” cried a voice in the crowd. Obi-Wan looked down in surprise as a little girl, scarcely over ten, he would guess, elbowed her way into the ring in the middle of the crowd. She looked around at all the people and smiled, squaring her gangly shoulders and brushing back her long, lank brown hair. “It’s right up next to the Palace,” she announced to the crowd. “I used to watch them guard it before we had to hide.” She swelled with pride at her audience’s approval.
“Well then,” said Obi-Wan. “I’ll need twenty of you to come with me. We’ll move as soon as it’s dark.” There was a surge of volunteers. Obi-Wan picked out twenty men and women, letting the Force determine his choices. Then, while they waited eagerly, Obi-Wan went in search of Garret.
He found the rebel sulking in a corner. “Will you come with us?” he asked without pretense. “I need someone who knows the tunnels. I don’t ask you to put yourself at any great risk, just to get us there and back again as quietly as possible.”
Garret threw his hands up in a gesture of hopelessness. “Why not?” he groaned. “You’ve already stuck your crazy ideas in all these people’s heads, why not mine?” He stood reluctantly. “Lead on, Jedi.”
Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he liked the tone of Garret’s voice, but there was clearly not much he could do about it. The crowd cheered them and slapped them on the backs as they made their way towards the exit tunnel. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Obi-Wan heard a familiar voice say, “I’m proud of you, Padawan.” He followed Garret into the maze of tunnels smiling.