Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

The face looking back at him was so young.  Memories of older faces flickered past his eyes (he’d worn them once; would wear them again).  He ran a hand over his clean-shaven chin and grimaced.

Obi-Wan couldn’t wait until he could grow a beard (again).  He couldn’t wait until he could lose the hairstyle (again), although like all Padawans the braid held some sentimental significance as it tracked his progress (he’d put it on Qui-Gon’s pyre).

Obi-Wan ran a hand down the length of the braid; it was all at once a familiar and no-longer familiar gesture.

He felt young.

There was real strength in his body (there was a body!).  He would need to perform his katas and spar later to get used to it again (he was used to it).  He figured he could get some of the pilots and guard to spar with him.

His meditation had eased a lot of the mental and emotional disconnect between his living self and the Force Ghost he had become, but there was still a sense of dissonance. 

He was Obi-Wan Kenobi (Padawan, Jedi Master, Ben Kenobi); he was who he had been before the merger, but more.  Memories and knowledge hovered at the back of his mind like humming beezles waiting for the right moment (to be remembered).

He took a steadying breath.

“Objectives,” he said out loud, his eyes on the image in the mirror.

Save Qui-Gon.

Save Anakin.

Save the Jedi.

Defeat the Sith.

And something about clones was poking him in the back of his mind – images flooded him (Kamino, Jango Fett, the 212^th Battalion, Cody) and he took another deep breath.

Right.

The clones.

Were the clones already in production? 

Timing, he remembered, was problematic.  They’d thought Master Sifo-Dyas had died somewhere around the same year as the Naboo invasion, but was he already dead now?  Had the missing Master even been the one to order the clones or had the Sith used his name?  If Sifo-Dyas had ordered the clones, the Sith had usurped the idea pretty damn quickly and used them to wipe out the Jedi.

And did he want to stop the creation of the clones completely?  All those lives gone before they were even born (Cody, Rex, Fives…and thousands more).

Obi-Wan took a breath.  He centred himself in the Force (it was easier today than yesterday).  His lips twisted as the Force assured him the clones were their will, but perhaps not the inhibitor chips which had overridden the clones’ own minds (Sith) and Obi-Wan could definitely deal with them in time. 

It was tomorrow’s problem, Obi-Wan considered, lips twisting wryly as Qui-Gon’s oft remonstration to him to stay in the here and now drifted through his mind.

Saving Qui-Gon from his death was the first priority, but he had to account for the fact that Qui-Gon himself would presumably be working towards the same goal.  Which meant it was likely best Obi-Wan stay out of his way and remain alert, ready to help him – and if that didn’t accurately describe most of their missions, he thought wryly, he wasn’t a Jedi Padawan (Master).

He would plan instead for the second objective; saving Anakin.

There were two issues, Obi-Wan considered stroking his chin (where was his beard?!) and sighing.  The second issue was long-term – ensuring Anakin didn’t Fall, and the first step to that was dealing with the short-term issue of how to make sure Qui-Gon didn’t become Anakin’s Master.

The memories of the two Council meetings about Anakin Obi-Wan had attended (would attend?) with Qui-Gon flickered through him.  Hurt followed on their heels (fresh and old).  He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat before he closed his eyes, allowed himself to feel hurt and let the Force wrap around him for comfort.

He was allowed to feel hurt that his Master had unthinkingly pushed him aside and betrayed his promises as a Master to a Padawan – it wasn’t the first time it had happened.

The situation was fraught with sharp edges all designed to make him bleed, Obi-Wan mused grimly.  Last time, Qui-Gon’s actions and words had come from a reactive place; in this new timeline, Qui-Gon knew the Council’s position and would plan for it.  He’d seek consciously to divest himself of the responsibility of Obi-Wan’s padawanship.

What was worse – a Master who reacted thoughtlessly in the moment or one who deliberately planned?

It didn’t matter, Obi-Wan told himself briskly; the hurt he felt from being unwanted and rejected through no fault of his own, except for the small problem of his existing as Qui-Gon’s Padawan when his Master wanted to take another, was the same, regardless. 

He breathed in.  He breathed out. 

The hurt faded back to its usual level (ancient and long-accepted, but still lingering in his soul).

The easiest solution for Qui-Gon was for him to put forward Obi-Wan for Knighthood at their first Council debriefing before he even brought up the matter of Anakin’s training.

Truthfully Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why Qui-Gon hadn’t recommended him for his Trials before; he’d completed the Padawan academics years before and for the past couple of years, he’d had solo missions or had assumed sole responsibility for large parts of their joint missions.  He’d been unwilling to question it with Qui-Gon, torn between wanting to remain partnered with his Master, afraid his Master would not agree he was ready, and…

Oh.

Obi-Wan blew out a breath.

Qui-Gon was waiting for Obi-Wan to ask because asking would be the sign that he was ready; ready to be without the comfort of his Master, confident in his own skills and abilities, showing a desire to move to the next step without arrogantly assuming he was ready.  

It had been different with him and Anakin, Obi-Wan sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.  He’d believed that once Anakin stopped demanding to be Knighted was the moment Obi-Wan would know he was ready.  The memory of Anakin’s actual knighting flickered through him along with the joy and regret of it happening due to the necessity of war.

Obi-Wan breathed in.  He breathed out.  He centred himself once more.

Qui-Gon would look to shuffle Obi-Wan aside.  He accepted this.  And, in the circumstances, he wasn’t unhappy with the idea of progressing to knighthood – he was ready (he hadn’t been ready yesterday).  Perhaps he could talk with Qui-Gon about the Trials on the way back to Coruscant, providing Qui-Gon with the opportunity to nominate him truly.  It would leave them in a much better place as Master and padawan.

Unfortunately, it would also open-up the door for Qui-Gon to take Anakin…

Unless…Obi-Wan had never admitted it out loud before but he had treated Anakin rather terribly before Qui-Gon’s death.  Courteous and politely, but not warmly.  He’d avoided the boy on the journey to Coruscant because he hadn’t wanted to get involved with another of Qui-Gon’s strays when there was already Jar Jar to contend with, and on the way back to Naboo he hadn’t seen Anakin so much as he’d seen a rival who was a dangerous boy the Council did not want to train, and once again he’d been happier to avoid interacting with Anakin.

But now he could take Anakin under his wing on the journey to Coruscant which would give their relationship a much better beginning, Obi-Wan determined.  From there he could speak with the Council from a position of knowledge when his Master raised the topic of Anakin with them.

He’d suggest Anakin join the Initiates.  It would help Anakin make friends which was something he’d struggled with joining the temple as a padawan.  Anakin could then be chosen by any Master before he aged out or he could join the Service Corps if he wanted.  In hindsight, the latter would probably make Anakin happier; it was less restrictive, and he could pilot or do mechanics…

He was certain the Council would accept his proposal because for all they didn’t want to take Anakin, the truth was that he did need to be trained.

It didn’t solve the problem of Qui-Gon just insisting he train Anakin himself.

Obi-Wan sighed and set one problem teacher for Anakin aside to think of another; Palpatine.

It had horrified him once to think of how easily Palpatine had inserted himself into Anakin’s life as a mentor.  Certainly, Obi-Wan had attended many meetings with the Chancellor and Anakin together before he been reassured enough to leave them alone, but thereafter…he’d been grateful to the Chancellor for providing a respite from Anakin’s youthful exuberance.  He’d even appreciated Palpatine’s advising Anakin because in the beginning much of the advice had been beneficial in Anakin settling into the temple.

He would be able to prevent Palpatine from assuming the same mentor role, but complete avoidance might not be possible, Obi-Wan allowed.  And he couldn’t just kill Palpatine.  He had no idea when Palpatine had killed his Master, Darth Plagueis; best to wait awhile until he could be certain there was only Palpatine and his Sith acolytes to deal with.

His acolytes…

Could his wider objective to defeat the Sith mean he could save some of the acolytes?

Dooku?  Grievous?  Ventress?  Maybe even Maul…

Obi-Wan looked at his reflection contemplatively turning the question over and over in his head.

Threads and tapestry, he thought again.  Pull on too many…

Dooku was a central thread and while Obi-Wan regretted the loss of a great Jedi, in the end Dooku had made his own choices, had travelled down the path of a Sith of his own volition.

He didn’t think he could intercede with Grievous.  The Kaleesh hated the Republic  and loathed the Jedi (Obi-Wan could even concede he had justification in the much the same way he conceded Jango Fett had the same), and the opportunity to influence that was long gone.  If Dooku remained a thread, then so too did Grievous.

But Ventress…Asajj Ventress deserved a second chance to fulfil the promise her Jedi Master had seen in her; to become a Jedi Knight.  Timing was the issue again, Obi-Wan mused.  He’d be able to handwave his knowledge that Ventress was on Rattatak with the old standby of visions, but he had no idea when Ky Narec would die or when Dooku would find her.  Still…he had to try to save Ventress.

He would also try to turn Maul.  Even if the Dathomir Nightbrother would likely not surrender, Obi-Wan had to try.  And if he didn’t surrender, Maul had to absolutely die at Naboo because the havoc he’d caused (Satine dying)…Obi-Wan could not let that happen again.

A sharp rap on the door jerked Obi-Wan out of his thoughts.

He crossed over to the door and pressed the button for it to slide open.

Captain Panaka filled the doorway.  “Something’s going on with the weather.”

Obi-Wan followed Panaka out into the ship, down the narrow corridor to the ramp.  They poked their heads out tentatively.

Obi-Wan took one look at the swirling sand and nodded decisively.  “Sandstorm.  They’re typical for Tatooine, usually short-lived but they are violent.  We should batten down the hatches and put a watch on the external sensors.”

Panaka nodded back.  He was already ordering the ramp up as Obi-Wan headed back inside. 

A beep made them both pause.

Panaka looked at his watch and grimaced.  He looked up at Obi-Wan with worried eyes.  “A message from home.”

“We’d better listen to it,” Obi-Wan agreed.

The message from Sio Bibble was as he remembered it. 

Padmé’s decoy, Sabé, was playing Amidala.  She along with the other handmaidens, Rabé and Eirtaé, looked disturbed at the reports of people dying.  Panaka looked furious.

“It’s a trick to make us reply so they can establish a connection and trace us here,” Obi-Wan declared. 

He stood up and faced ‘Queen Amidala,’ tucking his hands into his sleeves and pushing out a wave of calm and reassurance into the Force.

“You would be wise to add this to the evidence package you are preparing for the Senate,” Obi-Wan continued blithely, aware that there was no evidence package being prepared.  It had shocked him to realise that the Naboo address to the Senate had lacked even a basic presentation, allowing the Trade Federation to immediately demand an investigative commission.

Panaka and Sabé exchanged a quick look.

“We have only just begun to think of such a thing,” Sabé said rallying.  “What advice would you have for us?”

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully.  “The evidence from the ship’s sensors showing the blockade will be invaluable along with any recordings R2D2 took.  You have this transmission, of course, and if you can access any past transmissions between you and the Trade Federation without enabling them to back-trace us…”

“We may have to wait on that until we’re at the Embassy apartments in Coruscant,” Panaka said.

Obi-Wan nodded understandingly.  “Of course, I’ll be happy to record testimony for the evidence package, but it may be wise to request my Master join you during the address to the Senate.  The sworn testimony of a Jedi Master is no small thing.”  He hesitated visibly, baiting the ‘Queen.’

“You have additional concerns, Padawan Kenobi?” asked Sabé.

“Even with the evidence and the testimony, I fear the Senate will be slow to act,” Obi-Wan tempered his bluntness with a diplomatic tone.  “The evidence will ensure the Trade Federation is censured, but actively helping you deter the invasion and save your people may need more substantive action than the Senate can authorise without further investigations.  It may be wise to start thinking of a contingency plan.”

“We will consider your words carefully,” Sabé said as Amidala.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I must inform my Master of the transmission.  If you’ll excuse me…” he bowed to her and departed the Queen’s room.

It was remarkable just how much space the ship had, Obi-Wan mused.  It looked very small from the outside.

He entered the cockpit, waving to the pilot before sliding into a seat to call Qui-Gon.  It was their first communication, Obi-Wan noted.  Qui-Gon must have definitely decided against calling to check if there was anything of value on the ship as he had done previously. 

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon’s tone was even with only a hint of a question.

Obi-Wan provided the report of the transmission.  “If the report of people dying is true, we will need to accelerate our efforts in getting the Queen to Coruscant,” he concluded.

“We are running out of time,” Qui-Gon agreed.  “I believe we have a way to get the parts we need, but it will mean waiting until late tomorrow for us to repair the ship and depart.”

“I will inform the Queen,” Obi-Wan said.  “You have somewhere to wait out the sandstorm, I presume?”

“We are sheltering with some locals.  I’ll check in with you later, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said.  “Remain vigilant.”

The connection ended and Obi-Wan sat back in the chair for a moment.  It sounded very much like Qui-Gon’s visit to Mos Espa was going very similarly to his first.  Obi-Wan pressed his lips together.  He hoped his Master would dismiss any differences in their exchange to random variance.

He slid out of the chair.  He would inform the Queen, and then he would find someone to spar with.  He should stay busy until Qui-Gon contacted him again.

o-O-o

“I need you to analyse this blood sample.”

Obi-Wan almost smiled as he started to run the data.

There had been no comm from Qui-Gon after the sandstorm had passed to let him know of the pod racing plan, but then Obi-Wan figured Qui-Gon had felt the previous comm had covered what Obi-Wan needed to know.  Obi-Wan had bet himself a trip to Dex’s diner that Qui-Gon would still request the blood analysis.  

He figured Qui-Gon had realised he needed a more substantive reason for freeing Anakin and bringing him back to the temple than Anakin’s Force-enhanced pod racing ability and help with the mission.  As though he’d read Obi-Wan’s mind, Qui-Gon predictably informed him that he needed the midichlorian reading.

“Hmmm,” Obi-Wan said.  “The sample is from a human boy, biological sex presenting as male, approximate age of…of nine?  Does that sound right?”

“Just the midichlorians, Padawan,” Qui-Gon chided him.

“You’re not interested in knowing he has the gene for Force sensitivity from both his parents?” teased Obi-Wan slyly.

“He has been raised without a father,” Qui-Gon rejoined sharply.  “Now, if you would focus on my request, Padawan…”

“Right,” Obi-Wan registered the warning note in his Master’s voice easily enough, “well, the sample may be contaminated because this reading cannot be correct.”

“What do you mean?” questioned Qui-Gon, missing any kind of surprise in his response.

“It’s showing a reading over twenty thousand,” Obi-Wan said.  “Master Yoda doesn’t even have a reading that high.”

“The boy is strong in the Force,” Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan latched onto the opening Qui-Gon had offered him.  “I didn’t realise we were searching for Force sensitive children as well as parts for the ship.”

“He is destined to be a Jedi Knight,” Qui-Gon said firmly.  “I’m sure of it.”

Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon thought this conversation was warning enough for Obi-Wan of what was to come.  “You know the Council will say he’s too old.”

“The Council will see he needs to be trained,” Qui-Gon rejoined.

“Well, I guess I should look forward to witnessing another rousing debate in the Council chambers,” Obi-Wan said after a beat.

He could imagine Qui-Gon rolling his eyes.  “Get some rest, Padawan.  Tomorrow will be busy once we have the parts for the repairs.”

The connection ended.

Obi-Wan sighed and stared out of the cockpit window into the darkness of the Tatooine night. 

Panaka sat in the chair next to him and offered him a bottle.

Obi-Wan took it with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mudda brew from our Northern province,” Panaka explained.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said.  He hadn’t been offered a drink the last time and he wondered what had made the difference.  Maybe because he’d spent the afternoon sparring with the guards and teaching the handmaidens some self-defence rather than pottering about the ship?

“We owe you our thanks,” Panaka said.  “We didn’t realise we would need an evidence package for the Senate.”

Ah.

Panaka raised his bottle.  “Your advice and help today has been invaluable.”

“The Jedi live to serve,” Obi-Wan responded.

Panaka gave a quiet laugh but accepted the deflection.  “Tell me, is your Master always so…” he waved his hands around to provide a description in lieu of words.

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched.  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Panaka sighed.  “Is that the reason why your Master hasn’t allowed Padmé to communicate with the Queen?”

“She doesn’t have her own commlink?” checked Obi-Wan a little taken aback that the Captain would have allowed the actual Queen to ramble around Tatooine without some way to communicate with him.

“No,” Panaka shook his head, “she said she would use Master Jinn’s.”

Obi-Wan thumbed over the open lip of the bottle.  “Well, my Master may not have realised that.”

“Or?” prompted Panaka.

“Or he has not offered her access to his because he wishes to control information,” Obi-Wan conceded.    

Panaka sipped his beer.  “I get the impression your Master prefers to do the latter.”

“Information flow can be vital to living or dying on some missions,” Obi-Wan took a sip of his own beer.

Panaka accepted his point.  “Tell me, do you honestly think the Senate will help us?”

Obi-Wan drank again as he gathered his response together.  “The Senate is made up of many different Senators,” he began, “many of them have had aggressive dealings with the Trade Federation since they’ve risen to a position of power.  They will be the most sympathetic to your petition and they will want to help.”

“But…”

“But,” repeated Obi-Wan, “the Senate as a whole is a lumbering beast which is slow to act, at best because of the bureaucracy which chains its feet to the floor, and at worst because of the corruption and rot within its belly.” He smiled in what he aimed to be youthful mischievousness.  “Of course as a Jedi I cannot possibly comment on the state of the Senate.”

“I fear if the Senate cannot help us, our contingency plan is either giving into their demands in order to protect our people or war,” Panaka admitted.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “It’s not an easy choice for a young Queen to make.”

“She’ll want to fight,” Panaka stared down at the bottle in his hands. 

“She seems the sort,” Obi-Wan said dryly, remembering the young woman who had climbed atop a pillar in the middle of an execution arena.

Panaka gave a short laugh.  “She’s so young.  They all are.  I never wanted them to know real violence.”

Obi-Wan took another gulp of his drink.  “When I was thirteen, I helped children on a planet fight for peace in what seemed like a never-ending civil war.  It was hard.  I had young children die in my arms from wounds inflicted by the adults on the planet.  We bled for every win, every step which would end the war.  There was a loss of innocence that nobody could regain.”

“If you were intending to be reassuring, you failed somewhere between the death of children and the loss of innocence,” Panaka commented, his own horror at Obi-Wan’s words lurking in his tone.

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “You’re right to fear for them, but they can survive it.”

“The children you fought with?”

“They’re at peace now and they value it all the more for having fought for it,” Obi-Wan confirmed.  “But your people and your Queen will face horrors and you cannot protect them from them.  It would be better to be brutal about the possible consequences up front than try to obfuscate the true nature of fighting a war.”

Panaka nodded.  “More sage advice.”

“My final piece of advice?” said Obi-Wan brightly. “We should get some sleep.”

Panaka laughed.  “Good advice, my friend.”  He stood up and patted Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he walked past towards the door.

Sleep.

He should get some of that.  It had been a long day, travelling back in time, merging his two selves, reliving the past and planning for a future which had once been static and written…

Tomorrow he would meet Anakin again (for the first time).

Obi-Wan cast one last look out into the desert and went in search of his bed.

o-O-o

“I have to return the eopies and retrieve the boy who assisted us from his mother,” Qui-Gon announced.

Obi-Wan frowned heavily.  The Force stirred unhappily in agreement with him.  He had thought Qui-Gon would have brought Anakin back with the parts and avoided the attack from Maul.  Or maybe he thought he had to face Maul in Tatooine in order to convince the Council of the danger enough that they’d be sent back to Naboo.

Maybe.

Obi-Wan’s preference would have been to avoid Maul for as long as possible.  He sighed.  “Does the boy have a name?”

Qui-Gon looked at him, surprised into answering.  “Anakin Skywalker.”

“His mother is happy to release him into the care of the Jedi?” checked Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon nodded.  “Ensure the repairs are carried out with haste, Padawan.  I wish to leave as soon as I return.”

“It will be done, Master,” Obi-Wan agreed.  He wondered whether he had been so autocratic with Anakin and feared he had (he had).

He waited a moment for Qui-Gon to swing the eopie around and nudge it back in the direction of Mos Espa before he turned on his heel and made for the ship.  The repairs did need to be done.

He focused on the hyperdrive and left the minor systems to a few pilots who claimed they could sort those.  It was a shame they hadn’t rescued an engineer at the same time as the pilots and guards, Obi-Wan mused as he tightened the fastenings on the bought drive.

R2D2 beeped at him, a hint of impatience in the tone of the beeps. 

He really had to brush up on his binary, Obi-Wan determined, even though he got the gist.  “Yes, R2.  It’s ready for the diagnostic now.”

R2 inserted his cable into a port on the side of the drive and beeped to confirm the diagnostic was running.

Obi-Wan sat down on the bench that circled the wall of the room and waited.  He’d go up to the cockpit to check on the other repairs and then…

And then Qui-Gon should be back.  There would be a short fight with Maul and they’d be on their way back to Coruscant.

He rolled his shoulders to eke out some of the tension which had settled in.  A noise by the door had him turning to look sharply in that direction; Padmé stood in the entryway, redressed in the typical orange robes of the handmaidens.

“My lady,” Obi-Wan got to his feet and bowed.  “How may I assist you?”

Padmé waved him back into his seat and sat beside him a respectable distance between them.  “Our Queen wishes to thank you for your advice and support.”

“The thanks are appreciated, but like all Jedi, I live to serve,” Obi-Wan inclined his head.

“I’m certain you are not like all Jedi,” Padmé said firmly.  “Master Jinn is distinctly different in his approach.  While we were ultimately successful in acquiring the parts, I do not agree at all that gambling and allowing a child to pod race are acceptable means to the end.”

Frustration hummed through her very presence in the Force.

Obi-Wan swallowed the urge to chuckle.

Padmé deflated suddenly.  “My apologies,” she said somewhat stiffly, “my comment was inappropriate.”

“It would not be the first time my Master has elicited such a reaction,” Obi-Wan said wryly.  “He is known as a maverick for a reason.”

Padmé’s expression eased a touch.  “He is very certain of himself.”

Obi-Wan studied her disgruntlement for a moment.  “What do you know about the Force and the Jedi?”

Padmé looked at him, a spark of curiosity flickering over her delicate features.  “Only what is commonly known; the Force is a source of energy and you are a Force sensitive Order who work alongside the Senate to protect the Republic.” She hesitated before continuing.  “Beyond that, I am not sure what is myth and what is fact.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head in understanding.  “The Force flows through everything in the galaxy; it is the common bond surrounding us and within us.  There is a science to the Force alongside its mysticism, but ultimately one thing holds true: anyone with Force sensitivity is able to consciously or subconsciously access the Force to direct or misdirect, to see and understand connections, or to enhance a skill or ability.”

“Such as pod racing?” questioned Padmé brightly.  There was a note of comprehension in her expression that Obi-Wan knew related to Anakin.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and nodded.  “Exactly.”  He stroked his chin and missed his beard once more.  “The Jedi are strong in the Force meaning we are sensitive enough to consciously use it. The Order trains us to use it ethically and in the service of others rather than for our own gain.  The Jedi Order is bound by law to protect the Republic and therefore much of our political, martial and diplomatic activity is directed by the Senate; in that your training is true.”

