The Book of Friendship

"A shard from a Seikhan corvette."

For Obi-Wan that was all that had to be said. The make of the craft had sat at the edge of his thoughts ever since the Supreme Chancellor had uttered the words.

His gaze turned to the large windows that lined the corridor. The amber glow of the city below gave an eerie cast to the city that surrounded the ancient Jedi Temple. He stopped before a window to study the distant lights of the never-ending traffic lines.

"It is not an uncommon vehicle," Mace Windu said as he also sought the strange comfort of the still lively city at evening.

Obi-Wan twisted, settling pale blue eyes on the senior Council member. "You and I both know it is not that common."

Mace quirked an eyebrow but said nothing.

The younger master was quiet as he scanned the hall to make sure there was no one within earshot of the sensitive conversation. "There are eight dead politicians with shards from the same vehicle."

"So Kinyo's report stated," Mace said dully. "Have they traced the serial number to an owner yet?"

Obi-Wan paused, wondering what the older Jedi was hiding. "That I do not know," he replied carefully, folding himself into the layers of his cloak. "The Chancellor may make a show of being forthcoming with information but the actual act is always quite slow. I also suspect incomplete."

"I also noted the report seemed lacking in places."

Again Obi-Wan turned back to the constant flow of traffic in the distance. "I do not think we can track this enemy."

"We must. Too much hangs in the balance."

Finding the assassin may decide between peace and war for the foundering Galactic Republic.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, Master."

The killer was always two steps ahead and any attempt to guess their next move was always wrong.

A part of Obi-Wan wished that he and Bali had not been mediating the dispute between Niovis Mining Corporation and the residents of Huok 3. It put them just a short jaunt from the scene of the Tamboa Senator's murder. They would never have been personally wrapped up in this mess and could go about their lives oblivious to the invisible machinations behind the scenes of the impending civil war.

He was tired from all of this but knew it was only just beginning. Things would only get worse before they got better.

Reaching into his bond with Bali, Obi-Wan checked to see that Bali was safe and in the Temple archives. He was happy and was probably among friends.

"Master, I–"

Mace spun so quickly that Obi-Wan went silent with surprise. "Has it ever occurred to you that in casual conversation you can just call me Mace?"

Obi-Wan just looked at him.

Mace laughed as he shook his head. "How long have we known each other?"

The younger master did not answer, still confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.

"Okay," Mace said as he waved his hand in acquiescence. "Let me rephrase that. How long has it been since you were a padawan?"

"Nine years."

"Nine years," Mace repeated. "In that time you became a respected–if not feared–knight. An excellent operative but a complete pain in the butt for the Council."

"Am I supposed to argue this?" Obi-Wan asked, unsure of the conversation.

The Councilor laughed at the uncertainty in Obi-Wan. "You have done wonders with your padawan's training."

"He is an eager student." The younger man straightened slightly, folding his arms deeps into the billowing sleeves of his cloak.

"You realize I have stuck my neck out for you many times."

"Not to mention doused me in Lobigarian berry juice."

"Only you could sit there dripping in purple and look totally calm about it."

"More like stunned beyond belief that you were the instigator and not Bali."

Mace chuckled. "Actually I caught him shaking the bottle up but he could not control that silly grin of his. So I offered to help."

"So in other words you were corrupting my padawan?" There was a hint of playfulness in the ginger haired man's voice.

"You make it sound like it was a bad thing." Mace turned his attention back from the window to him. "Yes, of course you never did anything like that when you were his age."

Obi-Wan retreated slightly. "Master–"

"Excuse me?" Mace said quickly issuing his most authoritative tone.

"Some habits are hard to break," Obi-Wan replied. After a moment of hesitation, he smiled. "Mace."

___________________

The Book of Questions

"Padawan," Qui-Gon said evenly drawing Anakin's attention away from the young senator in her office.

The younger man paused before turning. "Yes, Master?"

Was it just him, or did Anakin seem annoyed?

"Protecting the Senator does not mean hovering over her person."

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied tightly as he drew back to take his place at his master's side.

Qui-Gon twisted slightly to study the young man. Sometimes he forgot the boy was nearly as tall as he was. He often forgot a lot of things.

Especially that Anakin was no longer a child.

"You are a Jedi." Qui-Gon said calmly. "There are great expectations on you."

"I know, my master."

"Yes, I am certain of that." The elder Jedi paused to study the young man next to him then to gently probe their bond. It "But as a Jedi, you knew there werethings that you had to give up."

Through the bond, he could feel Anakin tense.

"Master–"

"You must focus on what is important. The Senator's safety. Focusing on her alone will keep you from seeing what must be seen."

"Master–"

"Do not interrupt me, Padawan."

Anakin lowered his head slightly.

Of course, this was the state of the conversation as of late. Anakin always seemed to be interrupting him. His impatience showing through all to often.

"If you are telling me that I can't," Anakin paused, "pursue a relationship with her then you need not worry, Master. She is a Senator and I am a Jedi. Our journeys lie on separate paths."

The young man's words made Qui-Gon hesitate. Then he smiled. As long as Anakin understood the path he was on that was all that mattered. Still, the master was aware of young man's narrowly focused attention.

He and the boy were going to have to sit down and have a serious discussion. Turning his attention toward the busy senator he knew it would not be at this moment. Again he reached out into their bond.

The connection tightened at Anakin's end.

"Did you have a nice conversation earlier, Master?" The young man asked sharply.

Completely taken off guard by the question, Qui-Gon turned to face the young man. Anakin's attention remained on Padmé.

"As pleasant as expected."

Anakin smiled slightly. "I think the corridor needs patrolled." He stilled his expression into an unreadable mask. He bowed to the older Jedi and quickly retreated from the apartment.

At the sound of the door, Padmé glanced up from her desk, then quickly returned her attention to the report in front of her.

The quick glance did not go unnoticed by Qui-Gon.

After a time, the tall master strode to the large windows and stared out at the brightly-lit expanse of city below. Anakin's question bothered him. Although he wasn't sure if it was the question itself or his answer to it that inspired the most concern.

As pleasant as expected.

There had been great trepidation when he had turned to see the escaping former padawan. He had stumbled when calling out Obi-Wan's name as if it had been alien to him. He had not expected the young man to stop but he was surprised that the little boy did.

At first glance, he saw in Bali the feisty initiate Obi-Wan had once been. Then as the boy stood there, looking at him he noticed Obi-Wan's aloofness reflected in his actions. Not as strong though.

In the apprentice he saw a well of emotions that the boy had not entirely mastered masking. But he was still young and had plenty of time to learn. The Jedi Master had seen curiosity and even a littlewell, he was pretty sure the child did not like being called little.

The apprentice had excellent mental shielding for his age but his face still gave away his relief upon Obi-Wan's reluctant return.

Maybe he had been wrong trying to speak to the boy without his master being present but he wished that Obi-Wan had given him the opportunity to speak. He just could not understand why his former apprentice insisted on keeping him at a distance.

Bali had been good for Obi-Wan and he dearly hoped the change was not just on the surface. And maybe, just maybe, they could speak for a little while.

Even at this late hour, from this angle, if he strained and used a little imagination he could almost make out the primary tower of the Jedi Temple.

Qui-Gon had never imagined it to be so large that he could go years and have next to no contact with Obi-Wan. He had thought since

No. He just chastised Anakin for being too narrow minded. There were more important things on hand to be concerned about. This mission will not last much longer. The assassin will be found and they will return back to the normalcy of life. Then he could think about more personal matters.

___________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part IV

"Foolish child!" Ighista Trocha spat as he twisted, his green lightsaber slicing brightly through the evening air. "Did you imagine I was just going to stand by helplessly?"

Obi-Wan leapt backward narrowly missing being slashed across the chest.

Anger boiled within the Master Healer at his inability to strike down the younger man. "Your life was forfeit the moment you arrived at the colony."

Again the knight easily dodged a devastating blow and stepped well out of Trocha's reach. "You never wanted Qin Luc alive."

"Her usefulness had ended. Those Xim rebels were saving her from the firing squad." Noting the surprised look that briefly fluttered across Obi-Wan's face, he lunged forward, keeping the other man on the defensive. Intentionally he drove the knight toward the body of his wife. The distraction it caused the younger man proved quite useful.

Obi-Wan caught him off guard and nicked his wrist.

A pained howl escaped the older man but it did not slow him down. Retaliating, Trocha lashed out burning through layers of cloak and tunic but the green blade did not contact skin.

Halla lay in a rumpled mess where she had been ruthlessly shot down. Her bright blue cloak smoldered where it twisted around her face in poor protection.

"And your wife?" Obi-Wan growled. "What did Halla have to do with this!"

"You act as if she were innocent," Trocha laughed. With his free hand he reached out, slamming Obi-Wan with a powerful Force push.

The knight stumbled and struggled not to crash into the young woman's body.

"Do you think me blind, Jedi pup?" What once had been serene eyes now reflected only cruelty in their black depths. His step remained lively over the durasteel platform. "She would have risked all of my research and advances to get you away from here!" Trocha spat. "She would have let you take the information about my work back to the Senate. I could not have that." Trocha struggled to keep the powerful warrior in check. "She was expendable."

"She did not deserve to be murdered." With those words spoken, something in the Jedi seemed to change. His focus tightened and in a manner of a few short moves, he had set Trocha on the defensive.

The lightsaber's glowing blue tip contact with the tender flesh of Trocha's throat. A jagged line was traced over the skin.

The healer gave a garbled, stifled scream as he clutched the wounded flesh while staggering away.

Never backing down, Obi-Wan pressed the attack pushing Trocha into a blocked off area.

Trocha stumbled backward, falling against the cool, chrome surface of his private launch, a Seikhan corvette. The fear in his face reflected in the gently curving mirrored surface.

The small area hindered the battle, keeping the lightsabers moving in short, quick motions. The expert swordsman quickly emerged. Trocha was quickly loosing the battle.

Ducking, he made a jab for the knight only to be deflected.

Sabers clashed again and again.

Twisting his weapon around, Obi-Wan caught the other's saber in a lock and pulled the hilt from the older man's hands.

Instinctively Trocha reached out with the Force and called his weapon back.

As the silver cylinder flew through the air, a flash of blue sliced it in half.

The Master Healer pressed himself to the silver side of the Seikhan. He just stood there, breathing heavily. Fire tore through his throat the moment he opened his mouth to speak. Regretting the action, he remained silent. Fingers brushed over the wounded flesh. The gash was long and winding, cauterized by the Jedi's weapon.

Very calmly, Obi-Wan raised his weapon and held it just below Trocha's chin. His ginger hair was damp from the exertion and clung heavily to the side of his face.

