By Gheorghe2 and ginef
CHAPTER FOUR - "A Credit For Your Thoughts"
"Well, that didn't take long," Linn commented. Coruscant Control had spewed out landing coordinates almost the moment they had broken orbit.
"We're expected," Ben said.
Linn digested his flat statement, feeling apprehension float by. She hadn't exactly announced to anyone that she was going to be in the neighborhood. Which meant that at some point, Ben had. Without telling her.
It took The Roncardi's computer only a few seconds to begin hooting an alarm. Linn quickly shut off the klaxon. She pointed to the landing coordinates the ship had just warned her to avoid on pain of being blasted out of the sky. "There's obviously been some sort of mistake."
Ben leaned over her shoulder, resting his arm on the back of the captain's chair. "No, there's no mistake. We've diplomatic clearance," he explained.
Linn turned around and looked at him skeptically. "Ben! That airspace is reserved for the Supreme Chancellor."
He looked askance at her, as if **she** were the one chasing moonbeams. "Well, where else would we land?"
She searched hard for any humor or sarcasm in his response. There wasn't any. "You could have warned me," Linn grumbled, sending the ship down into the heart of the most restrictive airspace in the galaxy. "I would have gotten the hull painted."
Confident though she was in her piloting, Linn really wished that she wasn't trying to land her humble freighter on the Chancellor of the Universe's private platform. From the air, the landing pad seemed to be the size of a data disk, suspended in the air by nothing but sheer force of will. As nervous as she suddenly was, it was a wonder she hadn't missed it entirely.
"I'll get Anakin," Ben said, unstrapping as soon as they touched down. He ducked out of the cockpit, leaving her still sitting in the pilot's chair.
He hadn't really said what she should do. Linn had thought she wanted to go along when Ben delivered the disk. Now, as an unsettling sense of dislocation grew, she wasn't so sure.
The question was answered definitively when she saw a shuttle dock at the edge of the platform. It was bright red. High-ranking diplomatic status, Linn knew. The woman who emerged seemed vaguely familiar. But Linn had no difficulty recognizing the dark blue-robed guards accompanying her. She had seen them on newsfeeds before, and with the election of Senator Palpatine, the Chancellor's Senate Guards had become a very familiar sight.
Linn decided that even if invited, she'd stay with the ship. She shrugged out of her seat and found Ben at the hatch. He was kneeling in front of Annie, speaking to him in hushed tones. When he saw Linn, he stopped and stood.
"Your ride's here," Linn said.
"Right, then. We should be off." He turned to Anakin. "Will you go and greet our escort? I'll be there momentarily."
Anakin nodded. "See you later, Linn," he said and headed down the ramp.
Linn watched him go, feeling rather sad. The recording had stolen something innocent and light-hearted from Anakin.
She turned to Ben. He was shuffling nervously, fidgeting with his collar. Things were very awkward again. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he finally said, not meeting her eyes.
"I'll be here."
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Ben pulled her into an embrace, burying his face in her neck. He held her so tightly that when he abruptly let go Linn staggered back against the bulkhead. "Ben..." she began. But he was already gone.
Linn raced back to the cockpit. Ben met the woman in the middle of the platform and greeted her with a deep bow, one that Anakin imitated rather well. They turned and hurried toward the shuttle, leaving the blue guards behind. Seconds later the shuttle departed and was lost to her in the traffic traversing the skies.
Sei Taria. That was who their escort was. She was the Chief of Staff to the Supreme Chancellor's Office and was always at the Chancellor's left elbow. Linn slumped down in the captain's chair, glancing again at the blue robed guards. So, she and The Roncardi merited the Chancellor's private guard corps? This was all odd. Very odd.
***
"And you can confirm, Obi-Wan, that the Sith in the holo was the one you struck down?" Mace Windu asked.
"Yes, Master. Without a doubt. Perhaps when the recording has been reviewed, we will be able to identify the other."
"Perhaps," the Master replied vaguely, and steepled his hands.
Obi-Wan fought the urge to fidget with the long cuff of his Jedi robe. He and Anakin had been in the High Council chamber for an eternity. He was worried. Even with their hours of work the night before, Anakin had barely been able to endure seeing the recording again. The Council had seen the boy's fear as if it had been stamped on his forehead and had chastised him for it. The experience had been very trying for his Padawan.
And he needed to see Linn. Now back at the Temple and in his familiar Jedi uniform, the deception hung even more heavily upon him. He and Linn could resolve this, he felt. But, he had to speak with her. And the sooner the better.
Why were his Masters prolonging this report?
"Might the recording be a forgery?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.
"I do not believe so," Obi-Wan replied, willing calm. "Four beings were murdered to prevent us from obtaining it."
"What of Mistress Darrow?" Yaddle asked. "At further risk is she?"
"She intends to spread the word on the fringe that she has already obtained the disk and turned it over to the Republic. However, I believe she may seek her father's assassin."
"Discovering this murderer might lead us to the Sith Lord," Master Windu said. "The Corellian Security Forces and whatever passes for local authority on Abregado-Rae and Atzerri should be contacted."
Behind him, Ben heard Adi Gallia say, "I shall see to it, Master." He knew she was the liaison for such things to the Chancellor's Office.
"The woman should be guarded," Even Piell growled. The combative Master repeated the Code: "Jedi are bound to protect those who have no other means of defense."
Ben stilled a twitch of humor.
"Amused are you, Obi-Wan?" Master Even asked testily.
He bowed deeply, an apology. "No, Master. I was just considering only how Mistress Darrow would object to being characterized as 'defenseless.'"
A vague sense of unease was beginning to settle around him. He really wanted to leave. Obi-Wan began backing to the door, Anakin beside him. "With your permission, Masters, I can discuss with Mistress Darrow the assignment of a Jedi to protect her."
"Obi-Wan!"
He halted. It was the first time Master Yoda had spoken during the interview. His call was a command. "Anything else have you to say?"
"No, Master Yoda."
Yoda glanced at Master Windu. They both sighed and Obi-Wan felt a chill. He was certain of it. The skin on his back began to prickle. Something had passed between the two Masters.
"Obi-Wan," Mace Windu began. "You protected the defenseless, when you took this woman from the Atzerri cantina." He paused, significantly, then continued, "But you preyed upon the defenseless when you took this woman to your bed."
* * *
Linn had decided to use the down time to recalibrate the Ron's aging fore shield array. It didn't require a great deal of concentration, leaving her free to mull over the strange turns of the past few weeks. She'd barely gotten started when she heard the buzzer indicating that someone was at the ramp. Odd, Ben and Annie knew the code to get in, she thought as he headed back that direction.
