FicWad

While Master Yoda diligently reads over the reports generated in response to the Battle of Coruscant and Master Kenobi silently studies the hastily made, incomplete report detailing the truncated attempt to seek out Darth Sidious, Haruun Kal Jedi Master Mace Windu pretends to peruse reports that he has actually already read while secretly meditating upon the dangerous latticework of shatterpoints binding the Supreme Chancellor to Anakin Skywalker and the boy to Obi-Wan Kenobi. He also unobtrusively studies Master Kenobi, more worried than ever by the changes in the young Jedi Master and his former Padawan apprentice, the obviously increasing and strengthening closeness of their already highly unusual relationship. More even than the ominous, incalculable tangle of precariously balanced and yet staggeringly powerful fault lines and stress fractures that bind those three - Palpatine and Anakin and Obi-Wan - so closely together, the Korun Master is, for reasons that he cannot, as yet, make come entirely clear to himself, even more troubled by the strengthening partnership and increasingly close relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin. There's just something about it, something about the way the two behave together, that strikes him as being not quite right. And the fact that he can neither pin down just what it is about their behavior that's wrong nor even truly rationalize to himself why he is so certain that there is a serious threat, not just to those two individual Jedi but to the whole of the Jedi Order as well, to the Jedi Code and myriad traditions that give shape and meaning to the Jedi way of life, concealed somehow in the changing nature of their unique and wholly improbable relationship, unnerves him so deeply, terrifies him so completely, that Mace Windu feels as if he were balanced so precariously upon the edge of an abyss that even the hint of a wrong movement would be enough to topple him - and the Order - into unending darkness.

Mace Windu is well aware of the fact that whatever it is about their relationship that so inexplicably, inexpressibly, and inescapably strikes him as being wrong, it is not something sexual. Or at least it is not something that is naturally or purely sexual. He humiliated himself and wronged Master Kenobi terribly, discovering that for himself, the hard way. In spite of the way that they look at each other, despite the way they have always so eagerly and easily sought comfort in one another's company and in touch, and regardless of the way they so obviously live for one another, functioning more and more as an inseparable unit, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are not and never have been lovers, though they have, over the course of their thirteen plus years together, oftentimes shared the same bed, and continue to sleep together on occasion, especially while they are deployed on missions meant to help the Republic to win and the Order to end the Clone Wars. Mace Windu knows all of these things to be perfectly factually true, as he has been allowed intimate, open access to the mind and memories of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and it would have been impossible for the young Jedi Master to lie to him or deceive him about such things during such a sharing of minds. Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of the always extremely few and now increasingly rare Jedi who has lived his life as a wholly chaste being. As a youngling in the crèche, Obi-Wan made the decision to utterly sacrifice the pleasures of the flesh, and so he has lived his entire life without ever once knowing the distraction of sexuality or running the risk of becoming inappropriately and unacceptably attached to some being because of sexual attraction. If it were not for the fact that Master Windu knows that these things are undeniably true, though, he would never be able to believe them.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is . . . different, somehow. He has always been different, always stood out, always been just not quite completely normal, either among the ranks of his peers or even in comparison to his elders within the Order. A "child of Coruscant," one of the heartbreaking but thankfully few Force-sensitive babies unfortunately born among individuals who abhor and/or fear Force-talent, by the time Obi-Wan had been abandoned to the Order, he had been so badly abused - starved and severely beaten for seemingly every single manifestation of Force-talent - that the Healers had feared his health might never recover and the Soul Healers had been almost certain that he would never fully recover either his ability to trust others or to believe that his Force-sensitivity could be used for good. Discovered and saved by an often impetuous, overly compassionate Jedi Knight by the name of Qui-Gon Jinn, who'd always been so closely attuned to the Living Force that he was often prompted by his understanding of the Force and his own instincts to go against the decisions of the High Council (which are almost always all thoroughly rooted in the Unifying Force), Obi-Wan had been rushed to the Temple at Coruscant amidst such a blaze of righteous fury that Mace Windu can still clearly remember how thoroughly Qui-Gon had disrupted the Temple's peace, how, for the month that he had refused to leave Obi-Wan and the extra week he had remained within the Temple, just to be sure of Obi-Wan's health, the walls had echoed and rang with sorrow and fear for the child and a blaze of indignant rage and disgust for the beings who had so very nearly succeeded in breaking Obi-Wan of his Force-sensitivity by killing him.

Not even Master Yoda and Master Dooku, working together, had been able to fully calm Qui-Gon. Not even the complete recovery of his Padawan learner - who had been quite ill with a new strain of a nasty virus that the Healers had been wary of enough to enforce an extended stay in quarantine - or the combined might of Xanatos, Master Dooku, and Master Yoda had been sufficient to soothe or to cheer Qui-Gon. Xanatos had not taken either his perceived failure or his Master's preoccupation with Obi-Wan very well, and it had been at that moment that Mace Windu had come to share Master Yoda's serious concern over that boy's suitability for the Order. Only the eventual consensus among the Healers that Obi-Wan Kenobi would live and that his health should continue to improve, though his growth would doubtlessly be stunted, and a more optimistic report from the Soul Healers - who had been enormously encouraged by the baby's surprisingly openly sweet nature and his willingness to use his Force-talent to work several of the crèche's games (actually disguised dexterity, intelligence, and Force-sensitivity tests), at the prompting of Qui-Gon, Yoda, and a handful or so other Jedi - had finally decreased Qui-Gon's towering fury. Qui-Gon had been at the Temple with Obi-Wan for a month at that point, and it had been soon afterwards that he (and his visibly sulking and envious Padawan) had finally been assigned a new mission. While Qui-Gon had been preparing to leave, Master Yoda had taken on Obi-Wan as his new project, both to help reassure the child that all was still well and because of his own interest in the boy.

Master Yoda has always been prone to semi-adopting individuals - apparently randomly chosen - from within the Temple, especially since he stopped taking Padawan learners of his own. Jedi Master Thame Cerulian was the last Padawan learner chosen by Master Yoda and, after his untimely death, Yoda had essentially informally adopted Master Cerulian's brilliant and extremely formal teenaged Padawan, Dooku of Serenno, as his own Padawan, mentoring him through the final two years leading up to the boy's successful Trials. Qui-Gon had actually been another one of Yoda's semi-adoptees, an overgrown, accident-prone, irrepressibly cheerful youngling who had effortlessly blazed with the Living Force like a ceaselessly burning beacon apparently from the moment of his birth onward and who had been possessed of a tendency to flit endlessly and erratically from one project of mercy or cheer to the next and then back again, like leaf blown hither, thither, and yon on an indecisive wind. Qui-Gon practically burbled with happiness while Dooku almost chilled with his polite formality. Within the Temple, it had been considered a stroke of particular genius, on Yoda's part, throwing those two together until they had stuck and Dooku had taken on Qui-Gon as his Padawan. There had been a few others who had been taken on by Yoda after Qui-Gon, including Mace, himself, but at the time Obi-Wan was brought to the Temple, the wizened little green Master had failed to take an excessive interest in any of the younglings or Padawans for several of the previous years, so few had been surprised when the Master had taken an interest in Obi-Wan. However, quite a few Jedi - including Mace - had been startled by the degree of Yoda's interest in the child, and the lengths to which the Master had eventually gone to see to it that the boy become Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan.

