Author's Note:

To those who don't have accounts with FanFiction: Thank you for the kind reviews! Especially the guest who gave me an advice. I'm flattered! I'm happy to read that you are all enjoying the story so far. Please enjoy the next chapter below.

Best,

Annie Walker


Chapter 29: The Underworld's Natural Habitat

Obi-Wan maneuvered his way through the throngs of swirly, boisterous people in the lower, seedy levels of Coruscant. He was never fond of making deals way in these dark depths, but in the past (future?) years, it became a requirement and a daily activity. Not all the inhabitants were untrustworthy. Some were compassionate and helpful. It was unfortunate that their lives took a wrong turn.

He easily spotted his contact. Duran stood a little over six feet, wearing a long hooded jacket and pants that was strapped with all types of weapons. As a Duros, he was an adventurous fellow and believed carrying a blaster saved time and trouble.

Obi-Wan swiftly dodged the passing civilians and approached Duran, who tilted his head, large red eyes peering out from the shadows of his hood. "You're late."

"I apologize," Obi-Wan answered.

Duran grunted. "Put up your hood," he snipped. "It's still daylight out here. I can't be seen mingling with a Jedi."

Obi-Wan threw up his hood, obscuring his appearance. "You have intel?"

Duran nodded and nudged his head in the direction to a more clearing area. Obi-Wan obliged and walked side-by-side with the Duros. They said nothing, waiting until they knew they could not be overheard. Once they were in a more 'secluded' area, Duran pulled Obi-Wan into a tight corner underneath an archway.

Scrunched in the constricted quarters, Obi-Wan shifted his shoulder that pressed against the wall. "Cozy," he muttered as Duran frowned at the remark. "What was important that needed me to meet right away?"

Duran's frown stayed. "You know the deal, Jedi."

Unlike Dexter, Duran required quid pro quo. He had information… for a price. Obi-Wan knew this when he sought after Duran's help. He dug into his deep pockets and passed a handsome fee.

Duran counted the money, pleased with the total. He pocketed it. "As you asked, I kept my eyes and ears open for any news about an aristocratic scum."

"Not the words I chose," Obi-Wan clarified, "but I am hoping that it means you have news then?"

Duran nodded. "Indeed… I had some of my colleagues scope out the many levels and one returned that somewhat matched the description."

"Where?"

"In the slum district," Duran answered. "By Lauli Wahlo's Noodle shop."

Of course. That sounded about right. If Dooku needed bounty hunters, the slums were a great recruitment area. Anakin had the unfortunate pleasure in entering the areas to capture some dangerous criminals during the war. Obi-Wan never had any interest in going that far down in Coruscant's underworld. But now, the time has arrived for him to go further into the depths of the underworld.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, grateful. They now had a lead on Dooku's location. "Your information is much appreciated."

Duran bowed his head in acceptance at the gratitude. "Pleasure doing business," he said. "If necessary, I'll be happy to direct you to the exact location."

Obi-Wan gave pause. "Are you expecting more credits in this offer?"

Duran shook his head. "Only offering because I don't want your dead body to be linked back to me."

At least he wasn't requiring more credits. Obi-Wan felt guilty enough for robbing Qui-Gon of his account. Though, the statement about his 'dead body' wasn't reassuring to him either. Anakin mentioned that the slums were no place for any being to visit or let alone reside. It might be necessary to have an escort that knew his way around the seedy parts of Coruscant.

"Then by all means," Obi-Wan said, gesturing a hand to the crowded pathway. "Lead the way."

They slunk out of the archway and headed deeper into Coruscant's underworld. Neon lights blared and seared his eyes, forcing him to keep his head down to avoid the brutality. Loud noises resounded around them, music booming from nightclubs (it was midafternoon and yet the nightclubs still kept going—astounding!) and squirrelly residents who mumbled nonsense. Their eyes darted from one face to the next, their fingers fumbling on the thin fabric of their shirts. On a couple occasions, a fight tumbled out in front of them. Obi-Wan stepped in to break it up, but Duran pinched his arm and steered him away from the punching fists.

"Don't get involved," Duran warned as he dragged Obi-Wan away. "Once you reveal yourself, you won't be dealing with two."

Jedi were that detested in the Undercity. The criminals, hoodlums and poor blamed Jedi for their failings. For their lack of success and empty bank accounts. Everything was the Jedi's fault. Lost a job: Jedi's fault. Stopped a bounty heist: Jedi's fault. Ended a drug ring: Jedi's fault.

It's no wonder Duran wanted Obi-Wan to keep his hood up. Spotted with a cursed being resulted in losing one's reputation or, quite easily, one's life.

They have traveled by foot for a long time when Duran pointed to a noodle shop. "You see there," he said and Obi-Wan followed his direction. "That's where he spotted your missing friend."

Obi-Wan scowled. "He's not a friend."

He moved along, arriving at the mouth of the alleyway. He peeked in, expecting to find absolutely nothing, but reeled in surprised. He hurried into the alleyway, robe bellowing behind him. Shadow lines crossed his face in patterns as his feet came to a slow padding when he realized it was too late.