Padmé returned his offered smile.

“Individually, how we access and use the Force can be different,” Obi-Wan continued, trying to ensure his tone did not stray into lecturing.  “Some Jedi are better at directing objects or misdirecting senses of other sentients.  Some are better at enhancing speed or a particular skill compared to another.  Some are better at seeing connections whether through visions or touch or in the moment, knowing if a decision is made here, an action over there will follow.”

“I was right then; not all Jedi are the same,” Padmé teased lightly.

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan agreed with a chuckle, “and my Master is very experienced and skilled in seeing Force connections in the here and now.  It can appear to others that he is…arrogant or inflexible in his decisions because his trust in the Force is absolute once he has felt that connection, even if in some cases he may only have barely sensed something, or he cannot truly articulate the detail of what he has sensed.”

“Or in some cases he is not inclined to articulate it,” Padmé countered.

Obi-Wan accepted her criticism with a quirk of a smile.  “You should also keep in mind, my lady, that often the Jedi are looked to for leadership in a crisis or dangerous situation.  For a Jedi to appear uncertain or to admit confusion may unsettle people in situations where trust in the Jedi is paramount.”

Padmé huffed out a breath, but the lines on her face had disappeared with Obi-Wan’s explanation.  “I still do not agree with your Master’s methods,” she said, “but with your explanations I have more understanding of why he acted the way he did.”  She smiled at him.  “We offer our thanks to you once more.”

Obi-Wan smiled back.  “I would be grateful in return for any information you could share on Anakin?  I understand my Master has gone to retrieve him and intends for us to take him to the temple at Coruscant.”

Padmé’s face lit up.  “Oh, Anakin is just adorable,” she gushed happily.  “He’s a very sweet boy.  Brave.”  She gestured at the hyperdrive.  “He risked his life in the pod race to help us.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t know how his mother found the courage to let him race; it was terrifying to watch.”  She bit her lip.  “For all I don’t agree with what Master Jinn did, I am glad Anakin is free.”

“Free?” Obi-Wan jumped on the word, grateful she had provided him with the opportunity he needed without him pretending Qui-Gon had already told him.  “He was a slave?”

“Yes, he and his mother,” Padmé said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice.  “They are good people.”

“Many slaves are,” Obi-Wan agreed.  He made a show of sighing.  “It will be a difficult transition for him, especially with his mother still enslaved.”

“Is there nothing the Jedi can do?” asked Padmé.

“Unfortunately, we lack the resources and mandate to free her without censure, but…” he looked at her pointedly.  “If the Queen is grateful to Anakin, once the situation with the blockade is resolved, returning to provide his mother with the money to free herself would be an appropriate gift, I think.”

Padmé flushed, but she nodded quickly.  “It is a good suggestion.  I will advise the Queen to make it so.”

Obi-Wan nodded, satisfied.

R2 beeped as he retracted the cable.  He swivelled around and beeped some more.

Obi-Wan rose.  “The hyperdrive is fixed.  I should check on the other repairs.  It should not be much longer before my Master returns and we can leave.”

Padmé gracefully got to her feet.  “I will inform our Queen.”  She nodded at Obi-Wan.  “Thank you again.”

Obi-Wan bowed and departed the engine room, R2 on his heels.  They made for the cockpit where R2 hooked himself into another panel.

The pilot, Ric, nodded an acknowledgement as Obi-Wan slid into a chair.  “I’m going to run through the flight checks if you’d like to assist, Obi-Wan.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan agreed cheerfully.

The Force was beginning to hum a warning and Obi-Wan found it difficult to focus on his task.

:Padawan, Anakin is struggling with the walk and I am weary; come and assist us:

Obi-Wan froze momentarily at the mental command from Qui-Gon, but immediately shrugged away his stillness, leaping to his feet.  “My Master bids me to attend him,” he explained, tapping the side of his head in explanation. “Once the checks are complete, get the engines started, we’ll depart as soon as we’re back aboard.”

A wide-eyed Ric nodded back. 

Qui-Gon must intend for the two of them to face Maul on Tatooine, Obi-Wan thought as he hurried through the ship and down the ramp.  Maybe Qui-Gon hoped they’d be able to defeat the Sith earlier rather than face him at all on Naboo. 

He let the Force carry him forward as he made his way swiftly over the sands.  He’d almost reached them when he saw a black figure emerge from behind a sand dune in the distance, closing fast.

“Master!” Obi-Wan called out, signalling the danger even as he ran forward.

“Duck, Anakin!” Qui-Gon yelled.

Obi-Wan had no time to enjoy seeing Anakin alive again as he leaped for the figure on the speeder bike, catching hold of Maul to wrench him to the ground.

Maul pushed him away and lit his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan dumped his cloak and lit his own sabre just in time to block the first powerful blow Maul aimed at him. 

And the next. 

And the next.

As he spun to block the fourth blow, Obi-Wan glanced across the sand and saw Qui-Gon running towards the ship, carrying Anakin.

Focus, Obi-Wan remonstrated with himself.  He needed to focus on the battle with Maul.  Qui-Gon would surely return to assist him once Anakin was safe.

He leaped upward, flipping over Maul to place himself nearer to the ship, parrying another blow and knocking Maul back with a well-timed Force shove.

The ship’s engines fired behind him, a welcome sound.

Fighting Maul was familiar and the Zabrak lacked the experience and finesse of the last time Obi-Wan had faced him.  Obi-Wan took one opening to slash at Maul’s torso, leaving a thin burn behind.

Maul snarled.

The ship was moving – Obi-Wan felt its presence leave the ground and move closer to him…

Maul caught his shoulder a glancing blow, yanking Obi-Wan’s awareness back to his opponent.  He blocked another flurry of blows from Maul, flipping backwards to avoid a swing which would take his arm from him.

Obi-Wan had half a thought on the open ramp almost in jumping distance and…

Sand flew up suddenly, obscuring everything – Obi-Wan lost sight of Maul just as he supposed Maul lost sight of him.

The ramp was above him – he readied himself to leap and…

The ramp closed above him with a solid thunk.

Pain ripped through him as the Force bond he shared with Qui-Gon was torn apart, sending Obi-Wan to his knees with the sand whirling around him.

And the ship was leaving, rising into the sky and disappearing from view.

o-O-o

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes.  The sand was slowing, dying away, but Obi-Wan needed more time – he sent it flying again, creating a small pocket of stillness in the Force for himself.

The ship was gone.

His bond with Qui-Gon was gone.

He was stuck on Tatooine with a Sith apprentice who wanted to impress his Master and who would kill Obi-Wan to do it.

Those were the facts.

Obi-Wan grasped the hilt of his lightsaber, resting it gently on his forehead for a second, taking comfort in the harmonic chime of his kyber crystal.

He breathed in.

He breathed out.

He lit his saber and blocked Maul’s blow before it could decapitate him.  He Force pushed the sand in a stream at Maul, sending the Zabrak scurrying backward, scrambling to avoid being pelted.

Maul growled and directed the sand away.  He glowered at Obi-Wan.  “Your Master has abandoned you.”

“He does have a tendency to do that,” Obi-Wan said mildly.

Maul blinked in confusion.

“It’s not the first time,” Obi-Wan continued, gently sending his lightsaber through a practice swing as he spoke.  “The Sith don’t have a monopoly on Masters who make poor decisions or behave badly towards their apprentices.”

“My Master would not abandon me!” argued Maul.

“Certain of that, are you?” asked Obi-Wan solemnly.  “If you fail, will he stand by you or will he punish you?”

Maul twirled his lightsaber.  “If I fail, I deserve to be punished.”

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together at the blatant indication of brainwashing.  “You can walk away from the Sith, rescue your brothers.  It’s not too late, Maul.” He realised his mistake instantly.

With the mention of his brothers and his name, Maul’s panic and his subsequent anger at panicking grew like it was another being within the Force. 

He exploded into action.

Obi-Wan defended himself with moves he’d only mastered later in his life, moves he might have held back if Qui-Gon had been watching.  But without his time-travelling Master hovering…

Obi-Wan blocked blow after blow until Maul’s anger made the Zabrak slip, legs akimbo, and…Obi-Wan slid across the sand, between Maul’s parted legs, his lightsaber fully vertical…and sliced Maul into two vertical halves before he spun and decapitated the head from the falling parts of the body.

Blood soaked into the sand.

Obi-Wan fell back, his saber flickering off.  He sucked in one dry breath, after another.  He swiped at the sweat on his brow.

He threw out a hand and his cloak rose up from the sand and flew to him, surrounding him.  He had the hood up with a flick of his fingers, protecting himself from the afternoon suns.

It would get dark soon, Obi-Wan noted, and he would be easy prey for the Jawa, the Tuskens or worse, slavers.

He pushed all thoughts of Qui-Gon, of being abandoned on Tatooine, of being abandoned on Tatooine to fight a Sith and breathed in…

He breathed out.

He centred himself in the Force.

He needed a way off the planet.

Maul would have a ship stowed somewhere close which Obi-Wan could track down.  If he could recover the ship, he would have transport and potential evidence for Maul being a Sith to show the Council.

Obi-Wan breathed in and out.

Maul’s ship then.

How could he find it?  He vaguely remembered the speeder-bike Maul had been riding and reached out a hand.

There.

The speeder rose from a nearby sandbank where it must have crashed.  He set it on the sand in front of him.

Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and tentatively scanned the transport for traps.  There was nothing blaring an alarm.  He let out a slow breath.

Something, or rather someone gently nudged his mental shields in a familiar tap of ‘hello.’

Quinlan Vos. 

Obi-Wan had felt the presence of his friend on Tatooine when he’d set foot on the planet.  He’d politely ignored him which was mission protocol since Quin was an undercover Shadow, skilled in tracking down Sith artefacts and the Dark side of the Force.  It was only if the situation was dire that reaching out to a Shadow was allowed.  Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon would have done anything to avoid having to ask Quin for help – he didn’t like the rambunctious Kiffar and actively discouraged Obi-Wan’s friendship with him.

The mental nudge came again, a little more insistently.

Obi-Wan breathed in and replied. :Quin?:

:I felt a disturbance in the Force, you in the centre of it, and I don’t sense Jinn on planet anymore.  Do you need help?:     

It made sense that Quin would have felt the fight with Maul in the Force, being in so close proximity to it. 

Obi-Wan briefly considered continuing alone, but the Force…the Force was encouraging him to take Quin’s offer.  :If it won’t compromise you, help would be appreciated:

:Stay where you are.  I’ll be with you shortly:

A faint thread of alarm chased through Quin’s signature.  Obi-Wan rolled his eyes; he wasn’t that bad at accepting help – asking for it, yes; accepting when offered, no.  Well.  Maybe.

He sank into a meditative pose and regulated his heat and his body’s energy absently as he had done for the many years he’d lived on Tatooine.

Help.

Yoda was right about one person being insufficient to affect much change in the timeline, Obi-Wan thought tiredly.  He could only do much.  But if he had help…

Quin would be a good choice too.  It was unlikely that Obi-Wan would be able to completely keep his time-travelling from his friend because of his talent with psychometry.  Quin was a Shadow…

Actually, bringing the Shadows into it could be a good thing – eliminating the Sith was their original goal.  Perhaps not all the Shadows, Obi-Wan considered, but Master Poof had held the title Master of the Shadows on the Council.

If he could get the Shadows focused on the Sith then he could focus on Qui-Gon and Anakin.

He hummed and closed his eyes, allowing the emotions he’d held at bay since the ship had left wash over him.

The best-case scenario was that Qui-Gon had believed Obi-Wan would defeat Maul as he had in the previous timeline; the worst-case scenario was that his old Master had set up Obi-Wan to die at the hands of Maul on Tatooine, removing Obi-Wan as an obstacle to his training Anakin. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite believe Qui-Gon had truly meant to do the latter, but then he’d struggled to believe Anakin had killed younglings when he had Fallen even when he’d seen the evidence with his own eyes.

It didn’t matter in some respects, Obi-Wan thought wearily.  Qui-Gon had acted without knowledge of Obi-Wan’s own time-travelling.  His Master had gone through with a plan to leave his young padawan alone on Tatooine, facing a Sith.  Moreover, he’d torn the bond between them asunder.  Obi-Wan could feel the wound in his psyche where the bond had once lived. 

He was hurt, wounded by Qui-Gon’s actions.  How many times would Qui-Gon reject and abandon him before he stopped loving his Master, wondered Obi-Wan; perhaps this was the last time.

The sound of a speeder closing in on him had Obi-Wan tilting his head to the side and stretching out with the Force to check…

Quin.

Obi-Wan shifted, rising to his feet and stretching, suddenly aware of the strains and injuries of his fight with Maul.  He would need some medical treatment and a healing trance.

He waited patiently for the speeder to arrive.

Quinlan leaped acrobatically from it, hurrying over to him.  He was in a simple tunic and leggings combo with a sleeveless overcoat.  His dark skin gleamed like polished wood under the afternoon suns, the yellow of his facial tattoo vibrant.  His thin leather gloves looked incongruous but Obi-Wan knew they were necessary for Quin’s protection.  His psychometry gift was powerful enough that sometimes he could read objects without meaning to when he touched them.

Obi-Wan knew Quin was taking in the scene despite how swiftly he was walking across the sand.

“Obi-Wan,” Quin’s gaze ran over him before he sprang forward to hug him.  He immediately stiffened. 

Force knew what impressions he was picking up, Obi-Wan thought tiredly, pressing his face into Quin’s dreadlocks. 

“I have much to tell you, old friend, when we’re somewhere secure,” Obi-Wan said, “but I want you to know it’s so very good to see you.”

Quin squeezed him carefully, mindful of his injuries.  “I look forward to your tale, Obi-Wan.”  He took in the scene with a wave of his bare muscled arms.  “This Zabrak is the Darkness I felt?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, “he attacked Qui-Gon when he returned to the ship.”

Quin frowned.  “So where is the old bantha-herder?”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “He left on the ship while I was fighting off the Zabrak; I assume to continue the mission.”  He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.  “He severed our Force bond.”

Quin froze into a deadly stillness, rage drifted across the Force until Quin wrestled it under control.  “He abandoned you to fight a Darksider on your own?!”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Obi-Wan said quietly.  “I do intend to make a full report to the Council.”

“Good,” Quin snapped.

“And he was more than a Darksider…I think he was a Sith,” Obi-Wan said, he force-lifted Maul’s lightsaber from the ground and took hold it, flicking it on and displaying the red blade.  He deactivated it, gesturing with the hilt to the black speeder-bike.  “That was his.  He also has a ship somewhere if we can track it down.”

“You want to take everything back to the temple?” checked Quin.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I don’t believe the Sith to be stupid, but there may be something we can learn from the ship and his belongings.”  He hesitated.  “The ship might be too much for you, but if you could stand it and you can leave Tatooine, I’d appreciate the company.”

“I’ll come with you,” Quin said decisively.  “I’m due back at the temple anyway.  I was going to hitch a ride with the smugglers I hooked up at the pod race to Corellia, but they’ll understand.”  He pulled out a commlink from his inner pocket.  There was a rapid discussion in Huttese.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose as Quin finished his call and put the commlink away.  “Did you just tell them I was a booty call?”

Quin grinned at his scandalised tone.  “A very beautiful booty call with an ass which is…”

“Yes, thank you,” Obi-Wan cut in.  He rubbed his chin.  “How do you want to do this?”

“Let’s get the body parts strapped to his bike,” Quin suggested.  He quirked an eyebrow at the four pieces of Maul strewn on the sand.  “You definitely killed him dead.”

Obi-Wan flushed.  “I just wanted to make sure…”

“It was a good call,” Quin said matter-of-factly.  “You can never be too careful with Sith.”  His eyes raked over Obi-Wan again.  “Go take a seat in the speeder; there’s a water ration in the bag in the back.”

Obi-Wan didn’t argue with him which he knew would probably send up another red flag in Quin’s head, but Obi-Wan ached physically in a way that he hadn’t for years (or since the mission to Alaro when they’d been chased by the army for a whole local week, four standard months ago).

It didn’t take long for Quin to strap the body to the speeder with spare wire he carried in his overcoat and to make his way back.

“I got a sense of direction from the bike,” Quin said shortly.  “Are you able to Force pull it behind us?”

Obi-Wan nodded and shifted so Quin could drive the speeder.  They set off and Obi-Wan grimaced as he remembered why he’d hated Quin’s driving in the past – it was almost as bad as Anakin’s.

“I may throw up,” Obi-Wan complained.

Quin shot him a wild grin.  “Hold on!” He threw them to the left, skirting well away from Mos Espa.  They drove for a while on the flat in a straight line before Quin suddenly ascended, taking them over a ridge and…there in front of them was the ship.

There was a black probe droid in front of an open ramp…

Quin leaped from the speeder, lightsaber activating as he sent himself up.

Obi-Wan cursed and dived for the steering wheel; he managed to bring the transport and the bike to a screeching stop at the same time as Quin split the droid in half and landed lightly on the ground.

“I hate you,” Obi-Wan said, glowering at the Kiffar.

Quin grinned at him.  “You love me.”

Obi-Wan climbed out of the speeder and joined Quin in scanning it.  “I’m struggling to remember why.”

They both stood in front of the ship and frowned at the dim red glow of lighting coming from inside the ship.

“I guess he had a thing for red?” Quin said slyly.  He moved up to the ship and tugged off a glove.  He placed a hand on the outside carefully.  “No booby-traps.”  He grimaced.  “It’s a new ship with the latest hyperdrive technology; this was its maiden voyage.  His Master, cloaked creepy guy kept his face hidden, gave it to him for the mission.  I’m going to guess it’s clean of any ID or helpful info too.”

“Let’s get inside and find somewhere to stow the body,” Obi-Wan said. 

It was quick work to find an ice compartment for deep storage underneath the floor in the rear.  Obi-Wan carefully wrapped the different parts of Maul in sheets he found rumpled on the bed in the small sleeping cabin and lowered them in.

He found Quin in the kitchenette stowing rations and water from the bags which had been in the back of the speeder.  Two more droids were pushed to the wall, broken and in pieces; Quin had disabled them thoroughly, Obi-Wan noted.

“We have enough food and water to get us to Coruscant,” Quin confirmed.  “Apparently Sith live on air because he had nothing stored but a nasty looking protein drink.”

“He’s a Zabrak,” Obi-Wan noted.  “They’re a predator race.  It’s likely that he prefers his food alive and raw.  The drink is probably a replacement meal.”

Quin grimaced.  “I did not need to know that.”  He gestured at the door to the cargo hold. “I brought the speeder-bike on board.”

Obi-Wan glanced at the closed ramp and frowned.  “What about your speeder?”

“No room,” Quin shrugged, “and it wasn’t exactly mine.  I stole it from a slaver and believe me, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

Obi-Wan hummed.  “The Jawa will appreciate the donation.”

Quin pointed at Obi-Wan’s shoulder.  “You want to get fixed up now or once we’re on our way?”

“On our way,” Obi-Wan replied.  The shoulder was smarting – all of his body was smarting, but he could last a little longer.

“Dibs, I’m the pilot!” Quin said, shooting past Obi-Wan to the cockpit. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and followed his friend.  He slid into the co-pilot’s seat.  It only took Quin a moment to slice in and bypass the security system.  He watched as Quin competently did a pre-flight check before he took them airborne and out into the black of space.  Quin punched in the coordinates for the hyperspace jump and the ship shot forward.

Obi-Wan breathed out.  He hadn’t realised he’d been so stressed about being on Tatooine, he thought wearily.  He looked up to find Quin regarding him with warm concern.

“Based on this we’ll make it to Coruscant in just over a standard day,” Quin whistled.  “The drive is top of the line.”

“We might beat Qui-Gon and the Naboo,” Obi-Wan said.  “The drive we installed was working, but not exactly in optimum condition.”

Quin hummed and set the autopilot.

“Right; first aid, food and then we’ll talk,” Quin stated firmly.  He winced.  “At some point, I’m going to need to send an encrypted message to Poof.”

Obi-Wan nodded and allowed himself to be prodded into care by his friend.  He revelled in spending time in Quin’s chaotic energy.  Quin had survived the order to the clones which had killed the majority of the Jedi, but he had felt Quin’s light go out in the Force a few years before his own death.

The first aid had his wound cleaned and bandaged competently; his bruises smeared with a pain relief gel.  He washed up in the tiny ‘fresher and sat down at the small bench table to eat the heated-up stew ration.  He ate mechanically, avoiding thinking too closely about the taste of it.  He smiled as Quin offered him a thin slice of dried sweet fruit cake afterwards.

“Sorry, it’s not tea,” Quin said, sliding a mug of thick caf in his direction.

Obi-Wan took it anyway with murmured gratitude, letting the drink warm him in the chill of the cabin.  He settled back on the bench, hands wrapped around the mug, and closed his eyes.

“There’s nothing more I want to do than shuffle you into a bed…”

“Oh really?” quipped Obi-Wan without opening his eyes.

“…but we do need to have the talk you promised,” concluded Quin.  “When I touched you earlier, I glimpsed a gathering of…of glowing ghosts?  You were one of them.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and glanced around the cabin.  “I think it’s better if I show you mind to mind.”

Quin shrugged.  “I trust you.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again and mentally lowered his shields to let Quin inside. 

He showed him everything – from Qui-Gon’s unexpected collapse after the course to Tatooine was set to the end of the fight with Maul and his decision to ask for help from Quin and others.  At the end, he shared images – of the clones and war, a single one of the temple burning, the banners of the Empire flying above the Senate building and the Death Star as a looming threat in space.  He stopped then, but with the mental acknowledgement that there was more. 

:It’s probably better we continue talking about anything to do with the future telepathically: Quin acknowledged, his shock and horror resonating through his mental voice.

Obi-Wan sent back a pulse of agreement through the Force.

:You want to change our future, save the Jedi and defeat the Sith: Quin stated with a seriousness he’d never normally show to another person, except perhaps his old Master.

:Yes: Obi-Wan replied.

:Then if you know who Maul’s Sith Master is, why can’t we just kill him now?  Rule of Two means there is only him left:

:Sidious and his line never truly kept to the Rule of Two; Tyranus had an apprentice while he was ostensibly an apprentice himself.  Sidious has a Master, Plagueis.  I don’t know who that is – we never knew.  Despite Maul, I suspect Sidious only killed him after he secured the Chancellorship and was in a position of power enough that he didn’t need his Master any longer.  If we remove Sidious before he kills his Master, we can’t predict anything:

:You’re trying to keep control of the board:

:Yes:

:You can’t control everything, Obi-Wan:

:I know:

And he did. 

He’d thought he had things under control in his last life, only to find Anakin had been Falling for years and Obi-Wan had been blind to it.

:I just don’t want to create something worse in the place of the future I lived – and having Plagueis rather than Sidious would leave too many things unknown:

Quin’s acceptance drifted through the Force.

:Poof will help with the strategy; he’s good at that:   

Quin shifted physically, carefully placing the mug on the table and tugging on Obi-Wan until they were cuddled together on the bench.  Quin’s strong arm wrapped around Obi-Wan and pressed him against the comfort of Quin’s large body.

