The Book of Whispers

Bali's feet swung just above the tiled floor. He leaned back in the chair and sighed as he dully watched the constant movement of his feet. Nervous fingers lightly toyed with the edge of his singed cloak. He was happier back in his own clothing, even if the cloak smelled like some of his master's cooking.

Bant had deemed him well enough to go back to his apartment. He had looked forward to sleeping in his own bed, but when he got there he was still so worried about his master he barely slept a wink. Master Windu had sat in the common room meditating or reading through the night.

The tall master–who claimed to be an excellent chef–was going to cook breakfast but there was little food in the apartment so they opted to eat in the cafeteria instead. After a semi normal morning routine, it ended when he did not go to class. Mace had explained to him that he needed to answer a few more questions about the Sith attack.

He had answered a lot of questions and all through the questioning, he had dearly wished that his own master were there to stand with him. Mace had assured him that he had done nothing wrong but they needed the information and could not put it off until his master was well enough to answer.

Mercifully, he did not have to stand before the Council. He was taken to a small chamber with just Mace and Yoda in attendance. There were holocameras for the rest of the Council to see what was going on.

Afterwards, he returned to the bacta waiting room. He was not supposed to be there, but Bali did not care. His master was still in a bacta tank and that was all that mattered.

Bant had explained that his master needed to stay in there a little longer just to help him recover easier. His injuries were healed for the most part but she said that his master would feel like he did–dazed and confused–for a little while. In fact, it would probably be worse since he got zapped harder.

All Bali really knew was he did not like that mushy brained feeling. It made him feel like he had forgotten his head somewhere and everything just felt a little off. Master Yoda told him that was normal, or so he had heard. And if Master Yoda said it was okay, then it must be because Yoda knew everything.

The only thing Bali was sure of was that his master was not going to be very happy when he woke up covered in bacta. The thought gave the boy something to giggle about.

A small part of him could not wait until his master was awake and arguing with Bant. He was certain they had to be very good friends because he had never heard two people talk so terribly to one another and still like each other.

Another thing he knew was Bant did not like Master Jinn. Yet, the apprentice did not understand why, he seemed like a nice enough person. He took him back to his room the other night and told him stories until he finally fell asleep. Of course, Bali had heard many of the same stories because his master had told them but he did not mind. The gray haired master was gone when he woke but that was all right. Bant was there, teasing him about his hair being mashed.

A soft tapping echoed through the sterile environment.

Bali looked through the door and down the hall just in time to see Master Yoda hobbling his way. He quickly stood up and adopted the proper stance when greeting a venerable master.

The little green figure walked into the room and paused long enough to study the boy. "Sit, you will," he ordered.

Bali hesitated but then took his place back in his seat.

"Feeling better, are you?" Yoda asked as he stopped in front of the sitting child.

Immediately Bali nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Good." The little master straightened slightly to look at the quiet boy. "Recover, your master will," he said with reassurance in his voice.

Bali nodded. "I know." But his expression did not change. "I just want to be here."

"Hmm." Yoda's ears twitched as his big yellow eyes carefully studied the singed cloak the boy wore. "Like your master, you are. Always clinging to a damaged cloak." He grabbed a burned hem and tugged on it lightly. "New cloak you need."

"I just have–"

"No excuses," Yoda snapped then eased his expression into a friendly little smile. "Worried you are, I know. See to it I shall a new cloak you get."

"Thank you, Master," Bali lowered his head in a partial bow.

"Hear I do of dreams you have," Yoda said in an effort to take the boy's mind off of his worries.

"Nightmares," Bali said softly.

"Hmm. Tell me," Yoda half whispered and he leaned forward as if a secret was about to be exchanged.

"There was a monster." Bali paused briefly as he glanced around, afraid someone might over hear. "It chases me. Wants me to be its padawan. It felt like the Sith in the Senator's apartment, but it was not that one." He looked to Yoda and little master stood there quietly studying the boy. "Master said it is a nightmare. Are they not supposed to go away?"

