Finally, at long last, the next piece is here. I had some trouble getting back into character. Thank you everyone for your patience with me and for your reviews.

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Streaks of soft radiance lined the borderless infinity of hyperspace blackness. Dimmed glowrod shed pastel gleam across the room, hiding more than it could reveal. Perched on a resting cot, Obi-Wan sat in thought, plunged in semi-darkness. His chin was resting on his palms. Dull eyes remained fixed on the viewport, unseeing. His thoughts wandered.

Palpatine – the newly elected Supreme Chancellor of the Republic – had offered to give the three of them a lift to Coruscant. Obi-Wan couldn't help a sarcastic mirthless grin tugging at his lips at the irony of their situation. The Sith Lord and the Jedi abroad one ship on a friendly trip…

Obi-Wan had done his best to keep as far away from Palpatine as the ship's limited space allowed. The instant they had bordered he had found this tiny room, that was unlikely to attract anyone else's attention, and secluded himself in here. No one had bothered him yet, for which he was grateful. He had too many things to think over.

And first of them was Tarius. An enigma. Inconceivable creature. Who or what he was? What was his gain in all this? For Obi-Wan had not a single doubt there was a gain: people like him never do anything for free. What could a person with no capacity to affect the world of matter possibly gain from bringing him, Obi-Wan, back in time and then taking the Force from him? The twenty-five-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi would have seen no sense in it and dismissed the thought altogether. The fifty-seven-year-old Ben Kenobi knew there was something he could not see – yet. He probably would see it – and, Force grant, not too late. For now the questions stayed unanswered, taunting.

Then there was Palpatine. A rancor in bantha's clothing. A very real and deadly threat. While onboard this transport Obi-Wan was relatively safe. After years of disguising Palpatine would not give himself away for the sole purpose of hastily getting rid of one defective former Jedi.

And a defective man as well, Obi-Wan added ruefully. Where normal people have lifetime habits of dealing without Force I have… void.

Yes, the ship was safe. Still, the trip to the capital wouldn't be infinite, so it was only a matter of time. Undoubtedly Sidious would be able to eliminate him even under the protection of the Temple's walls.

To stay alive Obi-Wan had to disappear. Again.

The finality of this decision descended heavily onto his heart. Ever since his acceptation of Tarius' offer he had been – almost unbeknownst to himself – cherishing a hope of returning to the Temple.

Hoping is silly, old man… He told himself with exaggerated sternness.

A quick shadow that flickered across the glowrod's faint light startled Obi-Wan. He froze, then slowly surveyed the room. With no Force to warn him of danger he was more vulnerable than he had ever been – more than he could ever imagine he would be. Nothing. No one. Was he getting paranoid?

That flickering shadow again.

Muscles tensed, ready to leap into action. Lifelong training kicked in.

It wasn't his imagination. It was… there.

A crooked smile of relief cracked his lips. A moth. Only a small, fragile, almost translucent moth. How in the stars could it have gotten into the starship? Drawn by the glowrod's light the moth fluttered around it frenziedly.

"How did you end up here, poor thing?" Obi-Wan asked the tiny being. "Aren't you supposed to fly the fields? Or have you forsaken the freedom of Naboo for this fake light?"

The moth tried – vainly – to find its way to the source of mesmerizing glow. The man watched its fruitless efforts. Wasn't he, Obi-Wan, just like this moth? Wasn't he struggling just as desperately? Weren't his efforts just as useless?

"Why are you so sad? You feel bad?" Anakin's voice, quiet and cautious yet shrill in the silence of hyperspace, alarmed Obi-Wan. He looked at the boy trying to quell emotions that sprang forth: fear at first, irritation at being bothered, almost panic as he saw who stood at the doorway. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and it helped, maybe, out of habit. Hurriedly he plastered a welcoming smile onto his face.

Anakin watched the young man with an expression that was all too familiar to Obi-Wan: curiosity, genuine sympathy and readiness to bolt in fright any moment. Expression of the former slave who knew all the ins and outs of harsh life. Seeing a smile he grew bolder and made several steps into the tiny compartment.

