FicWad

Additional Author's Note: Erhm, did I mention things between Anakin and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon and Dooku and Bail Organa are becoming . . . complex? Well . . . hold that thought, please, because there will be more to that "becoming," eventually. In the meantime, though, please bear with!






When Healer Bant, Gate Master Jurokk, Raymus Antilles, and Commander Mark reach the top of the Council Spire, they are met with the most extraordinary sight. The badly warped and buckled enormous double doors that once divided the enormous open room of the Council Chamber from the rest of the Spire are partially melted and twisted upon their hinges so that even though they are leaning inwards, almost thrown open, they are also listing drunkenly outwards and downwards, towards the steps. The ceiling - the roof of the entire Spire - is completely gone, and so are enormous sections of the room's walls. Chunks of twisted debris from what appears to have been both the roof of the Spire and the chairs of the various members of the Council litters the floor along the little that does remain intact of the walls. The Council's enormous round table has itself been lifted and flung back against one of the few remaining intact sections of wall - the one that is furthest away from the doors - a piece of transparisteel that, miraculously enough, is still almost entirely intact, though it is almost opaquely white with the crazing of cracks shot all throughout it. It is a good thing that this one piece of transparisteel has held together: otherwise, that enormous (and surprisingly solid and heavy, despite its hollowed-out design) table would surely have been thrown entirely free of the tower. Instead, that huge table is now turned up on its side, leaning drunkenly back against that furthest section of wall.

Essentially, the Council Chamber now consists of nothing more than a surprisingly smooth floor and a broken ring of upright strips along a ring of vaulting columns, since much of the transparisteel that once lined the Chamber's walls has apparently not only been broken apart, not only busted out, but actually completely pulverized in the two blasts - the first from cleansing the Force of that cancerous taint and the second from Obi-Wan and Anakin's willing and wholly deliberate joining with the Force in a reaffirmation of their love and their bond - a shimmering mist of crystalline flakes and granules like an extremely fine rain of sand blown in every direction outward and away from the tower the only other sign of what until quite recently had been solid walls, though a light sparkling mist still peppers some of the floor in front of where the largest sections of transparisteel have been destroyed. This broken open room looks like nothing so much as some mad artist's rendition of a crown of bizarrely twisted and glass-razored daggers, scaled up to mythically gigantic proportions and dropped down just so onto the flat table of the nearest convenient open raised surface, so as to gird the entire area, as if the entire tower were no more than a pedestal to be used for display. The devastation of the room is so thorough that the two Jedi instinctively move to flank the two non-Jedi in their midst - the slight forms of Healer Bant and Gate Master Jurokk (who is not even half a head taller than the petite Mon Calamari Healer) practically dwarfed by Raymus Antilles (a man easily tall enough to match Anakin's height) - though Commander Mark almost immediately just as instinctively takes an extra step forward, as if to place himself between Raymus and the Jedi and any threat that might be within the room.

The physical forms of Jedi Masters Mace Windu, Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Kit Fisto and the blue holoimages of Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Coleman Kcaj, Stass Allie, and Shaak Ti are ranged in a line just beyond the limit of where that huge table would reach, if it were to slide or fall the rest of the way down to the floor. They are all on their knees, as close to the ground as they can become without actually curling down into themselves and bowing their heads against the floor. Their deactivated lightsabers are all lying on the ground before them, hilts pointing outwards as if they have been placed carefully in front of their owners by the hands of some other being. There is a hole near the center of this line, directly to Master Windu's right and to Master Plo Koon's left. Master Yoda is perhaps three human-normal paces in front of that hole, the hilt of his deactivated lightsaber similarly placed in front of him, though he looks as if he has actually collapsed into the floor rather than simply knelt down. Even more shocking than that, though, is the fact that all ten of these great Jedi Masters are openly weeping.

There are five others present in the room, grouped together near the center of the room, two of them clutched in a close embrace and the other three ranged in an arc just behind them, all of them close enough together that they quite distinctively form some kind of working unit. The eldritch blue-fired forms of the Force spirits of Jedi Masters Dooku and Qui-Gon Jinn - at once strangely solid seeming yet also weirdly transparent - are standing protectively to either side of what looks to be Bail Organa (though it is impossible to tell for certain since they are all three of them standing with their backs to the doors), close enough to him that the edges of Dooku's cloak and Qui-Gon's outer robe overlap the edge of the Prince's cape. The two are standing at a slight angle to Bail, the hand of either one planted firmly, supportively, against the small of Bail's back, and a part of their profiles is just visible from the doorway, revealing the fact that the two Force spirits are indeed shockingly young, much younger than any of the new arrivals - with the slight exception of Gate Master Jurrok, who is old enough to at least remember a Qui-Gon Jinn whose hair and beard were as yet untouched by the ravages of time - have personally known either one to be in life. Of the other two in the room - apparently Obi-Wan and Anakin, though it is simply not possible to be entirely sure, since only the outermost edges of their forms are visible off to either side of Bail - little can be seen, though the very fact that they are pressed so closely together, arms wrapped tightly around one another, says volumes, at the very least, to Bant.

Before any of those four arrivals can begin to frame a question as to what has happened or what is wrong, they are presented with an answer in the form of a clear look at the faces of Obi-Wan, Anakin, Qui-Gon, Dooku, and Bail. With a grace that seems almost practiced, those five turn and move gracefully until they are ranged in a line, facing the doors, Dooku standing to the far left, next to Qui-Gon, and Anakin standing to the far right, next to Obi-Wan, with Bail Organa standing at the center. Standing together as they are, all five men are so beautiful that they almost seem to shine with an inner light - an overwhelming beauty and all but perceptible aura of light that is the direct result of the Light of the Force lingering upon and within them - though of the five, Bail Organa looks much more like himself, like the image of the person they are accustomed to envisioning, when his name is mentioned, rather than some Force-fired and Light-limed spirit fashioned after the manner of a man. Even if light does seem to spark, coolly eldrith, in the deep folds of his cloak and run glinting across both the ornamental carving of the metal arm-guards that extend from Bail's wrists perhaps two-thirds of the way up to his elbows (more like handless gauntlets than mere bracers) and the not quite butterfly-shaped but not entirely simply heart-shaped either decorative buckle of his blue-grey belt.

It is Dooku who speaks first, his voice surprisingly gentle for all of its unquestionable authority. "Please, return to what you were doing before you came up the Council Spire. I fear that we are going to need some more time alone here before we will be ready to make a Temple-wide announcement. Do not worry for the safety of the Council or the Temple. The shocks that you all felt earlier were the result of the Force being cleansed of the taint upon it brought about by the evil of the Sith and of a public affirmation of the bonded status of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. There should be no other such disturbances today."

