"You wanted to see me, Senator?" I strode into Palpatine's office, working hard to keep my mind in the present when it had a dozen places it would rather be.

"Yes, mister Kenobi. Thank you for joining me; please have a seat."

I eased lightly onto the edge of one of the chairs facing Palpatine's small desk, ornately angular in the Nabooan style. I was emotionally exhausted from my interrogation by the Jedi Council, and it was difficult for me to open myself up enough to feel his calm concern.

"I was informed that the committee was attacked by an unknown assailant on Malastare, and one Jedi guard was the only survivor. Is that true?" He wrung his hands together as he looked to me, silently hoping I would contradict his account.

"That is true," I related gravely. "A Padawan learner was deliberately left alive to inform the Jedi of what had happened. It was a Sith assassin."

"Are you certain?" I could feel the fear and confusion from him strongly. "The last Sith was defeated a thousand years ago, were they not?"

"It would appear they were not." I thought about Siri, alone on the Republic diplomatic transport with a hired crew and her nightmares. If I opened myself fully, I knew that I would still sense her grief: a hot brand too far away to sear, but close and bright enough to leave an afterimage. "Was that what you needed, Senator? I'm sorry, but I can confirm your reports are accurate." I made to stand.

Palpatine frowned, and I could feel the compassion coming out from him toward me. He raised a hand and gestured for me to keep my seat. "I wanted to privately discuss with you the outcome of the day's deliberation in the Senate. This is most unfortunate." His eyes lowered to his desk, checking over notes on a console. "We managed to get the Trade Federation to commit that staggering surety, and to tie liability for the intervention to the source of the incident. But we agreed to defer the intervention vote until after the commission report." He looked up at me defensively as I frowned. "We thought it was a coup for us; the Trade Federation was expecting that forming and sending the commission would take weeks, while we knew that the delegates would be back with their report by this time tomorrow."

"Only now," I restated the obvious, "the report isn't coming. At all."

"... and so I fear that the Queen will be returning to Naboo, intending to take matters into her own hands."

I nodded; this was a scenario I was already quite familiar with. "Thank you for informing me, sir."

"Obi-wan," he leaned forward, earnest. "I beg you, if Padme returns to Naboo, don't let her return alone. She is in grave danger." The fear that I sensed from him had Padme firmly in the center. He had concern for his people, surely, but moreso for the newly-elected queen that I could tell he already considered a friend. I did, too, for that matter.

I stood. "Senator, you can be assured that Padme Amidala's safety is a priority."

The old man stood, too, and came around his desk to shake my hand. He placed his left hand on my shoulder at the same time, suggesting if not quite completing a hug. "Thank you, my young friend. And thank you for lending your talents to matters of state as well. So many young Jedi consider it beneath them."

I nodded. "How goes preparations for the 'house cleaning'?" Another matter I had brought to Sheev for help, and one he had taken to just as enthusiastically.

"Nearly there. It may be done by the time you return from Naboo." There was an unsaid "if" in there, and I appreciated that he didn't say it.

I thanked him, and left to make other preparations.

The tangle of shadowy contacts and seedy bars that made up the next three hours of my life did nothing to help my mounting mental exhaustion. By the time I returned to my chambers in the temple, I hardly managed ten minutes of meditation before I was sound asleep.

"Your slovenly habits reflect poorly on me, Padawan." I opened an eye to the morning and my Jedi Master, who leaned against the doorway to my chambers wearing his enigmatic half-smile.

I looked down at my pallet, realizing I hadn't removed my boots before collapsing from meditation into bed the night before. "Sorry, Master. Yesterday was a long day."

"Hungover?" he asked, only half-serious, and accepted my confused denial. "You spent yesterday evening moving around the… less savory... sectors of Coruscant. I will admit, I had thought if you wanted to go carousing you'd choose an evening in with Miss Skywalker."

My Master followed me as I stripped and headed down the hall to get a shower. "Making preparations, Master. Now that we know who our enemy is -"

"We know what our enemy's weapon looks like. We still have no idea who our enemy is." From the echoing sound of his voice, he at least was doing me the courtesy of staying around the corner from the shower chamber itself.

"That is an interesting perspective." I raised my voice to make sure I would be heard over the water. "If my Master were here, though, I'm sure he'd point out that no life is a means to an end; each must be regarded as an end in itself."

"And if my student were here, he would point out the difference between our own beliefs, and understanding the beliefs of our adversaries," he replied softly. How could I always hear him, even over other sounds, and he never seemed to be yelling or even speaking louder? A useful Force trick, if that's what it was.

I wrung the water out of my braid as I moved back to my room. "A wise student," I shot. "But, yes, I was making plans and spending money with morally questionable and socially undesirable individuals. After my grilling at the hands of the Council, it was a far less dangerous use of my time."

"You're not going to share the details?"

As I fastened some of my supplies in extra pockets and pouches in my clean robes, I looked up to see the dour expression on his face. I sat down and focused on him. "Master, in this case, I am trying to forget the details. Or at least keep them out of the forefront of my mind." I waited for his response, but he gave me a look at invited me to explain. "Very few individuals knew about the Naboo investigation committee, and yet, Darth Maul found them on Malastare during the one window they were most vulnerable to attack."