Obi-Wan's abilities and training within the Temple, especially as a youngling but also as a new Padawan, had been markedly erratic. Almost painfully shy as a young child and bullied by others within the crèche as he neared the age of choosing, the naturally sweet and lovingly open nature Obi-Wan had somehow kept, even during the trials that befell him as a baby, had grown markedly less obvious as the youngling had gradually become increasingly distant and closed off, more and more politely, icily formal, and prone to infrequent outbursts of a temper that ran so hot (and thankfully burned so fast) that Obi-Wan could shock and worry even Master Yoda with an occasional seemingly impossible feat, fueled only by rage and a seemingly suddenly limitless ability to draw upon the Force. The boy had been a genuine prodigy and a natural at certain activities - both theoretical and applied physics and mathematics; all things involving strategy, especially dejarik and variations on the challenging board game; diplomacy; languages; history; and, strangely enough, apparently also anything and everything pertaining to music - but he had either been wholly disinterested by or else had simply struggled with other subjects, especially those dealing with or involving philosophy, natural biology or medicine, and actual combat. Given an open salle and a training 'saber or the chance to practice open-handed defensive combat one-on-one with a trainer who would touch him only sparingly, Obi-Wan was a virtuoso whose agility, speed, and sheer ability to intuit the proper sequences of moves for katas and lightsaber forms that he had no formal training in whatsoever could shock and awe even the most accomplished of trainers or fighters. But if put in the same training salle against a peer, with a ring of casual onlookers, Obi-Wan almost always gained feet of lead and a body that suddenly refused to move as it was told to.

Much of the same pattern held true for most of Obi-Wan's abilities with the Force. Much more strongly telepathic than most Jedi, Master Yoda had been forced to work with Obi-Wan on establishing shields from a very young age, just so he could keep all of the random thoughts and daydreams of others out of his head. However, the simple shields taught to him by Yoda had, unfortunately, immediately blossomed into barriers of such amazing complexity and unyielding all-encompassivity that it essentially became impossible for any Jedi to really get a proper handle on or read of Obi-Wan. His shields simply could not be breached, and only rarely did anything useful slip through or past them. Yet, despite the ability to erect and indefinitely maintain (even when sleeping or unconscious) shields the strength of which even a Master would have been hard pressed to match, in all of his classes, Obi-Wan's ability to use the Force remained, in the main, extremely average. Outside Outside of class, though, Obi-Wan could sometimes be known to shed his mediocrity in the performance of feats that not even Master Yoda would try to reproduce. For example, one morning, the then three-year-old Obi-Wan had been found in a room a few levels below the Council Chamber - and no one had been able to determine just how he had gotten there, afterwards - calmly floating hundreds of tiny decorative tiles up off of the floor into a complex whirling, shifting pattern, the multi-hued pieces catching the light from the rising sun and adding to the incredible beauty of dancing kaleidoscopic configuration, the energy patterns created by the Force being used to levitate the tiles a brilliant tapestry of intricately interwoven flows, highlighted by the winking colors of the light-limed tiles. Obi-Wan, apparently, had thought he'd discovered a new game, and wanted Master Yoda's opinion on it before he showed it to Qui-Gon, who was supposed to return from a mission within the week.

At the age of five, Obi-Wan had been found one evening - by none other than Mace himself - dancing within the Bendu Remembrance Wheel with an ignited, fully-powered, fully-operational, multi-crystal lightsaber. Mace still sometimes dreams of discovering Obi-Wan there, of the indigo radiance of the lightsaber blade as it stitched through the surprisingly black darkness of the chamber - it had been true night, and Obi-Wan had somehow, for some reason, found a way to disable the lights in the entire Bendu Remembrance Wheel, both in the central hub of the rotunda that made up the Hall of Remembrance and the eight-armed array of the passageways that was the Wall of Remembrance - with long sweeps, rising in infinitely graceful arcs before darting quickly back down again. The design being painted against the welling darkness had been intricately lovely, but it began to fade almost as soon as it appeared, leaving behind a strange, fevered mist in its wake. There had been a melodic undertone present, underscoring Obi-Wan's dance in the form of a strangely gentle electric hum. The sound had soared and lowered with such delicate nuance in unison with the brilliant flexes of light that it almost could have been mistaken for a natural voice, or some musical instrument being given voice to guide the youngling's elegant moves.

Mace had stood stock still for several long moments, completely stunned, unable to do anything but watch the slightly oddly tinted glow of the lightsaber as it worked its way through the darkness, able to glimpse snatches of an incredibly young, intensely beautiful face - one that was somehow both intently focused and yet entirely serene - bathed in the blade's glow, eyes washed so darkly blue that they were almost as indigo as the lightsaber blade itself. The fleetly agile dancer had been undeniably human, though incredibly tiny and, therefore, shockingly young, but Mace had been too stunned, at first, to process what he was seeing and feeling - the familiar yet mysterious unplumbable welling depths of a signature that revealed the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi - well enough to understand just who the dancer was - and, hence, just how miraculous the dance was. The swiftly fleeting moments of illumination never quite lasted long enough. They came in swift beats, though not nearly as quick as the lightning cadence that had thundered in Mace's chest. He could see incredibly slender, tiny moon-white hands, curled about and dwarfed by the elegant sweeping curve of the lightsaber's hilt, the occasional flicker of a tensed or straining muscle, and the heavy coil of a thickly plaited braid, fleeting images outlined by a vibrant lattice of 'sabered frozen fire.