A look at the viewscreen told her it wasn't Ben after all, or Annie. A young man, dressed in simple brown robes, was at the hatch on the landing platform. Curious, Linn released the ramp and strode half way down it. "Yes?" she asked, brushing her hands off on her coveralls.
The young man bowed. What was it with all the bowing around here, she wondered. He was sporting the same sort of hair as Annie, closely shorn on the top, with a braid dangling down his right shoulder. Odd, she thought. "May I help you?"
"Mistress Darrow, the Jedi High Council wishes an audience with you, if that is agreeable."
Linn nearly choked in disbelief. "The Jedi Council?"
"Yes," the boy said, very earnestly. "I am to escort you there at your earliest convenience."
He was for real. What in the universe could the Jedi Council want with her? Unless... no, that was... no. "Uh, yeah, just let me wash up first, okay?"
"Certainly." He bowed again.
Linn hurried up the ramp and to her cabin. Her anxiety growing with each passing moment, she managed to change clothing and clean up in a single, continuous forward motion and head back to where the boy was waiting for her.
The young Jedi, he must be a Jedi, she figured, was waiting patiently. He nodded courteously to her and began to walk toward a waiting shuttle. Linn took the chance to stare. She'd never seen a Jedi up close. He looked normal enough. She didn't know what she expected, but this child/man certainly wasn't it.
He gestured for her to get aboard. Linn took a seat in the back of the utilitarian transport. The door slid shut and they were off.
***
The Master's ringing denouncement clanged through the chamber like a harsh bell. Obi-Wan felt it resound into his bones. All eyes in the chamber were on him, most especially Anakin's. Before he could even force a response from a mind and mouth that had closed in panic, Mace came back at him again, harsher still.
"Did you really think you could hide from us the nature of your relationship with her when you come here just hours from her bed?"
A whirl of emotions engulfed him - mortification and shame at the forefront. They, his Masters, all twelve of them, knew everything. They had known as he stood there. And what they didn't know, he could now feel them plucking from his memory, piece by agonizing piece. He felt their stares, could feel them pry his mind open and scour it. He pushed against them, struggling for a mental pattern that might screen him ... and Linn.
"You would dare to compound your crime by blocking us now?" Ki-Adi-Mundi charged.
"You've no right to ransack my memory like this," Obi-Wan protested, hotly, laboring to throw up some defense.
"Do we not?" Yaddle asked. "For her such courtesy you did not show."
His sense of shame deepened. For she was right. At least Linn had not known of the invasion. Here, he could feel them carving through every secret he had shared with her, slicing it from the deepest part of him, and dragging it on to the floor of the Council chamber for all of them to see. Obi-Wan felt cold sweat begin to bead on his face.
"Love her you might," Yoda announced. He paused, and Obi-Wan felt the Master deftly cut through his shattered mental barriers. "Beautiful, you think she is. But no promises you made."
If Yoda was a knife, Mace was a bludgeon. Where he went, Obi-Wan felt a hole open in his mind. "A secret beauty under the trappings of an oversized flightsuit," Mace Windu said, contempt at the edge of his voice.
It was Saesee Tiin, the most profound telepath on the Council who went the deepest. "If you desired for her to call your real name, you should have told it to her."
How had they done it, Obi-Wan moaned. Everything that had been private and special had become tawdry and cheap. It wasn't enough for them to know and for him to atone. His Masters were violating even the memories.
"A violation it is, Obi-Wan," Yoda said, sternly, perceiving the direction of his unsaid protest.
"Violation?" Master Piell repeated. "It is a grave violation of the Code to abuse your power for personal pleasure with an unknowing partner."
Obi-Wan flinched. It hadn't been like that. Picking their way through his mind like clawbirds on carrion, couldn't they see that loneliness and grief had driven them together?
"Help you heal, you thought she could," Yaddle observed. "Of losing Qui-Gon, ease the pain."
"Qui-Gon is one with the Force. He speaks to you," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "And yet, this was not enough?"
"You dishonor your former Master and everything he gave you," Mace Windu began, winding up to level another blow, "by looking for comfort and understanding in a woman's bed."
Ever so slightly, Obi-Wan felt himself beginning to tremble. He wrapped the tattered pieces of his psyche around himself, much the way he would his robe in the cold. Just when he thought he could bear no more, he felt a small hand slip its way into his, offering strength and reassurance.
"Did you honestly think you could have a future with her?" Yarael Poof asked with disbelief.
Obi-Wan returned Anakin's squeeze. "I hadn't considered--"
Mace cut him off, contemptuous. "Obviously you hadn't considered the larger implications of your actions or you would not have become involved with her."
The accusations were coming faster now. Even from those he had never heard from before. "Did you stop to consider the effect on your Padawan?" Eeth Koth said.
Oppo Rancisis savagely added, in a tone of betrayal, "We entrust you with his training and this is the example you set?"
"Your Padawan you have failed, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Yoda said gravely. "The Jedi you have disgraced."
Obi-Wan hung his head, shame engulfing him.
"No!" he heard Anakin exclaim. "Stop it, all of you!"
Obi-Wan dropped to his knees in front of the boy, and took him gently by the shoulders. "Anakin. Don't. I'm all right."
There were tears in the child's eyes. "Don't let them take you away from me too."
"Never." Obi-Wan vowed that this was a pledge he would keep. He wiped a tear from Annie's cheek. "I promise."
"Perhaps Anakin should leave us," Depa Billaba said, speaking for the first time, and in a tone that was not a suggestion. Obi-Wan felt a flush of gratitude to her. She looked pointedly at Yoda.
"Go he may," Yoda acquiesced.
Obi-Wan placed his hands on his Padawan's arms. "Anakin, I want you to go and wait for me in our quarters."
"No! I won't leave you."
"Anakin," he ordered gently. "Please. Go." The boy hesitated, opening his mouth to protest. "Anakin..." The boy nodded and hurried from the room.
Obi-Wan slowly rose, closing his eyes in relief when he saw the door close behind the child. And opened them to see Linn being escorted in the chamber.
She caught sight of him and pulled up short, looking him up and down, taking in his Jedi garb. Her shock resonated through him.
"Thank you, Mistress Darrow for agreeing to meet with us," Mace Windu said. "You have our gratitude for your assistance in obtaining the data disk. Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi was just telling us how invaluable you were to his mission."
Obi-Wan stepped forward. "This isn't necessary," he began.
"Obi-Wan, you will be silent," Mace ordered, his voice as harsh as he had ever heard it.
