"Master!" Anakin was racing down the path before Traesa could stop him. Under normal circumstances, Ben would've reprimanded him for his impatience, but he had just lived through Geonosis – again – and there was a certain level of fear left in Anakin's eyes that told him it wasn't the time. He caught his apprentice's hug and held him.
"I'm alright," he told the boy, patting his hair. Anakin gripped him tight. "I'm alright."
They walked back to Alara's home together to find that Traesa had, in fact, saved food for them. They ate in exhausted silence, and fell asleep shortly thereafter, with Ben and Anakin cramped up against each other on the couch.
In the morning before the sun rose, Ben extracted himself from Anakin's sprawling limbs and joined Alara for a cup of tea in the kitchen.
"The Council will want to talk with you," he said quietly, as to not disturb the pre-dawn stillness.
"Yes, I know." She sipped at her drink, and looked out the doorway to Traesa's bedroom door across their apartment. "I'll send them my report. If they want to drag me back to Coruscant, they'll have to do it properly. We've gone far enough off-book already, I think." She glanced at him, eyes coy. "Unlike some people, I remain in their good graces. Have you earned any more censure since I left?"
He side-eyed her, but smiled despite himself. "No, just an apprentice."
"Hmm." Alara smiled, and glanced into the living room where Anakin was lying starfished across the couch, shirt hiked up to his armpits, hair a puff of dark blond. "He seems like a good boy."
"When it's convenient for him."
Alara laughed at that.
"I only hope he doesn't get wrapped up in this."
"Well," Alara's expression faded into a more somber tone as she watched the boy sleep, "that may be up to the Senate. You never told me what intelligence you were after, but after what I saw…" she looked up at Ben, a post-battle haze in her eyes that he knew too well. "It's not light stuff, Ben."
"No. Which is why I have to get back quickly." He set down his tea. "With luck, Anakin will sleep all the way back home. Thank you again, Alara. I really can't tell you how much it means to me - to me and everyone who walked away from that."
With difficulty, Alara smiled. The number of lives lost weighed on them all. "It was the least we could do. Look after them all, Master Kenobi, and as always, may the Force be with you." They shook hands, and Ben bowed. With another brief goodbye, Ben herded his half-sleeping apprentice onto a ship and set a course for Coruscant.
Halfway through their trek, Anakin woke up and joined Ben in the cockpit. He sat in the co-pilot's seat and put his feet up on the dash, arms crossed across his chest to keep him warm in the cold of hyperspace. He was uncharacteristically silent for a while, before he said,
"What happened to your neck?"
"Hmm?" Ben had been absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Your neck," Anakin drew a short line on his own neck to demonstrate. Ben reached up and felt the old sai cha scar that had creeped out above his tunic, and the newer, shorter gash that intersected it.
"I must've gotten it yesterday," Ben said. He felt that it was not bleeding, so he folded his hands once more as if nothing had happened. Anakin continued to stare at him.
"It was bad, wasn't it?"
Ben looked at the boy, overcome by the softness of his cheeks, the innocence in his face. He tried to remind himself of the weighty realities he'd faced when he was a young apprentice. Qui-Gon had trusted him with that.
"Yes, it was," he said at length.
"Lots of people died, didn't they?"
Ben took in a breath, and let it out again slowly, determined to not let Anakin see how much it hurt him. "Yes, I'm afraid they did."
Anakin nodded like he'd expected it. "I felt it," he said, tucking his chin. This surprised Ben, and he found himself marvelling not for the first time at how Anakin's sensitivity to the Force surpassed even the wisest of Jedi - and at age eleven, no less.
Ben thought suddenly of Feemor, of the way the Sith had infiltrated his solidarity and coerced him to violence through the power of suggestion alone. Was that what it had been like for Anakin, during the war? Had Palpatine intruded on his thoughts like he had with Feemor? Had he lied about Padme, about Anakin's children, about Obi-Wan himself? Had he corrupted the Force that Anakin breathed, the Force he felt more deeply than any Jedi?
Ben felt very small, and could only think that he should've seen it all happening a lifetime ago.
"The Force gives us light to see in the darkness, Anakin," Ben chose his words carefully. "But the Force is still present, even in the darkness. The people who died are with the Force now, though we cannot see them anymore."
Anakin was frowning deeply, and Ben realized he'd been cryptic. He wasn't sure Anakin had ever had to deal with the concept of death before. He opened his mouth to explain again, but then the boy said, "But what if all the light goes out?"
Ben shifted his reply. "Well, then we must cling to the Force more fiercely than ever."
"But if the Force is light, how can the Force be there when there is no light?" Anakin wanted to know.
Ben found himself thinking of Tatooine. Of hiding, of listening to the news and keeping a tally of the Jedi that Vader had hunted down. He found himself thinking of Luke. Luke had looked at him like this, once, eyes begging for answers, but Owen hadn't let Ben come close enough to speak. Obi-Wan had already ruined one Skywalker, Owen reasoned, he shouldn't have the chance at another.
Anakin stared up at him with wide blue eyes.
"We only ever see light clearly when it is surrounded by darkness." Ben's voice was soft, but cut through the still air like a spell. "Even in darkness there is always hope, and within hope, the Force, and within the Force, there is light. We hold on to that light, no matter how small it may appear to us. Even if it is invisible," he remembered what it had been like to die, "we cling to it."
"Oh." Anakin said quietly. Ben wasn't sure if the boy had understood or was pretending to understand. They sat together in the silence of the stars. After a while, Anakin ventured,
"Master?"
"Yes, Anakin?"
"I'm glad you made it out alive. And Master Qui-Gon. And Aola."
Ben's heart ached for all those that had not. But presented with the light, he gave the boy a smile. "As am I, padawan."
By the time they reached Coruscant's atmosphere, the clock had already begun ticking. The Jedi Order was hardly the Republic's only intelligence-gathering agency, and it would be mere hours - if that - before the entire galaxy knew of the disaster on Geonosis. The entire Jedi Council knew now, and not even Mace Windu would be able to put off his reports. If the Order wanted to escape accusations of a cover-up, they would have to notify the SBI presently, especially with Cody in critical condition. After that, if by some chance the Chancellor hadn't already learned through other channels, the SBI would alert the Chancellor, and the Chancellor would decide whether or not to tell the Senate.
Mace Windu knew Finis Valorum, and he knew that it would take less than a day for him to make the announcement. The entire Republic had been living in fear of the Federation's droids for half a decade. Dozens of worlds had poured trillions upon trillions of credits into the hunt. Many of the benefactors were the Chancellor's political allies. Finis wouldn't keep the intelligence to himself.