The form of the dance had been hauntingly familiar. It was almost - not quite, but almost - that of one of the most advanced katas of the highly difficult and extremely rarely practiced unfinished lightsaber form known as Juyo. Mace Windu recognized a great deal of the graceful, demanding, rapid movements immediately, intimately familiar with Juyo because of the sub-form that he was finishing and perfecting from out of it, Vaapad. He had been so shocked by that recognition that it had taken him longer, perhaps, than it should have - shock or no - to realize that it was Obi-Wan Kenobi who was wielding the lightsaber. When he finally realized who it was, Mace had reached out mentally for Master Yoda and literally screamed, just as loudly as he could, for the ancient Master to come and help him figure out a way to get that lightsaber away from Obi-Wan without hurting him before the youngling could manage to hurt himself. Yoda had arrived within ten minutes - ten of the most agonizingly worried minutes of Mace Windu's life - and the two of them had stood together, watching in stunned amazement, as Obi-Wan brought his strangely familiar dance to a flourishing end so difficult that both of the Jedi Masters would have been hard pressed to imitate it and which was nonetheless perfectly executed by this slip of a five-year-old youngling.

Seeing them watching him after he'd extinguished the lightsaber, Obi-Wan had made a slight twirling gesture with his left hand, bringing the lights back on, and then trotted over to the two Jedi - impossibly seemingly not even the least bit tired or winded by his immensely difficult and lengthy display of lightsaber technique - where he had proudly presented Master Yoda with the unfamiliar, gracefully curving hilt of the lightsaber, proclaiming, "Look what I found, Master Yoda! It was all busted up, but I fixed it. See? It works fine now." And the youngling had been telling them the complete truth, as Mace had discovered after Master Yoda had passed along the entire memory of the discovery of the broken lightsaber, its repair, and its testing, Obi-Wan having lowered his shields and allowed Master Yoda to view the memory of it in his mind. Mace had viewed the entire memory sequence, utterly stunned at the potential hazard of the apparently casually discarded nonfunctional lightsaber - one that had apparently been illicitly made, since neither he nor Yoda were ever able to trace it to its original maker - discovered beneath a bench in the Hall of Remembrance by a curious youngling who had used nothing but the Force to tease the lightsaber hilt apart into its component pieces, affect repairs on the damaged portions, and reassemble the then fully functional multi-crystal blade, all in a little over two hours - a feat that Mace Windu frankly would have thought impossible even for a Master of Yoda's abilities. Obi-Wan had actually used the Force to rebuild a burnt out and shattered violet Ilum crystal, making a whole crystal by reshaping the broken stone at the molecular level, the result being a stone that, in conjunction with two other sapphire colored crystals, had resulted in the strange indigo hue of the lightsaber blade - after which he had danced with the lightsaber all throughout the Bendu Remembrance Wheel, with the lights out, for several hours. If he hadn't seen it himself, Mace Windu would have never believed.

Most of Obi-Wan's overall abilities have always been like that. Erratic or average in the classroom or when knowingly performed within the sight of others, and yet also so unbelievably powerful that many would have claimed them wholly impossible, unless reliably witnessed or seen with one's own eyes (or one's own Force-senses), if they were performed alone or in near-privacy or, later on, whenever they were accomplished in situations of great need. Mace Windu has never forgotten the look of lingering frozen terror and indescribable awe in Qui-Gon's eyes when he had calmly informed the High Council about how his then fifteen-year-old Padawan learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi, had simply automatically reached out into the Force and then caught and held a Corellian Corvette whose engines had stalled after takeoff, saving the ship from crashing into the midst of an extremely crowded, busy spaceport in Anaxes. Whenever Mace Windu thinks on what Obi-Wan Kenobi might have been, what he could have so easily accomplished, if he had not been an inescapably scarred "child of Coruscant," his stomach lurches and turns over within him with a sickening sensation that could be disappointment just as easily as it might have been relief . . . or fear. If it were not for the serious hurts - mental and spiritual as well as physical - Obi-Wan took before being brought to the Temple, Mace Windu would have assumed that Obi-Wan was the Chosen One of Jedi legends. Despite Obi-Wan's obvious scarring, the Korun Master had still half believed that he was the Chosen One, right up until the time Qui-Gon Jinn had brought Anakin Skywalker to the attention of the High Council.

Still, Chosen One or not, Obi-Wan is, undeniably, an extremely powerful Jedi. Despite a habit of almost involuntary restraint and control that has hampered his advancement within the Order all his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi has, nevertheless, grown and learned enough to embrace the Force in more than sufficient amount, ability, and wisdom to earn the title of "Master," and he easily numbers among the ranks of the few most powerful Jedi within the Order, period. It is entirely possible that Obi-Wan might even potentially become one of the two most powerful Jedi within the Order, one day, second only to Anakin. Mace Windu would not like to have to fight against Obi-Wan in any kind of serious battle. He has amassed quite a bit of proof of the way that Obi-Wan's abilities have grown, by leaps and bounds, over the course of this war. He has seen the way Anakin and Obi-Wan have fought each other, in the practice salles, neither one of them able to consistently overpower and defeat the other any longer. Although there have been times when the Korun Master has wondered if it might not have been the best idea to allow Obi-Wan and Anakin to become first Master and Padawan and then Force-partners, to be entirely honest he is almost positive that no other Jedi within the Order - with the possible exception of Master Yoda - would have ever been powerful enough to keep the Chosen One in check. It is one of the few things he can still find contentment and reassurance in, for as improbable and strange as the relationship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker is, it is, without a doubt, the strongest, surest, safest bond that ties Anakin to the Jedi Order, and the one thing in Skywalker's life that he will fight with everything that is in him to protect . . . meaning that Anakin will also do anything to keep Obi-Wan as his Force-partner, including continuing to obey and abide by (at least a majority of the time, if not gracefully) the will and edicts of the Council.

Sometimes, when Mace Windu looks at Obi-Wan, when he sees the deepening lines that sorrow and hardship are carving into the young Jedi Master's forehead and around his mouth, Mace remembers the child Obi-Wan was, the youth he has always seemed to so effortlessly embody - delicate to the point of fragility when very young; small and slender enough to easily merit being described as ethereal for almost all of his time within the crèche, as well as most of his apprenticeship; and so slimly spare and overwhelmingly youthful, in spite of the beard and moustache he grew as soon as he was Knighted, that he is somehow still (despite his age and the wear and tear of far too many life-threatening adventures) endearingly boyish when he smiles (something that has been occurring with distressingly decreasing frequency, of late) or can be observed in the grips of animated debate or when he has abandoned himself to the freedom of the training salles, a boyish youthfulness that he has embodied and been known for (both within and without the confines of the Order) as first an older Padawan learner and then a Knight and now an extremely young Master - and his heart hurts, for the incredible amount of responsibility the Order has asked Obi-Wan to shoulder.

