Chapter 1: A Last Farewell

Cursing under his breath, fluently and in three different languages, Obi-Wan gathered his belongings. It was, he knew, a normal reaction to the situation. But it was not the response a Jedi should have and that bothered him. He stopped throwing things into his bag and became still, in both his body and mind. He closed his eyes and sought the serene center that is supposed to be there for every Jedi.

Eluding him at first, his search ended when he felt the familiar peace wash over him and the tension leave his body. He opened his eyes and a slight smile appeared on his face. One last deep breath and he turned to his task once more.

Somehow, he sensed that this would be the last time he ever saw these rooms. He had shared these quarters first with his Master and then later with the apprentice that Master had bequeathed to him. Most of his life here at the Temple had been spent within these walls.

It was not really appropriate to miss a place, he acknowledged that fact. But a small corner of his heart ached at the farewell nonetheless. This was, for all purposes, his home. And he was leaving it forever.

He accepted the pang that saying farewell aroused. Then he released his feelings of sorrow to the Force with a sigh. There was nothing to do about it, and this loss was small – comparatively.

Moving quickly to the small, locked box that held the few things he held dear, he palmed the lock and lifted the lid. Not much really, when seen as the sum of a life. But true treasures could not locked away in boxes, not really.

He took out the river stone Qui-Gon had given him when he was just a boy and tucked it away in his bag. Three rare books, gifts from friends over the years, were quickly added. Even in these circumstances, the familiar feel of them brought a smile to his face.

That smile faded as he saw the last item resting on the bottom of the chest. The light reflected brightly off of Qui-Gon's saber. It belonged to the man who had put all of these events in motion. For just a moment, he struggled with the old bitterness.

"Oh, Master," he said quietly. His voice was husky with repressed tears.

Even now, he could not let the damning words pass his lips. His hand shook as he reached in for the lightsaber. It felt comfortable in his grip, almost as if it had been waiting for him to pick it up at last.

He was about to put it in the bag when he stopped and shook his head, knowing that this weapon had another destiny. The Force whispered to him, telling him what he needed to know. His time to keep it had passed, as had so many other things.

Standing up quickly, he closed the bag and slammed the lid down on the chest. The hollow thud of it seemed to be the closing of a door to his past. He took one last sweeping glance of his home and then turned and walked through the doorway without another look back. He was done here.

He found Mace Windu gathering younglings and preparing them to be transported off of Coruscant. The little ones were silent, their faces solemn. This was just the first of many transports which would be filled with Force sensitive youngsters. As quickly and unobtrusively as possible, the young ones were being sent to what they hoped was safety. They could only hope that there would be time to save them all.

"Master Windu," he said as he tapped the warrior's shoulder.

Dark, haunted eyes turned his way. A slight, but genuine smile stretched across his face even as he guided one straying youngster back into the line leading toward the quiet landing pad.

"Obi-Wan, I hoped I would see you before you left," Mace said.

"I couldn't leave without-" Obi-Wan's voice skidded to a halt. Without what? Without saying good-bye forever? For that is what this was, unless the Force gifted them both with a miracle, they would likely never see each other in this life again. And miracles seemed to be in short supply right now. "I wanted to say farewell," he finished firmly.

Mace smiled sadly and clapped the younger man on the shoulder. The time for fooling themselves was long past, and this moment was precious. They both knew it.

"May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan, as you make your journey," Master Windu said. "Your mission may be the most important one ever given to a Jedi," he added quietly. He brought his mouth close to Obi-Wan's ear. "Train the boy well when the time comes. We have faith in you," he said.

He pulled back and his face was drawn into weary lines. "You will not delay in getting the package to its destination?"

A quick shake of his head was the answer, for Obi-Wan did not trust his voice any longer.

"Good, that is all that matters now," Mace said. His eyes wandered over the children of all species and sizes getting loaded into the first transport. "And this is all we can do."

Obi-Wan held out his Master's lightsaber and dropped into Mace's hand. He cleared his throat. "You will need every weapon…" he rasped.

"You do not wish to keep it?"

"What I need to remember my Master, I carry within my heart," Obi-Wan said, his eyes bright with tears that he blinked away.

Mace nodded and his hand closed around the weapon. Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders. "May the Force be with you, Master Windu."

The two men shared one last look, each knowing that the other would face death many times in the coming days.

Obi-Wan glanced at the children one last time and then walked away. He was going to an unimportant planet in the Mid-Rim. He had a small, unmarked ship and forged papers. He carried with him a bag with some clothes, three books, and a river stone. At his belt was his own saber, and in his ship was the weapon that had belonged to his Padawan. It would one day be placed in the hands of his son, if the Force was willing.

Mace Windu stared after the knight whose stride did not falter and who did not look back. Silently, he bid him a safe journey. He knew he would not see Obi-Wan Kenobi ever again. His mission was vital and secret, the hope of the Order rested on those heavily burdened shoulders.

He considered the lightsaber in his hands. Mace thought about its owner, Qui-Gon Jinn, and the face of the man who had put all of this into motion drifted before him. Clipping it to his belt with a quick and fervent prayer that it would be used wisely and well, he turned back to his task.