Part Fourteen

Padme looked across the Courscanti sky, admiring the beauty that only a city could bring with the straight lines of skyscrapers perpendicular to the busy flows of air traffic. Chaotic order as citizens defied nature with machinery, lights, all milling about their ordered lives in buildings that bore no order other than reaching for the heavens. There was a beauty to it. But it wasn't the kind of beauty that Padme thought she could truly appreciate. She'd always preferred the melding of nature and stonework with the aged copper work of Theed. The balance of tree lined streets with the majestic Solleu River with the straight walls and curved roofs.

They were approaching a floating landing platform, where transport had already been arranged to take her to the apartments she and her staff would be staying during the trial. She could see a neat row of airtaxis lined up for her, her handmaidens, and likely many of the other passengers. Padme wondered offhand if one of them was there for Obi-Wan and what sort of arrangements he'd made for his stay. While he was certainly making more credits with his new mediation business, there was no denying that he hadn't had the business long and likely didn't have much saved.

Padme's thoughts paused as her eyes narrowed.

Down on the platform was a group of people in hooded cloaks of various sizes and shapes. One in particular drew her eye and that was the tiny green-skinned form of Master Yoda.

Her lips thinned. When she'd overheard the ultimatum that Yoda had presented to Obi-Wan, there was no denying that Yoda had sounded like a parent or grandparent trying to reign in an unruly child. Obi-Wan's decision to stay on Naboo had hurt the small Jedi, but Padme couldn't bring herself to have any sympathy for the exalted master. Yoda had returned to his Order and kept going. Obi-Wan had struggled. A great deal. And Obi-Wan had left because he wouldn't abandon his family, even if he never acknowledged it as such and shut down whenever she dared push it.

Padme was Nabooan. Her people were descended from nomadic tribes and she understood how important one's clan was. For all that Nabooan parents had to deal with willful or unruly children, just like any other civilization, the one thing family never did was abandon one another. Even if helping was watching someone fail, one was still there. Because without family, one had nothing.

It was why her people loved her so much. For Padme, her entire planet was her family and she would never abandon them. They knew and understood that, no matter what they thought of whatever her actual political views were.

And one of the newest members of her family, Obi-Wan Kenobi, would not face the Jedi alone. She would be remiss if she didn't do anything.

"Captain Panaka," she said, every inch the Queen. "Find Knight Kenobi. He will disembark with us."

"Yes, your Majesty."

She stared out the window for some time, reigning in her feelings. For all of her emotional maturity, she understood that she was fifteen and that she had hormones that were changing her body, making her prone to mood swings as her body developed to adulthood. Part of why her people considered her an adult was because she could reign in her moods and still do things with a clear head.

That didn't stop it when feelings surged forth to try and overwhelm her. And at that moment, she was feeling incredibly protective of Obi-Wan, a Knight and who had defended her and was learning to live a normal life. He may be a good ten years her senior, but his situation was bringing out what Padme's mother had once described as a mother's protective drive. That protectiveness came out whenever her people were threatened, and if someone she considered family was in danger, she would fight with everything she had.

Those Jedi down there were going to have a piece of her mind about what they'd done.

But that was her mood talking. Padme took another deep breath and reigned her feelings in. Through her talks with Shamde, she had come to realize that Jedi culture was incredibly foreign from what she had grown up with on Naboo. She would treat that culture with respect.

An image of Obi-Wan sitting in a chair looking dirty and lost but pretending everything was under control after a night in the refugee camps flashed across her mind and an eyebrow twitched.

Maybe she should say something.

"Greetings, your Majesty. To what do I owe the honor?" came the amused smile of Obi-Wan himself.

Padme turned, her heavy robes and intricate hair barely fluttering. "Seeing as we both will be testifying, I believe it best for us to stay together for safety," she said, completely omitting the real reason. "If you have already made arrangements, I will see that you are refunded. You will stay with my staff for the duration of our stay for this trial."

Obi-Wan smiled brightly. "Very good, your Majesty, but I think you're calling me here has more to do with who is on the landing platform. Therefore I must decline your request."

A corner of Padme's mouth threatened to creep up into a smile, but she held her face impassive. "That may have initiated the thought, Knight Kenobi, but it is sound reasoning nonetheless. You mention you have dealt with assassins. I have not. Your experience will be a benefit for my security detail and I will provide proper compensation for your services. I'd imagine you will take less than what is appropriate, but it will still help you with starting your business. It is mutually beneficial."

