On the way back to the temple, Satine stayed close to Obi-wan, who, in turn, was determined not to have a repeat of last week's debacle. Because of this, the second trip went much faster. Obi-wan's presence, friendly or not, acted like a talisman, keeping Maul's illusion away.

The two spoke little in the cab ride, and with each minute, Obi-wan's mask of indifference was shoved back on. Satine tried not to mind, there wasn't anything she could do about it. She certainly couldn't make him chose between his Jedi mantle and their friendship.

So, she merely stared out the window and, every now and then, stole peeks at Obi-wan. He did the same. Once, their eyes met awkwardly and both looked hastily away. Each blushed, but said nothing. Moments later, they were clambering out the door of the cab and starting the journey toward the Council chambers, walking together.

Before she knew it, she was standing before the threatening doorway at the top of the Jedi Temple, expecting to go through the ringer like before. Obi-wan remained dutifully by her side and, this time, went in with her. A swell of relief about this eased much of the nervousness.

Even more surprising was the fact that only Masters Yoda and Windu sat waiting for her arrival. Perhaps this wouldn't be so terrible, after all.

Obi-wan, on the other hand, was not so optimistic. Immediately upon entering, he sensed there was an unspoken time-bomb ticking in the room, one that would soon be set off by the stoic Masters. He saw in their eyes a hint of heaviness that had not been present earlier. In their feelings, there was a whiff of reluctance.

A steady drum of trepidation started beating in Obi-wan's chest.

"I hope you are doing well today, Duchess," Windu began honorably. "It has been too long."

"Indeed, Master Windu," she said meekly with a small bow of her head.

She still wore the clothes that she had dressed in earlier today. They had not had the time to stop by her rooms, but it didn't bother her to be in something comfortable. It made the whole ordeal far more casual, even though the subject matter was heavy.

"Get to the heart of the matter, we shall," Yoda cut in, his aged eyes sparkling peculiarly. "Ready, are you?"

Unsurprised by the little, green creature's intensity, Satine nodded and characteristically dug her nails into her palm, fists at her hips. Obi-wan kept his face religiously forward.

"You should know that we are still not in complete agreement," Windu warned. "Many on the Council do not hold the same…fervor for this matter."

He paused and stole a glance at Obi-wan, hinting.

"Nevertheless, we are all greatly concerned about the Sith," he continued. "And what he was able to accomplish on Mandalore in such a short amount of time. It does not bode well for the safety of the galaxy when one of its members is so easily taken over by darkness, especially in this precarious moment."

Satine waited for the judgment to come. The Master seemed to be beating around the bush, reluctant to say what they all feared. Windu's stone face cringed in distaste for the situation. He may have appeared unfeeling, but he received no pleasure from giving bad news.

"Because of this, it is in this council's opinion that we must do whatever we can to stop the Sith from gaining any more footholds," he declared, his dark eyes boring into Satine's. "We must take proactive measures."

The drum in Obi-wan's torso increased its tempo. He began to see in tunnel vision. Satine did not like the sound of 'proactive' either. A drop of blood slipped down to the marble, out of her palm.

"What does that mean?" Obi-wan asked in a rush, entering the conversation.

He raised a brow at the other Jedi, his stormy eyes flicking between the two of them.

His eagerness was not lost on Yoda, who peered at Obi-wan with increasing scrutiny; however, he remained expectedly silent. Windu switched his gaze to Kenobi.

"We would like to see just how far the Sith was able to connect with the Duchess. We would like to perform a meld."

Obi-wan growled his displeasure. Satine stood oblivious, a question on her countenance.

"Absolutely not!" Obi-wan snarled, heat rising in his face. "She's no Jedi! She doesn't have the strength for it! It will kill her!"

Although she had no idea what he was speaking of, Satine nevertheless felt a pang of resentment. Who was he to say she wasn't strong enough? Whatever it was, it certainly couldn't have been worse than what she had already faced.

"Aware of the risks, we are," Yoda intruded.

His voice was remarkably calm—an unmovable object in a tempest.

Obi-wan kept his focus on Windu.

"So we've come to this?" he barked at the man. "Putting innocents in danger and for what? Information? We already know what happened! We already know that the Dark Side is mobilizing. We should be out there looking for the other Sith Lord! Not putting Satine through more hell!"

But Windu merely exhaled profoundly. These moments were never easy, even when his Jedi brethren were involved. In fact, it always seemed to be more difficult when his colleagues became invested. Obi-wan especially.

"We have already discussed this," he stated matter-of-factly. "We don't have the manpower to go on a goose chase and fight a war. And don't talk about innocent lives, Kenobi. It would put more in danger if we did what you wanted. No, we have to work with what we have, unfortunate as it appears. Plus, I don't think you give the Duchess enough credit. She has shown remarkable will—"

"She was trying to survive!" Obi-wan cut him off. "And she barely made it out of there as it is! What you're suggesting is—"

"Obi-wan, stop."

Satine stepped regally forward and put a calming hand on his shoulder. He did not attempt to shake it off, remaining deathly still. All three pairs of eyes fell on her.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked quietly, not taking her gaze off of the Knight.

