Chapter 36: History

The first time Quinlan Vos had touched Obi-Wan's lightsaber was after the Battle of Naboo. The vision was so hazy, so unfocused, so saturated in pain and hate that the Jedi could see nothing of significance. When he had sat down with Yoda the day before to touch it for the second time, the feelings were so dark, so intense, that the Kiffar had to let go, and he nearly retched from the overwhelming sensations. Yoda was with him, though, and they slowly began picking through the weapon in small stages at a time. Things were hazy still, clouded by a mire of emotional upheaval, but Vos was beginning to get a picture of what had happened to his friend. Much he already knew from the many conversations they had on the subject, but now, coupled with the emotions attached, it was easy to see exactly how it happened.

They hadn't been at work for very long when Master Yoda was called away to see the Chancellor, the Senate in an upheaval about renewed Separatists assaults all over the galaxy, and one of particular ferocity out on Haruun Kal headed by the cyborg Grievous, the General of the mighty droid army of the Confederacy. The Master didn't return, which led Quinlan Vos to now, alone in his room, and holding Obi-Wan's weapon in his Force sensitive hands. He had a good feeling about today. The Force felt strong, clear, and if he was going to get to the bottom of this, it was going to be now. He closed his eyes, the rush of the Force running through him as he grasped the weapon, its history playing out in his mind like a memory.

At first, it was as it had been before. It was hazy, clouded, and he could see little beyond hurt and anger and betrayal. The Jedi growled in frustration, trying to press forward, but only finding the fog thicker, harder to see through than before. He was getting nowhere. With a heavy sigh, he relaxed, and though of his friend. How he had been as a youngling, quiet and curious and so often trying to keep to himself. He was always intelligent, always thoughtful, always mindful of his peers and elders, and so unlike Vos, who had been loud and brash and raucous. He remembered that as an initiate, Kenobi took an interest in mechanics, his desire to become a pilot nearly eclipsing his desire to be a Jedi Knight, for a short time. His own modest appraisal of his skills had left him feeling inadequate when compared to his peers, though he had much to be proud of. And than as a Padawan, Kenobi had become cocky and headstrong, as so many Padawans did, the path before him cleared by the Master that took him under his wing, and he threw himself into his studies with a reckless abandon.

Quinlan smiled, his emotional ties to his friend still strong, despite the time that had passed, despite the years the Kiffar believed him to be dead, despite the fact that Kenobi had fallen to the Dark Side and joined the Sith. They had been so close once that Quinlan thought that a Force bond may have existed between them. So much so, that even when he had seen him on Christophsis, the Dark Side surging around the fallen Jedi, Master Vos felt a connection between them. It was like Obi-Wan had never left. He...missed him. He knew it was dangerous to tap into his own emotions, especially when he was utilizing psychometry. His own thoughts and feelings could be influenced by what he was seeing, and it could make him attached to an event he had no business attaching himself to. But as he thought of his friend, as he was stirred to missing the man he had come to see as his closest brother, the fog began to clear, the visions coming to him vibrant and focused. His emotional connection to Obi-Wan was giving him insight, and Quinlan was not the sort of Jedi to pass up an opportunity. With a deep breath, his connection to Kenobi in hand, he dove in to the history of the fallen Jedi's lightsaber.

It was the same weapon he had first crafted when he was taken as a Padawan, and Quinlan could see flashes of his early training, brief visions of the mission to Mandalore, a hint of the deep love for the Duchess he guarded, and the difficulty ha had in leaving her behind when the Council called him elsewhere. There were fights with his Master, deep frustrations with Qui-Gon's almost petulant reluctance to follow the Code, but under it all was a deep respect for the man that trained him, a vibrant, almost beautiful connection between the two that made Quinlan fill with sadness in the knowledge that such a perfect attachment was ruined. Through it all, though, Quinlan felt nothing that even hinted at the Dark Side. The young Kenobi was studious and steadfast, kind and understanding, the very model of a Jedi, despite his own doubts about his skill.

And then Anakin entered the picture, and everything changed.

