Title: Stand Alone
Author: SilverDragon
Summary: Inspired by an Episode I Tone Poem. Obi-Wan is accused of murder. Now the Knight faces the wrath of the entire Jedi Order...and this time, Qui-Gon isn't around to help him.
In a time of change,
A young man holds in his hands,
The fire of a dying age,
To take the step from student to master,
He must find the strength,
To stand alone.
Prologue
"You know," Siri Tachi remarked calmly, tucking her short blonde hair back. "Twenty years we've known each other, twenty years since we first met – "
A smile graced Alyxander's handsome features. "Do you still think of me as a blundering fool?"
Siri gave an easy laugh. "I remember the long talking to Yoda had for me after that! I couldn't really be blamed though, could I?" she smiled, "I was only eight and you were ten. You had tripped me first," she added pointedly.
"Only because you were in the way," Alyxander smiled at her, short brown locks falling over his gray eyes. Siri grinned back.
"And I remember how happy I was when you asked me to dance," Siri snorted.
Alyxander rubbed his jaw tenderly. "I still remember how hard you managed to smack me after I accidentally tripped you yet again!"
"The slap was an accident," Siri defended feebly. "Just a uncontrollable surge of emotion through a physical act."
"You know," Alyxander whispered, suddenly only a few inches from Siri. He tenderly brushed hair, a pleased grin taking place on his face, "There's the padawan reunion in a few weeks. If you promise you won't let that uncontrollable surge of emotion through a physical act happen again, I'd be glad to take you."
Siri lightly smacked him, "Just make sure I don't need to resort to it again," she said reasonably.
Alyxander leaned over and took her lips in his own, caressing them and losing himself in the warmth and closeness of the kiss.
Stand Alone
Obi-Wan sighed and glanced out the window again. Below him, the traffic of Coruscant flowed as smoothly as ever, a fitting opposite to his inner emotions. But he was a Jedi and Jedi didn't show their emotions; there was no part of the Jedi Code Obi-Wan hated more than that.
Especially when under his present circumstances. Obi-Wan sighed again, breathing deeply before tugging his cloak tighter around him. It was cold. But the heavy brown fabric did nothing against the seeping chill. He needed rest. Yes, rest. Rest and a chance to forget everything.
Everything had happened too fast for him to handle. It was out of control now. But this time, there would be no Qui-Gon to help him.
Obi-Wan wheeled, half ready to go back to his quarters, but then hesitated. No, resting wasn't an option readily available to him. Meditating, yes, Obi-Wan thought dryly. But not resting.
As if sensing his thoughts, the door suddenly flew open with a loud bang. A dark shape, dressed in Jedi robes strode in, her booted feet ringing on the metal tiles of the room. Her brown hair was hidden in the folds of her hood, and her face in the shadows of the room, but her eyes were flashing with barely contained anger. "Obi-Wan," she said, her tone even.
Obi-Wan whirled at the sound of his name and his right hand dropped slightly down to his lightsaber. Quickly, he covered the hostile motion by crossing his arms, wincing slightly at the fact that he had been ready to draw his lightsaber. "Siri," he replied neutrally.
The two Jedi Knights were approaching their thirties and had been friends for nearly a decade. That friendship, it seemed, was on the verge of collapsing. "I want to know," Siri said, and her voice was strained, but calm, "What happened in that room?"
Obi-Wan drew his cloak tighter around him. "You have my report."
"I have a report. I want facts."
"A report is comprised of facts." Obi-Wan studied his friend's face calmly.
With a faint mutter, Siri threw her hood off her face, shooting Obi-Wan the hardest look she could muster. "A Jedi is dead, Obi-Wan Kenobi," she bit out, her anger evident in both her posture and gaze, "and you were the only person with him."
Obi-Wan circled backwards. "Are you afraid to say his name?"
"I'll rephrase. Alyxander was killed. By the Force attack. The only people in that room were you and the Supreme Chancellor. He doesn't know how to use the Force. So that leaves one person in the room who could have done it."
