CHAPTER XII

Developments, Concluded

It was with heavy steps that Obi-Wan made his way out of the Healing Ward. He had just been with Masters Yoda and Windu to speak to Master Adi Gallia. Getting her first-hand recount of the foiled mission on Raxus Prime was a horrendous experience. Although, Obi-Wan corrected himself bitterly, the mission had not been a complete failure. The clone soldiers had defeated the droid army station there and that Separatist world had been recovered by the Republic. But it was a hollow victory. The main objective of the mission had been to assassinate Count Dooku. Not only had he escaped, he had killed a Jedi as well.

There would be an emergency meeting between the Jedi Council and the Loyalist Committee of the Republic at noon that day. The Council had finally come to a decision on the Jedi position in the Wars. Obi-Wan had no illusions what that decision would be. He had been asked to come to the meeting and he had excused himself at once. He could still feel Master Yoda's disapproving gaze as Obi-Wan left him and Siri Tachi in the Healing Ward.

But the Knight needed time to think, to clear his head. Luminara was dead, and Anakin nearly out of control. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of self pity, but these days… A slight twinge of misery had been slowly furrowing his brow and corrupting his usual genial countenance with a frown.

So he moved. Walking the passageways of the Temple normally calmed him. The bustling of Jedi and droids gave a welcome sense of community that was hard to duplicate on missions with just himself and Anakin. Though, he had to admit to himself, despite the usual trials his Padawan put him through, the boy was often pleasant and intelligent company. But today he did not feel like being anywhere near the presence of others, least of all Anakin. Not that he had any choice in that matter. Until the Council deemed Anakin suitably corrected, the boy resided in solitude. Obi-Wan had been forbidden from seeing him.

The twinge of anger he had felt at the Council's orders flared up in him again and Obi-Wan had to focus hard to diffuse it.

Carefully trying not to broadcast his inner turmoil, the Knight walked determinedly, but with no particular destination. Obi-Wan was determined, determined to do something. Just now he was too conflicted to ask the Force for answers. He needed to act. He didn't notice the white plastisteel door of the Arboretum until he had passed it three times.

Slowing his gait to a stop, he stood in front of the entrance. Detecting his presence, the automated doors swooshed open to reveal something which had no business in the hard, lifeless durasteel skies of Coruscant. Half a kilometer of lush vegetation spread out before him. The fresh, clean smell and the unmistakable feeling of life in the Force permeated the air. The trees, the plants, the flowers, all had a pure connection to the Force. Life intertwined with life. There was no pushing and pulling, but a pure harmony that humans, even Jedi, could only strive to achieve. Some Jedi had a hard time sensing the nature of this connection, but to Obi-Wan it had always been intuitive. It was where he usually came to meditate, away from his living quarters and the Council Chambers, and away from Anakin's unusual ability to bother him at the most regretful of times.

Obi-Wan stepped fully inside, feeling the gentle pressure of air on his back as the doors slid shut and casually surveyed his surroundings. He could sense the presence of several Jedi. They were all in various states of connectivity to the Force, all receiving communion from its life-nourishing strength and power… all except one.

Obi-Wan turned northwest and immediately recognized Barriss Offee, Luminara's Padawan. She was sitting cross-legged under a Red Sythian tree looking her usual serene self. But Obi-Wan could sense no connection to the Force. That serene face hid a closed soul.

He approached slowly, aligning himself from the grass beneath his boots upward to the diffused sunlight above. When he reached her, he wordlessly sat beside her and stared straight ahead. Around them, Jedi came and went; insects sang in the trees. He kept his mind blank, trying not to dwell on anything – not the impending Clone Wars nor his wayward Padawan – but only on the suffering that Barriss must have hidden beneath that placid exterior. Then he tried sending out subtle waves of comfort through the Force even though it was a comfort that he himself did not feel.

At first there was no response, her mental block so solid not even a hint of emotion leaked through. But as the minutes passed by, Obi-Wan detected a pin-prick of hesitation in her resolve. Through it he felt an ache so familiar that it pierced his heart. He had been feeling it all too often as of late. It frightened him. Jedi do not know fear. Heart weighing heavily down, he felt it finally time to speak.

He began slowly, not even turning to look at her.

"Master Yoda would say, 'she is one with the Force now'. He would tell you how she is now pure and free of this mortal life. Her sacrifice was for all Jedi, for the greater good of the Galaxy." It was an effort to keep the bitterness out of his voice, out of his soul.

Barriss was silent.

Obi-Wan sighed deeply.