"You have been saying for some time that the Sith must have information sources in the Senate," Qui-Gon pointed out. Any number of Valorum's aides knew, and those of the other Senators you brought in to help. Not to mention Jedi functionaries arranging details with Adi -"

Qui-Gon cut himself off as he sensed my pain and guilt at the name. Compassion poured out toward me in a flood; I closed myself to it.

"Any number of those sources are possible, yes. But with my visions of Darth Maul accessible again, I am struck by how many successes we are shown having by improvisation and luck, and how many failures when things play out according to plans. Come with me, please?"

He stayed apace with me easily despite my rapid stride. Well, he was taller. "I question your wisdom, Padawan," he said. "You determine that plans are failing, and yet we succeed by the Force alone." Qui-Gon's tone with those words was happy, satisfied. "And you respond by making even more plans? Why not accept the Will of the Living Force?"

We exited the temple, moving to a nearby platform. I tapped my wrist com and we waited. "I conclude that the Sith are looking farther ahead, or otherwise able to see the shape of coming events. So, instead of a big plan, I'm setting different pieces in motion."

Qui-Gon squared himself to me as we stepped on an approaching platform. "Answer my question, Obi-wan. The Living Force guides us to defeat Darth Maul, to save Naboo. Why will you not give over to it?"

I looked up at him, but I couldn't see him in front of me. All I could see was the look of loss, of weary defeat, as a red blade penetrate his torso. The sharp-toothed grin of a red-faced lunatic. I turned away from him, centering my focus on a distant building, willing the scene banished.

"You blame yourself for Adi Gallia's death," Qui-Gon breathed as he stood over me on the rapidly sinking float transport. "You think of her, and your heart turns Dark. You are in danger, Obi-wan."

"No, Qui-Gon. You are in danger," I spat.

We exited the pallet, and I palmed the scan-lock on the front entrance to the range complex. We walked in silence down stairs to the correct floor, where I inserted my coded key and entered the number sequence.

"That's where you're wrong," Qui-Gon said softly as the door unsealed. "I am a part of the Force, and all you have seen is that I rejoin it fully. That future holds no terror for me."

"You can stop dwelling on that future, because it isn't happening," I muttered, barreling my way to my 'war chest.'

"What are those?" Qui-Gon pointed.

"Customized sniper blasters," I answered while reaching below one of my special armaments and carefully placing a case of microexplosives off to one side. "I own a minority interest in BlasTech; consulting with them is where most of my operating funds come from. Amazing how useful you can be to a weapons company when you've seen what models everyone uses in which conflicts, decades in advance."

I pulled out the thick, almost rubberized material and shook it into its shape - a sleeved shirt. "Put this on, please."

Qui-Gon took the shirt at arm's length, regarding it like I had handed him a dead animal. "What is it?"

"Armor. Please put it on, right next to your skin." I briefly checked the second shirt, which was sized to my smaller frame, and replaced it with the other contents of the chest. Getting a third of those for Anakin in a few years would be just as hard as acquiring the first two, but it would mean that I had kept Qui-Gon alive. Worth it.

The look my Master gave me told me that his patience was nearly gone. He quickly unfastened his robe and doffed his tunic, flashing a chest with a prominent burn mark and a fading scar along his right side. The armor clung oddly as he inched it down his torso, requiring numerous tugs to get into place, and I could sense his discomfort with the sleeves as they clung to his shoulders and elbows when he tried bending them.

I had no intent to harm my Master, which is why he had no precognitive warning as I plunged my activated lightsaber directly through the center of his chest. He looked on in surprise as the blue plasma bunched against the armor, spreading out and vanishing with a loud clap as the blade shorted out.

"Cortosis weave," I said, opening up my saber's hilt to make sure the crystal hadn't been damaged by my demonstration. "Made from a very rare metal. It disperses the containment energy of a blaster bolt, and shorts out a lightsaber." I activated my weapon, letting it flicker and sputter for a couple of seconds before re-initializing.

"Very impressive," Qui-Gon opined. "Thank you, Obi-wan. It is a unique gift, and it expresses your concern for me in a tangible way."

I nodded, pleased. "You're welcome, Master."

"I'm afraid I can't wear it." He pulled it off with both hands, shaking it out and extending it to me.

"You certainly can. I will be," I pointed out. I didn't reach to take back the shirt.

"That is your choice. Mine is to trust in the Force to protect me. Wearing that," he nodded to it as though it were already a mile away from him, "would undermine what I believe, and what I have been trying to teach you."

"I see it in my head, you being run through," I mused, eerily calm. "Now that I remember, it keeps coming up. I see it again and again."

"Saving me doesn't save Adi," Qui-Gon said softly.

I snatched the shirt and folded it. "No, but it might save Anakin."

As I replaced my devices and locked the box, my Master replied, "Only Anakin can save Anakin." He caught my eyes and I shook my head. "No, truly. Listen, I am not intending to die. And if I survive Naboo, then you and I will work together in Anakin's instruction. But in the end, whatever changes you make to his life and whatever differing ideas you teach him, he will confront the Dark Side, and he will make a choice. His choice."

I sighed, moving toward the door of the range. Qui-Gon stopped me and said, "Adi also made a choice, taking on a mission she believed in and knew was dangerous. And I have made my own choice about defending Naboo and confronting the Sith. Don't burden yourself with the choices of others, Obi-wan. Focus on making your own."

"Yes, Master," was all I could think to reply.