Obi-Wan's grin was utterly amused. "Sound reasoning or not, it still feels like charity. I will ask for help, your Majesty, but I will not ask for charity. I've told you this before."

There was the lightest of thuds as their ship finally docked with the landing platform.

"What I offer is not charity," she replied smoothly, "but opportunity. A few extra credits would no doubt help and you will earn them. Captain Panaka will go over our security measures on our way and you can offer the insights you have gained and start implementing strategies. I assure you, this is a one-time chance for my security to learn from a Jedi how to anticipate threats. You will no doubt be very busy going through scenarios or strategies during our time here. It will be pay well earned."

Obi-Wan still looked oh-so-amused at her attempts to have him join her, but he finally bowed. "As you wish, your Majesty. As I am now one of your citizens, I must listen to what milady commands."

"I do not command this of you, Knight Kenobi. I merely request."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "No, milady, it is a command shaped as a request. But there is no point in fighting the inevitable. I merely chose not to get into a prolonged argument about it."

Padme stepped forward as the light above her cabin door lit green, showing it was time to disembark. Obi-Wan, ever the gentleman offered his arm, which she took. "You are indeed a wise man, Knight Kenobi."

"You think too much of me."

Padme didn't respond. She could not give confidence with words. Real confidence didn't come from others but from believing in yourself. Obi-Wan, who had been essentially dumped into a foreign environment with an entirely different culture than what he lived day to day and had struggled for every gain he had, wouldn't have confidence in himself until his life was well and truly settled.

She had hoped that after almost a year on Naboo, he would have finally settled comfortably into his new life. But he still appeared to struggle and he would not take her assistance.

So she said nothing.

Besides, she was already focusing on the Jedi that were stepping forward to greet them.

"Master Yoda," she greeted, her Queen-voice still flat, but perhaps a bit chillier.

"Queen Amidala," the tiny Jedi replied. "Good it is, to see you again. Yes. But better circumstances, I would have wished for."

"I as well," she nodded. Diplomacy. She was a Queen and she represented her world. She would be polite to this Jedi, no matter her feelings because she did not want to reflect badly of her family and home.

Yoda glanced at Obi-Wan, his face weighed in sadness before the tiny Jedi addressed her again. "Unfortunate, it is, that the trail does not go well."

Padme frowned heavily. "I have not heard. Surely the evidence against Gunray is overwhelming."

"Surely, yes. Surely." Yoda looked down. "But presented the evidence will not be. Crafty, the defense litigators are. Crafty indeed. Thrown out much evidence has been. Either 'illegally obtained' or 'inadmissible' or something else, the defense claims."

Padme was a Queen. With her face painted and her very body weighed down by robes and hair like her position weighed down responsibility, her face would remain impassive and neutral. But inside, she wailed against the injustice of it. There should be no doubt of Nute Gunray's guilt. Yet if things are going as poorly as Yoda implied...

She turned to Obi-Wan. "It would seem our testimony is neither redundant nor unimportant. Instead, we shall be vital to ensuring clarity so that justice may be served."

Obi-Wan said nothing, his face as impassive as hers. He merely nodded.

Yoda continued. "Familiar with the law firm, the Jedi are. While happened in this trial, it has not, known it is that witnesses can disappear if this firm appears."

Padme nodded. "We are aware of this," she replied, not mentioning that she'd only really been aware of the possibility since Obi-Wan had mentioned it. "Captain Panaka and Knight Kenobi will have our security well in hand."

Yoda nodded. "Hmmm, a valuable asset young Obi-Wan is. Very valuable. But assign a Jedi we will, as an extra precaution."

Emotion was swirling in Padme. The tiny master wasn't even addressing Obi-Wan. And it felt like he was undervaluing what Obi-Wan could even do. Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight. But they were assigning someone else to help, completely ignoring Obi-Wan's capability.

"I appreciate your concern," she said, her voice as monotone as ever, "but it is unnecessary. As Knight Kenobi is aware of the Force, he shall be more than adequate and Captain Panaka is ever vigilant, especially since the Trade Federation's turmoil put me in such danger."