Carefully shifting his gaze to his immediate surroundings, Trocha noted his precarious placement between the two lower engines. His gaze focused on the knight before him. A cool smile twisted his lips upward. Clutching his throat, he rasped, "I could never defeat Jinn's apprentice in a saber fight." He paused catching the uncertain look in Obi-Wan's eyes. "At least not a fair one."

He saw the change. The moment of understanding hit Obi-Wan, but his efforts was not fast enough.

Trocha reached out through the Force triggering his ship's engines. In the distance of a heartbeat he turned his attention to the escaping knight and slammed him with a Force push just as the engines flared.

The impact threw him to the deck, pinning him there until the stun wore of and he could manipulate the engine controls through the Force again.

With the pressure removed, he looked up through blurred vision.

Obi-Wan was no where to be seen.

Not that he was ever wholly dependent on his eyes. The Force told him the Jedi still lived.

Dragging himself to his feet, Trocha stumbled across the damaged platform. Something drew his fuzzy attention and he walked slowly to investigate the shine. Calling the object to his hand, he immediately activated the glowing blue blade of the lightsaber.

With a slow and deliberate pace, Trocha walked up to the torn away railing that separated him from oblivion. Casting healing energies inward, he paused until his vision cleared.

A little sound at his feet drew his attention.

Obi-Wan held onto a tangle of cable that had been torn free from its hiding place. He had pulled himself almost back to the platform.

"I will tell the Jedi Council you fought bravely but there were just too many Xim rebels." In one smooth motion, Trocha sliced into the cable, severing it from the platform.

_________________

The Book of Hushed Conversations

"Liar," Bali mumbled as he twisted under the covers of his sleep couch. He waved a hand defensively, but it tiredly sank back to his chest. "Not hear your lies." Groaning softly, the apprentice kicked out and rolled over, clutching his pillow tightly. "Not true," he argued with the unseen tormentor.

Obi-Wan stood silently in the doorway. The boy's incoherent words had drawn him from his report.

"Liar!" The sleep slurred voice called out, but Bali did not wake.

The master had decided he had enough. Stealing silently into the room, he sat at the edge of the sleep couch. Bali mumbled something but it made no sense to him.

Bali would be yelling and terrified soon like he was so often.

But not tonight.

The boy deserved at least one good night sleep.

"It is just a nightmare, Padawan," Obi-Wan whispered softly as he out and brushed his fingers over the trembling back. Through their bond he sent waves of peace and calm reassurance.

"Monster," the boy mumbled shrugging away from the touch.

In the space of a heartbeat, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of the boy's nightmare. A figure of never ending darkness, then Bali's shields closed him out.

"Bali," Obi-Wan said softly, ignoring the boy's response. "Just a nightmare," he whispered softly. Fingers lightly adjusted the braid that was twisted around the boy's neck. Through the bond, he reinforced peace and safety until he could feel the tightly held fear begin to slip away. The death grip Bali had on the pillow loosened and he finally began to relax. With a gentle call to the Force, Obi-Wan sent a sleep compulsion.

Let the boy sleep tonight. In the morning, as always he would try to discuss them with Bali. Although the boy had rarely been receptive to such conversations, but he knew something had to be done.

Bali stilled and sank into a deep sleep.

Instead of immediately retreating back to his work, Obi-Wan just sat there studying the thirteen-year-old still twisted up in his bedding. He then carefully untangled the covers that held the small legs prisoner. Another thing that he would have to work with the boy about. It would do no good if Bali responded to a threat only to fall out of bed because he feet were tangled up in the covers.

Of course, it could wait until morning.

In the same quiet, he had entered the room with, Obi-Wan left. He pulled at the edges of the well-made cloak, craving the warmth that it provided. Even if it was never enough.

In the common room, he paused just at the edge of the plain gray couch. His gaze found the waiting report at the small table, but he did not attempt to return to it. Like everything else, it could wait until morning. Never taking his gaze from the work that awaited him he reached out through the Force and activated the front door controls.

A soft swoosh revealed a very startled Bant Eerin. "I really hate it when you do that."

"I do not like anyone sneaking up on me," Obi-Wan said calmly before sinking into the couch. His fingers traced the hem of the heavy brown cloak and tugged it closed around him.

Bant paused out in the hall. "I am pretty sure I was not," she stepped in and closed the door behind her, "sneaking up on you." She stood there for a moment studying her friend. "Okay, maybe so, but I wasn't trying that hard."

"You weren't?" Obi-Wan asked wryly.

The healer huffed and tossed herself into the chair across from the couch. "You had better keep your guard up, I am going to catch you by surprise someday."

Obi-Wan chuckled.

Pleased by his response, she replied, "Oh good, your sense of humor did not die of boredom." She smiled, unable to help herself. "So tell me about her."

A frown shadowed the master's face. "There is no her."

"Oh, I see, Bali was just making up the flighty assistant then."

Her remark earned a sharp look. "Don't encourage him."

Bant laughed. "Why do I have the feeling that is what you tell him behind my back?"

"Because I do?" He straightened slightly, glancing around the room in desperate need of something to occupy himself with. A lifetime of friendship had given Obi-Wan certain insights on to how Bant's brain worked. And he did not look forward to being the focus of whatever she had going now.

"So what is she like?" Bant quickly pressed with a mischievous gleam in her silver eyes.

"Very annoying, just like you."

"I like her all ready."

"Bant," came the annoyed growl.

"What?" Bant grinned as she leaned forward in the seat. "I've got to have something juicy to tell Garen next time I hear from him."

"I don't want to talk about her," Obi-Wan snapped as he stood up but quickly noted Bali's open door. His voice barely above a whisper, "Unless you have something interesting to say–"

Undeterred Bant continued, "Bali says she is blond. I just don't get the human fixation with hair but aren't you a brunette kind of guy?" Pausing long enough to squash a wicked grin, she went on, "Pretty. And she likes you."

"Unmasked lust."

"What is the difference?"

"Is it me or are you abnormally irritable?"

Obi-Wan eyed her but said nothing before sinking back to the couch. "I am not irritable."

"Right, and I am a Bothan."

"I just don't–"

"So what is wrong with her?"

Obi-Wan buried his face in the large sleeves of the chestnut colored cloak. "Tell me again why I let you in?"

"Because you are stupid."

"I remember now."

"What is her name?"

The Jedi Master remained silent.

Bant started to search the pockets of her smock. "I am certain there is something I can use to extract the information." Then she offered up a wicked grin.

Obi-Wan sighed. "If I tell you, will you go away?"

"Probably not, but I promise not to laugh too much."

He knew Bant was his friend and this was her own strange and demented way of helping. How, he was not quite sure. "Everything about her repels me. She's brash, oafish, uncouth–"

"And everything Halla Keizian is not."

Obi-Wan turned to face Bant. The sharp look he had initially offered faded into a dull, empty expression before he glanced away. The only thing that would be worse would be to have her examine his scarred back again.

For a time, silence hung between the two.

"No, that is not it," he said flatly.

The Mon Cal healer huffed loudly, showing her disbelief.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked agitatedly.

"Nothing."

Halla Keizian.

Why did Bant have to bring her up when all he did was want to forget her?

Every ache of his spine brought the memory of her back to life. He just did not want to hear her name spoken.

Not casually and not as if she were still alive.

Bant was quiet as she studied him for a time. "We both knew that she would never make it to knighthood, there is no reason to blame yourself. She would have left the Order with you at her side or not and you know it." She gave a weak laugh. "Remember, Halla was the one who gave you the ultimatum."

"If I had not–"

"What do you think was going to happen? Huh? Leave the Order, get married, a couple of little padawans of your own, a hovel in Keoris Prime and a job that you would not enjoy because it is not what you were meant to be? If Halla really knew you she would not have made you choose."

The master pulled his cloak tighter. "You were–"

"I am the one Qui-Gon yelled at. I am the one who tried to protect you two when you were off doingwhatever it was I don't want to think about."

"I almost left with her."

Bant stopped the surprise evident in her large eyes. "What stopped you?" she whispered.

"A long talk with Master Yoda."

"The Force has to love that little green troll," Bant said with a smile. "She was always struggling with herself. Halla lost the battle. Nearly two hundred sentient beings are dead because of her."

"There had to be a good reason–"

"We do not know that for sure," Bant argued trying to keep her tone even and passive. "She ran off, unwilling to explain her actions." There was a moment of silence. "Certainly she could not have exhausted all of her options."

"Master Denshau was dead. She had to make the decision."

Bant's silvery eyes flashed. "How do you know that?"

The master remained silent as he tugged at the edges of his cloak.

"Obi?"

He could hear the sense of betrayal in her voice. Halla had been her friend. "She told me."

Bant started forward, freezing just before she leapt out of the chair. She visually struggled with a well of emotions.

"You have had contact with her?" She shook her head as she stood up to pace the common room. Twisting around to face her friend. "What about the Council? You know they want to find her. There is an internal warrant out for her."

"I told them all about her in my report."

"What report?" The healer demanded.

Obi-Wan did not want to return to those memories. That place and time were crushed up and closed off. He did not want them to resurface.

"Talk to me," Bant said softly but her voice still quivered with agitation.

Unwilling to meet his friend's gaze, he lightly fingered the edge of his cloak. "She is dead."

Bant sank back to the chair.

Obi-Wan just shook his head slightly. "She thought she was helping her husband. She thoughtHalla did not know he was intent on killing me. All she wanted was to get me away from the colony and it cost her life." A touch of anger reflected in Obi-Wan's voice. "I tried to stop him but he got away. He sent me over the edge of the platform."

Realization danced over her salmon features. "A couple of broken vertebrae."

"I had to leave her body where she was gunned down. I could not even give her a proper funeral."

"She was trying to save you," Bant offered.

"She shouldn't have," Obi-Wan growled. "She was afraid of him. I told her to stay out of it."

"Obi-Wan–"

"No. She never listened to me before, why did I expect her to listen then?"

Bant opened her mouth but stopped. Instead she stood and moved to the couch. "You cannot blame yourself. She was not a child and made her own decisions." Carefully she reached out and placed a salmon colored hand on his cloaked shoulder. "Just remember," she said slowly, "if it wasn't for her, that little boy would not have a master who cares for him. He would be another loss to the Jedi and I do not believe we can afford to lose another bright star."

Pale blue eyes studied the healer silently.

"Remember," she pressed, "she would not have done it if she did not care. Do not waste that gift of a second chance."

___________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part III

The ancient yawen tree in the large meditation garden had always been Obi-Wan's favorite place to relax and reflect. He fell back against the smooth white trunk content for a moment just to sit there.

After a while he heaved a loud sigh and tried to turn his thoughts inward, but he could not entirely do so. It had been almost two weeks since Qui-Gon had caught he and Halla together. It felt like a lifetime had past since he had any contact with the pretty padawan. It was not for a lack of trying. It seemed their master's were equally determined to keep them apart.