"But I know that is of little comfort."

For several moments the words hung in the air.

She spoke at last. "I know …" she breathed. Her voice was thick and empty. "But I was…unprepared for this outcome." She raised her face stoically at the older Jedi, almost succeeding in her pretense.

And looking into her face, into her soul, Obi-Wan suddenly realized what had drawn him to Barriss Offee at this moment in time. It was not the shared loss of Luminairi Unduli. It was not even his selfish desire to distract himself from his anxiety over Anakin. Being with Barriss Offee was like being beside a distorted, time-warped reflection of himself.

Padawan Kenobi, barely twenty-five seasons old. Blocking out the pain and confusion, as he bore the loss of his beloved Master Qui-Gon Jinn.

Ten years had come and gone. And the buried wound, deeply hidden as it was, was still an aching throbbing sore.

Obi-Wan sighed again and closed his eyes. What he was about to say, he had rarely spoken of but his desire to reach out and comfort this Padawan was stronger than his reserve.

"I also lost my Master, nearly ten years ago. And for all our training to the contrary, I still feel the pain of it to this day. The path of the Jedi is not easy, for any of us. If you would ever like to speak of it, I am always listening, Barriss."

He opened his eyes and looked at her face. He felt the intensity of her gaze, of her aura as she reached out to probe… as if to test his sincerity… Then at last:

"Thank you. Master Kenobi." The Padawan gave the Knight a painful smile.

The moments passed between them, pregnant with expectation as he felt her prepare to speak again and he made himself prepare to answer her with wisdom and with strength.

Nevertheless when she did speak, all the moments of preparation he had spent were for nothing.

"I know that Master Qui-Gon died defending Senator Amidala and Naboo against a Sith lord, you were there were you not?"

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. The mention of Qui-Gon, Amidala and the Sith all in one breath brought back images his mind often chose not to connect; all of them were causes of concern.

And pain.

He was still trying to work his way through that unhappy haze when she spoke quickly, words that Obi-Wan should have anticipated:

"If only I could have been with my Master…"

Her words stung him and he forced a reply out of the tightening in his throat. "My presence did not help Qui-Gon," he said firmly. "It only served to delay the inevitable."

Obi-Wan knew almost at once from the look on the Padawan's face that his answer had disappointed her. She turned her attention back to the plants before her and this time, it seemed that her disconnection to the Force was more acute than before.

This was the problem with Anakin. Like Barriss now, Obi-Wan knew how his Padawan felt; but somehow, he always failed to communicate his empathy correctly. Even worse, Anakin never seemed to see how hard Obi-Wan tried.

Obi-Wan was determined to succeed with this Padawan.

"We, the Jedi, were the naïve ones, not seeing that the Sith had returned," he declared. Her face lifted up at once and he continued, gratified. "I was young, and lucky in my defeat of Darth Maul but we all lost that day, as we have this day. Luminara was a remarkable Jedi and a good friend."

"Yes, she was, and I will honor her always. 'But we must not dwell on that we cannot change.'" Barriss now repeated Yoda's words hollowly. She stared down where her strong fingers were grasping onto the fine blades of grass. "But I should have known… she should not have gone alone… perhaps I could have healed her." And her quiet whisper melted into the ground. "At least you were there."

"I was but that doesn't make it any easier." It had not. It still did not. Instead, the fact that he had been there and had still been powerless to save Qui-Gon only made it worse.

"Sometimes I wonder how any man can trust in the Force at times like this," Obi-Wan said quietly. Qui-Gon had been a good man, a great man. He had loved the Force and served it well. How could the Force have allowed one of Its own die at the hands of his enemy?

And more so to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had been his protector, his teacher, his father. He had been the centre of Obi-Wan's world for so long. When his Master died, for a long time, Obi-Wan's world had been thrown into darkness.

His father.

With the sudden shock of a thunderclap, Obi-Wan he realized what his Padawan must also be going through.

Anakin's mother.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes in shame. Mother. Intellectually he understood what this meant, even sympathetically. But could he ever truly understand? Could any Jedi?

"Did Anakin ever tell you that he also lost his mother?"

The words flew out of Obi-Wan's mouth almost as if he had no control over them.

"His mother died!" The shock in her voice was palpable. Her stoic tranquility had shattered. He could feel the questions rolling off her.

How?

When?

How had Anakin known?