Raymus Antilles, surprisingly enough, is the first to protest. "Master Jedi, forgive me, but my brother - "

"Bail will be staying with us, for the moment. I assure you that he is quite alright," Obi-Wan quietly but firmly cuts the man off.

Even badly disheveled - with four bleeding cuts on his face and so much dust on him that his tousled and bedraggled hair appears grey, rather than black, and his badly askew (and in some places actually torn) black-lined, dark charcoal, traditional Alderaanian cloak (an elegant flowing garment half cape and half poncho in design, cut short over the left arm, perhaps the width of a slender hand below the shoulder, and slanted on a long diagonal so that it drapes down over most of the right arm and down to a length near the heels in the back) is caked with so much dust that it actually appears to be off-white in places, while the usually storm-cloud dark gunmetal gray of his traditional Alderaanian captain's uniform appears to be even paler than Bail Organa's actually much lighter hued similar clothing because of the dust - Raymus manages to give him a look that would drop most people in their tracks at a thousand paces (although it merely makes Obi-Wan blink at him, once, ever so slightly bemusedly), and declares, "General Kenobi, I have enormous respect for you as a diplomat, tactician, warrior, and Jedi Master, sir, but my brother and Prince appears to be glowing faintly around the edges. This is a matter of some concern, for me."

"I'm quite fine, Raymus. And Master Obi-Wan is right. I will be staying for some time," Bail offers quietly - his words perhaps not quite as reassuring as he has intended them to be due to the fact that he is staring openly and adoringly at Obi-Wan and Anakin in lieu of making eye contact with his much younger brother-in-law.

"Highness, I feel I must protest - "

"Really, Antilles, I'm quite alright. You should contact our people and warn them that it may be some time before I return to my quarters," Bail cuts in, obliviously continuing to stare at his new Masters. "I am sure that they must be wondering about us, by now."

"Highness - "

"Padawan, perhaps if you looked at him while you were speaking to him?" Anakin finally offers, sotto voice.

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, yes!" Bail startles visibly, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks. A wave of awkwardness and confusion, tinged slightly with fear, floods out from him as he lowers his eyes partially - not quite sharply enough to allow them to slip out of his line of sight. "Forgive me, Master. I know it is impolite to stare. But - "

Bail's shielding is so nonexistent that the reason for his behavior is there, plain for anyone with even a moderate amount of Force ability to pick up on. He is afraid - although he knows that it is an irrational fear - that if he turns his attention away from them for even a moment, he will wake up and discover that the events of the past hour have only been a dream. Resisting the urge to sigh, Obi-Wan gently interrupts. "Padawan, we will not melt away into nothingness if you turn your eyes away. This is where you are supposed to be: nothing will change that. There are matters yet to be arranged, and you will have to leave the Temple to tend to them, but no one and nothing will bar you from returning here. You are our Padawan now: the bond is real and it will not be denied. Accept that. Calm yourself. Your brother-in-law is concerned for your well-being. Have courtesy enough to accept that concern for what it is, instead of dismissing it out of hand."

Bail's blush is even more pronounced as he ducks his head and nods. "Of course, Bendu. I understand. Forgive me. Raymus?" he asks, turning to face his brother by marriage - whose shock at what he has just heard is so great this his mouth is hanging open the slightest bit.

"I - I'm not - I don't - Bail?" Raymus stammers helplessly, his eyes begging for an explanation that can calm the storm of confusion overwhelming him.

Before Bail can begin to respond, though, Gate Master Jurrok cuts in, his expression and tone of voice both utterly transparent, such is his shock. "Padawan?! Bail Organa a Padawan learner!? But this is absurd! True Padawan learners are always chosen at the age of thirteen standard years or whatever the equivalent age might happen to be for that level of maturity among baseline normal humans. And a Padawan cannot have more than one Master any more than a Master can have more than one Padawan! The Code - "

"If you are trying to imply that Anakin Skywalker's training within the Jedi Order in the ways of the Force has been lacking in certain respects," Obi-Wan interrupts, his voice deceptively mild and calm when compared to the holocaust fires burning furiously in his eyes, "then you are quite correct, Gate Master, though not for any of the reasons that I suspect you would think to offer. In any case, Jedi Master Simikarty's far too influential writings on the Jedi Code aside, there are no such restrictions on the age at which an apprentice can be taken on as a Padawan learner, nor are there any such restrictions within any version of the Code regarding how many Masters it is permissible for a Padawan to have or even how many Padawans it is permissible for a Master to have. Besides which," he adds, with such implacable force that the Gate Master's mouth - already opening for a rebuttal - snaps shut with an audible click of teeth, "given that the Code itself was never meant to be more than a meditative aid to help give focus and purpose to a generation of war-weary Jedi with obviously flagging and in some cases even faltering devotion to the Force and the Light in the aftermath of the Great Hyperspace War (a conflict that did not begin until roughly 20,000 standard years after the founding of the Jedi Order, mind!) and was itself deliberately modeled by Jedi Master Odan-Urr on a much older code, one that actually predates the founding of the Jedi Order - Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force. - quite a few years previous to its wider adoption within the Order as a meditative aid only, it is patently absurd to refer to the current version of the Code as if it were a handbook in miniature for the only way possible to establish proper relations with the Force. In addition to which, given the fact that the canonization of said Code and the transformation of the Jedi Order into a much more obviously strict monastic organization came about only following the effort to rebuild an Order that had been decimated and nearly destroyed entirely during the Old Sith Wars and that said Order only began to operate as if it actually made logical sense to conflate such writings as those of Master Simikarty with the then-current version of that Code - not to mention behaving as if the Code actually were meant to be a script of law for proper and acceptable Jedi behavior - in the aftermath of a second near-destruction of the Order at the so-called end of the New Sith Wars at the Seventh Battle of Ruusan, when the Ruusan Reformation swept both the Galactic Republic and the Jedi Order itself with a wave of largely fearfully reactionary, unnecessary, and, in the case of the Jedi Order, outright detrimental reformation - reformation that has led the galaxy to the brink of utter catastrophe and the Jedi Order to the brink of yet a third near utter decimation - it is not only absurd, not only counterproductive, but actually harmful to call upon such limited and flawed understandings of the Force as if they were sacrosanct!"

