The Book of Understanding
"It's a rock," Awar said as he squinted at the stone Bali protected. The tall red haired boy leaned forward to get a better look at the stone. "Are you sure he wasn't playing a trick on you?"
Bali sighed and scooped the stone his master had given him up off the table. "Master wouldn't." He paused for a moment, thinking of all the times over the last few years he had seen the stone in his master's possession. "It was important to him."
"But it's a rock."
The smaller of the two padawans reached out and set the dark stone back in the center of the cafeteria table. "It is not just any." He called on the Force and sent a pulse to the stone. The almost unnoticeable red veins glowed briefly.
"How did you do that?" Awar asked, suddenly more interested.
"It's Force sensitive," Bali replied proudly. "Master did not show me, I figured it out myself." The dark haired boy grinned, proud of his discovery. When he had first studied the curious birthday present from his master, sending a pulse to it felt like the right thing.
As soon as the small apprentice felt the approach of others to the table, he quickly grabbed and pocketed the stone. He and Awar exchanged concerned looks before masking their worry and looking up at the group of padawans that had surrounded them. Bali nervously tugged at the new cloak Yoda had brought him as he looked around. The padawans were of all ages and he had seen most of them around but did not know any of them.
His first instinct was to cower and try to find an opening but he knew he should not. That would not look good, after all, he was a padawan. He did not cower when facing the Sith monster even though being zapped really hurt. He had even gone back to where the Sith was when his master needed help. Acting like a cowardly initiate would not look good; he kept reminding himself as he straightened.
Awar met his gaze and steeled himself after Bali's own action.
The smaller padawan knew that all eyes were on him. "Eventually, I have to go to sparring practice," he said carefully. "You might want to move." He hoped he was not inspiring a thorough beating.
A senior padawan, whose name Bali thought was Jandar, smiled. "You're Bali Tiro, right?"
Bali nodded, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to answer.
A soft murmur moved through the surrounding padawans.
"You are the Sith killer's padawan, right?"
The fear bled away as Bali took offense to the remark. "His name is Master Kenobi."
There was dead silence and Bali looked to his friend who stared back quite worriedly. He was definitely in for a beating.
Another older padawan, whose name he did not know, spoke up next. "So is it true you fought a Sith?"
He could feel the warmth of a blush rise to his cheeks and was upset with himself for allowing such an obvious emotional reaction. He considered what he was going to say and could feel the padawans creep a little closer with anticipation.
"The Council said I am not supposed to discuss anything," he said plainly, hoping mention of the high Council would quell the questioning.
"Oh," was the collective grumble.
Jandar looked to Awar. "He has not told you anything?"
Awar shook his head. "Not a word and I have tried."
"I suppose you can't tell us if you won."
"We survived," Bali replied wishing the questioning would end.
"And you should hope never to find yourself in such a situation," Master Rur Yentu said, pulling some of the older padawans backward. "Leave the child alone," the old Jedi said. His bulbous blue eyes scanned the crowd before settling on Bali.
The apprentice had seen a lecture where Master Yentu had spoken, he was supposed to know a great deal about the Sith as he had researched them for many years.
Yentu pointed a long, gray finger at the gathered padawans. "It is not enough young Tiro has been repeatedly put through Council inquisitions, that you must now gang up on him?"
Bali was thankful for the strange old Jedi's intervention. He had seen him many times but the old man was usually wrapped up in some ancient text to pay attention to his surroundings.
"Run along, I am sure there are lessons awaiting you all."
When the padawans had scattered, the old man turned his attention on Bali and gave the boy a smile. "You will always be the source of curiosity because what you did was so rare."
The apprentice nodded. "I keep getting asked but I can't say anything because Master Windu said I couldn't."
"It is only until the Council has a chance to formally release information on this. I am sure the politicians are trying to keep this quiet as well and it makes things exceedingly difficult."
Bali nodded tiredly.
"I shall leave you to your meal," Yentu hesitated. "Padawan Tiro."
"Yes, Master?" Bali dutifully replied.