The change in his friend was sudden and violent, and Quinlan could feel the cold gripping him tightly, the lightsaber shaking in his hands as he shivered. Vos watched as the images played out before him, Padawan Kenobi's unease with the boy, his uncertainly with his Master's decisions, the Force running cold in the young man's body that left him shaken and afraid and feeling as though he had nowhere to turn. The most vivid vision, though, was of Qui-Gon, Anakin and Obi-Wan, standing off to the side and watching in horror as his Master abandoned him for young Skywalker. His training had not been completed, and the Padawan struggled with a chill in the Force that both he and his Master correctly believed to be the Sith, and now, the cold erupted around him, surrounding the young, lost man and leaving him broken, afraid, and alone. The Council had denied Qui-Gon, of course, but the damage had been done, and Quinlan couldn't help but believe that the cold Kenobi had felt wasn't just him sensing the Sith he would fight, but the Sith he would become.

The next vision was more vibrant than the last, the weapon in his hand having been actively used in the event, and Quinlan doubled over in pain. He had seen this scene hundreds of times before. The ferocious fight against the Sith Lord that granted Kenobi his knighthood, but now, connected to Obi-Wan, he saw it in a different light. The Masters that knighted him were correct with him being one with the Force that day, but they had been wrong about to side that Kenobi had stood on. On that day, in that moment, Obi-Wan had recognized the Dark Side and willingly embraced it, allowing it to fuel his rage and his fury and bring him victory over a foe that, by all rights, should have easily killed him. The rest was inconsequential. On that day, Obi-Wan Kenobi fell.

The rest of the visions were a fast, confusing blur of hatred and rage and betrayal, all at the hands of the Jedi Council. Quinlan grit his teeth against the cold and the pain and pushed through, taking in the details of his first visit to Dathomir, where he first allowed himself to surrender to the Dark Side, his blue eyes beginning to show the first signs of changing to the glowing, Sith yellow. The Kiffar saw their own missions out in Sith Space, felt the Dark Side thriving and alive on Athiss when Kenobi had exerted domination on the twisted creatures they found inside the tomb, felt bloodlust and cruelty driving him on Dromund Kaas, saw the torture of Nute Gunray on Cato Neimoidia, along with dozens of times when he had practiced his growing powers on hapless innocents. And at the end, the visions clouded, and Quinlan felt only pain and uncontrollable anger in the fight against Dooku that the Jedi knew his friend had lost.

He couldn't let go of the weapon. Over and over again, he ran through the visions, looking for new things, feeling his own anger grow, the Force within him running cold with the Dark Side. What happened to Obi-Wan was...cruel. Unfair. Unworthy of his kind and gentle friend, and it was the Jedi that had done it to him. Quinlan felt his hand tighten around the weapon. Obi-Wan had been scared and alone for years before he left, long after he fell, and there was no saving him. By the time of their mission, there was nothing Quinlan could have done to help him, but the Council could have. Any of them could have. They had failed him by not being able to sense the darkness within him, but...why. Why hadn't they been able to see it? Obi-Wan was good, but he wasn't that good. Hiding from the likes of Yoda wasn't possible, but somehow, Kenobi had done it. Hell, the entire Sith Order had done it for the duration of their thousand year absence, apparently. So much for Jedi insight, if they couldn't detect the pain and suffering of a Padawan right under their noses, what chance did they have against a true Sith Lord?

He had to get rid of it. The weapon in his hands was too much. He could feel the Dark Side, really feel it, and it had seeped inside him, sneaking tendrils of darkness flowing through the very Force itself, and Quinlan had to get away before it consumed him. Mustering up as much strength as he could, he threw the weapon aside with a groan, his strong fingers only just barely coaxed into letting go, as if his body wanted to keep the weapon, hold it close as it craved the darkness of the man that once used it. The Kiffar panted from the effort, his mind feeling tired and strained, and he absently rubbed at the scars on his arms. This was why Yoda had wanted to be there when he accessed the weapon's history. There was a reason that reading weapons was, for the most part, off-limits. They were often soaked with hatred and pain and negative emotions that could seep into the Jedi and lead them down a dangerous path.