"Obi-Wan?" Linn repeated and pivoted to him again. A profound wave of betrayal washed through the chamber. Ben saw her eyes glisten for a moment, then harden into stone. She pointedly turned away from him and toward Mace Windu. She lifted her chin before speaking. "My father was killed for that disk, so it was in my interest as well to find out what was on it."
"We are very sorry for your loss, Mistress Darrow," Depa Billaba said.
"Thank you," Linn replied, simply. "May I ask why I was summoned here? I suspect there is more to it than your desire to thank me. After all, there are cards and floral bouquets for that sort of thing, aren't there?"
Obi-Wan admired her courage. There were few in the universe that would not be cowed by the Jedi High Council.
Mace Windu steepled his hands again. "It has come to our attention that Obi-Wan acted," he paused, seeming to search for the word, "inappropriately during his time with you."
"There was nothing inappropriate about what happened between Ben and me," Linn bit back heatedly. "The only thing inappropriate is this gathering."
"We regret that you feel so, Mistress Darrow. We did wish to be certain that you were properly compensated for your time and trouble," Mace went on.
Linn started in shock. "Compensated?" she whispered.
"We are also prepared to offer you the protection of the Jedi until the danger resulting from this transaction has passed," Master Piell said.
"Jedi Knight Kenobi is, of course, unavailable for that assignment as he will be entering seclusion so that he may reflect on his transgressions," Ki-Adi-Mundi added.
"No, thanks," Linn replied, sarcasm flowing. "I think I'll take my chances."
"We have prepared a generous reward," Mace said. He signaled, and a droid rolled forward and dropped a small sack into her hands. It bulged with credit pieces. "But you must agree to never see Jedi Knight Kenobi again."
Ben could feel her shaking with anger and hurt. He was revolted by every person in the chamber for doing this to her, saving the largest piece of that disgust for himself. This was his fault. All of it. Qui-Gon had tried to warn him, and once again he hadn't listened.
Linn did not give the sack a glance. "I sell information, not myself," she retorted. "Perhaps," and she fixed her eyes coldly on him, "I should compensate you for **Obi-Wan's** time." With that she flung the contents of the bag at his feet. The bag burst apart and the credits skittered across the hard floor, the only sound in the stunned silence of the chamber. "Now if you'll excuse me," she said, and turned on her heel and left without looking back.
The door hissed shut behind her as Obi-Wan stared down at the credits around his ankles. Anger and despair roared through him. "She didn't deserve that," he said between gritted teeth. "The fault is with me, not her."
"The truth she needed to hear, young Obi-Wan," Yoda said.
"I would have told her," he insisted.
"We had little confidence in your resolve to do so," Mace said coolly. "Your emotions in this have not been clear."
"Obi-Wan," Depa Billaba said softly. He pivoted to face her, trying to discern what he sensed from Depa that he had not from the others. She leaned forward but he could still barely see her face in the folds of her robe. "This has been a very difficult transition for Anakin. He continues to pine for his mother. To offer him any sense of a replacement is dangerous and could be extremely damaging. Surely, you can see that?"
Obi-Wan hung his head, some of his anger draining. "Yes," he conceded. "That I have erred I do not dispute."
"Leave us," Mace ordered. "You are to go into seclusion and spend the time meditating on the matter."
He backed to the door, finally unable to bear another moment in the poisonous atmosphere. "But see her again you must not," Master Yoda's words followed him out the chamber.
***
Linn stalked down the hallway away from the Jedi Council. She refused to give into the urge to run. She also refused to cry, and shook with the effort to hold back the tears. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She kept her head up defiantly, daring any of the brown-robed figures she passed to give her a second look. Most of them averted their eyes to stare at the floor or even the ceiling. Her Jedi escort trailed behind her at a safe distance. What did he think? The woman of ill repute was going to drag him into a corner and steal his virtue?
Was it a right or a left here, she struggled to remember. She guessed right, and sighed in relief as she pushed through the doors that led to the landing pad. She picked up her pace, and almost didn't see little Anakin step out of the shadows in time to stop from mowing him down.
"Annie!" she exclaimed, and dropped down to her knees in front of him.
"I wanted to say good-bye," he said in a small voice. "I saw them taking you in."
The Jedi escort finally caught up. "Anakin," he said, "I do not believe you are supposed to be here."
Before the child could respond, Linn whirled on him. "Back off, spoonbender," she hissed.
The Jedi acquiesced with a bow and backed through the doors. Satisfied, Linn turned her attention to the boy. There were tears in his eyes and his upper lip was twitching with the effort not to cry.
"Oh, sweetheart," she said, suddenly fighting tears of her own. She pulled him into a tight embrace. When she let him go, she rested her hands on his shoulders. "Everything will be all right, you'll see."
"I don't want you to go." He hiccuped, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
Linn took in the downsized version of the same Jedi outfit she'd seen Ben wearing in the Council chamber and felt a fresh wave of revulsion. What were they doing to this poor boy? Would they turn him into the same type of pathetic wretch as Ben?
"Do you want to come with me?" Suddenly, Linn wanted nothing more than to get this child out of here and away from these warped beings. "I could take you back to Tatooine. To your mother."
Anakin seemed to consider this for a moment. "No," he replied solemnly. "My destiny lies here. I must become a Jedi Knight if I am to free my mom and the other slaves."
Linn closed her eyes. When she was nine, her biggest concern had been how she was going to convince Dar to buy her another space pop, and this child worried about righting the wrongs of the galaxy.
"And besides," he went on, "Obi-Wan needs me."
Linn bit back the caustic remark on the tip of her tongue. Speaking ill of Ben would only serve to hurt the boy, the one being in this whole mess who didn't deserve it. "Would you like me to get a message to your mother?"
Annie's eyes lit up. "Please!" he exclaimed. "They don't allow me to contact her."
Linn flinched, but for some reason, wasn't all that surprised either. "What's her name? Can you tell me where she lives?"
"She lives in Mos Espa. Her name is Shmi Skywalker and Watto owns her."
Loathing coursed through her again as Linn realized that not only had the Jedi taken Annie from his mother, but they had also left her as a slave. She hugged him again. "What do you want me to tell her, Annie?"
"That I'm okay. That I miss her and think of her everyday," he paused, tears threatening again. "That I love her."
"She's lucky to have such a wonderful son, Annie," Linn said, fingering his tiny braid, then smoothing his hair. "My ship has a Chad registry, A3645-73. Can you remember that?"
Anakin nodded. "Chad, A3645-73," he repeated.
"Any time you want to get a message to her, contact me and I'll be happy to be your personal courier, okay?"
The boy nodded and peered over her shoulder towards the door. Reinforcements had arrived, she guessed. Conjecture which was confirmed when she heard a female voice say sternly, "Padawan, you were instructed to wait in your quarters."