"Anakin has lost so many he loved." He really had no control over his words. Love? It was a foreign word, one that he did not quite feel was appropriate to say; yet, it was perfectly right all the same.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and turned to the Padawan. "He lost Qui-Gon, too. He was very attached to Qui-Gon. Remember, he was just a child…"

Barriss' expression of shocked sympathy warred with an inquisitive interest she could not mask. "He never speaks of it. Of how you found him."

That was as it should be. Although there had been no outright order to secrecy, the Council had deeply impressed on Obi-Wan and Anakin that they should not discuss in too much detail the circumstances surrounding Anakin's discovery. It would be easier for Anakin to adjust to his new life if it had no connection to the old at all.

At the point in time, Obi-Wan had followed the Council's counsel to the letter. Now, as it seemed to happen so often of late, he doubted the wisdom of that decision. Looking at Barriss Offee's face, filled with compassion for her friend, despite her own loss, Obi-Wan wondered if it would not have helped his Padawan to have been more open with his friends.

Obi-Wan hesitated, contemplating what to tell Barriss Offee now. She was a model Jedi and he knew she would not betray his confidence. Still, it was not really his place, not his story to tell. The Council would disapprove…

And re-living Anakin's pain was not something he particularly felt like doing.

She must have sensed his reluctance because she drew near and touched his arm with her hand. "Please tell me."

Obi-Wan looked at her, feeling slightly more than curious about the effect his apprentice seemed to naturally have on females. He made a mental note to tell Luminairi about this stray observation; and also to add that her Padawan was unnaturally curious – a flaw that could get her into trouble – and that thought was followed by a flash of pain.

Luminairi was gone. Barriss had no Master to report to.

It was then he made up his mind. Perhaps knowing might help her and even Anakin. They were close friends after all.

He began slowly.

""Shmi… Shmi was her name." There was no thought to it. He couldn't believe he still remembered such a small detail. If was as if she was more real because she had a name. "He grew up with her on Tatooine until the age of nine. Even then, with no training, he was extremely talented in the Force. Qui-Gon and I discovered him there when Queen Amidala's ship required repairs after our flight from Naboo. Qui-Gon became… very interested in training him."

The memories rushed in and carried his words for him. He remembered the relatively straightforward mission gone strangely awry, then the solitude of the ship, his Master's cryptic message and the amazing results of the blood sample Qui-Gon had sent him. He remembered seeing Anakin for the first time… He remembered the Sith Lord they encountered, their narrow escape to Coruscant and Qui- Gon's words to the Council.

"Qui- Gon was determined to train him." Obi-Wan said out loud and even now, he could still taste the bitterness of his jealousy in his mouth.

"But you were already his apprentice."

"So the Council said. And Anakin was too old." He told her about how they had easily seen that Anakin had had a hard time leaving his mother, and formed attachments to Queen Amidala and Qui-Gon.

"Qui-Gon said I was ready for my trials and Anakin was … special. He had to be trained. The Council refused. Right in front of Anakin." And for the first time in ten years, Obi-Wan wondered what the nine-year-old boy had felt then. At the point in time he had been too consumed with his own outrage, and later after his Master's death, with his sense of obligation. For the first time in his guardianship of Anakin, Obi-Wan put himself in the boy's shoes.

Force, they were painful.

Barriss' aura was a quiet, responsive, open one beside him. She was like a sink, soaking up his confiding without judgment and Obi-Wan found himself speaking far more than he intended. It was unexpectedly cathartic; and not only was Anakin's unusual past helping Luminara's Padawan put things in perspective, it was also helping him. Only on a few occasions had Obi-Wan ever spoken so candidly about his and his Padawan's strange beginnings. Somehow Anakin's recent actions seemed to make more sense, if still cause for concern.

So Obi-Wan spoke about Naboo, and about the demon Sith that had killed his Master.

"Qui-Gon died in my arms, but first he made me promise to train Anakin."

This was something he had dwelled upon many times. Anakin had been this important to his Master. It had been Qui-Gon's dying wish…

Barriss' sympathetic voice shattered his musings.

"You felt as if he abandoned you for Anakin."

Obi-Wan flinched. Once again, her perspicacity caught him off guard and he needed to draw strength from the Force before he could continue. "Yes, I suppose a part of me has always felt that way." And a part of me always will. "But he died, I couldn't save him. And Anakin was his last gift to me."

Her sorrow welled up like a flooded river and he was grateful when she did not ask him further on the matter.

"And Anakin's mother?"

Obi-Wan's own sorrow turned to shame. "I don't really know what happened," he confessed. "Anakin was having nightmares and I didn't think much of them at the time."

Why? Why hadn't he?