Last he had heard, what Bant was able to tell him before being censored by her own master, was that Halla had been confined to quarters. She had not even been allowed to go to class recently. Since they shared several of the same classes together.

Even his ability to reach out and touch her mind was compromised. At first, he had thought it was his master's sole doing but after days wore on, Obi-Wan had grown suspicious that there was more to it than that. Not even the great Qui-Gon Jinn could maintain that kind of blocking for two weeks.

"I see you are being blocked too."

Obi-Wan nearly jumped to his feet at the sound of Halla's voice. He grinned at the other padawan. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too," Halla said as she sank to the lush grass next to him. Bright green eyes studied her love for a moment before shifting away.

"We should not be seen together in public."

"What could it matter?" Halla asked, pressing herself to his shoulder.

Obi-Wan glanced about the mediation gardens and they were apparently alone. "They have separated us in the cruelest fashion." She was right. Even the physical proximity to one another did nothing to change the face that he could not sense her. She had all the depth of a holoimage to his highly acute senses. But he could feel her touch. The side of her face pressed gently to his shoulder. The warmth of her breath drifting across his neck. She was real and that was all that mattered.

Halla sighed. "My master and I are to go before the Council in a few hours. I think they mean to send us on a long mission." Her deep brown cloak shifted slightly as she reached from the folds and found Obi-Wan's hand. "I do not want to go."

Where his hand brushed hers, a small zinging sensation caught the young man's attention. He had loved it ever since the first time he had felt the zings even if it was diminished now. Another casualty of the blocking.

The Force moved stilted and uneven between them. Its messages clipped and made little sense.

Disturbed by the lack of clarity he pulled his hand free.

Halla sat up in surprise. "Obi-Wan?"

"We should not be together."

The young woman frowned. "Now you sound like everyone else."

"It will only make things worse–"

"Don't," Halla said sharply as she suddenly got to her feet. "They are going to separate us. Are you not bothered by that?"

"Of course, but–"

"No!" Agitation fluttered across Halla's face. Tears welled in her eyes. "She knows, Obi-Wan. Master knows." Half sobbing, she threw herself against him.

At first Obi-Wan hesitated, unsure what to do, then he slowly wrapped his arms around the dark haired girl. She had demanded a place in his heart that he never even knew needed to be filled. Her presence was so warm and welcoming. Always there when the chill of loneliness cast its gray shadow over him. She was more than a friend. More than a lover. His heart sang at the sound of her voice.

She was already in disfavor with the Council. Her actions during a mediation had severely compromised it. The Zorite Mining Guild nearly walked out and started a war. In the many months since, she had given them little reason to lighten her probation. Being drug before the Council for their so-called indiscretions would be devastating to her place in the Jedi.

And yet, he could not drag himself away from the weeping girl. Wrapping his arms tight around her, he could not give it up. All he wanted to do was hold her.

"I don't want to go," Halla sobbed into his chest.

"You will not be gone forever," Obi-Wan said softly, hoping that would assuage some of the grief. "We have to obey," he whispered.

"No," Halla cried. "No, we don't." She pulled away slightly. "We belong together." She grabbed his hand and held it out to study the little zings that accompanied the Force moving between them. It seemed even weaker than before. "See, we belong together. If they can just see this they would know we have to be together."

"It will not matter." Obi-Wan sighed. His master had made it clear that no one will see reason to allow their relationship to go on. "He would not lie. He says they will not let us stay together."

Halla's lower lip trembled.

"No one is going to bend the rules. Not for us."

"Rules," Halla growled as she pushed completely away from the young man. "Rules that will keep us apart."

"Halla–"

"Let's leave." A happy, joyous smile danced across her pale features. Her eyes seemed so bright as she clutched his hand again, tugging on it. "If we can't be together here, then let's do it someplace else. You know I am right. We belong together." Her gentle laughter fluttered through the meditating garden. "Just think of it, we can be together and there is no one to stop us."

"Leave?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly.

The girl's happy motions ceased as her heart visibly broke with the utterance of that one word. "Obi?"

"We cannot just turn our backs on our training."

"I can." Her voice no longer possessed a warm tone. "Tell me, Obi-Wan. Which is more important? The Order or me?"

"Don't make me choose." Obi-Wan shook his head. It was all too sudden. "I have to think about it."

In Halla's eyes, that Obi-Wan had seen happiness and sadness dance in a thousand times, something changed. The young woman closed her eyes for a moment. Drifting elsewhere for a short time. When they opened there was only emptiness in their green depths. "If you have to think about it, then your choice is not me." She turned sharply, her dark brown cloak swishing with the sudden movement, and marched back to the path.

__________________

The Book of Nightmares

The covers had knotted up in Bali's thrashing but it did not keep the boy still. He twisted around violently. "No," he moaned struggling against the bedding.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as if he were treading water. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not break free. The never-ending whiteness of his surroundings was suffocating.

The apprentice kept running, afraid to stop. In his panic, he cast out searching for someone–anyone–to help him.

"Master!"

No help.

His feet were beginning to ache from the constant running.

No warmth.

He was so tired.

No protection.

"Master!" the boy shrieked.

Not going to cry, Bali demanded of the tears that blurred his vision. Not a little kid anymore.

The whiteness before him started to twist and turn dark. A small gasp escaped the boy as he struggled to avoid the shadow that had formed. His feet slipped out from beneath him and he slammed into the white floor temporarily disorienting him.

The shadow swelled into a horrible black mass.

Bali whimpered as it approached. He struggled to his feet but the monster had wrapped itself all around him leaving no room for escape. Fear quickly boiled up in the padawan as he reached for his lightsaber only to discover it missing.

"Did your master not teach you to keep your weapon with you at all times?" The beast hissed. "He really was not a very good master."

"Liar." The boy twisted around quickly and spied the merciless white of his surroundings. He bolted toward it as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Where are you running to, my little padawan?" the voice hissed from within the shadow. "Your master cannot save you now."

"Lies, all lies."

Do not cry out.

Keep it quiet.

Not a sound.

It cannot hurt me. Just a bad dream like master promised.

"Your master's pathetic promises cannot save you now, little padawan," the voice taunted.

Be quiet.

Keep it to yourself.

Do not wake Master. He doesn't need to know.

Its just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

The shadow took the shape of a black shrouded figure. "You cannot run from me." The ragged edges of the black cloak seemed alive. Grasping at the fleeing boy's feet.

The ground gave way and Bali cried out as he fell. Without an impact, he came to a sudden stop. He looked around quickly but the monster was gone.

After a few moments, his breathing returned to normal but the dream did not dissipate. "Master?" he called out tiredly.

"He cannot save you, my little padawan," a disembodied voice hissed.

It is just a nightmare, it will go away soon.

Too old to be having nightmares.

"I am not your padawan!" Bali cried out as jumped to his feet. "Monster!"

The blood red glow of a lightsaber divided the never-ending darkness.

Bali was too tired to run.

It is just a dream.

He will wake soon.

It would be over soon.

"Padawan?" Concern filled his true master's familiar voice.

No! No!

Master Spex had only confirmed his nightmares.

Panic flooded the thirteen-year-old.

The beast hissed, "Let me show you who is more powerful, my little padawan."

"No!" Bali shrieked, paralyzed by fear, knowing that because of him, his master was going to die.

The glowing red blade swung around and cut through the air so fast Bali could not even cry out.

A familiar static crash crackled in his ears.

Opening his eyes Bali saw the red blade blocked by blue.

"No," Bali moaned, helpless but to watch the battle explode between the darkness and the light.

Obi-Wan expertly drove the beast backward.

Bali sank to his knees, unable to watch again.

The hum and clash seemed to go on forever.

Then suddenly there was silence.

"I am sorry, Master," Bali whispered.

Slowly he raised his gaze. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight of his master lying at the feet of the beast. It did not take Force sensitivity to know the crumpled form was dead. He had seen his master die too many times to know any different.

The distance between he and scene closed.

Bali knelt before his master's body. He reached out slowly and adjusted the rumpled cloak. Moving the material, he saw the blackened area where the beast had plunged the glowing red blade through his master's chest.

The black shrouded figure remained perfectly still, hovering above them.

"I cannot make the nightmare go away, Master," Bali said softly to the lifeless form. Pale blue eyes stared out seeing everything and nothing at once. The boy's trembling fingers carefully closed his master's eyes for the last time. "I try but it never goes away."

Without a sound, the shadow tried to engulf the sad boy. "It is time for your training to begin, Padawan," the beast hissed. From the sea of black that was the monster, the blood red glow appeared again as the beast swung the lightsaber slicing through the invisible fabric of Bali's dream world.

The wounded whiteness began to bleed.

Do not cry out. Don't scream. It's just a nightmare.

Do not wake up Master, he does not need to know.

"No," Bali wept as he withdrew trying to keep a step ahead of the flowing blood. "Please don't."

"Come little padawan, come with me," the shrouded figure seemed the sing. "Your master cannot save you now. I am here to train you."

The boy stepped back and landed his boot in a puddle of blood. He barely had a chance to scream before he tumbled into the liquid, falling through the invisible ground and sinking into watery depths redder than the thousand seas of Oandor.

Bali struggled to find a ledge to grab onto and pull himself from the water.

The black shrouded figure loomed above him.

"No," Bali sputtered, coughing to clear his lungs of the poisonous liquid.

A black hand emerged from the shadows and gripped his soaked tunic.

Bali shrieked as he was violently ripped from the pool.

"Padawan?"

Not again!

Bali screamed as he fought against the powerful grip that held him prisoner. "No!"

Padawan!

A frightened cry broke as Bali's dampened bright green eyes snapped open. He surged forward out from under his covers. Small, but terror strengthened arms wrapped tight around Obi-Wan's neck. "Master!" he cried out.

Gently Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the trembling, sweat soaked figure of his apprentice. "It was just a nightmare," he said softly.

"It said it was my new master," Bali cried as he desperately clung to the folds of Obi-Wan's cloak. "Said I could not run. Itit killed–"

"Shh. It will be all right, Padawan."

______________________

Book of Flesh and Bone Part V

Obi-Wan's thoughts were fuzzy. He struggled against the dullness that had settled in his brain. The stun bolt had yet to wear off. He pulled at his bindings only to discover strong arms held him in place.

Blurry vision stared down at the grated landing platform.

"Ighista, no!" Halla screamed as she threw herself forward only to be caught in her husband's tight grip.

The Jedi raised his head at the sound of her voice, glancing around until he saw the hazy blue shape that was her cloak twisting against a dark dressed figure.

The fear in her voice was jarring to the dazed knight.

"No! You said–"

"I said what?" Trocha growled and tossed the young woman back toward the burning remains of Obi-Wan's small transport. Coldness laced Trocha's voice, "If you know what is good for you, you will get on my ship now."

