Taganor smelled of damp grass and wet sky. Thousands of leaves tangled on the branches of their trees, whispering mysteriously in a language Obi-Wan Kenobi had never learned. He stood in the misty air, oblivious to the damp cool of morning, waiting for the sun to arrive and ignite the tropical humidity.
His language had always been the scratch of sand upon his face, the grit of dirt between his teeth, the parched heat of the desert. He'd carried that anchor of home with him throughout his indoctrination to the ways of the Sith, through all the days after he was taken from Tatooine. He no longer recognized the world of his birth. Things were changing, spinning out of his control.
He had come so close to surrender, to giving himself over to the hatred inside...and he could still hear the voice of the Sith who trained him, whispering in his ear as his wounds were pressed with salt and rough cloth. *Focus. Endure. Magnify. Conquer. Dominate. Devour. Destroy...*
So close to reaching out for those dictums...he'd been so close. They seemed so easy, and it was tempting to embrace them in service to his goal of destroying Chun.
The man who moved to stand beside him made no sound, but Kenobi turned his head and nodded, acknowledging this new presence, the bond he could no longer ignore. Together, they leaned against the railing of the balcony, watching the gray mist give way to the sunrise.
Kenobi was the first to speak. "Is he still asleep?"
"Yes." Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, and asked the inevitable question. "You knew Xanatos was a Jedi?"
"I knew he could command the Force. He revealed it to me through his actions, when I was wounded." Obi-Wan paused. "It was a foolish thing to do. I might have had him killed."
"You spared a stranger. I think perhaps Xanatos knows you well, my lord, well enough to know his life is more important than a stranger's."
"He knows nothing of my true nature." Obi-Wan stretched briefly, then wrapped his hands around the granite railing. "How could he? He is my property. I have told him little."
"He knows you struggle with the darkness. He senses much," Qui-Gon said softly. "Xan has a talent for seeing inside the heart."
"Insightful, perhaps, but..." Obi-Wan broke off sharply. "Of what importance is he to you? How is it you know so much of his what he feels, Jinn?" The boundaries of his heart were stretching, taking in new information, and Obi-Wan felt lost in emotions he had never contemplated before. That he could feel jealousy over a pleasure slave had never been within the realm of his experience, but Xanatos had made him reevaluate everything he had once understood about his heart.
"He is - was - my padawan."
Obi-Wan's fingers tightened around the railing until his knuckles turned white. "I see."
"I could not find him after the destruction of the Temple. It has been many years. I believed he was dead. Seeing him here, with you, has been...something of a shock."
Obi-Wan turned and braced his back against the granite. Through the open doorway, he could see Xan, his strong, lean body relaxed in sleep. "Circumstances will make men do things, become things, they could never have dreamed. A man must adapt if he is to survive."
"I would not presume to judge him."
"Wouldn't you?" The words came out more sharply than Obi-Wan had intended. "You refused to adapt here. How could you imagine his situation?"
"I know only what I see."
"What do you think you see, Jedi?"
"A man who would give his life for you. As he was willing to, last night."
"I would never have harmed him."
"Perhaps not, but Xan couldn't have known, not for sure. He values the Light in you, more than his own safety." Qui-Gon paused. "He loves you."
"That's no concern of yours."
"Isn't it?"
Obi-Wan turned his face toward the open sky. "I did not ask for this bond with you, Qui-Gon. I can't pretend to understand it. But I won't discuss things that have no bearing on what has happened between us. Do you understand?"
"Tell me, then, why you came to warn me." The blunt question was fired without preamble.
"Bruck Chun will have you tortured, and killed, and he will make certain you die the kind of death guaranteed to keep the Jedi in hiding forever. I...do not sympathize with his hatred of the Jedi. They are no longer a threat to the Empire."
"True." Qui-Gon nodded. "I sense no urgency from you this morning. Have you so quickly abandoned your plan to smuggle me off this world?"
"You read too much into my warning, Jedi. I propose merely to hide you, to stash you away until the danger is past."
"I'm hidden away quite well in the harem."
"Not nearly as well as I'd like. He will see and know every part of this fortress before he's done. The harem won't escape his notice, either. He's a man of...particular pleasures."
"I see."
Obi-Wan turned his gaze on Qui-Gon, direct, hiding nothing. "I will do the best I can to ensure your safety. Which, under the circumstances, is an empty promise."
"What circumstances?"
"Lord Chun is not a clever enemy, but he has the strength of his hatred, and more resources than I had anticipated. He has brought a full battalion of men, more than enough to overrun the fortress if he should command it. He means to take Taganor for himself, by any means necessary."
"Are you asking me to remain as an equal, or as your slave?" Qui-Gon reached out a hand and clasped Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"On this world, you cannot be my equal. You are my property. Any appearance to the contrary will mean your death." Obi-Wan did not flinch away from the touch, but Jinn's hand burned on him, too warm, too close. "I have no will to compel your cooperation, Jedi. Daro will not be harmed regardless of the choice you make."