Laying before him was a dead clawdite, severed in half. By a lightsaber.

Obi-Wan raised a hand to his forehead. Dooku killed it. He murdered the changeling as he predicted. It sickened him. He knew he shouldn't be surprised. He predicted the incident to Master Yoda and Master Windu earlier. But, seeing the outcome, to stare right into the changeling's opened eyes… Dooku was mad!

Footsteps behind him signaled Duran behind him, followed by a short, disgruntle whistle. "Is that a body?"

Obi-Wan stiffly nodded. "Yes," he nearly choked out. He took a deep breath. "I must contact the Temple."

Duran bright red eyes loomed on him. "For one murder? This happens all the time down here."

Obi-Wan did not know how to comment on such a dreary statement. So many problems on their home front and yet, they were too busy dealing with a never-ending war. With a weary sigh, Obi-Wan turned away from Duran. "This changeling was a hired assassin who attacked the Jedi Temple just a few hours ago," he said. "I need to report my findings."

Obi-Wan pulled out his comlink and readied to dial for Anakin.


Qui-Gon woke up to the smell of a sterile environment and immediately groaned. Not the Halls of Healing. Not again.

Stiffly, he turned his neck to take in his surroundings, but stopped when he found Anakin at attention by his bedside. A loose grin spread across the young Jedi's face.

"About time you woke up," Anakin greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Qui-Gon replied and he rose up, pushing his back up against the pillow. He took a deep breath, breathing in the stale air that he detested so much. He much preferred the fresh air from planets far away from Coruscant. He glanced around one more time. "Where's my padawan? Is he safe? Is he all right?"

Anakin nodded. "The boy is safe and well," he replied. "He'll be here soon."

"Where did he go?"

"To get food," Anakin replied, hands loose on his hips. "The padawan hadn't eaten in hours. He nearly passed out and the healers threatened to hook him up to a nutrition drip. So, he joined Healer Che to grab some food."

"But not to worry," Anakin continued, patting the cot twice, "he'll return soon. And, he'll be relieved to see you awake."

Qui-Gon was sure of that truth. He imagined Obi-Wan waiting right next to his cot, willing his mind to force him to wake to no avail. He probably blamed himself for this whole incident. He took another glance at Anakin, noting the calmed, but strained lines underneath his eyes.

"How are you?" Qui-Gon asked, bewildering the Jedi Knight.

"Me? I'm fine."

"Your appearance says otherwise," Qui-Gon muttered.

Anakin's grin cracked brighter, his boyish appearance returned. "You should see the others," he claimed. "But, as I said, I'm fine."

"Excuse me if I do not believe it," Qui-Gon said and he relaxed against his cot, eyes drifting around the room. "Where is Master Kenobi?"

Anakin's smile vanished, replaced with a content line and a simple shrug. "I don't know," he said. "He left to investigate. Something about meeting up with a contact."

Qui-Gon sat up. "A contact?" he said, uncertainly. "And you let him go alone?"

"Someone had to stay with you and the padawan," Anakin argued, suddenly defensive. He moved his arms in front of his chest. "Besides, he didn't want anyone to come with him."

Qui-Gon sensed the underlining turmoil beneath those fatigue lines and hardened words. There were still unresolved issues between the two of them. What happened to make them become cold to one another? One moment, they were talking and teasing one another and now, they barely know where the other is located or doing.

Whatever happened, the two better get over it. Jedi do not let their emotions rule their judgement or actions. And, more importantly, Qui-Gon disliked their cold indifference towards each other. "How long was I out?" he asked to redirect the conversation away from the tension.

"About seven hours," Anakin answered. "Just got out of the bacta tank not too long ago."

Qui-Gon raised his brows in surprise. To be stabbed and poisoned, he figured days had passed. Not hours. The Force truly sided with him. Then again, he remembered—faintly—Jedi Kenobi's voice. His older padawan's reassuring voice, comforting and encouraging him to not give into the pain. To keep fighting.

And here he was. Still breathing and very much alive.

An appreciative smile tugged at the corners of Qui-Gon's lips. "You all did well," he said, softly, and Anakin perked up at the compliment, basking in the praise. "You did well under pressure. Kept a cool head."

"Well—we've been trained well for these type of situations," Anakin remarked. "We're quite used to these life-death situations."

"Unfortunately," Qui-Gon mumbled, recalling the future Anakin and Jedi Kenobi lived. He looked back up to Anakin, who clearly didn't hear his mumbled comment. "Either way, thank you. And not simply for saving my life, but for being there for my padawan as well. It gives me comfort to know he had you there for support."

Anakin's head suddenly dipped, his chin near his chest. "Of course…um, we—"

Whatever Anakin was going to say, Qui-Gon didn't know. He became distracted when the door opened and a lanky teenager stepped over the threshold. For a brief moment, time almost stilled. Obi-Wan froze upon seeing Qui-Gon. Then, a warm smile melted everything and Obi-Wan sprinted from the door to the cot.

"Master!"