And then, all eyes would be on the Jedi Order. Whatever happened following Geonosis would be tied to them.
"Finis will want to speak with you." The Master of the Order watched through the Council room windows as the Herdessan cruiser pulled alongside the temple. Vokara Che and her team were already waiting at the docks.
"Avoidable, Geonosis was not," Yoda said, stoic and calm. "Worse it could have been."
"Yes, I know." Mace did not understand everything Ben had told him about the past, but the body count had been plain. "The Chancellor may disagree. The Jedi are not representatives of Coruscant alone; they are the Republic."
Far below, they could see the Herdessans escorting Cody and Aola into the hands of the Jedi Healers. Whereas Cody was on a stretcher, Aola was able to walk on her own, limping slightly from her injured thigh.
"Wish to speak with Padawan Tarkona, he will," Yoda said.
Aola was the primary agent on the mission mandate. For right or wrong, she and her actions would be under intense scrutiny from all levels of leadership. Mace's brow softened in pity. "Perhaps she was not ready," he mused aloud.
Yoda tapped his cane in disagreement. "Ready, she was. Ready she is. But…" the ancient Jedi hesitated. "Perhaps not meant for one Jedi these trials were. Stand by her, we must."
"We will take care of our own."
Aola stayed by Cody's stretcher from the ship into the Temple. Yoda hummed, ears tipping slightly downward.
"A trial, Geonosis was," he said. "More trials yet to come young Tarkona has."
They'd taken Cody to the Jedi Halls of Healing. The Jedi rarely had guests in the Halls, and Vokara was sure the SBI would contact her to transfer Cody to a outside hospital, but for now, it was the least they could do.
"How long will he have to be in there?" asked a voice. Vokara turned to see Aola Tarkona standing nearby. The watery lights of the bacta tank swam across her face in waves uneasy as her footing. Purple bags clung to the flesh under her eyes, suspended by the sheer willpower in her gaze that now turned to Vokara for answers.
"Legs usually take longer than arms," Vokara told her plainly, watching her face. "And he's not Force sensitive, so… perhaps another twelve hours?" Aola stared at Cody's submerged body with an expression of guilt far too too deep for one so young. "You should rest, padawan," Vokara said softly.
"I have to finish my report for the Council," she said. Vokara couldn't fault her for it. She'd heard rumors of what had happened on Geonosis, she'd seen the Herdessan ship, half-staffed and scorched by cannonfire. She'd had to sign death certificates for nearly the entire Gold Squadron - including one for Garen Muln, a close friend of Aola and Aola's lineage. It broke Vokara's heart, but she knew their fight wasn't over yet, so she kept her mouth pressed thin and busied herself with saving what was left of Cody's leg.
"Lola?" a surprised voice said from behind, and both Twi'lek women turned.
"Master," the word wasn't out of the padawan's mouth before she was running to him. Feemor caught her in both arms and held her as if she'd float away. Vokara lowered her gaze, checked Cody's vitals, and stepped away to give the duo privacy.
Jedi weren't inclined to affection or strong emotions, and even Aola had only ever experienced occasional gestures from her kind, soft mentor. But now, Feemor clung to her like she were the last thing in his world, and all she could do in reply was bury herself beneath his chin and cry like an infant. At length, she gathered herself and pulled away, noticing for the first time that he was in white hospital robes.
"Why are you here?" She wiped her nose and looked him up and down. He'd been crying, too, and his eyes were puffy and red. Something about it made her think it wasn't just from worry. She frowned at him and asked, "What happened?"
The whole story toppled out like the tears they'd already shared. He told her everything. Palpatine's words, Obi-Wan going after him, his attack. How he'd very nearly gone dark because of his fear, how he'd been ready to steal a ship and fly to Geonosis himself because of his worry for her. She'd listened in disbelief and horror, and when he saw it, he seemed to shrink.
"Trials are supposed to be for padawans, not masters," he said, small and sheepish. "But… I'm afraid I didn't pass. I'm so sorry, Aola." Aola's expression softened, but she couldn't look him in the eye.
"I'm not sure I passed, either," she admitted. She couldn't help but look back at Cody, whose leg was strung up in wires and tubes, bacta pumping to and fro in a bid to ameliorate catastrophe.
Feemor drew her back into his arms. He didn't know what to say to comfort her, so only said, "You need rest, lass." With paternal concern, his eyes scanned the scratches on her face and arms, the bloodied bandage on her leg that showed below the edges of her robe. "Come on."
He led her back to her hospital bed and held her hand until she fell asleep.
Qui-Gon was alive. Aola was alive. Dooku and Asajj were alive. Cody was alive, if maimed. For all of the miracles of the day, Obi-Wan couldn't ignore the pit of loss in his chest. His ears seemed to ring, his focus seemed to stall, his very heart seemed to slow for the rest of the day.
Time meant nothing until around four in the afternoon, when his commlink began to chirp. He waited a moment before answering it.
"Kenobi," his voice was hoarse.
A droid answered. "Master Kenobi, the Supreme Chancellor would like to speak with you."
Obi-Wan stiffened his jaw and let his eyes fall shut. "Of course."
Night fell over Coruscant, but at the Jedi Temple it felt like a dream, a nightmare pressing into the waking day. By sunset, the Chancellor knew about Geonosis. By daybreak, every Herdessan and every Jedi involved in the operation had been summoned for questioning, and Master Yoda himself had been asked - ordered - to testify before the Senate. The gears of political process were moving at an unbelievable pace, galvanized by the sudden threat of war.
The Senate had summoned Aola and Cody to appear for questioning as well, but neither of them would be forced to appear until Vokara released them from the hospital. For this reason, the healer made excuses for both to stay, to give them time to regroup before they stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
"Agent Cody's just out of bacta, so don't push him too hard," Vokara told Obi-Wan when the knight came to visit.
"I wasn't planning on it," he said, not looking at her. "Thank you, Master Che."
She opened his mouth to say something about the mission, to apologize for Garen's death. But then she saw his face, the red eyes, the sunken cheeks. Nothing she said would heal him, so she shut her mouth and let him go.
The Halls of Healing were a busy place, but Vokara had found a secluded back corner to keep Aola and Cody away from the rest. Obi-Wan wandered down the quiet hall, peeking in doors in an unsuccessful bid to locate Cody's room.