"Yes, Master," Anakin replied before turning his eyes back to Linn. He didn't even attempt to stop the tears this time. "Will I ever see you again?" he asked, voice trembling.
Linn swallowed the planet-sized lump at the back of her throat. "I don't think so, Annie." She kissed his forehead softly. The boy threw his arms around her, and she held him tightly for a moment.
"Be well, my young friend," she said, as she pulled away. She stood quickly and headed toward the shuttle. Linn didn't allow herself to look back.
***
Obi-Wan strode down the hall, ignoring the stares of his fellow Jedi. He could feel their eyes burning with curiosity upon him as he passed. Word had undoubtedly already spread in the Temple that Obi-Wan Kenobi, newly knighted, had violated the Code in such a way as to earn the furious wrath of the High Council. The speculation swirling about burned into him, searing him, leaving him feeling raw and utterly exposed.
The rankest Apprentice would probably know the worst of it within days, he thought angrily. The Council had done it deliberately, humiliating Linn before he could explain, and shaming him before his subordinates, peers, and Masters. The Code might not keep a Knight from straying; but the public disgrace that followed certainly would. Grimly, he realized, that was the whole point of this.
He had to see Linn once more. She, and Annie, were the innocent victims in this. If he didn't get transport from the Temple's landing bay quickly, she would be gone. The pain she felt at his betrayal was still echoing through the Temple. Even if he hadn't known that she would immediately flee to her ship, Obi-Wan could have easily followed the trail of anguish left in her wake all the way back to where the Ron had docked. Space could take Master Yoda's parting command and the Code with it. The abject insubordination brought him up short. He had spent more than 10 years chafing over Qui-Gon's continual conflicts with the Council. "Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you," Yoda had said. It was the only stirring of pride Obi-Wan could feel through this trial.
How he had failed his Master and his Padawan eclipsed even the enormity of what he had done to Linn. On that, the Council had been correct. He had failed the boy, again and again, from the moment they had first met. He had resented Anakin as yet another detour in Qui-Gon's continual and tedious fascination with pathetic lifeforms. When his Master would have pushed him aside in favor of a new Padawan, Obi-Wan learned what it was to be jealous.
He shuddered with the memory of it. Anakin had known it all, had tried to make amends, even shyly approaching him during the return to Naboo, only to be rebuffed. And then he had had the unmitigated gall to take Anakin as his Padawan. Not because he carried any hopes or deep in faith in him, but simply because he'd given Qui-Gon his word. He hadn't even bothered to ask Anakin if this was something he wanted.
He would not let Anakin down again. He relaxed into the Force, needing to reach Linn, but wanting to check on Anakin, and was startled to discover the boy was close by. Obi-Wan picked up his pace and spied his Padawan waiting for a lift, with an older apprentice playing the role of "escort." They had come from the landing area, Obi-Wan immediately perceived. Anakin had seen Linn; her hurt hung about him.
"Anakin," he called. "I asked you to wait in our quarters."
Anakin turned toward him, eyes wary. "Yes, Master," he replied solemnly. "I'm going now." The child's sadness tore at Obi-Wan's heart. "She's leaving," he said softly. "I needed to say good-bye."
Obi-Wan knelt before him and placed his hand on the side of the boy's face. He glanced to the side; the Apprentice was hanging back a few steps, his discomfiture apparent. "You may go now," Obi-Wan told him.
"But-"
"Leave us, Padawan," Obi-Wan ordered.
The younger man pursed his lips and then obeyed, turning on his heel and heading down the hall. Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Annie.
"Why am I always saying good-bye?" Anakin asked in a small voice.
"Anakin, I owe you an apology. I've done so many things wrong..." he trailed off, unable to find the words. He wished, as he had countless times before, for a fraction of Qui-Gon's insight. His Master would have known what to say.
The boy's eyes welled with tears. "Are you leaving me too?" he asked.
"No!" Obi-Wan assured him. "Not unless-" he stopped, thinking back to the time when he had become Qui-Gon's Padawan, to what his Master had said to him. "Annie, in the Council chamber you shared with me your courage, your strength. You showed me that I could endure the shame of my offenses. Qui-Gon once told me, when I was just a little older than you are now, that when the Padawan teaches the Master in turn, the partnership is right. I believe he knew this would be the case with us." He took Annie by the shoulder and looked him squarely in the eyes. "If you wish it, I would be honored if you would remain my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker."
Anakin's eyes widened, then he smiled through his tears. "I accept, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said.
Obi-Wan rested his forehead against his Padawan's feeling the Force pulse between them with a strength that had been lacking before, a powerful new bond established.
Anakin pulled away first. "You need to say good-bye," he advised earnestly.
"I know. Will you be all right for a while?"
The boy nodded, wiping the tears from his face with the sleeve of his robe. "I'll even wait in our quarters," he said with a wry grin.
Obi-Wan laughed softly, then rumpled Annie's hair. "I'll believe that when I see it."
"Go," Annie urged. "You don't have much time."
Obi-Wan nodded and rose to his feet. He squeezed his young charge's shoulder in thanks and hurried off.
***
Hurry up!" Linn demanded of the droid charged with refueling her ship. The mechanical creature beeped something in response which could have been a "yes, ma'am" or an expletive. She didn't care, so long as it moved things along.
She continued to pace the landing pad, as if her nervous energy and her own impatience could speed the process.
This would teach her not to be ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Dar had always held enough fuel in reserve to make a quick escape, but she had been too wrapped up in Be-- no, Obi-Wan to think that clearly. He'd wanted to get under way to Coruscant with such an urgency that she hadn't bothered to top up on Abergado-Rae. And now she was paying the price.
She already had her clearance. It had happened so quickly, she could only assume that every being in Coruscant Civilian Space Control knew about this too. The refueler had been waiting at the landing pad when she had returned. Obviously, the Jedi were as anxious to see her gone as she was to turn her rear engine exhausts on them.
She must be stupider than the Gammoreans who guarded Fagina. The Gotal's words came back to haunt her. "Things are not as they seem," she'd said. The headache, Linn realized now had to have been the result of close proximity to Jedi.
Space, she was such an idiot!
How could she not have seen it? There had certainly been enough clues. Looking back she could count them off one by one. That he claimed to have killed the creature in the holo, yet didn't carry a blaster or vibroknife. That he traveled with a small child as his apprentice, a boy who at one point referred to him as "Master." Annie's wins in the shell game. His Galaxy Scout code of ethics coupled with a naivete of practical matters that she'd actually found charming! And then, of course, there had been Bela, so obviously terrified, who'd suddenly offered up the information they so desperately needed.
