Obi-Wan tried to get closer, tried to find a way through the hot flames. But they rebuked him again and again. Mocking him like long, orange, harsh tongues poking at him. Dooku was in the midst of the fire again. His demeanour told Obi-Wan that he was not affected by the heat and the pain of the burning flames at all. His eyes, however, told otherwise. He was moving his lips again and this time, Obi-Wan could understand the words:

"Come to me, Padawan."

Obi-Wan ran towards the fire again but it was futile. It was like running against a solid wall.

"I can't Master!" he said desperately. "I can't."

Then something snapped shut in Dooku's eyes and suddenly he growled like an enraged krayt dragon. One more time Obi-Wan tried to fight against the solid wall of flames but he was thrown backwards. It felt as if someone had Force-pushed him out of the way. Tumbling to the ground, his eyes caught sight of the ring he was wearing, the ring which his Master had given him for his thirteenth birthday. It was shining a bright blue. Obi-Wan struggled to get on his feet again -

beep - beep - beep

Obi-Wan awoke with a start. His gaze shot to the ring at his finger. The gemstone was black. Only occasionally something dark blue flickered and died as quickly as a candle in a hurricane.

beep - beep - beep

It took Obi-Wan some time to find back to reality. He was back on Senali, lying lonely in a tent, sweating, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

beep - beep - beep

He peeled the two blankets off his sweating body and scrambled to the comm-station. It was Master Yoda!

"Master!" Obi-Wan said, still out of breath from his horrifying dream.

"Wanted to speak to me, you did?" Yoda asked. He looked tired and battle-worn, his tunic was muddy and a long scratch covered his left ear.

And yet he took the time to speak to me, Obi-Wan thought gratefully. "Yes, Master. I had a vision. Well, visions. I had the same vision for the third time this night. It was only slightly altered."

"M-hmm. Premonitions you have?"

"I think so... I'm not sure. But... it is odd that I have the same vision three times, isn't it?"

"Dream the same dream again, many people do."

"Yes, of course..." Obi-Wan bit his lower lip. The vision - or the dream - was still so vivid in his mind. He almost could feel the heat of the fire on his body. "It was more than a normal dream, Master, I'm sure of it. Please believe me."

"Believe you I do. About the nature of your premonitions you tell me?"

"Yes. Well... Master Dooku was in it." Expecting a rebuke because he did not accept death as a natural part of life, Obi-Wan gave the little holo-Master an awkward glance.

Yoda's ears drooped sadly. "More about it you tell me."

"There were flames all around him but they did not burn him. He told me to come to him but I could not get through the flames. They did burn me. And then I saw that my ring was shining blue and that means there are dark Force energies nearby."

"Hmm." Yoda thoughtfully wiggled his head. "Very curious your strange dream is. Understand it, you need to."

"So you think Master Dooku could be still alive?" Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

Yoda gave him the pitying look all the other Masters had given him before. "Found his corpse today, Master Windu did."

Obi-Wan swallowed very hard. He suddenly had a thick knot in his chest. "But I... But I had visions where he was still alive!" he said desperately. "He can't be dead! I-I mean, w-why would I have such visions?"

"Not only in the future, visions lie. Explain the past, your vision can maybe? Or help us understand secrets of the dark side, it could? Meditate on this, I will. Lead an investigation to find out how Master Dooku died, the Jedi Order will."

ooooooo

Even before Master Yoda contacted him and informed him of Padawan Kenobi's "vision", Mace Windu realised something was not right. He was sitting in a little room in the Temple, grieving over his friend's dead body. Gloomily, he stared at the many blaster wounds in Dooku's chest. It just seemed wrong. Master Dooku, the great, elegant and dignified Jedi Master, killed by blasters. That was not the way it was meant to be. Sadly, Mace had to admit that nowadays many things were not any longer what they were meant to be. The galaxy did not follow an order anymore. How could dumb battle droids have defeated one of the greatest Jedi Masters? It must have been a trap. A hideous, devilish trap. Angrily, Mace rubbed his forehead. Dooku should have died in a spectacular swordfight. A fight which was about honour, fairness and decency. He should not have died like this. Never like this!

With trembling fingers, Mace took Dooku's lightsaber, which had lain next to Dooku's corpse in the dirt, and placed it in Dooku's numb hand. How many more Jedi will die such a humiliating death? Mace wondered sadly. To how many more will I have to say goodbye? The sight of Dooku's lightsaber lying loosely in Dooku's rigid yet weak hand, caught Mace's attention once again. Something stirred in his memory. Several months ago, a Jedi team had already found Dooku's lightsaber on Antar 4. They had brought it back to the Temple. When the Council had declared Dooku dead, they had decided to give the lightsaber to Dooku's Padawan but Kenobi had refused to accept it. So they had placed the lightsaber at the base of a bust, which had been built in honour of Dooku after his death.

