There were many rooms in the Jedi Temple that were set aside for meditation. Anyone could use them at any time during the day or night. They were simply decorated, sound proofed, and often contained fountains to focus on as a means of slipping into trance. No such place existed in the lodge on Naboo.

The room she had been given was more than acceptable to Eliel Jensei, furnished as it was with plush cushions, carved wooden furniture, and stunning works of native art. Best of all, there was a giant, fluffy bed that was stacked with pillows and dressed with soft, cozy linens. It was unlike any bed she had ever slept in before and unlike any she was liable to find herself in again. By all rights, she should be deep in slumber by this hour, dreaming, perhaps, of pastoral Alderaan.

Instead, she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, focusing on her breath. The air on Naboo was sweet and soft. It flowed through her damaged lungs easily, helping to erase some of the dryness of Tatooine and soothing the emotional scars that were beginning to form.

She began her meditation as always, with a scan of her own life-imprint within the Force. Things were still out of balance, she knew. Small spires of pain still crept around the edge and threatened to betray her at any moment. The hold she had on her emotions was thin in places, allowing both anger and grief to stretch their muscles within her. Someday--someday soon, perhaps--she would deal with them. She would delve into the dark place that opened in her soul when Nerilu Hic fell in battle and she would begin to sort through things.

For now, though, there were other things to consider. A thought formed briefly in her mind and Eliel let it come, knowing from experience that striving to keep it away would delay her progression into trance more than allowing it to slip in.

If only Skywalker were advanced to the point in his training where he understood that emotions were not always immediate.

Indeed. If only.

Eliel dismissed the thought and focused on her breath once more, reaching into the Force to explore her surroundings. Naboo was abundant with Life. She could feel it pressing in from all directions and at all levels. Everything from the plants blooming on the terrace to the people who inhabited the house had an energy that moved through and around her, bringing a sense of solace.

Obi-Wan was a bright pulse in that web, ensconced, as he was, two rooms down. He was agitated, though. Pacing, probably. And this came as no surprise. A lot weighed on him, she knew. There would be a conflict with Anakin when he returned to the house. The boy would not want to return to his duties; would not want to leave this place of freedom and return to a life where he was not Master. Anakin would resent the close scrutiny of the Council and it would be a very fine line for his Master to walk if Obi-Wan had any hope of maintaining a rapport with his Padawan.

It wasn't fair that someone like her friend--someone with immense talent and potential of his own--had been saddled so early with a student like Anakin Skywalker. She had done her level best to talk him out of the decision, in fact. But Obi-Wan was nothing if not loyal. He would not break a promise to his Master. He would train Skywalker to the best of his abilities, even if the task ended up costing him everything. All the while, she knew, he would hold himself to near impossible standards and count every one of Anakin's failures as his own.

Eliel's attention split suddenly as a ripple of power surged through the house.

Anakin.

Anakin Skywalker had returned from his trip and was blazing with the Force. He was flushed with the thrill of a mission accomplished without supervision and, she realized suddenly, with an overwhelmingly urgent need to see the Senator.

Compared to this, the feelings Anakin had leaked to her in the Healer Hall were nothing--mere shadows of emotion. This was strong, almost overwhelmingly so, and somewhat primal. It was clear to her that Anakin was not aware of their presence in the house. Reckless as he might be, there was no way the young man would allow his emotions to go unchecked in this manner around fellow Jedi.

She felt them come together with a jolt that forced Eliel's eyes open and sent her scrambling to her feet. This was much, much bigger than she had imagined back in the atrium on Coruscant. It was not the innocent indulgence of first love and it did not stem from the basic human need to be sexual. The scope of Anakin's feelings ran a tangled, twisted gamut between joy and obsession.

Eliel grabbed her cloak and threw it around her shoulders, not bothering to find her boots as she strode for the door. A Jedi needn't be in a trance to sense what was happening elsewhere in the house--not when it was an event of this magnitude.

"Wait!" She caught Obi-Wan by the arm as he strode past her door.

He spun, his face a mask of fury.

"Wait," she repeated in what she hoped was a soothing tone. "There isn't anything you can do about it now. This is not the time to confront him."

He shook his head angrily, pointing with his left hand. "That boy is"

"I know perfectly well what he's doing," she cut in. "And if you go in there now, you will ruin all hope of bringing him back."

"You expect me to just sit here while hewhile he--"

"No," Eliel spun on her heel, dragging him along. "I expect you to come for a walk with me so neither of us has to cope with the" she faltered, looking for an appropriate word.