"With the Council and your Master's permission, may I interview you about the attack sometime?"
The apprentice thought about it for a moment. "Of course, Master." Everyone wanted to speak to him now. It used to be so many were afraid of upsetting his master they kept their distance and was certain they whispered terrible things. Bali did not care, Yoda had told him that he was where he should be and that no master could be better for him. He had learned to become used to the whisperings, after a while they did not bother him. After all, he was the padawan of the only Sith killer in all the universe, even though his master did not like to be called that.
Bali was quickly learning why.
_____________________
The Book of Grand Visions
In the distance, the sun cast an orange glow over the canyons of buildings and structures that made up Coruscant. Stark against the warm glow was the towering Jedi Temple. It rose protectively over the sea of structures below.
"That is where Ani has been living?" Shmi asked meekly.
"Yes, ma'am," Jira replied as carried in a shopping bag full of newly bought clothing. The blond stopped short to study the older woman but then continued with her task of putting away the newly purchased items.
Shmi could not take her eyes off the structure looming in the distance. When the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn, had told her that Anakin would live in the Temple, she thought of the Caster monks that lived on the outskirts of Mos Espa. A simple dwelling attached to a holy shrine. A simple life devoted to service to their deity and a pious life helping others. She did not imagine her son living in the grandest of cathedrals. To her weary eyes, it was more a palace than a church. Of course she had heard stories of the Jedi and had often told the tales to her son as bedtime stories.
She folded her arms across her chest but stopped and studied the crisp material of her clothing. They were brand new.
Never in her life had she owned anything new, let alone as colorful as the long shirt she wore. Brightly colored tuka flower prints flowed over the deep blue material. She put a leg forward to study the wine colored pants and the very soft bantha skin moccasins that covered her feet. How easily she could get spoiled to this kind of comfort.
The warm glow drew her attention back to the window. The sun had dipped down to the jagged horizon and now allowed the temple to be more clearly seen in the twilight. The building, or rather campus of multiple buildings was as old as known time and yet for some reason Shmi decided it was still young and lively.
Unlike her.
Her reflection showed harshly against the orange glow. The gray in her hair was all too stark. It had been so long since she had looked in a mirror. She had been young once but between glances she had grown so old. Calloused fingers pulled at the deep lines around her eyes in a vain attempt to smooth the skin.
She wondered if Anakin would even recognize her. Another part was frightened that she would not recognize him. Ten years was a long time and little boys grow up.
Shmi turned and found that to her surprise Jira was quietly watching her. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"For what? You have never seen Coruscant." The blond smiled gently and motioned toward the window. "I asked for this side of the hotel specifically just so you had a view of the Temple." Jira grinned. "Fresh clothing is in your room. I'm sure you would like to rest tonight after your long journey."
"Yes." Shmi walked back to the circle of chairs in the common room. Her frailty apparent as she found an over stuffed chair. "I would like to rest tonight. Clean up. Get myself together." She looked up at the blond who irritably pushed her locks back. "You have done so much for me. How can I ever repay you?"
"You can't, because I won't allow it. This is only a small thing the people of Naboo could do for the young man whose heroics helped our people so." Jira sank into the couch.
Shmi smiled meekly again as she stared uncomfortably down at her hands. "This room is too grand for just me. It is like a palace."
Jira looked around curiously. "No. I have been in many palaces and I can tell you that this is not one. It isn't as stuffy." She giggled playfully urging a smile from the older woman. She saw Shmi's sadness. "I have already informed Senator Amidala. She cannot wait to tell your son the news. Right now he is assigned to guard the Senator so she is making plans in her schedule to visit so you can see your son."
Shmi's tired, deeply lined face lit up. "Thank you."
__________________
The Book of Tough Love
With a soft swoosh, the doors of the Jedi Council chamber glided open revealing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He stared out into the antechamber where other Jedi waited patiently for their turn before the Council. They did not garner his attention as he swiftly walked through the room and out into the corridor taking him away from the inquisition.
The Council had bombarded him with many questions; most he could not answer. Vague flashes of memory were all that remained of his confrontation with the Sith. That and the recovery from the attack were all he had.
