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RESOLVE II
11.
The small hours of the morning on Coruscant presented an ethereal grace if one stood still long enough to appreciate the beauty of the light pollution. A soft glow spanned the horizon, caressing the darkness of the sky above. Obi-Wan could appreciate the charm, but he still preferred the natural elegance of planets like Alderaan.
Floor to ceiling panes of transparisteel framed his view, and as he stared at the changing colours he thought that, perhaps, he ought to pay attention to the debriefing going on around him.
Inside the Spire of the High Council three Jedi stood in the centre of the floor mandalla. All twelve council masters were present, listening as Siri Tachi explained what they had discovered on Kamino.
"This is disturbing news," Master Windu said. He side-eyed Obi-Wan, unused to the man's silence. "What is your take on this, Master Kenobi?"
Obi-Wan turned his eyes from the skyline to meet the Korun master's stern gaze. He blinked, slowly, and opened his mouth to speak.
"We should put the Order on alert," he said.
"That seems premature," Ki-Adi-Mundi said in a pitched tone that indicated his distaste for the idea. "The discovery of this cloning operation is certainly a matter of great concern, but an alert could instil fear and panic."
"I see your point, master," Obi-Wan said. He was calm. Perhaps unnaturally so, and it did not escape the notice of Master Yoda, who kept a hawk's eye on the younger master. "However, Dooku was the one who commissioned the army. Considering his fall to the dark side I'd imagine his plans are anything but pure."
"But the Kaminoans are under the impression that the Jedi placed the order on behalf of the Galactic Republic, correct?" Adi Gallia's melodic voice filled the room, exuding a calm authority.
"Yes, master," Obi-Wan said.
"Then perhaps we can take control of any further dealings with the Kaminoans," Adi said, glancing at her fellow council masters as she spoke.
"The Kaminoans are capitalists," Obi-Wan said before the council could begin a discussion on the ethical and moral hurdles that would accompany such an endeavour. "They will honour the ones who pay them, and no one else. Since Jango Fett slipped through our fingers I doubt they will be forthcoming in any deal we try to strike with them, unless there is a commercial incentive for them. As it stands I'm sure Fett has alerted Dooku, who no doubt has already taken steps against us."
"Act rashly, Dooku would not," Yoda said.
"And what if he's not the one pulling all the strings?" Obi-Wan asked. "Discovering Kamino may have sped up the Sith's plans. We are still very much in the dark and need to be vigilant."
The council masters communicated in that silent way they were so accustomed to. Eyes met across the room, lekku and brows twitched, and finally master Yoda tapped his gimer stick against the floor.
"Discuss this, the council will," Yoda said. "Padawan Olin. Dismissed you are. Rest now, you should."
Ferus, after explaining how his mission ended up taking him to Tatooine, had been silent throughout the debriefing. He bowed to the council and quickly retreated through the doors.
"Now, the matter of your padawan," Yoda said, his gaze still locked on Obi-Wan's form.
"We've heard Senator Amidala and Padawan Olin's account as it pertained to the protection detail," Windu said. "Now we'd like to hear the rest of it."
Obi-Wan was an articulate human being. His wit was almost unmatched, his aptitude for diplomacy second to none. In another life he would have been able to go toe to toe with the Senate's best. And yet, he found himself unable to speak as Tatooine's events replayed itself in front of his mind's eye.
"Kenobi?" Master Windu prompted.
Siri Tachi stood still beside Obi-Wan. She had not been present at the Tusken camp, and did not fully understand why the council did not dismiss her along with her padawan. She turned slightly towards Obi-Wan, her brows drawing down over her eyes as she regarded him. She wanted to knock him upside the head and scold him for his stupidity and stubbornness, but it was not her place.
Obi-Wan briefly closed his eyes as he drew on the Force to bring clarity to his memories. Then, finally, he broke his silence.
The next minutes passed with all attention focused on the words spoken by Obi-Wan as he explained, in excruciating detail, what had transpired once he reached his padawan. He managed to stay passive and detached throughout the entire retelling of events, even as council masters failed to hide their horrified surprise.
Obi-Wan's voice drifted to silence when he reached the point of Anakin's departure. For a time the council chamber was quiet as a tomb.