To be a Jedi is to be a willing sacrifice, it is true. To truly be a Jedi Master is to be able to hold, hammer, teach, train, temper (by fire and by ice), mold, and, above all, love . . . and then release. It is a difficult thing to do, a very hard thing to learn, to know both how and when to let go. Mastery is a much harsher road, a higher and ultimately much more lonely calling, than the simple straight path of Knighthood. Obi-Wan is a Master whose Padawan has rightfully been Knighted, and yet the Order, the Council, cannot and will not allow him to let go of Anakin. Their continued partnership is so unique that even now, even when it is obvious that they are true partners, that they are meant to be and remain together, it is still thought a scandal throughout the halls of the Temple. The strain it must bring Obi-Wan, to be a Master and yet remain partnered with his former Padawan learner . . . Mace does not like to think about it. Though he wonders, sometimes, if that might not be the source of the too subtle to be named but too obvious to be missed sensation of wrongness that he feels whenever he looks upon Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker together. That wrongness is so strong, after all, that it once deceived him into believing that the two Jedi had broken and were flagrantly disobeying both the most central tenet of the Jedi Code and the oldest unspoken rule of Jedi tradition - namely, the law forbidding attachments and the unwritten rule forbidden sexual congress between a Master and Padawan.

He vividly remembers the first time he looked upon them and felt his heart seize within his chest for fear of what it might mean, if they were to have fallen. Anakin had been fifteen, Obi-Wan twice his age, and Mace had come upon them unexpectedly, as they were meditating out in the gardens. They had been in a variation of First Form - the first position of meditation taught to the crèche younglings, a position meant to encourage comfort and trust and relaxation in children who're just beginning to learn how to quiet body, mind, and spirit enough to allow the focus needed for observing and learning the deep breathing necessary for centering, which leads to tranquility and the ultimate movement within the moment that is necessary in order to calmly perceive and interact with the Force. Obi-Wan had been comfortably balanced, sitting up upon his knees, which were spread wide to allow Anakin - who was also kneeling, but resting back upon the legs that were folded down under him - between them. Anakin had already been taller than Obi-Wan, so the fact that Anakin was sitting back upon his heels while Obi-Wan was up upon his knees gave more stability to the position, allowing Anakin to rest more comfortably, more securely, within the snug circle of Obi-Wan's arms. The variation on the position had obviously been logical, innocent . . . or so it had seemed, until Mace had observed first the way that Anakin's hands were tangled up in Obi-Wan's robes, as if trying to find their way within the layers of fabric, clenched so tightly that he was crushed up against his Master's chest and torso, and then the way that Obi-Wan was holding Anakin, his left hand, wound about with Anakin's Padawan braid, spread across the back of Anakin's head, cradling it and the boy to him, his right arm circling across his Padawan's back and pressing him firmly up against him.

Mace had been so shocked that he'd completely dropped the datapad he was carrying. He had desperately tried to convince himself that he was imagining things, that he was reading too much into a private moment of shared peace, and that he should withdraw. But he had drawn back only far enough into the shadows of the nearest tree, to pull its sheltering cover about him like a blanket, and then stopped, waiting and watching. An hour had passed. Two. Nearly four hours from the moment he had first caught sight of them, Anakin Skywalker's hands had stirred, tightening convulsively in his Master's robes, and a heavy sigh had escaped him. Within a few more moments, their eyes were open and they were smiling at one another, Obi-Wan tugging affectionately on Anakin's Padawan braid. Anakin had responded by reaching up, sliding his hands into his Master's hair, and then tugging, gently but insistently, until Obi-Wan had bent his head down to him, until Mace could not tell whether it was their foreheads or their mouths that were touching and the bottom had fallen completely out of his stomach for fear. There is a reason, a very specific reason, that attachment, that passion, is proscribed to Jedi. Even those few rare Jedi who are allowed to wed and to have families, because of the scarcity of their species, are allowed neither to marry for love nor to interact with their families enough to fall prey to the dangerous lure of forbidden feelings of attachment . . . and, thence, possession, ownership, greed, envy and jealousy, fear, anger, hatred, and, finally, pain and sorrow.

The life of a Jedi is one that, through necessity, allows and is allowed very little pleasure or happiness that is not of the tranquil joy of the Force, of the oneness with its Light that flows from faithfully seeking to listen to its voice and loyal obedience to its will. A Jedi's power and perception demands responsible use, to listen to and act in accordance with the will of the Force. To bring hope to those who have not, to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to find the path of justice for those who do not know it . . . these are high, hard, and lonely things. Even to look to or to dwell upon the future too much is to invite grief, for the calling of the Jedi is not to those places where peace and light and plenty already abound, but rather to those where such things may be brought into being. Commitment to any being or item or idea other than the voice of the Force is not only a violation of the Jedi Code. It is the renunciation of the vocation that is willingly shouldered by those who follow the calling of the Force by joining and upholding the Jedi Order, their lives a willing sacrifice witnessed, sworn, and bound to the Light of the Force. It is a distraction that bleeds away strength and purity of purpose, shifting focus off of what is necessary, what is needed, for the greater good, and onto what is merely selfishly desired by the one, the two, or the few.

The relationship of a Jedi with the Force is and must always be singular, one to one. It is a relationship whose making, continuance, and ultimate consummation is pursued, gained, and renewed at every stage of training, with each new initiation and ordination. This relationship is sought after by initiates in the crèche; promised by the vows of a Padawan who has agreed to be chosen by a Knight wishing to prove his or her or its Mastery or a Master in need of reaffirming their Mastery; forged by the efforts of that Padawan, who faithfully strives always to obey and to learn from his or her or its chosen Master; made holy by the ordination of Knighthood, after being tempered and tested by the battle that is the Trials; and is thereafter either carried to the heights of Mastery, and the High Council, or else reforged continually anew, within the bounds and bonds of Knighthood. A Jedi is not born. A Jedi is made: cast, molded, formed, and forged, all in the hottest of fires, before being tempered alone, quenched in solitude, in cold dark waters. A Jedi is created by the hands of many and the focused attention of one who is willing to selflessly give all love, all time, all learning, and able not only to recognize when nothing else can be added on but also to promptly let go of what has been made. A Jedi cannot flinch away from what is necessary. A Jedi cannot willingly fail to act on what is needful. "Do or do not. There is no try." And so, in this, a Jedi does not. Too much depends on the absolutely necessary ability of a Jedi to focus - to be able to recognize the greater good, to know what is needful to bring it about, and the unflinching, unhesitating determination to immediately, and without flinching, make it so - to risk weakening or breaking that focus, adulterating that strength of will and belief, with attachments that are, in the end, nothing more than distracting and dangerous pathways into darkness and selfishness, leading to the Dark Side of the Force.