The Force braced him against the ache and weariness that was slowly fading but it was his own will that kept the pain masked. Maintaining shielding so dense that was second nature, he walked quickly through the massive Temple. He found that it was a curious sensation to hide so completely. It had been years since he had felt the need to do so and found it to be so much lonelier than he remembered. He felt the heightened awareness of his surroundings and yet he was cut off from the life of the Temple. A part of him feared returning to the isolation.
It was only for a little while, at least until he returned to his apartment and could deal with his injuries.
The journey had remained unimpeded until he arrived at the main lift of the residential section. Several Jedi waited the cart's arrival and he briefly considered searching out one of the secondary lifts but he was tired. Nor did he feel up to taking twenty-seven flights of stairs.
He had recently faced a Sith master, certainly he could handle a lift full of Jedi. They were not physically attacking him.
The lift door slid open, but only a few of the passengers exited before Obi-Wan and the others could quietly partake in the ride. There was some soft conversation but he paid it little attention, more concerned in redefining his shielding. The last thing he wanted was to come off as hostile, Master Healer Lorus would love that and tear into him in their next session.
At his floor, he quietly exited the cart and walked the distance of the hall to the first intersection and turned left. His pace staggered and he was forced to lean against the wall briefly. Gathering his strength, he straightened and walked to the next intersection but stopped just as he rounded the corner.
Bant stopped her pacing and just stared at him.
Slowing his pace slightly, Obi-Wan continued toward his apartment. "I'm surprised you didn't let yourself in."
The healer huffed playfully. "I was still trying to decide if you were just ignoring me or if you really weren't home. Sometimes it is quite hard to tell." She quickly approached her friend and wrapped herself around his arm offering light support. The playfulness slipped from her voice. "You should have told the Council that you weren't ready to go traipsing around the Temple. Healer's orders were for you to rest. Well, next time, I am going to tell the Council that you don't need dragged around the Temple at their whim. You're hurt."
"You will do no such thing," Obi-Wan growled.
"So you think," Bant replied cheerfully again as she palmed the door open. "I have no trouble telling Mace where to stick it."
"That only works in the healing center," the ginger haired Jedi tiredly replied, as he was half pulled into the apartment.
Bant twisted around to meet Obi-Wan's gaze. "Did you get your sense of humor zapped out?"
"I thought you said I lost that a long time ago?"
"One can always hope you will get it back." She sighed as she silently called the lights up. "Still, you shouldn't have let them bully you into a meeting."
"They didn't."
"Oh don't tell me you volunteered. Anyone with half a brain would know they weren't ready to walk the length of the Temple or face the Council. But no! Not you."
"Bant."
"Don't Bant me," she growled, then roughly pushed the injured Jedi to the couch. "See if I help you next time."
"I could have made it here just fine," Obi-Wan shot back as he curled up on the couch, carefully pulling at the edges of his cloak. Truth was he much preferred his bed, a day of sleep would do him good. Once he had gotten comfortable, he allowed his head to fall back against the couch arm. A tired grin was all he could offer the healer.
"Uh huh," Bant said skeptically as she slid to the edge of the couch. Instinctively she called to the Force to check up on her friend's recovery. "You need to rest," she softly growled. Worry briefly fluttered across the Mon Calamari's face. "You would have been crawling to the door if I had not been waiting. How would that have looked? The great warrior, the one Jedi who has faced more Sith in the last millennia than all of the Order put together, crawling."
Obi-Wan just stared at her for a time. "That is not true," he said flatly.
The remark kept Bant quiet for only a moment, and then her face took on a mask of bitter determination. "Oh, right," sarcasm dripped from every word, "I forgot all about Qui-Gon-mister-I-will-lay-here-holding-my-chest-while-my-padawan-finishes-off-the-Sith-and-saves-my-lame-butt-so-I-can-kick-him-while-he's-down Jinn."
"Bant."