"But–"

With lightening quick speed, Trocha smacked Halla across the face eliciting a cry of pain as she stumbled backward, falling to the platform. "Do not test me, my traitorous wife."

Obi-Wan pulled dully at his bonds but was held in place. He had to do something but the stun bolt had short-circuited his ability to react.

The woman shrank away.

The warning was strong in Trocha's voice. "Do as I say unless you want to watch?"

Halla sat up from where she had been thrown. She had started to argue but hesitated then her trembling lips tightened. Her gaze swept across the landing platform, focusing on Obi-Wan.

Do as he says. The knight did not know if she heard him or not but hoped that she was smart enough to obey.

"Please," she begged.

Trocha ignored her, instead turning his attention on Obi-Wan. "He may be stunned, but he is still dangerous."

The clack of a blaster rifle thundered in Obi-Wan's right ear as one of the three men holding him pressed it to the side of his head. The other two tightened their grip on his arms, cruelly twisting them behind his back.

The former Jedi turned his attention to the body of Qin Luc. "You are very good, Knight Kenobi. My people could not find her in weeks and you did within days of arriving. I should have known that would not be all you would find."

Obi-Wan shifted against his bindings. He was quickly pushing the daze away becoming more focused on what was happening around him. Three men, Trocha and Halla were on the platform. There was another nearby but he could not tell their disposition.

Halla was not moving and it made Obi-Wan nervous. He was afraid that Trocha would become further incensed by her disobedience.

From his well-cut gentlemen's jacket, Trocha revealed a lightsaber.

The knight visibly tensed.

"What? Did you think I could not build a new one after I turned the other over to the Council?"

Obi-Wan said nothing. His gaze swept from Trocha to Halla in the background.

The action was met with a dark look from the Master Healer causing Obi-Wan to reign in his concerned gaze for fear of the danger he was placing Halla in.

"Please, Ighista," Halla continued to beg softly.

She was still ignored as Trocha activated the glowing green blade of his weapon. "My wife," he began as he approached, "is a soft hearted soul. She thought she would save you."

"Master Trocha–"

"You have seen too much." There was a long hesitation. "Besides," anger echoed in his voice, "I know all about you and my wife."

The older man's words startled Obi-Wan. "Nothing–"

The blaster muzzle dug into the flesh of his right temple bringing a small wince as he tried to focus on the anger he sensed radiating of the other man.

"In the beginning it was just business." With careful expertise, he brought the tip of the green blade to hover just before the knight's heart. "But to see what my wife would risk just for your safety it became personal."

"Master Trocha–"

"I am finished with this!" The former Jedi surged forward to strike a deathblow.

"No!" Halla shrieked.

Obi-Wan bucked against his captors.

An invisible hand reached out and struck Trocha, the older man was thrown violently across the durasteel platform. His lightsaber loosened from his grip, it rolled harmlessly away.

The knight twisted to see Halla standing there, her hand still outstretched. Eyes wide in fear. She turned sharply toward the imprisoned knight and slammed the armed guard with another powerful Force push sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

Before the warning could even manifest itself, Obi-Wan was blinded in a bright orange flash.

Halla screamed.

A void suddenly opened up in Obi-Wan's mind. His balance was temporarily robbed of him as he watched Halla fall lifelessly to the durasteel platform.

Before Trocha could turn the small blaster on the knight, Obi-Wan reacted. He twisted, violently tossing his remaining captors loose.

Another bright flash of orange slammed into one of the men and Obi-Wan Force pushed the other, knocking him out against the wall.

Blue flashed as he activated his lightsaber deflecting the blaster shots aimed at him.

Trocha furiously continued to fire as the knight lunged forward.

____________________

The Book of the Concerned Master

Morning burned through the high, filtered windows that protected the massive meditation garden. Its warm glow cast a purifying light over the myriad vegetation.

At the golden touch, the multicolored tuka flowers burst open, fanning their sweet scent throughout the garden.

A small, green hand reached out and cradled bright blue petals. Yoda breathed in the fresh smell of morning and sighed with content. The gimer stick tapped lightly over the smooth pebble path on his way to his favorite meditation spot.

The day, as so many had become, promised to bring much strife and to try his nearly infinite patience. The Force had been calling to him, warning him that something was terribly wrong and yet even a clue to its source remained elusive.

It had left him terribly concerned and in some ways frustrated. The whispers had been so prominent and yet he was denied the most basic answer.

The little master came to a sudden stop on the gently sloping grass and stared into the very occupied meditation spot.

"Taking up space, someone always is," Yoda grumbled as he approached the quiet figure. He paid the meditating Obi-Wan little attention until after he had found a comfortable spot in the thick grass. "Hmm, not eating breakfast with your padawan are you?"

"He is spending it with friends."

"Lonely you are? Working, is Bant?" The little master chuckled.

Obi-Wan gave a slight frown and then replied so softly as not to disturb the peace of the garden, "Not quite, Master."

"Concerned you are," Yoda said thoughtfully, seeing the weariness in the young man's eyes. It seemed more prominent than usual.

"Bali's nightmares–if that is what they are–seem to be getting worse."

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that the young master would seek advice on the child. The apprentice had become a mission more important that anything to Obi-Wan. A part of Yoda had been apprehensive about introducing the child to the wounded knight but the Force demanded it. Its own will orchestrating the first meeting between future master and padawan. If that had not been a sign to the ancient master, he did not know what was.

"Hmm," Yoda said thoughtfully.

Obi-Wan's eyes betrayed him with the unabated worry that clung to the pale edges. Wiping a hand miserably over his tired face, Obi-Wan spoke after a long silence. "I keep telling him that they are just nightmares." He shook his head. "It seems they just keep getting worse." For a time Obi-Wan just studied Yoda's sleepy expression. "I think whatever Master Spex had told him has made them worse."

That was not what the little master wanted to hear. He struggled not to show any concern that would further upset Obi-Wan.

"I do not want to dismiss them as nothing if they really are not."

"Spoken to the boy, have you?"

"He does not want to discuss them."

"Hmm. Investigate this I will," Yoda said firmly for the young master's sake. "Nightmares, children have," he said softly. "Worry to much, we can over nothing."

"Yes, I do worry," Obi-Wan admitted, "because I know it cannot be nothing to wake him in tears. Am I wrong?"

"No." It was spoken quick and firm leaving no room for doubt. "Concerned I would be if you were not worried enough."

Obi-Wan shifted slightly, his gaze sought the distant yawen tree that he found comfort under. "I often wonder if I am doing Bali justice with his training."

"Doubt yourself, you should not." Yoda thought for a moment. "Know the boy is happy. No longer the frightened initiate. Know, I do, his instructors have seen excellent changes." Yet, he still saw the worry in Obi-Wan, it was a strong emotion that the young knight could not entirely conceal. The little green master placed a small, green hand on Obi-Wan's arm. "Know this I do, with your help, a Jedi knight he will be. A destiny he would not have otherwise."

Obi-Wan gave a small smile. Then the frown returned. "Master, I need to get away from this work for the Chancellor. These are not missions for a child."

"Expect Bali to learn in the Temple what must be learned in the field?" He was all too aware of Obi-Wan's fears for the boy's safety. And yet, Yoda had seen the little padawan who had a very rough start in life bloom under Obi-Wan's training. Bali was not as helpless as he may seem.

"Master–"

"Agree," the ancient master said quickly cutting off the argument, "different missions you need. Release you from the Chancellor's call, I will see too."

"Thank you, Master." As if aware of his intrusion of the little master's time, he stood up, and stepped from Yoda's meditation spot.

"Hmm. Tall you are, forgotten I have." Yoda craned his neck to look up at the young master. "Child you are no more."

"I have not been a child in a very long time," Obi-Wan said bitterly as he pulled at the edges of his cloak.

Yoda's ears drooped slightly. Gently casting out on the Force, the small master sought Obi-Wan's aura. He felt the clinging illness that seemed more prominent than usual. Sensed a deep weariness that seemed to be stealing away the life of the man before him. Sheltered behind physical illness he sensed another wound that had been there long before Obi-Wan had every confronted a Sith. "Blame me, you still do," Yoda said softly.

Surprised danced in Obi-Wan's eyes. "No, Master." He pulled the cloak tight. "I understand why you did what you did. I just wishI wish I had known before."

Yoda stifled a frown. "Had you known, left the Order would you?"

Obi-Wan did not immediately answer.

"Dangerous, it was not meant to be," Yoda answered coolly. "Unforeseen it was."

After a moment, Obi-Wan shook his head. "It is the past and we can do nothing to change it." His gaze sought the yawen tree that he and his apprentice had meditated beneath many times. "The only thing I care about now is my padawan's training."

"Good for him, you are."

"No, Master," Obi-Wan said softly. "He is good for me. He has kept me alive."

______________________

The Book of the Master and Padawan III

"And then Master Yabro said thatthat I did well in mymy modern history paper," an excited little voice echoed through the massive corridor of the Jedi Temple.

"That is very good, Padawan," Obi-Wan said gently, pulling his hand free of the billowing cloak sleeves and placed it firmly to the wiggling eight-year-old's shoulder. "Slow down. You have plenty of time to tell me about your day."

Bali stilled and walked more calmly along side his master. "Yes, Master." He was quiet for a time before looking up at his master. "I passed a test too."

"Very good, Padawan." He offered up the dark haired boy a smile. Then as soon as they were out of range of prying eyes, he brushed his fingers through the short spikes.

"Master," the boy half giggled and half complained as he adjusted his hair. Childish laughter filled the vast corridor. "It was the first test I ever passed."

"Ever?"

"Ever." Then the little eight-year-old paused to think for a moment. "Well, at least in a long time." Bright green eyes reflected the joy of the simple accomplishment.

For that, Obi-Wan could not help but to grin back at the apprentice who nearly skipped in his need to keep caught up with his master's long strides. Yet the boy never complained. Still he was going to have to learn to slow, he was going to wear the little boy out.

They paused at a busy juncture to allow a group of five-year-olds to pass. The children eyed Bali; some waved with familiarity, almost all possessed the sense of awe that one so near their age had become a padawan. Bali twisted slightly to better display the small, ginger braid that hung behind his right ear.

Obi-Wan recognized the pride at being a padawan. He had felt that way once too. He could not fault the boy, being a padawan was still quite new to him, after all, it had only been a two months, but it was long enough to know that this was right. And not a moment too soon, for his battered spirit would not have lasted much longer.

His fingers brushed down the boy's chestnut cloaked back and urged him forward toward the cafeteria for an evening meal.

"When do you think you are going to try cooking again, Master?" Bali asked softly as the smell of food wafted through the corridor.

"You really want to do that again?"

Bali shrugged. "It wasn't so bad after I cut all the black stuff off of it."

"There was not much left either."

The apprentice giggled. "It lasted a long time because it was so hard to chew."