To be Jedi is to be honor-bound, oath-bound, and bound, as well, to unfailing selflessness and the eventual solitude that comes of oneness with the Force. If Obi-Wan Kenobi, an avowed Jedi Knight and Master, and Anakin Skywalker, a sworn Padawan, were to have lost focus, lost control, and fallen . . . Mace Windu could not even comprehend how completely and unutterably disastrous the results would be. The need of the High Council, of the Jedi Order, of the Galactic Republic, of the galaxy itself . . . the need of the many is simply far too great to lose the Chosen One. And so Mace had continued to watch them, the requirements of that need a din in his head and a weight upon his heart, and tried to understand, clearly and accurately, what he was seeing, as the two simply breathed together, held and holding, joyfully serene and alive and alight with each other, with a greater whole, with the Light of the Force. It was love. He knew he was looking upon love. But was it the love of a Master and a Padawan, the strong but unselfish and ultimately transient warmth and trust of the bond that exists between teacher and student only so long as that relationship needs to endure and then is naturally moved past, as the relationship dissolves, as is necessary, and each willingly lets go of the other? Or was it another kind of love, the kind of love that arises from dangerous, forbidden attachment, the kind of love that leads to feelings and behavior of possessiveness, ownership, greed, envy and jealousy, fear, anger, hatred, and, ultimately, pain and sorrow? No matter how hard or how long he looked, Mace Windu had found that he had not been able to tell. And without concrete proof of some wrongdoing, there was really nothing he could do, either to halt or prevent calamity. So even after they had finally risen and departed together - striding shoulder to shoulder rather than with Anakin following one step behind and to the left of Obi-Wan, as was proper for him to do, as Obi-Wan's Padawan - Mace had vowed to keep watching them, keep trying to discern the truth.

For years, afterwards, he had seen nothing overt enough to make him truly believe that Obi-Wan and Anakin had fallen, and although it had been true that he had also seen little enough of the two Jedi together, as they had spent the majority of those years away from Coruscant, on missions, his doubt about the commitment of the two Jedi to the Order and to the Force had, nevertheless, begun to subside. But then had come the opening battle of the Clone Wars, and the discovery of Anakin Skywalker on Geonosis, having disobeyed his orders (although technically without breaking his mandate, according to the sworn testimony of Padmé Amidala Naberrie) to go to the planet in an attempt to save the life of his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had been captured and slated for execution by the Separatists. Following the outbreak of the Clone Wars, Anakin and Obi-Wan had been sent on a series of individually relatively short but ultimately time-consuming reconnaissance missions. They had been back at the Temple for less than a day before Mace had seen what he had been sure was public proof of their fall. Their behavior in the all too public arena of the training salle, the way they had moved together and then openly clung to each other, after each bout . . .

Of particular distress had been the way in which Anakin had thrown himself at Obi-Wan at the end of their second session, a hypnotic and obviously hybridized kata, while Obi-Wan had caught and held him, as they had laughed together. The embrace had been far too easy, far too unselfconscious, far too intimate, with Anakin raking his human hand carelessly through Obi-Wan's rumpled overlong hair, freeing it from its already slipping tie, and Obi-Wan not flinching, not moving away or trying to shrug off either the embrace or the casually intimate gesture. Indeed, Obi-Wan had tossed his head slightly, with another laugh, and Anakin had again raked his flesh and bone fingers with casual possessiveness through his Master's hair, prompting Obi-Wan to reach up and tug gently, affectionately, on the loop of Anakin's Padawan braid until it had come sliding down over Anakin's shoulder, allowing Obi-Wan to wrap a loop of it securely around his hand, after which he had tugged upon the braid again until Anakin ducked his head down, laughing. Their heads were so close together then that their foreheads touched, and they had held that pose for so long that two visiting Senators, both friends of the Order and well acquainted with Obi-Wan and Anakin, had been stunned by the display, one of them - Padmé Amidala - exclaiming with the kind of horrified shock that could not be feigned that she had feared they had been about to kiss each other, before they had finally moved a little bit away from each other to stroll across the salle to the bench where they had shed their excess layers, carelessly scooping up their discarded tunics and robes before leaving together, their heads still inclined so closely together that their hair had mingled, Anakin's fleshy arm curled around Obi-Wan's shoulders and Obi-Wan's arm slung about Anakin's waist, their positions together so casual, so possessive, so natural, that the bottom had dropped entirely out of Mace's stomach.

It had been after that all too public display of obvious affection that the Korun Master had made a fool of himself, confronting Obi-Wan about his indiscretion and apparent infidelity to the Order with his own Padawan learner. Obi-Wan Kenobi had brought him up short, though not nearly soon enough to save him from the humiliation of a false and unwarranted accusation, by coldly informing him that he had never in his life indulged in sexual antics and, furthermore, if anyone truly doubted the nature of Obi-Wan's relationship with, of all people, his Padawan learner, Anakin Skywalker, then Obi-Wan's memory and mind were as open books, for any and all to look within, as Mace Windu could very well see for himself. And he had. Seen for himself, that is. He had been given no other choice, with the grip Obi-Wan had seized of Mace's mind and the way the young Jedi had thrown himself so utterly open, so that Mace could not help but see the wholly innocent truth of the matter, what with the unaltered decision Obi-Wan had made, as a youngling, regarding his own body and sexuality. Although the decision that Obi-Wan had reached could, technically, be changed, its results reversed, it is not possible to physically hide or to alter the affects of that decision. Obi-Wan and Anakin were not and could not be lovers. Regardless of the way they constantly behaved around one another. Despite the way that the hysterical claims of Anakin Skywalker that his Master was not and could not be dead and that the Council must allow him to go after Obi-Wan, after the Battle of Jabiim, had later proved to be correct. In spite of the way they had remained together, after Anakin's Knighting, in a partnership that was not only unheard of but entirely unknown within the Temple.

