Obi-Wan, sitting cross-legged on the fleshy floor, took another suspicious sniff of the stuff that was in the bowl before he put it to its lips and begin to slurp the stew from it. He had refused it at first when Shakha had offered it to him, but eventually, hunger had won out and he was sitting on the floor near Shakha, eating.

The stew was sweet and tasty. Obi-Wan recognized neither the elongated grains with which it was replete nor the meats and fruits that formed its base. He assumed they came from Pethnog, though he could not have justified that idea had he needed to.

At this thought of the planet he had left behind - no, the planet he had been taken from - the image of his Padawan learner rose unbidden to his mind. At first, he thought he was simply concerned for the boy, but the picture of the young man walking through some alien bazaar accompanied by a tall, gangly, golden-furred creature was so vivid and so urgent that the Jedi slowly began to realize that he was seeing a vision from the Force.

Anakin was in grave danger.

Obi-Wan stood up hurriedly, almost involuntarily, upsetting the stew. He was in a fighting stance, lightsabre gripped tightly, unlit, in his left hand. His right palm was flat, malleable, ready for whatever he needed with it.

A blur of colorful shapes swarmed around his apprentice, and there was great and horrible screeching and wailing. Obi-Wan could not see quite what was happening. All he knew was that in a moment, the boy was gone from sight.

Then, Obi-Wan reeled backward as though struck.

Anakin had vanished from the Force.

Anakin had vanished from the Force.

It took a moment for this realization to sink into the older Jedi's brain.

His Padawan's presence was entirely absent from the universe. The boy was not living. He did not exist in the Force, which bound all things together.

Obi-Wan had not felt his apprentice's death throes. Whatever had happened, it had been far too quick for the boy even to realize what was happening to him. He had not dreaded his death, or felt the burst of pain as it came. He had simply ceased to be, never knowing even that it had happened, let alone what caused it.

The humanity of the death did not make it any easier for Obi-Wan to accept that this boy that he had raised, that he had promised his dying master Qui-Gon that he would train, was gone from his life and from the universe forever.

There were stories of strange creatures from isolated planets that could deaden the Force in a specific area, that could obliterate for a time a Jedi's sense of the Force and the Force's sense of a Jedi. But Obi-Wan had felt such things; he was one of the few among the Jedi who knew what they were like or where they were found. And he knew what it felt like when one of them suddenly masked the presence of another Jedi. No, the boy was really gone, and there was no point in attempting to persuade himself otherwise.

Shakha could tell at a glance that something was terribly wrong with Obi-Wan. He ran to the Jedi's side and placed an arm upon his shoulder. "What is it, friend?" Obi-Wan, still too shocked to speak, brushed him away, but the Hepthara was persistent. "Tell me, Obi-Wan."

"On the planet... On Pethnog... I had a Padawan... An apprentice... Anakin... Dead, dead." Obi-Wan gasped the words, his voice raw with emotion.

Shakha frowned, sympathetic and yet puzzled. "How do you know?"

"I could feel it."

Shakha inclined his head slightly, obviously puzzled. He had never heard of anything quite like this before. But he could tell that the Jedi was in no shape to deal with the multitude of questions he had. Those would have to wait for later. Besides, he reflected, the Inquisitor might want to explore the topic himself. And so the Heptharo man said nothing.

Obi-Wan stood, floundering for what to do. Some paternal instinct screamed that he needed to go to the place he had seen in the vision, the place where his Padawan had died. But to do what? To avenge his death? Vengeance was of the dark side. He had learned that when he had thrown aside all his inhibitions and struck down Darth Maul after the Sith had killed his master.

But wasn't the bringing about justice a mission of the Jedi? And what was just about a murderer's walking free to kill again? In fact, wasn't Obi-Wan bound to kill the man in order to protect innocents, which was one of the things he had sworn his life to doing?

Obi-Wan shook his head. Far too many questions, too many things to consider. But, one way or another, he knew he had to go. He looked at Shakha. "May I have leave to go to where my Padawan was killed?"

Shakha smiled. Obi-Wan bristled at this, as he knew Heptharoem were not able to do so naturally and could only smile so convincingly after years of careful practice. And the expression was supposed to be moderately painful, so they never did it without good reason. Just what is his game? Obi-Wan found himself wondering.

In his high, clear voice, Shakha said, "I cannot give you permission. There is but one who can. Perhaps it is time for you to meet His Imminence."

Abruptly, Shakha started out of the room, and Obi-Wan scrambled after him, shaking his head in confusion.