Gate Master Jurrok's response to Obi-Wan's uncharacteristically argumentative attitude and - to Jurrok's mind - obviously heretical stance on the Code is, unsurprisingly, shock and confusion at least equal to that of Raymus Antilles. "But - but - I - I don't understand, what - "

"Calm yourself, Gate Master. The four Masters have things well in hand here and I'm sure that when they are done speaking with the Council, you will receive your explanation by way of the Temple-wide announcement Master Dooku has promised," Bant offers quietly, soothingly, smoothly intervening before Anakin can do more than take a preparatory breath.

Still, Jurrok tries to frame one more protest. "But - !"

"I'd listen to Healer Bant if I were you, Gate Master. She's a very wise lady," Anakin merely cuts him off, the quiet warning in his eyes clear enough to once again make the Gate Master's mouth shut swiftly and firmly enough to make his teeth click audibly.

"Masters - not to be rude or anything, but - " the pause as Raymus takes a breath would not have been noticeable, were he not also visibly bracing himself against a response, clearly not only confused but also a little afraid of the reply that he might receive, "what about my brother? Bail? Please?" Raymus plaintively asks before the Gate Master or anyone else can say or ask anything else, his dark eyes searching Bail's face for reassurance.

"I am still capable of speaking for myself, Raymus," Bail gently but firmly reminds his bewildered brother-in-law, this time making sure to look Raymus in the eye and hold his gaze while he is talking to him. "And I am perfectly aware of what I'm saying and quite serious in meaning it when I tell you that, as their new Padawan learner, I will be staying with Obi-Wan and Anakin for a while longer. Please, don't concern yourself over this or worry about me, Raymus. I've made this decision of my own free will. This is where I want to be. This is where I was born to be. And so this is where I need to be, at least for a little while longer. Please, go back down with the others. I promise you that I will explain everything just as soon as I am free to do so. Until then, though, you should contact and our people and reassure them that we are both still at the Temple and still safely in one piece. They will likely be worrying about us both by now."

Frowning slightly, plainly still not entirely convinced, Raymus carefully replies, "If that is your wish, Highness, then of course I shall. But then," Raymus frowns even more deeply, his eyes darker than normal and clouded with worry, casting about helplessly for a moment before continuing on, "what exactly should I say, should I be asked why you are lingering here - ?"

"Raymus, you needn't tell anyone anything other than the truth. My presence is required here, for the moment. When I am no longer needed here, I will return to my quarters and I will explain everything to the staff myself. Truly, brother, you need not worry. Go back with the others and when we are finished here and an announcement has been made to the Temple, I will answer all of your questions," Bail quickly promises. "Until then, I would prefer it if you call me by my name, and I would deeply appreciate it if you would please refrain from asking us any more questions, at least for a while. I will explain everything, to the very best of my abilities, later on. For now, though, I'm asking you to trust me, Raymus."

After a moment of hesitation so small that it is almost unnoticeable, Raymus' eyes clear and he nods once, definitively. "Then I will trust you, Bail."

"Thank you, Raymus," Bail smiles and bows his head, acknowledging his brother-in-law's words for the gift that they are.

Sensing that the problem has been resolved, Qui-Gon tactfully offers Raymus and those who are standing with him a way to withdraw from the tower without any more fuss. "I am sure that there are many others who are concerned and confused about recent events and yearning for answers to many questions. I would greatly appreciate it if I could prevail upon you," Qui-Gon looks first at Gate Master Jurrok and then at Healer Bant, offering the latter a warm smile, "to spread the word that there will be mandatory Temple-wide meeting in approximately one to two hours and inform all residents of the Temple complex that they should begin gathering in the main arena. I fear this must be a private gathering, Commander Mark, and so you will also need to inform your men as such."

"Understood." One word, simple but effective, is all that is necessary as the clone commander nods his understanding and acquiescence; yet, then, greatly daring, he continues, "In the meantime, Master Jedi, may I suggest that you all relocate to another room? It's good that the shocks are past, but this room doesn't strike me as the most safe or stable environment. It's too open. Makes for a very inviting target. No sense tempting fate, Sir. The war's not over yet. The Republic needs all of us intact."

The words are directed at Qui-Gon, but it is Dooku who answers. "The room serves a purpose. But I think we will not be within its confines for much longer." The hardness in his eyes as he utters those last words is reserved solely for the ten Jedi Masters still huddled on the floor.

"Sir, respectfully, the Warrior of the Infinite is our brother," Commander Mark replied warningly, deliberately using the title of highest respect that the clone troopers had for the team of /Kenboi and Skywalker/, which they had adapted from the appellation given to Anakin by the human populace of Virujansi (Hero of the Infinite). "I've never had the privilege to serve under the Negotiator or the Hero With No Fear, but all clones know how they have taken our part and accepted us as true allies. Please, don't take unnecessary risks. The Warrior of the Infinite is our /brother/," the clone commander repeated, deliberately stressing the word that he knows will mean the most to those two men, given all he has heard about them.

Sure enough, "Peace, Commander," Anakin says, smiling a little at the clone's daring. "Our bodies may be born to seed the stars, but we're in no hurry for the fire. We will take care."

"Sir!" Commander Mark's smile is brief but openly victorious. "With permission, then, I will withdraw and inform the other troopers."

"Granted. And thank your brothers for their devotion! We are fortunate indeed to have such loyal brothers-in-arms," Obi-Wan smiles, openly pleased that he and Anakin have been given the chance to begin forging yet another close bond of friendship between themselves - as emissaries not only of the Order but of the Republic itself - and the ranks of the clone troopers who make up the bulk of the GAR, or the Grand Army of the Republic.

"With pleasure, General Kenobi!" Grinning openly, Commander Mark salutes the Jedi and then turns on his heel, briskly motioning for Healer Bant, Gate Maser Jurrok, and Raymus Antilles to precede him back out the warped and sagging double doors.

Soon, those doors are closing again (as well as they can, given such damage), leaving Bail Organa alone again in the Council Chamber with fourteen full Jedi Masters. Before he can start to feel discomforted by that fact, though, Qui-Gon Jinn begins speaking again.

"I believe we were discussing the future of this Order, were we not?" the Force spirit asks, his voice as unbending as steel as he turns his gaze back upon those ten former members of the Jedi High Council.

Afterwards, Bail Organa quickly becomes far too engrossed in listening and therefore learning about the Order that he has just been accepted into to be discomforted by his seemingly incongruous presence within the room as the one lone outsider in the midst of so many venerable Jedi Masters.