"When he could no longer bear it, he returned to Tatooine. She died shortly after he found her. I don't know the details. Anakin could barely bear to speak of it. I don't... I didn't know what to do. If there was anything I could have done…"

But blaming himself for it now was too late.

Gently, reverently, but firmly, the Knight closed the old wound again.

"The past is the past, we must be mindful of the future. I couldn't save Master Qui-Gon no more than you could have saved Luminara, nor Anakin his mother."

"We have all suffered our losses, haven't we?" Barriss said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice.

There is no death, there is only the Force.

Master Yoda's voice echoed the old precept of the code in Obi-Wan's head and this time, Obi-Wan did not resent it.

"I think it best we try and concentrate on those whom we can save…" Obi-Wan said softly, so softly that perhaps he was speaking to himself.

In a way he was.

"… because perhaps by healing them, we may finally begin to heal ourselves," he finished.

Her eyes filled with understanding and she nodded gravely.

Obi-Wan got to his feet and bowed to her.

"The Force be with you, Padawan Offee. May it give you strength to bear your losses, courage to face the battles ahead and wisdom to guide you in the right direction."

She nodded. She did not smile. But Obi-Wan could feel the gratitude that rolled off her in waves.

"And also with you, Master Kenobi."

He could still sense her as he made his way out of the Arboretum. No longer was she isolated from the Force. It flowed freely round and through her, wrapping her in the nourishing embrace of a mother to her child.

An air of solemnity hung like a heavy curtain over the Supreme Chancellor's office as a line of Jedi filed into the room. Council members Masters Yoda, Windu and Mundi took seats in front of the massive desk alongside loyalist leaders Bail Organa and Orn Free Taa.

From his focal position behind the desk the Chancellor seemed to sense the somber mood of the assembly. For a change he didn't offer his usual affable greeting, merely nodding to each newcomer as they found a place around the room.

Masters Secura, Fisto and Kolar elected to stand respectfully behind the seated Council members. Adi Gallia and Siri Tachi followed, their expressions grim and resolute. They hung back, as if uncertain just where to position themselves. Siri's Padawan, Ferus Olin, stood resolute behind his Master.

Other loyalists observed from their positions around the room. Senators Darsana and Dio wore grave expressions that matched the ones worn by Organa and Free Taa. Senator Farr and Senator Aak were more difficult to read as they stared intently at each of the Jedi.

Long moments of silence filled the room until Mace Windu spoke.

"Lord High Chancellor, as you are no doubt aware by now, our mission to Raxus Prime has failed. Despite our best efforts and at no small price, Count Dooku remains free to lead the separatists. Their armies grow stronger each day."

Palpatine nodded, steepling his fingers underneath his chin thoughtfully as Master Windu continued.

"The Jedi Order has served the Republic for millennia under the wise counsel of the Supreme Chancellors. Our role as Republic servants - arbitrators, negotiators and peace-keepers - has defined our order to the galaxy. It will be no different now."

Several senators exchanged glances with each other. Bail Organa stared intently past the Chancellor, as if absorbed in the traffic lanes outside.

"We, the Jedi Order, will acquiesce to the Senate. If the Chancellor still wishes, we will take up arms in the Clone Wars. We will lead the Army of the Republic."

The Chancellor exhaled slowly, a careful smile lifting the corners of his mouth. The other loyalists wore similar expressions. The Rodian Onaconda Farr, didn't even bother to guard his open pleasure about the decision. With the exception of the stone-faced Organa, most appeared deeply relieved. It was obvious they felt this decision could turn the tide of the war.

The Jedi around the room appeared resolute. Whatever their differences were with this decision, clearly they had put them aside to present a united front. They would bow to the will of their own Council, who would now follow the lead of the Republic.

Palpatine spoke, breaking the silence. "There is no way to tell you how much this will mean to the Republic. The Senate and the Temple can once again stand united. Our armies will gain new strength."

Master Yoda exchanged a look with Senator Organa before speaking.

"Grave misgivings about this course of action we still have, but know, we do, that it is our best hope."

Ki-Adi-Mundi nodded in agreement, his eyes lighting on Siri and Adi. "Too much time and too many lives have been lost already."

"It is final, then." The Chancellor murmured. "Your Graces, I hereby place the Commanders of the Army at your disposal." He rose from his seat. "I will go and make the necessary announcements."

The rest of the assembly rose with him and for a moment, everybody looked at everyone else. Then Palpatine stepped forward and in his wake, the two pillars of the Republic – the Senate and the Jedi Order followed.