CHAPTER XI

…and Punishment

"…As for you, Master Kenobi, you will not speak to your Padawan until he has carried out our request. When Master Tachi returns, you will both appear before the Council with your Padawans. In the meantime, Padawan Skywalker resides in solitude."

The instinctive disinclination of the young Knight was tangible in his aura. He tempered it quickly but it was noted all the same.

The ripples of antipathy that still radiated between the two Padawans was another matter entirely.

"Padawans, it is our sincere wish that by the time you have completed your duties, you would both have learnt a means of correcting your failings."

There was an uncompromising silence.

"You may all go now."

Protests were not in order. The Council had given its decision and its decision was final. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi bowed deeply and the two Padawans, his own Anakin Skywalker on his right, and Ferus Olin on his left, bowed a half-second after him.

The three men left the Council meeting chamber and the Councilors in a mood of deep depression.

"Disappointed I am in those two," Yoda declared. "Disappointed bitterly."

"As I am, Master Yoda," said Kit Fisto. "Now is not the time for our young ones to display such rank disunity."

"I had hopes for those Padawans," Agen Kolar said suddenly. All heads turned to him. The Zabrak Jedi had been a man of fewer words than action since Geonosis and contributions from him to the Council in non-military matters were rare. "I thought they had attained the maturity to start handling missions on their own. I guess I was wrong."

Master Yoda's eyes bored through Kolar and his ears twitched but he said nothing.

"Skywalker and Olin are the leaders of their peer group," Stass Allie said gently. "The rivalry between them is not so unexpected. Give them time; they will grow out of it."

"Do peer groups have leaders?" questioned Ki-Adi-Mundi pedantically.

No-one answered him. What was and what should be were never the same thing in the galaxy, and the Jedi Order was no exception.

"We are facing conflict on so many sides - Dooku and his Sith accomplice, the hostility from the Senate. We simply cannot afford to have these internal conflicts, no matter how juvenile they may seem now," Mace Windu said sternly.

The very air in the Council chambers seemed to echo with all the disturbing implications of his words.

"Masters," said Agen Kolar, breaking the pensive silence, "what were the Chancellor's wishes?"

Briefly, Mace Windu gave his fellow Councilors an outline of the earlier meeting with Chancellor Palpatine. Very little had been resolved after Obi-Wan's first abrupt departure from the Senate Dome. The Council maintained its right to "pick and choose" - in the words of Senator Aak whom Palpatine quoted - their battles in the Clone Wars. They refused to commit to a full participation until their top-secret hidden mission - the assassination of Dooku - had borne fruition.

The deadlock between the Senate and the Temple remained.

Only now the Chancellor seemed to be on the Senators' side.

"The consequences of this war being won without Jedi participation may be worth our consideration," Aayla Secura said quietly.

There was a sharp little whistle in the chamber as if a cool breeze had just rushed through it.

But there was no wind.

"The Dark Side clouds even the Temple," Windu said slowly. "Every decision we take must be made with the most extreme caution."

"It is affecting the powers of some of the Knights," the Healer Stass Allie added softly. "I have seen it in the Healing Centre. More and more older Knights are having increasing difficulties hearing the Force… or working through it."

Agen Kolar barked harshly. "I have seen it on the battle field." He flexed a paw. "I have even seen it in myself." And when he looked balefully at his comrades, the accusation in his eyes was clear:

As we all have seen it in ourselves at one time or the other.

This time the silence that followed was a guilty, apprehensive one.

Almost a fearful one.

And wasn't fear of the Dark Side?

Aayla Secura broke the silence with the mental gasp of someone who had just broken through the surface to seize lungful of breath after nearly being drowned. The aura of the chamber was filled with several identical gasps.

"No word from Raxus Prime yet?" She asked redundantly. They all knew there had not been.

All heads in the Council room shook but one.

All eyes turned to Master Yoda.

The old Jedi was bent so low over his couch that his ears almost touched his folded knees. His eyes were shut tight.

The Force was with him. In a way that it could only be with one whom had known It for eight hundred years.

There was a hush of expectancy and of awe as every Jedi in the chamber waited in bated breaths for the ancient Master to come out of his trance.

The aura of the Ficca plants for replanting was a gentle, patient flutter in the Force as they waited meekly in the nursery foil by Anakin's knees. Their Viari flowers were the colors of a beautiful Corellian sky blue. Large teardrop shaped petals wove in and out of each other. But they were delicate, prone to falling off in showers when not handled properly. Anakin dug his hands deep into the soil, breaking it, softening it with his fingers. It was so different from the dead sand of Tatooine. Damp, soft, and full of life. It did not make him hate gardening any less. It was obvious why Master Yoda has chosen it as Anakin's punishment… or rather duty. Jedi did not hand out punishments.

Indeed.