"Isn't this the same guy who got knocked flat on his butt a few days ago by another one? Only to be saved when Bali–yes, Bali–hit it with a Force shove? Don't look at me like that, of course I was eaves dropping. If they are going to have those conversations in the healing center, then I am going to listen." She glanced away from his intense stare. "The only difference between now and then is he feels some sort of remorse. He at least spoke civilly to Bali. I would have made him a permanent resident of the healing center if he harmed him in anyway."
This time, Obi-Wan slowly turned his gaze away to stare toward the back of the apartment. "Bant, please–"
"You know as well as I do that is what he did. Just because you still cannot admit it to yourself, does not mean it isn't true. Suddenly forgetting you have a padawan so you can take another wasn't caused by amnesia. It was arrogance and stupidity. Andand just plain cruel." Calming, she sighed loudly. "Maybe that jolt of lightning started his heart–"
"Now you are just being cruel," Obi-Wan argued.
Bant slapped a hand to his forehead. "See, you aren't well. You are still a little out of it and you don't know what you are saying." She made him look at her. "Your fuzzy brain betrayed you the other day in front of me, Mace, Yoda and him. Force knows the moment you slurred Master I wanted to hit you with a good sleep whammy so you didn't embarrass yourself."
"It could not have been that bad," Obi-Wan said softly. Uncertainty filled his pale blue eyes. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no clue what he had said. The only thing he did remember was locking onto Bali's worried but safe aura. The relief he had felt knowing the apprentice was all right.
"You called him Master, as in Sorry, Master.'"
"I don't remember that."
"For a while, you didn't remember the last fifteen years. Funny thing was, I felt terrible when you remembered where you were. For a little while, you reminded me of someone I used to know." She smiled sadly and glanced away before giving a weak laugh. "Maybe I should have hit him with a whammy. Someone needed to knock that pleased look off his face." The bitterness left as quickly as it appeared. "Could have knocked old Jinn flat on his butt and no one could have stopped me."
"Mace and Yoda would have read you and reacted before you could even think it."
"Who is to say they would try?"
"Pride is not a good color on you," Obi-Wan said tiredly as he tugged at the edges of his cloak. For some reason, he felt colder than usual.
Noticing this, Bant reached to the end of the couch where a deep, but multicolored blanket sat neatly folded. She had found specifically for this apartment, even knowing her gloomy friend would toss anything too bright out.
She spread it out and covered Obi-Wan. "Well, neither is that sickly pallor on you."
"I was beginning to get used to it," Obi-Wan replied then offered her a weak laugh before he gratefully pulled at the covers. He decided the healer was right, he just needed to rest. He would feel better by the time Bali was hungry for the evening meal. Of course, that was if Mace did not wear him out in sparring practice.
The venerable Council member had volunteered to take the padawan through a few light exercises for a few days. It would give the two a chance to cook up some acts of mischievousness. He would have to remember to check his drinks before opening them from now on.
The Jedi's tired gaze fell to Bant who sat there quietly. "Well?"
"Well, what?" She huffed unhappily. "I am worried," she said softly. "It makes me wonder if you are still not trying to kill yourself."
The suggestion made Obi-Wan defensive. "I wouldn't," he answered quickly. "I would not do that to Bali. I promised him I would be there. I will be there when he becomes a knight."
"And in the meantime? Obi, you are killing yourself. You cannot do these missions anymore and they are not required to teach Bali. Demand something easier."
"I will, when this is over."
"This? The Republic is crumbling. This will never be over. You will still be fighting the monsters and a dying government and that is going to kill you. Don't you get it? You are not invincible no matter how many times you try to prove it." Anger rippled through her usually calm expression and chipper voice. "If you won't do this for yourself, do it for Bali. We both know a thirteen-year-old does not need to be drug into those situations. You have said it yourself: he's having nightmares of monsters. You think that little confrontation with the nightmare of all Jedi, where his master nearly got killed, is going to help him sleep?" She pressed her salmon colored hand to his shoulder.
Obi-Wan didn't fight the sleep compulsion. The last thing he heard just before drifting off was Bant whispering. "He's a strong little kid, but if his master dies, it will crush him beyond repair."
