YES! I finally posted the next chapter! XD
Shoutouts: (going to be a rather long list, as you all make me feel loved)
Kyer: Well…glad you liked it. I'm assuming that was a good rave.
Kynstar and kayladie: I just had to put a witty comment at the end… (grins) To make up for chapter seven's cliffy, I guess.
NathanPostmark and Kitkat: Since you both said "awesome", I'm supposing there's some truth to that, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy… and Kitkat, thanks for the love… (grins again)
BekaJWP: Hi! And thank you! And about avoiding the incest kiss…well, I'm sure I share the same sentiments with everyone. I thought it was a fairly safe bet that Leia would rather kiss the clone of an old general than her own brother.
Luke, Kaial, and "Anakin" Skywolf: (steals line from Threepio) Oh…perfect… Heehee. You guys are great.
Lena Breeze: Yes, I had some troubles with limiting myself from all the different possibilities. The story you see here is the best track I found out of many.
Jedi Nifet: I deliberately made Obi-Wan unusually powerful; after all, he's back from the dead and even if he doesn't remember any of his "down time", he has explored realms and found out secrets that no other living sentient has been/is privy to. Sort of like his spirit's taken an amnesiac sabbatical and come back with more knowledge regardless. ;) Darth Real Life attacks again, eh? I can sympathize…
Jedi from Rohan: Okay, I guess all the earlier shoutouts to Elf with a Lightsaber belong to you now.
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED, AND KEEP IT UP! You have no idea how I anticipate going on a day after posting and seeing what sort of feedback I've been getting… My, my, I sound rather pathetically dependent. :P Truth is, I'd keep posting, reviews or not. They just make me a lot happier.
Not so much action this time around, mostly effects, ergo the title.
A note: This chapter contains several references to my fic Hermitage. Jedi Dawn is, after all, its sequel. So if you haven't read Hermitage, I recommend you do so to avoid confusion.
Cause and Effect
The wind buffeted him through the opening even before the tubular lift had brought him to the hatch, carrying his hair in front of his eyes. He'd let it grow to about three inches already, seeing no reason to cut it yet. It was close to the length he'd had in his years as a general, and then a recluse. But he remembered he'd soon have to shave his scraggly teenager's beard, as it was beginning to look rather unkempt. Looking one's best had always been one of the priorities in the Temple; it would impress diplomats, if nothing else, and win (discriminatory) favor with those who were so inclined to judge by looks alone. The Masters had always been cautious to press the injustice of this and that every sentient had a beauty to them, no matter the species or sub-race.
But right now Obi-Wan had more immediate concerns to look after. His head came up through the opening, and he reached out about half a meter to grasp Luke's ankle, pulling the young man toward him and down to the hatch, gradually releasing his levitation.
"We're in, Captain."
As the lift sank back down, Obi-Wan shifted Luke's position to lean against him and tilted Luke's head back so he could look down into the half-open sky-blue eyes.
"Luke. Look at me, Luke." He knew the cauterized stump of Luke's right arm wasn't quite so urgent to look after as the possibility of shock.
The blue eyes gradually focused in on him and suddenly Luke went rigid, staring back up at him. "You…"
Obi-Wan's heart sank.
"You lied to me."
"No, Luke, I'd never lie to you. I was protecting you by telling a truth from a certain point of view."
Luke shook his head, his confused eyes darting around the lift. "You lied…you said he killed my father, but he is…" He choked on the words that wouldn't come, that stuck painfully in his throat. If the proclamation delivered by Lord Vader had been a physical blow, it might have killed him.
"Luke. Look at me."
Luke refused to meet his eyes.
"Look at me." Obi-Wan's voice was more insistent, and this time the young man obeyed. Obi-Wan gentled his tone as he employed the voice of reason. "Think, Luke. What would be my motive in such a thing?"
They had reached the bottom of the lift, and the door slid open to reveal everyone but Lando, who was piloting the Falcon back out into vacuum.
Luke smiled faintly, though it was a hesitant, shallow expression. "I guess you're right."
Obi-Wan smiled back down at him and helped him to walk out of the cramped lift into the waiting arms of Leia.
Wordlessly, she embraced him tightly, careful to avoid touching his arm.