Gods, how far did the manipulation go? Had he... Linn's knees buckled and she had to clutch at the Ron's rail for support as the magnitude of it smashed into her. Everything they had done. Everything **she** had done. Linn gagged, working air into her lungs. Could she truly have shared her bed and body with someone who was that depraved?
Could he have made her... Linn sickened with the memory. Jedi had some sort of mind control, everyone knew that. But how far did it extend, how deep? She had no idea, only vague notions that were more legend than the facts with which she had unknowingly been living. She clung to the hope that the one unquestionable use she had seen, his manipulation of Bela, indicated that whatever mind control he could use was pretty crude.
She sighed in frustration. How much longer until she could be away from here? She turned from the ramp to deliver another harangue to the droid and swallowed the curses.
A brown robed figure was striding across the platform. The face and features were shrouded in the depths of the cowl. The robe flowed and swirled, whipping about in the downdrafts on the platform. The gait was unmistakable. Ben. Obi-Wan. Whatever the hell he was called. She could sense the intent and resolve in the walk. He was going to see her, and would obliterate anything in his path to do it.
Her stomach shot down to take up residence somewhere around her knees. Linn fought the urge to run. She didn't have anywhere to go anyway. She considered blasting him into oblivion, but then remembered her weapon was still on the ship. So, she straightened her spine and crossed her arms in front of her and waited with what she hoped was a look of defiance.
Obi-Wan moved swiftly. He did not slow when the Chancellor's guards attempted to block his way. He simply lifted a hand and made a motion as if flicking away an annoying bug. They went flying, and crumpled to the ground in unmoving heaps.
He stopped less than a meter away from her and pulled back his hood. If there was supposed to be any drama, Linn thought, ill again at the recollection, it was immediately lost when he tried to look at her, and had to bury his eyes in the landing platform.
"I'm not supposed to be here," he said.
"Then why are you?" she asked acidly.
He pulled his chin up. "I wanted... I needed to apologize and to say good-bye."
"You think I'm going to let you off the hook for this?" she exclaimed, incredulous. "That I'm going to forgive you? You lied to me!" Linn heard her voice hike more shrilly than she would have liked.
"I don't ask you to forgive me, just to try to understand."
"Understand?" she bit out. "That you lied to me, that you..."
She couldn't finish, closing her eyes to it and falling against the rail again. The prospect was too awful. What do you do when you have to have the truth from a lying, manipulative bastard of a Jedi?
She felt his hand on her arm. "Don't you ever touch me," she hissed, jerking free with such a force it sent him backwards a step. "Ever."
"Linn..."
Only with that tender, caring tone, only with the presumption that he could still lay a hand on her did Linn find the courage. "You violated me!" she finally screamed. "You manipulated me, and everyone I came in contact with." Her voice rose in fury. "Wasn't it enough to get the disk? Did you have to use your Jedi powers to get me into bed too?"
Obi-Wan flinched as if he'd been slapped. She'd drawn blood, and was disappointed that it didn't make her feel any better.
"No!" he protested, and struggled to find the words. "I... mean, I didn't tell you who I was, but Linn, I didn't do what you think." He shook his head violently. "You should know me better than that."
"I don't know you at all," she spat.
"Linn, you can't leave here thinking this."
She heard a real plea there. On this alone, Linn desperately wanted to believe him. "Give me one reason why I should accept a thing you say?"
"Because..."
Linn saw a wild, crazed look in him as he stumbled for something she could trust.
He finally found it. "Because you saw exactly what I could and couldn't do with Bela. Even then you knew there was something wrong, didn't you?"
Linn slowly nodded.
Now he pinned her with his eyes, forcing her to see. "But you never saw or felt or thought anything like that with..." He floundered over the words, then forced them out. "With us, did you?"
She shook her head, finally admitting in a profoundly relieved whisper, "No."
They stood there, at the ramp, an arm's length and a galaxy's breadth apart. Fear had made her think there had been abuse; in her heart, in her mind, she had known the truth and that she couldn't rely on that easy excuse. Which now made the lie hurt all the more. Linn had to shove the sob back down that was forming. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Obi-Wan hung his head. "I was going to. I tried to, but you told me you didn't want to hear it," he replied in a small voice.
He had tried. She knew that, too. "I told you I shouldn't know about matters of galactic security," Linn finally said. "I never said I didn't want to know the truth about the person sharing my bed."
"I never lied about how I feel about you," Obi-Wan gently insisted. "If things were different. If I were free to..."
She believed him, and suddenly had to choke back the stinging tears she had been fighting. "I felt like I was falling in love with you. I thought you were..."
"I was." He took a step toward her, and this time, she let him approach.
"If you felt that way too, how could you have lied to me?"
"Linn, I'm sorry." He tentatively reached out and caressed her cheek. "I understand how you feel..." he began.
"How could you possibly understand?" Linn retorted. The rest of her response vanished as a whole new level of betrayal suddenly yawned in front of her. She stared at him, trying to grapple with the horrible suspicion. He dropped his eyes and his hand and she saw guilt stamped on his familiar face.
Oh Gods. She **couldn't** collapse. She **wouldn't.** It all returned to her in a ghastly echo: How had he always known what to say? How had he always known what to do?
The accusation came out as a gasp. "You've been reading me, haven't you?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swallowed hard, pain etching his features.
"You've been in my head, in my feelings?" His expression told the whole ghastly tale. Her next words were an indictment. "You've been there from the very beginning."
He finally nodded.
It was a violation more profound than any physical one could be. There had been no privacy, no secrecy. He had known everything.
Linn grabbed at the rail, feeling the landing pad buckle under her feet. Outrage swept over her. She pulled herself up and the full import of his duplicity engulfed her. "You made me think you were a soulmate." She twisted the words, wanting him to choke on them. "But you were nothing but a voyeur."
He colored, first bright red, then the palest ash. His mouth moved, but not sound came out. Finally, he rasped, "What I did, there's no excuse for it."
"No, there's not." Linn accused, furious. "You've got the powers. You can't imagine the defilement of knowing someone has been picking through you like a Chadra-Fan on an unsuspecting tourist."
"I can, Linn. Really..."
She broke in, "You couldn't possibly. You sifted through my most private feelings and used that to get what you wanted from me."
"I didn't," he stopped. "I mean, I did access your feelings, but I never used that information for any sort of gain."
"And that's supposed to make a difference?" Linn sneered. She paused a moment and ran her hand across her mouth. "Are you poking around in my mind right now?"
"No," he assured her.