Yoda thought for a moment, then gently reached out, pressing a green hand to the nervous boy's arm. "Nightmare or vision, it cannot hurt you. Examine it, you must to understand it."

"How?" Bali asked hopefully. His bright green eyes reflected so many uncertain emotions.

"Ask it."

______________________

The Book of One Sided Conversations

Bant leaned back in the rather uncomfortable chair she had spent the last two hours perched in and expected to spend the rest of the night in. She stretched slightly then returned to the review of her notes. She had taken a detour from her usual study of Force healing as an injury to look up Sith lightning attacks.

The diffused lighting of the room made reading difficult. She tilted the data pad her notes were gathered on to better read but still the dim light made it too hard. Sighing loudly, she sought out a small lamp affixed to the wall. Calling gently on the Force, Bant moved it so its warm yellow glow cascaded over her.

"It has been nearly two hours since we pulled you from that lovely bacta tank. I know, you much rather stay in there, then you would not have to listen to me, answer questions from the Council or deal with Master Jinn. Yes, I know you really wanted to sit down and carry on a nice long, happy conversation with him. He asks about you almost every day. Shocking, huh?" She frowned slightly. "He and Bali apparently had a nice conversation the other evening. Bali never screamed for help so I assume he isn't permanently damaged. So don't yell at me when you wake up."

The healer scrolled through her notes but did not really read them. Her thoughts were not on her research.

"I am surprised that Bali is not camped out in here. I guess old Mace finally got wise to that slippery little padawan of yours. I still say you will be the ruin of him." She chortled softly. "Poor kid." She looked up from her research as a strange thought took hold over her. "Have you ever noticed how much the little guy looks like you? I mean, Bali acts like you, which is a tragedy in and of itself, but his little brows knit together in determination just like yours. He has that roguish grin that is going to break so many hearts when he is older." She paused realizing how ridiculous that line of thought was. It was rather common for people to find similarities in master/padawan teams. "Then again, all you humans sort of look alike."

Not receiving an answer, she continued, "I guess every time Mace turned around, Bali had escaped his watch and returned to the waiting room." Gently, she reached out and adjusted the covers on the medical sleep couch. Her silvery gaze settled on her sleeping friend. "I think I am starting to enjoy this. The conversation is so much better when you are unconscious."

Bant knew being so cavalier was not necessary. There was no one to hear her. Or at least no one who was awake that cared. She could not help her worry. Her friend was hurt and all the healing arts could do little to help him. Her silver gaze studied the unconscious form next to her.

Obi-Wan had curled up on his side. A pale hand trembled as it tightly clutched at the multiple layers of blankets that Bant had brought in just for him. His face was distorted into a mask of pain as sweat beads glistened on his forehead.

Unable to help herself, the healer rested a salmon colored hand against his quivering shoulder and gently massaged the dark blue blanket. She then peeled away the covers revealing a gray sleep tunic. Fingering around the folds, she exposed the nape of his neck revealing a small pale yellow square patch. She rubbed the square hoping to allow more of the painkiller to absorb into his skin. When he relaxed slightly, she let up.

Carefully tucking the material back into place, she returned to her notes but did not spend her time reading them. "Mace announce that he should be run through with a lightsaber if he ever considered taking on another padawan. Bali has worn him out. Can you imagine what a terror the little guy would be if he were well? Oh, wait, you do know. Persistent little monster, isn't he? Reminds me of someone else I know."

Her fingers gently brushed through Obi-Wan's damp ginger hair. "He's still a little bit out of it, probably just worried about you more than anything. But he was pretty confused and disoriented for a while. I suspect you are going to be just as fun for the next few days. Let's just hope you don't forget to put your pants on like he did." Her silver eyes blinked unhappily at the lack of response.

"You should be waking up any time. In fact, you should be awake now."

The only answer she received was a soft groan.