Obi-Wan blinked back a rush of emotion, slowly releasing the tumult of it into the Force.

“You deserve all the hugs,” Quin said out loud. :Are you finally going to report Jinn’s treatment of you to the Council?:

:I will make a full report of the mission to them: Obi-Wan deflected.

:Not good enough: Quin’s anger tinged the words, making Obi-Wan flinch.  Quin cuddled him closer in mute apology.  :If you really want to ensure he won’t train this boy he found, a full review of his treatment of you would rule against him training another padawan:

:That’s…:

:Obi, my Master wanted to report him several times during your apprenticeship.  He had conversations with Jinn about his treatment of you hoping to mitigate some of it:

Frustration leaked between them.

Obi-Wan tucked himself closer to Quin.

:Tell me truthfully; if he had done what he did today to Original Obi, would you have survived?:

It was difficult to admit it, but he couldn’t imagine how he would have defeated Maul if he had simply been Padawan Kenobi.  The shock of being abandoned, the terrifying pain of the Force bond severance…he might not have been able to push that aside to fight Maul.  And even if he had, his original skills may not have been enough to win the fight.  He’d known his first defeat of Maul had been aided by a not insignificant amount of luck.

:No:

:Then will you let me make a complaint?:

Any Knight or Master could request a review of another if they suspected or knew of abusive or criminal behaviour.  Quin making the complaint and demanding a formal review of Obi-Wan’s padawanship would likely work to stymie Qui-Gon’s plans with Anakin, at least in the short term.

Sorrow filled him.  For Qui-Gon.  For himself.  He knew the review, if properly conducted, could only find Qui-Gon guilty of abuse and neglect in several instances.  They’d find a good Master in parts too, but only the Council could determine whether the good outweighed the bad.  At the very least, the complaint would create a wedge between him and his Master if Obi-Wan was brutally honest about his experience.

Which he would have to be if he truly wanted to disrupt Qui-Gon’s plan to train Anakin. 

He sighed.

“I love him,” Obi-Wan said aloud.

“You can love him and still know what he has done to you is unacceptable,” Quin said.  “This isn’t a betrayal on your part.”

“You’ll report him,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Quin pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead.  “Leave it with me, d’anshari.”

First love.

“You haven’t called me that in years,” Obi-Wan murmured. 

Not since Qui-Gon had demanded that they break of their teenage romantic entanglement to prove Obi-Wan was not attached.  Quin had vociferously disagreed, pointing out the hypocrisy since Qui-Gon had been entangled with Tahl for years before her death.  Obi-Wan had known though that it was exactly because of his relationship with Tahl that Qui-Gon had made the demand; his Master had almost Fallen when Tahl had died and Qui-Gon had needed Obi-Wan to be free of the temptation.   

Obi-Wan had loved Quin, but he’d been too afraid Qui-Gon would repudiate him and too caught up in wanting to be the perfect Jedi to stand-up for his relationship.  Quin had deserved better.

“You will always be d’anshari,” Quin said firmly.

“I love you too, Quin,” Obi-Wan yawned suddenly.  Weariness tugged at him. 

“Sleep, Obi-Wan,” Quin soothed him.  “You’ve defeated a Sith, you should sleep.”

And so he did.

o-O-o

Coruscant looked like the bustling metropolis of Obi-Wan’s memories.  He had sometimes tried to recreate the image of it in his meditations on Tatooine, but he’d never succeeded in getting past the last image he’d had of the place – of the burning temple with so many dead within its walls, of the dread and the darkness that blanketed the planet in the wake of the Jedi’s defeat.

Quin glanced over to him as they made their final approach to the temple landing pad.  Obi-Wan had woken to find Quin had made all the arrangements with Master Poof while Obi-Wan had slept.  He was gratefully relieved.  While Quin had reported the Sith, he hadn’t told Poof about the time travel only that Obi-Wan would need to speak to him about a matter for the Shadows of utmost importance in confidence. It had netted Obi-Wan a private interview with Poof that Obi-Wan might not have been able to secure on his own.

He blinked back tears at the feel of so many Jedi so close by (he’d felt them only a few days before when his Master and he had been given the mission to Naboo).

He breathed in.

He breathed out.

He let the feel of the Jedi, of his friends (family) settle back into his bones; into his spirit. 

Quin landed the ship surprisingly lightly with only the faintest bump and navigated it into the waiting hangar.

Poof and Mace Windu stood at the end of the hangar, the very picture of patient Jedi Masters.

Quin patted his arm.  “Come on.”  He snagged a bag he’d packed earlier on his way out.

Obi-Wan followed Quin.  He tucked his hands into the deep sleeves of his cloak, clutching his own arms to ground himself as they walked the short distance towards the two Masters.  He bowed deeply to them. 

“Be welcome, Padawan,” Poof said calmly, dipping his long neck which reminded Obi-Wan of the Kaminoans.  “Knight Vos.” 

Mace raised one thin eyebrow.  “The Council awaits your immediate report, Padawan Kenobi, especially as we have yet to hear from your Master.  Knight Vos will accompany you.”  He paused.  “I understand you asked to speak with Master Poof in his role as Master of Shadows alone.  I would like to join you.”

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Mace onside, Obi-Wan considered.  He was the Master of the Order.  He was also very aware that for Mace to ask was unusual; he could have just invited himself along.

Obi-Wan inclined his head.  “When will we meet?”

“Immediately following the Council unless you need the Healers more urgently,” Poof said.  His red eyes scanned over Obi-Wan.

Obi Wan shook his head.  “I’ll be fine, Master.  What of the ship and the, uh, body?”

“Our investigators will take over the examination of the vessel and its contents,” Poof confirmed, gesturing at the group of Shadows and droids who immediately descended on the ship. He turned to Quin.  “You have the lightsaber the being used?”

Quin raised the small bag he carried.  “It’s here.”

“Let us make our way,” Poof said. 

They traversed the temple in silence.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was taut with tension and words they all knew could not be spoken out loud.

Obi-Wan almost sighed in relief as they reached the Chamber.  The full Council had been called and Obi-Wan ran his eyes over the assembly of Jedi almost reverently.  With the exception of Yoda, they had all perished either in missions, the war or in the purge – most at the machinations of the Sith for certain.

“Good it is to see you, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said, beginning the meeting.  “Sad to hear of the attack upon you, we were.”

“In the absence of Master Jinn, please provide a full report, Padawan,” Mace instructed as he took his seat with a flourish of his robes.

Obi-Wan took a breath and crisply reported the events of the mission.  He felt the Council’s worry escalate at the news the Trade Federation had tried to assassinate himself and Qui-Gon, at the invasion of Naboo they had witnessed, and the escape to Tatooine.

Mace held up a hand.  “You said Jinn collapsed after the disturbance in the Force?”

“For an hour,” Obi-Wan said.  “The medical droid could not ascertain what was wrong and our bond was silent.  Once he woke up, he claimed that he felt fine and would not hear of resting.”

“Felt this disturbance, we did,” Yoda sighed, his ears flapping lightly.  “Not affected as badly, we were.”

“Which suggests that the disturbance may have centred on Master Jinn,” Adi Gallia spoke up. 

Yoda inclined his head.

“Continue, Padawan,” Mace ordered briskly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and reported the Tatooine events, subtly drawing attention to Qui-Gon’s focus on Anakin by recounting the request for the blood analysis. 

Mace held up his hand again.  “This slave boy…your Master acquired his blood for analysis with the mother’s permission?”

“I assume so since Anakin is returning with Master Jinn to Coruscant apparently with his mother’s blessing,” Obi-Wan said evenly.  “However, I was not present and my Master only requested the analysis; he gave no further details.”

Mace steepled his fingers in front of him.  “You say the readings showed a high level of midichlorians?”

“Over twenty thousand,” Obi-Wan said.

“Preposterous!” proclaimed Oppo Rancisis.  He huffed.  “The analysis was wrong.”

“I suggested that the blood was contaminated in some way to give a false reading when I saw it,” Obi-Wan allowed. “However, from the little I encountered of Anakin personally, I can say he is strong in the Force.”

Plo Koon tilted his scaly head speculatively.  “Your Master intends to bring the boy before the Council for permission to be trained to be a Jedi?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

“And your view?” asked Plo.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath.  “I believe if the boy is strong in the Force, he should be trained to learn control.  As a child born in slavery, he will have emotional and spiritual wounds which will only benefit from our healing.  He will have known his mother as a source of love and comfort to him and she is no longer in his life.  I would have him join our Initiates and learn our ways to determine if the path of a Jedi is his choice once he is used to his freedom.  If he chooses so, then let him be eligible like any Initiate to be taken as a padawan or to move to the path of the Service Corps.”

“Dangerous to train him, it may be,” Yoda objected.  “Too old, he is.”

“We have our rules because time has taught us how to ensure the best outcome in training with the limited resources we have, but I’d like to believe we would not turn away someone who needs training and support due to rules alone.”

Obi-Wan paused, allowing his gaze to travel around the Council members, happy to see some of them already nodding. 

“Do we not have a duty?  To leave someone in need is not the way of the Jedi, and Anakin is in need.  I would argue he would only be more dangerous if left without guidance or healing.” He continued.  “We cannot allow possible futures determine what is best for Anakin today.  After all, the future is always in motion.”

Yoda harrumphed as other members of the Council chuckled.  He pointed a finger at Obi-Wan.  “Use my own words, you do.”

“We seem to have gotten side-tracked,” Mace interjected. “My own fault, but I believe we should table the topic of the boy until Master Jinn presents him.”

The rest of the Council acquiesced.

Obi-Wan picked up his report, detailing Qui-Gon’s return the next day with the parts.  He included a brief summary of his exchange with Padmé, enough to convey her disquiet with the methods used to obtain the money and to free Anakin.  His voice caught in his throat as he began to describe the moment Qui-Gon had requested his presence and…he stopped and took a breath.

“On my way to help my Master, I noted an approaching speeder-bike,” Obi-Wan reported crisply.  “The Force provided a warning of imminent attack, I moved to intercept the being – it was a Zabrak but with an unusual red colouring.”

“Dathomir Zabraks have such colouring,” Eeth Koth interjected.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “He had a lightsabre and we engaged in a duel.”  He motioned at Quin who carefully brought out the hilt from the bag with his gloved hands.  Quin handed it to him and Obi-Wan flicked on the red blade for a long moment.  He flicked it back off.

“Where was your Master in this fight?” asked Adi tersely.

“I caught sight of him carrying Anakin to the safety of the ship,” Obi-Wan said.  “I realised the ship was rising with the ramp still down and coming closer, I believed a plan had been made to allow me to jump up to the ship except…”

“Except?” prompted Eeth impatiently.

“Except before I could jump, a localised sandstorm appeared between the Zabrak and myself obscuring our vision, the ramp closed suddenly and…and my bond with my Master was severed.” Obi-Wan took another deliberate breath as he let that sink into the Council’s minds.  “The ship departed.  I was left behind to fight my assailant.  It was a difficult fight, but I prevailed when he slipped on the sand and gave me an opening.”

“Say severed your bond is.  Examine you, Padawan, may I?” Yoda asked gently.

Obi-Wan knelt as Yoda walked over to him and laid a hand on his forehead.  Obi-Wan felt Yoda’s presence nudge his own and he lowered his shields to show him the wound left behind from the bond’s removal.

Yoda hummed.

Healing warmth spread over the ruptured area and eased the ache.

Obi-Wan almost gasped.  He hadn’t realised how much pain he’d been in.  “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

“To the healers you will go, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said firmly.  He dropped his hand and returned to his seat.  “Deliberate this was, by his Master it was done.  An accident, it was not.”

The condemnation of Qui-Gon was evident in his disappointed and angry tone.

“A formal review of Master Jinn must be made,” Koon said.  “To sever a bond in such a way and to abandon his padawan, even one as competent as Padawan Kenobi, to a fight with a dangerous adversary wielding a red-bladed lightsabre…these are not the acts of a Jedi Master.”

“I agree,” Poof said, speaking up in his melodic voice.  “Even allowing that he had to get the boy safely to the ship, a true Master would have returned to help his padawan.” He looked sharply at Obi-Wan.  “This is not the first time your Master has demonstrated a lack of care in your well-being.  I am ordering a full review of your padawanship.”

Obi-Wan’s lips tightened.  He hadn’t expected Poof to be the one to request it and his sharp look towards Quin had the Knight avoiding his gaze in a way which confessed he’d known ahead of time that Poof would do it.

Mace cleared his throat.  “A full review of Master Jinn and his training of Padawan Kenobi will take place.” He shot a look at Quin.  “Knight Vos, what is your role in this?”

“I was on Tatooine as part of an ongoing assignment,” Quin said bluntly.  “I’d registered Padawan Kenobi and Master Jinn’s presence in the Force when they came planet-side.  As per protocols, neither approached me although I’m sure Master Jinn spotted me when he was in Mos Espa.”

“Master Jinn saw you and he didn’t approach you for aid despite his lack of viable funds?” asked Eeth sharply.

Quin nodded.  “Perhaps if the pod race had not provided an opportunity, he would have found me.”

Poof inclined his head in an elegant swoop.  “On this, Master Jinn was correct to avoid an active Shadow if at all possible.”

“My mission was finished and I was making preparations to leave Tatooine when I felt the fight in the Force and a darkness,” Quin continued.  “Once it was over, I sensed Obi-Wan, uh Padawan Kenobi’s presence and the absence of Master Jinn.  I nudged him mentally to see if he needed aid and when he replied in the positive, I made my way to him.”

“Wise to accept help, it was,” Yoda proclaimed with an approving ear flap in Obi-Wan’s direction. 

He inclined his head. 

“I was able to track to the ship,” Quin concluded, “and we made our departure from Tatooine after stowing the body and bike.  I made an encrypted call to Master Poof to inform him briefly of the suspicion the assailant Padawan Kenobi had faced was a Sith,” he ignored a haughty sniff of disbelief from Rancesis, “and to make arrangements for our arrival.”

“Thank you we do for the aid you rendered,” Yoda said.

“You performed well, Knight Vos,” Poof complimented him lightly.

Obi-Wan noted the pleased flushed on Quinn’s face with a touch of amusement.

Mace gazed at Obi-Wan thoughtfully.  “Your actions in this mission are to be commended too, Padawan.  You kept your head under duress and whether this Zabrak is a Sith or not, your defeat of him in defence of your life was well done.”

“Thank you, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan said.  “Will you require me to submit my written mission report via Master Jinn as usual or directly to the Council?”

A flutter of surprise from the Council members ran through the Force.

“Do you mean to say you’ve submitted mission reports via Jinn previously?” Adi asked.

“Yes, and a copy to the Archives, of course,” Obi-Wan allowed a note of confusion to enter his voice.  “Am I to understand you did not receive them from him?  I’ve written a report for every mission we’ve undertaken.”

“Concerning this is,” noted Master Yaddle.  Her ears were twitching unhappily.  She was an Archivist and the knowledge that reports had not been shared was horrifying to her.

“Submit this mission report to us.  The matter of the rest of your reports should be investigated as part of the review,” Mace declared.  “Master Koon, may I ask you to conduct the review and report your findings directly back to the High Council?”

Plo nodded.  “I suggest we suspend Master Jinn immediately on his return to the temple, pending the outcome of the review, and for him to have limited contact with Padawan Kenobi during this time.”

There was a chorus of agreement and Mace adjourned the meeting.  Quin darted a smug look in Obi-Wan’s direction.

Obi-Wan breathed out slowly.  The Council meeting had been constructive and useful in his plan to save Anakin.  But it was time to focus on the bigger picture; defeating the Sith and saving the Jedi.

o-O-o

“You must have something stronger than tea,” Mace stated, glaring at Poof.

Poof hummed but glided away to retrieve a bottle of lurid green liquid.

:Seaweed Liquor; don’t drink it:

Obi-Wan glanced over at Quin who was pointedly not looking at him to hide the fact he’d issued the warning.  Obi-Wan shook his head as Poof offered him a glass. 

Mace threw the shot glass back and gestured for a refill which he drank down immediately.  He set the glass down carefully on the side table next to him.

Poof returned to his own seat, poured a glass for himself and downed it briskly before setting the glass aside.

Poof’s rooms were on the bottom of the temple, adjacent to the pools.  One wall of the room was glass, a pool behind it filled with sea-life.  Poof was a Quermian, he remembered, an aquatic species which accounted for the second set of arms visible without the hiding folds of the Jedi robe.  There were pictures of the sea on the blue walls.

He, Quin and the two Masters were seated in the centre of the room.  Quin had taken the seat next to Obi-Wan on the cosy sofa while Mace and Poof occupied the chairs. 

Obi-Wan sipped his tea.  It had felt like he had been talking for hours.  He’d laid out the basics of the time travel and the past timeline; he’d set out his objectives and…and Mace’s reaction had been to seek alcohol.

“Force damn it,” Mace said in a disgusted tone, “only Qui-Gon Jinn could frip things up from the grave.”

Poof offered him the bottle again.

Mace reluctantly shook his head and pinned Obi-Wan with a sharp look.  “Why tell us?”

“Truthfully, I realised Quin would know something as soon as he touched me or my belongings,” Obi-Wan admitted.  “But I realised his knowing was not a bad thing and if we’re to succeed, more help is not necessarily a bad thing.  The purpose of the Shadows is to deal with the Sith.”

“And I invited myself along because of a shatterpoint,” Mace commented dryly.

“Your help is not unwelcome, you are the Head of the Order and your ability with shatterpoints is useful,” Obi-Wan said.  “Bringing you in seems sensible to me and to the Force otherwise I would have attempted to dissuade you from attending this meeting.”

Mace rubbed his forehead.  “You know who the Sith Master is.”

“I know who Darth Sidious is,” Obi-Wan countered.  “His Master is a mystery.”

“But the Rule of Two…”

“The only rule the Sith comply with is that to be Sith is to lie,” Poof interjected calmly.  “Darth Bane announced the Rule of Two in one breath and defied in the next.”

“Which is no doubt how the Sith survived,” Obi-Wan noted.  “As long as the Jedi believed they’d eliminated the Master and the Apprentice…”

“The rest went unnoticed,” Mace cut in, folding his arms over his chest.

Poof gave an elegant shrug.  “Yes and no.  The Shadows have always maintained that the Sith remained, although the official position of the High Council and therefore the wider Jedi Order was that the Sith were gone.”

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his chin.  “The Sith have been playing a long game, both with us and the wider galaxy.  They’ve disrupted planets and systems, weakening those like the Mandalorians who would challenge their rule, and strengthening the planets which made up the Trade Federation, such as Neimoidia.  They’ve stacked the deck and the dice.”

“How did we not notice?” asked Mace.

“The whole pod is difficult to see when your vision is filled with only fish,” Poof replied.  He lifted his uppermost hands in a plaintive gesture.  “Obi-Wan’s knowledge shows us the endgame therefore we can better understand the individual actions of the Sith which led us there.  When the Jedi fought with the Mandalorians led by Jango Fett, we did so believing Senate intelligence that he led a violent attack on that world’s citizenry.  We did not see that the Sith wanted Fett’s faction removed from the board to keep the Mandalorians in a civil war between two extremist groups.”

“Even knowing the endgame, I can only speak in detail for when and where I know my own missions as a Knight were likely Sith manoeuvres rather than true local disputes,” Obi-Wan added.  “I only sat on the High Council after the war began after the death of another councillor.”

Mace nodded in understanding.

Poof coughed.  “It is unlikely that we can influence the board in terms of planets and systems as effectively as the Sith, especially if they have a foothold in the Sith and elsewhere such as with the Trade Federation.”

“But now we know they are influencing it, we can step back and see whether the move is to their benefit or not,” Mace pointed out.  “We can take care not to let the Sith whittle us down by sending lone Knights on dangerous missions.”  He shifted in his chair.  “We can watch Sidious closely because we know who he is thanks to Obi-Wan.”

“We will need to consider that assignment with care,” Poof said firmly.  He gestured at Mace.  “The Shadows keep watchlists.  The first list is every sentient we believe has taken an unusual interest in Jedi and Sith artefacts, historical sites and temples, or research into the history and philosophy.”

“Palpatine is on that,” Obi-Wan said with a confidence born of the Force.

Poof nodded carefully.  “Although it must be noted that he has been discreet enough that we have not yet rated him as a high risk, unlike Count Dooku which brings me to the second list.  This one tracks all the Force sensitives we have discovered who are not part of an acknowledged Jedai sect, and who we suspect have dark side leanings.” He folded all four of his hands into his lap.  “The final list is a terrorist watchlist; Death Watch and Qymaen jai Sheelal are on this list.”

“So we have reason to assign a mission without having to disclose Kenobi’s time travel,” Mace nodded.  “Good.”

“We just watch them?” asked Quin.  His unease with that approach sang through the Force.

“In the matter of not allowing the Sith to enact his endgame, I fear we must be more like the turtu and less like the Haran fish, Quinlan,” Poof said.  “However, your words Mace suggest another topic we should discuss – namely who else should know of the time travel.”

“For operational security, I think we should keep the time travel knowledge to a minimum,” Mace said.  “If the Sith knew…”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “Agreed.  Towards the end…we suspected that there were spies among us.  Perhaps that hasn’t happened in an intentional way yet.”

“But gossip from the temple to a Senator who purports to be friendly would be easy to elicit,” Poof agreed.

“There may be others who will need to know in the future but for now I think keeping it to the four of us is sensible,” Obi-Wan concluded.

“Jinn knows though, doesn’t he?” asked Quin. 

“If Master Teho’s experience was indicative, Qui-Gon will have lost any memory of what happens beyond his own original death by the time he arrives on Coruscant,” Obi-Wan said.  “I can only speculate that he might retain his belief that Anakin was not served best in the original timeline without him, and he could deduce that Anakin Fell.  Otherwise…the details of the clones, the war and the rise of the Empire?  He shouldn’t remember any of that, although we should probably make sure that is the case at some point.”

“The review will be difficult for you,” Mace commented, picking his tea up.

“If it had happened last time I was a padawan, I would have been devastated and likely uncooperative,” Obi-Wan allowed.  “When we were ghosts, Qui-Gon and I discussed the issues between us.  I accepted then that his care for me in many situations was not what it should have been.  At the time, he acknowledged his own failings, whether he will again…” he shrugged.

“’When we were ghosts,’” Mace shook his head.  His eyes narrowed.  “You were on the Council.  We were colleagues then?”

“Friends,” Obi-Wan admitted.  “I was friends with many on the Council who we met with today.”

He felt a frisson of amused horror from Quin.

“You were kind to me after Qui-Gon’s death and stepped in as a sounding board where a Master would normally be for a new Knight,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Call me Mace then when we’re in private,” the Master of the Order invited warmly. 

“And you may call me Rael,” Poof said, following Mace’s example.  “The same offer goes to you, Quinlan.”

Quin spluttered a thank you.

“Right, time travel and the past timeline knowledge is restricted to us four,” Mace determined.  “Your objectives are sound, Obi-Wan.”

“I agree,” Poof said.  “The Shadows will take the lead on defeating the Sith; that is our purpose.  In light of the attack upon you by a possible Sith, nobody will be surprised when I ask for Obi-Wan to be assigned to me.”

“I’m not a Knight,” Obi-Wan said, taken aback.