Whatever it was, and is, about the relationship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker that has so consistently struck Mace Windu as wrong, it is not sexual. It looks and it feels like love, like attachment, and yet it's not that, or not just that. The two Jedi truly are partners in the Force. Equal, despite their unequal status. Balanced, in spite of both their various failings and flaws and their myriad strengths and different abilities. One, a true unity, with each other and within the Force, regardless of the fact that such a thing should be and is patently impossible. If understanding it, and them, were not so important, Mace would simply let it go, out of simple frustration. But it is that important. The need of the many - of the High Council, the Jedi Order, the Galactic Republic, the galaxy itself - has only grown greater over the years, and so it is, more than ever, quite simply far too great a blow to risk losing the Chosen One. Even if, more and more, it appears that the Chosen One might be neither Obi-Wan Kenobi nor Anakin Skywalker alone but instead the whole being, the completed soul, that exists between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. So Mace Windu pretends to read and continues to covertly watch Obi-Wan, and to worry about the increasing closeness in the relationship between Obi-Wan and Anakin, and to try, in vain, to puzzle out just what it is about that closeness, just what it is in their relationship, that is so wrong that looking upon them and seeing the way they behave towards each other makes his skin itch and his stomach twitch continuously, now, with the feeling of imminent danger . . .

***

Obi-Wan sits quietly beside Mace Windu - aware of the dour Korun Master's uneasy scrutiny but flatly refusing to allow himself to respond to the mistrust - reading the admittedly sketchy report on the truncated search out from The Works for Darth Sidious while Yoda scan reports generated about and because of the recent battle. Here inside Yoda's simple living space within the Jedi Temple, every softly curving pod chair and knurled organiform table hums with a gentle, comforting power, the same warm strength that Obi-Wan remembers enfolding him even as an infant in the Temple crèche. These chambers have been Yoda's home in the Jedi Order for more than eight hundred years. Everything within them echoes with the harmonic resonance of Yoda's calm wisdom, attuned to him and to the Force through centuries of his touch. To sit within Yoda's chambers is to inhale serenity; to Obi-Wan, this is a great gift in these troubled times, one made greater by the disturbing nature of information he is pursuing.

Those who had stayed behind to continue searching through 500 Republica's level-one sub-basement, when Masters Windu and Shaak Ti went to determine what had caused the sudden failure of their comlinks and the raising of the district's defensive shields, had vanished, apparently destroyed. Transmission of the code confirming the continued existence of two members of the team - ARC commander Valiant and Captain Dyne of Republic Intelligence - had ceased and not resumed when communications had been fully restored near the end of the Separatist attack. Their life-essences cannot be located within the Force, confirming their deaths. Whether the droids have been destroyed or captured, any information they might have reported is inaccessible to the Jedi. Fortunately, Captain Dyne set an automatic transmission that reached the Jedi Temple near the end of the battle, tracing the Sith Lord Sidious' path to the sub-basement back through what appears to be a ferrocrete floor panel near where the trail lets out into the sub-basement, though the panel is actually a cleverly disguised movable platform somewhat like a turbolift, if powered by hydraulics rather than an antigrav repulsors. This platform rests on a shaft (possibly a maintenance node for buildings that once stood on the site of 500 Republica at some point in Coruscant's distant past), the existence of which has yet to be confirmed by the Jedi, though the Council accepts it as a matter of course. Dyne's message ends with the team's decision to search through this shaft: at some point in this exploration, the remaining members of the search team were presumably discovered and taken out, either by Sidious, his allies, or some defense system. All in all, the contents of the report are not inducive of calm. There's an extended notation at the end of one of the reports - detailing more information on the mechno-chair that prompted the search of 500 Republica in the first place - that is particularly troublesome.

Yoda's reading is apparently likewise unsettling. When the ancient Jedi Master looks up at them through the translucent shimmer of the holoprojected report on the contents of the latest amendment to the Security Act, his eyes are anything but calm: they have gone narrow and cold, while his ears have flattened back along his skull, clearly revealing an emotion that would be taken for anger, coming from any other being. "This report - from where does it come?"

"The Jedi still have friends in the Senate," Mace Windu merely says his grim monotone, "for now."

"When presented this amendment is, passed it will be?"

Mace nods, once. "My source expects passage by acclamation. Overwhelming passage. Perhaps as early as tomorrow afternoon."

"The Chancellor's goal in this - unclear to me it is," Yoda muses slowly. "Though nominally in command of the Council, the Senate may place him, the Jedi he cannot control. Moral, our authority has always been; much more than merely /legal/. Simply follow orders, Jedi do not!"

"I don't think he intends to control the Jedi," is Mace's unsettling response. "By placing the Jedi Council under the control of the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, this amendment will give him the constitutional authority to disband the Order itself."

Yoda is apparently so stunned by this pronouncement that he cannot even protest. Obi-Wan's response is quite likely very similar to what the ancient little Master is thinking, though. "Surely you cannot believe this is his intention."

"His intention?" Mace repeats darkly. "Perhaps not. But his intentions are irrelevant; all that matters now is the intent of the Sith Lord, who clearly has our government in his grip. And the Jedi Order may be all that stands between him and galactic domination. What do you think he will do?"

"Authority to disband the Jedi, the Senate would never grant."

"The Senate will vote to grant exactly that. Tomorrow afternoon."

"The implications of this, they must not comprehend!"

"It no longer matters what they comprehend," is Mace implacable retort. "They know where the power is."

"Yet even disbanded, even without legal authority, still Jedi we would be. Jedi Knights served the Force long before there was a Galactic Republic, and serve it we will when this Republic is but dust."

"Master Yoda, that day may be coming sooner than any of us think. That day may be tomorrow if we continue to do nothing." Mace shoots a frustrated look at Obi-Wan, who picks up his cue smoothly.

"We don't know what the Sith Lord's plans may be," Obi-Wan begins, "but we can be certain that Palpatine is not to be trusted. Not anymore. This draft resolution is not the product of some overzealous Senator; we may be sure Palpatine wrote it himself and passed it along to someone he controls, to be put forth by a Senator when the time became right - to make it look like the Senate is once more 'forcing' him to 'reluctantly accept extra powers in the name of security.' We are afraid that they will continue to do so until one day he's forced to 'reluctantly accept' dictatorship for /life/!"

"I am convinced this is the next step in a plot aimed directly at the heart of the Jedi," Mace adds, picking up the thread. "This is a move toward our destruction. The Dark Side of the Force surrounds the Chancellor."

"As it has surrounded and cloaked the Separatists since even before the war began," Obi-Wan elaborates. "If the Chancellor is being influenced through the Dark Side, this whole war may have been, from the beginning, no more than a plot by the Sith to destroy the Jedi Order."

"Speculation!" Yoda thumps the floor soundly with his gimer stick in a rare show of temper, making his hoverchair bob gently. "On theories such as these we cannot rely. Proof we need. Proof!"

"Proof may be a luxury we cannot afford." A dangerous light has entered Mace Windu's eyes. "We must be ready to act!"

Obi-Wan is slightly startled by this turn in the conversation. "Act?" he asks mildly, trying to feel his way along this new twist without venturing any further down it than he has to.

