Chapter Three

The lightsaber whizzed past her ear as she dodged to the side. She couldn't see a thing through the blindfold, and had to rely on the Force to tell her where Obi-Wan's attacks were coming from. She'd forgotten how good of a fighter he was. He'd been improving on his offensive strikes. A new form maybe? Form V probably, which was mostly offensive, in contrast to his normal defensive Form III.

Siri countered with a Form VI maneuver, ducking and sweeping low, hoping to hit him in the abdomen. He blocked low, and he shoved her with his shoulder. She did a somersault over top of him, and swung high. This Obi-Wan blocked easily.

She pushed him through the Force, and sent him sprawling. She did a Force-aided leap, landing almost next to him, and brought her lightsaber down. He didn't have time to react to hit. It hit him square in the neck.

He winced as the low-intensity lightsaber sizzled on his skin. "Ow," he thought, and went to his corner, sweeping off his blindfold as he went. "No more blindfolds," he told Siri. She took it off with obvious relief. She always hated that test.

"Obi-Wan, I have a question."

"All right. Shoot," he replied, completely taken aback. "What do you think about us?" she said. Obi-Wan reeled as to how to respond. He tried his best.

"Siri, you told me once that we would be best friends," he replied matter-of-factly. "I intend to keep it that way." He nodded, as if to prove he wasn't lying, and smiled.

"Then why am I sensing confusion bleeding from you like a wounded bantha? You obviously don't want to be with me." She said, and leapt to attack him. He parried, and gritted his teeth. She was putting him on the defensive, and pushing him into a corner. He leapt over her. "That's not the way best friends act," she said.

Her lightsaber was suddenly blazing towards him. He hit it down to the ground with his lightsaber. "Confusion bleeding off me?" he said, repeating what she said like he always had. "Siri, I don't want to talk about this now."

"Really? Why not!" With that, she kicked him square in the chest, and he flipped backwards to hold the momentum of the kick. "Siri, this is not the time, nor the place. Can we just concentrate on our sparring?"

"No, I can multitask!" Stab. Parry, slash. Block.

"Well, so can I, but I don't want to talk about this." With that, he deactivated his lightsaber. Siri moved in for the "kill" but Obi-Wan Force-pushed her away, sending her flying. "That's enough training for today, Siri," he said, and left.

Siri climbed into the shower, and turned it on very hot. She looked down at herself, noting that she was almost exactly the same as she used to be, aside from the lack of a few scars. Her saber skills were the same as always; at least, that's what she thought. Would she have bested Obi-Wan faster in her old body?
What if she wasn't the same, like she thought?

She searched frantically through her mind, trying to remember exactly what it was like to be Siri Tachi. With her fingers running shampoo through her sweaty hair, she became more confused than ever. She didn't remember anything about Obi-Wan and her saying they'd be best friends. All she remembered was the love, and the time when they weren't even friends!

I love you, Obi-Wan…

Why couldn't she remember! She searched even more frantically, all the while, washing her lithe-yet-muscular body. She looked as feminine and attractive to men as ever (she'd noticed some Padawans looking at her as she walked through the halls), but inwardly, she wasn't as confident. What was going on?

She searched deeper, to her innermost mind, where neurons were swirling and blobbing with thought. She found herself unable to go into it, as all Jedi would have been able to do, when inwardly looking. It felt blocked, like a wall separating her from what she wanted. "What is this?"

She decided to break it. Her Force-self reared up, and blew through the wall. She instantly felt woozy. She collapsed to her knees in the shower. Her eyes went white, and she fainted to the floor of the shower, soap running from her body.

Siri awoke in the shower, the water still running. Her skin was red from the heat of the shower. "What happened?" she said aloud, knowing no one would hear her. She slowly got out of the shower, and carefully dried herself off, lest she agitate her skin more. She winced when she accidentally scraped her skin against the counter. She put on a sleep robe, and curled up in her bed.

She dreamed of nothing but lightsaber duels, and ways to improve her Form. The uncertainty she carried was there, but she pushed it down, deep down, where it wouldn't bother her in sleep. Let her deal with it in the morning.

The next few days were awkward for Obi-Wan and Siri. Though they saw each other, and trained together, conversation rarely got past "Hello," and "Good move." The tension had eased slightly, but not quite enough where they could be somewhat of friends. Obi-Wan longed for the days when they could be close again.

As they sparred, Obi-Wan began to feel a sentiment seep into his heart. Here was the woman he used to love, in clone form, wanting a connection with him again. As they sparred, he realized he missed her. He was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. A second chance at a relationship with Siri.

A new one. A closer one. Best friends.

He blocked another blow to his ankles, and jabbed toward her waist. She sidestepped, and hit him across the face, sending him sprawling. "Siri, can we end this?"

"What, afraid to lose?"

"No, I mean this…hostility. You were right. I'm sorry, I was afraid. Truthfully, Siri, I didn't know what to expect."

Siri just stared blankly at him. He stared into her eyes, and saw some tension ease. Suddenly, she lunged at him, hitting him in the neck with her low-power lightsaber. "I win," she said. "Now let's go get something to eat," she said, helping him to his feet. She threw her training saber on the rack, and started walking out of the room.