"Too bad. Might have saved me the time of having to tell what a despicable creature I think you are," she mocked. Anger had replaced the loathing. "You knew everything. You knew exactly how much you meant to me, and still, you let it go on. You knew that it would have to end like this."
"But I felt the same way!" he finally protested, voice breaking. "You must know that."
It made her feel marginally better to think that at least he was suffering a measure of the same pain. Her instincts hadn't been wrong. He had cared for her. Deeply. And probably still did. It only made her want to cut the wound deeper.
"I knew it was... unlikely that we could have a future together," he finally said. "I had hoped that..." he trailed off. "I don't know what I hoped. I just didn't want it to end."
"Yeah, well, I guess your exalted Jedi High Council saw to that, didn't they?" she shot back.
Obi-Wan recoiled. "I didn't know that was going to happen. Of that I give you my word as a Jedi."
"Your word's not worth much around here."
Obi-Wan nodded and smirked depreciatively. "No, I suppose not." They stared at each other for a long, tense moment before he spoke again. "What they did to you was cruel and unnecessary."
"Yeah, well, that was nothing compared to what you are all doing to Anakin."
Obi-Wan's eyebrow raised. "What do you mean by that? He's my Padawan, a Jedi apprentice. He's well cared for."
"I saw him as I was leaving the Jedi Temple," Linn said. "He misses his mother. He told me he's not allowed any contact with her."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Anakin presents an unusual situation. His potential was discovered late, unfortunately after familial attachments had already been formed."
"Unfortunately?" she echoed. "How old were you when they took you?"
"I hardly see how that matters," Obi-Wan began.
"How old?" she demanded.
"Less than a year."
"That's barbaric!"
"Familial attachments can be dangerous to children with Jedi potential," he explained. "That sort of attachment can be used as a lever to..."
"Is that in the manual?" Linn scoffed, cutting him off.
"Linn, this is something that you cannot possibly understand."
She went on, ignoring his protest, peppering him with a series of questions. "Do you remember your mother and father?"
"Vaguely. Barely."
"Are they still alive?"
"I don't know."
"Unbelievable," she muttered in disgust. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"A brother."
"Do you know where he is? How he is?"
"No," Ben admitted.
Linn laughed bitterly. "You have no idea what a family is. What that bond entails."
"You're wrong. The Jedi are my family, the only one I've ever known."
"And such a compassionate lot they are." She pointed a finger at him. "I saw more compassion displayed by Dar on an hourly basis than I have in all my encounters with the great and powerful Jedi," she spat.
"That was not typical--" he started.
"But you've just admitted what you're doing to Annie is," Linn interrupted.
"It's something you do not understand, Linn," Obi-Wan, his temper beginning to rise. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Anakin will be fine. I'll see to that."
"You'll forgive me if I don't find that particularly reassuring. One thing he'll certainly learn is how to lie and manipulate if you're to raise him."
"Anakin understood the need for discretion," Ben replied sharply.
"He's nine!!!" Linn yelled. "How could he possibly understand?"
"Not everyone is lucky enough to have had the sheltered childhood that you received," Obi-Wan retorted hotly.
"Right, I forgot how tough it must have been growing up in the Jedi Temple," Linn remarked sarcastically. "I bet you had to worry every day about where your next meal was coming from or whether you'd be able to scrounge enough credits to keep the ship together."
They stared at each other for a long time, tempers cooling marginally, before Obi-Wan finally spoke. "Where will you go?" he asked.
"I don't know. Somewhere really far from here," she replied, staring down at her booted feet. "Back to one of those places you feel so superior to. Somewhere where the currency is goods and information, not lives."
"But you may not be safe there." That he was obviously concerned annoyed her.
"I'll be a lot safer on the fringe, than I ever was with you," she said, snapping her eyes back to his.
Another awkward silence ensued until the droid emitted a series of beeps and began to remove the fueling mechanism. She was free to go, and suddenly felt her feet were glued to the ground.
"I'll never forget you, Linnayn Darrow," Obi-Wan said softly. "Never."
She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt herself soften just a bit. He looked so lost, so pathetic. And then she remembered that at this very moment he could feel her weakening resolve and all her anger rushed back in wave. "And I shall forget you in the bed of every smuggler and fringe low life I can lay my hands on."
She heard but didn't see his short gasp of pain, as she was already halfway up the ramp toward the cocoon of her ship. Without looking back, she sealed the hatch and rushed to the cockpit. Within moments, she lifted off the pad and rocketed toward the safety of space.
***
The tea was very fine and quite rare. He rolled the delicate brew about his tongue, aerating it to maximize the bouquet. Yes, it was just as the merchant had promised -- a hint of gold Alderaanian yallow.
He savored a second sip, and then perceived another feast for his senses. Someone, someone quite close, was in immense pain. Again, he lolled the warm liquid, delighting in how the aroma drifted up just as it was to be consumed. Then he set down the cup. It was necessary to take his time, of course, and maintain focus. One mustn't mix the pleasures of tea with the delectable misery of a being. It confused the palate.
That was the odd thing about it. The being was familiar. It was human. Male. And was no stranger to... yes, that was it... despair, guilt, and searing loss. His nostrils flared, inhaling the swirling emotions carried on the wings of the Force.
He flipped an intercom switch at his hand. Such things were meant to be savored immediately. Like a meal at the peak of preparedness, it could not wait. "D427?"
"Sir?" his protocol droid responded.
"Please cancel my lunch appointment with the Rodian delegation. Something has arisen."
"Of course, Sir."
"And no visitors please."
"What of Mistress Taria, Sir?"
Droids. He loathed them as much as the other lesser species which infected the galaxy. "Mistress Taria is not a visitor, D427. Do not make the same mistake again."
He rose from the immense desk and prowled across his office. His feet made no noise, sinking luxuriantly into the plush, deep blue carpet. He followed the emotional stain in the Force as a carnivore would follow a trail of blood. The track led to the immense wall of glass at the far end of his suite.
He perceived things dually. There were the obvious visual clues of sight, and the ones he perceived through the Force. Below him, on the landing pad, **his** landing pad, a ship had berthed. A dingy, nasty ship. He really must speak to his guard corps about this.
On the platform, a Jedi stood. Ahhh. That answered that question and explained the familiarity. He licked his lips. This was simply delicious. First he lost his Master. And now, the young knight was losing his first woman. Desperation. And such guilt. Longing. What were they teaching at the Academy these days, he wondered.
Not that the woman seemed to be much of a loss, he thought cryptically. He was an immense admirer and critic of the female form. This one had no sense of style, power, or grace. For these purposes, though, he did concede, she was magnificent. Flashing, passionate anger, pain so bloody and fresh, birds of prey should be circling. Oh, what had the young knight done to earn such vicious hatred?