Thunderstruck, Obi-wan's mouth parted open in disbelief. His words lodged in his throat.

"Nothing," Yoda informed lightly with a rumbling giggle.

Satine gave him a puzzled, withering stare.

"What he means," Windu explained with a tight grimace. "Is that we would like to search your mind and see if the Sith's presence is still active. All you would need to do is give us your consent to do so."

"Well that doesn't sound so bad," she said, a tad underwhelmed.

At this, Obi-wan couldn't take it anymore and strode across the room, away from the Duchess. Satine watched as he began pacing, wanting to leave but unable to.

"What they're leaving out is that they would be trying to access the connection between Maul and you," Obi-wan informed them from behind, glaring at the ground as he marched back and forth, back and forth. "A connection protected and created by the Dark Side. If Maul sensed our presence, he would terminate the link without hesitation."

"I still don't see the problem," Satine admitted. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Obi-wan's face tightened. He stopped his mad pace and stood looking somberly out the window, arms crossed, a hand lodged in his beard. The Duchess turned to the others.

"It's an imperfect science," Windu explained vaguely, to which the Knight scoffed. "There can be complications."

"It's a bit more than imperfect," Obi-wan revealed, returning to Satine's side. "And the 'complication' you're speaking of is death, Master."

"That rarely happens…" Windu tried to defend.

"And there's never been a Sith involved," Obi-wan retorted. "If Maul thinks there's an opportunity to tie a loose end, he'll do it! You can't possibly think he'll let you read his thoughts without a fight."

"Wait, what? Read his thoughts?" Satine asked, eyes wide.

"Yes! Now you see?" Obi-wan suddenly cried, enthused by her shock. "They want Maul and they want to use you to get to him."

Windu's glare deepened, but he did nothing to defend himself further. Yoda's eyes flickered quickly and silently from Obi-wan to Satine and back again, attuning. The Masters' lack of response confirmed Obi-wan's accusation.

Satine stared at her shoes.

"Oh," was all she said.

The small moment of triumph experienced by Obi-wan was brought crashing down by her lack of astonishment at the revelation.

"Oh?" he sputtered, turning toward her. "You're not still considering this are you?"

Sheepishly, she returned his hardened gaze.

"There doesn't seem to be another way," she whispered sadly. "I can't let any more people get hurt because of me."

"Of course there's another way!" Kenobi deflected, throwing his hands in the air. "We could stop twiddling our thumbs and actually look for the Sith instead of putting our hopes on a theory."

"Let us know how that works out for you," Windu said sarcastically in the background.

Obi-wan ignored him and tried another track. He was unraveling.

"Please, Satine!" he pleaded, utilizing all of his persuasive tactics. "Don't make a decision just yet. Wait a day! Just one day, that's all I ask! Then, if you still want to do this, I won't stop you."

The new threat on Satine's life was melting his attempts at remaining indifferent. His mask, which was already crumbling, became a flimsy semblance, see-through and fake. It shattered and revealed his obvious attachment to his Masters, the last people he had wanted to expose it to. Anakin had warned him over and over, made him promise to try and stay away, to let Satine go, and Obi-wan had tried, he had tried furiously to dislodge himself from her.

Whenever he saw her in these last days, he never got within a foot, never looked at her for too long, never said more than he had to. He treated her like a parasite.

It had been like keeping a palm on a hot stove, it had made him despise himself, but he had done it. Every night he went to bed sick with worry for her and every morning he woke up waspish and infuriated. It felt like he was losing control rather than gaining it.

Now, however, he could not stand the pressure. Anakin's warning voice flew out of his head.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, her long, iridescent blonde hair tickled his gloved knuckles. Satine did not seem convinced by his words, but he couldn't lose her, couldn't bear to put her in any more danger, to give her any more scars.

"Satine," he begged, staring at her with wide, humbled eyes. "Don't do this."

As desperately as she wanted to believe Obi-wan now, and as fiercely as she desired to follow his lead wherever he wanted to go, she knew in her gut that he was wrong. His options would lead to nothing but frustration and obsession. Satine knew if he was let loose, Obi-wan would never stop looking for Maul. The hunt would consume him, drive him mad, she was sure.

Plus, Obi-wan had said it himself. Maul was an expert on avoiding detection—hiding in holes in the ground, under rocks, in between cracks. If he wanted to stay hidden, he would, and the possibility of finding and stopping more like Maul vanished along with him. The link that might have existed in her head could flush him out like the insect he was.

She would not allow Maul to steal Obi-wan away from her, not again.

So, going against every instinct, against every desire to appease him, Satine turned away.

"I'm sorry, Obi," she whispered, clutching his hand on her shoulder.

Then, she straightened, raised her chin, and stared at a space between Windu and Yoda.

"I'll do it."

Brokenhearted by her words, emptied, Obi-wan pulled away and walked, staggering, to the door. Satine did not turn around, but heard the panels as they swooshed and clicked, sealing her fate.