"Obi-Wan," the knight turned to see Feemor Gard approaching him, dressed in white robes.
"Master Gard," although Obi-Wan was relieved to see Feemor recovered, he couldn't make himself smile.
Feemor moved as if to embrace the younger man, but stopped short when he saw Obi-Wan's expression. "I… I never had the chance to apologize for what happened," he said. Obi-Wan's heart was too heavy to handle the guilt evident in Feemor's face.
"There's nothing to apologize for," he said, shaking his head. "You weren't yourself."
"But I did do it," Feemor insisted seriously. A darkened look came over his face. "Even if I did have help." He met eyes with Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan stared back, a sinking feeling in his gut. Did Feemor… did he know?
"Ben told me," Feemor said. Obi-Wan was nonplussed.
"Told you? About…" The knight glanced around to make sure they were alone. "He told you about Palpatine?"
"Yes. He's shaken about what happened - with me, with Geonosis… I don't think Ben understood what Palpatine was capable of."
Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. "He should know," he found himself saying with no small amount of bitterness, "he lived through it. He died because of it." Feemor's eyebrows shot up, and Obi-Wan realized he'd taken it a bit far. He pursed his lips. "I'm sorry. I'm glad you know - I wanted to tell you myself. I should have told you sooner."
"I'm not sure if it would've mattered," Feemor admitted, and rubbed the worried creases of his forehead. It was often hard to tell how much grey was mixed in with Feemor's blond, but Obi-Wan thought it looked considerably more silver than it had weeks ago. "After this is all over, I think I should step away a while. From the field, I mean."
Obi-Wan couldn't blame him. "How is Aola?" he asked, and Feemor shrugged. They began walking together down the hallway.
"Exhausted. The Council hasn't addressed her trials yet, because of the mess they've stirred up. They haven't even held normal sessions, from what I hear, because they're all at the Senate. Whole rosters have been suspended until they're able to convene again."
Obi-Wan knew this, but hearing it was still shocking. "And Cody?" he pressed on.
"Missing a leg, and handling it surprisingly well. Some of that may be medications, though - do you know," a manic kind of amusement crept into his tone, "he called Aola and myself by our first names?"
Perhaps it was the gravity of the past day that made such a triviality so striking. "Cody?" Obi-Wan said, and if he weren't so deep in grief he would've smiled. "Our Cody?"
Feemor nodded, and found a small smile that was enough for both of them. "We'll have to see if he does the same with you. They're just in here."
They were not exactly as Obi-Wan had expected them.
"Ben," he said, surprised. "I didn't know you were here, too."
Ben Kenobi, Cody, and Aola all turned to look at the newcomers. "He's come to tell me what intel I've given my leg for," Cody mumbled from the bed, obviously recovering from the aftereffects of bacta. "You come to tell me something else?"
Obi-Wan made himself ignore Ben and looked instead to Aola and Cody. He went to stand at the foot of Cody's bed, eyes inexorably drawn to the absence where a leg should have been. Aola was perched on the edge of the mattress by his head, and Cody seemed surprisingly comfortable with it. "I came to see that you were both alive," Obi-Wan said somberly.
Cody did not seem bothered. He shrugged. "So far." His flippancy garnered a smile from Aola, which put Obi-Wan more at ease, if only by one iota. The corners of his mouth eased into the beginnings of a smile. Then, Ben spoke, and ruined it.
"Master Che is confident he'll make a full recovery."
Obi-Wan didn't mean to glare when he looked over at his older self, but his irritation was suddenly a palpable mass.
"So the cryptographers are finished with it, then?" Feemor turned to Ben, hoping to cut the tension.
"Yes," Ben replied, happy for the diversion. "I didn't get a personal look at it, but I gather it's comprehensively incriminating. The Council has forwarded it onto the Chancellor without redactions."
"Did the files include the identities of the Sith?" Obi-Wan asked. Ben looked at him.
"Not as such," he said, eyeing the younger man. "Master Windu said it's much the same as the Naboo tapes."
Obi-Wan bit his lip and looked away, trying to hide his disappointment.
"Will it be enough to prosecute them? To prove the droids are theirs?" Aola asked.
"Prosecute?" Ben said. "A mild way of putting it. It's enough to dig the Trade Federation even deeper into their grave, certainly, and tie Geonosis to their whole operation. As for prosecution, however… it may be impossible. Geonosis is not part of the Republic, and at least under Poggle's rule, doesn't recognize intergalactic law. There's no court to judge a prosecution."
"What else can we do?" Aola asked. Feemor and Ben exchanged glances. If she'd been less tired, Aola would've understood for herself.
"War," Obi-Wan said for the room. "Or at least, the beginnings of it." This time when he glared at Ben, he meant to. Ben did not return the look, only clenched his jaw and his hands together.
"Oh," Aola's voice sounded as small as she felt.
Several heartbeats passed in silence, before a knock sounded on the doorframe. "I hate to interrupt," Vokara Che appeared, a datpad propped up against her hip. "But I need to borrow the good agent for a round of x-rays," She smiled at Cody, who only nodded. "Also, Padawan Tarkona," she looked to Aola, apology written all over her face. "I'm very sorry, but even with your leg, I can't give them a valid reason to keep you. Master Windu is waiting with a detachment from the SBI to debrief you."
Aola stood and squared her shoulders, trying to disguise how her exhaustion made her sway on her feat. "Very well," she said stoically. Feemor saw through it.
"I'll escort you," he said softly, and offered his arm. Aola went out with him, trying not to lean on him too heavily for support.
"Thank you, Master Che," Aola said as she passed.
"Force be with you, padawan."
A young medical apprentice approached the room, wheeling large x-ray machine ahead of him.
"Masters Kenobi, you're both in the way. I'll have to ask you to leave," Vokara said, maneuvering the machine through the door to sit above the stump of Cody's leg.
"Of course, Vokara," Ben said, and put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, ignoring how the younger man flinched. "We'll see ourselves out."
They squeezed out of the room and walked down the hallway together. Ben waited until they were out of earshot before before speaking.
"I realize you're mad with me," he said, not looking at Obi-Wan's face. "And I realize I probably deserve it."
"You told Feemor about him," Obi-Wan cut in. Ben stopped walking and turned to face his younger self. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"Yes."
Vestiges of bitterness played over Obi-Wan's face. He'd accepted Ben's reasons for not telling him, but the chasm where their trust had once been continued to erode.
"Why didn't you stop me?" Obi-Wan asked suddenly.