***

/Shock. In shock, I am. Awaken, I should. Fight harder against this. Dangerous, this is. Dangerous, so much love. Dangerous, so much light. Perilously dangerous, the Light of so much love and light combined, made truly one. Awaken, I soon should, and a swift stop put to this. Too perilous, such things are, for the likes of us. Too fragile, beings of flesh are, to hold such power. Known, it is. Decided, it was. By those much wiser than I, decided it was. Too perilous, love is. A path that the Jedi dare no longer to follow. Compassion, yes, but never love. Never attachment. Never light in such quantities as this. Never such Light, in beings of such perilously fragile flesh. Too dangerous, it is. In shock, I must be. Why else nothing do I do? Shock. Awaken, I should . . . /The dazed and oddly detached (as though somehow not entirely real) thoughts of the venerable little Grand Master are an endlessly looping snarl of confusion as he stands silently with the nine of his fellow Council Masters who remain at least mostly untouched, as yet, by that perilously dangerous and even more awesomely beautiful Light of love twinned light, ranged in a row out before them in the softly glowing, strangely semi-transparent form of two former Masters of the Order and the guise of two weirdly lovely and still shockingly noticeably physically luminescent current members of the Order, these four figures standing almost protectively around the silent and wisely still form of a Light-touched Bail Organa.

Yoda's eyes are so wide and astonished as he gazes upon this sight, though, that they almost appear to be blind. His mien, like his mind, is strangely static and distant, a vast quietness having swallowed him up so far within the embrace of its stillness that not even the shrill panic of his own thoughts have the power to shatter that eerie calm. Within the grips of this shocked and alien silence - not anything so familiar or comforting as true tranquility, but instead merely the absence of enough strength for panic, the kind of utterly scraped clean hollowed out emptiness that follows a storm of emotions so wildly violent that not even body and mind together have sufficient energy between them for the connectedness needed to further fuel a second bout of the feverish and fruitless activity that is panic - Yoda simply floats, for a moment, in the aftermath of one too many rapid shocks for his ancient body to bear, the unexpected total destruction of one too many of the always before firmly believed to be immutable truths - which have, for so many long years, upheld his reality and strengthened the will and resolve of mind and spirit alike, in dealing with that vision of reality - leaving him adrift in a deep fog of dizzied weakness, mind and body alike curiously empty of all feelings, all sense of urgency or even true responsiveness, dazed and wrapped in a sluggish state of pause, as though he exists as little more than the silence between breaths or the temporary but inviolate cessation that comes between words, separating and therefore completing and giving meaning thereby to both transitory forms of being.

"Dooku and I have been named the heads of this Order: Obi-Wan and Anakin are our seconds-in-command and, in truth, are our Masters in many areas, not the least of which is that of the heart. You were given a choice: learn how to bend, or else be broken by the Force itself. You have already promised that you will learn how to truly hear and obey the will of the Force by learning how to adapt to the universe as it truly is, rather than how you have grown accustomed to perceiving it. But this is the very least of what you must do, if you wish to retain your rank as Masters within this Order," the Force spirit of Qui-Gon Jinn pronounces, his words both a warning and a promise. Like a distant knocking, they reverberate against Yoda, as yet only faintly stirring the falsely calm stillness of his quiet and dazed emptiness.

"There will be many changes to the organization of the Order in the days to come, the first and greatest of which will be the utter abolishment of both the rule and the attitude that prohibits relationships of love and feelings of attachment among members of the Jedi Order. Jedi are meant to be the guardians and protectors of Light in the cosmos, and Light is the principality of vibrant growth, of joyous love and fair balance: the New Jedi Bendu Order has been founded upon the principle of love, and it will be utterly dedicated to this mandate precisely because of the fact that love and compassion, balance and justice, energy and growth, will be the pillars that ground it and upon which all of its members will lean for strength," Dooku patiently elaborates. And although his words are calm and the tone and timbre of his voice are quieter than Qui-Gon's brash and almost angry-seeming words, his voice breaks with greater and ever so slightly yet steadily increasing force against Yoda's stillness. By the time Dooku has finished speaking, a slight stuttering shiver has managed to work its way down past the blank surface of that vast and arid emptiness and into the heart of the ancient Master. As if from a distance, then, he begins to become aware of the fact that his heart is pounding, as though he has just run some exhaustive course, racing on the ragged edge of endurance that flickers but fitfully within the deep sustaining embrace of the Force.

"We will undo every harmful change, every so-called reformation, that has been inflicted upon this Order since the days when the first band of Jedi Knights departed Tython to dedicate themselves to the preservation, spread, and increase of Light within the galaxy by joining forces with their brethren among the Paladins of Chatos Academy and the Followers of Palawa and were rediscovered by their predecessors within the Order of Dai Bendu," Obi-Wan promises, his gaze once again steadily directed both inwards and outwards, giving him the appearance of being both intently focused on and strangely detached from the ten former members of the Jedi High Council he is looking upon. Underneath the combined weight of that unflinchingly honest gaze and those unforgiving words, Yoda's mind flashes totally blank, for an instant blotted utterly white with an emotion so far beyond mere terror that his entire being - body and mind, spirit and heart and soul - violently jerks in an instinctive effort towards rejection. Thrown as easily and irrefutably as that from emptiness to the full-blown panic of utter shock, Yoda sways drunkenly, only his grip upon his gimer stick keeping him from falling to the ground, his entire body trembling helplessly with reaction, shaking like a wild thing caught in some hunter's snare. Then, as Obi-Wan implacably continues to speak, panic rises within the diminutive form of the old Master until he is choking upon its bitterly acidic metallic tang, pained tears streaming heedlessly down his face in reaction. "The many petty and fearfully restrictive adjustments inflicted upon the Order by the Ruusan Reformation; the canonization of the so-called Jedi Code and the entirely irrational conflation of what are, in truth, utterly arbitrary modes of behavior - such as the aforementioned rules governing the supposedly solely proper methodology for training up Jedi apprentices - with that Code; the dangerous centralization of the Jedi Order within the Temple here on Coruscant; the entirely unnecessary abolishment of the Jedi Assembly and the abandonment of the Jedi Convocation in favor of the smaller and far too centrally powerful Jedi High Council of Twelve; the illogical total replacement of the Praxeum system of teaching with the much more limited and rigid clan and Master-Padawan systems of training: each and every difference that has been allowed to creep carelessly within or invited with open and willfully beckoning arms inside of this Order will be undone. In fact, they are all, as of this moment, permanently abolished."