Obi-Wan ordered a muja fruit drink. Siri ordered a bluish drink, that Obi-Wan was sure was alcoholic. He shook his head and laughed.

"So best friends?" she asked earnestly. He nodded. "Best friends, nothing more."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," he said, laughing. He took a drink, and tasted something rather nasty. He spit it out, all over the bartender. The burly bartender looked up, disgusted, and turned his back on Obi-Wan. All the while, Siri was sitting there, cracking up.

"You put salt in my drink."

"It's so much better that way, isn't it?" she said, using the Force pick up the salt dispenser, and shaking it over his head. He laughed, and turned toward the bartender. "Sorry about that, here's another ten credits," he said, snickering. Very uncharacteristic. But then, he hadn't had Siri around for a while.

"So what you been doing while I was gone?" she asked, as if her coming back from the dead was absolutely nothing. "The outer rim sieges," he said plainly. "The war is going in our favor, but we are suffering heavy losses. 1.2 million clones may seem like a lot, but the Confederacy's droid army dwarves our own. Thankfully, droids don't really think."

"Yeah," she said, yawning. "Wow, this alcohol is stronger than usual." Obi-Wan laughed.

"In these past few days, what have you felt?" he asked, breaking the humorous moment. She looked serious for a moment. "Confused, and…outraged. Who would dare to clone me, and bring me back? It's so confusing!

"Somehow, I find bits of my memory missing. Not enough to be annoying, or too noticeable. But enough to cause me discomfort. And it's all about one thing. Like…someone just deleted anything about that subject."

"Siri, what subject?" he asked. She looked at him with fear-filled eyes. "I don't remember!" she said.

Obi-Wan's fingers were intertwined with Siri's in her quarters. Their eyes were closed, both searching through her mind, looking for abnormalities. Secretly, Obi-Wan liked the fact that they were holding hands, but he wouldn't let that distract him, and certainly would never voice it aloud.

His mind plunged straight into her, looking for barriers to his probe. Almost everything let him straight through. He started to pick up speed, processing information faster than any normal human could.

Suddenly, he hit a wall. His mind ached when he did so, as if he had actually hit one. "What is this?" he thought.

"I don't know," he heard a voice say in his head. Siri?

"Yup."

"Ah."

Together, they tried to breach the wall, hitting it with the Force. It wouldn't budge. Not a single bit. He mentally sighed, and started to withdraw. But as he was withdrawing, he caught a memory.

I love you, Obi-Wan.

"What is that?" he asked Siri through the Force.

"Nothing, never mind," she said out loud.

"No, I want to know."

"Obi-Wan, let's forget it," she said, her beautiful blue eyes pleading, tears filling them up. He looked into her eyes, and saw what he'd always known. She still loved him. Even death couldn't stop that.

Did he feel the same?

"Siri, I'm sorry that I couldn't help you," he said, and started for the door. "That's all right," she replied. "I have to figure this out myself."

"A command, you've been given, Jedi Siri. Ready, the Council thinks you are. Much progress, have you made," Yoda stated, his heavily lidded eyes blinking at her. She nodded. "Where am I to be going?" she asked, and she saw disapproval flash through his eyes. By asking that, he'd interpreted it as impatience. He'd get to it in his own time.

"To the Outer Rim, we are sending. Help with the sieges, you will. Ten ships, you are being given."

"Yes, Master Yoda."

"Go, pack up your things, you must." Siri nodded, and bowed. She would be gone for a while. Best to leave before Obi-Wan saw her and inquired some more. That man had such a knack for interference. Why'd she ever let him help her? She didn't need his help. She didn't need anyone help. Who was he to barge in—

She stopped herself. That we her ego talking, and there was no room for it in a Jedi. But still, her overconfidence was part of her. It had always been her weakness.

She made her way to her room, and began to pack her tunics. A gray one, a tan one, a brown one…all different shades of the same material and look. She packed pants, same material, same look. The Jedi needed a new style; she'd always thought that. Some color, not the boring earth tones, and different kinds of tunics and stuff. Not anything too flashy, but, still, difference.

She put in her gear, and two extra robes, a dark brown, and a lighter brown. She even brought supplies to build another lightsaber if need be. Siri hated depending on anyone for anything, even when the supplies were at her disposal, for her use.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, and started out the door. As she walked into the hallway, she heard a voice from behind her.

"No goodbye for your best friend?"

"Obi-Wan, I'm in a hurry," she said, exasperatedly. "So am I. I'm leaving too."

"You are?" she asked, fearing the worst. What if he'd been assigned on the same mission? That would be awful. She'd have to answer to him. His rank was far superior to hers.

"I'm on a mission to the Outer Rim. I'm taking over operations in the Gyndine Sector. A lot of Confederate activity over there."

"Ah," she said, secretly relieved that she was nowhere near he. "Well, good luck with that."

"Wait, Siri."

She turned around and saw him extend his hand. She took it, and they shook firmly. "Goodbye, Master Kenobi."

"Goodbye, Jedi Tachi."