Picking the lightsaber from Dooku's lifeless hand, Mace hurried out of the room and down to the archives, where he stopped at the statue of Master Dooku. He knelt down in order to examine the lightsaber - it had been placed under clari-crystalline. Mace looked from the lightsaber in his hand to the lightsaber under the statue. At first sight, they looked identical. Had Dooku maybe had two lightsabers with him? No, certainly not. It would be practical, of course, to always carry several lightsabers but a Jedi Master as old-fashioned as Dooku would never go against his ideals for the sake of practicability. Mace undecidedly tapped his fingers at the thick clari-crystalline. He needed to examine the lightsabers more closely. Nervously, he took a look around. Nowadays, the archives were empty. There was no time for studying. The Jedi were scattered around the galaxy, fighting and dying in the Clone Wars. If somebody had the time to study, they would go into the battle room.

In the Force, Mace searched for Jocasta Nu's (the librarian's) presence. Fortunately, she was currently in the restricted section, probably doing some research on the Sith. With an odd feeling of excitement, Mace ignited his lightsaber. I had never thought the day would come when I willingly damage a statue of a great Jedi Master, he mused, shaking his head at his own behaviour. He put his lightsaber at the clari-crystalline and carefully melted it. Then he could remove the lightsaber from the base of the bust. Dreading the day when Jocasta Nu found out about this, Mace left the archives in a hurry.

He went into his private meditation room, set the glow orbs to the highest setting (normally, the lights were always dimmed here) and placed the two identical looking lightsabers in front of him on a little table. He just looked at them for a very long time. The one which had been in the archives was polished. The other one was dirty, there were dust and even traces of dried blood on it. Both lightsaber hilts had little scratches on them but the scratches formed different patterns. Mace took one lightsaber in his left hand and the other one in his right and weighed them. They had the same weight. Respectively, he grabbed each lightsaber in his sword hand. Oddly, it felt more natural to hold the lightsaber they had found months earlier. It was almost as if it had been held more often than the other. He closed his eyes and traced his thumb very slowly over the hilt. He felt it more in the Force than under his thumb. Yes, there it was: little bulges where the fingers would curl around the hilt. The other lightsaber lacked such bulges. As if it had been never used... But then... why the scratches? Then where did the dust and the blood come from? Maybe it just had not been used as often as the other. Or maybe just in this one battle. Mace gaped in shock. Had someone stolen Dooku's lightsaber and replaced it with a faulty one? Was that why he had not been able to defend himself against battle droids? Nonsense. Dooku never lost his lightsaber. Dooku would sense it immediately if he had the wrong lightsaber, he could not be fooled that easily.

Mace took the lightsaber which they had found earlier and ignited it. A blue, powerful blade sprang to life with the familiar hissing sound. It was humming with energy but the sound was nothing compared to the humming in the Force - a humming of power. This was Dooku's lightsaber, there was no doubt about it. If a Jedi built his lightsaber, he put a part of himself in it. It represented the image in his mind because before a Jedi actually built his lightsaber, he created it in his mind. It took much time and dedication to build a lightsaber. Mace knew Dooku had spent several years as a Padawan until he had been satisfied with his lightsaber. The lightsaber in Mace's hand was definitely Dooku's. He would have recognised it among thousands. He and Dooku had sparred so often... Mace could not stop his hand from trembling. Quickly, he deactivated the lightsaber and put it down. He took a deep breath before he ignited the second one, the one with the dust and the blood, the one without the bulges in the hilt.

Mace noticed the difference immediately. This lightsaber generated just as much power as the other but it was...somehow...incomplete. It was not perfect. As if it had been built in a hurry, without the necessary devotion and commitment. This weapon was only a weapon. Nothing more. And yet... it was unmistakeably Dooku's weapon too. He must have built it, his handwriting was so very distinct.

Slowly and painfully, the shattered pieces of information formed a solution in Mace's mind. Suddenly it all made sense. The truth was like loud thuds in his mind.

Dooku loses his lightsaber or is robbed of it.

He does not die as early as the Jedi assumed.

He creates a new lightsaber.

He does it in a hurry because he has a mission to complete.

Therefore there are no bulges of his fingers on the hilt. He has not had the chance to use it very often.

Because he is killed.

It happened only a few days ago.

The healers said his corpse did not look like the corpse of a man who has been dead for already several months.

And all of this means...