Obi-Wan stepped forward and knelt before the tiny Jedi. "Master Yoda."

Yoda turned, his face filled with sadness. "Young Obi-Wan. Missed you, we all have."

"Yes, Master."

"Readily welcome you, we will, if ready you are to return to us."

Padme watched as Obi-Wan straightened his spine. "I am appreciative of that, Master. But I have not truly left. I am, and will always remain, a Jedi. My Padawan does well."

Yoda gave a sorrowful sigh, shaking his head. "Determined you are, to take this path."

"I have never been more certain of the Force's will." Obi-Wan bowed respectfully. "While I cannot speak for Queen Amidala, I can say that I would not mind an extra hand helping with security. Another set of eyes is always beneficial, particularly when we are all focused on ensuring that Gunray is properly tried for his crimes."

Padme stilled, closing her eyes. Despite her best efforts, her feelings had run away with her again. The point of being here was Gunray's conviction, not whatever acknowledgement the Jedi gave Obi-Wan, not the struggles Obi-Wan had had to deal with. Her focus had wandered.

No wonder Obi-Wan was already making a name for himself as a mediator. He could see the heart of any issue and completely address the matter without even appearing to.

"Very well, Knight Kenobi," she said quietly. "I will bow to your wisdom on this matter."

Obi-Wan turned and gave her an amused, if slightly strained smile. "Please, milady. While I live as a Jedi, to the rest of the galaxy I no longer am one. As such, I am no longer a Knight."

Padme internally smiled. "Not so, Knight Kenobi. We of Naboo always address people properly, and even if the title was held for mere hours, you will always be a Knight for my people."

Obi-Wan sighed, standing again and returning to his place behind her.

"Have you any other concerns, Master Yoda?" she turned to the tiny Jedi.

Yoda still looked sadly at Obi-Wan, before turning to her. "Merely wish for your safety, I do." He turned to the Jedi behind him and gestured. A tall human Jedi of many years stepped forward. "Accompany you, Master Dooku will. In good hands, you all are."

Padme ignored the feeling of chaffing at the Jedi giving her a bodyguard, but merely nodded her head.

"May the Force be with you," she said in parting.

"May the Force be with you," Yoda replied, looking down sadly.

"Your Majesty, please."

"No, it's an invasion of privacy!"

"It's necessary for your security!"

"Captain...!"

Dooku watched, reticent, as Kenobi quickly stepped in. "Your Majesty, Captain Panaka is correct, for your protection we must have security cameras everywhere."

"But it's my bedroom! And my bathroom!" the tiny queen hissed, her irate face visible even through the layers of make up.

Kenobi held up a hand to forestall further litany, and Dooku observed the Queen quickly comply. "Your Majesty, can I assume that your objection is that the vast majority of your security staff are male, and you wish to not have such an invasion of your privacy?"

"I don't want anyone-"

"That is impossible, Your Majesty, but I have an appropriate compromise. Captain Panaka, as I recall you do have a female security officer on your staff, is that not correct?"

The dark man was frowning uproariously, but he was able to churn out and growling, "Yes."

"Very well, then she will be the one to observe those specific monitors. How does that sound, Your Majesty?"

Amidala, like her captain, was frowning deeply, her mind turning, before finally saying, "... No men?"

"No men."

And, just like that, Amidala straightened, her face smoothing out to calm serenity, and she said, "I am not happy, but the arrangement is satisfactory for the circumstances."

Dooku raised an eyebrow, still hanging back, curious how Kenobi would get the obviously upset Panaka onto his side. After Amidala left to her precious room to unpack, Kenobi turned to the captain. "Your woman, is she capable?"

"She's new and only partly trained," Panaka said, his voice low as to not attract the queen's attention from the other room. "She does not know what to look for every circumstance."

"Then assign a veteran to her," Kenobi said simply. "Just make certain he's not by those monitors when she decides to inspect the compromise to be upheld."

Panaka visibly relaxed with relief and disappeared down a hall to speak to his subordinates.

... In the span of less than five minutes young Kenobi had managed to take two excessively willful people and bring them to a middle ground; not only that, he kept the queen's security up to par without stepping on anyone's toes. That was skill. To be expected of Qui-Gon's last apprentice, of course, but it was so... surprising. Dooku quite literally did not know what to make of the former Jedi.