Mace smiled sharply.  “You will be by tomorrow sunset.”

Quin grinned at him.

“What about my Trials?” asked Obi-Wan.

“It’s a question for the Council whether they wish you to undergo them, but the fight with the Sith is enough for me to argue for your Knighthood,” Mace said.

Obi-Wan nodded slowly.  He guessed they’d made the same decision last time.

Quin poked him.  “Guess we’ll be working together more.”

“I may regret this,” Obi-Wan teased.      

Mace chuckled at them and set his tea down.

“As the Master of the Order, Mace, you will have to take lead on the other side of the objective,” Poof said. “It is not enough to defeat the Sith, we must also save the Jedi.”

Mace sighed grumpily.  “I think you’ve gotten the better part of the deal.”

Poof smiled.

Mace threw Obi-Wan a look.  “Apart from the Sith’s machinations, what led to our downfall?”

“Arrogance in many different forms,” Obi-Wan stated.  “The Council refused to believe that the Sith returned in the aftermath of the Naboo invasion.  We made no move to guard ourselves from the possibility.  We didn’t even press the Naboo to allow us to track down Maul’s body and ‘sabre, to look for his ship.”  He shook his head.  “We’ve removed that as a possibility at least this time.”

“What else?” pressed Mace. 

“The Council was blind to the Senate slowly smothering the true purpose of the Jedi,” Obi-Wan said.  “Even now, more and more of our missions are directed from the Senate to create solutions which benefit the overall political picture rather than the people themselves, sometimes in direct opposition to what the Force is telling us.  We rarely focus on our own humanitarian efforts.  In the end, the result last time was that Jedi were only remembered for war and betrayal, and our genocide was mostly accepted without protest.”

“Dooku often complained about our increasing closeness with the Senate,” Poof noted.

“He was burned by their bad intelligence,” Mace noted.  He clasped his hands in front of him.  “But the rest of us are the frog in the pot of water.  We won’t notice someone has slowly turned the heat up until we’re boiling and dead.”

“A rather lurid analogy,” Poof chided.

“But accurate,” Obi-Wan said.  “I noticed Master Sifo-Dyas was not on the Council anymore.”

“He resigned two standard months ago,” Mace said.  “He departed Coruscant for an explore.”

“He resigned because his visions were not taken seriously, did he not?” pressed Obi-Wan.  “Master Yoda’s belief that the future is always in motion has led the Order to typically ignore Force sent visions which provide us with insight.  We teach our padawans that dreams will pass without questioning what the Force wants; why it sent us the vision.”

Mace grimaced.

Obi-Wan set his empty teacup aside, regretful he had finished it.  “Alongside the Senate distracting us from our purpose, we’ve rarely examined our own organisation and whether it works for us as effectively as it once did.  Our Knight numbers are reducing, but we still age out Initiates.  Masters refuse to take on padawans because they don’t want the responsibility.  We place too much emphasis on the path to Knighthood in the creche and not enough on being on the right path whether that is Knighthood or the Service Corps.  We’ve never stopped to consider whether our teaching and practices are outdated.  We’ve become rigid and inflexible; adhering to our rules rather than to the Force.”

“An internal review of the Jedi Order with an intent to reform,” Mace considered out loud.  “I’m uncertain how I can sell that to the rest of the Council.”

“Obi’s review should help,” Quin said, surprising the two Masters.  “It should uncover a number of issues you can use an excuse, especially in the education and training of younglings through to Knighthood.”

Mace glanced at Obi-Wan.  “I’m not going to like what Plo will find, will I?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.  He gestured to move away from the topic.  “We have to change if we’re to survive.”

Mace nodded thoughtfully.  “I’ll think more on it.” He pointed at Obi-Wan.  “You haven’t mentioned Anakin anywhere in the reasons for our downfall.”

“Everything I mentioned helped to shape Anakin as a man,” Obi-Wan sighed.  “The Council were harsh in their testing and in their refusal to train him because of the rules.  In hindsight, I think they meant the censure more for Qui-Gon for flouting the rules than Anakin himself, but the wound from those interactions with the Council stayed with him and created a distrust.”

“We should be mindful of that when we meet the boy,” Poof said.  “We should not harm a child in remonstrating with the adult.”

Obi-Wan stroked his chin.  “I made mistakes as his Master.  We had a rough beginning and it was public knowledge amongst the Jedi that Qui-Gon had thought Anakin might be the Chosen One.  I became too focused on our partnership being perfect.  I was orthodox in my teaching of the Code and the Force; I allowed for no deviation in case the Council would find fault with Anakin.”

“He made his own choices,” Quin said firmly.

“He did,” Obi-Wan said, “but he often made those choices based on his frustration with the Order and myself.  When he lost his mother, part of his rage was not at the Tuskens for killing her, but at the Jedi and I for not allowing him to see her or to talk with her, especially when his dreams of her being in trouble began.”

“I’m surprised you’re keen on us training the boy with all that in mind,” Mace said.

“He needs training,” Obi-Wan retorted.  “Our biggest mistake was allowing Palpatine to maintain a relationship with Anakin.  While we did due diligence to make sure he wasn’t a paedophile, we allowed him to groom Anakin as a Sith.  He played on every insecurity Anakin had, played up every mistake and misstep we made with him.  Anakin’s Fall didn’t happen by chance.”

“Why did you allow the relationship?” Quin asked.  “I mean, you said he wasn’t able to visit his mother, but he was able to visit the Chancellor?”

“Politics,” Obi-Wan said succinctly.  “The Council didn’t want to upset the new Chancellor.  His taking an interest in Anakin who had been instrumental in saving Naboo didn’t seem too unusual to me and at the beginning much of his advice to Anakin seemed useful and supportive.  But you’re right; if we allowed any kind of relationship outside of the Order for him, it should have been with his mother not a politician.  It was hypocrisy to allow one and not the other.”

“It sounds like we made many small mistakes each piled on top of each other until the whole collapsed,” Poof said soothingly.

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan agreed.  “After his death, Anakin took responsibility for his Fall.  He recognised that it was still his decision to swear himself to Sidious.  An easier decision maybe for the mistakes we made with him, and for the grooming Palpatine had done, but his choice all the same.”  He pressed his lips together.  “If there is one thing I am in agreement with Qui-Gon on in this time travel escapade, it’s that Anakin isn’t destined to Fall and deserves a second chance to make a different choice.”

“So, we don’t make the same mistakes,” Quin said firmly.  “We’ll work on giving him a good start at the temple, show he can trust people here, and keep Palpatine and Qui-Gon away from him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Obi-Wan said wearily, smiling at his friend.

“Quinlan, see Obi-Wan to the healers and find him a room for this evening,” Poof ordered briskly.  “You should pack up your belongings and move to new quarters tomorrow.  I will ensure they are made ready for you.”

Obi-Wan nodded at the Masters and followed Quin out into the corridor. 

Quin slung an arm around his shoulders.  “Come on, soon-to-be-Knight Kenobi.  Let’s get you to the healers and we can do a sleep over at my place.”

Obi-Wan grimaced but complied.  His body really did ache.

o-O-o

Plo Koon was one of Obi-Wan’s favourite people.  He’d been one of his dearest friends during the war.  It felt strange sitting opposite Plo at a table in Quin’s quarters to be quizzed about his padawanship.  It was early and he was grateful that he and Quin had called by his old rooms to grab spare clothing for him the night before.  He felt better sitting in fresh leggings and tunics than he had reporting to the Council in clothing he’d worn for three days straight, even if there had been sonic cleans every day on the ship.

Talking about his relationship with Qui-Gon was difficult, but Obi-Wan hoped he’d provided a balanced testimony.  He’d been brutally honest about the behaviour he’d found distressing in his Master, but he’d also highlighted Qui-Gon’s better qualities.  They’d gone back over the events on Tatooine and the more Obi-Wan thought about it, the more inclined he was to believe Qui-Gon had left him fully expecting Maul to kill him.

The part of him which would always be Qui-Gon’s Padawan felt like he was betraying his Master regardless. 

Plo turned off the holorecorder.  “Thank you, Obi-Wan, I know what was difficult for you.”

Obi-Wan sipped his water.  “What will happen now?”

“I have some investigating to do,” Plo said.  “The process by which you were assigned to Bandomeer and the AgriCorps is concerning and I want to review the decisions regarding Melida/Daan.  I was not part of the Council at the time, but I cannot countenance why the Council would have agreed to leave a child in a warzone and issue such a harsh probation penalty on your return.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I fear I may find more at fault here than simply an issue isolated to the Master,” Plo concluded, tapping the table thoughtfully.

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan demurred.  “Quin said the same thing last night.”

“It’s good you have a friend to lean on,” Plo said approvingly.  He looked at Obi-Wan.  “I would also offer myself up as a support, Padawan, if it was not a conflict of interest with this review.  I must remain impartial.”

“I understand, Master Kloon, and I thank you for the thought,” Obi-Wan said.  “Perhaps once the review is over I could call on you?”

“I would look forward to it,” Plo said.  “I will have the transcript of your testimony sent to you by the close of today.  I may have follow-up questions once I’ve had the opportunity to interview Master Jinn.”

His commlink chimed.

“Council meeting,” Plo declared with a sigh.  “I will leave you to the rest of your day, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan escorted Plo out, bowing to him as he departed.  He rested his head against the wooden door and breathed out.

He’d barely moved back to the table when the door opened again and Quin burst in waving a datapad. 

“Poofy sent me the details of your new digs,” Quin declared brightly.

Obi-Wan slapped a hand over his face.  “You cannot call him Poofy.”

“Better than calling him Rael,” Quin retorted.  “Come on.  Let’s get your stuff moved over.”

Obi-Wan acquiesced to being all but bundled down the hallways until they reached the rooms Obi-Wan shared with Qui-Gon. 

Knight Bant Eerin stood outside the door with a few boxes around her feet.

“Bant!” Obi-Wan accepted her delighted hug.  It had been years since he had seen his Mon Calamari friend (a month). 

“This menace said you were moving rooms,” Bant’s face creased with worry.  “He wouldn’t say what had happened, but you’re here and Master Qui-Gon is not and…”

“Master Qui-Gon was alive the last time I saw him, Bant,” Obi-Wan assured her, knowing after the death of her own Master where her thoughts had gone.

Relief rippled over her salmon features, her silver eyes blinking rapidly.  “That’s good news.”

“Not for some of us,” Quin muttered quietly.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and started to enter the passcode.  He opened the door and entered the rooms with a faint air of trepidation.

He breathed in and out.  He’d lived in the same rooms all of his adult life at the temple.  It seemed daunting to leave them behind.

He had a new life, Obi-Wan reminded himself.  Qui-Gon lived and so it was time for Obi-Wan to find his own home.  He led the way into his room and Quin dived at his bedside cabinet with a wicked smile.

Bant pushed a box into his body and he automatically caught hold of it.  “Why are you here without your Master?”

Obi-Wan sighed.  “He abandoned me on Tatooine when I was in the middle of a fight with a dangerous assailant.  Quin was there on another mission.  He offered me aid and helped me get back to Coruscant.  The Council heard my report and have put Qui-Gon under review.”

Bant’s eyes flashed angrily, her fins flaring.  “He abandoned you again?!” She started pushing the contents of his wardrobe into the box.  “I wish Master Tahl was alive; she would have kicked his booty hard.”

“Me too,” Obi-Wan said.  Force but he missed Master Tahl.  He carefully transferred his small collection of framed pictures.  He hadn’t had time to draw in months (years).  “Anyway, they’ve suspended him pending the outcome of the review and I’m to have minimal contact with him when he gets back.”

“Hence the room move,” Bant nodded.  She finished packing, if one could call stuffing all his clothes into a box packing and sat down on the bed. 

“Also, Obi’s likely to be a Knight before the end of the day,” Quin said, waving an old datapad and dropping it uncaringly into a box.    

“Quin!”

“What?” Quin shrugged off Obi-Wan’s exasperation with his lack of discretion.  “You know it’ll be public knowledge by sundown.”

“You’re not undergoing the Trials?” Bant asked, blatant curiosity colouring her skin in a light green flush.

“They think the mission might count.  I think they’re debating it this morning so it isn’t exactly a done deal,” Obi-Wan said dismissively.

He dipped out of the bedroom to collect his hygiene items from the shared ‘fresher.  Once they were stowed, he packed up his meditation mats.

He looked around the room. 

The only item left was an almost dead plant upon which Qui-Gon had given to him to practice the Living Force techniques; the poor thing had little chance stuck in Obi-Wan’s room and without attention and care since Obi-Wan was never there.  He crooned to the small cactus and carefully fed it some Force energy.  It brightened, its leaves turning a healthy yellow-green.  He set it on top of the pictures in his box.

Bant gaped at him.  “You just healed that plant!  When did you learn to do that?”

“I practiced while I was away,” Obi-Wan said easily.  It was the truth – from a certain point of view.

Quin almost choked trying to hide his laugh.

Obi-Wan and Bant sighed at his antics. 

Bant gestured around the room.  “Do you have anything else?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “All done.” He’d usually spent most of his time outside of the temple on missions.

Quin led the way to Obi-Wan’s new room.  It was located near to Quin’s own room, Obi-Wan noticed absently; two doors down, just around a corridor corner. 

Quin tapped in the standard passcode and shifted aside so Obi-Wan could input one of his choosing for future security.  The door opened to reveal a studio apartment.  The tiny entryway had hooks and a mirror on the wall to the right; a door to his immediate left was open to reveal the compact ‘fresher with shower, toilet and sink. 

Obi-Wan felt Bant’s impatience behind him swell and he quickly walked forward into the main space.  The room was a decent size with light flooding in from tall windows on the far left.  A kitchenette area ran along the wall that backed onto the ‘fresher and seemed to have been outfitted with the basics since Obi-Wan could see a small kettle and a couple of mugs on the bench.  A table with two chairs was located under the window. 

In front of him, a closet was located by the window, but the standard bed platform took up much of the back wall; a mattress and linens had been placed atop.  To his right, there was a two-seater sofa in a dark grey with a side table.

It reminded him a little of his place on Tatooine.  Small, but all he needed.

“Cosy,” Bant declared, approval rippling through her.  “I think I might like this better than my apartment.”

Obi-Wan smiled.  “I like it.”

They unpacked before seeking food in the refectory.  Quin left them before the end of their meal to find his padawan for a training session. 

Bant regarded him solemnly as she finished her fish and seaweed noodles.  “How are you really, Obi-Wan?  The review…it can’t be easy for you.”

Obi-Wan pushed his plate away.  “It’s not, but…” he sighed, “Quin convinced me it was necessary and then the Council pretty much determined it was going to happen anyway.”

“Jinn left you on a planet in the middle of a fight,” Bant stated, anger making her silver eyes shine again.  “He deserves to be censured.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “I know.  It’s just…”

“You love him for some bizarre reason,” Bant sighed.

“He’s not a bad man, Bant.  Tahl wouldn’t have loved him otherwise,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “He’s just that some of the time, he’s not a good Master.”

“You deserve better and…” Bant stopped as an Administrator droid stepped up to the table, the lights glinting off its bright orange square head.

“Padawan Kenobi, your presence is requested in the Council Chamber,” the droid informed him briskly.

“Right,” Obi-Wan shot Bant an apologetic smile.  “Thanks for all your help today, Bant.”

Bant waved her food-sticks.  “I’ll call in on you this evening.”

Obi-Wan slid out of the chair, picked up his tray to slide it into one of the cleaning slots, and followed the droid to the Council Chamber.

He nervously waited outside as the droid went in to announce him.  He patted down his tunic and robe, making sure they were pristine.

The droid exited, leaving the door open for Obi-Wan to enter.  He was very aware that it was the first time he’d entered alone without his Master (it was not).  He bowed to the Council members as he took up the usual position in the centre of the floor.

“Padawan Kenobi,” Mace began, “the Council has deemed your last mission will stand for your Knight Trials.  We confer upon you the rank of Knight.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head, emotion swirling through him which he carefully controlled.  “The Council honours me.  I hope to be worthy of your confidence.”

“Our honour, it is, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said.  “See your path to Knighthood, may I?”

Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.  He knelt, bowing his head.  Yoda walked over to him, lit his sabre and gently severed his braid.

Obi-Wan caught it.  It was traditional to gift it to a Master as a recognition of their teaching; he’d originally given his to Qui-Gon’s pyre.  He gently opened his hand and offered the braid to Yoda.

“May I give this into your safe-keeping, Great Grand-Master?”

Yoda took it from him with a pleased flap of ears.  “Happy am I to have you as my Great Grand-Padawan, Obi-Wan.  Treasure your braid, I will.”

Obi-Wan rose as Yoda made his way back to his chair.

“Now for the more unpleasant news,” Mace said.  “Master Poof?”

Poof inclined his head gracefully.  “Our preliminary investigation of the ship, its contents and the body confirm we are dealing with a Sith.”

There was no grumbling from the other Council members which meant they’d already discussed it.  Obi-Wan was just relieved the evidence had prevailed in proving Maul was Sith.  It ensured the full Council were aware and on board to tackle the issue.

“This attack upon your party is the first visible Sith activity we have had since their last defeat,” Poof continued.  “It is imperative we mitigate any destruction they may have already caused, disrupt their plans and defeat them once more.  You will be assigned to the taskforce I will be putting together to drive this, Knight Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in the direction of the Master of Shadows.  “I look forward to working with you, Master Poof.”

“As I do you,” Poof smiled.

Poof and Mace hadn’t wasted any time putting their plans into place, Obi-Wan realised.   

“However, we first need to deal with the Naboo conflict with the Trade Federation,” Mace interjected.  “I’d like to keep you assigned since Master Jinn will be removed pending the outcome of his review.”

Obi-Wan gave a short nod. 

“To that end, I have made contact with Chancellor Valorum and Senator Palpatine and organised a meeting for us to report the current situation,” Mace said.  “Be prepared to leave for the Senate in one hour from the speeder bay.  I’ll meet you there.”  His eyes flickered to Obi-Wan’s head.  “You may want to do something about your hair.”

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow.  The urge to sass his friend ran through his blood and Obi-Wan had to squash it down hard.  He was just-Knighted in the eyes of the Council, he reminded himself.  “Of course, Master Windu.”

He bowed and departed.  He headed straight for the temple barber and managed to get himself squeezed in citing the Council’s directive and the urgency.  His hair was cropped even shorter to eliminate the spiky style of the padawan cut, the back stub of a tail going in a brisk chop of clippers.  The end result wasn’t bad, Obi-Wan considered.  His short hair had been styled neatly, the copper curls lying flat.  He’d start growing it out and growing his beard in, Obi-Wan determined as he made for the speeder bay.

Mace waited for him in the Council bay.  Obi-Wan bowed hurriedly and he wasn’t surprised when Mace waved him into the speeder.

“You didn’t seem surprised I organised this meeting,” Mace commented as he competently steered them through the Coruscanti air traffic. 

“We need to reframe our relationship with the Senate,” Obi-Wan replied evenly.  “Creating a good relationship with the Chancellor will be paramount.”  He cast a look at Mace.  “Cultivating ties with Senator Palpatine before his ascension will give us a pre-existing relationship which we can use to further our aims while being fully in the knowledge of who and what he is.”

“Exactly,” Mace said.  “Unfortunately, political schmoozing with Senators will be necessary as we re-establish our boundaries.  We may as well get started.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “You’re also hoping to redirect Palpatine’s attention from Anakin to me.”

“Yes,” Mace didn’t bother denying it.  “If he wants a potential apprentice, who better to focus on seducing to the Dark Side than the guy who killed his last one?”

Obi-Wan hummed.  “You’re awfully confident I won’t Fall.”

“You won’t,” Mace stated.  “If you didn’t when your padawan Fell, when you lost the Jedi…I have confidence you can last out against a Sith’s manipulations.”  He waved a hand.  “Plus you’re more than capable of manipulating him in return.  It’s a win-win.”

Obi-Wan huffed out a laugh as they slid into a parking bay in front of the Senate dome.  They made their way through the Senate with ease, Mace’s natural authority sent people scurrying without any need to use the Force.

They arrived at the Chancellor’s suite of offices.

A Ki’ita was in charge of the desk.  His striped black and white complexion, long black hair and sharp purple eyes gave away his species.  “Be welcome gentle Jedi,” he greeted them with a smile filled with sharp teeth.  “The Chancellor will see you immediately.”  He led them into the Chancellor’s office.

Finis Valorum was tall, his body a straight line, not particularly served by his propensity to wear a long floor-length body tunic under his robes.  His youthful beauty was still evident in the mature lines of his face.  His hair was white and wispy which reminded Obi-Wan of how his own hair had gone in the end. 

Palpatine stood next to the Chancellor.  He was similar in height to Obi-Wan.  His wavy grey hair was swept back from his long forehead; his furrowed brow gave him the constant appearance of thoughtfulness while his face with its prominent nose reminded Obi-Wan of a squished bird.  He was dressed immaculately in elegant Naboo robes in a rich green brocade fabric. 

Mace and Obi-Wan executed perfect bows to the politicians in greeting before standing at ease with the hands tucked into the sleeves of their robes.

“Master Windu,” the Chancellor greeted him respectfully but without warmth.  His eyes flickered to Obi-Wan briefly.  “I don’t believe you’ve met the honoured Senator from the Naboo system, Sheev Palpatine.”

“I have not,” Mace agreed in the same respectful but cold tone.  He nodded to Palpatine.  “Well met, Senator.”

“Well met, indeed,” Palpatine replied with a diplomat’s smile.

“May I introduce Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Mace said, “he is here to brief you on the Jedi mission to Naboo.”

Valorum’s expression eased.  “Ah, I knew I remembered your face, Knight Kenobi.  We met at the briefing with Master Jinn.”  His brow lowered a touch in confusion.  “Are you not his padawan?”

“At the time, I was his padawan. I was Knighted earlier today, partly for reasons which I will touch upon in my briefing,” Obi-Wan replied calmly. 

“Intriguing,” Palpatine said.  “I am eager to hear your report.  We have received no news from Naboo for some days and have been unable to contact anyone in government.”

“I’m afraid all communications have been jammed by the Trade Federation in order to pressure the Naboo government into signing their treaty,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

Valorum swiftly ushered them into a small seating area.  There were already glasses of sweet akoo juice set out which Obi-Wan ignored.

Obi-Wan repeated the report he’d provided to the Council; the assassination attempt aboard the Trade Federation ship, the rescue of the royal entourage on Naboo and finally, their stop-over in Tatooine.  He concluded with Maul’s surprise attack.

“The ship departed to take the Queen and her party to safety,” Obi-Wan said, “and I was able to defeat the assailant.  Unfortunately, he would not surrender alive.”

Palpatine’s eyes flickered with anger; if Obi-Wan hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have known.

“Goodness,” Palpatine said, before Valorum could say anything.  “You must be very talented for your Master to have left you to the fight alone.”

“It is not unusual for him to do so,” Obi-Wan acknowledged, careful to drop the hint of neglect which Palpatine would see as an opening, while keeping his tone perfectly light and free of any bitterness.

“I’m sure Qui-Gon has the utmost confidence in you,” Valorum chipped in. 