He winced regardless. "Leia…"
"Come." Obi-Wan put a light hand on Luke's shoulder. "Let's get you looked after."
As he and Leia led Luke off to the small med station, Lando's hardened voice cut in over the intercom. "Han, we've got a problem."
Han cursed and limped back toward the cockpit. "Now what?"
The remaining party stopped and listened to the throbbing whine of the ion engine reach a crescendo before dying off.
"They'll be in range of our tractor beam in moments, lord." Admiral Piett held himself with quiet assurance at the bridge's main viewport alongside Darth Vader.
"Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the Millennium Falcon?" Vader wanted no mistakes. The sooner he was able to subdue the Falcon's living content, the better, chiefly in Luke's case. Better to wrest the boy from Kenobi's teachings while they had not yet taken root in Luke's open mind, forever closing that door to Vader's desired influence.
"Yes, my lord." Piett was supremely confident that all had gone well, and was still sharp enough to keep a close eye on proceedings. Vader liked how Piett operated most of the time; except for the occasional lapse in courage the admiral modeled a true Imperial.
"Good. Prepare the boarding party and set your weapons for stun." Vader reasoned there was something to squeeze from each member that would benefit the Empire in some way.
"Yes, my lord," Piett replied, and did a smart about-face. The Sith lord wondered momentarily if Piett had guessed what he'd been thinking and was bound to impress his superior further. The admiral was a bright enough man; after all, that was the primary reason he'd made it onto the Executor in the first place. Here it was that Vader cultivated his men. The officers that left Vader's flagship were known as the best in the Imperial Navy. The fact that Piett had ascended to the rank of admiral spoke remarkably of his abilities…and also the misfortune of his former superior officers. That aside, Vader hoped the man wouldn't needlessly destroy himself in a moment of foolishness. Reputations and order had to be immaculately kept, and Piett knew he was walking a very thin line.
Which was why Vader sensed the admiral throwing a worried glance over his shoulder at the Falcon before continuing on his latest assignment.
Artoo tweedled as he observed the sunken pit that housed the hyperdrive, and the irked sentients inside it.
"Dear me," complained Threepio from his seat by the dejarik gameboard, "I don't see how someone couldn't have found the time to repair my arm by now.
Artoo, why don't you come over here and—"
The protocol droid's suggestion was cut off by an irritated series of raspberries emanating from Artoo.
"My goodness—"
"Give it a rest!" Han barked from his position in the hyperdrive pit. He thumbed his comlink and held it up to his mouth. "How're we doing for time?"
"Not much left," came Lando's strained voice. "Make it quick. No doubt they're powering up their tractor beams."
Han cursed and flicked off the comlink. "Found anything yet?"
Chewbacca roared a vexed negative, pounding a piece of hardy-looking equipment with a monstrous wrench.
"Be careful!" Han snapped. "You're going to give us another problem!"
Han's sharpened voice carried down the corridor to where Luke lay on the med cot, his arm stump bandaged firmly into a protective cuff.
Leia gently sponged off his forehead with a wet cloth while Obi-Wan looked after the monitors.
Suddenly Luke's eyes opened. "Father."
Confused, Leia looked to Obi-Wan, who stood staring down at the boy that had used to be his young charge…Obi-Wan wasn't so sure about that anymore.
"What's he talking about?" Leia asked softly, pitching her voice so only Obi-Wan could hear.
He set his mouth firmly as the Falcon rocked under their feet. "That's one of many things we need to discuss later."
Luke winced. "Ben…"
Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, still sensing the betrayal in Luke's voice. "Luke, I can't make you understand. You need to accept this yourself."
"But why didn't you tell me?" Luke thirsted for an answer, searching his mentor's face desperately.
Unsure to the point of frustration, Leia also turned her scrutiny upon Obi-Wan. "What's going on?"
Mara paced one of the back corridors in the Falcon. The others were busy enough not to notice her absence, though she knew Kenobi would be looking for her soon.
But she was busy in her own way, her mind working at unraveling the subtleties that hid in the back of her mind, waiting to be uncovered by some catalytic thought.