When Anakin and the other Padawans were still very young they had been taught to use the Force for horticultural production and care. They were given pots of dying Madalenga grass to care for. Their task was to create the opportunity for it to thrive again and in one standard week. Anakin had spent many hours staring at the Madalenga, poking its yellow tendrils and trying to figure out how to make the thing just work again. He had even tried to use the Force as if fixing the small and intricate parts of a droid. The reward for his pains was Master Unduli scolding him for thinking too much, instead of just listening:

"The Madalenga is a living entity; it will tell you what it requires. You must listen to it Padawan."

Anakin snorted now at the irony of his current situation. It was his not thinking which had got him into trouble now, wasn't it? Not thinking. For ten years he had been taught not to think, but to feel. He had done so with Padmé and where had it got him? Like these wretched plants needed water to survive, he needed Padmé. With every fiber of his being. There was no doubt in his mind and in his perception of the Force. Why didn't anyone understand? No one could. No one wanted to. Not even Padmé who was as maddeningly close-minded as the rest of the Jedi.

Viciously, he grabbed one of the plants and immediately stung his hand on its red thorny leaves. He hissed sharply, drawing back his hand at once and his eyes narrowed. In the back of his mind Anakin remembered that in its native Corellia, Viari meant "tears from the heavens." How could something so innocuous-looking be so dangerous?

"Every creature needs a mechanism for survival."

The stinging in his hand worsened as he shoved the plant ruthlessly into its allotted soil, a dozen petals dropping in protest. He bit his lip hard, remembering how the same hand had been injured only days before. Feeling the Force around him and through him Anakin tried to will away the sting. But the Force was not responding to his frustration. It had been happening since he left Naboo. His ability to use the Force now was limited at best, and it couldn't have been because of the Dark Side cloud that hovered above all the Jedi. Normally the cloud did not seem to affect Anakin. He couldn't understand what was happening now - now even the most elementary actions of telekinesis with the Force needed intense concentration of emotion on his part. So he was vulnerable after all to the virus that was affecting the Order. It had pleased him to think that he might just be too powerful. Despite himself, he smirked. Try telling that to Yoda, or Ferus.

Ferus.

The name brought to mind some colorful Huttese phrases. They were followed by unpleasant memories of his censure in front of the Council.

"Acting like an initiate you are. Learn to control your anger you must!"

It was the closest to annoyed Anakin had ever seen Yoda.

He couldn't have cared less.

So his punishment was to work in the gardens, as it would take patience and a calm mind. Working in harmony with living things was difficult, a lesson Yoda insisted Anakin needed to re-learn. Another lesson was:

"Need to learn who your allies are you do."

Those words had stabbed him directly in the heart and he had had to fight to keep breathing normally. The Jedi Council room was not a place to lose your control.

Movement at the corner of his eye made him raised his head now. A pair of Padawans were entering the Arboreteum, heads bowed in quiet conversation. Angrily, Anakin returned to his work. Who had he expected to see? Obi-Wan? His Master had all but betrayed him. On hindsight, it was good that he had not run into his Master on Naboo. He could not fathom what he would have done.

Images of sand and death and his mother's tortured face sprang to mind.

No.

Anakin's breath caught in his throat.

No.

Viari petals shedded violently as he forced the roots into the ground as fiercely as he forced himself to try and forget about his mother's death, about what he had done. He needed to forget; and it wasn't just because he was shamed by it.

He needed to forget because in darkest recesses of his tangled heart he had enjoyed it. And he still enjoyed the memory of his power, his strength, his murders.

The worst part was that Padmé had seen him like that, had felt his wrath, had seen his weakness. She had been horrified and repulsed: her emotions had slammed into him through the Force. He had barely felt them for the pain that already echoed through him… their pain.

But Padmé had forgiven him. Because of love. He had felt that as well and he had accepted it as a man dying of thirst would accept a glass of water. Her love and forgiveness were the only things that had made him go on.

Not anymore. Now there was nothing. The Jedi? The Jedi had never cared. His own Master had broken their sacred bond, in more ways than one. Anakin had not forgotten that he had thought of Obi-Wan when he fought with Ferus. The Council did not know how wise they were to keep him and Obi-Wan apart.

His mother was dead.

So now he had nothing but these plants. These infernal plants that did nothing but remind Anakin of the lush green world of Naboo, the world he wanted desperately to despise and could not, and of how he had so little control over living things.

See what your Chosen One of the Force has become? See what love and compassion and loyalty have done to his soul?

Desperately, Anakin drove both his hands deep into the soil, trying to connect to something- to life or the Force- but he felt nothing, as if his entire body was made of the same miserable biosteel as his hand. He stared up into the diffused lighting grid above, wishing it was the familiar hot sun of Tatooine that he knew as a child.

"Anakin?"

He did not raise his head. Detachedly, he recognized the voice calling him as Barriss Offee's. He had not sensed her approach in the Force.