For a moment, Qui-Gon thought Obi-Wan was going to climb onto the cot beside him. However, his padawan restrained himself and just stood as close as possible to the cot, his eyes—the colors changeable from blue to green—hungrily scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

Qui-Gon put on a brave face. "Padawan," he returned the greeting in a calm, cheerful manner. "It is good to see you well."

"As it is with you, Master," Obi-Wan agreed, relief easing all the tensed muscles in the padawan's face. "Are you feeling any better? Do you need me to do anything?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm well, padawan," he answered. "My worries rest with you. How are you?"

"Me? I'm fine, Master," Obi-Wan replied, nonchalantly. And, from what Qui-Gon sensed, the padawan was honest. Physically, Obi-Wan was well. Emotionally… exhausted and drained. Qui-Gon was correct in knowing that Obi-Wan would handle the attack unwell. But as he already mentioned to Anakin, he was glad that him and Jedi Kenobi were there to be a strong pillar for him.

Obi-Wan leaned on the cot, but his disturbance didn't bother Qui-Gon. The guilt look in his eyes did. "Master—I'm sorry that I got you injured," he murmured. "I didn't—"

Qui-Gon sliced the air between him and Obi-Wan with his hand. "Apology unnecessary," he said to the boy. "The fault lies with the assassin. Not you. I'm only thankful that the changeling didn't stab you as well."

"It wasn't without trying, Master."

Qui-Gon had no doubt. He remembered sensing the dangers swarming his padawan's Force presence. He rushed as quickly as possible to the location. When he opened Obi-Wan's door and spotted the padawan with his lightsaber ignited, he knew he arrived in time. But, he could do very little when the changeling turned and gutted him. He remembered being casted aside as the intruder sprinted off and Obi-Wan calling out—a mixture of pain and sorrow filled that room when Obi-Wan screamed.

"Was the changeling caught?" Qui-Gon questioned, looking to Anakin for an answer.

Anakin shook his head. "It got away," he said. "That's where Obi-Wan is right now. Investigating."

"I see," Qui-Gon thought for a moment. "Do we know of the identity at least?"

Again, Anakin shook his head.

"Padawan Kenobi here managed to get some blood from the changeling," Anakin commented, gesturing to the padawan. "The healers are running tests. We should hear back soon."

As if almost Anakin's words were commands, the door opened once again for to two new guests. The relaxed atmosphere changed considerably, turning to almost a formal gathering rather than a healer's room. It seemed Master Yoda and Master Windu had such a talent—particularly Master Windu with his stoic and seldom relaxed nature.

The two masters strolled further into the room, stopping close to the end of Qui-Gon's cot. Obi-Wan, as polite as ever, brought the remaining chair over for Master Yoda to sit. The Grandmaster thanked the padawan, taking a seat while Master Windu stood at his side, peering peculiarly at the padawan before turning his gaze to Qui-Gon.

"It's good to see you awake, Qui-Gon," Master Windu's voice said, heavy.

Master Yoda nodded in agreement. "Well, you are?"

"Better than before," Qui-Gon admitted and flicked a gratified glance to Anakin and Obi-Wan. "I have these Jedi to thank for my survival."

A corner of Anakin's mouth twitched, but the smile didn't follow through. He portrayed the more obedient Jedi, staying back and accepting it with humility. Something he didn't often show—at least, not in his presence. Another sneak peek gave Qui-Gon a sense of guilt emitting from the young Jedi Knight. Guilt for what, Qui-Gon wasn't quite sure. But the moment he mentioned how he was proud that he and Jedi Kenobi took care of Obi-Wan, Anakin felt unsettled. Was it possible the reason why he and Jedi Kenobi acted distant to each other?

Another time to worry about it. His padawan bowed his head at the compliment. His attempt to deflect it away from him, believing himself undeserving of the high praise. If anyone would accept it with polite grace was the one person missing from the room: Jedi Kenobi.

Master Yoda nodded his head in agreement. "Quick thinking," he said. "Experienced in such incidents, they are."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon said between strained breaths.

Of course. Qui-Gon didn't dare to look back at Anakin. Out of fear he would look upon the young Jedi Knight with disappointment or detest. Not out of his character. But, out of the background he and Jedi Kenobi came from—a galaxy-torn war.

Jedi were peacekeepers. Not soldiers.

And, it agitated him that his padawan and grandpadawan turned away from the path. He didn't blame them. He blamed the slow, decaying corruption of the galaxy around them. He knew of the political games. Master Dooku took him to enough of those Senate meetings to know that most politicians were self-serving. He would deny if anyone ever asked, but Qui-Gon agreed with his old master—somewhat.

The Jedi Order were becoming too complacent. Relied and obeyed the Senate more than the Force. Missions became political gains rather than peaceful brokers. It wasn't noticeable. Not at a single glance. But, if one paid close attention, it was like a sunset. The light slowly dissolving, suffocating under the merciless darkness of the night. A darkness that had no plans to surrender.

Qui-Gon saw it. He felt if through the Force. It's the reason he disobeyed the Council several times. He felt the Force warning him, pushing him in a different direction than the Council. It annoyed Obi-Wan that he disobeyed or undermined the Council's orders. But, he hoped now that his padawan understood. He was doing it not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

He will do what he must. Even if it goes against everything else.