Wheels within wheels within wheels. The Emperor has something up his sleeve in this. He didn't abandon me simply because I failed him. That might have been an explanation at another time, but there's something else. There is another reason…but what is it? She strove for the answer that wouldn't come. Mara was convinced of its existence. It was exactly like something that old Palpatine would have concocted. Why had he discarded her? Why did he wish for her absence? The reason had to be more than it seemed.
She frowned, and stopped wandering, standing straight with her hands clasped at the small of her back. Maybe this isn't so much to do with my absence as my presence elsewhere. Does Palpatine want me here, wanting me to believe he has discarded me?
It sounded like ludicrous nonsense. Why would the Emperor deliberately turn a powerful servant's allegiance to the Rebellion? There's a hidden reason, she knew. There must be a hidden reason. Either that, or he's going mad.
But even insane persons keep their death-hold on power. Her mind reeled at the concept. Even with a total lack of lucid thought, the old man would be incredibly dangerous in the way of instability rather than cunning.
Mara knew this line of thought deserved more inspection, but it would have to wait. The Falcon rocked under enemy fire; perhaps if she offered her help they wouldn't all be blown to atomic particles, slight as their odds might improve with her assistance.
Determined, she altered her course to the main hold where she knew the hyperdrive was being worked over. The question still remained whether Solo would actually accept her help or not. Mara couldn't blame him if he turned her down; she'd already tried to kill him twice, and first impressions were always lasting. Still, she supposed it was worth a try.
Sure enough, Solo and the Wookiee were practically tearing the drive apart. She walked up and looked down into the pit. "Want any help?"
They both looked up at her simultaneously.
"I can deal with it myself," Han growled.
Mara shrugged and walked off to the cockpit silently.
"What was that about?" Han wondered aloud to Chewbacca.
The Wookiee shook his furred head. [Maybe she's finally coming around. Hand me that pro-wrench?]
Then a thought finally occurred, delayed by the stress and adrenaline of the moment. "Wait a minute! Chewie, check the hyperdrive motivator. I'm thinking the Imps had a good chance at some minor sabotage, one way or another." Hearing an agreeing grunt from his copilot, Han levered himself up to the deck and peered into a sunken box in the control panel, investigating it closely. "Hey…" He grinned at his discovery, reaching in and pinching the tab of metal between his index and middle fingers to give it a simple twist.
Strange how such small movements had the potential to define the life or death of a man. Piett had quickly given up staring after the spot where the Millennium Falcon had disappeared; now his attention was riveted on every motion made by Lord Vader, who silently watched the stars for a moment before contemplatively turning to pace out of the bridge.
Admiral Piett exchanged a brief glance of relief with the captain. A few more days had been added to the end of their lives, days that had been in question the moment they'd taken up command and servanthood on the Executor.
"Mara."
His voice intruded upon her absent mind. After the Falcon had finally leapt into hyperspace, Lando had left the cockpit, left her in the spacious copilot's seat to stare out at the patterns.
Mara managed to make the seat swivel by planting her palm firmly on a smooth spot of the control panel and pushing. Her view became unimpeded by the back of the chair, allowing her to see him standing at the rear of the cockpit. She could see he wasn't needing a vocal response, so she gave him none, simply met his unflinching gaze.
Obi-Wan smiled warmly. "Thank you."
"For?"
"Resisting the urge to kill while I wasn't there."
She rolled her eyes. "I only tear people apart and eat them either when I'm ordered to, or when their blatant stupidity makes it irresistible."
He only sighed. "We've all had our fair share of less-than-clever moments. But—"
"You didn't come here to talk about that," she finished for him. "I know you can see that something's bothering me."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Something Imperial. Believe me, I'm familiar with the feeling."
"Undoubtedly," she returned dryly. "Palpatine has a pure twenty-three up his sleeve, I know it."
He moved smoothly into the seat opposite from her. "A very dangerous sabacc, you mean?"
"There's something about this whole thing I like even less than before. He didn't cast me off because I displeased him. There's an ulterior motive. I know he wants me here for some reason."
Obi-Wan frowned. "Interesting, that he would hand over the loyalty of one of his most powerful servants to his enemies. You're right, something smells intricately rotten."
