"Where are they, dammit?" MacEiver's fist slammed down onto my table, dislodging a few items perched precariously atop it. They clattered to the floor, distracting him. "Sorry, Holmes," he muttered, retrieving a battered pocket watch and attempting to replace it on the table. It stubbornly refused to stay put, and he at last gave up and let it slide back to the floor. He seemed embarrassed about his uncharacteristic outburst.

"Which 'they' would you be referring to?" I asked. "We're missing several. Qui-Gon Jinn being the most notable."

MacEiver shook his head. "It's not Jinn I'm worried about. He told me he would not be communicating for several days while he moved the ship to a safer place. And his padawan isn't concerned, for now. He'd be the first to know if anything were wrong. But the others..."

I listed them on my fingers. "Grey Wolf, Ashad ibn Ibrahim, Maeve Stonehaven, and Far Lao."

"Four Jedi in four days," MacEiver growled. "Vanished without a trace, without even a peep of alarm. And one dead." He fell silent.

I nodded slowly. The Jedi had held a memorial service for their dead comrade nearly a week ago now, the same day his body had been found. I had seen some tears, other than Maeve's, but they had hardened into a sort of icy resolve that made my most reserved seem wildly passionate. The Jedi's code may have forbade anger, but I could put no other name to their demeanor than cold fury. I knew, for I felt much the same myself. Over a week since Watson's kidnaping, and we had gotten nowhere.

Worse, all the missing Jedi had vanished while out combing the slums for clues. I felt the responsibility keenly. Moriarty was outsmarting me, and I did not like it at all.

I rubbed my eyes wearily, trying to recall the last time I'd slept. It had been a day or two. Or three. I wasn't certain any more. 221b Baker Street had become, in the past few days, the base of operations. I had not been told the reason why the Jedi did not use Haven instead, an omission I found a little puzzling, since their normal refuge was stuffed with the technology the Jedi were more accustomed to using. The one time I had asked, MacEiver had deflected the question by claiming it was because they wanted me close at hand to pick my brain about Moriarty. I didn't believe him for a moment. I could only guess what Mrs. Hudson thought about the strange guests that now inhabited Baker Street around the clock. She was getting almost as little sleep as the rest of us, running ragged with an endless supply of tea and food. I could only be grateful that the Jedi were trying hard not to be an imposition, and there was at least one of them with Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen at all times, helping her as far as she would allow. It made conversation extremely awkward, though, trying to keep up the pretense that everyone was a perfectly normal citizen of the planet. At least, as normal as anyone associated with me could possibly be.

"All those who have disappeared were conspicuous," MacEiver mused, "those who might appear out of the ordinary in London..."

"Not so," I disagreed. "Maeve looks as English as any Londoner, and dressed as she was when she left she looked no different from any other Whitechapel tart. There are plenty of Chinamen running the opium dens and working on the docks, as well as more legitimate businesses, so Far Lao wouldn't stand out in the slums at all. Both Ashad and Grey Wolf went dressed as gypsies, and but for their height I doubt the average Londoner would think them anything more than one of the many gypsies found passing through at any given time of year." I rose from my chair and placed both hands on the table. "Only someone who knew exactly what they were looking for could have seen through those disguises."

MacEiver's face hardened as I spoke. "No! Holmes, we've discussed this!"

"Neither Moriarty, Mailen, nor their men have laid eyes on any of this group but myself, Watson, Qui-Gon and Ben. Only someone who knew who and what you are–who is intimately acquainted with you–could possibly have given descriptions out and caused the disappearance of those Jedi!"

"No," MacEiver whispered, shaking his head stubbornly. "I won't believe it."

Now it was my turn to slam my hand down on the table, hard enough to send a stack of papers sliding to the floor. "You have to face the facts, Rory! You must consider that there is a traitor among you."

"I can't accept that!" He shouted at me. "I've known and worked with these people for almost ten years! We all believe in the Code!"