Master Yoda slipped a humorous huff as he situated himself again on the chair. "It is good to know, in good health, you are," the old Grandmaster said. "Of your assailant we bring news."

At this news, Qui-Gon sensed the alertness of both Anakin and Obi-Wan. Both were eager to know the true identity that nearly killed them both.

Master Windu, arms unfolding from his robes, spoke. "The blood test came back with a match," he notified the Jedi. He clicked on a device that nestled in his palm. A bright, blue light shot up. A holograph and details in view of a strange-looking creature. Qui-Gon peered closer, amazed by the true face of their assassin.

"The real face of a changeling," Qui-Gon murmured, examining the scaling, rough skin and the large eyes.

Obi-Wan scooted closer to the image, standing near Master Yoda as he took in the image before him. "I understand its preference to be anyone else."

Qui-Gon shot a reproachful look to Obi-Wan, but the padawan raised one shoulder in shrug.

Anakin stepped closer to the image. A sign of recognition flittering his features. "It's a clawdite."

Master Windu nodded. "Yes, a clawdite bounty hunter to be precise," he said to Anakin. "Her name is Sana Wesell. Considered a specialist in her field."

Qui-Gon arched his eyebrows. A specialist. He had an inkling of what type of specialist the clawdite was.

Anakin moved closer to the holograph, studying it closely with a contort look of one with a history. "Wesell?"

Master Windu caught the hint of anger underneath Anakin's words. He jumped on it. "Know this bounty hunter?"

Anakin pulled his eyes from the screen and flipped them to Master Windu. He held his gaze for a moment and Qui-Gon almost expected Anakin to go on some tirade. Instead, the young Jedi shook his head. "Never heard of Sana Wesell."

"Yet, recognize her, you do," Master Yoda pointed out.

Anakin half shrugged in response and mumbled. "Not her."

Qui-Gon stayed puzzled and glanced at the two Masters. They all knew Anakin was lying. Or at least, telling half-truths. He recognized something from the holograph. That was certain. Perhaps not this particular bounty hunter. But…an associate?

"We should let Obi-Wan know," Anakin said, redirecting everyone to a new topic. He pulled out comlink, dialing in seconds.

"Has he not returned?" Master Windu asked.

"Not yet, Master," Obi-Wan replied

The idling sound of silence fell as they waited for a voice to croak through the speakers. Tensed lines began to draw along Anakin's eyes as each second of silence passed until a beep alerted acceptance and a cultured, older voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi echoed.

"Kenobi," Jedi Kenobi's static voice returned.

"Hey Obi-Wan, it's me," Anakin replied into the comlink. "Got the blood test back. There's a match."

Qui-Gon flicked his focus to the holograph image before returning back to Anakin.

"The name's Sana Wesell. A clawdite," Anakin kept talking into the comlink. "Apparently she specializes in poison. Look—tell whoever your contact is to keep an eye out for a clawdite." Anakin turned back, eyes peering back at the image one more time. "If it helps, she has a scar running along her—"

"Right arm," Jedi Kenobi finished.

The room fell in silence. Qui-Gon looked back to the details. Right underneath physical recognition section, it stated Sana Wesell has a scar running along her arm. It made Qui-Gon very curious to know how Jedi Kenobi knew of the physical detail.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

Anakin spoke into the comlink. "How did you know that?"

"Because I'm looking right at her," Jedi Kenobi responded, calmly. "Or…what's left of her."

The atmosphere changed from silent curiosity to a grave silence that threw a shawl of disquiet amongst the five of them.

Anakin took a deep breath. "You found the body?"

"Was just about to report it back to you," Jedi Kenobi answered back. He sounded very tired. "Cause of death—sai tok."

Anakin curled his fingers around the comlink. Master Yoda and Master Windu glance at each other with weary stares. Obi-Wan leaned against the cot, edging closer to Qui-Gon, who remained disturbed by the news.

The clawdite—Sana Wesell—was sliced in half. A deadly technique more associated with Sith teachings. The bounty hunter fell prey to the deadly predator. A simple, swipe of the blade to the clawdite's body. No mercy. No forgiveness.

The nature of the Sith.

"Lightsaber," Jedi Kenobi continued and then static filled the void for a brief moment. "I would say she's been dead for at least six hours."

They all looked up at each other. Six hours. At least six hours. That meant…Qui-Gon drew out a long breath. The clawdite died almost immediately after its escape from the Temple. The Sith Lord knew of her failure.

Qui-Gon massaged his temples with his fingers. How was it possible the Sith knew? Only Jedi inside the Temple knew of the attack. How was it possible for the Sith Lord to still have access to the Temple? To witness everything happening to them. Is it not safe? Is his padawan in danger staying inside the Temple? If the Sith kept having access to the inner workings and activities of the Temple, then it could only mean that the Sith fitted within the walls. That the Sith was…

Qui-Gon's heart thumped. He didn't want to believe it. But, it made sense. The Sith's free access to the Temple. It's strange connection with Obi-Wan. The reason Jedi Kenobi and Anakin refused to give names or physical features.