"But - but that would destroy every principle that the Order has been built on!" Even from so far within the grips of panic, Yoda cannot be surprised by the fact that it is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi - who, with his binary brain, has long been one of the most coldly logical and predictably rule-bound Masters within the Order - who manages to form the first coherent protest, the extent of the Cerean Jedi Master's focus upon the issue at hand so absolute that he does not even notice Yoda's rising and shockingly obvious distress. "How can you justify this? How can you possibly believe that this will be good for the Order, or that this is what the Force wants of us?"

"The Force has blessed Obi-Wan and I in our love, much as it blessed Masters Qui-Gon and Dooku. Together, we have done what the combined might of the Jedi Order has been unable to do: we defeated Darth Sidious, destroying the Sith, and cleansed the Force of the taint. Do you truly need more proof than that?" is Anakin's immediate and slightly incredulous response. The young man's grieved indignance strikes Yoda with all the power of a full contact body blow. His entire small body jerks, for several agonizingly long hanging suspended upon the balance of his gimer stick alone as his legs attempt to fold up and the floor tries to rise out from underneath him, his whole body vainly trying to curl inward about the pain of the additional shock of Anakin's unshielded and righteously blazing anger.

"That the Force has obviously blessed the four of you in an unusually strong manner, we cannot doubt or deny," is Coleman Kcaj's measured reply, the Ongree Master carefully avoiding looking in Yoda's direction despite the choked sounds that are escaping from the Grand Master's shamefully wavering form as Yoda struggles to force words of his own past the fear obstructing his throat. "What we can and do doubt is the wisdom of such an abundance of radical changes to the way that the Jedi Order operates and has successfully operated for thousands of years, since its founding on Ossus. These reformations you speak of having occurred within the Order's past are unknown to us. What proof can you offer as to their veracity?"

"My mind is as an open book, to any and all who wish to partake of the knowledge that the Force has given me, in the far-sight visions I have recently experienced. But perhaps it would be easier, if proof is all you seek, to ask Master Yoda about the conspiracy of silence that has been perpetrated against this Order by its Grand Masters since the time of the Old Sith Wars," Obi-Wan declares, his tone of voice deceptively nonchalant for the unveiling of one of the most jealously guarded secrets of the Jedi Order.

At these words, Master Yoda flinches again, even more violently than before, and his ears flatten back along his skull, his eyes narrowing to slits, as though he were struggling against some immense inner pain. "How - how know /you - how /could know you of - " he finally raggedly gasps, forcing the words out past that painful obstruction in his throat, in that moment looking every day of his nearly nine hundred standard years of age.

"Did you honestly believe you could hide such a thing forever? Do you truly believe you have ever been able to hide such a thing from the Force?" Obi-Wan's eyes and voice are alike so coldly matter of fact, so utterly empty of compassion, that the ancient Master staggers once again, bodily, clutching desperately at his chest with his right hand and nearly falling in the process as he loses half of his grip upon the gimer stick that has been holding him up.

"Decided - decided it was, long ago. Long before to the Order I came. By those who had survived the wars - the Sith wars precipitated first by the fall of Exar Kun and then by Revan's fall - by those who were much wiser and more powerful in the Force than I. Decided, it was!" Yoda stubbornly repeats, his breathing made so shallow, so erratic, by pain and panic that his words come out only in ragged fits and starts. "Known, it was, that much too dangerous a power love represents! Jealousy, love engenders. Fear. Possessiveness. Closely upon its heels, hatred and strife forever follow. For love, for the want of possessing it always, Xendor sought power - power enough to extend and preserve life. And the Great Schism followed. For love - out of hatred over its loss - the threads of battle begun by her lover, Xendor, Arden Lyn took up. For love of life - out of the fear of losing life and power over it - the Hundred-Years Darkness of the Second Great Schism came. And for love of power, for jealousy and envy at the thought of having to share that power, against the Jedi and the Republic the Sith came. And came. And came. And kept returning to battle, by hatred and fear and love of power spurred. At the root of all strife, is love! The cause of the downfall of all our many brethren lost to the Dark and to the Sith. Love and love/ alone,/ the core emotion, the inciting event, the driving momentum, always is! Divides us, it does! Sets us against one another, at cross-purposes to the will of the Force, the cyclical path of nature, it does! Too dangerous, it is! Too disruptive, too destructive, it potentially is! Decided, it was! Known, it was! No questioning the peril, is there! Obvious, the peril was and is! Ridiculous to question it!"

"You believe the Force is ridiculous, then, to have supported Obi-Wan and I in our love - the love that was powerful enough to defeat and destroy the Sith Lord Sidious?" Anakin demands, a dangerous light in his eyes.

"Not - not what I said, that is! Twist my words, you do! Listen to me, you/ must!"/ Yoda only cries out, frustration obvious in every line of his still shaking body. Propelled by his panic and desperation to a place beyond rationality, the wizened little Master throws himself into the Force, hurtling every bit of his own not inconsiderable personal power into emphasizing those last five words, trying to make of them an irresistible Force-command.

In response, though, Anakin merely gives voice to a short and mirthless bark of laughter, all of Master Yoda's power breaking up and falling away to nothingness upon the staggeringly formidable barrier of the natural shields that their shared strength within the Force provides for him and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon and Dooku - and now, also, Bail Organa, it would seem, judging by the growing sense of outrage bubbling up from within the (technically still) Crown Prince and Senator of Alderaan. "There are only three things that I must do in my life, Yoda, and listening to you is most assuredly/ not/ one of them!"

Yoda is already opening his mouth to respond to this indignity when Obi-Wan declares, a deadly earnest and unbreakable compulsion in every disconcertingly richly musical syllable, "You will speak only truth here, Yoda, or else you will be silent. We have neither the patience nor the time to listen to more of your fearful and feeble excuses. Love is love. Hatred is hatred. Anger is anger. Fear is fear. You may as well try to call water, fire, or air, stone, as claim that love can be hatred or anger or fear or indeed anything other than what it is: one true natural component of all that the Force is and strives to create within the cosmos; a natural twin to light and to growth both; and the natural counter to balance all that exists of evil, of the senseless destructive power of entropy, in all the worlds./ Love,/ Yoda. Not compassion. But love. And well you know it, in spite of the many truths that you have deliberately helped to hide from your fellows within this Order and the lies that you have allowed to be preached within this Temple as if they were truth!"