"You really did not have to eat it."

Bali grinned and started to say something but stopped.

The master followed his padawan's gaze, stopping at Master Mace and waiting in the corridor. His expression was solemn as he motioned them into a private conference room.

At first, Obi-Wan just stood there. Somehow, he knew this meeting would soon interrupt his life. He was not ready to face the demand.

"What is going on?" Bali whispered.

"Master Mace just wants to have a talk with me." He could feel the fear that he had spent his life keeping away from rise uncontrollably inside. "Why don't you go ahead to the cafeteria, I am sure you are hungry."

"I want to stay," Bali replied.

Obi-Wan looked at the boy curiously but saw no fear in the bright green eyes. Maybe it would make it easier. He would not fight it if Bali was standing there. Offering the boy a gentle nod, he led them into the conference room. "He choses to stay," the younger master said, answering the question before it was even asked.

"Very well." Mace then shut the door behind them.

The room was slightly larger than the Council chamber but semi circle. The curved wall was lined with wide windows giving a panoramic view of the Temple dock. Not one of the most pleasing views but at least the natural, Coruscant light was still burning across the sky.

Yoda sat perched on one of the deep red bench seats and was quietly studying the new master and padawan. "Come, come," the little master insisted, "the boy is hungry. Get this over with, we should."

Obi-Wan and Bali stood between the semi-circle of benches and waited until Mace had taken his place near Yoda.

"This is rather informal," Obi-Wan said carefully.

"If you prefer we can drag you before a full Council inquiry," Mace responded.

"No, this is fine." No, it was not. He was not ready for this.

Bali carefully stepped a little closer to Obi-Wan's side.

Yoda's large eyes took silent note of the action. "Concerned you are, little one?"

Doubt fluttered across Bali's features. "Yes, Master," he said as he nodded.

Obi-Wan quietly studied the small apprentice, who stood right at the edge of his cloak hem. Then he turned his gaze to the two waiting Masters.

Both councillors' attentions were focused on Bali.

Mace spoke evenly, "How are your studies, Padawan Tiro." He drew a particular attention to the boy's title.

"I passed a test today," Bali said, the chipper tone returning to his voice. "The first one in a long time."

Mace quirked an eyebrow and then smiled warmly. "That is excellent."

"Master helped me study," Bali added.

"Good master, he is?" Yoda asked.

Bali nodded in excitement. "Yes, Master."

Yoda slipped from the cushioned bench and approached the apprentice. "Come, child. Evening approaches, we will watch."

At first, Bali looked back worriedly, but a gentle nod from Obi-Wan sent the boy after the little green master who led him to the expansive windows.

The apprentice's eyes brightened when he saw a large Corellian freighter lift off in the distance. Its bulk did nothing to tarnish the graceful control of the pilot who maneuvered the hulking craft through the traffic.

Obi-Wan just watched Yoda entertain the eight-year-old. Then slowly, he turned his attention back to Mace, who silently waited. "Master."

"You will seek the care of a mind healer." There was no hesitation or playing around the subject. It was not a suggestion but a demand.

"I do not–"

"I don't particularly care what you want," Mace said coolly.

Obi-Wan straightened slightly. "I will not."

Mace seemed oblivious to the younger man's statement. "Now, I admit," the tall master began as he leaned forward to rest an elbow on his knee, "that we were quite unsuccessful in forcing you into a healer's office–"

"You still are." He would not waver in this. No mind healer, ever.

Mace eyed him warily. "Oh, I don't think we will have much trouble this time." He twisted slightly to watch the soft conversation between Yoda and Bali.

Obi-Wan shifted, folding his arms across the chest. He knew they would try again. "This is blackmail." He just did not know Bali was the ransom. "I will not," he repeated.

"You know as well as I do, every padawan–especially one as young as Bali–needs a stable environment to thrive in. The Temple may be the walls, but a master is the foundation. Before, when you were the only one at stake, we could do little to get you to seek help. When a child is at stake it is required." There was a long silence as Mace drew his attention back to Obi-Wan. "The only way out of this is to relinquish the training bond."

Obi-Wan said nothing.

"Master Lorus Anell with be expecting you in his office at the tenth hour, tomorrow."

Feeling particularly cold, Obi-Wan wrapped himself in the edges of his cloak. "You cannot do this."

"I can, by agreement of the Council. Would you like to stand before them and explain why you have ignored entreaties from the mind healers? It would be interesting to hear your excuse."

"I will not," Obi-Wan argued.

"Nor will I listen. You have no place to argue with us. The Council will no longer tolerate it. Not when a child is involved. Tenth hour tomorrow be at Lorus' office or deliver the boy back to the initiate housing."

Without a word spoken, Yoda turned and led the boy back his master's side. A few brief courtesies and the two masters left.

Obi-Wan sank to the bench. His head hurt at the thought of facing a mind healer. He did not need one. Burying his face in his hands, the young master struggled to control the rage of emotions welling inside of him.

Master Lorus was not just a mind healer, but also the overseer of master/padawan relationships. The Mon Calamari was Bant's social opposite. It always left him to wonder if they were actually the same species. He took care of the more troubled relationships.

Once it had even been suggested he and his master seek Lorus' help after Naboo, but everything fell apart and then there was no master/padawan team to be concerned about. It was just he. Alone.

The worry rose in tides and Obi-Wan started at the soft shuffle of footsteps across the marble floor.

Bali froze. Bright green eyes stared worriedly at him. "Are you okay, Master?"

"Of course," he said quickly then sat there quietly. "No, not really. No."

The apprentice drew close and with no prompting, sat down on the bench next to his master. Little fingers twisted nervously around one another as they boy struggled not to fidget.

"Master Yoda said that Master Mace had to talk about something really important and that it would upset you."

Obi-Wan straightened. "He did?" Blast that troll for bringing Bali into this.

Bali nodded.

"He's right," Obi-Wan sighed, "it did."

"Oh." The body struggled to still himself before turning bright green eyes toward the master. "Was it about me?" Before Obi-Wan could answer, Bali continued. "Am I not good enough to be a padawan?"

The boy seemed so small sitting there on the bench. He took his gaze away and stared out the vast window.

Lorus temporarily forgotten, Obi-Wan turned his complete attention on the apprentice. "Why would you think that?"

Bali wiggled slightly before dropping his gaze to his uncontrollably kicking feet. "Some of the kids say I am not smart enough to be a Jedi and I should be shipped off to the AgriCorps. They say I do not deserve to be a padawan."

At the reminder of his near fate, Obi-Wan bristled. Reaching out gently, he pressed the tip of his forefinger to the little boy's pale forehead. "A Jedi is not merely what is in here." He ran his finger over the tip of Bali's nose dropping it to press just above the little boy's heart. "A Jedi is what is in here." Noting the confusion on Bali's face, he continued. "You cannot exist without the other and your heart more than makes up for being a little bit behind." He offered up a warm smile. "You would not be here if they did not think you worthy of being a Jedi."

Worry fluttered across Bali's small features. "Then why are you upset?"

"I might not be good enough to be your master," Obi-Wan sighed.

Bali leaned back slightly, obviously not understanding. "You are a good master."

"It is not that easy, Padawan." He did not want to face Lorus Anell. He did not want the past dredged up. It had been buried for a reason.

"But you are a good master," Bali repeated.

"I cannot train you if I cannot even control my own fears."

"Oh."

I will not go, the master decided. He would not let his past hurt him again. He could do nothing to change it, so why dwell on it? Could not the Council just let it lie? It would change nothing. The damage was long done and thick scars covered the wounds.

I will not go.

Anger bubbled deep within for being such a coward.

It was the past, what possible reason would be benefited by reliving it?

Concerned thoughts scampered at the edge of the training bond. A training bond he had no control to stop. It burst into existence unwanted.

So unwanted that he did not want to go without it.

So unwanted that without it, he feared he would not survive the emptiness.

"It is okay, Master." Bali said softly. "I understand." He stood up from the bench and stared out the window for a moment. He smiled, although his bright green eyes glistened in the light. "I am afraid of a lot of things even though I know I am not supposed to be. Sometimes I do not do things I am supposed to do because I am afraid."

Obi-Wan could feel the bond retreat a little.

In Bali's eyes, Obi-Wan saw the happy eight-year-old vanish as calm acceptance flowed over the small features.

Bali had felt every thought, every moment of doubt. He had felt the fear and certainly knew the rejection. His master was so afraid of a mind healer that he would turn his back on the little padawan.

"Not a very good example, am I." Obi-Wan asked softly.

Of course, Bali did not understand. He could not.

He would not be allowed to know abandonment.

"I am afraid," Obi-Wan whispered.

"I am always afraid," Bali replied, wrapping his small arms around his master's neck.

"Something we need to work on." Not at the moment, though. He bound the small figure in the fold of his cloak and just held on for fear of losing the boy.

_______________

The Book of Learning

A dull ache moved from the base of Bali's skull to the front leaving his brain feeling mushy. He stared blankly at the class work laid out on the desk in front of him. Determined to finish his work he leaned forward and focused on the problem solving assignment.

Frustration knitted the thirteen-year-old's brows as he struggled with the problem. He pushed the data pad back slightly then drew it back toward him for another attempt. It was not long before he violently shoved his studies off the side of the desk.

He never got the answer, the right one. His work was always wrong.

With every passing day, the work became more complex. Even with his master's help, he was still falling behind. Groaning softly, Bali slumped forward and smashed his forehead against his desktop.

"Are you trying to break the desk?" Obi-Wan asked dryly from the doorway.

"Sorry, Master," the apprentice mumbled from his face down position. Then slowly raised his head and dropped it back to the desk. "I like to see stars."

"Wait until this evening then." The master walked across the small room in a few short steps and peeled Bali's head back from the smooth blue desktop. "Housing does not like it when we break furniture. Nor do I want you looking like I beat you up."

"No, you just beat me in saber practice."

"Which is to be expected, Padawan." He pulled the boy's head back and rubbed the red oblong cast against the pale forehead. "I do not think smashing your head against the desk is going to help you with your studies."

"But it makes it more interesting," Bali said.

Gentle laughter filled the small room as Obi-Wan gathered up the discarded data pad, reader and chips. Then curled up on the sleep couch next to the desk. He studied the boy's unhappy face before sliding the work back across the desk.

Bali adjusted the placement of the items but did not attempt to return to his studies.

"What are you working on?"

A loud sigh escaped the dark haired apprentice as he made a face. Roughly he brought up the assignment and slid it across the desk to Obi-Wan. "One of those awful word problems assigned by Master Renu."

Obi-Wan took up the pad and started reading.

In the ensuing silence, Bali returned to his face down position on the desk. Then he remembered his run in earlier in the day. He reached to the back of his desk and grabbed a strange, green fruit and shoved it toward the older Jedi. "From Healer Bant, with love."