I straightened. "I can't believe you would be so naive, MacEiver. And you can't expect me to believe that no Jedi has ever betrayed the Code. You may have talents beyond normal folk, but you are not perfect."

He would not meet my eyes, staring down at his hands, breathing heavily, struggling to bring his temper back under control. "They are my friends, Holmes."

"I know," I replied softly. "I know what it is like. I, too, have been betrayed by one I trusted. It is a hard lesson to learn."

"You would never believe Watson a traitor."

"No," I admitted. "I would not. Watson is not capable of it. But among the many people I have ever met he is remarkable. John Watson is a man of true integrity. And he's a terrible liar."

"And you don't think I feel the same about my people?"

"No, I don't," I said bluntly. He gave me a startled look. "If we had to compare your people to myself or Watson, they are, on the whole, more like me. I, MacEiver, am not a man who would be considered trustworthy. I lie–very well, I might add–and have been known to break a number of laws when the occasion suited my purpose. I am Machiavellian, to an extent–you are familiar with The Prince, I trust?–and from what I've learned of you Jedi you are the same."

MacEiver looked offended. "The ends justify the means? You dare accuse–?"

"I said to an extent, MacEiver. You, me, and, I imagine, most Jedi do draw the line somewhere. We have a moral compass. But in the end, that is the only thing that makes us different from men like Moriarty, and it is a shadowy line indeed. How easy is it to cross?"

MacEiver lowered his eyes. "Too easy," he whispered. Then, softer, "There is no anger, there is no hate..."

"But there is," I said implacably. "What matters is whether or not we act upon it, whether we do something out of anger and hatred, or whether we do something because it is the right thing to do. I believe that one of you has allowed that delusion of 'no anger, no hate' to drive him–or her–over the line."

Still he shook his head. My words were hitting home, and cutting deep. Part of me wished to spare him, but neither Watson nor the missing Jedi could afford for me to stop. "Denying the anger, bottling it away, pretending it isn't there only makes it, in the end, a monster. It erases the line between light and dark."

"No, no it doesn't! The Code–"

"Damn your Code!" I exploded, suddenly angry. "If this is what you people really believe, then it's a wonder you haven't torn the galaxy apart with your arrogance! 'There is no anger, there is no hatred, there is no fear...' That is so much nonsense! There is fear, and anger, and hatred. There is also bravery, and kindness, and love. That is what defines us. Deny evil and you deny the good also. There can be no light without darkness."

"You can't understand!" MacEiver said coldly. "You are not a Jedi."

"No, and thank God for that. I can't believe your Order started out like this. Somewhere along the line someone decided to take controlling your emotions a step too far into stifling them. You strive to be emotionless? To be emotionless is to be passionless, and nothing good was ever accomplished from such a philosophy. Passion is life."

"You're one to talk. What has Watson described you as? A machine?"

"Watson does not really control his emotions, and interprets my behavior according to his. It is a rare thing indeed for my emotions to control my actions, but I do know to allow them out and about every now and then. Can you say the same? Are you not angry now?"

"Dark emotions lead to the dark side. If we allowed ourselves free reign, we could destroy the galaxy."

I threw my head back and laughed. "Such arrogance! Really, MacEiver, you don't understand human nature at all. That's what the moral compass is for. And here I thought you Jedi were supposed to be wiser than average. But now I see that you are, after all, only human, and capable of as much blindness as anyone. That's really rather refreshing, you know."

"I'm so pleased I can provide you with amusement," the little man grumbled.. "I...will think on what you have said, Holmes." He turned to leave.

"MacEiver," I called after him. He paused at the door, but did not turn around. "I know how you feel. I truly do. But you cannot allow emotion to blind you to any possibility, and that is what you are doing."

Now he did turn, his eyes flashing. "After the lecture you just read me–"

"Indeed. And I stand by all I said: you stifle emotion. Control it, MacEiver, don't kill it. You cannot, after all, kill what you are."

He left then, his expression thoughtful.