Yoda immediately opens his mouth to protest, to argue, to correct, but the obstruction in his throat is suddenly so solid that he cannot even breathe past it. As he struggles - futilely and yet with increasingly frantic wildness against that blockage, like a plug of steel shoved down his throat as a stopper is plunged into a vial - a veil of smoky red gradually descends over his sight.

"You should not struggle so in the service of a lie, Yoda. You will burst the bounds of your heart if you persist in this folly. In spite of all the harm you have helped to perpetrate against it and this galaxy, the Force still has a use for you. We will heal you, if you are truly determined to do yourself harm, but I warn you now: we will no gentler than we absolutely must, in order to preserve the life within your body," Obi-Wan quietly declares, finally turning all of his attention to the visibly struggling and shaking Grand Master as Yoda begins to claw helplessly at his throat - choking upon the nothingness that is forbidding him from speaking the words that lie so plainly within his mind, words describing the truth of reality as Yoda has always accepted it, restricting him so firmly and absolutely that his breathing is actually being constricted - the open threat of his words baldly mirrored in the coldness of his manner and the scorching contempt within his gaze upon Yoda. "You should cease this foolishness. It will get you nowhere. The lies you have helped to pass off as truth will never again harm another Jedi, never again warp and stunt the soul of even one more living being. We will not allow you to keep this conspiracy of lies intact. Let it go, Yoda. Take this chance to learn and use its example to grow into true wisdom. You are good, at heart: we are well aware of the fact that you are good, though the core of light and love at the heart of you has been all but smothered in the choking caul of fear. Let your heart be your guide in this, not the lies and the fears that have clouded your mind. You gave your word, to us, before these witnesses and the Force, to learn to bend your stubbornly proud neck, to learn to embrace and to obey the Force's will. Fulfill your vow. You will be silent, or else you will speak truth."

"Do not turn your eyes to me, Yoda," Anakin snaps, voice unbending as durasteel, before Yoda can even do more than begin to look away from Obi-Wan's terrifyingly implacable face. "I well remember how Obi-Wan and I were both told, many a time, that our greatest failing was our shared need for certainty. You should not deal advice that you are not willing to take, yourself. If you are not willing to follow your own precepts, all you do is prove the falseness of your words."

"You are better than this, Master Yoda. You /should /be - you /must be - better than this, or the Force would not wish to help you so badly. The Force wants you for a true ally, Master Yoda. Let it in! Let its Light into your heart, where it so longs to be again," Qui-Gon pleads, his voice roughened, his accent broadening, with his pain over Yoda's inability to accept the truth that is being offered him. "Earlier, you agreed to learn from us, Master Yoda. If you meant what you said, then take my advice in this, please, and let loose of your pain and your fear! It has been twisting you for years, leading you to make decisions that you would know otherwise are wrong, turning you against the will of the Force and blinding you to the danger of your own pride, your own complacency. Don't let it rule your life, Master! That way lies only suffering and darkness - as you of all people should very well know!"/

"Qui-Gon is right, Master Yoda. Let it go! You /must let go of these lies! This is not the truth of you. It is not reality and it is not the truth of you. I know you, my old mentor. You know better than this. You are better than this. Let go!" Dooku all but begs, his shockingly young face creased with anguished concern. "You will /do yourself harm if you do not let go, and soon!"

Truly desperate now, as the lowering veil of red over his sight darkens towards blackness, Yoda turns (almost toppling over in his graceless haste) towards Mace Windu, his trusted second-in-command on the High Council. But Mace only shakes his head in response to Yoda's agonized and silent plea. "Don't look at me, Master. Theirs is a true binding of truth: I should not and I will not interfere with such a thing. You cannot speak now unless it is the truth," Mace shrugs, his dark eyes narrowing with suspicion. "If what you wished to speak was truth, then you wouldn't be bound. They're right: you will injure yourself if you keep pushing. Why are you still struggling? What could possibly be so important to you that you would so foolishly risk your life, Master?"

Gasping, his small lungs heaving like a bellows, Yoda manages to gasp out, "Preservation - of - order, of - the Order!"

"Under balance, total domination by either order or chaos can only lead to death of one kind or death of another. Under the unyielding restriction of your order," Obi-Wan all but spits the word out, as if the shape of it within his mouth were a foulness, "the Order was indeed well on its way to death. Four of us have been allowed to stop that from happening because we were able to find wisdom and trust enough to abandon ourselves to the guidance of the Force. Our love has given us strength and the Force has blessed us by giving us this one last chance to save the Order. You will not stop us from taking that chance, Yoda. Accept that. And let go of your fears. The Order will become as it once was, as it was always meant to be. None will be turned away or cast out of this Order, neither because of age or emotionality or indeed any other reason than the immovable wish of that being to exist outside of the Order or the Force's implacable wish to cast someone out from its embrace. None. Not even you, Yoda."

By struggling mightily, Yoda manages to force out two more words, in spite of the white flashes dancing before his eyes. "But - risk - !"

"The risk is certain death and destruction, along your path. Our way is embraced by the Force. There is at least some risk in any endeavor, but then, there is little indeed of value worth doing that does not come with such risk," Anakin counters. Then, shrugging and offering up a shocking sliver of a genuine smile, he adds, "You taught me that lesson, yourself, Yoda. With us, at least, you can be sure that the Force will be a strong ally."

"You must choose this yourself, Master. We cannot force you," Dooku sorrowfully adds.

"No more than we can force any of you," Qui-Gon elaborates, turning his attention to the other nine Jedi Masters ranged in a line behind Yoda.

"I believe I have heard - and seen - quite enough to be convinced of the need for change," Mace promptly declares when Qui-Gon's gaze finds him. "Old friends, if I have believed in error - if have helped to perpetuate a lie - then I would learn of my mistake and I would make amends for the wrongs I have committed. I will gladly join you."

As Mace boldly squares his shoulders and makes to step forward, Kit Fisto also appears to come to some decision. "And I as well," the Nautolan declares, his trademark toothy smile for once completely absent from his face as he bows - shallowly, true, and with his gaze focused almost solely on Obi-Wan all the while, but with the humbleness of genuine respect - and strides forward to join Mace.

"And I as well, old friend," Plo Koon tells Qui-Gon, the Kel Dor Jedi Master inclining his head in turn to Qui-Gon, Dooku, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and even Bail, in a gesture of deep respect, smiling at Master Fisto as the Nautolan carefully beckons his holoprojector forward so that Master Plo Koon appears to float across the room to his side.

"I, too," Saesee Tiin echoes, the Iktotchi's green-gold eyes lowering in a sign of respect before he moves forward to join them.