Quinlan felt...sympathy. Great sadness for his fallen friend. He understood his plight, why he fell, how he fell, and he couldn't blame him for what had happened. It seemed almost...pre-ordained, like Kenobi was never meant for the light, and Quinlan couldn't help but feel that this may have been the will of the Force. The chill Obi-Wan had felt before his fall could have been the Sith Lord Maul, but it could just as easily have been the Force pushing the Padawan to the Dark Side, a vision of what was to come, of what he would be, and...well, Master Vos couldn't blame him for any of that. The path Kenobi walked may have been the will of the Force, and he may have had a part to play in all this. But still, the Dark Side burned, and the Kiffar felt it deeply, focusing on driving it from his being as he had done many times before. This time, though, it was...deeper.

Ahsoka barged into the room, breathing deep and hard and she threw herself on the Master, the Kiffar knocked to the ground as his Padawan barreled into him. "Master Vos!" she cried, blue eyes wide and frantic, and Vos sighed, staring at the girl out of the corner of his eye.

"You could knock, Snips." The Kiffar's face lit up in delight. "Kriff, I sound like Obi-Wan."

"Master, if you start calling me Snips too, I may lose my mind." She grabbed the Kiffar by his broad shoulders. "What happened! I felt your distress through the Force!"

Quinlan pointed to the lightsaber on the other side of the room. "I was working."

She looked at the lightsaber in the corner, squinting as she took it in, than gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Master! You weren't supposed to do that alone, Master Yoda said-"

"I know what he said, but I needed to know!" Ahsoka sat cross-legged before the Kiffar, her arms crossed and her mouth pursed petulantly. "If it makes you feel any better, I did learn something this time. I know how he fell."

"Does it even matter?"

"...I don't know. It might not." He shrugged. "It's good to know, in any case. He was my friend, and knowing what happened was important to me." Ahsoka's face remained impassive, and the Kiffar sighed. "Yes, what is it?"

"I felt the Dark Side, Master! From you. Through our connection. The Masters all said to be mindful of the Dark Side in the coming war, they said that we'd always work in groups so we could keep each other strong, and here you are! Working alone! Again!"

"I've always preferred to work alone!"

"Than why did you take a Padawan!"

He kissed the top of her striped, domed head. "Because you're just so adorable!" Quinlan sighed when the girl's expression did not change. "Yoda left this morning for the war. He wants to see if he can intercept Obi-Wan himself. Most of us are still here, but..." Vos shook his head. "It isn't good, Ahsoka. Their faith has been shaken. The Jedi are seeing Sith everywhere."

"Everyone's just scared, Master..."

"I know, and it's poisoning us. If this was Kenobi's intent, than he's doing a damn good job of it. Master Koth was only the beginning, and Anakin says that there's Sith influence in the Senate as well."

Ahsoka smirked at that. "Isn't he just trying to cover up the mess he made? I mean, 'the Sith made me do it' is the favorite excuse of the Padawans right now." Quinlan laughed loudly.

"I wish I had that excuse when I was a Padawan. I would have gotten away with so much." He smiled softly. "No, it's not just an excuse. I don't think it is, in any case. Obi-Wan believed similar before he left the Jedi, and even when he was running on the Dark Side, he was harnessing it against the Sith for a time."

"...can someone do that?" the Togruta asked. "Can a Jedi use the Dark Side and still be called a Jedi?"

"I don't know, Ahsoka. I thought I knew before, but..." He sighed. "On Dromund Kass, Obi-Wan had insisted that the Dark Side could be used safely, so long as it wasn't used out of anger, but he was long gone by then. Maybe it is possible, but I don't want to be the one to test it. I walk far enough in the shadows as it is."

"...the other Jedi look at me. Everywhere they go, I can feel them watching me." Ahsoka frowned, drawing her legs against her body and wrapping her thin arms around them. "I heard them talking. They think I've been influenced by Obi-Wan. Anakin too, he's been inside both our heads. They don't trust us..."

"They don't trust me either."

"They must, or you wouldn't have been elected to the Council."