Ben was perplexed. "What?"
"Why didn't you stop me?" Obi-Wan repeated, more firmly. "When I went to the Council, when I suggested this whole… this whole mess. You knew it could go wrong, you knew it would go wrong, yet you let me do it anyway. Why?"
Ben didn't know what to say. "You blame me for this?"
The younger man looked suddenly at the floor, trying to keep his breath from hitching on the lump in his throat. How could he blame Ben? Mace had warned him. Feemor had warned him. But Ben hadn't. "I didn't know who was behind Geonosis, I didn't realize… I didn't realize how big it was," he spoke quietly, sounding lost. "If I hadn't rushed in, if I hadn't suggested the plan, the squadron, the reconnaissance…" Obi-Wan seemed to choke. "If I hadn't been so brash… Garen might still be alive right now."
Ben's response died on his tongue. He'd heard of Muln's demise, but he'd thought – hoped – that Obi-Wan' hadn't.
"Why didn't you stop me?" the knight begged. Ben's eyes fell closed.
"I didn't know that Garen would be there," he said softly. And though it was a balm to Obi-Wan's pain, the wound remained. "I didn't know how to get involved," Ben confessed. "I was too absorbed with Anakin, with my own fear. I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan." Despite his scar and his knighthood, Obi-Wan was in many ways still a boy, and the fact played out on his face in expressions of hurt and uncertainty. Ben's own face took up the same uncertainty and mixed it with guilt.
"Given the opportunity, I would have done the same thing as you." Ben hesitated. "Or at least, I should have done the same thing," he amended. "You did what I wasn't strong enough to do."
"If I had known how it would happen, I wouldn't have," Obi-Wan insisted. Ben looked at the floor.
"Then perhaps we're both cowards."
Obi-Wan let his chin fall to his chest, eyes downcast. Ben only realized he was crying when he sniffed and wiped angrily at his eyes.
"Will this all be worth it?" Obi-Wan asked angrily.
Ben didn't want to answer. "I hope so," he said.
Obi-Wan looked back up once he'd gained control. Eyes pink, he looked down the hall as medical apprentices scurried to and fro in the never-ending demands of their work. The banality of their movements was comforting, and Obi-Wan would've happily stayed there on the wall watching nothing at all, but it could not last.
"The Chancellor has called a war council," Obi-Wan announced. "I'm to report after the hearing this afternoon." Ben turned to stare at him in surprise, but it took several moments before Obi-Wan could make himself meet the master's gaze. "Is there anything I should know? Anything I should or shouldn't do?"
A war council? Ben's mind was reeling. There hadn't been time for a council, last time. They had the Grand Army of the Galactic Republic; they fought their way out, and the war was declared. The idea of negotiating war, the idea of averting war was a new one. Ben wasn't sure what to do with it.
Obi-Wan interpreted his silence as censorship. "Would you tell me, even if there were?"
"I did not live through anything like this," Ben admitted. "I don't know what's going to happen. I can't tell you what you should do."
"But you could tell me something, anything," Obi-Wan begged him. "I can't make a mis-step like that again. Who will it be next time? Qui-Gon? Aola, You?"
"You can't live your life in that kind of fear, Obi-Wan," Ben warned.
"Isn't that what you do?" Obi-Wan snapped back. "Is it not what you've done since the day you stepped foot in our galaxy? Fear keeps us alive, you most of all," he recited, remembering Yan Dooku's wisdom.
"Fear can kill us, too," Ben shot back. "You're walking a very dangerous line."
"And what else can I do?" The knight put out his hands in desperation. "Tell me what to do, where to go. Tell me how to keep more people from dying, and I'll do it."
He sounded like Anakin, and it set Ben's nerves on edge. "Listen to the Force, padawan, let it guide you above your fear."
"Listen? I am," Obi-Wan said helplessly, gesturing to Ben with a shrug. "But the Force gave me you, and you prefer silence."
"I am not the Force," Ben said.
"Do you listen to it?"
"Yes."
"And what does it say?"
Ben opened his mouth to say something, and Obi-Wan waited on him. The words never came. Obi-Wan shook his head. "I need to meditate," he said, disappointed. He left Ben standing by himself in the empty hall.
"Collect reconnaissance on many Outer Rim worlds, the Jedi Order does. Know this, the Senate does," Master Yoda was saying. His voice, projected by microphones, echoed around the vast chamber hall. He looked up and down at the pods that lined the vaulted walls. It was a packed house that day. "Remarkable this mission was not. Remarkable only for what came after."
There was a long queue of Senators waiting their turn to ask Yoda their questions, small yellow indicator lights glittering on the microphones of dozens of pods. The next to have their turn was Senator Lo-El of Goroth - a Republic world so close to Geonosis the trip barely merited a hyperspace jump.
"If the Jedi believed that the Geonosians were manufacturing a droid army – the same droids that we have been fighting and fearing for five years since their discovery on Alaris Prime – why was there no contingency plan in place? Reports are circulating that the Herdessan Navy was called in to cover a large portion of the extraction efforts. Was the Order aware that such force would be necessary to recover their intelligence?"
The Jedi were not in the habit of admitting failure to a large audience, but Yoda leaned forward and said, "No, senator. Understand the scope and size of the Geonosian production we did not. Prepared we were not. Paid the price, we have."
There was murmuring; some of it sympathetic, others outraged that the Jedi could be so naive. Some Senators attempted to shout out their questions across the room, interrupting the queue, driving Mas Amedda to pound his staff on the ground and call for order.
It was in this lull of disorientation that a tall, cloaked figure ducked into the booth of Serenno. The planet was unusual for its status as a Republic world in the Outer Rim, and had remained silent throughout the hearing. Nevertheless, the young Count and his mother both leaned forward to watch the Jedi Grandmaster defend the Order's recent actions on Geonosis, which had escalated tensions in the Outer Rim overnight.
Only the clone advisor, Echo, saw the newcomer. He inclined his head respectfully.
"Master Jedi," he said, loudly enough for the booth. Aden turned in his seat.
"Uncle," the Count said, surprised, "I didn't expect to see you today."
Yan Dooku stepped past the advisors and guards and into the sequestered front half of the booth where the Count sat. "The Jedi Order is my business," he told his nephew. "I can already tell you what their internal report will say. I want to hear what they're telling the rest of the Galaxy."
"I was led to believe you were on Geonosis, uncle," Aden said, carrying a certain shrewdness in his voice that he'd learned from his mother. "I expected you to be detained for debriefing."