"They brought you in on a pallet like a big old roasted marmaluke. A little too crispy for my likings."

Obi-Wan shivered and tugged at his blankets.

Bant sighed as she laid the data pad down on the little table next to the bed. "When you wake up we are going to have a long talk about why you are sneaking in here to have Master Dirad treat your injuries. Do you have any idea how upsetting it is to be handed your considerably large medical file and find dozens of visits listed in the last few years and not know about a one? Why didn't you tell me?" Knowing she would not get an answer she sank back into the chair. It would not do any good to yell at him. Conscious or not, she would get the same answer: silence.

"Maybe I should not complain too much. At least you are trying to take care of yourself. I think I will have to thank Bali for that."

__________________

The Book of Temple Ghosts Part IV

Centuries ago, Yoda had decided he had lived too long. In his long lifetime he had seen things he wished upon no living being. He had been witness to great many changes in the Republic and the universe in general. He had lost far too many friends to the onward march of time, yet always he remained.

Too many times over the last several decades, he wished that he could join the Force to be with those long gone but he knew there was a reason for his continued existence.

Dark times loomed in the twilight years of his life, this he knew without question. Things he had hoped never to witness, never to be a part of were slowly encroaching into his world and he felt helpless to stop it for the Force did not offer up such answers. Only the painful knowledge of things to be, time had marched on and the dark tides lapped the edges of existence. The Force often whispered of a catastrophic event that loomed dangerously close to the horizon but he did not know what it was or from where it came. He feared the loneliness that seemed to cling to the unforeseeable future.

The burden of precognition had always haunted him but never so much as it had now. He feared before his life was over he would know the destruction of all he held dear.

And yet, there was a glimmer at the edge of all the darkness that gave him hope; it was intangible and so distant that he could not grasp it. At times it glowed so bright, the light so pure and white that it was blinding. Sometimes, while in deep mediation, he sensed two glimmers of hope. Neither more real than the other, but deep contemplation never allowed him to understand their purposes or why they both existed. Sometimes, the little master wondered if they were not two destinies: one to be fulfilled and one to fail.

Sometimes, he decided, he thought too much about what will be and too little about what is.

The only thing he knew for sure was that as long as his body held breath he would continue to serve the Force in whatever scheme it had laid out for him.

Soft footsteps drew the ancient master's attention away from his deep thoughts and he turned to greet the young man that quietly approached. A solemn expression clung heavily to the twenty-year-old's features.

Obi-Wan stopped in the center of the empty conference room that Yoda had sequestered himself in for some private meditation time. The apprentice glanced around the room although Yoda knew the young man had all ready scanned it for other presences. Slowly he turned his gaze on the small master and bowed. "Master Yoda."

"Disturbed, you are." There was no reason for preamble. He knew why Obi-Wan was there.

The apprentice straightened but said nothing. He glanced around the room as if detached from his surroundings, reminding Yoda of a very young initiate that had wiggled his way out of the crèche's protective surroundings and gotten lost deep within the Temple. The Force had led him to the ginger haired boy back then as it had brought the child, now a young man, to him.

Yoda lightly tapped his gimer stick on the side of his chair. "Plead with me on Padawan Keizian, will you?" He shook his head sadly. "Know the consequences of your actions you did. Ignored them any way."

"Master–"

"Argue your case before the Council!" Yoda snapped, roughly pounding the walking stick against the side of the chair for effect. "Beg for my mercy in private you will not." There was no reason to pander about with things neither one could control.

"I understand," Obi-Wan answered softly. He tried to fold his arms across his chest but it felt awkward so he allowed them to fall to his side. "Master and I have been called before the Council. I expect to be sent away just like Halla."

"For a time," Yoda replied, his usual serene calmness having returned. "Required, it normally is."

"Yes, Master."

Yoda turned his sleepy yellow eyes to the emptiness of the room and sighed softly. "Why you are here, it is not," he said in his gravelly voice.