"I'm still sure that's a joke," the Kiffar drawled. "And if the elections were held after Master Koth came back to us, they never would have chosen me. Kenobi broke through my defenses as well." He sighed. "But you're right. There's a lot of suspicion right not, and it's not just the two of you. It's everyone. Nobody knows how Obi-Wan's powers work, or the limits of what he can do. And worse, they Jedi don't trust their leaders. Master Yoda is the one that cleared Koth, and he was ultimately a puppet of the Sith. A lot of Jedi are beginning to believe that the Force has left us."

"...did we do all that training for nothing, Master?"

"Well, we didn't," he smirked. "We learned something. Many of us learned something." Nodding, his chest puffing with confidence, he laid a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "As a group, we are better prepared. Not everyone is suspicious, Padawan, and when the real fighting starts, the Jedi will know what they must do."

"But will they do it?" Quinlan was silent for a while, his eyes closed as he thought.

"I don't know, Ahsoka," the Master finally said. "My talent was never in seeing the future, but in getting clarity from the past. It's...not the greatest power, perhaps, certainly not as flashy as visions of the future, but it's more reliable." He reached out his hand, calling through the Force to Obi-Wan's lightsaber, the weapon flying to his outstretched palm. "The past I just witnessed was rife with pain and loneliness that no Jedi should ever have to face. Fear and anger and suspicion lead to the Dark Side, as do any of the other negative emotions that cause someone to lose faith and trust in others. That's always where the Jedi have been strong. You know that." She nodded. "The others will remember. They have to if they want to live through this."

"You should call the Council to order to reveal your findings."

Quinlan scoffed. "I can't do that."

"Yes you can, you're on the Council." The Kiffar waved her off, but she could see the handsome face set in determination. "Will we be rejoining the war as well?"

Vos laughed. "Yes, but on Qui-Gon's ship. They haven't assigned me a new one yet, and, uh...my new clone battalion isn't ready to be deployed yet."

"The Senate says your clones were a bad batch, but I liked Cody!"

Quinlan nodded. "I did too. They weren't a bad batch, they just...met with the wrong man. There's no question that Obi-Wan took my ship, he was always taking my things." Ahsoka looked at her Master with a look that said, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't believe him. "...alright, not always. But he once stole a girl I wanted!" That look again. "...by accident. Look, the point is, Obi-Wan Kenobi took my ship!"

"I don't mind working with Master Qui-Gon." She shrugged. "And Skyguy is alright. I guess." The Kiffar rose to his feet and began gathering his things, kicking piles of clothing from corners towards his bed and picking them up and unceremoniously stuffing them into a bag. "Master?"

"Hmm?"

"How are the Jedi supposed to fight if they can't trust Master Yoda?" The Kiffar stilled and dropped his bag. He didn't turn to face Ahsoka, opting instead to look into a corner as he thought. It was bad enough that he could feel those big blue eyes on him, he didn't need to see them too.

"...a lot of Jedi are going to die, Ahsoka. A lot of Jedi have died already, and the war has barely started. Yoda has been a thorn in Obi-Wan's side for a long time now. I imagine that the whole nasty business with Master Koth was done in part to point out how clueless even the best of us are. And Obi-Wan has always been very convincing, even before he was called the Negotiator."

"So he did this to shake our faith?"

"I'm certain that was part of it. If we lose our faith in the Force, than we become easy prey for the Dark Side, and we know he wants that. He's reluctant to kill us because he wants us to fall, that much is obvious."

"Why can't the others see that?"

"...they will, Ahsoka," Quinlan said somberly. "They will, or they'll fall." He offered her his hand, and she took it, the Master pulling Ahsoka to her feet. "Come on. We have an assembly to call. We'll see if we can't get those idiots to calm down and see reason. The Force hasn't been extinguished yet."

Jedi Master Depa Billaba stood on the bridge of the Alliance, the massive Star Destroyer's engines humming as it sailed through hyperspace. She had never been one for violence, desiring instead to talk problems over instead of finding solutions at the end of a lightsaber, as her former Master, Mace Windu, preferred. However, she could fight, and fight well, and the Jedi Council considered her one of the three Jedi in history to be able to master the difficult and dangerous lightsaber form Vapaad, though she always found herself falling back on Soresu when things got rough. Especially in these dark times, she recognized the dangers of dancing close to the Dark Side to make Vaapad effective. She hoped Master Windu recognized the danger as well.