This future Sith Lord…was a Jedi Knight.

Qui-Gon's hand involuntarily reached for his padawan, feeling the soft fabric of the boy's tunics. Obi-Wan felt the gesture and he immediately stepped into place beside his Master.

Qui-Gon eyes jumped from Anakin to Master Windu and Master Yoda. He wondered if they came to the same conclusion. It wasn't unheard of for a Jedi to fall to the dark side. Qui-Gon's last apprentice fell to the dark side. But none of them came close to becoming Sith Lords. All were either Grey or Dark Jedi.

"Master Kenobi?" Master Windu's voice shattered Qui-Gon's grave thoughts. The Councilor spoke loud to the comlink. "It is best you return to the Temple. Call in Coruscant's security. Have them deliver the body to the Halls of Healing for further investigation."

"Yes Master Windu," Jedi Kenobi obeyed. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you," Master Yoda said as Anakin ended the call.

Anakin clipped it back to his belt, discouraged and unsettled. His eyebrows furrowed in a concentration of a man planning a military strategy.

Master Yoda let off a long sigh of discomfort. "Difficult to see, is it," he spoke, quiet. "Rising, the Dark side is. Clouding everything, it is."

"Master Kenobi did warn that the changeling would most likely be dead," Master Windu reminded Master Yoda and informed everyone else. "He believed the Sith would end her services."

"He typically does," Anakin grunted in reply. He crossed his arms, strolling passed the Masters and to the window, observing traffic. "If one does not immediately do as one is told, you tend to get a lightsaber to the heart."

"Pleasant," Obi-Wan muttered, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How is this Sith aware of everything that is occurring though? How did he know she failed to kill me?"

Anakin shrugged. "Probably the same way he knew you were in the detention centers or in the training room," he said, eyes still on the traffic. "He has access to the Temple. Somehow."

Master Windu shut down Sana Wesell's information, knowing they will need to update it once the body was cleared. "Another death. Less than a week and Darth Tyranus is already responsible for the deaths of at least eight individuals," he said, his tone edged close to a growl. "How much longer do you intend to keep the rest of us in the dark, Skywalker?"

Anakin whirled at the accusation. His lips thinned and pressed to a tight line, eyes burning hot blue. "Are you suggesting that I'm protecting this… monster?"

"Aren't you?" Master Windu challenged.

Anakin's nose flared and Qui-Gon saw heat rising to the young Jedi's cheeks. "I would never help him!" he snarled. "He can rot in all nine Corellian Hells."

"Then maybe it's about time you tell us more than vague details of this Sith Lord."

Anakin's anger faltered, a peculiar expression replaced it as he studied Master Windu. Anakin straightened his back again, but his eyes remained deadly. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I made a promise," Anakin begrudgingly admitted, arms crossed in front of his chest. Qui-Gon sensed that the young Knight wasn't exactly thrilled with his sworn allegiance.

"While your loyalty is commended, this goes far beyond than your commitment to Master Kenobi. You are a Jedi Knight. You are chosen to uphold the peace and stability of the Republic. Your loyalty is to the Jedi Order, first and foremost. Not to your former master," Master Windu stated, accusingly. "Your protection of the Sith Lord is only getting more people killed. How many more deaths will fall before either you or Kenobi tell the truth?"

Anakin said nothing, but Qui-Gon could see that he desperately wanted to. But, Anakin swallowed back the bitter taste in his throat. He only stared daggers at the Councilor, before turning his back to the Councilor. A universal sign of disrespect.

"I know of my loyalties and oaths, Master," Anakin called over his shoulder. "And I take them very seriously."

And, from that statement only, Qui-Gon knew Anakin was telling the truth. But, as to what or who holds Anakin's loyalty is a mystery that Qui-Gon wasn't quite sure he wanted to know the answer. Not that he approved of sworn loyalty to an establishment, but it did make Qui-Gon nervous as to how one gains Anakin's loyalty.

In hopes to derail the argument, Qui-Gon turned to Master Yoda. "Master Yoda?"

The Grandmaster's ears perked up at the sound of Qui-Gon's voice. "Yes, Qui-Gon?"

"I believe my padawan and I may need new living arrangements."


Obi-Wan clipped his comlink back to his belt.

"Coruscant's security will be here shortly," Obi-Wan said, turning back to Duran. "You may take your leave. I can handle myself until they arrive. You've been a great help Duran."

Duran nodded. "Of course, anything for a Jedi."

Or for a sack full of credits, Obi-Wan humored. "If you don't wish to be spotted by security," he advised. "I suggest you get going."

"My pleasure," Duran said, turning his back on Obi-Wan. He adjusted his jacket, concealing all of his weapons. He swaggered out of the alleyway where another person stood at attention waiting. "Garth? You checking up on me?"

Obi-Wan raised his brows in a questionable manner. He stretched his neck to look over Duran's shoulder. Garth was a lanky human with ratty hair, nearly swallowed in his oversized cloak. Garth only arrived a few minutes ago when he dialed for the Coruscant security, but Obi-Wan wondered the reason for the appearance. Duran wasn't expecting him. That tone of surprise proved it.