Mara couldn't help the brief amusement at the similar train of thought he had unknowingly shared with her. "I think it might have a lot to do with the general company I'm keeping, but I can't be sure."
"Did he send you here to win Luke's trust?" Obi-Wan mused. "But that doesn't sound right, either. He wants Luke's power, and if you rooted yourself in the Rebellion and became a friend to Luke, that would be all the more reason for him to stay; is that what he's thinking?"
Mara shook her head. "The main reasons he's staying are Solo, Organa, and you. He wouldn't need my companionship to make a difference."
"Precisely. That means you were planted here to accomplish a different objective." Obi-Wan's brow furrowed into its accustomed thinking position as he watched the light washing over the cockpit.
"Remember," said Mara, "that Palpatine's still thinking I'm sore at him from my desertion, and that I'm unaware of whatever he's cooking up. In that perspective, there's no reason for me to return to the Empire; my allegiance would naturally turn elsewhere."
Elsewhere, thought Obi-Wan, not specifically the Rebellion. I'll still have to keep a close eye on her. "So, it's likely his schemes center on you developing an attachment of some kind that demands…loyalty…toward somebody in this group."
"I'd bet my personal armory it's you, Kenobi."
He focused on her eyes again, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "I don't have an inclination to take sucker bets, Mara. What I'm interested to know is if his plan is working thus far."
"That'll take a messy situation with both of us in it for you to find out." Her expression remained stoically smooth.
"We already had one," he reminded her. "I wouldn't value your loyalty as much as your trust."
Mara stared at him narrowly. "Bad decision, Kenobi. That's something even harder to win. But we're getting off the subject. We're attempting to figure out what flavor of pie Palpatine has his finger in."
Then Obi-Wan received a flash of inspiration. Mara watched his spine straighten as he broke her gaze to stare out of the cockpit. "He wants you here…beside me. You're here for my protection." He looked back to her, expecting a mildly shocked expression. Instead he acquired from her a calculating, watchful gaze. "You're here as an insurance, because while I'm here, Luke is here, and while Luke is here—"
Mara understood in an instant. "Vader won't have him," she concluded. "Palpatine's afraid of them joining together, isn't he? But why would Skywalker do that?" she wondered quizzically. "I thought he hated Vader."
"There's something else that merely four living people in this galaxy know of, by my reckoning," Obi-Wan said grimly.
"And you're one of them."
His silence spoke measures of its own.
She absorbed this quietly. Kenobi wasn't the type to reveal anything important before he knew it appropriate to do so, and no amount of interrogation would get her anywhere. "So Palpatine also wants Organa here, doesn't he? I imagine she's sensitive as well."
Obi-Wan affirmed this with a single nod. "Of course, if this is his strategy, it holds something of an advantage for us as well. Luke and Vader's power combined would be far more destructive, and might topple Leia as well. Against three of their power…" He shook his head. "I can't think of anything that would be able to stand in their way. There would be nothing left for the Jedi Order to pick up from."
"It's the first I've ever heard of old Palpatine opting for galactic preservation," Mara mused. "But then, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"
Obi-Wan was burdened with a heavy austerity. "No, Mara. This isn't the first occasion Palpatine's had his finger in a Skywalker pie."
It was the first nightmare he'd had in over three decades.
A surprise, to be sure.
Normally, he didn't recoil from the sight and smell of blood. Everyone else thought it was his nature to welcome it, nay, to cause it to flow. But this blood was different. It spoke of the betrayal of a slaughtered family, of sons and daughters watching their parents die before their eyes, of mothers and fathers wailing their lost children, the dead and the traitors.
He had been seen as a family friend, before the Purges. Now he was a mortal enemy of the rare survivors. These totaled at two, though one he did not yet know was still alive. It had been assumed that the diminutive Council elder had perished in the bombings and ravaging conflagration that had taken the Jedi Temple.
But the other, the one that had returned; the young voice plagued his subconscious. Day and night, night and day.
Now it amplified into the nightmare. It didn't matter what the young voice named his lost child as; student, son, friend, Padawan. The voice echoed unceasingly, accusing him of being the catalyst.
Today this lost child was called betrayer, foreigner, enemy…Sith. He would never be the same. He would forever be molded under two masters.