Obi-Wan inclined his head.  He’d forgotten that Valorum was one of the few politicians that Qui-Gon had a friendship with.  They’d met years before on a mission when Qui-Gon had still been a padawan himself.

“You say the assailant did not allow themselves to be taken alive?” Palpatine checked.

“He did not,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

Palpatine gave a patently false grimace.  “Unfortunate then that you cannot question him.  Do you believe our Queen was his target or rather your Master?”

“It’s difficult to say,” Obi-Wan demurred.  He glanced over to Mace.

“Knight Kenobi was able to recover the high-speed transport the assailant used and his weaponry,” Mace said briskly.  “He used the transport to return to the temple.  It’s now in the hands of our investigative team along with the body of the assailant.  We hope to be able to provide answers by the time Master Jinn arrives on Coruscant with the Queen.”

Palpatine’s eyebrows rose a touch.  “And when will that be?”

“I estimate another standard day,” Obi-Wan said.  “The replacement for the damaged hyperdrive was not in the best condition in comparison to the top of the line hyperdrive in the ship which brought me.”

Valorum got to his feet, signalling the end of the meeting.  “Thank you for briefing us.  We’d best start the paperwork to allow the special petition to be heard.” He gestured at Palpatine. “Sheev, if you could stay and lend your guidance?”

“Of course, Supreme Chancellor,” Palpatine said.  “I’d be delighted.”  He turned and offered his hand to Obi-Wan.  “On behalf of the Naboo, may I offer my thanks for your efforts in keeping our Queen safe.”

Obi-Wan took the offered hand and startled a touch as Palpatine wrapped his other around it, holding him firmly.  “The Jedi live to serve, Senator.”

“I’m sure your Master will be pleased to see you alive and well after your remarkable fight,” Palpatine had not let go his hand. 

Obi-Wan allowed his buried hurt to show before evening out into his usual calm.  “Of course.”

Palpatine almost glowed with smug satisfaction as he finally let go with a gentle pat of Obi-Wan’s hand. “I will certainly be pleased to see our Queen.” He briskly shook Mace’s hand.  “My thanks to you also, Master Windu, for arranging this briefing.”

“Indeed, thank you,” the Chancellor agreed absently from behind his large ornate desk.

Obi-Wan and Mace bowed quickly and walked out of the office. 

They didn’t speak again until their speeder was back in the air.

“You know when you said you were setting me up for Palpatine to seduce me to the Dark Side, I didn’t realise the seduction would be literal,” Obi-Wan complained, shaking his hand out and wanting desperately to wash it clean.

Mace laughed all the way back to the temple.

o-O-o

Obi-Wan didn’t think he’d spent so much time in the Council chamber since he’d been a Councillor.  He cast a longing look at the fully occupied chairs because standing for a session even with the Force was tiring, especially when Master Ckis was providing the investigative report on Maul’s ship and its contents in interminable detail.

He didn’t think he’d ever heard a ship’s statistics in so much detail before.  Ckis had gotten very excited about the hyperdrive.  He’d been more excited about the ship than the lightsabre.  Poor Maul had been broken down into his biological parts and if he never again heard about a Zabrak’s liver function it would be too soon.

Beside him, Quin looked zoned out.

Ckis finally stopped talking.

Silence filled the chamber.

Poof roused himself as though suddenly realising it was his turn to speak.  “Thank you, Master Ckis, you have done your usual excellent job in examining every detail.  The Council will discuss your findings; you are excused.”

Ckis bowed dramatically and bustled out.

Yoda blinked slowly.  “Much detail, there was, but clear a Sith, it was.  Always two, there is.”

The Council’s combined disquiet flickered through the Force.

Mace lifted his datapad.  “According Ckis, we have three viable leads from the evidence.”

Poof nodded.  “The Sith came from Dathomir.  If we can trace his origins and life, we may be able to find his Master.”

“His Master may be on Coruscant,” Adi stated briskly.  “The ship navigated from Coruscant to Tatooine.”

“The ship is Nubian, top of the line, and there is no record of its purchase from any reputable shipyard,” Eeth jumped in.  “However, it was recorded docking in and out of the Senate Coruscant bay for the Trade Federation which corresponds to the travel logs in the ship’s navigation systems.”

“Senator Palpatine asked a pertinent question when we met with him yesterday,” Mace began, “namely: who was the target?”

“Unclear, it is,” Yoda sighed. 

“Knight Kenobi,” Mace gestured him and Quin forward into the centre of the room.  “What are your thoughts?”

“The fact that the ship could be aligned with the Trade Federation definitely indicates a link to the Naboo mission,” Obi-Wan offered.  “They did try and assassinate myself and Master Jinn when we met with them for negotiations, long before we came into contact with the Queen.  Maul may have been a second attempt to remove us from the situation.” 

They’d never considered the motive behind Maul’s attack the last time, Obi-Wan mused.  They’d all assumed his target was the Queen.  In retrospect, that had been short-sighted.  Perhaps Padme had been a secondary target, but Maul had focused on Qui-Gon both times.

“The Jedi testifying against them would be damaging,” Adi said.  “Remove the Jedi, remove the testimony.”

“It would also leave the Queen with poorer protection,” Eeth continued, “and more likely to bow down to their demands.”

“I doubt very much Queen Amidala would bow down,” Obi-Wan commented.  “She’s not the type.”

Poof cleared his throat.  “It is becoming clear that there is a link between the Sith and the Trade Federation which may require a more Shadow approach.  I do not want to lose sight of the Zabrak’s origins.  I’d like to send a member of the Council to Dathomir to talk with Mother Talzin to see if she is willing to share any information about the Sith.”

“Go, I will,” Yaddle said. 

“Dangerous place, Dathomir is.  Alone, you should not go,” Yoda said. 

“Revered Force sensitive females are, fine I will be.” Yaddle was almost glaring at Yoda.

“I could partner with you, Master Yaddle,” Eeth said.  “The Nightbrothers are a minority on Dathomir, I may be able to gather some intelligence as a fellow Zabrak.”

“Good argument, this is,” Yaddle agreed, “partner we will.”

“Thank you both,” Poof said calmly.

Mace nodded.  “I believe that…”

The chamber doors opened and Knight Ertay hurried in.  Obi-Wan and Quin automatically stepped back, resuming their place at the wall. 

The green Twi’lek bowed to the Masters.  “My apologies, Masters, but I’ve been sent to inform you that Master Jinn made contact a short time ago and demanded permission to land due to a Force medical emergency involving the pilot and…”

The doors to the chamber banged open. 

“…he’s on his way here!”

Ertay scuttled aside as Qui-Gon strode in, hair awry and still wearing the poncho he’d worn on Tatooine rather than his Jedi robe.  Captain Panaka followed him, along with the Queen in an elaborate black outfit, her three handmaidens just behind with a scruffy-looking Anakin. 

Obi-Wan pulled the Force around himself and Quin, muting their presence.  He briefly wondered where Jar Jar was and hoped he wasn’t wandering the temple unescorted.  He wondered if he should…

:Stay by the wall; we’ll call you forward when required:

Mace’s mental voice slid into his mind like butter.

Qui-Gon gave a short perfunctory bow.  “Masters, may I present Her Majesty Queen Amidala of Naboo.  She insisted on meeting with you immediately.”

Obi-Wan was certain it was Sabé because Padmé stood behind her with Anakin clutching onto her like a life-raft.

The Councillors all got to their feet and bowed respectfully.      

“Be welcome, you are,” Yoda said.  “Your arrival at the temple, unexpected is.”

“May we offer you and your companions seating, Your Highness?” Mace asked politely.

Sabé as Amidala shook her head.  “We have no need; please be seated.” She cleared her throat.  “Thank you for your forbearance in our unexpected arrival.  We requested an immediate audience as we need to make an official complaint concerning the actions of Master Jinn and require assurance of the treatment of our injured pilot.”

Qui-Gon folded his arms in the way he would if he wore his robe.  He maintained an even expression, but his disquiet and frustration simmered fiercely through the Force.

Quin shot Obi-Wan a wide-eyed look.

“Serious, this is,” Yoda noted.  He rested his hands atop his cane.  “Not usual it is, for us to hear complaints in this public manner.  Concerned we are for your injured pilot, know more of the circumstances of his injury we would.”

“If I could provide a short report,” Qui-Gon said forcefully, “I believe that would address both the Queen’s complaint and your request for information.”

Mace exchanged a quick look with Yoda before he turned back to the Queen.  “Is this acceptable to you, Your Highness?”

“I reserve a right to reply, but it may expedite matters,” Sabé allowed evenly, darting a look at Padmé.

“Report then, Master Jinn,” Mace declared.

The permission seemed to centre Qui-Gon.  His Force presence calmed.  

“Thank you, Master Windu,” Qui-Gon said. 

Obi-Wan settled in to listen to the report.  As anticipated, the report up until Tatooine mirrored what he could remember of Qui-Gon’s report the first time.  It was succinct but he could see Sabé shifting impatiently as they got to the events on Tatooine.

“When we arrived…”

“I beg your pardon, Master Jinn, but you are forgetting how you were rendered unconscious for a period of time during our travel to the planet,” Sabé cut in sharply.  “Our medical droid was unable to find a cause.”

“Ah, yes,” Qui-Gon looked momentarily flustered, “there was a disturbance in the Force, but I recovered.  I mean to speak with the Council about it in private as it is a Force matter.”

Sabé looked as though she wanted to argue that.

“Felt a disturbance, the Council did,” Yoda said mildly. “A Force matter, it is.”

Qui-Gon rallied, but Sabé’s glower increased with his glossed over explanation of getting the parts for the ship.

“Once again, Master Jinn leaves out critical details in his report, my handmaiden accompanied him and will explain.”

Padmé squeezed Anakin’s hand gently and drew him forward alongside her as she took a place beside Sabé.  Her accounting of events on Tatooine was damning; the mind force tricks Qui-Gon had attempted, the gambling, the danger to Anakin, the pod race and outcome.

“It was only when I returned to the ship and spoke with Master Jinn’s padawan, Obi-Wan, that I understood that Master Jinn’s unorthodox methods were because he had a connection to the Force which showed him the way,” Padmé said.  “However, while the Force may be a reason for his certainty the plan would work, I share in our Queen’s disapproval of the means by which he resolved the problem.”

“Unlike Master Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a pleasure to work with during the two days he guarded us,” Sabé said, glaring at Qui-Gon.  “He did not declare or do something without explanation.  He was polite, helpful and kind to us.”

Obi-Wan knew his face was red.  He ignored Quin grinning at him like a loon.

Qui-Gon was glaring back at the Queen.

“He saved us from the red scary guy,” the young childish voice of Anakin drew Obi-Wan’s attention back to the discussion.

“Red scary guy?” Plo prompted.

“Ah, I was coming to that,” Qui-Gon hurriedly said.  “We were attacked as I was returning to the ship with Anakin.  My padawan had come out to join us and engaged the assailant while I took Anakin to the ship.  I asked the pilot to fly over to provide Obi-Wan with an exit, but as we reached him, there was another disturbance in the Force.  The ramp closed and the pilot was compelled to have the ship leave the planet; my bond with Obi-Wan was abruptly severed.” He looked genuinely upset.  “He is one with the Force.”

“You believe your padawan to be dead?” asked Mace with a note of astonishment sounding through the words.

“Did you not feel his death in the Force?” Qui-Gon shook his head.  “He is gone.”

All the Councillors as one turned to look in Obi-Wan’s direction.

Obi-Wan stepped forward with a small bow. 

Qui-Gon’s mouth fell open and a quiet murmur of shock ran through the Naboo.

“For a ghost, Knight Kenobi looks very alive,” commented Mace dryly.

“It is a relief to see you, Obi-Wan,” Sabé said, smiling at him. 

“My apologies for any distress, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan said.  “I was able to defeat the assailant and return to Coruscant in a faster ship than your own.”

“You’re alive!” Anakin burst out and unexpectedly launched himself at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan caught the shivering boy in his arms.

“You’re alive!”  Anakin repeated, his words almost a sob as he grabbed hold of Obi-Wan, frantic.  “I dreamed of you and you saved us like I knew you would but he took me away before I could help!  And then the ship left and Mister Qui-Gon passed out like he had heat sickness!  And everything hurts inside my head because everyone is so angry and the pilot is blank like blank and…nothing feels right!” He burst into tears, sending some of the plants that decorated the chamber into the air.  “I want my Mom!”

Obi-Wan ignored everyone and everything else in the light of Anakin’s upset; he soothed Anakin automatically, hugging the crying boy closer and stroking a hand through his hair.  “It’s alright, Anakin. Everything will be fine.” 

He carefully reached out to scan Anakin’s mental state and found him completely unshielded.  He frowned.  Anakin had rudimentary shields as a child which his mother had somehow helped him build even without her memories of being a Force user, but they were in pieces.  It looked as though they’d been shattered.  Anakin had been clinging onto a thin Force bond for help…perhaps with his mother? 

Oh. 

Obi-Wan swallowed as he realised it was a bond between Anakin and himself.  Perhaps it had formed when the merger of his two selves had completed, he mused.  He hadn’t considered what time travel might do with the bonds. 

Obi-Wan cuddled Anakin closer as Padmé hovered anxiously beside him.

“He’s hardly eaten anything or slept,” she whispered, her hand coming close to touching Anakin’s back in a pat before she dropped it.

Obi-Wan adjusted Anakin to look in his eyes.  “Did your mother help you make the pain and noise in your head go away, Anakin?”

Anakin nodded, misery written all over his young face, his eyes still spilling over with tears. 

Obi-Wan brushed a hand over one damp cheek.  “May I have your permission to help you now?”

Anakin nodded frantically.  Obi-Wan kept his hand pressed to Anakin’s cheek gently.  He wrapped Anakin’s mind in gentle Force shields of his own making, buffering him from the chaos of emotions and the noise of the Force.  Anakin’s eyes fluttered closed and he sagged in his arms.  He was asleep.  Obi-Wan was faintly aware others were reaching out to guide the suddenly released plants back to safety.  He shifted to hold Anakin tighter in a carry-hold, a sleeping Anakin moving to wrap his limbs around Obi-Wan instinctively.

Obi-Wan looked up finally and met Qui-Gon’s shocked eyes.  He gave a perfunctory nod before turning to the Council.  “May I be excused to see Anakin to the healers?”

“Permission to see to young Skywalker, you have, Obi-Wan,” Yoda said.

Padmé shot Sabé a commanding look.

“My handmaiden will attend you,” Sabé hurried out.  “She has seen to his care.”

Qui-Gon made an abortive gesture to also join them, only stopping when Obi-Wan shot him a fiercely angry glare over his shoulder, the Force rippling with his intent to keep Qui-Gon away.

“You are not dismissed, Master Jinn,” Mace said sternly, assisting Obi-Wan quickly.

Obi-Wan swept out, Padmé beside him.

o-O-o

“How is he?”

Obi-Wan looked over to where Quin lounged in the doorway; his shoulder rested on the doorjamb, his arms folded over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankle.

“Master Che thinks he’ll be fine with some sleep and a good meal or two,” Obi-Wan resisted the urge to smooth Anakin’s bangs away from his forehead.  “They removed his slave chip so he won’t explode at least.”  It sat in a container on the bedside cabinet so Anakin could see it.

Quin entered the room, closing the door behind him.  He crouched down beside the chair and tugged on Obi-Wan’s arm until Obi-Wan faced him.

Quin’s gaze ran over his face.  He placed a hand at the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and rubbed at the tension gathered there.  “What do you need, d’anshari?”

Obi-Wan leaned forward and rested his forehead on Quin’s unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside of him.

“You love him,” Quin said quietly. “That isn’t a bad thing.” He stroked Obi-Wan’s neck gently.  “I love Aalya.”

:I’m supposed to be ensuring he has a second chance: Obi-Wan sighed.  He straightened, which unfortunately dislodged Quin’s hand which fell away to his shoulder. 

:You were a grieving young Knight last time: Quin returned.  :Look, every Master makes mistakes with their padawans; you did your best:

:By that token, Qui-Gon should be given a pass:

:Qui-Gon’s a tool, and you know there is a difference between making genuine mistakes and choosing to inflict abuse or neglect:

“You really think I should take Anakin on as a padawan?!” Obi-Wan asked, bemused.

“I think you should consider that of all the people in that room, you’re the one who he felt safe enough to lose control with,” Quin replied, squeezing Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

“We have a Force bond,” Obi-Wan confessed.  “But I still believe he’d be best joining the Initiates for a while.”

“Maybe,” Quin shrugged.  “Doesn’t mean you can’t take him as a padawan later.” :You know what mistakes not to make this time: He grinned.  :So, you’ll make all new mistakes:

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.  “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“You should get some rest,” Quin said.  He straightened and stretched.

Obi-Wan enjoyed the show.

Quin arched a knowing eyebrow at him as he leaned back against the bed.  “The Naboo requested your presence for in-person testimony at the Senate presentation tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan frowned, irritated.  “Mace agreed, didn’t he?” 

“Ordered me to be the one to break the bad news,” Quin replied cheerfully.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin.  He hated the idea of leaving him alone in the temple.

“You can introduce us in the morning,” Quin said, “and he can spend the day with me and Aayla.”

It was a good suggestion.

Obi-Wan nodded.  “What else happened after I left?”  He’d been too focused on Anakin to even notice when Padmé had disappeared.

“The Council politely kicked everyone, but Jinn out,” Quin stated.  “We were asked to wait in the atrium.  After a little while, Plo escorted Jinn out; he’s got his own room down the hall.  He’s showing signs of deep psychic damage.”

It wasn’t a surprise.  Master Whills had indicated Qui-Gon had been wounded; the severing of the Force bond would only have acerbated that, even if it was his own doing.

“We were invited back, and the Council informed the Queen that Jinn was already under review due to their own concerns about what had happened with you getting left behind,” Quin informed him.  “She accepted that.  She’s worried Jinn mind-wiped their pilot into leaving you behind on the planet.”

“She’s what?” Obi-Wan blinked at Quin before narrowing his eyes.  “I’m sure she wouldn’t have said something so bluntly.”

“She didn’t,” Quin agreed easily, “but it’s what she meant underneath all the flowery diplomacy.” He pointed his thumb left.  “Pilot is also receiving treatment down the hall.”

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, only to grimace as his fingers raked through short curls.

“After that, the discussion turned to Naboo,” Quin grimaced.  “Mace called the Chancellor and Palpatine and, well, you know the rest.”

“Senate petition tomorrow,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Apparently it’s all your fault there’s a presentation?” teased Quin.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.  “I can’t believe they were going to talk with the Senate without showing evidence.”  It was no wonder it had all gone badly the first time…and he should probably consider how Sidious would try to manipulate it to go badly again.

Quin shrugged.  He caught Obi-Wan’s eyes in a firm gaze.  “You’re not leaving this room to go rest, are you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

Quin sighed and pushed off the bed.  “I’ll arrange a cot with Master Che.”  He dropped a kiss on Obi-Wan’s head.  “Meditate before you vibrate out of your skin.”

Obi-Wan surprised himself by falling asleep on the comfortable cot, datapad in hand as he looked up obscure law passages.  He was equally surprised into waking by the clatter of Bant arriving.

A wide-awake Anakin was shy with him for as long as it took to show him the removed slave chip.  He steered Anakin through a wash and dressed him in a clean tunic and leggings which Bant had brought along.  Anakin settled back atop his bed with a breakfast tray of stewed grains and syrupy fruit.  Obi-Wan accepted a second tray from Bant who grinned at him before turning to Anakin.     

“You’ll make sure he eats it all, right, Anakin?”

Anakin nodded furiously.  “I will, Miss Bant.”

Bant left with a smug air not befitting a Jedi.

Obi-Wan settled to his meal, prompting Anakin into excited chatter with a question about the pod race.  Anakin suddenly stopped abruptly and frowned into the gloopy remains of his meal. 

“What is it, Anakin?” coaxed Obi-Wan.

“What will happen to me now?” Anakin asked plaintively.  “Mister Qui-Gon said I was going to be trained by him, but he’s been loco since we left Tatooine and I was a baby yesterday so everyone must hate me and…”

“Nobody hates you,” Obi-Wan cut in firmly.  “Everyone in the room was just concerned because you were so distressed.  None of the Council like to see a youngling in pain.”

Anakin blinked.

Obi-Wan nudged his arm so he’d continue eating.  “I’ve petitioned the Council to allow you to join the temple.  Your age group tend to be in Initiate classes.  You’ll learn everything about what it means to be a Jedi and the different careers you could do such as piloting,” he smiled as Anakin’s eyes lit up, “and there will be lessons on control and accessing the Force.”

Anakin slurped down some fruit quickly.  “I’ll be an Initiate and not a…a padawn?”

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan corrected gently.  “Exactly.  You’ll spend time with people your own age and make friends, get to know the temple.  You need information, Anakin, if you’re to really know if becoming a Jedi is the choice you want to make now that you’re a free boy.”  He set his own clean bowl aside.  “If you do decide you want to be a Jedi Knight, then the Force will help to bring you together with a Master who will help teach you.”

Anakin’s spoon clattered into his empty bowl.  He looked at Obi-Wan with knowing eyes.  “You’ll be my Master.”

“If that’s what you want once you’ve had time to consider your choices,” Obi-Wan replied evenly.

Anakin fidgeted with the edge of his blanket.  “I dreamed about you on Tatooine like I dreamed about Padmé. I was so happy to see you and then…” he shivered, “that thing which attacked us was scary.”

“Dreams are sometimes the way the Force tells you something,” Obi-Wan said, deciding he was just going to ignore everything Qui-Gon and Yoda had ever said about dreams.  “We have a natural Force bond.”

“What’s that?” asked Anakin.

Obi-Wan tapped his head and then Anakin’s.  “We’re connected, your mind to my mind.”

Anakin’s mouth gaped open.  He snapped it shut.  “Does that mean you know what I’m thinking?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.  “I’m shielding us; our thoughts aren’t leaking through.  Once you have your own shields in good repair, you’ll be able to do it yourself.  Sometimes we’ll want to talk to each other, and sometimes we may just want to sense if the other is well.”

Anakin’s relief cascaded over his small face. 

“Force bonds are typical between those of us strong in the Force,” Obi-Wan said.  “I like to think that it’s the way the Force shows us that we’re meant to be family.”

Anakin’s Force presence resonated with happiness at that idea.

“Now, I doubt anything will be decided about your placement in the temple until the Council talks with you and gets to know your thoughts on all this,” Obi-Wan said.  “You’ll stay in the temple as our guest until then.”

Anakin gave a breathy sigh of relief. 

“Unfortunately, I have to spend the day at the Senate helping the Naboo,” Obi-Wan continued.  He held up a hand before Anakin could jump in with an offer to go along with him.  “I’ve arranged for you to spend the day with a friend of mine and his padawan.  Like Bant, they’re like family to me…”

“So they’ll be my family too,” Anakin declared brightly.

A rap on the door had Quin poking his head through with impeccable timing.  “Are you ready for us?”

Obi-Wan gestured him inside and a cheerful Aayla followed in his wake.  Obi-Wan made the introductions and was pleased when Anakin happily started chattering to the curious Aayla.