For the last year, since learning of Qui-Gon's death, Dooku had done everything in his power to catch up on his former apprentice's life. They had lost touch, especially in the last two decades, and Dooku was remiss. It was perhaps too little, too late, but he wanted to learn as much as he could about his former apprentice, to gain an insight to what his last moments were. He had read though the reports of all Qui-Gon's apprentices, particularly young Kenobi. The child was green as an Alderaan cucumber, but there was talent there, and as he read the reports, witnessed Kenobi grow over more than a dozen years tutelage, he had seen the bright intelligence, powerful will, and caution that Qui-Gon had never been able to master. Moreover, he had seen how Qui-Gon had changed over those dozen years, how a man determined to never risk his heart come to place complete trust in his Padawan. That was a feat Dooku had been certain no one could accomplish. These were all ringing endorsements to young Kenobi's character.

And yet he had left the Order.

Over a youngling.

Dooku was not blind; he saw the Council: Yoda's grandiose disappointment, Mace's barely concealed contempt, the complete puzzlement of Poof and others. The Council, no less. These were scathing defamation of his character. The conundrum had left Dooku uncertain what to expect, but whatever he had anticipated, it had not been this.

The Kenobi he was watching, had been watching ever since the disembarking, was quiet; unassuming. He did not assert himself until it was necessary, was succinct and cultured in his choice of words, unfailingly polite. And yet under that ability to blend in was a spine; he stood up to Yoda while still showing him respect and even deference to some degree. Would that other Knights could stand up to the Council the way that boy did.

Ah, but he was not a Knight, and the circle came back to the starting point. Dooku was not one for speaking to a person until he had the full measure of the man, but this appeared to be one of the numerous exceptions to the rule. Kenobi was a man who could only be assessed through interaction.

He stepped forward.

"You have some skill in negotiation," he said simply, referring to the security problem that had so recently been quelled.

Kenobi looked up, looking slightly startled at being addressed (or perhaps a little weary) before covering very quickly. "Given that my current profession is in negotiation, one would hope that I had the skill."

"And yet you still call yourself a Jedi," Dooku offered, getting right to the point.

Kenobi sighed, running a hand through his red hair before rubbing his forehead. He sat on one of the sofas in Padme's rooms and offered the other to Dooku; the Jedi taking it slowly, his eyes never leaving Kenobi.

"I suppose we should get this out of the way right now," the boy said. "I can only imagine what rumors the Temple has been accumulating, but since we will be working together on security, you need to know that I can be trusted; and so I will tell you this once: I am a Jedi. Whatever the Council has decided, I still follow the Code. I wake up every morning at dawn to practice kata, I meditate every evening with my Padawan after his lessons, I adhere to the precepts and follow the will of the Force when it reveals itself to me. 'Jedi' may no longer be my profession, but it is still my life, and so you have nothing to fear from me."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Master Yoda presented me an ultimatum," Kenobi said, his face closed off as he leaned back and crossed his arms; body language to defense. Clearly the topic was still a sore spot. Dooku did not need to be told, however. Kenobi was right on that score, the Temple was great for rumormongering. He was about to press the point when the Queen arrived from her sleep chamber, clearly having heard the conversation and deciding it was time to step in.

"I do not feel it is necessary to interrogate a fellow Knight," she said in calm but decidedly cross tones. "He has my implicit trust and confidence, as does the rest of my staff. If you wish to doubt his character you must first doubt mine, and so if you have questions you may ask them to me."

"Your Majesty," Kenobi said, sounding put out, "This is hardly nece-"

"You are currently employed as my security staff," Amidala said, utterly formal but fiercely defensive, "If Master Dooku has questions about my staff it would be much easier to ask me first before interviewing anyone; and I am more than happy to give him my opinion."

Dooku learned very quickly that he would get very little from Kenobi while Amidala was on the warpath.

The Convocation Chamber in the Senate building was, arguably, the most famous room in the entire galaxy. Every elementary school in the galaxy had a picture of it, for thousands of years it was the seat of democracy; it had become the symbol for equality, fair chances, and equal opportunity. It was, perhaps because of that symbolism, why the courtrooms in the Judiciary building mimicked the Convocation Chamber's design.