"He cannot be allowed to move against the Order. He cannot be allowed to prolong the war needlessly. Too many Jedi have died already. He is dismantling the Republic itself! I have seen life outside the Republic; so have you, Obi-Wan. Slavery. Torture. Endless war." Mace's face darkens with the same distant, haunted shadow Obi-Wan saw him wear less than an hour before. "I have seen it in Nar Shaddaa, and I saw it on Haruun Kal. I saw what it did to Depa, and to Sora Bulq. Whatever its flaws, the Republic is our sole hope for justice, and for peace. It is our only defense against the dark. Palpatine may be about to do what the Separatists cannot: bring down the Republic. If he tries, he must be removed from office. Already, he refuses to allow the war to end, refuses to surrender power. The man is a tyrant. He must be dealt with."

"Removed?" Obi-Wan repeats questioningly. "You mean, /arrested/?"

"If he refuses to step down when this war is over, then, /yes/," Mace nods emphatically. "This is exactly why I am concerned about the relationship between Palpatine and Anakin."

Obi-Wan cannot seem to catch his breath. "But surely - surely you don't expect - "

Surprisingly, it is Master Yoda, not Windu, who responds. "Use their relationship we can, if we must. Whether necessary that use will be, convinced as yet I am /not/."

All Obi-Wan can see is Anakin's face, turned up towards the high vaulted ceiling of the landing bay of the RSS Integrity/, his features contorted to the shape of a sustained snarl, eyes glaring sightlessly. "You cannot do that. You cannot seriously be thinking of asking such a thing of Anakin. You /must know that you can never ask such a terrible thing of him!"

Obi-Wan's rising voice momentarily startles the two Masters away from their argument, causing them to look at their distraught colleague. Frowning, Mace Windu quietly admits, "We don't always have a good answer for such conundrums, Obi-Wan. Sometimes there isn't a good answer. That is why the timing of the attack is so suspicious. We needed the information that investigation could have won for us. We need to know how deeply Palpatine might be involved with the Sith Lord so that we can neutralize him."

With a somewhat skeptical sidelong glance at Mace, Yoda adds, "Know how important your friendship with young Anakin is to you, I do. But allow such attachments to pass out of one's life, a Jedi must."

Another man - even another Jedi - might have resented the rebuke, but Obi-Wan has grown used to hearing this command, and so he only frowns, sighing. "I suppose - he is the Chosen One, after all. The prophecy says he was born to bring balance to the Force, but . . . " The words trail off. He can no longer remember what he had been meaning to say. All he can remember is the look on Anakin's face, the feel of his hands gripping his shoulders.

"Yes. Always in motion, the future is." Yoda lifts his head, eyes narrowing to thoughtful slits, as he quietly allows, "And the prophecy, misread it could have been."

Mace manages to look even grimmer than usual at that admission. "Since the fall of Darth Bane more than a millennium ago, there have been hundreds of thousands of Jedi - quite possibly millions of Jedi - feeding the Light with each work of their hands, with each breath, with every beat of their hearts, bringing justice, building civil society, radiating peace, acting out of selfless love for all living things, while in all these thousand years, there have been only two Sith at any given time. Only two. Jedi create light, but the Sith do not create darkness. They merely use the darkness that is always there, the evil that has always been there. Greed and jealousy, aggression and lust and fear: these are all natural to sentient beings, beings who are able to feel as well as being capable of rational thought. It is the legacy of the primordial garden. Our inheritance from the Dark."

Obi-Wan's eyes are blankly uncomprehending. "I'm sorry, Master Windu, but I am not sure I follow you. Are you saying - to follow your metaphor - that the Jedi have cast too much light? From what I have seen these past years, the galaxy has not become all that bright a place."

"All I am saying is that we don't know/. We don't even truly understand what it /means to bring balance to the Force. We have no way of anticipating what this may involve!"

"An infinite mystery is the Force," Yoda softly interjects. "The more we learn, the more we discover how much we do not know. Fully in motion, though, are the events of our time. Approach, the crisis does."

"Yes." Mace nods once, decisively, interlacing his fingers and squeezing until all of his knuckles pop. "But we're in a spice mine without a glow rod. If we continue to stand still, we will never reach the light."

Obi-Wan's voice is shaking as he asks, "And what if the light just isn't there? What if we get to the end of this tunnel and find only night?"

"Faith must we have. Trust in the will of the Force." Yoda also nods once, decisively.

"What other choice is there?" Mace shrugs.

Obi-Wan accepts this with a nod, and yet the thought of Anakin still causes dread to curdle below his heart. "But to move against Palpatine . . . Masters, I trust Anakin with my life. You both know that I do. Yet, that is precisely the problem." The other two Jedi Masters watch Obi-Wan silently, their eyes betraying some confusion, while he struggles to summon the proper words to explain his misgivings to them. "For Anakin," Obi-Wan finally declares, "there is nothing more important than loyalty, than friendship. He is the most loyal man I have ever met - loyal beyond reason, in fact. Despite all that I have tried to teach him about the sacrifices that support and create the central being of a Jedi, he will never, I think, truly understand." Obi-Wan looks beseechingly at Yoda, as though willing the venerable Master to understand. "Master Yoda, you and I have been close since I was a boy. An infant. Yet if ending this war one week sooner - even one day sooner - were to require that I sacrifice your life, you know that I would."

"As you should," Yoda only nods. "As I would yours, young Obi-Wan. As any Jedi would let go of any other, in the cause of peace."

"Any Jedi," Obi-Wan admits, voice and hands trembling, "except Anakin."

Yoda and Mace exchange glances at this, both thoughtfully grim. Obi-Wan supposes they are remembering the many times Anakin has violated orders - the times he has put at risk entire operations, the lives of thousands, even the control of entire planetary systems - while trying to save a friend. Something that Anakin has done more than once, truth be told, to save Obi-Wan. "I think," Obi-Wan continues carefully, "that abstractions like peace don't mean much to him. He's loyal to people/, not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will, for example, stop at nothing to save me, because he thinks I would do the same for him." Mace and Yoda gaze at him steadily, and Obi-Wan is forced to lower his head. "Because," he admits reluctantly, "he /knows I would do the same for him."

"Understand exactly where your concern lies, I do not." Yoda's greenish eyes have gone surprisingly softly sympathetic. "Named must your fear be, before banish it you can. Do you fear that perform his task, Anakin cannot?"

