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.
The battle was over.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stared out over the outskirts of the city, his eyes tearing up. He was glad for the tears; they blotted out the horrible images that he had seen in the past couple of days.
When he looked at the thousands of broken, burned, dead bodies lying on the battlefield, he didn’t see them. Didn’t see them either alive or dead. He simply relived every horrific moment of the battle against the Tarlean rebels, who had attacked during the peace talks. He saw snarling, hideous faces, saw Qui-Gon dashing among them, face wild and intense, lightsaber drawn. Saw himself hammering his way through the dark hallways of the capital city.
Obi-Wan slammed into a wall, almost slashing his own chest with his lightsaber. A pair of thick, muscular arms were locked around him, trying to strangle him. Obi-Wan lashed out frantically, bisecting the rebel with a anguished scream.
“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon shouted, coming back down the tunnel. “Are you all-”
More blaster fire. Qui-Gon spun and deflected the blaster fire with his lightsaber. Rebels down the halls shrieked in pain and rage. “Go!” he shouted. “Get the governer away from here!”
Obi-Wan hesitated....
Obi-Wan found himself obsessing on those moments, replaying them. There were a thousand moments where he could have done something differently, could have moved faster, could have done something different.
He hadn’t. He had hesitated, not certain whether to help his master repel the attackers.
“Obi-Wan!” shouted Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan snapped out of his daze, turning and sprinting down, deeper into the tunnels. Ten rebels met their end as they attacked the young Jedi. The tunnels wound forever into the depths of the city...
He paused at the dungeon door, and slashed at the lock. It popped open...
“Obi-Wan!”
“Obi-Wan?” asked Qui-Gon’s deep voice. Obi-Wan stiffened a little. The Jedi Master had come behind him silently, as he always did. Qui-Gon slid his legs onto the balcony edge to sit alongside Obi-Wan. His right arm was bandaged and bound in a sling, but he was all right besides that. Obi-Wan did not look at him.
Qui-Gon ran into the chamber, urging the frightened Tarlean governer and officials to flee. Obi-Wan stared out into the corridor, heart beating like a drum. His hands shook, gripping the lightsaber as if it were a lifeline. He shook his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts.
“What are you do-” he heard Qui-Gon shout.
“Are you all right?” Qui-Gon asked, leaning forward to look at his apprentice’s face. His blue eyes were sad and sympathetic, wanting to know what was going on.
Obi-Wan shook his head, unable to choke a word from his closed-up throat.
He spun to see one of the officials draw a blaster and aim it at Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan stared in horror, then slashed at the blaster, slicing off the barrel. The official whipped out another and shot Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master twisted aside, taking the blast in his shoulder....
“What’s wrong?” Qui-Gon asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head again, feeling hot tears beginning to well up in his eyes.
“Master!” Obi-Wan screamed, lunging at the official, lightsaber drawn. Qui-Gon, looking very surprised, was slumped against the wall with one hand pressed against his wound. The Tarlean fired a single short blast at the governer, throwing his superior to the floor with a smoking hole in his chest.
Obi-Wan killed the traitor with a single slash of his lightsaber.
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly, putting his good hand on his apprentice’s shoulder. Obi Wan bowed his head, trying hard not to show weakness.
The next half-hour was a whirl of noise, confusion, and herding frightened government personnel into their crowded escape shuttles. Qui-Gon’s right arm was useless from the blaster’s nerve disruption, dangling limply at his side, but he ran through the crowds, urging the Tarleans into their vehicles. Obi-Wan helped him, shoving the Second Minister into a speeder...
He felt shell-shocked. If he had acted differently, a man would not have died.
Qui-Gon saw the images running through his apprentice’s head, felt his biting anguish. “Obi-Wan, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know he had another blaster.”
Obi-Wan knew that his master was right, but it didn’t lessen his agony.
Obi-Wan squashed himself into the speeder next to Qui-Gon. The Jedi was holding onto his blasted shoulder, slightly paler than before. The Tarlean officials were huddled in the back of the shuttle, chattering with fear as Obi-Wan started the engines and took off, toward the rendezvous point.
He felt horrible. He had failed miserably.
Qui-Gon put his good arm around his shoulders and said quietly, “Obi-Wan, you shouldn’t dwell on the past this way. All you’ll do is despair because of something that can’t be helped now. Because of your actions before, the Second Minister is now governer, and the Tarlean have captured the rebels.”
“But,” Obi-Wan said softly. “The governer’s still dead. Because I didn’t move fast enough, because I didn’t-”
“You didn’t want to kill, Obi-Wan. You didn’t want to kill anyone, traitor or not. There’s no shame in that.”
The tears that had threatened Obi-Wan before overwhelmed him, spilling from his eyes and burning their paths down his cheeks. Qui-Gon hugged him with his good arm and rocked him back and forth, like a child.