"Got another job," Garth whispered, an attempt to keep the conversation between him and Duran.

"Already?" Duran said, somewhat bored with the prospect. He probably preferred to spend the credits he just earned at some high-end nightclub. "Let's discuss the assignment on our way."

"I can't go," Garth said and Obi-Wan saw his striped eyes look over at him. "Not yet."

A tingling sensation danced up Obi-Wan's finger, moving to his lightsaber. He pulled it out just in time for Garth to steal Duran's blaster and fire a bolt into Duran. A cry rang out, uncared by others, and Duran stumbled backwards into the side of the building. He fell down, hand clutching his lower abdomen.

"You shot me!" Duran roared at him between breaths.

Garth didn't even care. He took aim again, pointing the blaster at Duran's head. His eyes, however, were trained on Obi-Wan and his lit lightsaber. "Put your laser sword away, Jedi," he warned and he waved the blaster in Duran's direction. "Or Duran here won't be groaning anymore."

Obi-Wan took in Duran's pinched expression. As a Jedi, he's to not bring harm to others. But, even if he wasn't a Jedi, Obi-Wan wouldn't allow harm befall an innocent person. He wished Anakin was with him. Together, this situation wouldn't even give Obi-Wan pause. Garth would already be under arrest.

But, Anakin was not here. Only Obi-Wan and an overly-eager bounty hunter who is teasing the possibility of killing off his colleague. Obi-Wan knew what he had to do, but he did not like it. Not at all.

He extinguished his lightsaber.

Garth smiled, pleased. "Hand it over."

Begrudging, Obi-Wan surrendered his lightsaber.

The moment Garth curled his fingers around the metal cylinder, his smile widened. "Thank you."

And Obi-Wan knew he made a big mistake. Seconds after Garth clipped the lightsaber, Garth released multiple shots into Duran's chest. Duran didn't even get the chance to cry out as his body jerked at each blast that pounded into him. Then, he laid perfectly still. Dead.

Obi-Wan stared, horrified. He started to move on Garth, when the traitorous bounty hunter swung the blaster to him, aimed right above his heart. Obi-Wan froze, hands slightly lifted to his shoulders. It wasn't surprising to confront a traitor in these lower levels of the city. Bounty hunters were loyal to money. Not people or morals.

Very different from his philosophy.

Garth stepped over Duran's body. His eyes burned with the same eagerness he had when he first arrived. He wanted to complete the mission, which involved Obi-Wan somehow. Obi-Wan didn't move, but his fingers did drift to the hilt of his lightsaber. A twitch to ignite it.

All he felt was air.

Though he lost his lightsaber, he wasn't exactly weaponless. The Force still coursed through him like a constant river. He could easily knock Garth off his feet…

Garth's lips peeled back in a tight smile. "Don't even think about it," he commented. "I have a happy trigger."

Obi-Wan glanced to the lifeless body. "I noticed."

Garth half-heartily shrugged at Duran's corpse. "Business. Not all deals are win-win."

"Appears so," Obi-Wan said, turning back to Garth. "And what, exactly, is our business?"

He was curious by the bounty hunter's relaxed stance. The man shot his comrade, his leader, for a high-priced job. Yet, he had yet to act on the job itself. The blaster was carefully aimed at his heart. Any fidget or twitch, Garth would shoot him. But, why not shoot him now? Why was he making him wait for death?

Oh. Oh! Yes… that made quite a lot of sense. "You're working for Count Dooku."

Garth's smile widened. "You must be Kenobi," he said, acknowledging Obi-Wan with a proud satisfaction.

Obi-Wan only frowned at the recognition. "I see my reputation proceeds me."

"Not a reputation you want, I assure you."

"Depends on one's view," Obi-Wan simply stated. He glanced around, expectantly. "When does the honorable Count arrive?"

"He's been here all along."

Obi-Wan's muscles tightened at the sound of that silky, smooth voice that murmured behind him. He looked to Garth, whose eyes looked passed him, right behind his shoulder. The familiar Force presence snuck closer, like an oil spill that slowly contaminated everything in its path. Obi-Wan had the urge to sprint off, to flee before being touched. But, he remained still. Waiting…

When Dooku got close enough that his shadow stood right beside Obi-Wan's, the Jedi spoke. "Dooku."

It was not a friendly greeting. This was everything but friendly. If anything, his spat out his name like a curse rather than an acknowledgement of his appearance.

Dooku took it with mild annoyance. He locked his hands behind his back and circled out in front of Obi-Wan. He roamed his eyes over Obi-Wan, a smug of superiority reflecting in his dark pools. "Master Kenobi," he said, hair slicked and refined. The white platinum hair glistened in the patchy sunlight. "It appears the Force keeps pushing us together."

"Only to remind me what happens to those who fall astray."

Dooku's confidence wavered slightly, but he regained it. Back to his noble composure, he smirked in Obi-Wan's direction. "You and I both, it appears," he said, good-naturally which irked Obi-Wan more than it should. Then, Dooku's smile faltered and he became somber. "How is Qui-Gon doing?"