Qui-Gon looked out at the swelling sun, sitting fat and hot on the horizon, its top shrouded by sleepy morning clouds. "I have obligations to the Jedi."
Obi-Wan could feel a need growing inside him, a response to the blunt statement of obligation, a rising tide of truth that was harder to crush back with each passing day. He looked at Qui-Gon, thinking of consequences, of the price to be paid if everything fell apart. "I speak to you as a man, and not your master."
"You have never been my master," Qui-Gon said, turning his gaze on Obi-Wan. Inside the dark blue of those eyes, amusement shimmered, and much more. "To be mastered is not at all the same as being enslaved, my lord."
"I will still require you submit to my authority." Obi-Wan's voice rang with a gentle echo of power.
"I submit because you are regent, and because it is what I wish."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. Qui-Gon returned his steady gaze.
"Get dressed and come with me. There's someone I want you to meet."
*****
Sleep was an elusive luxury since the Sith had arrived, and it was rapidly becoming the luxury Valorum most craved. His entire body cried out for rest, but there was too much to do, too many vids to examine, too many security matters in need of his attention. All of which could be handled with some measure of efficiency if he weren't being constantly interrupted by Chun's people, demanding various codes and tours and access he was unprepared to grant without Obi-Wan's approval. Chun's subordinates were slowly infiltrating the entire fortress without his help.
He drank down a cup of morning bitterroot and scrolled through a dozen security reports, things Maul was in charge of, scanning for potential problems. The text blurred for a moment before resolving into a picture of calm normality. Nothing out of the ordinary. Valorum snorted and took another sip of his drink.
There were a number of diplomatic reports as well, line after line of immensely boring and fact-filled summaries of trade agreements and revenue statements. He saved those and set them aside for later. With a sigh, he leaned back in his desk chair and stared out at the inhospitable terrain below. The climate control was working, at last, which was a blessing for all of them. Tempers had been short the past few days, shorter still in the heat.
Too many things were happening at once. Valorum's area of primary concern was the Regent, had been since the moment he laid eyes on Kenobi, who was full of grave authority and a thousand quiet questions. He had given his unshakable loyalty in that moment. Something about the young man inspired trust, and he had never had cause to doubt his decision. Especially after meeting Bruck Chun.
No one had to tell Valorum, or anyone else, that Kenobi and Chun were mortal enemies. It was painfully obvious in their body language, in the way they circled each other like desert beasts scenting prey. But Kenobi was distracted, for good or ill, by his own diverging loyalties, and Chun was focused. It didn't bode well for the Regent, and Valorum took a deep breath, calming his own troubled heart.
Chimes sounded from the outer door. "Come," he called, and swiveled in his chair to greet Lord Chun.
"Valorum, isn't it? We were introduced when I arrived, but I've been busy with other things." Chun smiled, a contortion of his face that reminded Valorum of a bantha in the last stages of water deprivation.
"Yes, Lord Chun. What can I do for you?"
"My aides tell me you've been most...helpful. I've come to express my appreciation for your assistance."
"The Regent has given explicit instructions. You are to be afforded every courtesy."
"Yes. I'm sure he has given you many instructions. Every courtesy, as you say." Chun's smile widened a bit. "Tell me, Valorum, how were you chosen for this post? It's not an easy assignment, catering to the whims of the Regent. Surely you grow tired of it from time to time."
"It is a privilege to serve my lord," Valorum answered. He studied Chun. The Sith Lord's face was perfectly blank, giving nothing away, other than an expression of benign surprise.
"Which lord, Valorum? Skywalker, or Kenobi?"
"Does that matter, my lord?
"Perhaps. But we can leave the subject for another time." Chun settled fluidly into a chair on the opposite side of Valorum's console. "Do you report to Skywalker?"
"I report to the Regent daily, and His Highness is often with the Regent for the daily briefing."
Chun's smile disappeared in the blink of an eye. "Is Skywalker being properly instructed?"
"That is not my area of expertise, Lord. The Regent has brought in a number of tutors who instruct-"
"That's not what I mean, Valorum. Don't play coy with me." Chun sat forward in the chair. "Is he being trained properly in the ways of the Empire? He is, after all, *very* important to the Emperor."
"He receives daily direction regarding the dictates of the Empire." Valorum left his answer vague and counted off the ways in which he might answer, if pressed. There was such a delicate balance, such a fine line, and he did not dare give too much away.
Chun's eyes narrowed. "Does he, indeed?" Valorum said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow and waited. Chun's face transformed itself once again. "Of course he does. Kenobi isn't stupid."
"Hardly, Lord Chun."
Chun leaned back in the chair, smiling indulgently. "I can still remember the day he arrived on Coruscant. Have you heard this story, Chancellor? It's certainly worth hearing." Valorum gave a slight shake of his head. "It's a favorite memory of mine. Kenobi escaped the initial sweep, you know. Somehow, he wasn't found when the Imperial Dictate was issued commanding all women to bring their children for inspection. So he lived many years in obscurity on this Sith-forsaken hellhole. When the Empire arrived to terraform it, he came to our attention. He was too old to make a proper apprentice, but the Sith Lord who found him was a weak and small-minded man, and was blinded by Kenobi's charm."