"Why are you blocking us?" The question was spoken quickly, not allowing time for doubt to creep into the young man's mind as to whether it should be voiced or not.

The little master stirred the gimer stick quietly for a time. "You would demand an answer, I wondered when." His ears drooped slightly as his sleepy gaze returned to Obi-Wan. "Forbidden contact with each other, you are. All contact." It was a policy far older than he was; it was not to be bent even if the Force whispered to him that some rules are meant to be broken. His heightened senses and knowledge of wounded love–after all, he was flesh and blood all the same–told him that was the answer the apprentice sought. He also felt the young man's shields move to block his gentle probing. "Know this, you already do," he reminded.

Obi-Wan's gaze dropped and he rubbed his face tiredly. Yoda immediately recognized the weariness of one who had meditated, desperately seeking answers to questions of a torn heart but received none at all.

"A great burden troubles you," the little master said softly.

In an instant, Obi-Wan was across the conference room. He fell to his knees before Yoda's chair. The little master saw the lines at the edge of his eyes that seemed to have appeared since he saw the young man the day before. "Halla wants to leave the Order, Master," Obi-Wan half whispered as if fearing the repercussions of such a statement.

"Hmm." Yoda had long expected that to be the fate of Padawan Keizian. "Troubled she has always been. Strong willed. Dangerous in her own recklessness." That was not what Obi-Wan wanted to hear and the little master knew it. "On her own, this decision she must make."

"She wants me to go with her."

Ah, there was the rub. In those pale blue eyes of the padawan kneeling before him, Yoda saw great uncertainty. The kind he never imagined to see in this particular young man. "Decided have you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "I don't know what to do. Meditation has brought me no peace. I fear I have little time to decide."

"Hmm." Yoda thought for a moment. "Love her, do you?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan softly replied.

"Want to be with her."

"Yes." Difficult questions they were but he sensed the open honesty in the young man's words.

"Ah, but a Jedi you desire to be."

Obi-Wan stared at the ancient master for a time. "Yes, with all my heart."

"Why question this, do you?"

Obi-Wan shook his head and slumped forward slightly. "Master," the word just trailed off. "I do not know anything else. All I have ever desired to be is a Jedi. How do I not to be one?" He sighed or maybe sobbed. The invisible weight seemed to grow heavier against his already heavily burdened shoulders. "My heart tells me that I belong here. The Force tells me that I belong here. But there is something, within my being that does not feel right, it demands that I should go with her. They both feel like the right thing and I know I can only accept one life. It is either Halla or the Order."

For a time, Yoda studied the uncertain child. Always had he known that the Force had placed some great importance upon his unsuspecting head.

"Difficult decision this is," Yoda said firmly. "A great loss it would be to the Jedi were you to leave."

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes bright with curiosity. Yoda meant what he had said.

"What about Halla?" The young man asked.

Yoda sensed the worry bleeding through tightly drawn shields and a part of the little master understood that maybe he was being allowed in. That maybe he was the one voice that would decide the young man's fate. "Trust that she is strong, in will and the Force. She must find her own place and you can do nothing for her until then." He wanted to advise the young man that he felt the will of the Force would make things right. That he must have patience for he will have gained much more than he lost. And yet, in the distant corners of Yoda's mind a shadow remained that he feared could destroy all that could have been and possibly would be.

"Master?"

"Tell me," Yoda said softly, "what do you want?"

"To be a Jedi." There was no doubt, no waver in his voice although the uncertainty remained in his eyes.

"Do this you must." He paused briefly, questioning what he would say next. "More important, nothing is."

Obi-Wan nodded.

The little master sighed loudly as his ears drooped. That conviction must never be allowed to waver. "Demands of you, the Force has made, this I have foreseen. Promise though, I will. Make this journey easy on you if I can." All that mattered now was the young man's conviction to remain in the Order, for if that wavered, the ancient one feared all would be lost.