"I, too, put my trust in you, Masters Kenobi and Skywalker, Masters Jinn and Dooku," Shaak Ti carefully declares, her gaze steady as she crosses over to their side.

"I, as well. Kenobi and Skywalker have long been the moral compass of this Order," Stass Allie adds, her smile genuinely happy as she shadows Shaak Ti across the room, her movements translating easily across the distances because Shaak Ti is carefully carrying her holoprojector.

"Quite true," Agen Kolar agrees, nodding once, decisively, and briskly stepping forward, motioning for Mace to transport his own holoprojector across the room - a task that Master Windu promptly carries out for his friend. "I, too, would be counted with you."

A heartbeat later, Coleman Kcaj is bowing deeply, declaring, "And I, as well, Masters. I am entirely satisfied with your honesty and would be numbered among those who are with you," and nodding his appreciation at Saesee Tiin as the Jedi Master waves his holoprojector forward.

There is a long moment of quiet then, as the silent form of Ki-Adi-Mundi comes under scrutiny from both a badly shaken and still shaking Yoda and the twelve Jedi Masters - plus one newly made Padawan - who are ranged across the room from him. The Cerean's distinctively shaped head is bowed low, Ki-Adi-Mundi obviously deep in thought, his posture in that moment oddly reminiscent of Obi-Wan when he is pondering some troublesome situation, since Ki-Adi-Mundi's left arm is hugging his waist while his right hand covers his chin, his fingers stroking idly over his beard. After several more long beats of silence, the Cerean Master nods, once, and his arms fall laxly down by his sides as his head tips upright. "You were not assigned to my care for long, Anakin Skywalker, but you more than proved yourself an honorable and loyal man in that time. I trusted you when you told me that Master Kenobi's Force-signature had resurfaced, and I see no real reason not to trust you now. Sith'ari; Chosen One; Force spirits: it makes no never-mind to me what it is that you call yourselves, any of you. What matters to me is what the Force makes of you. And it seems clear to me, now, that the Force has made the four of you its champions. I may not know what this 'conspiracy of silence' is that you have spoken of, Master Kenobi, in regards to the Grand Masters of the Order, but I find that it is logical to believe that there is fault with the constitution of this Order, given Master Yoda's inability to protest against the many claims that the four of you have made about unnecessary and even harmful changes to both the strictures and actual organization of the Order, when under a compulsion of truth. The only rational response is to address that fault or faults by changing any and all problematic rules governing this Order. I would therefore be honored indeed to join your ranks," he concludes, his nod almost a bow, before he politely signals to Mace to transport his holoprojector across the room so that he may join them.

And then the physical forms of Jedi Masters Mace Windu, Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Kit Fisto, the blue holoimages of Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Coleman Kcaj, Stass Allie, and Shaak Ti, and the still luminescent figures of Dooku, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Bail Organa are all standing together, all looking at Yoda - who, now that he has ceased struggling so hard to deny the claims leveled about the harmful nature of the many changes made to the Jedi Order over the years and the immediate need to reverse each and every one of those changes, has been able to breathe with some measure of ease again - and all expectantly waiting for a response of some kind from the little Master, now that he has physically been left alone in his stance against the changes promised for the Order.

Surprisingly, though, it is Anakin who speaks first. "Before you futilely begin to try to struggle against us some more, I am going to tell you something that a very wise woman once told me. You can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting. Listen to your feelings. You know what's right. All that remains now is to do what is right. Because as a very wise Jedi Master once told me, there is no trying involved in being a Jedi. One either does a thing and truly is a Jedi, or one does not do a thing and is not a Jedi in truth."

"Anakin is right, you know. If you would only calm yourself, you could see it too. Let us help you, Yoda. Please. Give me your hand. Perhaps I can help you to see, if you will allow me," Obi-Wan offers, his gaze no less forbidding than before but his words almost . . . well, not kind, perhaps, but neutral enough to hint at understanding, at least, if not true sympathy. "You tried to help me, in your own way, when I was but a boy. Let me help you, now. Let me see."

Brokenly, Yoda merely mourns, "How - how to this, can it have come? What - what so awry went, that to this we are brought? What wrong did I?" he whispers, asking the question as much of himself as of the young Jedi Master standing so calmly before him.

"It is not so much what you did, Yoda. It is what you did not do," Anakin replies, his voice so quietly certain that the truth strikes Yoda like a blow.

While he is still standing there, flatfooted and stunned almost senseless from the pain of that blow, Obi-Wan strides forward, saying, "I can help you, if you'll only let me. Give me your hand, Yoda. Let me see how bad things truly are. Let me see the truth of you." He would have refused, then, but he could not. Obi-Wan is too fast for him to refuse: the young Jedi Master is reaching out and capturing his right hand before he can think to flinch away, and then Anakin is reaching out and grasping Obi-Wan's left hand in his right hand, joining him in his endeavor to aid Yoda. Even as stunned and undeniably still shocky as he is, the ancient little Master has enough sense to try to steel himself then, fully expecting an outpouring of violently unbridled power to come blasting through him as he feels the two Jedi reaching out for him through the Force. Surprisingly, though, the touch of their combined strength is as warm and soothing as the touch of a kind hand, a touch so careful, so light, so deceptively unthreatening, that Yoda is yielding to that gentle pressure almost before he can even gather up enough of his scattered wits to realize what is happening to him. Their light fills him, then, a flood of blazing brilliance washing through his mind, his heart, his soul, overwhelming him with its glory and laying him bare before them. In an instant, then, Yoda has no choice but to see the terrible truth of the fear and pain that is within him, which like a soft maggot has found his hollowed out core, soothing and comforting him as it nestled there, growing over the long and far too empty years to fill the emptiness that it has insidiously worked to enlarge even as it filled that void. Now a mailed and glittering malignancy, the self's armor against self-knowledge, it raises its claws in mock salute and leers, chucking in delight over his horror, its long purpose fulfilled.

"No!" It is not so much a scream as it is a moan, with all the intensity of all the emotions he has denied himself and deluded himself in believing he has not truly felt for - Force! - not just handfuls of decades now, but actual centuries of his long life. That there has been a potential within him for evil, that there has even been darkness within him, he has never truly sought to deny. But - /this?! /This is an abomination so great that Yoda collapses helplessly into the floor, retching violently with the need to get this sickness, this filth, out of him. His eyes fall shut and he squeezes them tight, helplessly, against the sight of the monstrosity that his paranoia, his fear, has invited within and secretly nourished at the heart of him, but for the eyes of the mind there are no such blinds to shelter behind. Obi-Wan and Anakin's twinned light floods and illuminates him, leaving no dark depths, no shadowy recessed corners, no elaborately twisted labyrinthine turning untouched, unlighted, revealing everything that is within him and painting his true extent of his failure in unforgivingly stark relief. Tears stream heedlessly down his face, grey with shock and so crumpled with pain that the ancient Master looks as though he has been dealt a deathblow. "Forgive me," he whispers, unable to do aught else. He would have been glad, then, to die, to pass on into the Force and to know no more of his failings, but nothing so easy as death is offered him.