How very touching. It was all ending. Badly. And right at his feet.
A twinge of irritation returned. Why did it have to be on **his** landing pad?
A chime announced an intruding presence. The Force told him it was a welcome one. Sei entered the room, and glided its length to join him at the window.
He took a step back, clearing his mind for the moment of the buffet laid out below. Noting his regard, Sei said nothing, but slowly turned about, so that he could admire her from all sides and angles.
She wore a deep yellow. If the tea had been a fabric, Sei wore it today. Sensual. Vibrant. A wondrous septsilk gown. No adornment. Nothing to detract from the glory of the cloth and textures, and how it bound and draped her body.
The tea, the surging emotion of the lovers below, and Sei's gown and form melded into an orgy of sensation. He was becoming quite aroused. It was luscious, to feel the pressure and churning blood, and then to experience the exquisite pain of denying it. However pleasurable the release was, the denial of it was that much more extraordinary.
It was a lesson young Obi-Wan Kenobi had obviously not yet learned.
Delectable. He nodded his approval and returned to observing the scene below. "Who is on my landing platform, Sei?"
"Jedi Knight Kenobi, Sir. He has just returned with a holo transmission intercepted from Naboo space."
"And the woman?"
"Linnayn Darrow."
Yes, of course. His assassins had been quite busy trying to prevent the recovery and delivery of this transmission, and then eliminating those who might have seen it. He would have to inform them of his displeasure later.
"We will be receiving a report from Jedi Adi Gallia soon, I should imagine," he said.
"I wonder which version, though," Sei asked.
She was perceptive. As ruthless as she was decorative. He had considered taking her to bed. Sei would have been willing enough, or would have pretended. He much preferred her in this pristine state though, unspoiled by feigned passion and crude familiarity.
"A rich red would become you tomorrow," he said.
"Of course, Sir."
Darrow stormed up her ramp. In moments, her ship roared away, leaving the devastated knight on the platform.
The tight machine of his mind slowly turned as he considered how this incident could be contorted for his ends.
First, the assassins. It would be necessary to punish them, of course.
But, should he have Linnayn Darrow killed? He could think of a score of cutthroats who would delight in the assignment. Although not to his liking, she might be some sport for them. On the other hand, the Jedi now had the transmission; killing her would be a waste, and he so disliked waste.
More importantly, he had sensed from her intense, furious hatred of the Jedi. What role had they played? Adi Gallia would tell him, although, as Sei had asked, what story would they try to spin for him?
He concluded that the universe would be a more perilous place for the Jedi if Linnayn Darrow remained in it.
He needed a new Apprentice. The loss of both Master and woman might be the wedge he needed for young Obi-Wan Kenobi. The knight was talented and he seemed to have recently developed a defiant streak that could be very useful. He would chafe under the rigidity of the Council.
Obi-Wan had, so far, he perceived, only flirted with the Dark, as Darrow had evidently discovered. Would he be able to go beyond sampling, and truly consume the Dark?
No, he thought not. He had a glimmer of a vision and smiled softly.
"Sir?" Sei questioned. She was ever so discerning.
"Merely thinking of the future, my dear."
Obi-Wan Kenobi would best serve his purposes by remaining right where he was, the Dark Side told him.
But what of Obi-Wan's Apprentice? Sometimes, the Jedi truly did make his job that much easier. Could they be more complacent? More arrogant? Did the Council truly fail to comprehend the consequences of a callousness that could rival his own?
Through no interference of his own, the Jedi Council had already sown the seeds of hate and anger. If allowed to fester, when the time came, with the right levers, it might be possible to move Anakin Skywalker.
What of this event? Could he use this as well? Very possibly. What affected the Master, affected the Padawan as well. It bore closer consideration and meditation. Another reason to keep Darrow alive, he thought.
Obi-Wan had been staring up at the piece of sky into which Darrow had disappeared. Such anguish. Such passion. Such loss. This was not an event from which the knight would ever recover.
He smiled broadly.
"Sir?" Sei inquired again.
Turning from the window, he strolled back to his desk. The tea in the pot would still be quite warm.
"I noticed that you canceled your luncheon appointment. Have you decided to attend the Neimoidian memorial service after all?"
They had been so useful, he considered. Nute Gunray and Rune Haako. How very unfortunate that with some assistance, they had agreed to a suicide pact.
"I think not, Sei. Please arrange to have our condolences sent to the remains of the Trade Federation delegation."
"Another fruit basket, Sir?"
She was quite clever. Neimodians had deathly allergies to most citrus fruits.
"That would do nicely, Sei."
***
Yoda hobbled to the edge of the Jedi Tower observation deck. The hum of Coruscant throbbed about him, lights, sounds, beings, all pressed and compacted together. It was enough to drive him to the solitude of his swamp retreat. And today had been particularly trying.
He sighed deeply, clearing his mind. With the ease of centuries of practice, a filter snapped into place. Like a volume control, the pulsating Force dimmed in intensity, but left his strong, sure connection to it untouched.
The being he sensed approaching afforded him a genuine pang of pleasure he had not enjoyed for some time. "Finally, you come," he announced testily to the Jedi Master emerging from the lift. He had known her for over 40 years, a short time in the life span of his species, but a half a lifetime in the span of hers. Depa Billaba had been his Padawan. In the basics of many aspects of the Jedi way, she had been hopelessly inept. Her lack of expertise with a lightsaber was a matter of legend. Her control over objects and beings had never advanced beyond that of the most basic apprentice level. But no other of the human species in the history of their Order had ascended to Jedi Master more quickly and with greater unanimity.
The divination of the human condition was her peculiar gift. In this, she had always been his Master. Indeed, he had taken her as his Padawan, a rare event in itself, recognizing this unique talent; a talent he candidly knew he did not have. Humans were intractable, unfathomable, torn by emotional tides that were foreign to his own, and many other species. What he could comprehend of the humans, he had learned from her.
Depa had been oddly silent on the matter before the Council after the death of Qui-Gon Jinn. She had spoken only once, announcing with no fanfare that she believed Anakin Skywalker should be trained and that Obi-Wan Kenobi should be his teacher. That opinion had carried enormous weight with other members of the Council. Only Yoda had dissented.
Depa would not be hurried or goaded. She moved quietly to his side and sighed, an echo of his earlier expression.
"What say you now?" he demanded.
"The Council overreacted," she answered after a time.
This was expected. He responded, "We needed to be certain the woman did not see Obi-Wan again."
"This is hardly the first time a human apprentice or knight has done this," Depa argued. "It will not be the last."