“We are going to have so much fun,” Quin declared.  “You’d better go and get ready, Obi-Wan. Windu will meet you in the speeder bay in an hour.”  He made a shooing gesture.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and leaned over to give Anakin a hug goodbye.  “Try not to let him get you into too much trouble.”

Anakin grinned happily at him.

The memory of that grin kept him buoyant as he made his way to his own room to get ready for the Senate.  He could only hope it would do the same when he had to face Palpatine.

o-O-o

“My dear boy,” Palpatine said effusively, taking Obi-Wan’s hand once again in the two-handed grip and not letting go.  “It is so delightful to see you once more.”  Obi-Wan felt Mace’s amusement at his predicament.

Padmé’s eyebrows were almost at her hairline in her painted face.  “Knight Kenobi, we’re pleased you could be with us.”  She moved forward forcing her Senator to let go of Obi-Wan so he could greet her.

Obi-Wan smiled brightly at her as he bowed.  She looked ethereally pretty in a bright red gown embroidered with gold silk and a matching fan headdress.  “Your Highness.”

Behind him, Mace made his own greeting to Palpatine before he also gave a short bow to the Queen who greeted him with politeness.

The Naboo Senate offices were bright and airy.  They were richly decorated with expensive ornamentation and beautiful fresh flowers.  It was extravagant but functional, Obi-Wan mused.

“Please, dear Jedi, join us,” Palpatine waved them to the comfortable long sofa.

“How is our pilot?” Padmé asked urgently.

Mace inclined his head.  “He was definitely under a dark mind compulsion.”

“Oh, surely not!” proclaimed Palpatine, looking genuinely surprised.

“The healers are certain he’ll make a full recovery,” Mace continued, “and he should be back with you in a week.”

“That is a relief,” Padmé said.  “And how is Anakin?”

“Feeling much better,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Anakin…” Palpatine smiled at Padmé.  “He’s the slave child who assisted us?”

“He’s free now, Senator,” Padmé replied tersely, “and in the care of Knight Kenobi.”

Palpatine turned to Obi-Wan.  “It is kind of you to care for the boy.  From your briefing, you must only have met him for a moment on Tatooine.”

“He’s a charming and energetic boy,” Obi-Wan allowed evenly.  “He’ll do well at the temple.”

“Oh, has he already been accepted or…I’m afraid I’m not cognisant with the Jedi procedure on finding a Force sensitive child of his age,” Palpatine demurred.

“It’s not unusual for us to find Force sensitives over our usual intake age when they originate from the Outer Rim,” Mace replied easily.  “Anakin will take tests and we’ll place him with our Initiates.  We’ll help him find his control.”

Palpatine smiled.  “Then how fortunate that he was found by Master Jinn.” He frowned.  “I was disappointed to hear of the complaints against the Jedi Master from my fellow Naboo.  Chancellor Valorum considers him a dear friend and extolled his virtues when he was assigned.”

Obi-Wan let Mace handle that probe.

“Master Jinn received some kind of Force injury on the way to Tatooine,” Mace allowed, “while his methods are sometimes unorthodox, we feel his actions here may have been unduly influenced by his injury.  He is currently in the care of our healers and we’ll determine the rest through the investigation we’ve begun.”

“We hope he makes a full recovery,” Padmé said diplomatically.  She smoothed her skirt down in a nervous gesture before turning to Obi-Wan.  “Senator Palpatine has advised me that a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum may be only way forward.  I would know your thoughts.”

Obi-Wan exchanged a quick glance with Mace before he caught her determined gaze with a sympathetic one of his own.  “The Jedi are neutral in respect of politics, Your Highness, so our official answer would be that the Senate chooses the Supreme Chancellor; the Jedi take no part.”

Padmé hummed.  “But that leaves your unofficial thoughts,” she teased.

Obi-Wan smiled at her.  “Consider this; no political system is perfect.  The Republic is made up of thousands of planets and systems and its problems are complex requiring complex solutions.  Some planets and systems are more evolved than others.  Conflicts are rife because galactic law is applied and enforced differently across the Republic.  Some planets and systems struggle to get their voices heard at all, while other planets and systems have arguably too much influence due to location, wealth or economic power.  There are only so many hours in a day for people to be heard; only so many resources to be deployed to fix any particular issue.”

Padmé was listening attentively, he realised, as was Palpatine.

“It is no secret that there is corruption in the Senate and our wider Republic.  It is no secret that there are parts of the Republic which operate more like Tatooine than Naboo; that some Senators thrive on power rather than doing the right thing for their citizens.  This is the reality of our politics.”

“It is a depressing summation,” Padmé noted.   

“Because of this reality, any Supreme Chancellor would struggle to bring total order to the Republic because currently they do not have the legislative power to enforce a position nor the means.  Yet to give a Supreme Chancellor those powers…”

“Would set us on the path to tyranny,” Padmé completed.

“However, an effective Chancellor should demonstrate effective leadership, deal with corruption and work with the Senate to create a system of governance that allows all within the democracy a voice; they should work to maintain the peace but not at the expense of injustice,” Obi-Wan continued passionately.  “Chaos, yet harmony.  This is the Jedi tenet.”

“I understand,” Padmé said, “that is also a rather beautiful way of describing a democracy.”

Obi-Wan smiled at her warmly.  “In respect to Senator Palpatine’s suggestion, you have to ask yourself; how will it benefit Naboo and the wider Republic for you to make the motion?  It will likely not change the outcome of today’s Senate in respect of dealing with the Naboo conflict as realistically the Chancellor, both as a person and an office, has limited ability to assist you.”

“But in ensuring the Republic is healthier in the long term and this cannot happen to either Naboo or another again?” Padmé nodded.  “I will consider this in my deliberations.”

Obi-Wan became aware of how the entire room was focused on him.  “Ah, apologies, I seem to have gotten carried away in my reply.”

“Nonsense,” Palpatine said with what appeared to be a genuine smile.  “It’s a shame that the Jedi do take no part because we could definitely use a political mind such as yours within the Senate.”

Mace coughed.  “As a Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan’s talents are wielded in the service of the Republic.”

“Indeed, and we are grateful that they are currently wielded to assist us,” Padmé said.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and gestured towards her.  “Have you determined your objective for today?”   

Padmé looked confused which meant they hadn’t discussed it.

Palpatine coughed.  “My apologies, Your Highness.  We got caught up in the discussions on the Chancellor.”  He shot Obi-Wan an apparently grateful smile.  “I believe our primary objective is to have the Senate acknowledge that the invasion is real and censure the Trade Federation until they depart Naboo.  Our evidence should be enough to sway them.  This will give us legitimacy for any further objectives such as bringing the ring leaders to justice or demanding reparations.”

“Your secondary objective might be to ask for aid, either military or humanitarian, that the other members can offer you in helping you enforce the end to the conflict,” Mace chipped in.  “You will need support to rebuild.”    

Padmé nodded.  “We will take your advice in this matter, Senator, Master Windu.”

A soft chime sounded from the desk.

“Our signal to move to the chamber,” Palpatine said.

Obi-Wan had never liked the Senate chamber.  The black pods made for a cold and foreboding ambience in his opinion.  While it accommodated the size of the congress, it was also not well-suited for debate or petition.

He was ushered onto the pod with Padmé, Palpatine and Panaka.  Mace, the handmaidens and the rest of the guard headed to an observation deck close to the pod bay.

Palpatine smoothed down his robes.  “I hope you don’t mind if I steal some of your words from our earlier discussion, Knight Kenobi.  They were most powerful and compelling.”

“Not at all, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, “as long as I nor the Jedi receive any credit.”

Palpatine smiled, clearly happy at the hint that Obi-Wan was corruptible and would do things in private as a Jedi that he was not supposed to do.  He guided the pod to the centre and rose as the Chancellor finished his introduction.

“My fellow Senators, we come before you today as the elected representatives of one of the smaller systems within the Republic hoping you will hear our voice,” Palpatine began.  “Our size and the proximity we have to advantageous trade routes and hyperspeed lanes has made us a target for intimidation and illegal occupation.  The evidence pack currently being distributed to your pods shows the blockade of our system by the Trade Federation…”

Another pod zoomed out of position.

“This is outrageous!” The representative from the Trade Federation protested.  “This evidence is clearly fake…”

“The Chair does not recognise the representative from the Trade Federation at this time,” Chancellor Valorum stated sternly.

“This evidence has been collated and verified by the Jedi,” Palpatine indicated Obi-Wan who stood and bowed to the Senate.  “I call upon him now to testify.”

“I object!  We should have had prior notice of testimony so we can refute it!  I demand a commission be…” The Trade Federation tried again to interrupt.

“You cannot object or demand,” Obi-Wan stated before the Chancellor and his team could reply.  “Under Galactic Law 1349, section 9.b, any member of the Republic may call upon the Jedi to testify or speak on their behalf without prior notice to the Senate or other related parties engaged in a conflict.  Under Galactic Law 12, section 22.c, the testimony of the Jedi is considered unquestionable and cannot be refuted in respect of validity for the Jedi are bound by the Force and our oaths to protect the Republic.” 

Palpatine looked momentarily shocked before his expression became smugly satisfied.

“Master Qui-Gon Jinn and I were deployed to Naboo to negotiate with the Trade Federation in the matter of their blockade,” Obi-Wan began.  “Shortly after our arrival, the room filled with a toxic gas and we were attacked on our exit by battle droids.  We hitched a ride on transports the Trade Federation sent to Naboo which took hundreds if not thousands of droids to the surface where they proceeded to violently engage with the local populace, rounding up innocent civilians into camps.”

A horrified whisper broke out around the room.

“I object!” spluttered the Trade Federation representative again.  “If the gas was toxic, how are you alive?”

“We are Jedi,” Obi-Wan replied, enigmatic enough to sell the Senate on the idea that their magic had saved them rather than their ability to hold their breath for a very long time.  “Once on the surface, Master Jinn and I were able to rescue the Queen and her party from armed droids.  I was further witness to seeing a group of Naboo pilots held prisoner by droids carrying blasters, the violent opposition as we left including the blockade firing upon the vessel, and the worrying message from Governor Bibble about the occupation of the Trade Federation.” He sat down.

“You will find in your packs all evidence substantiating the testimony of Knight Kenobi,” Palpatine paused.  “Her Majesty Queen Amidala our elected sovereign will now make our petition.”

Padmé got to her feet.  “We come before you to request three things.  Firstly, that the Senate censure and sanction the Trade Federation for their illegal occupation of Naboo; that the censure recognises the right of Naboo to seek reparations and justice; to prosecute the leaders within the Federation who sanctioned such violent action against us.”

The Trade Federation representative spluttered incoherent.

“Secondly, that the Republic aide us in repelling this invasion from our planet, or legitimises our action in doing the same,” Padmé continued.  Her eyes flashed to the Trade Federation pod.  “And thirdly, we would seek humanitarian aid to help our people heal in the wake of this atrocity.”  She bowed her head.  “My people suffer.  We come before you asking as fellow Republicans to hear our voice.”

She sat down.

The Chancellor stood.  “We will now vote on the three parts of the petition.  First part; censure and sanction of the Trade Federation and…”

His Vice Chancellor was suddenly in the Chancellor’s ear whispering something.

“Here is the bureaucrat right on schedule,” Palpatine mocked in a low voice.

Valorum looked sheepish.  “I’m afraid we will need to defer the petition until the parts have been reviewed and discussed in the appropriate sub-committees and…”

Obi-Wan stood up.  “I’m sorry, Chancellor, but Galactic Law 14, section 10.a, states any member of the Republic may petition the Senate directly when there is evidence of a violent conflict.  The Senate policy and procedure regarding petitions does not trump Galactic Law in this matter.”

Valorum looked relieved and flustered in equal measure.  “Thank you for the correction, Knight Kenobi.”

:Palpatine looks like he doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you or kill you:

Mace’s voice sounded in Obi-Wan’s head.  He shot the Jedi Master a glowering scowl; Mace smirked back at him briefly, resuming his usual façade before someone caught him in the act.

The vote was tedious. 

Padmé smiled warmly at Obi-Wan as they waited.  “You are continually saving us it seems, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes,” Palpatine agreed, “you have a fine understanding of Galactic law.”

“I was something of a law nerd in my youth,” Obi-Wan demurred, which was true even if he was using the fact to hide his hours of searching said laws the previous evening.

“Much to our benefit,” Palpatine gushed.

Obi-Wan looked desperately over to the display.  “Is the vote over?”

“Yes,” Palpatine confirmed.  “Now we see how much help the Chancellor can truly give us.”

Valorum stood up.  “On the first part of the petition, the vote is carried in favour of Naboo.  Sanctions against the Trade Federation will be discussed in the Trade and Fiscal Sub-Committee.”

Padmé blew out a frustrated breath.

“Unfortunately we can’t counter that one as we didn’t specify what sanctions we wanted,” Palpatine sighed.

“On the second part of the petition, the vote is carried in favour of Naboo in respect of legitimising any action Naboo may take in dealing with the invasion of their sovereign system.  Unfortunately, our Judicial Forces are committed elsewhere and I cannot release them to the effort at this time.”

“Disappointing,” Palpatine tsked.

Obi-Wan could see he was making an impact on Padmé’s view of the Chancellor.

“On the third part,” Valorum said, “the vote is carried in favour of Naboo.  The Humanitarian Service Sub-Committee will debate the appropriate settlement with the Naboo government.”

Padmé stood, her tiny body vibrating with anger.  “Naboo thanks their fellow Republicans for listening to our voice.”  She cast a fierce look around the room.  “However, we cannot wait for Sub-Committees to bring pressure to bear or to determine the aid we need, nor will we wait until Judicial Forces become available.  Naboo will deal with the invasion of the Trade Federation.”

There was a ripple of incoherent mumbling around the Senate walls.  The Trade Federation representative appeared to be panicking, casting looks around the chamber as though desperate to find a way out.

Padmé paused.  “But I fear for the future of the Republic.  I question the effectiveness of the Senate to respond to conflicts and issues, a Senate which allows innocents to suffer due to the machinations of the ambitious and corrupt, members of this very Senate.  I do this in the belief that we must have strong leadership if our democracy is to survive.”

Obi-Wan held his breath, but he knew what was coming…

“I call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum,” Padmé concluded.

There it was, Obi-Wan thought as the chamber erupted into a cacophony of noise, emotion flooding into the Force. 

Palpatine’s glee shone in the quick smile he shot Obi-Wan.

It was the right thing to do, Obi-Wan reminded himself, ignoring the nausea churning in his belly.  There were threads and tapestry, and Palpatine becoming Chancellor was too huge a thread to pull free so early into his time travel.  It didn’t stop the nagging thought that wondered if he should have pulled on it anyway.

o-O-o

The door chime sounded just as Obi-Wan finished closing up the small duffle he’d packed for the mission.  He swore lightly under his breath, letting his Force sense reach out to identify…

Qui-Gon.

He was meant to be restricted to the Halls of Healing.

Obi-Wan sighed.  Qui-Gon had no doubt used the Force to find Obi-Wan and he had to know that Obi-Wan knew who was behind the door.  He tapped his commlink to record and opened the door.

“Master,” Obi-Wan said evenly, filling the doorway to prevent Qui-Gon from entering. 

He took in Qui-Gon’s rumpled appearance.  His greying hair had been tied back, but loose tendrils floated around his head.  He’d shrugged on a typical brown cloak over what appeared to be his white infirmary pyjamas.  There was nothing on his feet.

“Padawan, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon began urgently, “may I come in?”

Obi-Wan repressed the urge to sigh and stepped back.  “I’m due on a transport, I don’t have much time.”

Qui-Gon scurried in and stopped in the middle of the apartment, confusion writ all over his face at the warm ambience Obi-Wan had created.  His eyes landed and stayed on the revitalised cactus sat on the shelf above the sofa.

“You are going back to Naboo?” checked Qui-Gon.

“Master,” Obi-Wan said firmly, “you should not be here.”

Qui-Gon lifted a hand to his head.  “I needed to see you, to explain.”

“The investigation…”

“I do not need an investigation to take me to task for leaving you behind in the middle of a fight with a Sith!” Qui-Gon barked.  “I can do that myself!” 

The Force swirled around him.

Obi-Wan deliberately kept calm in response.   

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.  “I Fell.”

The soft confession made Obi-Wan’s heart ache.  “Master…”

“The disturbance in the Force?  It was a vision, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said.  “As you know I rarely, rarely get them and all I really remember now is that the future in it was horrifying and terrifying and I don’t remember how but I Fell in the vision. I suspect it was possessiveness about…about Anakin.”

Obi-Wan listened, fascinated by Qui-Gon’s remembrance of what had actually been his own time travel possession.

Qui-Gon blew out a breath.  “When I woke up, it felt like that Fallen me had taken over my body and my mind, and I was helpless inside of myself.  I could only watch, Obi-Wan.”

“You felt like you were possessed by your vision self?” Obi-Wan asked slowly.  Was that possible?  Had the Ghost Qui-Gon failed to eliminate Original Qui-Gon?  He was certain Qui-Gon’s own stubbornness might account for the failure.

The Force swept through him and he felt the presence of Master Whills; it was the truth.  There had been no elimination, no clear take over, no merger.  The Master Obi-Wan had before Tatooine had been locked in his own head by his Force Ghost.

“Yes!” Qui-Gon paced a few steps and paused by the windows, tucking his hands into his sleeves.  “I saw the whole mission on Tatooine that way.  But I…I knew he was me and I was him and he did no differently than I would have done for the most part.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his chin.  He could only imagine how horrifying it had felt for Qui-Gon, for someone who usually had total mastery of their mind and body.  “Master…”

“Until,” Qui-Gon said frantically, “until that moment when we left you to fight the Sith.”

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon; he appeared devastated, pale and trembling.  His eyes were filled with self-loathing. 

“I thought…I thought I would go back once Anakin was on the ship, but we went to the cockpit and told them to take off and…the pilot flew towards the fight and I knew you’d jump onto the ramp and be safe and…and then he created a sandstorm and closed the ramp.”

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon’s eyes closed.

“I started fighting but my other self brutally compelled the pilot into leaving; they didn’t want to, they were fond of you,” Qui-Gon opened his eyes, dampness evident as a tear tracked its way down his face.  “He tore our bond to shreds and I couldn’t stop him.  I tried, but everything went black and when I woke up, we were at Coruscant.  He was gone, but so were you.  When I couldn’t sense you, I thought you’d died.”

“Master,” Obi-Wan said softly.  “Let’s get you back to the healers.”

“I am alone in my head again, I promise you,” Qui-Gon said.  “I am just so sorry, Padawan, that I was not strong enough, that I allowed this to happen to me.  I could not let you go on a mission thinking I left you there deliberately, that I do not care about you.  You are my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t bear to see Qui-Gon in so much pain.  He crossed the room and drew him into a gentle embrace. 

Qui-Gon sagged against him, his grip on Obi-Wan reminding him of Anakin’s the night before.  Obi-Wan sent him soothing waves of calm through the Force.

“You need to recover from this ordeal, to come to terms with that version of yourself Falling, to know that you are capable of it and why,” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon nodded shakily.

“Here,” Obi-Wan ushered him into one of the chairs by the table and handed him a glass of water.  He checked the time and grimaced.  He tapped his commlink.  “Quin, I’m going to be fifteen minutes late to the departure.”

“Well, we can’t leave without you, but the traffic control isn’t going to be happy,” Quin replied.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Obi-Wan dropped the comm and tapped another contact.

“Che,” came the strident voice of the Master Healer. 

“I have a patient of yours in my quarters, Master Che,” Obi-Wan said brightly.

“That’s where he went,” Che sighed, “I should have guessed.  I’ll send someone for him.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said.  “I am due to meet a transport any minute so…”

“Understood,” Che said.

Obi-Wan ended the comm.  He slid into the second chair.  “You know I’ll have to report this to Master Koon.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon said.  He met Obi-Wan’s eyes with determination.  “I will cooperate fully with the review.  I realise that I may have already walked many years along the path which took me to the Dark.  I would see and make right what I can.”

Obi-Wan searched for something else to say.

“They won’t tell me anything about Anakin,” Qui-Gon said sadly.  “I understand why, of course, but I am genuinely worried for him.”

Obi-Wan peered at him with all his senses.  He could find Qui-Gon’s concern in the Force, but that didn’t mean the concern wasn’t formed from the inappropriate attachment Qui-Gon felt about Anakin.  He sighed.

“I can tell you, he’s safe and well,” Obi-Wan said.  Yoda had stepped in to take charge of Anakin when the Naboo had determined to leave immediately after the Senate no-confidence vote. Padmé refused to waste any additional time on Coruscant when her people needed saving.

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon said.

The door chime sounded. 

Obi-Wan hid his relief as Qui-Gon set his glass aside and stood.  They walked over to the door together.  Obi-Wan opened it to find Master Che outside. 

“I thought it best to come myself to retrieve him,” Che said, glaring at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon looked calm and unperturbed by her displeasure.  “I am ready to return now that I have achieved what I needed to do.”

Che scowled, her lekku twitching.  “You are impossible.”

For a second it was as though the past week (decades) had not happened; as though it was just Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, and the normality of their lives in the temple.

Qui-Gon turned to him.  “I will only say this; I am proud of you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan nodded, a lump in his throat.  He’d heard the words before when he’d died and joined the Force himself, but it felt different with them both still alive.  “I thank you for your teaching, Master.  Whatever the outcome of the review, know that I have never regretted our time together.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes shone before he took a breath and calmed himself again. “May the Force be with you,” He bowed and started to walk.

“Your room is this way,” Che said firmly.

Qui-Gon grimaced but changed directions.

Obi-Wan fled back into his room, grabbed the duffle and charged out.  If he added a little bit of the Force, he might just make it to the ship on time…

o-O-o

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have taken our ship,” Quin grumbled, shifting awkwardly in the bunk above him.

“You mean the Sith ship?” Obi-Wan said incredulously.  “The one sitting in parts in the hangar with Master Ckis still fondling every item?  That ship?”

“It was fast,” Quin said, punching the thin pillow.  “We’ve been stuck on this bucket of bolts for two days already.”

The ship the Council had allocated to the small team of five was actually one of the newest in the fleet.  The YT 1200 dubbed The Jedi Shadow reminded Obi-Wan of The Millennium Falcon.  It made him nostalgic for Han and Chewie. 

“In fairness, we could have reached Naboo a day ago, but we’re following the Nubian ship,” Obi-Wan said dryly.  For some reason nobody on the Naboo side had suggested they take a different ship back to the planet nor buy a better quality of hyperdrive to install in the one they had.

Quin turned around restlessly in the bunk.  “I hate this waiting.”

“War is all hurry up and wait, interspersed with moments of complete chaos and violence where your only hope is that you, your loved ones, and your soldiers survive it,” Obi-Wan said, remembering too many wars, too many battles of the past.

Quin was silent for a long moment.  He suddenly jumped down and shoved at Obi-Wan until the two of them were cuddled up together in Obi-Wan’s bunk.

It reminded Obi-Wan of their childhood.  Quin was a few years older than him, taken as a padawan earlier than most because of his psychometry, but they’d been close.  They’d often slept together as children in the crèche and padawan sleepovers had been typical until Qui-Gon’s directive on their budding teenage romance.