"Alive," Obi-Wan answered, "no thanks to you."

Obi-Wan swore he saw a flash of anger in the Count's eyes. His lips peeled to a near snarl before taking a deep breath to regain control. It surprised Obi-Wan that the Count cared to keep himself refined. It surprised him even more to know that his heart still kept beating.

Dooku turned away from Obi-Wan. "As you can see, I corrected that mistake."

Obi-Wan didn't need to follow Dooku's line of sight to know he was implying the dead changeling as the "mistake". "Killing will not solve anything," he said. "It certainly didn't help Qui-Gon recover."

"No—but justice was executed."

"You mean retribution."

A moment of silence passed between them. Dooku examined Obi-wan critically, like he always does when he comes across him. A mixture between fondness and frustration. Obi-Wan sensed the wave of strangling anger beneath Dooku's calm demeanor. The Count moved his hand to his cloak, adjust the hook so that it fit comfortably along his upper chest.

"We may have differing opinions on some matters, Obi-Wan," Dooku said, brushing a nonexistent wrinkled from his sleeves, "but we do have a lot in common. One in particular."

Dooku took a step, the gap between Obi-Wan and him diminishing. Obi-Wan again had the urge to step away from the creeping darkness that reached out to him. But, he stood his ground, unwilling to be intimidated.

Dooku now stood over him, leaning in so that their faces were only a few inches apart. His voice fell almost to a whisper. "We both care for Qui-Gon Jinn," he said then he stepped aside, slowly walking around Obi-Wan.

"You, of course, love him like a father," Dooku said and Obi-Wan opened his mouth to challenge the statement. A Jedi does not share those feelings. Share those relationships normal people have amongst others. There were no familial bonds…at least, that is what he was told.

Before a single word could escape, Dooku waved his hands dismissively. "No—you have no need to lie to me, Obi-Wan," he said, almost nonchalantly as if his statement was nonnegotiable. "I'm not a Jedi. You can be honest with me and in return, I'll be honest with you."

Dooku appeared again in Obi-Wan's line of vision. "I, too, care for the man as well," he confessed to Obi-Wan. "I taught him everything he knew. He was a good apprentice. A bit short-sighted and distractible, but Qui-Gon was nonetheless, a talented man."

"He refused to be ruled by others, choosing to think for himself and—to steal a line from him—follow the will of the Force," Dooku continued, making another lap around Obi-Wan. "He saw the same rotting foundations I saw in regards to the Republic and the Jedi Order. He knew of the faults of the Jedi Order and the Republic. He just chose to believe it could be fixed from within."

Obi-Wan heard Dooku sigh tiredly. "It is unfortunate that his plan failed," Dooku said as he once again reappeared before Obi-Wan. "The Republic. The Jedi Order. They all failed him."

"I doubt Qui-Gon would agree," Obi-Wan stated firmly. "A Sith killed Qui-Gon. Not the Republic and not the Order."

Dooku's eyes flared again. He rounded on Obi-Wan so quickly he thought Dooku finally acted on his main objective and killed him. But, Obi-Wan felt whole and his breaths came out through his somewhat parted lips. He was still alive, but he only wondered for how much longer.

Dooku's anger didn't reside, but Obi-Wan was once again surprised to discover the anger wasn't entirely directed at him. Rather at the Jedi Order itself. "If the Jedi Council were less arrogant and ignorant, they wouldn't have sent a single Master-Padawan to deal with the Naboo crisis," Dooku barely snarled. "Qui-Gon perished by their inaction. They costed you a Master and me a padawan."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything. Not because he agreed with Dooku's declaration. He did not. For years, Obi-Wan blamed himself for his Master's untimely death. If only he ran faster or stepped there, then Qui-Gon would be alive and well with them, training Anakin to become a Jedi Knight. But, after years of somewhat therapy with Yoda, he managed to let go of those feelings. It was not his fault his master died that day. It was not the Jedi Order's fault or Naboo's or Anakin's. It was the Sith. It was the Sith's double red lightsaber that plunged into Qui-Gon's chest, stealing his life. No one else.

Dooku released a heavy sigh. "You and I have both experienced a difficult loss," he said. "No one—not even the Jedi Council—will understand what we felt when Qui-Gon died."

Obi-Wan could argue that Anakin understood. The boy loved Qui-Gon just as much as Obi-Wan did. He admired the man greatly and seeing him now with a younger Qui-Gon proved how much Anakin desired the older Jedi Master to be happy and alive.

But, he wasn't going to say that to an unstable Sith Lord.

And Dooku was unstable. That much was clear when Dooku lifted his hand, lightly, and rested it on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan stared at it, disdainfully. He attempted to shake it off, but Dooku's grip tightened, holding Obi-Wan in place. A desperation, Obi-Wan thought. Some desire for connection.

"We can change it, Obi-Wan," Dooku's said, entreatingly. "Look where we are! We're in the past."

His grip became stronger. Obi-Wan felt the Count's fingers piercing into his shoulder blade. A dull pain aching underneath the pressured skin and muscles of his shoulder.