"With love?"

"Her words, not mine."

Curiously studying the strange fruit, Obi-Wan finally picked it up and twisted it around in his hand. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Eat it. At least that is what I do."

"It is green," the master grimaced, "and hairy."

"Very sweet too." Bali sat up again. A great, oblong red mark still glowed in the center of his forehead.

Absently Obi-Wan reached out and rubbed the mark again. "That is an unbecoming look on you, Padawan."

Bali giggled his headache beginning to fade. "Healer Bant said if you don't eat it she is going to tell me about the time you fell in the pond."

The fruit crunched as Obi-Wan bit into the juicy green object. "She will tell you anyway regardless of what I do."

"She does not think you are eating well enough." He noted the look of worry flutter across his master's usually staid face.

As if suddenly aware of the awkward silence, Obi-Wan replied, "You eat enough for the both of us." The odd green fruit crunched loudly as he turned his attention back to the data pad.

"I don't know why I have to learn all these problem solving questions," the apprentice grumbled. "Why will I ever need to know if two Bothan's are on a transport going–"

"These questions are no different than what we face on our missions, Padawan. You are just not looking at them in the right frame of mind."

Bali shook his head. "I do not understand." Those four little words always opened the door to help and explanation.

"Think of some of our recent missions. For example, yesterday when we investigated Senator Zucha's death. Or the death of Senator Irisi a few months ago. What do they have in common?"

"They both died terribly." Bali had seen several deaths in his short life but the two dead senators were by far the most disturbing. Oddly enough though, it was not the deaths themselves and maybe not even how they died, but rather that there was something very unsettling about the scene. He did not know what it was but it set his master on edge.

"Yes. And?" Obi-Wan gently pushed.

Drawn back to the moment, Bali concentrated on the question. He thought of the two deaths, neither of which his master had been too keen on letting him get close to. His face brightened as the thought leapt into existence. "They both had their hearts cut out."

"Correct." Obi-Wan paused to bite off another chunk of the fruit. "Their deaths were similar to eight other assassinations."

The apprentice grinned as the lesson was about something he knew. They had recently studied it in his current events class. "The assassinations which is causing a political upheaval." At least that was what Master Cer'li had said.

The master frowned slightly. "That is part of it." He then finished off the fruit. "What else do they have in common?"

"They all had their hearts cut out."

Obi-Wan nodded. "And that means?"

"They were killed by the same person."

"Or group. Whoever is behind it is motivated and has the ability to get in and out of situations unseen. They are well funded." His attention returned to the data pad.

At first, Bali was quiet as he considered something else he had learned in class. Carefully he looked over at his master, who was always wrapped in his heavy cloak. "They were all involved in the trial against the Neimodians."

Immediately he had his master's undivided attention. "What?"

Bali squirmed slightly, concerned that he had made an error, but his master's understanding gaze told him otherwise.

"In my recent events class," he began slowly. "We had a chapter on the trial against the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo. Senator Irisi and Zucha were involved in the trial." The boy noted the master's withdrawn expression. Quickly Bali searched through his work for the data chip containing the information on the chapter. He loaded it into the reader and handed it to his master. "The other senators that were assassinated were a part of the trial on one side or the other." He paused to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Visually he could not tell how his master was taking the information. Bali really was not even sure Obi-Wan believed him. "Irisi and Zucha and at least a few of the other dead senators were the ones instrumental in the dismantling of the clone factory on Xim. Master Cer'li said that they were trying to cover up for the fact that they had been sympathetic to the Trade Federation when they invaded Naboo. And that it looked bad when the Trade Federation was financially backing the clone factory. She said they were trying to politically redeem themselves."

The apprentice stopped for a moment as confusion glossed his features. "I thought the Neimodian's were not allowed to build a new army?"

"Not a droid army," Obi-Wan said absently. Then he laid the pad down and stared at the boy for a long time. "How did you figure this out?"

Bali shrugged. His master was quiet and that worried him. He knew, as it was no secret, that Obi-Wan had been instrumental in both events. "I just remembered Zucha's name when we investigated his death. We just had that section in class."

The Jedi master studied the pad as he quickly scrolled through the information. He mumbled out loud, "The League. Trade Federation."

The apprentice quietly studied the figure next to him. Mention of the Trade Federation always seemed to bring sadness to the older man. Bali didn't quite understand. In his current events class, they had prefaced the chapter on the trade Federation trial with the invasion of Naboo. The emergence of the Sith and the battle. He remembered how all eyes fell to him as if he were going to tell them all about the battle with some secret story his master had saved just for him. The truth was, Master Kenobi rarely spoke of the battle and then only after a great deal of pressing. There was nothing though that could persuade him to speak of the actual fight with the Sith. Or what happened afterwards.

Now that Bali had a chance to think about it. Just a day ago, he had stood before the Naboo who was Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, a man who once was Senator and was driven into the position because of sympathies against the blockade. Well, at least that was what Master Cer'li had said in class. Bali now realized that he had stood in the same room with the Chancellor and the Senator of Naboo–the former queen that had lead the battle against the Trade Federations forces. The other Jedi in the room, now that he knew was his master's master, was the Jedi master sent to force an end to the blockade. Bali looked over at Obi-Wan. His master had still been an apprentice then.

A padawan learner the day he faced and battled the Sith.

Obi-Wan straightened. "Senator Amidala."

"Master?"

"She backed the motion to destroy the cloning facility." He was on his feet and halfway across the room. "Get ready."

"Yes, Master." Bali quickly pulled his cloak on and made sure his lightsaber was with him. He jogged into the front room and found his master at the comm finishing a message.

"Keep trying to contact them. We are on our way."

____________________

The Book of Plans

Soft footsteps moved through the corridor from the private section of Padmé's official Coruscant residence into the public office. Her gaze swept through the intricately detailed glass that separated the office from the informal common area.

At first, she caught sight of her reflection in the transparent wall. Carefully she straightened the edges of the fitted blue coat that wafted just above the floor. She was dressed simply in a loose fitting pale blue shirt and dark blue leggings. Briefly, she noted a scuff on one of the black boots. There was something unsettling and she did know what it was and thought she should be ready for anything.

Noting the towering Jedi Master near the sun kissed windows she turned her attention to the blinking light on the comm unit built into her desk. Absently, she reviewed her messages but her gaze returned to the older man.

There was no message from Bail Organa. Making herself focus, she studied the list of messages again just to be certain she had not missed one. Frustration welled in her as she had hoped he would keep her up to date on the proceedings of the negotiations. Still, the Senator knew she should have faith in him, he was a great diplomat and he would contact her when time was good. She would be one of the firsts to know if there was a problem.

She should not worry.

Telling and believing were two different things and Chancellor Palpatine had not responded to her plan as warmly as she would have hoped. It brought an unwelcome sense of concern that she had not expected. Irisi had nearly brought the negotiations to fruition but his death forced her into a more active role. The Aveniar did not trust her. After all the work she had done, they still were not willing to give the go ahead if she lead the convoy. It was only the suggestion that Senator Organa go that they seemed willing.

Negotiation was their only hope as civil war loomed on the horizon. She prayed that Bail was successful.

Messages played as she sank to the chair behind the elegant desk carved from a great golden yarel. There was absolutely nothing of importance in any of the messages. All they did was confirm business meetings and invites to various social events around the city planet. Padmé growled softly at the thought of the politicians partying in grand ballrooms as the Republic was tearing itself apart.

Her anger immediately dissipated at the appearance of the hazy image of Jira Thelo. Startled, Padmé quickly paused the message. Leaning against the finely carved wood of the desk, she gazed at the imposing figure of Qui-Gon Jinn. He seemed to glow in the bright morning light.

Certain his attention was not on her, Padmé carefully adjusted the sound setting and moved to block the holoimage from Qui-Gon's serene gaze.

Leaning a little closer to the static strewn image, she resumed the message.

"Greetings, Senator Amidala," Jira began. The young woman appeared to be dressed in a traditional Naboo travelling dress. Her blond hair was pulled back under a simple red headdress with gold accents. "I have just reached Tatooine and am in search of the woman who owns," there was a slight hesitation and a look of disgust, "Shmi Skywalker." Jira was quiet a moment as her image fluctuated. "With luck we will be returning in a few days." The image broke up and ended.

A little smile danced across Padmé's face before she squashed it. She feared that if she could not control her emotions, the first time she got near Anakin he would sense what she was planning.

The Senator closed the message and filed it away from prying eyes. Then she gathered up a data pad with notes from an earlier meeting. Quietly she entered the common room but made no pretense, as she knew the Jedi master was well aware of her presence.

"Senator," the master said plainly as he nodded a greeting toward her.

"Master Jinn." Padmé hesitated. "I am sure, Master Jedi, that you have other duties to attend to." She straightened slightly gaining a more dignified stance. "The attack was aimed at the Chancellor. There has been no further threat against me and my private guard is sufficient." While she owed her life to this Jedi, she was certain he still looked at her like the handmaiden that had tagged along with him to Mos Espa.

Qui-Gon turned to eye her curiously. "The Chancellor has requested special protection for you, Senator."

"I do not consider myself special," she replied a bit to defensively.

"Senator–"

The Jedi Master grew silent as if he seemed to be studying the air.

________________

The Book of Dangerous Confrontations

Anakin sprinted through the all too quiet corridor of the Senatorial Offices building. He was unable to shake the feeling of dread deep in his bones.

Footsteps thundered as he raced feeling as if he could not get back the Padmé's apartment fast enough. A suffocating darkness seemed to be everywhere and no where at once.

The concern only seized him when he realized the bond between he and his master was blocked. He screamed warnings but knew Qui-Gon was not receiving them.

Something powerful was blocking him.

Even as he ran, he pressed into the Force, it was calling to him. Still, there was something that he couldn't quite place. It was unsettling and dark.

Beckoning to him.

"Master!" The scream ripped through him, no longer able to contain the great fear that was building up in him. The encroaching darkness felt as if it were going to suffocate him. Racing around a corner he skidded to a stop.

Air caught in his lungs as he scrambled back a few steps.

Blocking the corridor was a black shrouded figure. The cloak obscured the form giving the youth little idea what he was truly up against.

The dark Force repelled him.

The heavy black cowl obscured the Sith's face but did nothing to dampen the unnatural voice that echoed throughout the corridor, "Have you come to play with me, Jedi spawn?"

Finding determination in the knowledge the Sith beast stood between he and Padmé, Anakin sprang into action. A flash of bright blue when his lightsaber exploded to life as he threw himself toward the enemy.

Darth Vengier moved just out of reach of the deadly blade causing the cowl to fall back slightly revealing a dull black mask that imitated a human face. "I have no weapon," the dark lord hissed. "I am unarmed. Would you strike me down?"

