CHAPTER 1
The light tubes in the large dwelling were powered down to half strength and set to a faint blue hue. The hallways were hushed and dim. Beyond a pair of opaque glass double doors, a single glass column stood, as tall as a human figure. It gave off a soft, steady glow.
Blue was the color of mourning on the planet of New Apsolon. Glass columns were used to commemorate those who had lost their lives to injustice. This slender shaft of pure light was for the Jedi Knight Tahl.
Manex, the brother of Roan, the late ruler of New Apsolon, had offered the Jedi his own home in which to mourn Tahl. Manex had tried to save Tahl by summoning the best med team in New Apsolon to treat her. When she had died, he had made the appropriate arrangements. He himself had gone to find the column of light to mark her spirit.
Obi-Wan Kenobi struggled to feel grateful. He did not trust Manex. He did not trust the man’s great wealth or his character. Manex was not interested in anyone’s well-being but his own. Why was he being so kind to the Jedi?
Obi-Wan wished he could talk to his Master about it. But Qui-Gon Jinn was unreachable. He had gone inside the room with Tahl and had remained there ever since.
Obi-Wan sat on the floor outside. He had begun by standing, but exhaustion finally forced him to sit. He wanted to lie down, but he would remain upright as long as he could. It was the only thing he could think of to do for his Master.
The shock was wearing off, but Obi-Wan still had difficulty understanding that Tahl was gone. It meant looking ahead to a future that did not hold her spirit, her humor, and her fierce intelligence. There had been so many times that a kind word or a quick smile had restored him. Tahl knew his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, better than anyone else. She had helped Obi-Wan to understand Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan even suspected that she had played a role in bringing the two of them together after he had left the Jedi order. That had been a deep rift, hard to heal. Yet Obi
Wan had always taken great comfort from the feeling that Tahl wanted Qui-Gon to take him back. She had comprehended more clearly than anyone why he had done what he did. She knew he had truly learned an important lesson about his own character, and she wanted Qui-Gon to give him a second chance.
He had learned many things as a Jedi student - how to turn fear into purpose, how to deepen discipline into will. But how could he turn grief into acceptance? There could be no acceptance of this. Yet somehow he must keep going until he found it.
At first he had been filled with such pain that he could hardly think. Tahl had been kidnapped by Balog, the Chief Security Controller of the planet. He had drugged her and imprisoned her in a sensory deprivation device used for torturing political prisoners. She had been weak when they had released her. But Obi-Wan had felt certain that Tahl’s great strength combined with her Jedi powers would save her. Never for one second had he considered the possibility that she would die.
Neither, he was sure, had his Master. When he had run into Tahl’s room at the med center, he had seen Qui-Gon bent over Tahl’s still body. He saw the sensors stream by in flat, crisp lines, showing that her vital signs were gone. Still Qui-Gon did not move. He held Tahl’s hand and pressed his forehead against hers. Obi-Wan had not only seen his grief, he had felt it like a living shadow in the room. He realized at that moment that Qui-Gon’s feelings for Tahl were deeper than friendship. They were as deep and complex as the man himself. Qui-Gon had loved her.
There was nothing Obi-Wan could do to help his Master now. Qui-Gon had not responded to his words or his presence. Obi-Wan desperately wished he were older than sixteen. Maybe with more maturity he would know how to comfort someone whose world had collapsed.
It hurt him to see Qui-Gon suffering. His Master had only left Tahl’s room once, to rush out on a mysterious errand. He had tersely told Obi-Wan when he returned that he had managed to find two more probe droids. He had sent them to track down Balog. Now he would return to Tahl’s side.
“Is there anything I can do, Master?” Obi-Wan had asked.
“Nothing,” Qui-Gon had replied, and closed the door behind him.
Obi-Wan was used to silence between them. It was often a form of communication. He had come to understand that his Master was a man of few words. But this silence was different. He could not read it. Over and over the words Qui-Gon had spoken at Tahl’s deathbed ran in his head: There is no help for me now. There is only revenge.
Revenge. Obi-Wan had never heard Qui-Gon use that word. It was not a concept the Jedi would ever endorse. No revenge, only justice. That creed was written on the heart of every Jedi. Revenge led to the dark side. It twisted the mind and crippled duty into something full of ego and darkness.