"He wasn't ready," Obi-Wan was the first to speak. He stared out over the Coruscant cityscape the way he'd stared at the vaporator lines on Tatooine. It was as though he were stuck in a state of dazed disbelief.
"How could you have allowed this to happen, Kenobi?" Mace Windu asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, the anger he felt at the accusation broke him from his passivity. Still, he did not react. Inwardly he could feel the embers of fury build into a raging fire. He focused on his breathing to dampen the rising emotion.
"Angry, you are," Master Yoda said. There was little that escaped the ancient master's notice.
"Outraged, master," Obi-Wan said, voice calm.
"Why?" Yoda prompted.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath through his nose, the muscles in his neck straining, his shoulders lifting. It was clear to all that Obi-Wan Kenobi was barely holding his composure.
"Let me tell you a story, masters," Obi-Wan began, still staring out towards the horizon. "It's about a kind-hearted boy uniquely strong in the Force—"
"Flippancy and sarcasm will not earn you any favours, Kenobi," Mace Windu warned.
"I'm being completely serious, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said, pulling his gaze away from the skyline to meet the stern Korun master's eyes. "I was given a near impossible task, by the oath I made to my dying master, by the oath I gave this council, by the oath I made to a nine year old boy who knew nothing about what it meant to be a Jedi. He knew only the savagery of slavery and despite that his heart held nothing but kindness.
"Then we placed enormous pressure on his shoulders, calling him the chosen one. It isolated him. He did not know how to integrate fully into this new life, despite my best efforts. His peers stared and criticised, and for a time he took it in stride. But he feels deeply, and instead of finding a release for his emotions he bottled them up and let them fester. And I was too blind to notice the difference.
"When the Sith captured him. . ." Obi-Wan paused, shaking his head. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. His voice had begun to rise with his anger. When he spoke again, it was with a calmer tone. "Nine weeks after they captured him my instincts screamed at me that I would find him on Serenno. What little proof I had was accurate. And yet, politics. . . Because of politics his rescue was delayed by over two years.
"I'm sure I don't need to belabour the point, masters. Anakin simply wasn't ready to be in the field without me. He may never have been ready, after suffering such prolonged manipulation under the Sith," Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to the floor. "I should have seen this coming."
"The only one at fault, you are not, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda said. "But why allow Skywalker to leave?"
"It was a feeling," Obi-Wan said. He raised his eyes and stared at the glow of the horizon again.
"A feeling?" Mace Windu shifted forward in his seat, his patience wearing thin.
"I've learned to trust my instincts, master," Obi-Wan said. "It may not be clear to me now, but I believe letting him go was the right thing to do."
"That is poor justification, considering the vengeful slaughter of those Tuskens," Mace said.
"Master, I understand," Obi-Wan held his ground. "But this is a truth I ca—"
Several dark silhouettes outside caught Obi-Wan's eye. They had all deviated from the Coruscant skylanes and were entering the private airspace of the Jedi Temple.
"Kenobi?" Mace said.
Obi-Wan frowned, squinted, and broke etiquette by ignoring the council master and stepping closer to the window. He recognised the airships a moment later.
"Those are Baktoid repulsorcraft," he said, pointing at the shadowed airships. "Multi-Utility Transports, if I'm not mistaken. What in the blazes are they doing here?"
The council turned to what Obi-Wan was pointing at. Then, as one, a wave of alarm travelled through the chamber. Obi-Wan felt the disturbance in the Force before Master Windu started shouting commands. He was halfway to the door, hand on the hilt of his lightsaber when the Master of the Order opened the comm in his chair.
"All Temple Guard on high alert," Mace spoke with calm urgency. "Unidentified transport vessels have entered our airspace. Be prepared for possible hostiles."
Obi-Wan did not wait to be dismissed. He ran out of the council chamber upon the Force's urging and headed to the nearest maintenance stairwell. The warning was clear that something untoward was heading for the Jedi, and Obi-Wan dared not chance getting stuck in a turbolift if a section of the temple lost power in a sudden assault.
Through clever use of his cable launcher and the Force Obi-Wan made it down the spire within minutes.
The usual calm of the ziggurat was deeply disturbed. Masters and padawans alike were sprinting down corridors, yelling commands as authoritatively and calmly as they could, but the message was clear—The attack was already underway.