If we had not stopped searching for him... If we had not declared him dead so early... We could have saved him.

ooooooo

There was fear in Dooku's eyes.

A Jedi must not know fear...

The flames illuminated his features. He was calm and composed, as always. But his eyes... He did not move the slightest bit, although the flames caught hold of his cloak. They burned the hem until it was black. Obi-Wan wanted to help his Master, he extended his hand towards Dooku. The flames were so hot and it hurt but he could not let his Master down.

But Dooku did not move. He just stood there, rigid. Not even his eyes, not even his mouth moved when Obi-Wan heard his voice in his head.

I need your help, Padawan.

"Come here, Master!" Obi-Wan shouted back, hoping to wake his Master from his paralysed state. "Just take my hand!"

He heard Dooku's voice in his mind again. I can't, Padawan, I can't.

"But why?!" Obi-Wan cried desperately.

You must go now. The voice in his mind was soft now, almost affectionate. You can't help me anymore, Padawan. Leave me.

Suddenly, the Force threw Obi-Wan backwards. He landed painfully on the hard ground. His gaze rested on his ring. Its bright blue colour was a perfect contrast to the flames around him. But why was it shining blue now? A sense of foreboding found its way into his confused mind. Someone was standing behind him.

Slowly, Obi-Wan lifted his head up and turned to look. A dark shadow was towering over him. Then a red lightsaber grew out of the shadow. Obi-Wan tried to recognise who this person - this dark Force user - was but there was no time left for him. The red lightsaber came forward, right towards his chest. He felt a terrible pain cut through his heart.

"Aaaaaaaaah!" Obi-Wan jumped up from his sleeping mat. He was covered in sweat and his heart was beating a frantic drumming. He clutched at his heart. It hurt. The pain was so real, so much more than just a dream.

I've just seen my death. I've just foreseen my own death.

The vision had ended there. Had ended with the red lightsaber coming towards him and the horrible pain in his heart. In vain, he tried to calm down his ragged breaths. He needed to understand his visions. He felt they were important, so very important... Well, there was no doubt about the last part..., Obi-Wan thought, shuddering.

And Dooku... why did he dream of his Master again and again? Force, he's dead, they found his corpse! I have to accept it, Obi-Wan tried to convince himself.

You must go now, he heard the faint echo of the voice from his dream. You can't help me anymore, Padawan. Leave me. Choking back his sobs, Obi-Wan got up, put on his tunic, grabbed his lightsaber and went outside.

It was a clear night, the many stars twinkled on the pitch-black night sky like tiny dots. No one else was up now but him. It was silent except for the distant rushing of the sea. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and the low humming penetrated the silence. He did a step forward and swung his lightsaber in a graceful arc. Slowly, he twisted around, raised his lightsaber, blocked an invisible opponent's blow and ducked his head to avoid the hostile blade. He raised his lightsaber in the salute of the old style, took a deep breath and attacked. He was not moving very much but his lightsaber did. He found balance; he stood there as if his feet were rooted in the earth. When his lightsaber moved forward again, he did little steps to avoid off-balance.

Yes, balance. It was about balance. His body moved on his own after years of hard training. In this dreamlike state, Obi-Wan's mind slowly regained its balance too. The agitated thoughts ceased down. He let the Force fill him, direct his moves, direct his thoughts. His eyes wandered up at the sky, at the millions of stars.

You can look up in the sky and see that there are so many other people who are worried and have their problems. You are just one of them. And there are so many other planets. And there were so many people before you and there are many to come after you. You see all the other systems – some of which do not even exist anymore. In such moments, I feel closer to understanding about the Force than usually. I am not important, my problems will pass, my life will not make a difference in this big universe. I feel that I'm in the hands of a greater force, the Force. Then it becomes meaningful: The Force binds us, it holds us together...

It binds us, it holds us together... Anakin! Obi-Wan felt him, felt his presence in the Force. It was only a very short moment, a weak glimmer... but it was unmistakeably Anakin. Anakin was still alive. Anakin, wherever you are, I'm coming. I know we'll see again, okay? Trust me. I will come.

Obi-Wan was not alone. The stars were here. The Force was with him. He was guarded in it. There was no fear, only peace. Yes, maybe he had seen his death. But he knew he would die some day. Maybe in the Clone Wars. Maybe in eighty years. Maybe the vision was still very far in the future. Death was a natural part of life. When his time would come, Obi-Wan would accept it.

The night was warm and the breezes of soft air felt soothing on his skin. He looked up at the stars again, a small smile on his lips. Anakin, I know you're somewhere out there. You're on one of those many little dots. But I'll find you. I promise. And Master Dooku is there too. I just know. I will come, Master.