The death of her sister, Sar Labooda, over six years ago had marked her, and when the war began at the behest of the Sith Lord Count Dooku, the man that had allegedly killed her sister and maimed her body, she gave up her seat on the Council so she may see to it personally that the former Jedi was brought to justice. She didn't seek revenge. Depa was considered wise and spiritual, something that was common among the Chalactan people, humans that developed a unique culture and heritage on the isolated Mid Rim world. But she did seek justice, and the atrocities that occurred that day on Serenno had gone unpunished for long enough.

She felt Mace approach from behind her before she saw him or heard him, and she closed her eyes, smiling. "Are you eager to return to your home world, Master Windu?"

"Not particularly," he said softly, standing beside his former Padawan. "I don't remember it."

"What do we know of the situation?"

"Our army has been fighting in the sector to hunt down the Confederacy General, Grievous. They've been so far unsuccessful in capturing or killing him, and now he's on Haruun Kal on the orders of Dooku to bring the planet under Separatist control."

"I take it the natives don't approve of that," she said softly, smiling. The humans that called Haruun Kal home were all Force sensitive, a phenomenon that the Jedi Council had struggled to explain for hundreds of years to no avail. Some said that in the days of the old Republic, a Jedi cruiser had crashed on the planet, leaving the Jedi behind with no way of contacting Coruscant or leaving the primitive world. One thing led to another, and the next generation saw a host of Force sensitive children spawned from the coupling of the Jedi and the native population. It was as good a story as any, at the very least.

"The natives don't approve, no, but the planet's immigrants do. The world is split on the matter of the war, and Grievous is there to fight for control."

"It sounds to me like we're getting involved in a local affair," Depa said, looking out at the blue and white of hyperspace.

"This seems to be what the Separatists are doing. They're igniting local conflicts and using pre-existing disagreements to have a reason to invade planets."

"We'll stop them, Mace.."

"I know we will."

Depa looked at him, her dark eyes concerned. "We must be prepared for anything. If Obi-Wan is there-"

"I'll deal with Obi-Wan. I hear he doesn't like to fight."

"I hear that's a dangerous assumption."

"I've always been a better duelist than him."

"Beware of overconfidence, Mace," she warned, turning to look at the clones hard at work on the bridge. "Thousands of lives depend on our success. We can't afford to make mistakes."

The other Master nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Grievous is going to be challenge enough. He's killed four Jedi already, and it was a five on one battle. He's not to be underestimated. We'll need strong plan if we're going to win."

"We don't need to win, we just need to fight. Getting the Separatists to retreat is good enough."

Mace looked at the Jedi, eyebrow raised. "The war cannot end if their leaders are simply allowed to escape, Depa."

"I know." She indicated back at the clones. "They depend on us. The innocent on the planet depend on us. Saving lives is more important than victory."

"They're the same thing."

"Not always." The ship lurched as they reverted to sublight, the streaks of blue and white fading as the stars came back into view, and the planet Haruun Kal hung in space before them, a beautiful lush green that indicated a heavily forested world. And just above the planet, as if ready on command to duck behind the planet's orbit, were three massive ships, two which they recognized instantly as General Grievous' Malevolence and Obi-Wan Kenobi's Negotiator. The third they recognized as a Republic Venator-class Star Destroyer that was painted in sinister black and red, and the Jedi both sucked in a tense, nervous breath. It was the missing Dauntless. They were sure of it. They could feel it in the Force.

The lights flashed on the communications console, and the clone sitting in the seat swiftly called out, "Generals. The Separatist fleet is trying to contact us."

Mace nodded. "Put them through."

They turned to face the holotable, the device lighting up as the hologram came to life, and their eyes widened in shock to see the face of a clone, not a droid, staring back at them. He grinned. "Greetings, Jedi. Master Kenobi welcomes you to his planet."

"His planet?!"Mace growled, fist clenching at his side, but the clone simply nodded.

"The fleet has been ordered not to fire on you. Master Kenobi doesn't want you delayed any longer than necessary." The clone smirked. "He says you're late enough as it is."