Then a different voice rebounded within; a woman's keening wail that lasted beyond human breath, to the very borders of human grief. He had crushed her hopes, killed her trust, taken her love, and finally murdered her.
Now the young voice was the coldest, the most biting he'd ever heard from a Jedi, where the frigid blame stretched past vocal nuances into the Force itself. "See what you inflict upon the trustworthy. Liar, backstabber, traitor, deceiver. For your end there is reserved a warrior. Your reckoning day will come."
Anyone else would have sat upright rigidly in a cold sweat.
Palpatine only laughed as the blood flowed, and accessed a freshly broken connection.
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.
Mara stood up in a flash and began to make a bolt for the door.
He rose quickly to stand exactly in her way, gripping her shoulders as soon as he saw the glint of murderous intent in her malachite eyes. "Where do you think you're going?"
The glimmer faded as she fought to control herself. "I…"
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.
She yelled hoarsely and formed a fist that he barely had enough time to avoid before its square impact with his nose.
"Mara!" Seeing the necessity, he wrestled her to the ground. "Mara, what's gotten into you?"
"It's him," she roared, glaring up at Obi-Wan. "Get off, I have to—"
"Push him out," he cut in firmly, still forcibly pinning her down. "You are not his pawn any longer. Make him learn that."
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.
Mara shuddered under the power of the conflicting orders.
"Think, Mara! Where does your allegiance lie?"
From Kenobi's tone, she knew he wasn't necessarily expecting the answer that he wanted. Well, she wasn't going to disappoint him. "With myself," she snarled back up. "Get off, Kenobi, I'm not going to kill anyone. I'd be a fool to."
Unconvinced, he stayed put, watching her carefully. "What is he telling you?"
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.
She was forming a small resistance to the compulsion, perhaps out of pure will. "He's telling me to kill Skywalker. Don't you dare let me." She was determined to sever her Imperial ties, and would see fit to disobey all of Palpatine's orders from this point forward.
"I won't," he promised, knowing his reasons for keeping Luke alive differed from hers. That hardly mattered at this point, though.
Mara managed to relax at her victory over one man and defeat under another. "Are you going to get up on your own, or make me remove you?"
Sensing the danger had passed, Obi-Wan rose. "I'm sorry for the necessity of that, but I won't apologize for my intervention."
"You don't have to." She seemed to look at him through one eye, her face turned away slightly.
He paused, standing stock-still. That one shimmering malachite eye was narrowed to a shockingly familiar slit. She has the eye of the krayt dragon, he realized, expanding on the parallel of Mara and that Tatooine night. And if something doesn't happen, Palpatine's going to drive her to her own destruction for what value she has left to him.
Mara's stare was riveting, penetrating. She finally broke the silence. "He assigned me as your bodyguard. Sort of redundant, isn't it?"
He murmured: "Quis custodiet ipsos custodiet?"
"What?"
Obi-Wan smiled sadly. "It's a question in an ancient tongue, posed to me by a friend at the fall of the Jedi.
'Who shall guard the guardians?'"
"I'm telling you, I don't like it."
Lando watched the holographic k'lor'slug move one block. "Neither do I. But there's only so much we can do about it anymore."
Han rolled his eyes and sat back. "Not just the general situation. I don't like what's going on between Luke and Vader. There's something about this that he and Kenobi know, and I don't."
"Maybe that's because it should stay that way," suggested Lando, eyeing his dejarik pieces critically. "Everyone's got their secrets."
The captain shook his head, ignoring the itch under the bandage on his heel. "You and me both, pal."
"Although," Lando said thoughtfully, "the general did pull Mara aside for a little chat while the three of us were going for our walk. The look on his face… Oh, I don't know. They'll tell about it when they need to."
"Easy for you to say. I never thought I'd say this, but…" Han grimaced. "Kid's become like a little brother. I don't want anything to happen."
Lando didn't laugh, didn't grin, just sat there staring at the gameboard. "Kind of like Jarik, huh?"
Jarik "Solo", the streetrat Han had taken under his wing, so to speak, during his stay on Nar Shaddaa. Jarik, who had stolen Han's last name out of a simple need for any name, and who had become like a little brother even after Han found the kid had lied to him about his identity. Jarik, who had died on Ylesia.