"A walk?! A walk?!" He planted his feet, pulling back against her stubbornly. "He's busy violating everything the Order holds sacred and you want to go for a walk?!"

Eliel sighed and seriously considered clocking him over the head with the vase sitting on a nearby table. "Feel it for a moment, Obi-Wan."

"I felt it just fine, thank you," he shot back.

She shook his elbow, gripping with all the strength her wounded hand would offer. "It's joyous. It's--"

"Wrong."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding emphatically. "It is. But it's not dangerous. Not immediately. Not unless you make it so. Take a walk with me. Please."

He scowled at her openly, then turned his gaze downward toward the thick carpeting in the hallway. "You're not wearing shoes."

"Neither," she answered, "are you."

Obi-Wan shifted his gaze to his feet. He stared at them blankly for a long moment, wondering idly how a part of his own body could feel so disconnected. The toes he saw were digging into the weave of the rug as if manifesting an anger of their very own. They were pale against the cloth and veins were beginning to appear across the top of his foot.

He wiggled a toe, just to make certain it was still under his control, then drew in a deep breath, working to calm himself. She was right, of course. Confronting Anakin about his transgressions was not the right thing to do at the moment. Emotions were running far too high on every side of the equation for there to be any hope of success.

"All right," he said, looking up at her again.

Eliel offered a reassuring smile and tucked her elbow through his arm, steering for the nearest exit before he had the chance to reconsider his decision. The more distance they put between themselves and Anakin Skywalker, the more distractions they had outside in the night air, the better off they both would be.

They were a good way from the lodge when she finally slowed and released his arm in order to gain better balance as they climbed a pile of rocks on the beach. Eliel was all the way across to the other side and starting down the sand once more before she realized that he was no longer with her. Frowning, she turned and scanned the mass of stone. There was no sign of him.

She returned along the path and paused at the peak of the pile when he came into view; slumped inwards on himself atop a boulder near where she'd ceased to propel him forward. Eliel sighed, her heart cracking at the sight.

"I've failed," he said.

"No," she shook her head, descending rapidly toward him. Anakin was alive. He was bright and eager and vital.

"I have."

"Failure," Eliel said, a slight edge creeping into her voice, "comes when you are standing and your Padawan is not. He's faltering, yes. But, as long as he is breathing, you have hope to change that."

Obi-Wan looked up at her and empathy flashed across his face. "You did everything you could, Eliel," he said.

She shrugged and looked down at the sand for a long moment before returning his gaze. "And you'll do everything you can."

He offered a hand and gestured to the boulder he was sitting on. "What if that isn't enough?"

Eliel gripped his fingers, drawing comfort from their familiar warmth as she settled in next to him. "None of us are perfect, my friend."

****

The following morning, Eliel was drawn from her slumber by the insistent beeping of her comm She rolled over in the massive bed and took up her wrist link, keying open communications with their ship. "Yes, Arfour?"

The droid beeped at her happily, indicating that he was finally finished with the assignment she'd given him shortly after their arrival.

"Well," she answered, rolling into a sitting position, "it certainly took you long enough."

R4 chirped at her, clearly scolding.

"Yes, yes, the databanks are over loaded and it's a long way to Coruscant. Please, Arfour, just send me the information?"

When the download was complete, Eliel scrubbed at her face sleepily and sighed. There were literally hundreds of names listed as having had contact with Dooku when he was still a member of the Jedi Order. She frowned in thought as she scrolled through them aimlessly. This would take forever unless the search parameters were narrowed.

Eliel threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor, preparing to dress. Obi-Wan was much better at this sort of thing. He had far more patience for the type of logic computers required and was very skilled at getting them to do precisely what he asked.

Several minutes later, she found him standing on the terrace chatting companionably with one of the Senator's handmaidens--Dorme, if memory served. "I need your help," she said, offering the words as both request and salutation.

He blinked at her for a moment, taking in her somewhat disheveled appearance, then nodded. "What is it?"

Eliel held up her wrist link, which was still displaying the scrolling list of Jedi names. "I need you to help me narrow a search."

Obi-Wan excused himself and crossed to her. He took the link and moved into the shade so that they could better see the holographic display. "What are we looking for?"

"The trail," she answered. "It's a list of all the Jedi who are connected to Dooku in some way."

"Dooku?"

Eliel shrugged. "It seemed like a logical place to start when considering who would use the Force against the Tuskens."

"I thought," he responded, smiling, "that Dooku was a risky bet."