"Yes, you feel bad," the boy continued with assurance. He climbed onto the bunk next to Obi-Wan and gazed up at him. "You're ill, aren't you?"

"You could say so." The penetrating stare of crystal-blue orbs was unsettling. Obi-Wan shifted his eyes to the door – anywhere, just not to look into the sparkling depth of those painfully familiar eyes.

He had seen all scope of expressions in those eyes, ranging from laughter to concern to anger and even to hatred.

"I'm sure they will help you at the Temple." Anakin suggested. Then added a bit quieter, "Mom would have helped."

"Of course she would."

He had never gotten a chance to talk to Shmi. Had never seen her. And Anakin returned to her only when… No, this time it would be different. Qui-Gon wouldn't let it happen.

Anakin folded his short legs under himself and gazed at the glowrod. Seeing the boy's attention diverted Obi-Wan studied him carefully. He had forgotten Anakin had been this small at the beginning. Nothing in his appearance hinted at Vader.

Anakin watched the moth struggle.

Out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan caught sight of Qui-Gon standing at the door. The Jedi Master was watching them, not revealing his presence. Anakin was too distracted to notice him. Obi-Wan pretended he didn't see the imposing figure of his former Master. Qui-Gon studied his two apprentices – the former and the future – with a pensive and wistful expression. Once, many years ago, Obi-Wan would have thought the Master was comparing them. Once, but not now. Qui-Gon was simply observing them, probably, knowing he would never again see them sitting peacefully together like this. Obi-Wan nearly called him in, but didn't.

A minute later Qui-Gon left.

Anakin, with his energetic and passionate nature, could not tolerate silence for long. Soon he was excitedly telling Obi-Wan the incredible story of his victory over Neimodians.

"And then there's a whole throng of them 'round me! And I fire at them!" His fingers curled as though around a trigger. "Boom!"

"You dislike them very much?" Obi-Wan asked with a smile that didn't, however, reflect in his eyes.

"They're evil and nasty. I'd like to kill them all!"

Sparks of fury flashed in the boy's suddenly darkened eyes. Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to sense the wave of spite rolling off Anakin. The young man frowned.

"You think they deserve to be killed?"

"Of course! They will know not to attack peaceful planets like Naboo." There wasn't a slightest trace of hesitation or doubt about the rightfulness of his words in Anakin's voice.

Is this the first trace of Vader? Obi-Wan mentally wondered.

"Who's Vader?"

Obi-Wan started. The question, asked out of innocent curiosity, was thundering, accusatory for the former Jedi. He looked in fright at the small powerful creature beside him, whom – he once thought – he had been used to know.

"You can hear what I think?" the man asked cautiously, softly, wary of the slight tremble in his voice.

"Um, yeah. You know, you were so…" he fumbled for the suitable word, "closed before. And now you're all open, and I can hear what you think." Anakin gazed up at Obi-Wan, gauging his reaction. There was no hint of remorse at overhearing other's private thoughts in the boy's eyes.

Making up his mind, Obi-Wan abruptly stood. "It's been a long day. You should get some sleep."

"You're going to talk to Qui-Gon?" Anakin was nothing if not keen.

"That too."

Obi-Wan refused to ponder on whether the look in Anakin's eyes was jealousy or something else entirely. His thoughts weren't his anymore – and it was not only embarrassing, but could quickly escalate to outright dangerous if he let his contemplations stray.

Anakin cocked his head to the side and studied the man in front of him. Then he suddenly yawned widely like a little child that he was.

"See?" Obi-Wan smiled despite himself. See? You can do this. The smile wasn't unlike the one he gave Luke back at the Millenium Falcon.

Anakin yawned again and climbed onto the cot. "I will sleep here," he announced.

"All right, but you need some blankets. It's cold here – especially compared to Tatooine." He almost shivered himself. It was cold indeed.

"Yeah, Tatooine is hot." Anakin curled up, and Obi-Wan draped a warm downy blanket over him.

"Good night… Ani."

But the boy was fast asleep and didn't hear.

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