"Not as such," Yan replied. Aden arched an eyebrow high in curiosity, but at that moment, the Senator from Denon took the floor to question Master Yoda. Aden turned around to watch the speaker. Yan took a seat next to Constanza, who watched him from the corner of her eye.
"Was it as bad as they all say?" she asked him, quiet enough that Aden might not hear. Dooku and Constanza both looked straight ahead as they spoke in stoic tones.
"I'm afraid it was worse."
"And what is to come of it?"
"Finis has called a war council."
A pause. If Constanza were a different person, she might have gasped. She did not blink. "Are you a part of it?"
"No."
"Do you know anyone who is?"
Dooku craned his neck to see the booth of Alderaan, where Bail Organa had accommodated Obi-Wan Kenobi as a visitor. The young Jedi was brooding more darkly than Dooku had ever seen him.
"Master Windu," Yan said, "as well as Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"Obi-Wan?" Constanza paused to remember. "Qui-Gon's boy?"
Boy. Yan's gaze remained steady on the young Kenobi, who was a capable and accomplished man in his own right. Yet he knew that sufficient pressure applied at the right time could reduce any man to boyhood. "Yes," he said. "He's represented the Jedi on the Galactic Commerce Committee for almost a year. He served on Eriadu, and Naboo, and, if we're to believe the reports, on Alaris Prime itself."
"I had no idea," said his sister-in-law with respect. She followed Yan's gaze to the Alderaanian party and the visiting Jedi. "He's very young for it."
"It's never stopped him in the past," said Yan, quieter and more uncertain that was his wont. Constanza cast him a look.
"And now?" she prodded.
Obi-Wan was talented at overcoming himself and his emotions; far better than Qui-Gon had been at his age, far better than any of his peers. He was not, however, inhuman.
"His whole lineage was on Geonosis," Yan said. "His best friend from childhood was killed in our escape. Jedi are not easily compromised, Obi-Wan least of all. But… this may be a rare occasion."
"Do you think he will misguide the Chancellor?" Constanza asked, watching her son. Aden was doing his best to remain aloof, but she could tell he was eavesdropping.
"Not intentionally," Dooku said. Constanza watched the young Kenobi a moment more before turning her attention back to Master Yoda, who was reciting the same information for the umpteenth time. No justification seemed to satisfy the panicked senators. The edges of the room seemed to shiver from collective anxiety.
"War does not wait for good intentions," Constanza said, brow set in the stern lines of someone who knew.
Yan clenched his jaw shut to avoid saying what he was thinking: that Obi-Wan was not yet old enough to have learned the same.
"Kenobi."
Obi-Wan and Bail Organa both turned to see Mace Windu standing to one side of the hall, beckoning. Obi-Wan glanced at the prince.
"Excuse me, senator."
"Of course."
Bail continued on into the conference room, and Obi-Wan weaved through the incoming throng of senators, agents, admirals, and aides toward Mace Windu.
"Master?" he said.
Mace gripped Obi-Wan's shoulder hard and pulled him closer to the wall. He looked him dead in the eye. "I need to know that you're ready for this."
With effort, Obi-Wan didn't flinch. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Mace cast a look up and down the hall. "Palpatine was summoned as well," he said. Obi Wan betrayed no reaction, but Mace could feel him and stiffen under his grip. The Master of the Order stared down the knight until he relaxed.
"I need to know that you're ready for him."
Obi-Wan's eyes were squeezed shut, mental walls built so high and thick that it gave even Mace Windu pause. "I've been meditating all afternoon," Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Mace sighed and nodded.
"As have I."
"What do you think he'll try to do?"
It was unnerving to see Mace Windu at a loss. "I couldn't say. Don't pay attention to him. This is about Geonosis. If called upon, what will you advise Valorum to do?"
Obi-Wan had been turning the problem over and over in his mind, but there was no simple solution. The Republic had no bargaining chips. They had no army. Poggle did not recognize their laws. They had intelligence that Geonosis had manufactured the droid army that'd been terrorizing Republic citizens for half a decade, and gave no apologies for the way in which they'd acquired it. Yet there was no clear way forward that did not demand immediate and costly warfare.
"He has to negotiate some kind of deal," Obi-Wan said. "If he has more of those armies hidden in his hives, stashed elsewhere, the Republic has no way to fight him, not without massive casualties."
Mace didn't look so sure. "After that show, do you really think Poggle will make a deal?"
Obi-Wan opened his mouth but found nothing to say.
"Masters Jedi," a protocol droid shuffled up to them and bowed. "The Council is preparing to convene."
As the Jedi walked in together, Mace grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist surreptitiously but firmly under his sleeve.
"Let the others speak first," the Master hissed. "Keep that silver tongue behind your teeth. This isn't a committee room spar."
Obi-Wan felt that he did not need to be told, but he nodded and took his seat at the massive conference table, three seats away from Master Windu. On his right was Senator Iblis of Corellia, and beyond him Senator Dameara Thane of Kuat – an old nemesis of Ben's, from what Obi-Wan understood, now appearing docile and wary. She was accompanied by the Secretary of the Kuati Navy, which was undoubtedly the largest military force the Core had to offer. Mace Windu's attention was taken by Senator Bail Organa on his right, who was whispering quiet concerns to the master, though Obi-Wan could not hear what he said. There was a naval commander with Bail bedecked in Alderaanian colors, and, from what Obi-Wan could see, he looked like a clone.
The Director of the SBI was in addenance, as were senators from Duros, Carida, and nearly every Core World of substantial military force. There were senators from farthur flung planets, too, some mere stones' throws away from Geonosis itself. Milarian, Christophsis, and Herdessa had all sent representatives. Alongside her senator, Admiral Titian sat straight-backed next to Mas Amedda, unique in the group for her involvement in the battle itself. Everyone in the room looked afraid, but Obi-Wan felt his eyes lingering on the deep creases in Titian's pink-skinned brow, the puckers near the corners of her mouth that made it look like she'd swallowed poison. He looked past Mas Amedda to the occupant of the seat directly opposite him - the Chairman of the Committee on Galactic Commerce and senator of Naboo, Sheev Palpatine. As if sensing his gaze, Palpatine glanced up and gave the Jedi a short, companionable nod.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan imagined he could see Garen's face smiling back at him instead of Palpatine's. He blinked, and then it was the pilots' faces, dozens of them alternating in a nauseating slideshow across the senator's face as he looked down and at his notes. Obi-Wan could hear Aola screaming, feel the snap and tear of Cody's leg as if it had been his own. For just a fleeting fraction of a second, he felt a brush of a memory – the sound of mechanical breathing, the blinding pain of a red lightsaber through his neck.