The courtroom holding Nute Gunray's trail was ovular in shape, seating surrounding the proceedings so that all possible views could be beheld. Unlike the Senate that had to house thousands of delegates, this room only held just over a hundred. The cameras broadcast the trial, but ultimately it was a closed affair. Dooku approved, partly through pragmatism: the room would be a fiasco if commoners were allowed in, and the risk to security was too great if just anyone could come in to observe. Dooku did not want even the reporters there, but Palpatine's new policies called for transparency in all proceedings, and several channels were created to broadcast things such as courtroom proceedings. Privately, however, he liked the closed courtroom because he did not want anyone else there. Gunray did not need an audience, and the more he was denied the more Dooku took satisfaction that the man responsible for his Padawan's death was uncomfortable.

When he had learned of Qui-Gon's death, he had become obsessed with the events leading up to it. Kenobi was the key to it; only he was there in those last moments, and Dooku wanted every possible opportunity to milk their time together to glean what he could. Had Qui-Gon thought of Dooku in his last moments? Unlikely, of course, but Dooku's ego kept finessing the idea. Had his former Padawan suffered? How had the Sith, if the reports were true, bested him?

As security, Dooku escorted Kenobi and Amidala from their temporary apartments to the courtroom, where they were safely ensconced in witness waiting rooms. After a thorough inspection, the Jedi master had deemed everything safe, and had quietly dismissed himself to the courtroom to watch the trial. Standing quietly on the outermost circumference, he could see Masters Yoda and Windu also bearing witness to the trial, Yoda placid as ever but Mace watched with a hard eye, clearly determined to see Gunray brought to justice. Or, if Dooku were honest (and Mace would not be), the Council leader wanted to get the Nemoidian alone and pump information about the Sith. High rolling members of the Trade Federation were there, of course, whispering back and forth conspiratorially. The defense team was massive, while the prosecution had only a half dozen members - none of them the Chief Prosecutor.

The trial overall was frightfully one-sided. Yoda had not been exaggerating when he informed Kenobi and Amidala about the volume of information that had been thrown out through technicalities and other sophistries. The defense litigators were, from one point of view, very, very good. From another, however, what they were carrying out was anything but justice. Dooku watched very carefully. Justice would be very important; it had to be, for what else were the Jedi good for? So much had been lost over the years, something good had to come out of this trial. Gunray had to be brought to bear for his fate in killing Qui-Gon; if he didn't there was no way Dooku, no way the Jedi, could stand for it.

So he watched.

And he waited.

It would be several days before Kenobi was actually brought to the stand. He would use his time well. Amidala was currently on the stand, the prosecution asking her about her brief conversation with Gunray before the invasion began. Amidala was surprisingly good, given her age; she either had a natural gift of had been trained very well. The proof would come when the defense cross examined her, but for now things were going well, and Dooku allowed himself to leave the trial. Interested though he was, he could watch the broadcasts of what he missed later. His more pressing business was with Kenobi.

The former Jedi was in meditation, as seemed to be his wont. Brows knitted together and frown pulling at his face, it was clear that the meditation was not going well. Dooku gave thought on giving the man time and space, it was polite after all, but the decision was forestalled when the redhead opened his eyes, blinking rapidly.

"... Master Dooku," he said slowly, his troubled face immediately smoothing out to a more guarded one. "I hardly suppose it is my turn yet."

"Quite the contrary," the Jedi said, sitting down across from Kenobi, "Amidala seems determined to keep them there for the rest of the trial, outlining Gunray's many sins in polite decorum. The defense cross-examination will prove to be most interesting."

"I see," Kenobi said softly, his gaze elsewhere. His weary exterior broke slightly, the frown again returning to his face, making him look thoughtful.

Dooku thought it best to press. "Is there something you feel the need to talk about?" Hopefully not some plebian worry over his Padawan, Dooku did not want to offer his ear for something trivial or inconsequential.

Blue eyes darted up to look at Dooku then back down, a hand coming up to rub his chin. "Have you been on Coruscant long?"

Dooku raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I remember how often I was away as a Padawan with my master," he said, his voice softer, his face reminiscent for a moment. Dooku felt... something for the boy. "Master Yoda gave you high praise when he assigned you to us. I can only guess that you had to be pulled from a mission in order to take this one."