Obi-Wan caught up with a group of Temple Guards heading for the main entrance. "What are we facing?" He asked.
"It's a battalion of droids, master," the masked guard answered. "They've surrounded the temple."
Obi-Wan considered what he'd read of history's warfare, and what he knew of Dooku and the Sith. "Where's our weakest point?"
"Kenobi!"
Obi-Wan stopped and turned, meeting Master Cin Drallig in the hallway connecting the upper refectory with the senior salles. "Master Cin," he acknowledged.
"The Guard hasn't many to spare. The lower north-western quadrant has only senior initiates and a handful of padawans to defend it."
"I'll head straight there," Obi-Wan said, sprinting away before he'd finished speaking.
Muffled explosions reached his ears as he ran, and by the time he reached the spiral walkway that would take him to the lower levels, he'd felt six tremors. The sound of repeating blaster fire echoed off the walls. The tapestries did little to absorb the sound, and the closer he got to the crèche the louder the zing of plasma became.
Obi-Wan came to a sudden halt when a transparisteel door on his left shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. The shrapnel exploded away from him, toward the inside of the room where he could sense a room full of younglings. Without even thinking about it Obi-Wan held his hands out in front of him, catching the deadly shards before they could impact against fragile flesh.
He paused for a moment, taking a breath, the transparisteel shards floating harmlessly between him and a clan of wide-eyed younglings. Ali-Alann stood poised in front of the younglings, his own hands also outstretched.
"Oh, Obi-Wan," the crèche master said. "Am I ever glad to see your bearded face."
Blaster fire ripped towards Obi-Wan. He dropped his hold on the shards, ignited his saber, and deflected the bolts in a few arcing strokes. He stepped through the broken doorway and out of the line of fire.
"Is everyone all right?" Obi-Wan asked as he turned to survey the group.
"We're fine," Ali-Alann said. "But you'll want to hurry and reinforce the initiates."
Obi-Wan nodded, surprised to see the younglings so quiet. Many of them were obviously nervous, their wide eyes staring at him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He met the eyes of a youngling girl who showed none of the fear of her agemates. Obi-Wan was unsurprised to see that it was little Talsi. He gave her a wink, then carefully peered into the hallway before stepping outside again. Ali-Alann was no slouch and he would guard the younglings with his life.
Besides, Obi-Wan thought, The droids need to get past me first.
As soon as he stepped into the hall blaster fire ripped his way again. Ahead he could see several overturned tables and plastoid crates. The initiates had created barriers and obstacles to hinder the advancing droids. Obi-Wan spotted three girls and five boys of differing races crouched behind the obstructions with lightsabers drawn. None of them looked a day older than twelve.
Obi-Wan stayed half crouched as he quickly stepped towards the young Jedi. Midstride he dropped his cloak from his shoulders—it would only hinder him in a prolonged battle. The burn on his left arm protested, but he ignored it.
"What's the situation?" Obi-Wan asked as he arrived by a Nautolan girl and a Human boy.
"Master!" The boy exclaimed. "We're so glad you're here!"
"The droids blew out the wall leading to the northern garden terrace," the girl answered with a measure more poise. "The corridor is bottle-necking them. Padawan Jomok is up ahead trying to keep them at bay. He told us to hold this line."
"Good, you stay here," Obi-Wan said, giving them each a reassuring pat on the shoulder before ducking into the open with his saber drawn. He deflected two bolts then ducked behind another crate where more initiates lay in wait. His mere presence appeared to bolster the younglings' spirits.
Moving quickly, but carefully, he made his way to the very front. A young padawan, perhaps thirteen years of age, ducked between two sets of overturned durasteel tables, slicing through the legs and necks of droids as they attempted to cross the line he was so steadfastly holding. His blue lightsaber swung in quick, precise arcs, and Obi-Wan immediately recognised the elegant strokes of a Makashi master in the making. A pile of droid parts was forming on the other side of the boy's cover.
Skilled as he was, the boy was up against a small army of B1 battle droids. Obi-Wan's experience on Naboo taught him that a single Baktoid transport could carry up to 112 such droids. Tough odds, even within a choke point such as the corridor presented.
As that thought entered Obi-Wan's mind the padawan cried out in pain, lost grip on his lightsaber, and fell to the ground.