He blinked again, and the moment passed. He saw only Palpatine shuffling through his notes, sweating.
The Senator was sweating.
Something like adrenaline hit Obi-Wan's veins, and he realized that it was possible that their subterfuge had paid off. Maybe they'd succeeded in surprising Palpatine. Maybe he hadn't been prepared for Geonosis. Here he was sitting with his hands wrung into knots and he was sweating. Palpatine was worried, Obi-Wan realized. He was afraid that something could - would - go wrong for him.
All Obi-Wan had to do was to prove him right.
As the last members took their seats, the doors hissed shut and locked with a loud and sombering thunk. In the ensuing silence, Finis Valorum stood and straightened his tunic.
"Senators, Agents, Masters Jedi, Secretary, Admiral. Thank you for clearing your schedules on such short notice." It was a surreal nicety under the circumstances. The Republic itself had not gone to war in centuries. The thought of dismissing such a summons was laughable. No one said anything. Finis glanced through his notes, squared his jaw, and looked back up to the assembled company.
The Chancellor reviewed their situation in a taciturn tone. The mission and the subsequent battle, the involvement of the Herdessans, the massive losses. The intelligence gathered by Aola and Cody that implicated not one but four major droid manufacturing plants, and detailed the full number of droids ordered by the Trade Federation, over a fourth of which was still unknown by the Republic. Furthermore, Poggle's archives seemed to indicate that the king had at least some control over the droids, even though they nominally belonged to the Trade Federation. Finally, there was the reason for their meeting: King Poggle the Lesser's threat of war.
"The Republic relies on this company to craft a solution," Finis told the assembly. "Peace is our goal. But after years of of Republic-wide attacks by the droid armies of Geonosis and the Federation, peace may be beyond us." The Chancellor glanced around the room. "If it is to be war or peace, we must decide how we will win. Master Windu," Finis turned to face the Korun leader, and all eyes turned with him. "Of everyone in this room, I believe you best understand the breadth and depth of the Federations' military presence throughout the Republic. What is the current standing of the Federation armies?"
Mace drew a long breath, and the War Council launched into the fray. Speakers switched around the room and back again with interjections and questions at lightspeed.
"The incident on Eriadu is a prime example of our incomplete knowledge," Master Windu was saying after several interjections. "The Federation was able to hide a massive cache of droids there for years undetected. There could be more, similar sleeper cells all across the galaxy that we don't know about. If we fly headlong into war, Geonosis may gain control over what remains of the Federation and wake up their hidden armies. It would be bedlam, and we don't even know where the fighting would be the thickest. It is not as simple as declaring war on Geonosis - we would be declaring war on a hidden enemy."
"Which is exactly why we must pursue a diplomatic solution before it comes to bloodshed," said Bail Organa, and Obi-Wan gave a quiet nod in agreement. "Poggle's entire reign is built on the funding of the Trade Federation. With his sole benefactor in ruins, he has no more upward mobility,"
"Only hundreds of thousands of battle droids hidden throughout the galaxy," cut in Admiral Titian.
"Poggle is not the head of a snake we can just cut off," added Senator Iblis. "The Federation's money for the droids may disappear, but the manufacturing plants stay with Poggle. The more droids we find, the nastier they are. If he has any control over them -"
"My point is," Bail came back forcefully, "Poggle is ready for war not only because of the Republic's reconnaissance, but because we've blown the cover on his largest source of income, a Federation that we've been hunting to extinction for years. He's not defending his pride, he's defending the financial prosperity of his whole kingdom."
"And what would you suggest, Senator?" cut in the Kuati Secretary of the Navy. "That the Republic pay him back for his troubles? After all he's cost us in death and damages?"
Bail shrugged. "Are you suggesting we roll the dice on which Republic worlds will be overrun by droids the moment we declare war? Would you like to lead the charge on Geonosis?"
"If it means protecting the Republic from the extortion of a warmongering tyrant-"
"It would be a suicide run for all your men, Secretary," said Admiral Titian, with considerable venom.
"We may not have to choose," Sheev Palpatine spoke up, and all eyes turned to him.
The hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck stood on end, and he clenched his fists in an effort to keep his mental walls stacked high. There was still sweat beading on Palpatine's brow, and it made Obi-Wan's forehead knit together, mind straining to sense the senator's anxieties, his fears. If Palpatine was behind the Federation, behind Geonosis, then he would surely try to sabotage any attempt at peace. The Jedi clenched his jaw and listened.
"Senator Organa makes an important point. Poggle's interests are largely financial. The only reason he can possibly afford a war with the Republic is because we don't know where all of his armies are. But Poggle is taking a gamble just as much as we are. He's holding the last five years of terrorism over our heads to keep us afraid of him. However, we can call his bluff without resorting to war.
"Suppose we arrange to pay Poggle, as Senator Organa has implied, and in exchange, we demand the surrender of all outstanding Federation armies to the Republic."
Perhaps fueled by the same suspicion as Obi-Wan, Mace Windu did not seem impressed. "Poggle would never turn over all of his armies for money alone," the Jedi said sternly. "He's not stupid, and we cannot ransom what we don't control."
"Quite right, Master Windu," Palpatine said. "But if we also pay for Poggle to manufacture an army for the Republic, we can keep whatever armies he does give up, earn his good will, and arm ourselves. If it's money he wants, he'll have to give us legions to earn it. By the time he has enough funding for himself, he'll have provided us with more than enough droids to kill off whatever leftover armies he has hiding in our cellars."
The room was silent for a long moment. It was a bold gambit, and would be inordinately expensive, but no more expensive and far less deadly than a war.
Obi-Wan was scandalized, because it sounded like something he would come up with. But this was Palpatine. Sith Lord Palpatine. If Palpatine was suggesting this plan, it was because he would turn it to his advantage. Maybe he would pay Poggle under the table to make more droids for his cause, or maybe he would funnel away squadrons or whole armies from the Republic's cut or find someone else to manufacture an opposing army - maybe he was already extorting the Banking Clan. While the Republic enjoyed peace and a new military outfit, Palpatine would turn around and create new war puppets to challenge them. Poggle didn't want war, he wanted money. The Republic didn't want war, they wanted safety.