Han sighed. "Yeah. Like Jarik."
There came a time in most sentients' lives where they had to question their own sanity, their own discernment. Sith lords were not excluded.
But more than that, Vader was feeling the weighty pressure of uncertainty. How far had old Kenobi developed this ability? Vader could not help but dwell on the thought. The skill of creasing space-time was not one to be taken lightly. Kenobi had folded space. Did the ability extend to the other component of the fabric? More importantly, if he could fold time, did that matter? Would he dare not employ the skill? If he did, would he simply vanish for all eternity, or alter history?
Would he somehow prevent the rise of the Empire from ever happening?
Paradoxes and possibilities reeled in thick messy streams through Vader's mind. He had difficulty disentangling himself and attempting to set his mind elsewhere. There were too many "what ifs", and his fear was that they might transform suddenly into torrents of "when". By then, it would be too late. Either Kenobi would be destroyed, or he would be unstoppable.
Vader balled up the disordered strands of thought. The concept was ridiculous. The fate of the galaxy almost never rested on one man's shoulders. Almost never. The prophecy was still with him, as was the Force. He was the Chosen One. He couldn't allow his former teacher to gallivant around with such enormous power. If such energy was harnessed properly, the rise of a new Jedi Order would be imminent.
There had to be something Vader could do. Luke was proving a difficult fish to catch, though time would tell if the boy's resistance would hold up. Was there some sort of leverage he could hold over young Skywalker? Some alternative form of persuasion he could use, and still keep the boy's strength alive and focused?
It was a difficult objective. Vader would have to meditate on it.
His chamber slowly slid shut along with his eyes, his mind furiously active.
Leia drummed her fingers against the seat edge just beside where her thigh rested as she heard the loud hiss of the pressurization of the docking sleeve that extended to the Falcon. They were finally back with the rest of the main Alliance group, where Leia belonged, where she could delve into her quintessential self and put it to good use.
She still had worries nevertheless. Luke was going through some kind of psychological trauma, the cause of which she hadn't an idea of. Han was doing a poor job of hiding a nervous discontent; her guess was that he'd attempt to pay off what debt he had left in his old life to try and settle in with the Alliance, though he tried to hide that objective as well, for what good it would do him. General Kenobi still seemed to be hiding something that could prove to be pivotal, or at least important. Furthermore, Leia wasn't certain of Mara Jade's political (if not mental) stability, and Lando kept eluding confrontation. Frankly, Leia began to wonder if Chewbacca was having any personal issues that he might be hiding from the group. It was tough to read a face through all that hair, and, excepting a couple of objectionable phrases, she still couldn't understand most of the sounds coming from his mouth. I'd hardly be surprised, at this point, Leia thought, if Threepio had a nervous breakdown. He'd fit in fine with the rest of us.
The sole remaining identity aboard the Falcon wheeled up to her, burbling inquisitively. She sighed, not really caring whatever the droid had asked her. "I'm just glad to be back, Artoo. Really glad."
Artoo tootled cheerfully in response, seeming to be the only stable member in the crew, and wheeled around, undoubtedly searching for Luke.
Leia couldn't help another heavy sigh. Artoo's quite possibly the only one with any sense around here.
One tiny impulse traveled light-footed to the end of the miniscule nerve and continued smoothly through the meld between artificial and biological, up to the whirring control center.
Luke winced a little as Two-Onebee lightly poked his new fingertip, and experimentally flexed the hand. The joints felt oddly more smooth than those of his left hand, and he wondered just how strong these fingers were made to be. Enough, perhaps, to crush the ceramic mug that rested on a small table near the wall? No, the nurse favored that one, he already knew. Plus it seemed to still be half-full of cold caf. His gaze wandered over to the back of his mentor, who stood next to the huge transparisteel viewport at the other end of the ward.
Obi-Wan had already been treated for miscellaneous small injuries he'd sustained, and had refused the nurse's offer of a sedative to make him catch up on lost slumber. The nurse hadn't been easy to convince; Obi-Wan's identity remained a secret throughout most of the base and he wanted it to stay that way until necessary. This meant, of course, that he couldn't reassure her with the idea of a healing trance, and had resorted to "typical teenaged pig-headedness", as the nurse had put it, before stalking off to her next patient.