Obi-Wan called upon the Force and leaped the remaining distance to land squarely in front of the groaning boy. He deflected blaster fire that came in continuous streams now that a static target had presented itself.
"Padawan, are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked as he kept his eyes focussed on the droids ahead. They were attempting to advance in rows of three, but the debris of fallen droids had brought them to a halt. The front most droids kept firing their repeating rifles.
"I don't know," the boy groaned through grit teeth. "It hurts."
Obi-Wan pushed his concern to the back of his mind and called on the Force again. He took a single step forward and thrust his left hand forward. A shockwave of Force knocked the first three rows of droids viciously backwards. The blaster fire came to an abrupt halt as the droids were pummelled into disarray.
Quickly, Obi-Wan turned his back to the droids and scooped the padawan into his arms. He ducked around the overturned durasteel table and leaned the boy against the wall.
"Ow, ow," the boy muttered, his brows pulling tight in pain.
"It's all right," Obi-Wan said gently as he surveyed the wound. The blaster bolt had hit him in the left thigh. Obi-Wan ran a gentle hand over the injury, probing it with the Force to assess the damage. The plasma had gone clean through the soft tissue and scraped up against the bone. Obi-Wan was impressed that the boy wasn't downright yowling in pain. A wound like that had to be agony.
"How bad is it?" The boy asked through heaving breaths.
"I don't think there will be lasting damage," Obi-Wan said. A zip and a ping on the durasteel alerted them that the droids had found their footing and started their barrage again.
"Get me my lightsaber, master. I can still fight," the padawan said, the fires of determination burned bright in his pain-filled gaze. Pride welled in Obi-Wan's chest at the heart shown by the resolute boy.
"I know you can," Obi-Wan said, giving him a small smile. "You've done brilliantly, padawan, but you should rest now. Leave it to me."
The boy gave him a reluctant nod.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly to center himself. Then in a single fluid motion he stepped out into the open, deflecting blaster fire as it fired down the corridor towards him. Through the broken wall at the far end he noticed a single Baktoid transport unloading battle droids onto the terrace. Bolstered by the knowledge that there could only be so many droids on a single transport, Obi-Wan began weaving his way forward. He cut through three droids at once with a curving flourish reminiscent of the tight blade work of Form II. With precision he redirected blaster fire to strike down droid upon droid. The corridor was quickly turning into a durasteel scrap pile.
Sweat beaded on Obi-Wan's brow as he battled the droids up and down the corridor. What the droids lacked in initiative they made up for in sheer numbers. In the back of his mind Obi-Wan worried about the possibility of droids moving down unguarded corridors. Like all manufactured machines the droids had no presence in the Force. For all he knew another battalion could be moving in to flank him from the opposite side.
Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief when he cut down the last row of droids and glanced down the intersecting corridor. Both ways appeared undamaged and clear of droids. The Baktoid transport still sat on the terrace.
Cautiously Obi-Wan moved forward, lightsaber raised in a defensive position in front of him in case more droids lay waiting in ambush. As soon as the transport's sensors identified the Jedi as a threat it turned its four anti-personel blasters on him and began firing. The bolts were larger than those discharged by the repeating blasters the B1 battle droids carried, and left striking grooves where they struck the floor and walls.
Obi-Wan ducked behind a part of the terrace wall that was still in tact. A moment later it exploded towards him, covering him dust and debris.
Without wasting more time Obi-Wan charged out of cover and took an indirect, seemingly random route towards the Baktoid transport. He used the Force to enhance his speed, which made it near impossible for the automated turrets to track him in time for an accurate shot.
Obi-Wan soon found himself within the turret's dead zone. Safe from further blaster fire he quickly dispatched the weapons with a couple clean strokes of his lightsaber. He took a moment to survey the destruction, and breathed deeply. Guard still up he moved back towards the corridor.
The once pristine, serene halls were decorated with droid corpses, scorch marks, and broken walls and windows. But in that part of the Jedi Temple the battle was over.
Obi-Wan jogged back down the corridor towards the padawan and initiates. He spotted the boy's lightsaber and stooped to pick it up.