Obi-Wan knew that Palpatine wanted war, and saw now that he would hypnotize all sides with the objects of their desire until the Sith's army was big enough to pin the entire galaxy under his thumb.
"Senator Palpatine," Obi-Wan broke the silence, leaving Master Windu's advice by the wayside, "are you suggesting that we trust one of the most prolific arms dealers in recent memory to equip the very Republic that has destroyed his business?"
"Poggle is still struggling to validate his sovereignty," Palpatine replied easily. "If the Republic becomes the highest bidder, Poggle is not only gaining a new client, he's earning Geonosis economic recognition from the Republic. To Outer Rim worlds, that is no small boon." The Senators of Milarian and Christophsis bobbed their heads in agreement.
"Poggle is warlord," Obi-Wan insisted, "he's terrorised dozens of worlds."
"He's outfitted terrorists, but the terrorists themselves have fallen to ruin, thanks to your illustrious Order," Palpatine said. It was a compliment, and yet it stung like an insult.
"If he is willing to outfit terrorists, I don't trust him to not double cross us," Obi-Wan glared across the table. "This galaxy needs fewer battle droids, not more. The intelligence gathered on Geonosis implies that Poggle may be capable of controlling the droids he's created, even though they belonged to the Federation. Who is to say he wouldn't retain control of any droids he made for the Republic? It's a fool's errand."
"So is war, Master Kenobi," Palpatine snapped.
"Knight Kenobi," Mace Windu said in warning. Obi-Wan ignored him.
"War against a half-decimated army is better than inviting an entire militia through our front door," the Jedi snapped.
"Our militia," countered Palpatine.
"Made by man who slaughtered eighteen Jedi and nearly half of the Herdessan Fleet!" Obi-Wan raised his voice, indignant. "If he paints Republic insignias on the droids who did it, does it cover up his crimes?"
"Master Kenobi," Mace Windu was glaring at him. Even Bail Organa looked uncertain. It made Obi-Wan uneasy, but then he saw Palpatine's face, and knew that opposing the Sith was more important that pleasing his allies.
"Chancellor," he turned toward Finis, ignoring Mace. "We all want peace, but we cannot achieve it through more armies."
Finis was sitting tall at the head of the table, hands clenched so tightly together Obi-Wan could see the bones of his knuckles. "Sometimes we achieve it exactly so, Master Kenobi," the Chancellor said cooly, "though you may not have come across such solutions in your limited experience in legislation."
While the Jedi smarted from the blow, Senator Thane cleared her throat.
"We had an army," she reminded the group, and glanced at the naval commander who sat at Bail's right side. "If we re-assembled the clone army from Kamino-" but she did not get any further.
"Absolutely not," Bail exclaimed, and Senator Iblis and both Herdessans rose to echo the Prince's outrage. A blur of argument erupted.
"Sir," Obi-Wan turned to face Finis, cutting short the squabbling. "Negotiate with Poggle, pay for his peace and the surrender of existing armies, if you really think it wise, but do not let him turn peace into war. We've destroyed enough battle droids. We can't invite more into the Republic, no matter who paid for them."
"He won't turn them all over, Master Kenobi, as we have already discussed," said Mace Windu, fixing the younger Jedi with a glare of concentrated warning to shut up. Obi-Wan ignored it.
"Poggle knows that we can destroy his armies. With the intelligence gathered on Geonosis, we know exactly how many droids the Federation commissioned from Poggle, and we know we've destroyed seventy-two percent of them. Finding and destroying the rest is a matter of time. Poggle has no hope of standing up against the Republic."
"We may know that armies exist, but we do not know where they are," said Senator Thane. "If it comes to fighting, they will still cost us more damages, probably more lives."
"We've made it this far against them," Obi-Wan insisted. "We know how to destroy them. I'll hunt them down myself. But," he turned to look at Finis, "we cannot pretend as though buying droids from this warmonger is a solution to fighting."
Three different people began talking over one another, and three more. Finis Valorum rubbed at his temples. Mace Windu glared at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan glared at Palpatine. Palpatine continued to sweat.
The Council took recess after four hours for Valorum to consider his final decision. Obi-Wan was one of the first members out of the room, and Mace Windu had to jog to catch up with him.
"What did I say about that silver tongue?" Mace hissed, grabbing Obi-Wan by the shoulder and half dragging him down a quiet hallway. Obi-Wan was ready for it, and shrugged off the Master's grip.
"We cannot let him have the ear of the Chancellor," the knight said.
"Palpatine?"
"Of course, Palpatine," Obi-Wan hissed in low tones. Mace closed his eyes and shook his head like he were trying to reign in a child – and perhaps he was.
"Obi-Wan, I told you to ignore him. What's happened on Geonosis is more important right now. This isn't about Palpatine."
"Of course it's about Palpatine," Obi-Wan shot back. "It always is. No matter how often you and Ben say otherwise, it has always been about him. He's been manipulating all of this, all of us for years, he's the reason all those people died. If we have the chance to throw him off, we have to take it. Why else did you send Qui-Gon and I to Kamino? Why send Aola to Geonosis?"
Mace took a deep breath to steady himself, and Obi-Wan almost took a step back when he sensed the sudden tendrils of Vaapad anger whirling around the elder Jedi. Mace reached out and gripped Obi-Wan's shoulder near his neck, hard enough to hurt. The Knight looked the Master in the eye and found it hard to look away. He felt small.
"Obi-Wan," Mace said, voice steady and terrifying in its calm, "I am the keeper of over ten thousand Jedi, here on Coruscant and across the Galaxy. When I authorize missions, that is my purview. But when it comes to war, I have no control. Once war is declared, the Senate has control. People like Bail and Valorum, yes, but Palpatine too." He let it sink in, brown eyes still staring into blue. "I sent you to Kamino, I sent Aola to Geonosis because I knew that whatever happened, I could take care of you. But if you encourage Valorum to war…" he paused, and a flicker of uncertainty passed over his face. "Jedi do not have the same rights as citizens, Obi-Wan. If they tell us to fight, there's very little we can do to say no."
"We can fight against Geonosis, we have been for years without knowing it."
"Not while the Senate is calling the shots," Mace corrected.
Obi-Wan felt cornered, helpless. "And would you rather follow Palpatine's advice? Play into whatever he has planned?"
Mace opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. He let go of the man's shoulder and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "War is what he wants, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's brow was taut like the Master's, new age lines having appeared within the last few days. "I know that. But are we going to let him have it on his own terms?"