Obi-Wan breathed in Quin’s solid spicy scent and tucked his head closer.  He’d ended up mostly sprawled on top of his friend.

Quin stroked a hand down his back.  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out?”

Obi-Wan hummed.  He knew the chance for flashbacks was high.  “I was personally requested by the Queen of Naboo.”

“You’re allowed to say no,” Quin pointed out. 

“I’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said.  “Besides, I think I have to be here.” The Force felt it was the right choice.  He pressed closer into Quin.  “Apart from hurry up and wait, what’s got you so tied up in knots?”

For a long moment Obi-Wan thought Quin wouldn’t answer.

“Am I a bad Master?” Quin blurted out.

Obi-Wan knew Quin had felt his disbelief in the question through the Force, because the body beneath his went lax.

“You don’t think I am,” Quin stated.

“Why would you think that?” asked Obi-Wan.

Quin sighed heavily.  “It just feels like I’m leaving her every five minutes,” he stated, “and Master Tholme says he doesn’t mind stepping in…”

Obi-Wan huffed out a chuckle.  “Tholme loves being a grandmaster.”

“It feels like everyone else is training her but me, you know,” Quin pressed his cheek against the top of Obi-Wan’s head.

Obi-Wan searched for the right words.  “Will it help if I tell you she grew up into a wonderful Jedi?”

“Yeah, it does,” Quin said.

“She loves you,” Obi-Wan said simply.

Quin stroked a hand down Obi-Wan’s back.  “We’ll change her fate.”

It was a promise; a statement of intent.

“Yes, we will,” Obi-Wan confirmed.

“I hate that we have to let him become Chancellor,” Quin said.

“You still want to just shoot him dead, don’t you?” Obi-Wan said amused.

Quin shrugged which moved them both for a second.  “Decapitating him with my lightsabre but…yes.”  He sighed again.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“You shouldn’t have watched the holostream,” Obi-Wan commented dryly.

Quin sniffed.  “It was a good politics lesson for the kids.” He hesitated.  “Windu isn’t actually pimping you out, is he?”

“We want to keep his attention on me and away from Anakin,” Obi-Wan stated.  “But I don’t think we need to go that far.”

“Good,” Quin said.

“Good?” Obi-Wan repeated, raising his head to look at Quin.

“You know I don’t like to share,” Quin said. 

Obi-Wan froze.

Quin reached up and tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck.  “Stop freaking out.  You can kiss me when this is all over.”

“You’re that certain I will,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

Quin’s dark eyes roamed over him.  “I’m not adverse to showing up in your bed naked like I did when we were teenagers so we can do the Thing.”

Sex being the Thing.

Obi-Wan felt his breath catch in his throat.  “Quin…”

“Less freaking out,” Quin repeated, “more sleep.” He nudged Obi-Wan back into his previous position.

Obi-Wan knew he should really continue freaking out, but he was tired and lying with Quin was comforting.  He fell asleep between one breath and the next. 

o-O-o

“You want to change the whole battle plan?”

Obi-Wan hadn’t realised Panaka’s voice could reach that high a pitch.  The holoimage flickered as though in response.

Sabé was back playing Queen with Padmé at her elbow.  “Why do you suggest such a thing and now, Knight Kenobi?  We are only three hours away from dropping out of hyperspace.”

“I suspect someone has been feeding the Trade Federation information about our movements and plans,” Obi-Wan said calmly.  “If my suspicion is true then the battleplan we worked out on Coruscant has already been communicated to them and they will be ready for us.”

On the other side of the circular table, Adi glared at him.  She had nominated herself to attend the mission.  Obi-Wan was glad Siri who had been her padawan was already knighted and away on a different mission.  He loved Siri but she and Quin were a fiery combination. 

“You couldn’t have said something earlier?” Adi demanded.

Quin grinned at him.

“Well, my timing is deliberate,” Obi-Wan said.   

“Your timing is well-considered,” Knight Feemor Popu said dryly.  “We’re got enough time to hash over the new plan, which I’m sure you have a proposal for, and any spies will be left with minimal time to get news to the Trade Federation and even less time for them to respond or change their own plans.”

The other Knight looked even more like a monk than most Jedi, with his thinning brown hair cropped short, an ever-present pleasant expression and all brown outfit.  Obi-Wan had noted that the overall effect was that people took Feemor very seriously.

Obi-Wan shot Feemor a grateful look.  “Exactly.”

Sabé and Padmé exchanged a look.

The Queen grimaced.  “As much as we would like to hope all our people are loyal, we cannot deny that at every turn the Trade Federation has seemed to be a step ahead of us.”  She nodded sharply. “It is time to change the board.”

Obi-Wan smirked.  “Or change the game entirely.”  He started to lay out his plan.

An hour later, Feemor caught up with him in the small seating area, bearing mugs of tea.  “May I join you, Knight Kenobi?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan set his datapad down.  He smiled ruefully.  “Honestly, I’m glad of the interruption.  I’m going to drive myself insane going over everything again.”

Feemor sat down and set one of the mugs in front of Obi-Wan.  “I’m surprised to see you without your Shadow.”

Obi-Wan smiled fondly.  “He hates not being the one in the cockpit.  He’s finally given in and gone to annoy our pilot.”

“I doubt S’jon will put up with much of that,” Feemor grinned.  S’jon was a H’wk; a flying species who were unsurprisingly gifted pilots.  S’jon was covered in fine blond feathers and tall.  Thankfully, unlike the Wookie, he covered up his feathered body in a flight suit.

“Quin knows,” Obi-Wan admitted cheerfully.  He sipped the tea and hummed.  It was Qui-Gon’s favourite.  He’d acquired a taste for it after all the years of being with his Master and was pleased with the choice.

Feemor shared his hum of appreciation. “You know I swore I’d never drink this after I was Knighted.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“I, uh,” Feemor shook his head and huffed out a breath, “this shouldn’t be this difficult.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head, reading only a hint of frustration on Feemor’s face; he was very good at projecting Jedi calm.  “I promise I won’t bite.”  He paused.  “Quin might.”

The joke had Feemor’s frame relaxing just a tad.  The Knight took a breath.  “I was Master Jinn’s first padawan.”

Obi-Wan froze, his cup part-way to his mouth.  He set the mug back down.  He felt completely disconcerted.  Feemor had never approached him in his last life and he’d never realised there had been another padawan before Xanatos.  During the early months of his padawanship, he’d realised Qui-Gon disliked talking about his past experience as a Master, and once Xanatos was dead…Obi-Wan had known it was a taboo topic.  He realised Feemor was still waiting for him to acknowledge him and hiding nervousness behind his rigid calm.

“Well met, brother,” Obi-Wan said softly. 

Feemor offered a shy smile.  “Well met.”  He sipped his tea.  “I apologise for not introducing myself to you years ago, but…the one attempt I made was intercepted by our Master, and he made it clear that he’d prefer it if I didn’t.”

Obi-Wan frowned. 

“It was just after Xanatos’ death,” Feemor said quietly.  “I thought I might be able to give comfort to you both, but Master Jinn, well…”

“He wanted punishment and penance, not comfort in the wake of the death,” Obi-Wan completed.  “I’m sure that was why he turned you away.”  He raised his own tea.  “I would have welcomed you had I known.”

Feemor gave another pleased half-smile.  “I should have made another attempt, but I was assigned as a wandering Knight on the Mid and Outer Rims soon after.  I rarely got back to the temple and when I did it always appeared to be when you were both out on a mission.  You’d just departed for Naboo with Jinn when I got back this time.”

“I’m glad we had this opportunity then,” Obi-Wan said.

Feemor’s calm expression turned sheepish.  “Ah, well, I had to stay at the temple to give testimony in Master Jinn’s review.  It was why I was available for this mission.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan repeated in the same tone.  He nodded thoughtfully.  It would make sense for Plo to seek out a former padawan for their view of Qui-Gon’s teaching.  “May I ask you…” he struggled with how to phrase the question.

“What kind of Master he was with me?” Feemor suggested.

Obi-Wan gave a grateful smile.  “Yes.”

Feemor clasped his hands in front of him on the table.  His warm brown eyes met Obi-Wan’s, sincerity and honesty shining in their depths.  “We began as a rebellion against Master Dooku’s view that Master Jinn was not ready for padawan; that he would never raise one to Knighthood, especially an Initiate who was not already the star of the temple and strong in the Force.”

Obi-Wan grimaced.  “I know their relationship was difficult at the end.”

“And I think at the beginning,” Feemor said.  “Dooku chose our Master because he was the best of his Initiate class and was strong in the Force.  They were not well-matched in temperament and character.  After Master Jinn was knighted, I believe the differences between them became chasms.”

“So, Master Jinn sought out a padawan after an argument with his Master, and he chose you?” Obi-Wan summarised.

“Yes,” Feemor’s smile was a twist of lips.  “He sought out the most middling of the Initiates, an average child with unassuming looks who was not particularly strong in the Force because he wanted to prove his Master wrong.  He told me so himself.”

Oh.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily.  “He can be a real bantha’s ass, can’t he?”

Feemor laughed.  He shot Obi-Wan an appreciative look.  “It was not an auspicious start, but my time as his padawan was mostly enjoyable.  He made mistakes in how to train me on various topics like all new Masters, but we muddled through those, and truthfully, I have no complaints in what I learned; I wouldn’t be the Knight I am without the knowledge he shared with me.”

Obi-Wan nodded; he felt very much the same.

“But,” Feemor continued, “occasionally on missions…he was careless, thoughtless.  He was so certain his way was the way because of the Force, he didn’t consider the ramifications for me as his padawan.”

“I can relate,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

“And he was so thoroughly attached to Tahl and Xanatos that anyone with the Force knew it was going to be an issue eventually,” Feemor said.  “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Obi-Wan nodded, but he didn’t want to go into the details with his newly found brother.  “He was attached to Xanatos during your own apprenticeship?”

“I was with Master Jinn when we found him on Telos IV,” Feemor said simply.  “I always knew that as soon as I was knighted, Xanatos would be his next padawan.  I was right.  I was knighted one day, and Xanatos had his padawan braid the next.”

Obi-Wan was reminded of how Qui-Gon had suddenly declared Obi-Wan’s readiness for the Trials because Anakin had needed training in the former timeline.    

“Did he push you to the Trials early?” asked Obi-Wan carefully.

Feemor shook his head.  “I was ready, but I guess after we found Xanatos, there was a knowing.”

Obi-Wan stroked his chin.  “Qui-Gon was waiting for me to ask about my readiness,” he confided, “and I was waiting for him to tell me I was ready.  Communication has always been a touch hit and miss between us.”

Feemor nodded understandingly.  “When Xanatos Fell, the review then found Qui-Gon derelict in his teaching and in response he renounced his ability to teach and his students, and in that one breath, thoughtlessly repudiated me along with Xanatos.”

Obi-Wan felt Feemor’s hurt in the Force.  He sent his own wave of compassionate empathy back to his brother. 

Feemor sighed.  “He apologised for it eventually, but the damage was done.  The Council had to step in and certify that as I had already passed the Trials, the matter of my padawanship being repudiated was meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“I wish I’d known about you before,” Obi-Wan murmured.  It explained several things about Qui-Gon that he’d never understood.

Feemor’s face filled with chagrin.  “Would you believe I came to ask how you were doing?  Master Koon told me the bare bones of what happened to you.  I didn’t mean to spend so much time waffling about my own experience.”

“I asked,” Obi-Wan said with a laugh.  “As for how I am…” he shrugged.  “Qui-Gon visited me before I left for the mission.  He apologised and it looks like he had psychic damage which may have played into the behaviour, but as you say…the damage has been done.  He promised to cooperate with the review so…we’ll see.”

The intercom flared into life with a burst of static that had them both wincing.

“Attention.  We will come out of hyperspace in twenty minutes,” S’jon’s voice informed them crisply.

“Showtime,” Obi-Wan quipped, draining the remainder of his tea quickly.

“Then we best get ready,” Feemor agreed and did the same.

The mugs hit the table in a synchronous bang.

o-O-o

In the first timeline, the Naboo had taken back the planet with three acts: the Gungans had distracted the droids in an open field battle, the Queen and her entourage had captured the Viceroy and taken back the palace after sneaking in through the passages, and the pilots had made an airstrike on the Trade Federation’s blockade, trying to destroy the droid control ship.

With the benefit of hindsight, Obi-Wan could see that Padmé’s plan had worked for three reasons; firstly, because she hadn’t shared it with Palpatine ahead of time, devising it in desperation on the way back to Naboo, it had meant they’d taken the Trade Federation by surprise. 

Secondly, because Anakin had accidentally ended up crashing into the droid control hangar bay and had blown the ship up from the inside when the shields outside had been programmed to repel fire from the Naboo ships.  Anakin’s ‘accident’ had simultaneously saved the Gungans who had been in full retreat from the relentless droids and ensured Padmé could keep the Viceroy hostage without hope of a rescue. 

Finally, the plan had worked because Obi-Wan had injured Maul severely (he’d thought he’d killed him), enough to render the Sith out of action.

Obi-Wan hadn’t been surprised when Padmé had presented a similar plan before they’d even left Coruscant.  Hoist by his own tabard, Obi-Wan mused.  He’d been the one to point out they needed a contingency plan if the Senate didn’t work.  Unfortunately, his suggestion meant that it was very likely that Palpatine knew everything ahead of time which was why it had been imperative to change it up.

And why he was perched on the edge of the ramp high above the palace steeling himself to jump.

There were still three prongs of attack in play. 

Sabé, Adi and Jar Jar had already been dropped off close to the Gungan sacred site to plead for assistance.  The intention though was for Adi to create a feint, an illusion of an army to distract the droids rather than the Gungans themselves.  It risked fewer Gungan lives and Obi-Wan didn’t doubt Palpatine had ordered the Trade Federation to eliminate the Naboo water natives.

Taking out the droid control ship was the job of the Alderaan Space Force strike team.  Obi-Wan had reached out to Bail Antilles for help after the Senate session.  Alderaan was one of the few planets who had the space flight capability to assist them.  They also had an existing mutual aid treaty with Naboo which would help Bail justify the decision to his own planetary parliament.  The team had dropped out of hyperspace and were hiding from the droid control ship behind the planet, ready to attack when the Queen gave her signal.    

Which brought Obi-Wan to the third part – sky jumping from the ships to the roof of the palace rather than attempting to make their way through the secret passages into Theed.

Obi-Wan peeked down. 

The ships were staying out of range of the droids which meant they were very high up.  The palace looked like the size of a postage stamp.

It wasn’t a large jump – he’d done worse.  He looked across to the Naboo ship.  He wasn’t surprised to see Padmé leading the first group.  The Naboo guards had indicated they had jump equipment on board, individual gliders which fitted over the shoulders and arms.  Obi-Wan was still poised to assist anyone who fell rather than jumped.

Padmé looked over to him and nodded.  She raised her hand and he realised she was talking into the comms device, sending the go command to the Alderaans. 

Feemor took a breath beside him and stepped off the ramp as though he was going for a walk.

Quin quirked an eyebrow upward and leaped.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and jumped.  He controlled his descent perfectly and landed beside Quin with barely a puff of dust.  He immediately unclipped his ‘sabre. 

“No droids on the rooftops,” Feemor noted.

“Keep watch, please,” Obi-Wan said.  “Quin and I will play catch with the Naboo.”

The Naboo were beginning to jump above them, circling like birds in the sky as they guided themselves to the tiny landing platform of the roof. 

Obi-Wan steered some of those straying to safety; Quin doing the same next to him. 

They’d just floated the last guard to the roof when the droids finally noticed them.

Feemor blocked the first blaster shot easily with a flick of his green ‘sabre.  Obi-Wan froze the next one mid-air and dropped it harmlessly to the ground.

“Form up!” Padmé yelled.  “GO!”

Everyone on the roof scattered into three groups. 

Obi-Wan ran to Rabé’s side; she was dressed as the Queen.

Feemor went with Padmé and Quin saluted Obi-Wan jauntily as he joined the third group which had Eirtaé, also dressed in Amidala’s finery.

Two of the groups were playing diversion.  Quin’s stayed on the roof, running towards the hangar while Obi-Wan’s went to the ground to engage with the droids.  Feemor with Padmé would have the task of finding and capturing the Viceroy.

Obi-Wan hit the ground long before the others started to abseil using their guns and a grappling mechanism.  He protected his group. 

He started to destroy the droids with easy swings and stabs of his lightsabre, interspersed with Force deflections of blaster fire back to the droids, and the occasional crumpling of a droid with the Force.

He kept his breaths even; he kept his mind focused on the present.

He wasn’t in the past.  He wasn’t in the middle of the Clone Wars and fighting the Separatists. 

He was still lethal in a way that he hadn’t been the week before on the streets of Naboo (years before). 

Their street was clear before the first Naboo finished abseiling. 

Rabé gave him a look of admiration and pointed to a door.  “This way.”

They ran through a series of corridors on the ground level of the palace without any opposition before they hit another set of droids. 

The Naboo ranged themselves behind pillars and began shooting their blasters.  Obi-Wan walked headlong into the approaching droids, his deadly lightsabre arching through the air with ferocious accuracy.

Cody would have yelled at him for being reckless, Obi-Wan mused, as he flipped over a droid and sliced its head off even as he redirected a blaster bolt meant to kill him.

The corridor was clear again.

Rabé directed them to a staircase.  Obi-Wan Force jumped to the next level and took on the small cadre of droids protecting the floor.

“Are you going to leave any for us?” asked one of the young guards breathlessly.

“We don’t care if he kills them all,” Rabé said tersely.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard spluttered.

Rabé sniffed.  “This way.”

They pelted down another corridor.  There was a smashed-out window on one side.  Obi-Wan felt Feemor’s presence ahead of them.  The doorway to the throne room was open, droids protecting the Viceroy who had as expected ‘captured’ Padmé.

“The Queen!” Nute Gunray gestured frantically at the sight of Rabé in his eyeline.  “After her!”

Rabé ran to the left, Obi-Wan held back to start destroying the droids, but they led them away from the throne room where Padmé would hopefully have turned the tables on the Viceroy somehow.

They clattered down a staircase to a large open corridor and made for a door…

Obi-Wan frowned.

A warning.

He spun around and…

A cloaked masked figure stood in the middle of the empty space.  The mask was a black helmet, not unlike Vader’s, perhaps more like the Knights of Ren.  The rest of the tall body was outfitted head to toe unrelenting black, a sweeping black cape hanging over his shoulders.

“Knight Kenobi!” Rabé began to make her way back to him.

A red lightsabre lit up. 

Obi-Wan waved her off.  “GO!  I’ll deal with this.”

Rabé didn’t hesitate; she turned and ran, the rest of the group following.

“Kenobi,” the deep voice synthesiser was more natural than Vader’s, unencumbered it seemed by breathing apparatus. 

There was a heavy sense of age and experience in the voice which worried Obi-Wan; this wasn’t a barely adult Zabrak desperate to prove himself.  Five Masters had been sent against Sidious and died – and this was his Master.

:Quin, Feemor – I need you:  

The thought was accompanied by a picture of what he was facing.

Obi-Wan held his lightsabre in the traditional tight vertical hold, the beam lighting his face in its blue hue.  “Darth Plagueis, I presume.”

“Interesting,” Plagueis said, “I had hoped Sidious’ pet project would have had more discretion at least.”

Right.  Obi-Wan wasn’t meant to know the Master’s name.

“I admit I’m confused,” Obi-Wan said, trying to divert the topic, “why are you here?  Isn’t this Sidious’ play?”

“His mess,” Plagueis bit out.  “I am not here to save his wretched plan.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

The red lightsabre stayed still despite the anger foaming in the Force around the black figure.

“Sidious has served his purpose,” Plagueis stated darkly.  “He has failed me one too many times.  You, on the hand, rid me of his worthless apprentice.”

Oh.  So, this was…

“Join me, Kenobi,” Plagueis offered, “and become the Sith you were always meant to be.”

“You came to recruit me,” Obi-Wan said slowly.

“You can’t have him,” Quin stated loudly from the other end of the corridor, a green lightsabre held in the same fashion as Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan hid his relief and worry at the presence of his friend. 

Plagueis ignored the Kiffar as though he was of no consequence.  “The Force shows me you are the key to the future, Kenobi; the only hope of the Jedi.  Renounce them; take your place by my side and we rule together.”

Obi-Wan felt a nudge from Feemor; he was poised on the stairs above, silent and hidden.

“I belong with the Jedi,” Obi-Wan replied bluntly, his fingers tightening on his sabre hilt.

“So be it,” Plagueis swept a hand through the air, yanking Feemor down the stairs to land in a heap.

Quin charged from behind, Obi-Wan from the front…

Plagueis’ sabre snapped to meet their blades in quick succession.

The Sith Master was truly brilliant with his lightsabre, deft on his feet, none of his moves were wasted.  Each blow sang with Dark Force energy.

Obi-Wan was held on the defensive – barely able to bring his lightsabre into play, his Mastery of the defensive style Soresu the only reason he was able to parry against each strike.

There was no question Plagueis was going to kill him – each blow had lethal intent.  In comparison, Plagueis looked to be playing with Quin, simply keeping him at bay. 

Quin managed to get close but…Plagueis swept out an arm and threw Quin back down the corridor, sending him crashing into a pillar.  He dropped to the floor unconscious.

Obi-Wan swiped at Plagueis wildly, drawing the Sith’s attention back to him.  “I will never join you!”

The windows exploded around them.

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and sent up a whirl of Force as a shield, but a shard clipped the side of his temple.

Plagueis’ sabre descended on him and he barely got his own up in time to block the blow and…

Feemor’s blade struck at the Sith…

Plagueis’ deflected it with his free hand, blocking the blow before it could land.

Feemor danced in front of Obi-Wan giving him time to get to his feet and rejoin. 

The duel was a clash of blades.

Obi-Wan was impressed with his brother; Feemor was focused, determined.  His jaw set, his brown eyes hard.  Every strike was precision, every move considered.  It was a masterclass in lightsabre skill.

Plagueis’ hand shot out, lightning crackling across the black glove, it shot towards Feemor and…

Obi-Wan intercepted it, body arching in agony as he fell to the floor.  He barely held onto his lightsabre…

The energy cut off abruptly.

Feemor moved in on Plagueis driving him back and…no.  The Sith was leading him, Obi-Wan realised breathlessly, climbing to his feet and…

Plagueis spun, a hand squeezing on nothing but air. 

Feemor gasped, choking, he stumbled badly.

Plagueis’ lightsabre flashed out and took his legs.   

“NO!” Obi-Wan stepped forward and…

Plagueis whirled around and stabbed Quin who had been sneaking up behind him.

Quin’s shocked eyes met Obi-Wan’s as the lightsabre slid out of him and Quin slumped to the floor.

Obi-Wan raised his own lightsabre once more as Plagueis turned to face him.

“It is over, Kenobi,” Plagueis said.  “You are alone.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. 

Images of Rey struggling to her feet, her desperate plea through the Force – be with me. 

:Be with me:  

The Force surrounded him; renewed him.  He felt Yoda’s calm, the strength and stubbornness of the Skywalker twins, the sheer power of Ben and Rey’s Force dyad; he felt the resoluteness of the thousands of Jedi who had gone before them.