That was no longer surprising.

Barriss had been standing in the corner of the Arboreteum and watching her fellow Padawan for long moments. She could not decide which was more intimidating: the blank expression of an automaton on Anakin's face as he worked, or his sporadic and violent efforts at gardening. As long as Barriss had known him he preferred to be alone when troubled. But somehow she knew this was infinitely more serious than struggling with his training. In the end, it was the very things that had repulsed her that made her determine to approach him.

"How is the planting going?" She asked slowly as she drew nearer to him. She could easily see how his progress was coming. Several Ficca plants lay haphazardly on the floor. The Viari flower was crooked, obviously put into the earth carelessly. There was soil all over Anakin's tunic.

His shoulders twitched slightly but he did not respond, not even to raise his head.

"Here, let me help you. I know how good you are with plants." Barriss said with no small irony and knelt down beside him.

He finally turned his head toward her. Her Healer's eye noted with some approval the work the other Healers must have done on his face. She had glimpsed him and Ferus as they came out of the Council chambers – both had stared stonily past her – and they had been sharing a remarkable collage of bright, identical bruises. Now the slight cut on his lower lip was the only indication of his brawl.

He stared back at her with a blank expression of someone who did not recognize who he was looking at. Then he turned back to his work.

Now was probably not the time to mention that he had missed his bacta treatment.

Barriss hastily cleaned up the dirt and spent several minutes re-potting the Ficcas. She had to keep herself from stealing furtive glances at Anakin's troubled face. Rather, she tried to unobtrusively prod his mind for answers, but his shields were firmly in place. Rumor had it that he snuck away from Coruscant on a diplomatic shuttle. That combined with Anakin's behavior toward Ferus, no matter how much he probably deserved it, was bringing Anakin perilously close to the Dark Side. With the Healer's bond that was still between them, she could feel its insidious fingers grasping for his mind. According to Ferus' testimony to the Council, Anakin had "lost it" and "obviously doesn't know his Master as well as he should." Barriss knew Ferus well enough to guess that he must have played up the part of the victim. All the same, she could tell he was genuinely shaken. Long had Ferus and Anakin held onto this rivalry, but until now it had always had some semblance of civility. Between her only angry confrontation with Ferus and his encounter with Anakin, the rivalry was spiraling into an ugly state of affairs. She had no idea of the reason for it. And she had no idea why Master Obi-Wan would finish Anakin's mission, without consulting him first, thus leaving his Padawan in such a state. She supposed that the Council must have their reasons for separating the two men – Obi-Wan and Anakin – even longer; but Barriss could not see it.

Barriss sighed softly beneath her breath. It was a sad thing to admit to but she was glad of Anakin's troubles and the fact that she could be of some help to him. Ferus had been wrong when he accused her of wanting to confide in Anakin. Given a choice, Barriss would rather dwell on Anakin's troubles than on her own. Anakin would have wanted her confidence: in his less egocentric moments, Anakin had one of the most generous and attentive hearts she had ever known. But there was an unspoken rule in their relationship that hers was the shoulder he cried on, not the other way around. Barriss for one liked it that way.

All the Ficca had been replanted. Automatically tapping the soil into place, Barriss glanced around the Arboretum. It was largely empty except for two Padawans talking in hushed tones in a corner about 15 meters away and Master Kolar meditating amongst the thick vines of the Tiim'ka tree, eyes closed. She moved closer to Anakin, who was staring blankly at the finished work, and lightly touched his shoulder. He flinched as if she'd punched him.

"Is there anything you would like to talk about, Anakin?" she asked, her voice as soothing as possible.

"What? No… no thank you, I'm fine." He turned his gaze to his dirt covered hands.

"Anakin, you know you cannot lie to me. What is it that's troubling you? Ferus? Obi-Wan?"

Several tense moments pass. When at last he spoke his voice was harsh whisper. "Why would she just leave? How could she…?" Deep blue eyes finally looked into hers, pleading for an answer.

She. Senator Amidala.

At the edge of discovery, Barriss tried to curtail her eagerness and again, she spoke in soft tones, trying to hold his gaze. "I don't know Anakin. Senator Amidala must have been in an urgent rush to leave. Maybe the Force told Master Kenobi that she was in danger and needed to leave immediately."

"Danger." He spoke the word with bitter irony.

"Anakin, is there something about your relationship with the Senator…?"

"The Senator's name is Padmé," he interrupted, tearing his eyes away from hers. Another tense moment passed and then, "and she doesn't want to see me anymore."

"See you?" Barriss' head swam with a hundred speculations - all of them unfitting for a Jedi. Anakin wouldn't…

"She left… left to do her duty," he continued cryptically. "And Obi-Wan left to do his."

"Anakin I don't-"

He stood up suddenly, looking wildly around at the room's inhabitants. Out of the corner of her eye Barriss saw Master Kolar subtly glance in their direction.