"You are a Sith!" Anakin barked lashing violently out.

The robes fluttered as Vengier easily ducked and stepped out of the way of the glowing blue blade.

Anakin continued the attack, slashing wildly at the flowing black robes as the figure continued to evade the deadly blows. The young man huffed as strived harder to make contact with the figure. This was an enemy of the Jedi, like the one that had nearly struck his master down on Naboo. One who may have been involved in the Trade Federation's invasion, meaning Padmé was still in danger. This was the assassin that the Supreme Chancellor had ordered him to protect her from.

Vengier's unnatural voice echoed cruel laughter. "Foolish child." A gloved hand appeared from within the folds of the robe and commanded the Force with a simple flick of the wrist. The Force swirled and slammed violently into the young man sending him flying backward.

Anakin screamed the moment he impacted the wall. He dropped his lightsaber as he slid to the floor with a pained groan.

The Sith gracefully reached out and called the weapon to hand. "The child has fashioned a weapon," came the mechanical hiss. The saber activated cutting gracefully through the air. The blue blade cast an eerie glow over the dark folds of Vengier's cloak.

"Come, pup, play with me."

Anakin scrambled backward on the Sith's approach. Visually he searched the hall for a weapon. The light fixtures caught his attention. Drawing on the Force, a low rattle filled the hall.

A menacing glint lit Anakin's eyes.

This creature would not be allowed to harm Padmé.

Tightening his grip on the Force, the fixtures ripped from the walls, flying effortlessly through the air toward the black clad figure.

Vengier moved swiftly, drawing Anakin's lightsaber about, cleanly slicing the projectiles apart before they could do any real damage.

"Is that all you have?" Vengier hissed. The dark lord reached out drawing thumb and forefinger together.

Anakin gasped as the Force closed off the air around his throat. Panic flooded through him. "Stop," he croaked but more words failed him. He could not focus to counter the strangulation.

"Stop what, pup?" Vengier asked. The flowing black robes glided across the dull gray floor of the corridor.

Struggling hard, Anakin could feel the Force pulling at him body and soul. His strength was quickly being depleted. At Vengier's request, the apprentice was wrenched from the floor and held just above its comforting foundation.

"This is the mighty chosen one?" Vengier taunted with cruel laughter. "Come, pup, I expected you to show me a real challenge."

Through blue tinted lips, Anakin croaked, "What do you want?"

"To see you and your Jedi Order die."

The carefully hidden rage burst from its captivity within the young man at the embarrassment of being so easily held prisoner. He was the chosen one after all. He should not be held like a pathetic initiate.

"Wounded pride," the Sith hissed. "I thought the Jedi trained that out of your kind."

Anakin's struggles ceased but his bright blue eyes remained lucid. Purple lips drew into a tight smile. "I wasn't always a Jedi," he barely whispered. With thoughts quicker than reflexes he grasped the full power of the Force and retrieved his lightsaber from Vengier's grasp.

Vengier jerked in surprise as Anakin activated his weapon and drove the Sith back. Still winded he swung hard but left himself open. Vengier took the opportunity and backhanded him sending the youth to the floor with a loud thud.

Again the Sith called the youth's weapon and activated it. Raising the weapon to deliver the deathblow, Vengier hissed, "Good night, little Jedi."

"No!" The scream and the powerful Force push collided simultaneously.

Vengier's feet were swept up in the twirling, twisting power of the Force. Robes fluttered and tangled around the Sith moments before crashing to the floor.

"Why stop me?" Vengier growled.

Qui-Gon threw himself in between his fallen apprentice and the Sith. He clutched the hilt of his lightsaber the blade as a silent warning against bringing more harm to his apprentice.

"Old man," Vengier hissed. Flipping in a tangle of robes the dark lord landed lightly on the tightly woven carpet. Appearing out of nowhere the red glow of a lightsaber cut through the white light of the corridor. "You surprised me, that was the only time. I will kill you as easily as I will kill the sleeping, lovelorn boy."

"This does not concern my padawan."

Wicked laughter echoed through the hall. "He is Jedi and deserves only death." Testing the Jedi Master, Vengier lashed out only to be expertly blocked. "Do you not feel it, Jedi? He was not running to your side, he was seeking to protect the girl."

Qui-Gon stiffened slightly. "He is a Jedi," he threw Vengier's words back.

"Oh yes," Vengier said with a hint of laughter. "Jedi can not know love."

The two fierce figures engaged. The taller man blocked Vengier's attacks.

"Do you think you are saving the boy?" Vengier asked, striking violently at the Jedi master.

"I will not listen to your taunts," Qui-Gon answered between gritted teeth.

Undisturbed, Vengier struck, sending the Jedi master off balance but before delivering the devastating blow Qui-Gon found his composure again and quickly blocked.

While slower than the quick footed Sith, Qui-Gon's experience and calm turned the fight sending Vengier on the defensive.

"Were you never in love, Jedi?" Vengier asked between strikes.

Still, Qui-Gon did not answer as he continued to drive the Sith down the hall and away from the still unconscious Anakin.

"Were you never betrayed by the one you loved?"

_____________________

The Book of Electrifying Scenes

Master Jinn had told her to stay put, that her private guard would protect her. The same private guard she had been so certain minutes ago was sufficient. So why did she feel so afraid?

At her desk, she found the hidden compartment that stored a small blaster. It felt good in her grip, easing a little of the tensions that had built up. Deciding that she did not want to get trapped in the confines of her office and quickly moved to the common room where she could maneuver if need be.

In the center of the room she stopped and twisted around. A chill wrapped itself around her. She tugged on her jacket searching for warmth and twisted around half expecting a pair of eyes to be on her but found that she was still alone. Nervously she reached up and rubbed her fingers over that japor snippet hidden under the layers of clothing.

"Foolish child."

Padmé spun, horrified to find a figure standing in the middle of the room where it had not been moments before. "Who are you?" She demanded of the black robed figure.

A creaky laugh and a cultured tone filled the room. "I am the one whose plans you are disrupting with your little negotiations." Cruel, pale lips shown beneath the low hanging hood.

The young Senator withdrew. Tightening her grip on the small blaster she quickly raised it and fired several quick shots. A pale white hand raised from within the folds of the robe taking the bolts. They snapped harmlessly against Darth Sidious' palm. With the slightest motion, he called the blaster from Padmé sending it flying across the room.

Padmé screamed as she stumbled backward searching for her discarded weapon.

"Oh, do you think you are going to harm me?" Sidious mocked. "You have been nothing but trouble."

"These are protected–"

"Your Jedi friends are detained by my protégé."

Padmé's heart sank. Still, she withdrew slightly searching for an escape route.

"You cannot run."

"Who are you?" She demanded, still searching the room.

Sidious smiled as he approached. "Your executioner." Light flickered in the Sith's eyes as he raised his hands. Blue light arced from his fingertips.

Padmé shrieked in pain as the bolts of Force lightning struck her. She made a step before falling to the floor. Terror filled cries ripped through her as jolt after jolt hit her sending her in to violent convulsions.

"Die, my pretty little troublemaker," Sidious laughed cruelly.

The cries came unabated, the pain too much for her to fight against the terrible assault.

The door to her apartment burst open and Bali Tiro bolted into the room. The pale violet of his lightsaber led the way as he barrelled toward the fallen woman.

Sidious stopped the attack studying the determined boy. "Another Jedi?"

"Senator?" The boy asked without taking his eyes from the Sith lord.

Padmé groaned weakly.

Bali turned back toward Sidious. Fear flashed in his green eyes but was quickly subdued under a mask of calm.

"Brave little boy," Sidious crooned. "Do you think you can stop me?"

"No, I am only here to save her."

The boy reached back blindly and grabbed Padmé's singed arm. "Are you okay?"

Padmé responded with a weak groan.

"You have got to get to your feet," Bali urged.

"I think not," Sidious hissed as more bolts shot from his fingertips striking Bali, sending the small apprentice flying across the room with a pained cry. Sidious focused on the youth, striking him repeatedly with the Force lightning. Bali screamed and writhed in pain. "Die, foolish–"

The last word was caught as the glowing brilliance of a pale blue lightsaber cut through the layers of the Sith's robe.

"Get the Senator out of here!" Obi-Wan barked to his apprentice.

Still stunned, Padmé turned to see the fallen boy struggle to his feet and run to her. Surprisingly strong arms urged her to her feet but her strength was gone and she leaned heavily against the thirteen-year-old for support. She followed the boy's gaze to the dark cloaked figure struggling against the lightsaber that had impaled him.

Bali remained frozen, worry shifting from the Sith to his master.

"Do as I say!" Obi-Wan snapped.

She felt the apprentice nod and led her to safety.

____________________

The Book of Questions

Sabers clashed violently as Qui-Gon drove the Sith through the corridor toward a viewing deck and away from his still unconscious padawan. His muscles were already beginning to ache from the strain but he would not back down.

Vengier ducked and blocked the Jedi master's attack but the older man maintained the advantage.

For his part, Qui-Gon kept the fight steady and intense unwilling to allow the Sith an opening. He could sense desperation in Vengier's fighting style. Unlike the first Sith he had battled back on Naboo, this one was not an expert swordsman.

Still, the dark lord did not make the battle too easy. The walls rattled as Vengier brought the Force to bear and fixtures broke loose of their secure moorings. At the whim of the black clad figure the light fixtures slammed into the elder Jedi Master. So many that he could not deflect them and maintain his attention on the battle. The flying objects viscously battered him.

Qui-Gon pressed, striking at the Sith repeatedly, setting the figure off balance. He raced ahead, forcing Vengier onto the large viewing deck. The transparasteel dome over the deck glinted in the bright sunlight and reflected light from the constant stream of traffic in the distance.

Twisting around, Vengier searched the plain, featureless deck for more projectiles but found none. Unwilling to give up, the Sith lashed out driving Qui-Gon back a few steps and bolted back toward the open doors.

Quickly the Jedi master spied the doors the Sith was heading toward. Reaching out on the Force, Qui-Gon slammed the doors closed and sealed them.

Growling, Vengier turned, seemingly charged with a new energy. "Do you think that will stop me, old man?" the Sith hissed. The bright morning light illuminated the expressionless mask under the hood. A reddish cast danced off the smooth mask as Vengier struck quickly, momentarily driving the other back. "Tell me, Jedi," came the mechanized voice as the blood red blade guaranteed a certain distance between the two warriors. "Do you know what it is to be betrayed by those you cared for?"

Refusing to answer the Sith's taunts, Qui-Gon struck, clipping the black shrouded figure's shoulder. Vengier howled in pain and stumbled backward a few steps. Then, undaunted, the Sith laughed menacingly before returning to the attack. "Have you never betrayed a sacred trust?"

"I will answer you nothing!" Qui-Gon roared as he threw himself at Vengier cutting a deep slice into the Sith's arm.