"Oh, no! That's not it at all. I am firmly convinced that Anakin can do anything he sets his mind and his will to doing, however seemingly impossible. Except to betray a friend. What you are both suggesting that we do to him, with Palpatine - "

"But that is what Jedi /are/," Mace Windu interrupts, voice and expression alike startled. "That is what we have pledged ourselves to: selfless service - "

A small shudder wracks Obi-Wan's body as he again feels Anakin's hands upon his shoulders, sees Anakin's anguished face twisted up towards the ceiling of the landing bay. His eyes fall shut at the pain he feels. "Yes," he finally slowly admits, forcing himself to look at both Masters. "We are instruments of the Force, Masters. But we are meant to fulfill the will of the Force - with infinite compassion and unforgiving justness - not to act out of fear of what could happen and suspicions of what might be. We have no proof to offer him and would ask that he act in a way contrary to his nature. Betrayal is neither compassionate nor just. That is why I cannot believe that Anakin would ever trust us again, if we were to ask such a thing of him." His eyes turn unaccountably hot, his vision swimming with unshed tears. "And I'm not entirely sure that he should, if we do."

Yoda only quietly shakes his head. "To a dark place, this line of thought will lead us. Great care, we must take."

"The Republic is civilization. It's the only one we have." Mace looks deeply into first Yoda's eyes and then Obi-Wan's, and Obi-Wan can feel the heat in the Korun Master's gaze. "We must be prepared for radical action. It is our duty/, the duty of /all of us, as Jedi, to act!"

"But," Obi-Wan protests numbly, "you're talking about treason . . . "

"I am not afraid of words, Obi-Wan! If it's treason, then so be it. I would do this right now, if I had the Council's support. The real treason," Mace insists, "would be failure to /act/!"

"Such an act, destroy the Jedi Order, it could," is Yoda's immediate response. "Lost the trust of the public, we have already - "

"No disrespect, Master Yoda," Mace interrupts, "but that's a politician's argument. We can't let public opinion - or the loyalty of one man - stop us from doing what is right."

"Convinced it is right, I am /not/," is Yoda's severe reply. "Working behind the scenes we should be, to uncover Lord Sidious! To move against Palpatine while the Sith still exist, Chosen One or no - this may be part of the Sith plan /itself/, to turn the Senate and the public against the Jedi! So that we are not only disbanded, but /outlawed/."

Mace is half out of his pod. "To continue to wait gives the Sith the advantage - "

"Have the advantage already/, they do!" Yoda jabs at him with his gimer stick. "/Increase their advantage we will, if in haste we act! Care, we must take! Infinite care! A change there has been, in the Force! Two changes, two shifts, felt I during the attack. Too close to Darth Sidious, the Order came. Left Coruscant he did, during the attack. Returned, he has. Watch for him now we must. But this new thread," Yoda shakes his head again and crashes his gimer stick down determinedly, "Lose it, break it, this we must not do. Much potential, it carries. Perhaps a chance, even, to end this. A new hope, this brings us. Pursue it, we must! Act in haste, out of fear, against the elected head of the Republic, we must not!"

"The elected head of the Republic is a /dictator/! His dictatorship has already been legitimized - and can still be legalized, by enshrined in a revised Constitution - by the supermajority he controls within the Senate if we continue to fail to act!" Windu is almost shouting by this point. "Just because Obi-Wan has become Anakin's partisan and Palpatine is - "

"Filled with corruption, yes, the Senate is. Controlled, a majority of the Senators are, by Palpatine. But the true enemy, neither the Senate nor Palpatine is! The true enemy instead is the Sith Lord Sidious, who controls them both. Our job to police politicians it is not. To hunt down the Sith Lord and to destroy him is our /duty/. Lose track of this we cannot, do we wish to remain Jedi within a functioning and lawful Order!" Yoda only interrupts, his voice very loud and firm.

"Masters, Masters, please!" Obi-Wan steps boldly into the conversation, just as Mace Windu's frowning mouth is opening to issue yet another challenge. He looks from one to the other and then inclines his head respectfully, if sorrowfully, realizing that neither Master has understood what he has so desperately been trying to tell them. "Perhaps there is a middle way."

"Ah, of course: Kenobi the Negotiator." Mace Windu settles back into his seating pod, not quite scowling in displeasure, in outright contempt. "I should have guessed. That is why you asked for this meeting, isn't it? To mediate our differences. If you can."

"So sure of your skills you are?" Yoda snaps, folding his fists around the head of his stick. "Easy to negotiate, this matter is not!"

Obi-Wan keeps his head determinedly down, strengthened by the memory of Anakin's pain. "It seems to me," he offers carefully, "that Palpatine himself has given us an opening. As he said to you, Master Windu - and doubtlessly will repeat in the HoloNet address he was meaning to give concerning his kidnaping and rescue when he left us earlier - with Dooku gone, General Grievous is the one true remaining obstacle to peace. This means that Grievous is the one true remaining danger. Let us forget about the rest of the Separatist leadership, for now. Let Nute Gunray and San Hill and the rest run wherever they like while we put every available Jedi and all of our agents - the whole of Republic Intelligence, if we can - to work on locating Grievous himself. This will force the hand of the Sith Lord; he will know that Grievous cannot elude our full efforts for long, once we devote ourselves exclusively to his capture. It will draw Sidious out; he will have to make some sort of move, if he wishes the war to continue."

"If?" Mace blinks. "The war has been a Sith operation from the beginning, with Dooku pulling strings on one side and Sidious manipulating everyone from behind the scenes: it has always been a plot aimed at /us/. At the Jedi. To bleed us dry of our youngest and best. To make us into something we were never intended to be." He shakes his head bitterly. "I had the truth in my hands years ago - back on Haruun Kal, in the first months of the war. I had it, but I did not understand how right I was."

"Seen glimpses of this truth, we all have," Yoda agrees sadly. "Our arrogance it is, which has stopped us from fully opening our eyes."

"Until now," Obi-Wan puts in gently. "We understand now the goal of the Sith Lord - we know his tactics, and we know where to look for him. His actions will reveal him. He cannot escape us. He will not escape us."

Yoda and Mace frown at each other for one long moment, then both of them turn to Obi-Wan and incline their heads in mirroring acknowledgment of his respectful bow.

"Seen to the heart of the matter, young Kenobi has."

Mace nods. "Yoda and I will remain on Coruscant, monitoring Palpatine's advisers and lackeys; we'll move against Sidious the instant he is revealed. But who will capture Grievous? I have fought him blade-to-blade. He is more than a match for most Jedi."

"We'll worry about that once we find him," Obi-Wan insists, and a slight, wistful smile creeps over his face. "If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Qui-Gon reminding me that /until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction/."

***