"You and I," Dooku said, urgently. "Together, we can change the fate of the one man we both love very much. Reshape the corrupted Republic and complacent Order. Free ourselves from all that pain and suffering...

"What do you say, Obi-Wan?" Dooku asked, his voice gentle and sincere. "Will you help me save Qui-Gon?"

The temptation was all right there. Again, in his younger years as a Knight, he envisioned what life may have been if Qui-Gon lived. He knew well enough that Qui-Gon would have taken Anakin as padawan and Obi-Wan would go out on solo missions, free from the burdens of raising a difficult child in the throngs of Temple life. He wondered if he would have been close to Qui-Gon or to Anakin. He wondered if the Clone Wars would have occurred or if Dooku would have fallen so far to the Sith. All these 'what ifs' haunted his waking moments until he heard Qui-Gon's voice whispering in his ear to focus on the present.

And, right now, Dooku wasn't offering heroism.

He was offering a downfall.

Obi-Wan removed the colorful wrapping Dooku presented and saw the foul darkness that laid behind those words. Obi-Wan looked squarely at Dooku. "My answer is the same as last," he said. "I will not join you."

The muscles in Dooku's face tense up again. Eyes burning like brimstone at the rejection and his fingers curled into Obi-Wan's shoulder like a claw. Obi-Wan did his best to withhold a small wince from his lips. He watched the transition before his eyes. Dooku no longer held any sincerity. Only a dark and pure form of anger showed as his lips curled into a snarl.

"Really Obi-Wan?" Dooku said, incredulous and yet, furious. "You would let your master die? Die to keep a corrupted government intact?"

Dooku was wrong. His answer had nothing to do with the Republic. "I'd rather he die a hero than be lured to the Dark Side."

And, with that, Dooku shifted. His hand slipped off Obi-Wan's shoulder, releasing the Jedi from its iron grip. Obi-Wan watched as Dooku's anger and desperation faded, replaced with an indifference and disappointment.

Dooku stepped away from Obi-Wan, head slightly tilted in recognition of the rejection. A single breath released. "I had high expectations from you, Obi-Wan," he said, steely. "After all, you are the padawan of my padawan. A legacy."

He ended the sentence with a softness of one who was regretful. That alarmed Obi-Wan. His eyes roamed over his surroundings, picking up everything he can, noticing every single detail. A whispering, drone sound filtered into his ears at a distance that signaled it was coming closer. Something was heading in their direction.

Coruscant's security!

Dooku merely glanced up to the approaching sounds of oncoming patrol. He was not unnerved. He simply looked back to Obi-Wan. "That is my signal to leave," he said quietly to Obi-Wan. "If only we met under different circumstances, we would not be enemies. But alas, it seems to not be our fate.

"You were a worthy adversary," Dooku confessed, a hint of some pride flitting in the words. "But, I will do what I must."

Dooku turned, flapping his cloak behind him as he strolled out to the exit of the alleyway. He stopped beside Garth. "Dispose of him," he murmured, "but still make him recognizable. Then dump the body at the Temple's steps."

Garth nodded, approving the instructions. "Of course, my lord."

Obi-Wan watched as Dooku dithered, almost tempted to look back at him. But, the Sith Lord reconsidered and followed through with his escape plan. He exited and took off on a hidden speeder, away from the upcoming triple homicide.

Garth sneered, twirling blaster in readiness. Obi-Wan watched the blaster flash in different, obnoxious moves that were futile. His show-off attitude did little to scare Obi-Wan. He fought and worked alongside Anakin. The king of swagger. A little spin of the blaster did nothing to jolt him into fear.

But it did remind Obi-Wan that time was running out for him. He needed to think. Again, he scanned his surroundings quickly, cataloguing all that was around him. He reached out to the Force, its presence caressing him to know it's with him.

Garth marched forward, a glint shining in his eyes. Now was the time. Obi-Wan prepared himself. He waited until Garth got closer.

As soon as Garth was a few feet away and cocked his blaster to shoot, Obi-Wan sprang into action.

The first fire missed. The Force rang out a warning and Obi-Wan duck just as the bolt flew overhead. Still recalling his training, Obi-Wan kicked out, landing a hard knock into Garth's stomach. He heard the bounty hunter grunt and wheeze from the impact, giving Obi-Wan enough time to reach with the Force and throw the bounty hunter aside.

Spit spewed from the bounty hunter's face as he crashed into the wall. Garth tried to pull up to his feet to fight back, but he kept tipping over, dizzy from hitting his head. Obi-Wan didn't care to watch anymore. With the bounty hunter distracted, Obi-Wan stretched out his hand, using the Force to call for his lightsaber. The blade flew from Garth's belt and into Obi-Wan's hand.

Feeling the cool metal against his hand made Obi-Wan smile. Life returned to him. "Sorry," he said to Garth as the bounty hunter tried to regain his focus. "I have to run."

Obi-Wan took off, sprinting out of the alleyway just as the Coruscant's security landed down in the street, the dwellers all fleeing to run from the police force. Obi-Wan threw up his hood and blended with the crowd.

He needed to return to the Temple. Now.