On the other side of the overturned durasteel table the injured boy still sat leaning against the wall. He was breathing hard, eyes closed as tears ran down his cheeks. He made not a sound as he continued to breath through the pain.
Obi-Wan crouched down next to the boy, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The boy opened his eyes and regarded the Jedi Master with tired eyes.
"How are you holding up, padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I'll live, master," the boy's mouth turned up into an uneven smile. It morphed to a grimace a moment later, and the boy ducked his head down again.
"You did well, padawan," Obi-Wan said as he held the boy's lightsaber out to him. He took it from Obi-Wan and clutched it tight in one hand.
"Thank you, master," the boy said.
"Do you think you can stand?" Obi-Wan asked. He wanted to get him out of there in case another Baktoid transport was inbound.
"I. . . I don't know, master," the boy said, for the first time looking like he was ready to admit weakness.
"Well, I'm no healer," Obi-Wan said. "But I may be able to numb the pain long enough to move you to a safer spot. Would you like me to try?"
The boy seemed hesitant at first, but then nodded his consent. Obi-Wan placed his hands gently around the blaster wound on the boy's thigh and called upon the Force to soothe the nerves. He'd done it enough times on his own injuries and hoped his limited skill in the healing arts would be effective enough to lessen the boy's pain.
A loud, unreserved sigh flew from the boy's mouth a moment later, causing Obi-Wan to grin in surprise. "That's much better," the boy muttered as the lines on his forehead smoothed. "I think I can move now."
"All right," Obi-Wan said, and took the boy under his arms to help him up. "Don't put any weight on that leg."
Obi-Wan supported most of the boy's weight as they moved down the corridor. When they reached the first line of initiates Obi-Wan told them to move ahead and lead the other initiates to Master Ali-Alann.
When Obi-Wan arrived back in the crèche with the injured padawan Master Ali-Alann immediately darted forward to take the boy's other arm. They settled him on a soft couch.
"Master your hair's all grey!" A childish voice spoke up from behind the two Jedi Masters.
Obi-Wan turned and saw a youngling boy point and stare at him with wide eyes and an impish grin.
"We don't point, Richo," Another youngling knocked down the arm pointing at Obi-Wan. They began a shoving match, and Master Ali-Alann sighed before moving to intercept the two boys.
Obi-Wan grinned at their antics. It reminded him of Garen and himself at that age.
A tremor brought the room to silence again. Obi-Wan moved to the shattered doorway and peered around the corner. He saw nothing but the destruction and the flecks of debris floating in the artificial light beams. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, shaking loose the dust that had amused the youngling so.
Obi-Wan stayed by the doorway and silenced his thoughts, listening, sensing. Countless Jedi were still fighting, but the air in his immediate surroundings went undisturbed.
"Do you think it's over?" Ali-Alann asked.
"Here, for now. Elsewhere in the temple the attack persists still," Obi-Wan said. He wanted to go to where the fighting was thickest and help, but he could not leave Master Ali-Alann alone with a gaggle of younglings and an injured padawan. The children were important, and what if another assault came for them.
The crèche master gathered the younglings in a circle and led them in a song. After a while the older initiates joined in as well. The padawan sank down deeper into the couch, his face relaxing and eyes drooping.
Obi-Wan took up vigil by the broken doorway, determined that nothing would get past him, and wondered at the strange action of the Baktoid droids.
Was Dooku behind it?
No one had heard even a whisper of his whereabouts since his defeat on Serenno. Would the old fallen Jedi Master truly have resorted to such a brash assault? It made little sense.
And that, in Obi-Wan's humble opinion, made it all the more troubling.
A/N: I've responded to last chapters reviews via private messages. For those I couldn't PM:
Ancalagon: Thank you! The events leading to the end of book 2 won't leave much time to delve further into Anakin's story, but don't worry, it will all be resolved over the course of book 3. Almost done with it!
danthev: Thank you for the kind words! It is such a relief to see this chapter well-received. When I started writing book 2 I was incredibly motivated to get it done, specifically because I wanted to get to that confrontation on Tatooine.
Guest: Thank you! That has been my goal, and I'm glad it's coming across as such. Also, I can't deny that the high praise is both motivating and a little nerve wracking. . . Because what is coming in book 3 is going to push some boundaries. I trust you'll let me know if I ever stray too far.