The Jedi master frowned, curious to see where this would lead. "I have been on Coruscant for the last two years. Active work is for the younger generation, now; my role these days is to pass on my expertise to those gifted enough to enter my care."

Kenobi nodded, still frowning. "Tell me, how has Coruscant felt?"

" 'Felt?' "

"In the Force. Has it changed?"

Now it was Dooku's turn to frown. This was a very different direction than any he had anticipated, and he was intrigued. "Has it changed for you?"

"No. Well, yes, but not in the Force," Kenobi said, again rubbing his face. "Every time I meditate..."

Dooku offered a platitude, curious how the boy would take it. "Emotion can often affect a meditation. One can presume that this is a stressful time for you."

"I had thought so at first, but..." He moved from his chin to his forehead, rubbing it and running his fingers through his hair. "I have a bad feeling. I know I should focus on the here and now, the Living Force is so much more important than the Unifying and yet even now I cannot stop feeling..."

Dooku frowned again, questioning Kenobi's wisdom in making such a confession to him. He remembered Kenobi's proclamation that he was still a Jedi, whatever the Council thought or did, and he still had profound respect for the Order, that much was obvious from his interactions with the Council and the claims he had made that he was still practicing his craft. Insight struck as he realized that Kenobi still felt like a Padawan, his Knighting had never sunk in, and he was seeking council on something he did not understand; something his master could no longer offer an ear to. Stars above, how desperate was he for help that he turned to an unknown Jedi for advice? It stirred something in Dooku, something that Qui-Gon had only been able to ignite. Dooku quickly schooled himself to the feeling, however. People close to him had the terrible habit of betraying him. Qui-Gon was perhaps the only exception, and now he was dead. Dooku would not let himself be close to Kenobi.

... But he would help the boy. He had decided that much.

And so he asked the obvious: "What ever made you think the Living Force is so much more potent than the Unifying?"

Kenobi looked up and his eyes were haunted, remembering something in the distance. "The death of my master," he answered in flat tones. "I was so worried about the bad feelings I was having before, I could not see what was right in front of me. I cannot let that happen to me again, but I keep..." He shut down again, looking at Dooku as if realizing whom he was speaking to, and he straightened and became much more formal. "At any rate," he said politely, "I've taken up enough of your time; I'm certain you need to man the courtroom and make sure of her Majesty's safety. I do not wish to detain you further, and I'm sorry to bother you with unimportant matters."

Was that... humility? Honest humility? It still existed in the galaxy?

Dooku stood to take his leave as Kenobi wished. But he couldn't quite stop himself from offering some parting words: "I can see why Qui-Gon thought you were a treasure."

Author's Notes: And now we introduce Dooku.

While we certainly never intended it, Dooku makes quite a niche for himself in this world; you can already see it a little in this chapter. It's a fascinating time of his life: he's still a Jedi and adheres to the Code, but he's jaded and desperate for change, making his meeting with the (Jedi-perceived) unorthodox Obi-Wan - his grandPadawan - and, well, you'll see. We've grown to really like his character in this fic. We've no idea how this will or won't change his destiny, but it was fun to play with him.

Chapter took forever, once again no inspiration, but we won't bore you.

Once again we're trying very hard not to make the Jedi the bad guys. They see things differently and Obi-Wan was given a choice. The Jedi still want Obi-Wan back in their Order and are sad to see him go, there's no malice, but Padme has a hard time seeing that. It's something you see from time to time in TV shows, when a parent or guardian makes the difficult decision to let a loved one stumble and fall so that they can learn. That's what Yoda sees this as. He can't interfere because it's not his place. He's let go, like a Jedi is supposed to. Not that Padme can understand that. ;)

And Obi-Wan, sensitive to the Unifying Force is finally back on Coruscant after a year and is already feeling a difference. Note that both Dooku and Qui-Gon are more sensitive to the Living Force. But were Qui-Gon seems to go Living Force or Bust, we imagine Dooku to have a more moderate view. He'll use the Unifying Force when necessary, but has a more easy time with the Living Force. So to see Obi-Wan, who's strength is the Unifying, putting down his own strength, prompts the question of why? And thus, Dooku gets a hint at what Qui-Gon's death is like.

But yeah. Things are going to be interesting with Dooku in the mix, ne? ^_^

Next chapter: A taxi.