Reacting violently, Vengier slammed the tall master with a powerful Force push sending him flying across the viewing deck.

With the opening, the Sith quickly turned the glowing red saber on the transparasteel dome. The clear surface melted away as Vengier cut an opening. Gale force winds tore into the deck and whipped through the robes of the two figures. Qui-Gon was on his feet to intercept Vengier but the shrouded figure moved faster.

With one powerful leap the Sith flew out through the hole. Qui-Gon ran to the gaping wound in the dome and stared down. All that remained of the Sith was a billowing, shapeless black spot descending into the shadowed depths of the city planet.

______________________

The Book of Fried Jedi

Sidious stumbled from the shock of seeing the glowing blue brilliance of a lightsaber jutting through his abdomen. It overwhelmed all other conscious thought.

The troublesome Naboo Senator had escaped with the help of Kenobi's pathetic little padawan. Rage swelled within the Sith. His plans had been disrupted, but this meddlesome Jedi would pay.

Just as easily as he had plunged to lightsaber into the dark lord, Obi-Wan withdrew the blade. The bright blue retreated slightly as he brought the weapon back.

Before the Jedi could react, Sidious twisted and boney fingers caught the young master by the throat. He channeled the pain from his wound into the swirling darkness and manifested it as bright flashes of lightning that leapt from his fingertips to the Jedi.

Obi-Wan jerked but Sidious refused to let him break free. He wanted to see the Jedi struggle against his inevitable death. He would bask in the younger man's suffering. "You may have killed my former apprentice, but you will not kill me," Sidious hissed.

The Jedi cried out as he sank to the deep blue carpet. His hand gripped at Sidious' wrist trying to break free of the electrifying situation. He fought to pull away but Sidious would not let go.

The pain rippling through the younger man was intoxicating. So long had there been a desire to see this particular Jedi dead that the Sith wanted to enjoy it.

"You surprise me," Sidious said. "Your will is powerful."

The dark lord could feel Obi-Wan's strength quickly giving away. Good, Sidious' own strength was slowly bleeding away as well. The lightsaber wound was taking its toll and the Sith would have to flee soon or risk becoming compromised. Distracted by the precarious situation, Sidious never noticed the remaining look of determination in Obi-Wan's eyes as he slammed the dark lord's wounded abdomen with his lightsaber hilt.

Sidious howled and stumbled backward. The pain was crippling and it took a great command of the Force to keep from collapsing. By the time the robed figure had recovered, Obi-Wan was back on his feet with his weapon activated.

"I underestimated you," Sidious said calmly. Pale hands jutted out from the billowing black sleeves of the robes. Force lightning twisted and licked pale fingertips as the bluish purple light formed into a great glowing sphere.

The Jedi leapt forward, lashing out at the dark lord. It was all Sidious could do to keep from being impaled a second time as the Sith moved quickly out of reach of the blade's deadly tip.

Releasing the lightning ball, it slammed into Obi-Wan sending the Jedi flying backward and crashing into a small, ornate table like a rag doll. Studying the dazed form, Sidious was ready to be done with it and mercilessly slammed the Jedi with bright arcs of blue dancing from his fingertips.

Obi-Wan cried out but could not escape the attack.

"You have been a thorn in my side for too long," the dark lord growled continuing the attack. The Sith laughed cruelly as wave after wave of Force lightning exploded through the air. "It is a shame to kill you. A powerful ally you could be."

Obi-Wan screamed but still struggled against the jolts that were tearing through him. He reached for the lost saber hilt.

"I cannot let you do that," Sidious replied as the violent attack ceased and called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to him. "I could spare your life," the dark lord hissed and studied the singed figure lying in the midst of the broken table. "Stand at my side and we shall destroy the Jedi together."

All Obi-Wan could manage was a hoarse whisper before his head sank to the broken wood beneath him. "Never."

Unafraid of the trembling, weakened form, Sidious drew close to the Jedi curled up on the floor. A wicked laugh escaped the cowled form. "I am offering you life."

"I would rather die than serve the darkness," Obi-Wan groaned weakly through gritted teeth as the pain remained heavy in his face.

Sidious' lips drew into a tight, evil line. Discarding the Jedi's weapon the Sith gathered the darkness like a shroud and molded another Force lightning ball. The dark lord growled, "So be it."

_______________

The Book of Fear

Qui-Gon cast out, seeking Anakin's presence just a few steps behind him. The boy was still groggy from the blow to the head and he was concerned, but Anakin insisted on racing back to the Naboo senator's apartment.

He could not fault the young man as he too sensed the danger looming just ahead and new their charge was unprotected. Her private guard had been suspiciously absent. Jogging around the corner, Qui-Gon came to a sudden stop. Obi-Wan's apprentice was guiding the dazed and singed visage of Padmé through the corridor.

The Senator leaned heavily against the much smaller thirteen-year-old. Pain reflected in her eyes. "Master Jinn," she stumbled, too weak to carry a full sentence.

Anakin brushed passed his master reaching for the young woman before her strength finally gave out. Bali struggled to keep her from falling but Anakin pulled the injured woman into his arms.

The Jedi master studied both the senator and the boy. "What happened?" he asked quickly, turning his senses toward corridor.

Bali's eyes widened in terror. Without answering, he turned and bolted back toward the apartment. With Force enhanced reflexes, Qui-Gon caught the boy's arm and pulled him back. He noted the singed appearance that Bali shared with Padmé. "What happened?" he demanded a second time.

The little apprentice struggled against Qui-Gon's powerful grip. "This thing!" He cried out, terror filling his eyes as the adrenaline of the rescue quickly wore off. "The darkness. Lightning," he sputtered unable to answer coherently. "Let me go!" The apprentice fought harder as the panic tore through him.

The older man had to work to keep Bali from breaking loose.

"It can't be my fault. Master Spex was wrong! I won't leave him." Bali finally broke free of the large hands that held him and raced down the hall.

"Get her to safety," Qui-Gon barked to his own apprentice and then chased after the boy. The battle with the Sith had taken its toll and he struggled to keep up with the thirteen-year-old. Calling to the Force, he pushed himself ahead, catching Bali's arm just before the apprentice stormed back into the apartment.

Bali cried out as the Jedi master tossed him gently backward. "Stay," he ordered but knew it would barely slow the child down. Lightsaber in hand he plunged into the swirling darkness that had consumed the elegant apartment. He saw a dark shrouded figure and a bright flash of light. His very nerves snapped and sizzled with electricity as his world turned and twisted before slamming into something hard. At first, he thought he had hit the wall but then noted the rough fibers of the tightly woven carpet.

"No!" Bali screamed.

Still dazed, Qui-Gon sensed the Force move.

Bali reached out before Sidious could react and slammed the Sith with a powerful Force push. The black shroud twisted as the dark lord was tossed across the room.

"Master!" Bali called out, automatically throwing his lightsaber toward Obi-Wan who had immediately reacted upon the boy's return.

The younger master reached up and called the weapon; his hand wavered unsteadily before the purple blade flashed to life. Struggling against the broken table and his injuries, Obi-Wan pulled himself to his feet.

Qui-Gon was on guard just a step behind as the two cornered the Sith Master.

Sidious brought a hand up to protect the abdominal wound. "I will not fight both of you," the dark lord hissed. Raising his hand, he willed a powerful Force push that sent Qui-Gon flying backward slamming him hard into Bali. But before he could turn his dark powers on the injured Obi-Wan, the Jedi lunged at him.

The pale violet blade arced gracefully through the air as Obi-Wan brought to bear against Sidious. The saber cut through the shadow and tore into the wall. In shock, Obi-Wan twisted about but the Sith was gone. He kept turning about, searching for the Sith and slashing at the air but finally his strength waned. Trembling fingers lost their hold of the silver cylinder and the saber clattered to the floor.

"Master!" Bali cried out as he crawled over Qui-on and raced to a very unsteady Obi-Wan. He reached out worriedly and grasped his master's arm to keep him from falling over. "Master?"

Slowly Obi-Wan's gaze fell to his apprentice. "I told you to get the Senator to safety," he said slowly. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor with Bali still clutching his cloak to keep him from completely falling over.

"She is safe," Bali argued. "The other padawan took her–"

Obi-Wan grabbed the little boy by the shoulders and shook him. Fear laced Bali's eyes but Obi-Wan did not seem to notice. "You did not do as I ordered," he said sternly.

"Master–"

"No!" Obi-Wan strained to keep his eyes focused on the boy. He shook Bali again, a little rougher this time. "I told you to get the Senator to safety."

Bali withdrew slightly, but could not escape his master's tight hold. Bright green eyes struggled with shame. "The other–"

"I don't care about them. You disobeyed me."

"Master, please." Tears welled in Bali's eyes. "Master–"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently as he sat up. He felt the absolute terror radiating off the apprentice.

"Don't!" The young master said turned dull gray eyes on Qui-Gon.

The tall Jedi master studied his former padawan for a moment. The material of Obi-Wan's cloak and tunic were badly damaged from the Sith's attack. He could only imagine what that had done to the younger man.

"I'm sorry, Master," Bali wept. "I'm sorry." Tears fled down Bali's pale cheeks and he completely broke down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan's eyes closed briefly then fluttered open, struggling to maintain his attention on the weeping boy.

"I'm sorry," Bali sobbed.

"You were not supposed to come back," Obi-Wan said harshly. "You were supposed to take the Senator to safety."

"I'm sorry."

"How can I trust you if you–"

"No, no, Master. Don't," Bali wailed, clinging to the sleeves of Obi-Wan's cloak.

Obi-Wan's breathing had grown shallow as he struggled to remain focused. The adrenaline rush gone, his voice was hoarse and showed his weariness. "How can I protect you if you won't listen to me?"

"Master Spex said," Bali threw himself forward breaking his master's weakened grip and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's chest, "if I didn't stay with you the Sith would kill you." The small apprentice buried his face against his master's singed tunic. "I don't want you to die. I had to come back. I could not leave you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan brushed his fingers through Bali's damp, spiked hair. His hand slipped down to rest on the trembling shoulder. "It will be all right," he mumbled.

"Master?" Bali asked, loosening his grip slightly Obi-Wan fell backward onto the broken table. "Master!"

Qui-Gon was moving even before Obi-Wan began his fall but he was not quick enough. His bruised body no longer maintained the resilience of his youth. Still he was at the fallen Jedi's side in a flash. Rough, callused fingers quickly sought out a faint pulse along the younger master's neck allowing him to breathe a momentary sigh of relief. Without hesitation, he made an emergency call to the Temple's healing center.

Then slowly, his attention fell to the worried apprentice desperately clutching Obi-Wan's hand. "I'm here, Master. I will not leave you." Bali repeated the short sentences like a mantra as he rocked nervously. "You will to be all right."