"Over there…" he pointed to the West corner, "I have to go take care of the Alaxsed. If I don't the spores will turn poisonous and kill everything around it. Master Yoda would be very upset."

And in a sudden passion for duty, Anakin made his way to the ferns by the West entrance, as far away from the plants and her as possible. Barriss remained kneeling on the grassy floor next to the planting boxes, overcome with anxiety. The Force showed her a frightening glimpse of the poison slowly creeping around Anakin himself, threatening him and everything the Jedi held sacred.

Yoda opened his eyes. He reeled back and a tear fell from his jaw and dropped on the marble floor with a sound like the single tinkle of a very tiny glass bell.

Only the violet sunset filtering through the huge plasti-glass windows told him that he had wandered for hours.

Pairs of eyes of many shapes and types shone brightly and eagerly at him.

"There is word from Raxus Prime." His voice was gravelly, the sound coming from a thirst-parched throat, nothing more. Eight hundred years of dispassion would not be unlearned in a few hours of bleak communion with the Force.

On cue, the transmitter embedded in Mace Windu's chair burst to life.

"Jedi Fighter 179 just entered Coruscant space zone," said a mechanical voice.

"Facillitate immediate landing," Mace said briskly. He turned off the transmitter and turned to Yoda.

Yoda had got to his feet and was walking slowly, very slowly to the window. His moss-colored eyes blinked at the other Jedi through his reflection. When he spoke, his words sent a frission of

(Fear was of the Dark Side)

trepidation through every Jedi in the Temple.

"The Dark Side clouds everything."

"The Dark Side clouds everything."

The frisson of trepidation shattered Barriss' fragile calm and she shivered. It passed like a small quake, leaving its wake of disruption behind it. With another sigh, she started picking up the petals of the flower that had shredded under Anakin's care.

With Anakin gone, Barriss had been left in the company of her thoughts and all her

(Jedi do not fear)

apprehension for her Master had returned to the fore. For the zenith time that day, Barriss reached through the Master-Padawan bond she shared with Luminara. Once again, nothing. If Master Luminara were here she would scold Barriss severely for the fruitless brooding that Barriss had indulged in since the Councillors had broken the news to her this morning. Yet Barriss could not help it.

What had Ferus said?

"We are both overreacting."

He was insufferable but Force, she certainly hoped he was right. She was no longer upset about her earlier argument with him. The feeling of irritation had dispelled almost as soon as she left the Archives Centre. What was left was intense disappointment.

It was not so much that Ferus had not been able to understand - he had. But that he had not wanted to admit that he understood was what hurted her. Now surrounded by the soothing plants of the Arboreteum, her mind trying to fight away her worries about her Master, she could hardly credit the anger which she had felt earlier. She would have to seek him out and apologise to him. Not right away of course, now that he was probably still reeling from his own tiff with Anakin. But soon enough.

And as if conjured by her thoughts, the distinctive Force presence of Ferus Olin filtered through the wild aura of the living plants in the Arboreteum and approached her.

Suddenly, Barriss was gripped by a sensation of tangible

(Jedi do not fear)

worry so strong that she felt nauseous. She bent over the plants, using calming techniques to regulate her breathing. She did not look up when his shadow fell on her.

"Padawan Offee."

She had to look up. His face was pale and stern where it hovered above her. Barriss rose to her feet and looked him in the eye. He looked away at once. Absentmindedly she noted the tiny red line at his temple – a souvenir from his encounter with Anakin, no doubt.

"You've been summoned by the Council." His voice was odd. She had expected it to be cool after their last meeting and it was, but in a forced, pretended way.

He turned to go and Barriss reached out and held him. He paused without turning.

"Ferus? What is it?"

"The Council will inform…"

She gripped his arm so hard that she could feel her nails sink through his robes, almost into his flesh. He hissed in sharply and there was a short silence. She knew it was short because it lasted as long as the heave of his shoulders; otherwise, it might have been an eternity.

He still did not turn around.

"The contingent to Raxus Prime just returned," he said finally in that forced cool voice. "You are to be debriefed."

To be debriefed? Weren't she and Ferus both to do the debriefing? Was it no longer customary for the Padawan to stand beside her Master in front of the Council, solo assignment or no solo assignment?

And why couldn't Ferus look her in the eye?

"What is going on? Ferus!" Was that her voice she heard? Weak and imploring. It had to be, she supposed. There was no one else in the Arboreteum except Master Kolar.

"Please, Barriss," and his voice was now as pleading as hers, "just come." Then he was out of her grip and walking quickly away from her.

Master Luminara!

She should have been right there in the Temple. She should have heard Barriss. The other end of the ten-year-old bond remained silent. It would remain silent forever.

As Barriss followed Ferus, every hastening step echoing with the rapid beating of her heart, deep inside her, she already knew.