"Maybe he's working for someone else," she countered, gesturing to the data as it scrolled before them. "Justfix it, will you?"

Obi-Wan grinned, clearly amused by her unwillingness to admit that the hunch she followed was actually his. "How do you want to narrow it?"

She raised both eyebrows, then furrowed her brow and hitched up a shoulder, demonstrating a loss. "Start with his students?"

"That's easy," he punched a couple of keys on her comm and instantly the list dwindled to a handful of names.

Eliel peered over his shoulder as they scrolled. "Amil Yosha?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Amil was Dooku's Padawan before Qui-Gon."

She pursed her lips in thought, recalling what she could about Master Yosha from the limited contact they'd had. He was a taciturn man, to put it mildly, but rumors amongst the students indicated that Yosha's personal opinions about the trappings of the Order rivaled even Qui-Gon Jinn's tendency toward the unorthodox. Rumor, she frowned suddenly, and first hand descriptions from Yosha's own Padawan at the time.

She paced away from Obi-Wan, processing both memory and the new information about Yosha's link to Dooku.

"Yosha is dead, though," Obi-Wan added without looking up from the data stream. "He caught a fever on Roga Prime and Marin couldn't get him back to the temple in time, remember?"

She nodded absently. Yes, the circumstances of Master Yosha's death were very clearly etched into Eliel's memory. His Padawan, Tarc Marin, had shared them in great detail in the days after the funeral. Marin, in fact, blamed the Council for sending them on the mission to Roga in the first place. Yosha, he insisted, was too elderly to be put at risk on such a wild planet.

"None of these names make any sense as our man," Obi-Wan said. "Most of them are dead." Obi-Wan re-keyed the search parameters, widening the scope once more. "There must be something we're missing."

Eliel nodded in agreement and began to pace once more. "Tell me what he said to you on Geonosis again?"

"Nonsense, really," he answered, frowning. "A Sith lord in control of the Senate. Then he asked me to join his cause and root out the corruption. He said that Qui-Gon would have acted against the bureaucracy."

She snorted, disgusted by the very suggestion that Qui-Gon Jinn would leave the Order to support a group bent on secession from the Republic. Few Jedi ever left, despite personal ideological differences with the Jedi Order and Code. Most, in her experience, learned how to balance their own beliefs with those of the Council and spent their lives walking a fine, but deliberately chosen line between the two. Every once in a while, something would flare up--like Qui-Gon's wish to take Anakin Skywalker as his student--but such differences were typically quickly resolved through compromise on the part of either the Knight in question, or, in rare circumstances, the Council itself. When someone renounced the Order, it was more than a matter of almost epic proportion.

The Order was strict about teaching the names of Jedi who chose to leave. The Lost Twenty, as they were called, were often used as lessons, in fact. It was not as important, though, when a student failed before reaching the rank of Knight. Many, she knew, left the temple in shame and were cast into the galaxy to make their own way, never to be heard from or mentioned again.

Eliel stopped pacing when his boots came into view again and threw herself down on the bench next to Obi-Wan. There was something she was missing. Some small linksome miniscule piece of the puzzle that, once in place, would make everything crystal clear.

"Where do you go when looking to make allies?" She asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "To the enemies of your enemies. To like-minded people."

Like-minded people. It certainly stood to reason that if Dooku believed his former student Qui-Gon would be sympathetic to his cause, it would not be a stretch of logic for him to assume that Qui-Gon's own Padawan would be of similar opinion. It was not all together uncommon, after all, for a student to adopt his Master's ideals as his own.

Eliel blinked suddenly, the dawn of epiphany sending a tingle through her senses. A name sprang forward from her memory and with it came a twisting in her gut. She looked to Obi-Wan, afraid to voice her conclusion.

"Marin!" He exclaimed.

"Tarc," she echoed with a sigh.

Tarc Marin, a contemporary of theirs at the academy, was denied the right to take the trials after his Master's death. The Council wanted him to spend time in retreat before attempting to attain the rank of Knight, believing that, at merely nineteen, he was not prepared for the rigors of the tests. His response came in the form of bitter disappointment and anger. Three days later, Tarc left Coruscant and the Jedi Order, vowing never to return and denouncing the Council as both narrow minded and unjust.

"We need to get back," she said, heaving another sigh. Somehow, things had been far more black and white when their enemy was faceless. "The Council needs to know this."

Obi-Wan nodded and he gave her thigh a supportive squeeze before letting out a sigh of equal weight. "I need to speak with Anakin first."

[End Part 6]

Elismor
July 2002