Within an hour, Valorum had reached a decision.
"We will ask to negotiate a price," Valorum announced to the re-assembled council, "one payment for every thousand droids surrendered to Republic custody, and," Valorum spared a glance at Obi-Wan, "a second payment for every manufacturing plant closed."
The Secretary of Kuat's Navy scoffed. "With all do respect sir, you don't honestly think he'll agree to such terms-"
Finis was unmoved. "It is a moot point, Secretary, but it is far better to offer an open hand before rushing into war."
"If you intend on losing it, yes."
"Chancellor," Palpatine piped up, "Expecting Poggle to surrender his armies for payment is one thing… expecting him to shutter his plants is an insult. He won't destroy his source of income. If we're not willing to pay him to use the plants, someone else will. He won't agree to it."
"Every man has his price, Senator," Finis insisted. "I think we can all agree our citizens have endured enough battle droids for one generation that we might endeavor to put a stop to the whole thing. Worlds from Core to Rim would agree that their wallets are more easily replaced than the lives of their citizens."
And so it was settled. Valorum's office delivered the communique to Geonosis within the day. The Senators returned to their offices. The Jedi returned to the Temple.
When Obi-Wan arrived at his apartment, to exhausted to think, Qui-Gon was waiting for him in the living room. His robes were pressed and clean, his hair combed straight, and he was shrugging on on the cleanest, darkest brown cloak he owned.
"I was afraid you wouldn't make it," the master said. "Did you not get my messages?"
Obi-Wan stopped short at the door, frowning. "What messages?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, pulling up his hood. "Get yourself cleaned up. I told Bant we'd pick her up from the landing docks. We need to be at the halls by twentieth hour."
Obi-Wan remained baffled, and blinked several times, trying to rationalize. Bant was scheduled to be off-planet for another three months, a preparation for her Trials. Why was Qui-Gon picking her up form the docks - and in formal dress, no less?
"The halls?" Obi-Wan asked aloud. Qui-Gon looked at him in sympathy, now recognizing the haze in the knight's eyes.
"The Halls of Remembrance, Obi-Wan," he reminded softly. Obi-Wan's face fell.
Garen's funeral was only the first in a long line of funerals held for the Gold Squadron that evening. None of the pilots' bodies had been recovered, so thick memorial shrouds were placed on the pyres in their place, each adorned with the rank and class of the Jedi. Clee Rhara herself placed Garen's shroud on the pyre, looking smaller and and thinner than Obi-Wan had ever seen her.
Reeft and Bant had both flown in for the event, and sat at Obi-Wan's side in the front row as Master Yoda reminded them of the Force that carried all Jedi past the gross matter of this life.
Bant was crying, though she was trying hard not to show it. Reeft reached over to hold her hand, sniffing past tears of his own. Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's eyes on him, emmenating concern from afar, but he was so tired he could not find any tears to shed. His heart weighed as heavy as a star, threatening to burn him up and sink through the floor.
Once the funeral had ended, Jedi began filtering out one by one, some lingering to pay their respects while the pyres continued to burn. The contingent of faceless temple guards would stand guard until the last flames were out, and would then inter the ashen shrouds with their brothers and sisters in the catacombs.
As the night crept on, Qui-Gon, Reeft, and Bant all quietly left. Obi-Wan remained, unwilling to leave the warmth of fire, unable to imagine the coldness of the world after.
Garen had been at his side since the beginning, since before either of them could talk. They'd learned to walk together, learned to hold a saber together. They'd studied together, fought together, dreamed of what they'd be in the future together. As boys, they'd even talked about how, one day, in some heroic act of stupid, magnificent bravery that would land them straight in the history books, they might even die together.
Now freed of prying eyes, Obi-Wan stared at the burning shroud and let the flickering flames grow fat and watery through his tears.
There were only a handful Jedi left in the hall around the row of burning pyres; masters, padawans, friends left to rationalize. Grief acknowledged no Code, and so long as the flames lived on, there would be no judgment cast on the emotions of those left behind.
Clee Rhara sniffed loudly, and Obi-Wan realized she was sitting not too far away. She was desperately trying to stifle her tears, wiping at her eyes and nose beneath her hood. After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan moved to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders. The master stiffened, and then realized who it was. She unravelled.
Obi-Wan was larger than she was, so he was the one holding her as she cried, but his tears fell as freely. When her sobs subsided, the Master sat back up and wiped her eyes. Her hood had fallen back to reveal a cropped head of silver where once there had been lively red.
"I didn't feel it," Clee spoke, the hoarse brokenness of her voice as unfamiliar as the hole in Obi-Wan's own chest. "When he died. I didn't feel it. I thought… I thought I should feel something. Feel him torn away. I've felt death before. In others. I thought… I thought if ever something happened, if he… he died, I'd sense it. But I…" she choked on her guilt. "I didn't even know until someone told me. I didn't realize I couldn't feel him until he was hours gone." Her tears began anew.
Obi-Wan hadn't thought of it before, but realized now that his experience was the same. He'd been friends with Garen since the crib, and their bond was as close as any might be outside of a master-apprentice team. He realized with a renewed sense of loss that he hadn't felt anything when Garen had died, hadn't even known to feel his loss until Celi had told him at the docks.
"It's not supposed to happen like that," Master Rhara was saying. "I should've felt something. He shouldn't have… have disappeared without my knowing. Surely. Surely I should've felt it."
"I didn't feel it either," Obi-Wan confessed. Clee looked to him, surprised, and in turn, comforted. She nodded, and absurdly, shrugged. Chin wobbling, voice shaking, she complained:
"That damn boy never tells me anything."
Obi-Wan let out a laugh, which changed into a sob before it was through. The tears he'd missed all day surged forward all at once, and he cried aloud into his hands as a boy who'd lost his brother. With maternal grace, Clee drew him in and pet his hair as they both wept and waited for the flames to die.
Obi-Wan was an empty shell by morning. He slept in, and Qui-Gon let him. But around nine o'clock, someone else let themselves into the Jinn/Kenobi apartments and pounded on Obi-Wan's door before barging in.
"Get up," snapped Mace Windu, startling the younger man awake into to a world of mid-morning light and a leftover headache from the night's tears. "The Chancellor's called us both back to the Senate. It appears Poggle has delivered his response. Negotiations, if you can call them that, begin today."
"Is it war?" Obi-Wan asked, voice hoarse.
Mace looked wary. "Not yet," he said. "Get dressed."