"Are you accusing me of murder?"
Siri took three quick steps forward, rounding on Obi-Wan so fast that he again had to fight an urge to draw his weapon. "I am not accusing. I am saying."
To her surprise, Obi-Wan laughed bitterly. "You don't know me at all."
"I know enough of you." Siri took in a sharp breath, making a conscious effort to rein in her feelings. Her fingers danced across her lightsaber hilt.
Obi-Wan looked annoyed for the first time. "That is enough, Siri. I have already suffered hours of questioning under the Council. I don't need your accusations as well."
"You deserve them," Siri hissed, all thoughts of calmness flying right back out the window. "You killed someone."
"What can I do to prove you otherwise?" Obi-Wan demanded, trying to waive off the chill in the room. His voice echoed around the training room and he heard the desperation in his own voice. Faint goose bumps rose up on his skin and the heavy brown cloak did absolutely nothing to deflect it.
Siri fixed an intense gaze on him, "When you admit you killed him – "
"I can't tell that lie. Not even to bring you closure."
"It's not closure!" Siri spat out at him fiercely. "It's a matter of life and death, Obi-Wan." She reached for her lightsaber. "If you won't admit it, I'll have to make you."
To her surprise, Obi-Wan laughed bitterly. "Good. It was getting boring." With those words, his hand fell once more on the hilt of his lightsaber, only this time he didn't hold back.
***
With a backwards leap, Obi-Wan met the first blow and twisted it aside, paralleling his lightsaber to Siri's. Both blades of energy swirled and tested the air, crackling with barely contained energy. The two blades flashed through the air and crossed once more. Siri wrenched her wrist away and came from the left, driving her blade forward through a haze of anger.
The blue blade arched swiftly through the air in response and met every blow, parrying and deflecting. Both knew the other's moves. Frustrated by the cold defense, she flipped through the air and swung downwards.
Obi-Wan twisted aside, but the violet blade left a scarred mark on his cloak. Obi-Wan shrugged the useless thing off and reversed direction, dropping to one knee to deflect a low blow, then rebounding backwards on her hands to land and assume another defensive pose, lightsaber held outwards. Siri came at him eagerly.
With a flash of light, Obi-Wan leapt and kicked solidly. Siri stumbled backwards, one hand going to her chest where the kick had landed. Glaring at Obi-Wan, she started forward, but Obi-Wan had deactivated his lightsaber. "This is over," Obi-Wan hissed.
"It is not," Siri snapped.
Without acknowledging her words, Obi-Wan scooped up his fallen cloak and strode out the room.
***
"You fought in the Temple hallways," Mace regarded him sternly.
Obi-Wan nodded coolly, meeting Mace's stoic gaze with his own. Brown eyes clashed against blue ones before Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Yes, Master."
Mace sighed, rising. "Obi-Wan, you know what I think about this situation. You were not responsible for Alyxander's death and yet..." he shrugged. "This has to look bad for someone."
Obi-Wan bowed his head.
"Knight Kenobi," Mace paused, pacing the room. "We are rapidly running out of options here. The Jedi are already distrusted."
"I understand, Master," he said firmly.
"If Qui-Gon were here..." Mace said softly, almost as a prayer.
"No." Obi-Wan stiffened, "Don't go down that road."
Mace gave him a sad smile. "Then you understand must be done."
Obi-Wan hesitated. "What about my Padawan?" he asked quietly.
"Anakin will be transferred to another Master." Mace sighed heavily again. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. There is no other way. We can't go around pointing fingers at the Supreme Chancellor."
"I understand," Obi-Wan repeated dully. He rose from his position, unclipping his lightsaber and placing it in Mace's outstretched hand. Then he turned and left the room, cloak billowing behind him.
"Necessary that was," Yoda said from the shadows of the room.
Mace glared at the diminutive Jedi Master behind him. "You feel this will change the course of the future?" he asked. "Cutting one of our finest Jedi Knights loose?"
Yoda hesitated, tapping his gimer stick against the floor. "Stand alone, he must."
The End