Instead, "Is this what you wanted?" Obi-Wan asks, his voice strangely compassionate. Yoda shakes his head, immediately, sickened at the thought. But it is not enough. He needs to answer aloud.

"No," he hoarsely but fervently promises. "Not what I wished, is this."

"Did you consciously know what you were doing?" Anakin asks then, his voice surprisingly calm.

"No." Yoda remembers all the warnings, though, all the signs that something had been gravely amiss, and how sure he had been that he knew better, that he had everything well in hand and under control, that he had outgrown the warnings against pride, against certainty, and that all would be well, in the end, because he would make things be well . . .

"Then throw that poodoo filth out."

Yoda merely stares at Anakin Skywalker's oddly serene face, distantly surprised that he can see anything through his tears. Throw it /out? /As if it could /honestly be that simple! How could he ever even begin to hope to - /

"You must," Obi-Wan declares, the words a command despite their gentle delivery. Then, as if he can read every thought within Yoda's dizzily spinning mind, "You must: no one else can do it for you."

He has no more strength in him; he can feel what little courage remains running out of him rapidly, like blood pouring from a mortal wound. "I - I cannot," he breathes, helplessly, hopelessly, sure that his fear will eat him alive and that he will perish, not only a failure but an oath-breaker, something so vile that the Force itself would have finally turned away from him and cast him roughly aside.

"You were the Grand Master of the Jedi Order," Anakin unexpectedly declares. "You can. What's more, you will. It is the right thing to do, Yoda. So do it."

"There is no try," Obi-Wan adds, with a serenity so absolute that it is almost mocking.

And yet . . . and yet . . . what if, after all, it is that easy? What if they are right? They've already been right about so many things, and they made it look so easy, surrendering to the Force the way they had, so fearlessly, with no hesitation whatsoever . . .

Yoda's mind fills, then, with the vision of a long ago childhood dream: a bright figure in crisp robes, standing at the top of the stairs to the Temple and proudly holding aloft an ignited and vibrantly brilliant green lightsaber. The image flickers fitfully in and out of focus, shifting in tides of pain and weakness, but he cannot avoid seeing its shadow now, the dark nest of fears that had originally brought that dream to life. Helplessness, humiliation, pain, loneliness and isolation, fear of a meaningless life, a solitary death, and nothingness afterwards . . . Yoda has feared these things and, in fearing them, made of that fear a dream of power, of freedom, of untouchable strength and courage. He would never suffer such a fate, for he would be the hero, the one with the blade of light, the one who would always be above such mundane and petty suffering . . .

"Your fears are actually quite common, Yoda. They are as normal and as healthy as the desire for comfort, for acceptance, for love," Anakin tells him then, as if he too can read Yoda's every thought. "What you need to do is realize that it's alright for you to fall prey to same fears that plague the rest of us mere mortals."

"You don't have to deny your emotions, Yoda. You only need to master yourself," Obi-Wan patiently adds, explaining what is actually necessary, what they are asking of him. "There is no shame in feeling. The only shame comes in willfully allowing such things as fear power enough over you that you give in and consent to becoming a slave to whatever fear grips you."

"You are a Jedi, Yoda. So be a Jedi now," Anakin adds, quietly but firmly encouraging him to act."Master yourself."

Surprisingly, the image of his ancient dream steadies, then, and does not fade. And in a brief but shining moment of clarity, Yoda understands that he has done is to build against those fears a vision of power not wholly selfish - one with power to protect not only himself, but others as well. And that vision - however incomplete and naive it might have been in those first early days - is one that has always been worth following. Always. For it led not away from fear, as a dream of rule might do, but back into it. The pattern of his life - and he could see it, then, clear and far away and painted in bright colors - is as an intricate song, or the complex weaving of roots through earth that support the lofty heights of a towering tree. There deep below are the dream's roots, tangled in dark fear and despair, nourished in the death of friends, the bones of the strong, the blood of the living; and there high above are the images of his dream, bright in the sun like banners or the flowering of a tree in spring. And to be that banner, or that flowering branch, meant being nourished by the same fears, meant encompassing fear, not rejecting it blindly . . .

"Out of me," Yoda whispers then, forcing himself to focus on that leering and armored monster within him, the malice that has led him to be willfully blind to all of the many mistakes being perpetrated and perpetuated by both the Order and the Republic against the innocent of the galaxy . . . "No power over me do I grant to you. Fear you, I do not. Fear knowing myself, I will not. Mortal am I, and fallible. Know that, I do. Acknowledge that, I do. So out of me! Out! Allow you to cloud my senses, I no longer shall! A Jedi I am - a Jedi I will always be. Out of me! Fear myself for feeling, I shall not!" Yoda declares, his voice steadily rising in both strength and purpose. Disgust at himself - at the malevolently hypocritical and purposefully self-blind and utterly selfish presence within him that he has fed upon his fears and his paranoias and which has armored him against self-knowledge and blinded him so that he could no longer see any of his own failings, no matter how terrible those failings might be - gives him both strength and purpose enough to act. "Out!" he commands, feeling Obi-Wan and Anakin reach out and join their power to his, fueling his efforts with the blinding holocaust of their combined strength -

- and then, that simply, that easily, the malfeasance is gone, fled away down the wind of his righteousness, leaving him feeling lightheaded, empty, and curiously untroubled. Not free of pain, nor free of fear, but free of the need to react to such things in all the old ways. For in that moment, Yoda has no anger left, no hatred, no shame, no desire for vengeance or retribution, no fear over the far too many terrible mistakes he has made or the numberless horrible wrongs that might still be committed in response to those earlier errors and those earlier failings, nothing at all but a vast and quiet sense of peace.

"Ah," Obi-Wan blinks down at him and smiles, slowly but surely, until his face lights up with a warmth and a light that are as palpable as the warmth and light of the Alderaanian sun on a clear summer day. "There you are, Master Yoda. Congratulations. Welcome back. The Order and the Force have missed you."

***