Obi-Wan, of course, had only smiled quietly at this and returned to his patient vigil at the viewport. Luke wondered what he saw there. Was it the same for him? Did he see the stars as beckoning hosts, inviting him to discover their worlds?
Leia was close by, and saw the question in Luke's eyes when they turned to her.
She smiled. "You're wondering about something."
He only nodded.
Her suggestion was wonderfully simple. "Why don't you ask him about it?"
Luke followed the slight incline of her head back toward the lone figure by the viewport.
His deviant reflection stared at him, smiling with the same ease it had had in that dream world he'd seen on Tatooine. "You're beginning to understand."
Obi-Wan stared back unflinchingly. Now the vision looked to be older than him by several years. He kept his voice quiet, not wishing to disturb the ward. "I assume you're here to tell me Vader still has an important role to play."
"Oh, no," the Padawan apparition shook its head, "not the man you think of. You see a murderer, a tyrannical conqueror. Much like Vader's master. No, we focus on the man Anakin Skywalker still. They are the same entity, but with two different names to two opposite sides, similar to a coin, and it is important we differentiate between those two."
"Anakin Skywalker," Obi-Wan bit out, "no longer exists, no matter how much I wish it so."
The apparition's eyes sparkled like the stars behind them. "Wrong again. You see? This is why you're only beginning to understand. That 'abominable pride' of yours that you burned at the stake on Tatooine, as it were, is starting to return."
Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "You make it difficult for a sentient to keep an open mind. You're the refining fire, and I'm the steel to be tempered."
"I'm merely the bellows," the Padawan remarked. "You're keeping the fire yourself; we only gave you the means to get it started."
"I have many more questions. How many are you willing to hear?"
"All."
"And how many shall you directly respond to?"
The apparition grinned irresistibly. "Good question, that. What do you think?"
"I think you'll soon leave me to another phantom lake." Obi-Wan resisted shaking his head. "Imaginary water will do me no good."
"Nor would it do any harm," the Padawan pointed out. "But it is not simply imaginary water. It is, one could say, a mental embodiment of the Force."
Obi-Wan couldn't deny he was rather pleased to hear this. "And I tapped into it, then? I didn't receive any sense of increased sensitivity, for all that."
"Ahh, dear Obi-Wan." The Padawan apparition's eyes expressed the depth of a millennia-old sage. "You never went in deep enough for your feet to leave the bed."
"So we return to the issue of control," Obi-Wan murmured as he watched the face fade away, leaving his own reflection with its backdrop of stars shining brighter than ever.
Then to his surprise, another face loomed into view, and he turned to meet the true visage.
Luke smiled sheepishly. "Sorry if I distracted you…"
Obi-Wan waved it away. "Nothing to worry about. I see," he said, glancing down, "they're finished with your replacement."
Luke held the new appendage up, allowing it to be inspected. "It feels a little strange, but more realistic than I thought it would be."
"It beats having one without a synthflesh covering, anyhow," Obi-Wan mused. "Cybernetics were somewhat…different, before that invention."
Then Luke discovered what had been causing that feeling of absence. Obi-Wan wasn't supervising anyone. "Where's Mara?"
The Jedi smiled. "I figured she could deal with the 'inauguration' crew herself."
Luke's face lit up. "So she is joining the Alliance?"
"No, not yet. They merely want to make sure she isn't here for espionage. They're allowing her presence as long as she's under my charge. Which reminds me; it looks as if my class has grown."
"What do you mean by that?"
Obi-Wan's eyes were a pair of corusca gems alight. "I'm assuming you wish to keep with your training. Mara also wants instruction." His focus shifted over Luke's shoulder to Leia for a moment. "And if I'm correct, we might have another candidate."
She watched them converse briefly before the general turned his eyes on her. For a long moment Leia stared back, then felt an invisible beckon that wanted to draw her into the quiet conversation.
Luke turned to see her as well, and that was when her feet began following the line that would take her into a spinning turmoil of words, of thoughts, of ideas.
When she finally came to the destination, the general laid a light hand on her shoulder, and said, "Now you both need to know."