“I am never alone,” Obi-Wan said.  He threw out his hand, yanked the lightsabre from Plagueis and sent it scuttling out of the broken window.

Plagueis snarled.  Force lightning leaped to his fingertips and crackled through the air.

Obi-Wan’s blade met it.  He stepped forward.

:Be with me:

Yoda beside him.  Luke and Leia guarding his back.  Ben and Rey holding his hands, steadying his blade. 

Plagueis pushed more lightning.

Obi-Wan took another step.

:Be with me:

A thousand and more Jedi filling him with Light.

Plagueis’ alarm sang through the Force.

A twist of Obi-Wan’s blade…the lightning shot back at Plagueis, crackled over his body.  The Sith screamed and twisted and…

Obi-Wan struck.

The helmet clattered across the floor and the body fell, twisted and smoking.

Obi-Wan lowered his lightsabre; the blade extinguished.

:May the Force be with you, Ben.  We’ll see you again:

Luke’s voice whispered through his mind and faded away. 

Gone.

The Ghosts were gone. 

The future had irrevocably changed with Obi-Wan’s defeat of Plagueis.

Quin moaned, shattering Obi-Wan’s grief into splinters, and he returned abruptly to the reality of where he was and what had happened.

Obi-Wan staggered forward, pausing to check on Feemor.  His Jedi brother was unconscious, but his pulse was steady.  His legs had been cauterised by the blade and he was in no danger of bleeding out – just of dying of the shock and trauma and pain.

He limped the rest of the way to Quin, almost collapsing beside him.  He gathered Quin into his lap, smoothed a hand over Quin’s dreadlocks.

“D’anshari,” Quin whispered, raising his hand to cup Obi-Wan’s cheek.

Obi-Wan gave a choked sob as he assessed Quin’s injury.  It wasn’t as bad as Qui-Gon’s had been.  It was similar, he realised, to the wound Rey had given Ben in their final fight – the wound she had healed.

He placed his palm over the smoking hole in Quin’s body.  He closed his eyes.  “Help me,” he begged the Force, “please.”

The faint glow of a dragon’s hand formed over his own, guided him, let the Living Force flow through him and into Quin.

Quin arched as his body began to mend, flesh reforming, blood flowing anew, skin growing and sealing…he would live.  Quin’s eyes rolled up and he passed out, a heavy weight against Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan felt a wave of dizziness.

“Knight Kenobi!” Padmé ran up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  Her eyes looked frantically around the corridor and the mess of battle.  Panaka, who’d followed her, glared at the headless corpse.

“Have we won?” croaked Obi-Wan. 

“We won,” Padmé confirmed.

“Medics,” Obi-Wan gasped, “we need medics.” 

And another wave of black took him under.

o-O-o

The party waiting for the transports was subdued. 

Feemor was drugged into unconsciousness, laid out on a gurney with a plethora of medical equipment around him.  Quin was in a hoverchair; he’d broken his right leg when he’d been smashed into the pillar and he was suffering from a severe concussion.  Adi was on her feet, but her left arm was in a brace and sling.  She had a bad case of Force exhaustion. 

Obi-Wan stubbornly stood beside his fellow Jedi albeit with a wooden cane to help support him.  There was a new scar on his temple from where the glass had hit him, and a second on his left leg – a glancing lightsabre swipe he hadn’t noticed in the heat of battle.  His fatigue was left over from the lightning blow and the channelling of so much Force energy.

Wounded, but alive.

Obi-Wan remembered the grief of losing his Master the first time around only too well.

Next to the huddle of Jedi were a huddle of Naboo.  Padmé was decked out in an ivory and black dress with matching headpiece, her handmaidens in their orange robes arraigned around her.  Captain Panaka and two of the guard stood protectively behind them.

The sight of the approaching ships eased some of the tension out of Obi-Wan’s frame.  Force, but he wanted off Naboo.

The Chancellor’s ship landed first.  Palpatine swept down the ramp with a small cadre of Coruscant guard and administrators following in his wake like ducklings.  He greeted his Queen first.

“My dear,” Palpatine smiled warmly, “congratulations on your victory.  The reports were intriguing.  However did you manage to get the Alderaan Space Force to assist us?”

“Knight Kenobi made the arrangements,” Padmé replied coolly.  “We are grateful for their assistance in destroying the droid control ship.”

Apparently, that had happened at the same time as Obi-Wan had been decapitating Plagueis in the corridor.

“Indeed,” Palpatine soothed, before turning to greet Obi-Wan who gave a short bow to forestall any attempt to clasp his hand again.  “My dear Knight Kenobi, I have so much to thank you for, where do I start?”

Obi-Wan attempted a smile.  “The Jedi live to serve, Supreme Chancellor, and this was most definitely a team effort.” He introduced the others briskly. 

Adi politely nodded at Palpatine, her dark eyes scouring over him.  “May we congratulate you on your appointment, Supreme Chancellor?”

“Thank you,” Palpatine beamed at her.  “I hope to bring much-needed change to the Republic.” He glanced around and suddenly seemed to take in the medical paraphernalia.  “Are the injured to be transported back to Coruscant so soon?”

“Yes, we are,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “We’ll heal better in the temple.”

“Ah, shame,” Palpatine said, “I was hoping to take you to dinner.”

Quin coughed loudly.

“All of you, of course, as a thank you,” Palpatine said.  “Perhaps when I return to Coruscant we can make arrangements?”

Adi saved him answering, providing a polite agreement. 

Palpatine swept away with an escort from the Queen’s guard and household as the Jedi medical transport landed.

Poof and Mace exited briskly.  Master Vokara Che was at their heels with more healers following her.  She ignored all protocols and headed straight for Feemor.

Poof and Mace bowed to Padmé.

“Your Highness,” Mace said, “on behalf of the Jedi Council, we congratulate you on your victory.”

“Thank you,” Padmé replied.  “We are grateful for the assistance the Jedi have provided to us in this endeavour.” She paused.  For the first time since they’d met, she looked young and uncertain.  “I am dismayed that your people were so injured in the defence of mine.”

“You are not responsible for the actions of the enemy,” Mace said diplomatically.  “Our medical transport will refuel and do an immediate turnaround to Coruscant.  Master Poof and I will remain to investigate the Darksider who attacked and represent the Jedi in the planned celebration and remembrance ceremonies.”

Padmé nodded.  She turned to the four Jedi beside her.  Her eyes skimmed over Feemor who was in the midst of Che’s examination.  “There is nothing I can say to convey the depths of our gratitude.  Know that you will always be considered friends of the Naboo.  I wish you a speedy recovery.  May the Force be with you.”

Obi-Wan and Adi bowed to her while Quin smiled.

“Knight Kenobi,” Padmé said hurriedly, “please be assured that I have not forgotten the unfinished business on Tatooine that we spoke about during the ship repairs.  Rabé will return shortly.  I will keep you apprised of our progress.”

Obi-Wan’s smile was genuinely happy.  “Please.”  He left unspoken that Anakin would be over the moon if she was successful in getting his mother freed.  He wondered if he could sneak the information about Shmi’s home planet to them so they could return her there.  The temple on Ashki had been beautiful.

Padmé smiled back at him.  She motioned to her entourage and the majority left. 

Eirtaé bowed.  “Master Jedi, I will wait by the hangar entrance to escort you to the palace once you have finished your goodbyes.”

Mace thanked her.  He waited until she’d left before speaking again.  “Vokara?”

“Knight Popu is stable,” Che confirmed.  She signalled to her team to move him to the ship.  Her eyes raked over Obi-Wan, Adi and Quin.  “I’ll triage you three when we’re on our way.”

“Works for me,” Quin quipped.

She sniffed and went after her unconscious patient.

Mace turned to them.  “Adi, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but…”

“Good to see you too, Mace,” Adi glanced between him and Poof.  She raised an eyebrow. “You’ll tell me more when I need to know, I suspect,” she stated briskly.  “Enjoy the ceremonies.  Obi-Wan, Quin…I’ll see you in the ship.”

Mace breathed a sigh as she moved out of hearing range.  “What can you tell us of the Sith?”

Obi-Wan grimaced.  “He identified as Darth Plagueis.  He turned up to, uh…”

“He wanted Obi-Wan,” Quin cut in.  “Made a whole pitch.”

“You killed a Sith his own apprentice trained,” Poof stated.  “You must have intrigued him.”  

“I’d quite like to not be intriguing to Sith for a while,” Obi-Wan said plaintively.  He shook his head.  “He wasn’t pleased with Sidious.” 

Mace tilted his head.  “You know it’s likely that Sidious will focus on you more.  You just did him a massive favour.”

Obi-Wan winced at that but it was true. 

“Can’t we decapitate him now?” Quin asked impatiently.  “I mean, weren’t we just waiting for him to kill Old Plague face?”

“Plots within plots, Quin,” Obi-Wan reminded him.  “Better the evil we know.  We can do a lot to upend all of Sidious’ plans.”  He sighed and turned back to Mace.  “We recovered the lightsabre.  It’s with the body.”

Mace reached out and grasped Obi-Wan’s shoulder, even as his gaze darted down to meet Quin’s.  “You destroyed a Sith.  You’ve removed their evil from doing more harm.  You deserve the parade but…”

“Pass,” Quin said.  “I just want to sleep and stop seeing double.”

“Hard pass,” Obi-Wan agreed.  “Sleep sounds good to me.”

“Then we will take it from here,” Poof said confidently.  “Focus on recovering, both of you.”

Their goodbyes said.  Obi-Wan walked with Quin to the ship.  It was time to go home.

o-O-o

“I hate not flying when we land,” Quin complained.

“You can barely see straight still,” Obi-Wan pointed out dryly.  “All of us are not at our best.” 

Although after the enforced rest of the journey, he was feeling much better and was hoping to be released to his own quarters.  Even if that meant he wouldn’t be cuddled up to Quin to sleep.  Che had simply rolled her eyes at them when she’d discovered them in the same bed.  He knew he and Quin weren’t the only ones finding comfort in cuddling together.  He’d seen Adi and Che huddled together every evening on the couch in the rec area.

“I’d argue that, but I don’t have a leg to stand on,” Feemor quipped from his medical gurney.

The three of them burst into giggles at the inappropriate humour.

Adi huffed a long-suffering sigh, but her eyes were bright with mischief.  “I’d smack you, but I find myself unarmed.” She looked pointedly at her braced arm still in its sling.

They were chuckling when they felt the minor bump to signal they were home.

Obi-Wan let the warmth of all the Jedi alive and well in the temple fill him up.  It was still a wondrous new experience after his years in the desert (familiar as breathing, home).

Master Che ushered them out with brisk efficiency and straight into the Halls of Healing.  They’d used the medical landing pad, Obi-Wan belatedly realised, as he took in the Coruscant evening twilight, backlit with the city’s artificial light.

Obi-Wan was quickly checked and released.  His main problem was fatigue and everyone agreed he’d rest better in his own bed.

He popped his head into Quin’s room to find him still in the midst of tests with Tholme and Aalya hovering anxiously at the side of his bed.  Obi-Wan smiled at the sight of them and their evident love and concern for Quin.  He backed out with soft wave of love-farewell to Quin through the Force. 

He headed in the direction of Yoda’s rooms.  He’d check in on Anakin, he determined.

As befitting the Grand Master of the Order, Yoda had a spacious apartment in one of the towers.  The top floor had been turned into an environment comfortable for Yoda’s species; lots of green plants, soaking pools, and a warm mud bath.  The lower floor has been outfitted with an office for Yoda’s work, a private meditation space, a small guest room, and a large open plan reception, kitchen, and a dining area.

Obi-Wan chimed the bell.  He didn’t have to wait long before the door opened and Yoda gestured him inside.

“Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan started to frown as he realised Anakin wasn’t present.

“Performed his placement tests, he did, shields himself, he does,” Yoda said, “in the Initiate dorm, young Skywalker is.  Follow your suggestion, the Council will.”

Obi-Wan felt blindsided.  Anakin was going to an Initiate?  It felt odd not to have him as his padawan but…he could feel the Force’s approval.  This was the right path.

“Come,” Yoda ushered him toward the table, “visit him, we will, but first dine with me, you must.”

“That’s very kind of you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said diplomatically as he took his seat, assuming a cross-legged position on one side of the lowered table. 

Yoda hummed as he sat cross-legged across from Obi-Wan.

A dish of stew floated over to him along with freshly baked bread.  It set itself down in front of him, wafting up the delicious scent of slow cooked nerf meat, tender root vegetables and tubers.  A second plate floated over for Yoda which looked to be all meat.   

Yoda motioned for him to begin.  “Eat, Obi-Wan,” he said kindly, “rest.”

He set about filling his stomach, suddenly aware of how hungry he was.  The silence was comfortable, safe.  Obi-Wan had a second serving before he pushed his empty plate aside with murmured gratitude.

A tea-set floated over and the crisp scent of a floral blend Yoda preferred had Obi-Wan automatically relaxing.  He cupped his hand around the bowl and breathed it in. 

Yoda sipped his tea.  “Completed his review, Master Koon did.”

Obi-Wan lowered his drink.

“Specialised mind-healing, Qui-Gon requires,” Yoda said.  “Healers of Kab’ere temple, most qualified, gone to them, he has.”

“He said he was possessed,” Obi-Wan noted.

Yoda nodded.  “Text revealing similar possession as experiment, Master Nu found.  Evidence in his mind, there was.”  His ears drooped.  “Worrying behaviour before possession, it revealed.”  He looked over at Obi-Wan.  “Apologies owed to you are, Obi-Wan.  Many issues in the crèche, in the Initiate teaching, in the Council’s oversight of your Master and treatment of you, Master Koon revealed.”

Obi-Wan took a sip of the tea before replying.  “How will the Council address these issues?”

“For the personal harm to you from our neglect, an apology is given,” Yoda said.  “Corrected, your record has been.  Bullying you suffered, but addressed it was not.  Challenged your Master badly, you did, but leave the Order on Melida/Daan because of attachment, you did not.  Unfair the probation was, stricken it is.  Into the official record, your padawan reports have been entered.  Censured Master Jinn has been.  Ordered changes in the crèche and Initiate teaching, the Council has.  A mind healer, we wish you to seek.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly.  “I’m glad there’ll be changes.”  He side-stepped the suggestion of the mind healer, although since Che had mentioned it because of the Naboo battle, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get out of seeing one.

“Approach you for your view, Master Koon may,” Yoda said.  He caught Obi-Wan’s gaze.  “Apology I owe you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan could sense what was coming; the memory of having the same conversation with Yoda’s ghost flickered through his mind.

“Worried about Qui-Gon, I was,” Yoda explained, almost word for word as he had before.  “Balance him you would, I sensed.”  His ears were almost flat.  “Meddled I did.  Blind I was to the harm I did you.”

“I forgive you,” Obi-Wan said.  “You were well-intentioned.”  He smiled sharply at the Grand Master.  “It will make for a good lesson on how even the wisest of Jedi needs to trust more in the Force when you tell the crèchelings.”

Yoda’s eyes shone with amusement even as he harrumphed.  He pointed a claw at Obi-Wan.  “Creative punishment this is.  Accept it I will.”

Obi-Wan smiled.

“Come,” Yoda got up, summoning his stick, “go now we will or sneak out of the dorm Skywalker will.”  He made a familiar motion as Obi-Wan straightened.

Obi-Wan gracefully stooped to let the Grand Master travel on his shoulder.

The temple’s low lighting signalled it was late.  All of the younglings were expected to be asleep or in their dorms.  Yoda quietly chatted away about Anakin’s placement tests as they made their way through the empty corridors in the Initiate wing.

Master Khot greeted them by the entry to the dorm tower.  The Y’tak’s twelve tentacles were handy for corralling youngsters.  His multiple eyes landed on Obi-Wan and he sighed.  Obi-Wan was pleased he was with Yoda.  He figured the Initiate Master was unlikely to allow him entry otherwise.

“Try not to keep them up too late,” Khot huffed.  “Skywalker is in Clan Wookie.”

Clan Wookie’s dorm was only a floor up and Obi-Wan knelt before they got to the door to allow Yoda to hop off.  He was glad to hear the chatter of happy children drifting out of the open doorway.  He poked his head in and…

Anakin’s head immediately swivelled around.  “OBI-WAN!”  He launched off his bed and ran over to throw himself at Obi-Wan.

He caught Anakin and hugged him.  “Hello, there.”

The other children gazed at them with open mouths and wide-eyes.

“You’re back!” Anakin said, tightening his hold on Obi-Wan.

“I am,” Obi-Wan said, “and Master Yoda tells me you did well on your tests.”

Anakin beamed, shooting a brief look of thanks at Yoda.  “Aayla and I tried to get a ship to come to Naboo, but they caught us.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched.  He glanced at Yoda who looked serenely back at him. 

“Master Yoda made us do handstands as a punishment,” Anakin confided.  “It was weird.”

“What did your Mom do when she had to punish you?” asked Obi-Wan.

Anakin’s small face scrunched up.  “She’d make me sit in the corner without my tech to think about my actions.” Comprehension dawned on his face that the handstands had aimed to provide a similar ‘think about it’ punishment.  “Oh.”

Since Anakin showed no sign of releasing him, Obi-Wan carried him over to his bed. 

“But I was meant to go with you,” Anakin complained.  “The Force said so.”

“Hmmm,” Obi-Wan sat down and Anakin squirmed into a comfortable position on his lap to cuddle.  

He thought for a moment how to approach the discussion because a part of him did feel guilty for leaving Anakin behind in the safety of the temple and denying him the opportunity to save Naboo as he had before.  Years of contemplating things in the desert came in handy.

“What have you learned about the Dark Side of the Force since your arrival here?”  Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin pursed his lips.  “There is one?”

“I know! I know!” An orange Twi’lek put her hand up, jumping on the bed opposite Anakin’s.  “It’s bad!”

A young boy with dark hair sat on the next bed along from Anakin’s.  “Master Lifo said the Dark Side makes you angry all the time.”

“Sith use the Dark side,” said a girl with green eyes, large feline ears and patchy fur.  She was clutching onto a chocolate Wookie fabric toy.

Obi-Wan held up a hand, sensing Anakin was getting distressed at the idea the others knew more than him.  “There is truth in all your answers.”  He gave Anakin a comforting squeeze.  “You’ll all learn more as you get older, but I would share one truth with you now.”

The children all leaned in closer.

“The Dark Side will lie to you,” Obi-Wan said firmly.  “It will whisper in your ear and tell you things you want to hear to make you do things you shouldn’t do.”

“Like tell me I should go to Naboo?” asked Anakin, catching onto Obi-Wan’s point quickly.

“Just like that,” Obi-Wan said, poking Anakin gently in the side and making him giggle and squirm.

“But he just wanted to help you!” The Twi’lek said.  “Right, Ani?”

Anakin nodded his head furiously. “Right, Lollo.”

“Ani has a big heart,” Obi-Wan agreed as Anakin flushed red.  “But that’s the danger of the Dark Side.  It lies and tells you that doing the wrong thing for a good reason is right when it’s not.”

“Dangerous the Dark Side is,” Yoda chipped in.  He’d climbed up onto the bed nearest the door, much to the delight of the small pink Mon Calamari occupant.  “Careful we must be that we do not listen to it.” He flapped his ears.  “Easy it is to make mistakes.  Learn from them we must.” 

Anakin heaved a sigh. “It’s so complicated.”

Obi-Wan grinned and tugged on a tendril of hair.  “It’ll get easier.” 

There was a cough by the door.  Khot peered in with a look.

“I think it’s time for bed, younglings,” Obi-Wan said.  He nudged Anakin off his lap and towards the pillows. 

Anakin gave another sigh, but he clambered under the covers, pulling a green fabric Wookie of his own close. 

The other children started to do the same with a murmur of disappointment.

“Could we have a story, Knight Obi?” Lollo asked plaintively as she snuggled into her blankets, casting a pleading glance towards the door.

Knight Obi?

Yoda looked entirely too gleeful at the nickname.

“Uh…” Obi-Wan looked back to Khot.

“One story,” Khot agreed, “but then, Knight Obi must leave.” He turned to Yoda.  “Would you like a lift downstairs, Master Yoda?”

Yoda sniffed from his position at the end of the youngling’s bed. “Staying I am.  Hear Knight Obi’s story, I wish.”   

Yes.  He was never hearing the end of that nickname.

Obi-Wan sighed and sat down on the end of Anakin’s bed.  He searched for a story and… 

“A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, where the Sith ruled through an evil Empire,” Obi-Wan began, “there lived an orphaned farm boy on a distant planet who was strong in the Force.  He was called Luke and Luke dreamed of being a great pilot like his father before him…”

o-O-o

Yoda was quiet all the way back to his rooms. 

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but Obi-Wan had the feeling his story had caught Yoda’s attention.  Not that he’d told the whole tale.  He’d barely gotten through Luke rescuing the brave droid sent to get help by the beautiful and sassy Princess Leia and realising Old Ben was a Jedi Knight before the soft snores of the children had filled the room.

Yoda leaped down as they reached the door.  He paused as he opened the door with a touch of Force and looked back at Obi-Wan.  “Your story…a vision, you had?  Luke and Leia; exist they will?”

“Perhaps, but hopefully not living in a Sith Empire,” Obi-Wan smiled sadly, thinking of the ghosts he’d felt fading away on Naboo.  “As you say, Grand Master, always in motion, the future is.”

Yoda hummed.  “Sleep well, you will, Knight Obi.”  He was cackling as he entered his rooms.

Obi-Wan sighed at the shut door and repressed the urge to make a rude gesture.  Tiredness rolled through him like a tidal wave and he headed back to his own room.

He was half-way through the door when he realised Quin was in his bed.

Quin was in his bed.

Quin was waiting for him in his bed.

He thought about how bereft he’d felt without Quin, how lonely and…

“Obi-Wan?” Quin called out sleepily.  “Do you know how much I had to bribe Tholme and Bant to help me…” 

Obi-Wan crossed the room as Quin started talking, barely remembering to send a nudge of Force to close the door before he clambered onto his bed and kissed Quin mid-sentence.

Quin was not an idiot.  He slid a hand into Obi-Wan’s copper hair and held him as they kissed and kissed…

Eventually, Quin settled back against the pillow with a smug look.  “Told you you’d kiss me when the mission was over.”

Obi-Wan laughed, emotion rippling through him.  Joy and love and…the Force sang happily around him.

“Come to bed,” Quin coaxed.  “I can’t do the Thing because Bant will kill me if I do anything but sleep and she will know.” 

“The Thing will wait,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

He’d rather have Quin completely healthy before they tried anything more athletic in the bed beyond kissing.  He stripped off and dived under the covers to spoon up behind Quin who snuggled into him with a happy sigh.  The lights went out with a thought through the Force.

Quin slid an arm over Obi-Wan’s, his fingers tangling into Obi-Wan’s.  “Go to sleep, d’anshari.”

Obi-Wan kissed Quin’s broad shoulder.  He snuggled into the warmth of Quin’s body and closed his eyes.  There was so much more to do to make sure the future changed…but it could wait.  He’d sleep first. 

And in the morning, the first thing Obi-Wan would do to change the future would be to kiss Quin some more.

fin.