Yoda humphed. It was an old discussion between them.
Depa sensed his irritation and laughed, but with no mirth. "The need for the male and female human to seek each other for comfort is a sociobiological imperative of the species." Her voice took on the role of lecturer on a favorite topic. "If a human Jedi learns that the Force can have a role in this intimacy, the best we can hope for is that training will subdue the behavior. The knight may learn to control it, but it cannot be eliminated. It is foolish to try."
Yes, she had explained it to him and to the Council. Many, many times. Each time it had arisen. And it had seemed the times and infractions had become more frequent. Always they were awkward and painful. Always there was resentment.
She sighed, and turned away, her robe pooling about her feet and sweeping the ground. "The Jedi made an enemy today. No good will come of this."
"What had to be done, we did," Yoda replied, feeling defensive, for he, too, had been troubled by the raw pain so obviously displayed.
"Perhaps. But Mace could have accomplished this in a way that did not make her feel she was a girl for hire who traded her father's life for Republic currency."
Yoda stamped his gimer stick with frustration. Surely she saw this. It had been clear to them all that Obi-Wan might not have been able to end the ill-advised liaison on his own. "Continued it might have. Now..."
"Now, Linn Darrow hates him," Depa interrupted.
Yoda stilled his objection, shifting uncomfortably. "And Obi-Wan?" he finally asked.
He sensed Depa quiet her mind, and turn her focus outward. How did she do it, Yoda wondered. What did she see when she fixed her gaze on the Coruscant skyline that never dimmed?
She finally said, "He will defy the Council and the Code and try to see her one more time. He will learn what he already knows. Between them, it is most certainly over."
"Know this or believe it, do you?" he asked.
"I know it."
Yoda recognized the tone and trusted her conclusion implicitly. He was relieved with the resolution of this problem. But what of the far more serious matter, what of the boy?
"Ready he was to be a knight. Not a teacher. Anakin's master, he should not have been."
"I do not believe that we can sever the bond now. Not without significant risk to the child."
He and Mace had concluded as much. But Depa's own insight mattered immensely, too. That she concurred added greater legitimacy to what might otherwise be contested in the Council.
Depa turned again, toward him. She stooped down, and balancing, placed her hand on top of his. Time seemed to slip backward, and again, she was his precious, beloved Padawan. "You wonder, Master, why I opposed you on Anakin's training?"
He nodded.
Depa closed her eyes, and drew within herself, an exercise he had taught her. Even when they disagreed, even when he felt she erred, even though pride should have no place, he was proud of her, of her balance, of her ordered nature.
She exhaled the deep breath. "There were the obvious reasons. In teaching Anakin what he himself lacked, Obi-Wan would be forced to learn patience and care. Also, I would not easily disregard the dying wish of Qui-Gon."
Yoda nodded. This much he, too, had ascertained.
But she had not finished. "Obi-Wan lost his own Master traumatically. I was very concerned for him and believed that a Padawan to train might be the only way to heal that wound."
This was something he had not even considered. An unpleasant thought occurred to him. "Depa, that Obi-Wan would behave in this matter, did you foresee?"
It was a fair, if confrontational, question. But Depa was too composed to rise to his challenge. She was also too honest not to answer.
"If you mean, did I foresee this specific end, no, Yoda, I did not. I did know that Obi-Wan was very vulnerable and would stumble. And that this was a likely direction for him to fall."
He wondered if she would have moved to prevent it if she had known. Depa did have her own agendas.
She smiled, comprehending him. "I **did** try to warn him, Yoda."
"And still, knowing all this, to Obi-Wan you entrusted Skywalker?"
Depa shifted her weight, not really needing his arm for support in her crouching position, but like him, finding a comfortable familiarity in it. "Obi-Wan blames himself for Qui-Gon's death. To atone he intended to train Anakin whether the Council permitted it or not. Sanctioning it, we would at least not lose all control over the relationship." She could not resist adding, "I believe the wisdom of that course was demonstrated today."
Yoda had to admit that Depa had been more foresighted than he had on this point. But, it was in her nature to seek order, not score points in a game of recrimination. And so, she continued, "You are right, Yoda. Anakin is very dangerous. Any time I seek guidance on his path, all avenues within the Force erupt in chaos."
She had seen the same things then? He was not surprised. Again, despite the gravity of the charge, his heart welled with pride that his former apprentice had such insight and inner balance. But, why then had she opposed him?
"Yoda, a Sith had died. We knew there must be another. Whether Obi-Wan killed the Master or the Apprentice, the survivor would seek a new Apprentice." She rested her head lightly on his hand and spoke her fear. "What would happen if a Sith Lord found and trained Anakin before we did?"
The air closed in about them. "Knew his mother, he did." Yoda finally said, stroking her head. All the Jedi were dear to him. Depa he loved as a father loved a daughter who had blossomed into an equal. "Knew her too well. Too long. Open to the dark side, is he."
Depa raised her head. "We claim children when they are infants. They never know their parents. In some species, this does not matter. But for most humans..."
"No!" he retorted, as angry as only his Padawan could accomplish. Yoda shook his head vehemently. "For this reason, know their parents Jedi should not."
She raised her hand and stroked his face, easing his irritation. "Yoda, you know this better than any," she said ever so gently. "That some humans seek their biological parents does not mean they love their Jedi family less."
Once again, his Padawan had delivered a lesson to her Master, couched in logic and love. Yoda touched the mark of illumination Depa wore on her forehead. In remembrance of her murdered parents.
Master and Padawan, Master and Master, Padawan and Master, the roles shifted, as they should, with neither ever attaining mastery over the other. The understanding forged in and through the Force transcended the differences of age, sex, and species. Why wasn't this bond of heart, spirit and mind enough for others, he wondered.
She smiled, knowing that he had perceived her message, and slowly stood, to pace, her skirts moving quietly. As her face deepened into a frown, Yoda realized she was deeply troubled. And this disturbed him.
"The chosen one is to bring balance, Yoda. What does that mean?"
He watched her thoughtfully. "Meditated on this, you have."
She nodded, her face silhouetted in stark relief against the bright, nightless sky. "Does it mean that we are imbalanced now?" Depa asked. "Have we gone too far? And if so, in what direction? Must our existing order be overturned before a new equilibrium can be found?"
"Old the Jedi are," Yoda replied, feeling very ancient and tired.
"Maybe too old. Maybe too rigid when we cannot respond with understanding to the needs and pain of the young." Depa paused, then finally spoke with calm acceptance. "We have failed them, Yoda. The Force tells me that we shall all suffer for this lack of compassion."
"You believe this?" he asked.
"I know it."
THE END