Valorum tilted his head slightly. "Charm, Lord? He was but a boy."
"He was too old!" Chun slammed his fist down on the opposite side of the desk, rattling Valorum's cup. "He joined our class. He knew *nothing* of the ways of the Sith. It was pathetic, the way he leapt and jumped and tried to fit in. He was clumsy." Chun took a deep breath and settled back into his chair. He smoothed his dark robes with one hand. "We called him Oafy-Wan. It suited him."
Something black and hateful crept into Valorum's heart at that moment, but he said nothing.
"They had to beat him several times before he began to understand the true nature of the Dark Side. The Emperor was quite taken with him." Chun paused, glowering at the corner as if looking for an invisible opponent. "When Skywalker was born, they began looking for a regent right away, but I suppose it was just...fortuitous...that Kenobi was related. Luck. Nothing more. He was pulled from training, proclaimed the Regent of Taganor, indoctrinated into the way of the Sith."
Valorum made a quick calculation in his head. Obi-Wan had arrived on Coruscant as a young man, not a child. He had been in training as a Sith for - how long? a few years? - at the facilities there before being plucked from obscurity to reign over Taganor. No wonder Chun held a grudge.
"So you see, he is not one of us. Not a true Sith apprentice. If they felt he had talent, the Emperor would have insisted he be placed in thrall to a Sith Master, as I was." Chun paused in the telling of his story. "Have you nothing to say, Valorum? Your Regent is a fraud."
"It would seem to me Kenobi's appointment as Regent here is proof enough of his talent, Lord. I can't imagine the Regent would have been sent to oversee Anakin if the Emperor did not have complete confidence in his skills."
"Ridiculous. It's a matter of blood, nothing more! The Emperor wanted no opposition to his appointment. You're a fool if you think otherwise." Chun's angry words cut like the edge of a hard blade, and Valorum stood stiffly, bowing slightly.
"I meant no offense, Lord Chun."
"Oh, naturally not." Chun's scornful dismissal straightened Valorum's spine, added determination to his posture. "He showed constant weakness. He refused to strike the slaves in practice. He shrunk from every live practice drill. He was weak, Valorum. He lacks courage. He is only half the man any other Sith Lord is now, or will be."
"As you say." Valorum raised his defiant gaze to the Sith Lord. "Who am I to argue with a Lord of the Sith?"
Chun looked at him for a long moment, and Valorum fought the sensation of being examined at the microscopic level, of being known without his consent. Eventually, the scrutiny ceased, and Valorum breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief. "Where is our Regent this morning, Chancellor? I visited his rooms this morning and found them empty."
"I would imagine he's in the harem. He spends time there, as is his privilege, when his schedule permits."
The face of the Sith Lord became ugly in its envy for the briefest of moments, but as always, the emotion passed quickly. "Take me there."
Valorum slowed the journey as much as possible, but Chun had a habit of stepping ahead and waiting impatiently for him to catch up. It was disconcerting. They reached the annex dedicated to the harem within minutes. Chun stepped eagerly into the corridor and made his way without instruction toward the women's quarters.
"Do you require anything further, Excellency?"
Chun stopped, pivoted. His eyes narrowed. "Where can I find Kenobi?"
Inwardly, Valorum winced. He had given something away, in his tone of voice, his cautious demeanor. "It's difficult to say. He-"
"Where, Valorum?"
"He will be in the section reserved for his favorites. Near the back of the harem, toward the gardens."
"And does he have a favorite?"
At last, a question that could be answered without an answer. "Not at present."
"Show me."
"Very well." Valorum led the way once again, until they emerged in the courtyard near the quarters in the back. Splashing noises and laughter acted as a lure, drawing Chun closer, until the central fountain and pool came into view. Daro was swimming and throwing water at Leyran, who bent toward the side of the pool, half submerged, beating against the surface and returning fire.
They glanced up at the visitors and all play stopped; both men climbed from the water and knelt gracefully, heads bowed, dripping on the duracrete floor.
Chun knelt gracefully in front of Daro and pulled his face up with a gloved hand. He ran a finger speculatively across the generous lips. "Where is your master, boy?"
"He spent the night in the quarters of...the new slave," Daro said, eyes locked on Chun's.
"Where?"
"There," Daro answered, pointing. He shivered beneath the touch of Chun's hand.
The Sith was on his feet and moving within moments, and through the doors without the courtesy of requesting permission. Valorum held back, just outside; Leyran and Daro raised their heads and peered past the Chancellor.
Chun stopped short, staring. After a moment, he advanced toward the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of the bare chest, staring at the tangled limbs of the man sprawled across the bed.
Xanatos stirred and turned toward the close embrace of the pillows.
Chun smiled.
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